Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 3, Episode 9 - Love and Human Remains - full transcript
Two murdered but well-preserved bodies are found after a shed is torn down, and it's discovered that one of them had fought in the War of 1812.
Bring this around.
Bring it here, OK?
I want these hods on the back of
that thing, OK? What's he up to?
You two, get in there.
Right? Come on.
Lamby!
We're already behind schedule,
what do you think you're doing?
They look like gargoyles, sir.
The contortions of the bodies
would suggest poisoning.
An astute hypothesis, detective.
Cyanide, perhaps? That would
explain the clenched fists.
What about the colour of their skin?
Stained by the damp earth, I suspect.
Cyanide is often used in suicides.
Perhaps they killed themselves.
How did they then bury
themselves, George?
Point taken, sir. So a murder, then?
Judging by the condition,
I suspect they were killed
within the last two weeks.
Not likely.
There was a shed
built over those piles.
Could someone have cut the
floorboards, then, to bury them?
No, Lamby and myself would
have noticed a thing like that.
When was the shed demolished?
We took up the floor this morning.
So the bodies were buried
before the shed was built?
Any idea when that might have been?
About five years ago,
as I recollect. Five years?
So they were lying there
in the ground all of this time,
perfectly preserved?
Five years in the ground and they've
not decomposed? How's that possible?
They were buried in
sphagnum moss, sir.
Moss? As in peat moss?
Yes, its acidic nature acts
as a sort of preservative.
The watery, airless conditions
prevent organic matter
from decomposing.
I've never heard of such a thing.
Well, sir, there has been
a recorded case just this year.
A young girl was found in a peat bog
in the Netherlands, she was...
I'll take your word for it.
So whoever built this shed
did it to conceal the bodies?
That would be the owner of
the factory, a James Kirkham.
I've asked George to find him
and determine the nature
of his business.
I did ask him to be quick.
Oh, good, because with a five
year-old case, we wouldn't want
the trail to go cold, would we?
Remarkable. I'm receiving telegrams
from universities and museums,
all but begging for information.
This is a very rare find.
Did you know that earlier this year,
the body of a mummified woman...
Was discovered in the Netherlands,
preserved in a peat bog
just like this.
Yes.
So, what have you learnt, doctor?
Well, they're a male and female,
obviously, both approximately
40 years of age.
And how did you determine that?
Fine wrinkles where the skin
has been folded on itself.
People go grey at different rates,
but skin breakdown is fairly uniform.
Of particular interest, their
internal organs are entirely intact,
as are their stomach contents.
It looks like partially digested
meat, potato and onion.
And cyanide, in both stomachs.
They were definitely poisoned.
Were they husband and wife,
or brother and sister?
They are similar ages, and the fact
they shared the same last meal
would suggest they cohabited.
Yes, and there's this.
The dental apparatus I found
in the woman's mouth.
Are these teeth human?
I'd guess goat or calf.
Clearly, the dentist they visited
employed primitive techniques.
Or they could have been immigrants
from Eastern Europe, perhaps?
Well, this is an excellent start.
Yes, well, I may have saved
the best for last.
It's like it's staring at me, sir.
Yes, quite realistic, isn't it?
How would one keep it
from falling out?
I mean, imagine how embarrassing,
at a lovely romantic dinner and...
Your glass eye falls into your soup.
Not this one, George.
This one is very well made.
It would have been custom fitted
to the man's eye socket.
There appears to be an
identification mark of some sort.
Something to offer us
some insight, sir?
George, there's a very attractive
young lady to see you here.
Georgie! Penny! Oh, my!
Hello. Yes, thank you,
that will be all, Higgins.
Georgie, how wonderful to see you.
The trip was long and the
rail car had a odour,
but it went by quickly,
and Toronto is bigger than
I thought it would be.
You look so smart in your uniform!
Is that a glass eye?
I do believe it's staring at me.
Relative of yours, George?
Please allow me to introduce you
to my cousin, Miss Penny Renton.
This is Detective Murdoch.
Pleasure to make your acquaintance,
Miss Renton.
Sir. If you don't mind,
Georgie's always writing home
about your brilliant ideas
and how many experiments you do
and how he's so much wishing
he will be like you one day.
Penny tends to go on
quite a bit, sir.
She came all the way from Belleville
to attend secretarial school.
Well, in that case, I wish you all
the success in the world.
Now, if you don't mind, I have
a couple of things I need to discuss
with Constable Crabtree.
Constable Crabtree! Of course.
Sir, about the letters,
she tends to exaggerate.
It's quite all right, George.
Um, I looked into the factory
and its owner
and I think you'll be particularly
interested in what they made there.
Very good. And please find out
all you can about this glass eye -
where it was manufactured,
when and for whom.
Sir, I will look into it.
I'm nipping this in the bud.
As I already told your colleague,
there'll be no photographs
of the bodies released,
nor any details of this case.
Yes, you can call back
later if you wish.
But don't expect to hear anything
differently. Thank you. Bye-bye.
Bloody reporters. That's
the third one I've had sniffing
around for your mummies, Murdoch.
Buried treasure, I understand,
but buried bodies? What's this?
Information on James Kirkham,
the factory owner who built
the shed over the burial site.
It was an electroplating factory.
Any significance in that?
An electrolyte used in both gold
and silver electroplating
is a cyanide solution.
Poison responsible for the deaths.
You think the bodies may have
been factory workers?
Apparently Kirkham was
very hard on his employees.
Check missing persons reports
from the period.
Already looking into it, sir.
He'd quite a violent streak,
this fella.
Kirkham was arrested twice
for harassment and
three times for assault.
He does them in, up goes the shed
and no-one's the wiser.
Am I really here
to talk about a shed?
Two people were found buried
underneath that shed.
You think I had something
to do with it?
They died of cyanide poisoning.
You used cyanide in your factory.
Yes, but I didn't feed it
to anybody.
These people were murdered,
Mr Kirkham, and then buried
beneath a shed you built.
Be that as it may,
I didn't murder them.
You owed many people money,
did you not? Still do.
Did any of them ever come
to your factory to collect?
Afraid I can't answer that.
I beg your pardon?
I'm involved in several disputes
of a civil nature.
My lawyer has forbidden me
to discuss any details regarding
my debt obligations.
Are you deliberately evading
my inquiries, Mr Kirkham?
I'm doing no such thing. I'm free
to talk at length about my shed.
Two people have been murdered, and I
believe you know something about it.
You will either tell me... Sir?
Excuse me. A word?
I'm in the middle of an interview,
George. That's why I felt
I had to interrupt you.
What do you mean? Sir, the glass eye
found in our male body was made
by an oculist named Brian Winston.
Winston stopped manufacturing glass
eyes in 1850, almost 50 years ago.
What does that mean? 1850 is the
last year our male victim could
have been fitted with the eye.
If he was 18 at the time, which he
would have had to have been to have
been fitted with a custom glass eye,
and 40 when he died, 1872 is
the last year he could have died.
Before the electroplating factory
was even built.
Which would exonerate Mr Kirkham.
And those bodies have remained
perfectly preserved all this time?
Yes, sir.
25 years, is this even worth
pursuing, Murdoch?
The culprit's probably dead by now.
Age isn't amnesty, sir.
Two people have been murdered.
We owe it to the victims to find
out the truth about their deaths.
If the killer is out there,
I'll find him.
This map, dated 1888, clearly shows
the Kirkham factory.
The X is where the bodies
were found. That's right.
This one, dated 1872...
The last year that we believe
our mystery mummies
could have been killed.
Right. It was mostly farmland
back then, but there is a house
approximately 20 yards from
where the bodies were found.
When was the house torn down?
1880. Sir?
Any luck at City Records, Crabtree?
The land and the surrounding area
was purchased from City Hall in 1852.
Whoever owned that house must know
something about those bodies.
Could well be our killer.
George, were you able to find out
who purchased the house?
His name is Horace Mooney.
On the old farm?
Yes. Well, I wish I knew how
I could help you, detective,
but I haven't lived there
since I sold the place in...
1879. That's right.
The bodies have been there since
at least 1872, Mr Mooney.
You were living there during
that time, were you not? I was.
Then perhaps you can explain how
two people came to be buried
less than 20 yards from your door
without you noticing?
That's a very good question,
detective, and I wish
I knew the answer.
I believe you do.
And whether you buried them
or murdered them as well...
Murder? Detective, I didn't
kill them, I didn't bury them.
I honestly wish there was something
I could do to help you out.
Perhaps there is.
Do you recognise them, Mr Mooney?
How can they still be preserved
like this?
They're mummified.
Do you recognise them?
No.
Someone who went missing, perhaps?
Neighbours, farm hands?
No.
So, complete strangers
were buried on your property
without your knowledge?
I suppose so.
If that's all?
Yes, Mr Mooney, that's all.
For now.
What do you make of his reaction
to the bodies?
It's hard to say. He certainly seemed
to study them with great interest.
Do you think he's their killer?
I don't know,
but I'm convinced he knows
more than he's saying.
But how do I prove it
after 25 years?
I think I might have something
that will cheer you up.
At first I thought it was a birthmark
or discolouration from having been
in the ground for so long,
but I realised...
It's a tattoo.
Military, perhaps?
You're right, Julia,
this has cheered me up.
Sir? Ah, Murdoch.
I've just received a telegram from
the Times in London, they want to do
a featured article on the mummies.
Word has spread to London, sir?
Can you believe it? Murdoch,
I think these bodies are considerably
more significant than we thought.
You don't say.
What have you got there?
Our male mummy had some kind of
military tattoo on his arm.
Can you identify it?
You're not going to believe this,
sir, but the insignia is of
the Caldwell Rangers,
a Canadian regiment that last fought
in the war of 1812.
1812?
Based on Dr Ogden's estimate of
their ages and my assumption that
he was at least 16 years old
when he joined the regiment in 1812,
the murders had to have occurred
before 1836. That's 60 years ago.
Which puts Horace Mooney
in the clear.
I was certain he knew something.
Toronto wasn't much of a city
back then. Less than 10,000 people.
Would have been quiet and safe,
not this sprawling, foul-smelling
place we live in today.
This is what our murder site would
have looked like back in 1836.
It's all fields west of Spadina,
College Street didn't even exist.
What have you, George?
Sirs, the property was originally
owned by a Samuel and Mary Blake.
They built the house there in 1815,
farmed there until 1850 when the
land was expropriated by the city.
For what? An insane asylum.
But then plans changed, the asylum
was built on Queen Street and
the land was auctioned in 1852...
To Horace Mooney.
Well, that clears things up
somewhat.
One other thing, sirs,
the Blakes had a child, a daughter.
Her married name's Rebecca Hastings.
She's still alive and I have
her address.
Hello!
Mrs Hastings?
Mrs Rebecca Hastings?
Yes? How can I help you?
I'm Detective William Murdoch
of the Toronto Constabulary.
Oh, dear, has something happened?
Oh, goodness, no.
I didn't mean to alarm you.
I just have some questions for you.
Of course.
Are these your grandchildren?
Great-grandchildren, actually.
Charlie Hastings.
Detective William Murdoch.
Now, what can we do for you?
Excuse me, ma'am,
do you teach at the secreta...
Pardon me!
Excuse me, ma'am, do you t...
Pardon me. Pardon.
Oh, of course. Pardon me, ma'am...
Yes, is there a problem, Constable?
Yes. Well, no. I'm here to meet
my cousin, Penny Renton.
She began her first day
of class here...
She absolutely did not.
Classes begin tomorrow.
Are you quite certain, ma'am?
I dropped Penny here this morning.
She must have realised
her mistake and left.
Yes, of course.
Good day, ma'am.
Lovely. Thank you, Mrs Hastings.
I was hoping to speak to you about
your parents, Mr and Mrs Blake.
Goodness me, whatever for?
We recently found two well-preserved
bodies buried on the property they
once owned. That's disturbing news.
It appears the bodies were buried
at a time when your parents still
owned the property, around 1836.
I don't know how I can help you.
I'd left the farm by that time.
And how old were you then? 15.
15? That's rather young to be
off on your own, isn't it?
Oh, I wasn't on my own.
Charlie left with me.
Mr Hastings?
You lived at the home as well?
I was indentured. My parents
couldn't afford to keep me,
so they sent me to the Blake farm
to work in exchange
for food and lodgings.
And your parents must not have taken
too kindly to you being courted
by an indentured servant?
No, they did not.
When we tell them we wanted to marry,
they were very angry. So we left.
And did you keep in touch with
your parents? Not very much.
My mother died shortly after
the sale of the property, my father
followed a couple of years later.
So you have no idea who the people
we found buried might be?
Not at all. I wonder, would you be
willing to look at the bodies?
Perhaps it could trigger
a memory, however small,
that could help us identify them.
Well, if it will help.
SHE SHRIEKS
Oh, those poor people!
They look frozen in time.
Do you recognise them?
I'm trying to think.
Well, I can't say that I've ever
seen them before in my life.
Are you absolutely sure? Yes.
Thank you both for coming,
it's most appreciated.
You don't need to pull on me,
I can walk on my own!
I found her in Allan Gardens. What?!
I can't believe you sent the police.
She was talking with a young man.
What?!
I was merely asking for directions.
Penny Elizabeth Harriet Renton,
what were you thinking?
You could have been harmed. I...
I don't want to hear it. I went
to your secretarial school
to pick you up,
only to find that your classes
begin tomorrow.
I'm afraid that in all
the excitement I mixed up the dates.
And you didn't come back
to the station because...?
I was embarrassed. My first day in
the big city and I get it all wrong.
Georgie, please don't be mad at me.
Constable.
Are you hungry?
I've got some bread and some cheese.
I'll get you something warmer
in a little bit.
Sir?
I found something I believe you will
find intriguing. Yes, George?
Well, I looked into
the Caldwell Rangers and I found
an officers list.
That fellow who used to own the
property, Samuel Blake, is on it.
Really?
Sir, it would be my guess that the
buried bodies are those of Samuel
and Mary Blake. Very good, George.
Which means we have identified our
mummies - Rebecca Hastings' parents.
Yes, but it also means Charlie
and Rebecca Hastings lied to me.
The bodies you saw in the morgue
were those of your parents,
Mrs Hastings.
There's no way
you couldn't have known that.
They looked so different,
and it's been such a long time.
I simply didn't recognise them.
You told me your parents died
after the sale of the property.
That was in 1850.
You lied to me. Why?
Did you murder them? Murder?!
No! Charlie?
Rebecca, we need
to tell him the truth.
You were right,
we didn't leave the farm.
It was my parents who left.
At least, that's what we thought
until you showed us their bodies.
When did they leave?
Round 1836.
They just disappeared.
We never saw them again.
And you never went
to the authorities?
What authorities?
There were no police then
the way there are now.
At least none that you could trust,
at any rate.
We knew something must have
happened to them, but we never
had any idea what.
We impersonated my parents
by forging their signatures
on the sales documents.
And we always feared
this day would come.
Are you going to arrest us?
Not for forgery, no.
But I am conducting
a murder investigation.
Oh, sir?
According to the House of Industry
Records, Charlie Hastings was not
the only indentured child
living at the Blakes'
when they disappeared.
There were three other children.
Really? Still living?
All of them, sir,
including one Horace Mooney.
Find them and bring them in
for questioning. Sir.
Sir?
Sir?
Sorry to disturb you, sir,
but you have a telephone call.
Another reporter? This one's
from the New York Times, sir.
New York Times?
Put it through. Right away.
Pardon me. Excuse me,
I received a note at the university
that I should come down here at once.
My name is Michael Webster. No?!
Excuse me, ma'am?
Why, it is you!
You little turkey!
No-one has called me that...
Alice?!
I really don't know what more
I can tell you people, constable.
We just have a few more questions,
Mr Mooney.
Horace! It's Michael, and Alice.
My goodness!
Horace! It's a strange place for
a reunion, but I'll take it!
Now, what in the world did they
drag us all down here for?
Mr Mooney, you say that you didn't
recognise the bodies of Samuel and
Mary Blake, yet you lived with them.
I didn't recognise them.
The last time I laid eyes on them,
I was five years old.
And then they left.
Did you not wonder where they went?
To be honest, not really.
I was glad.
They were horrible.
They just upped and left,
as I recall.
And you never heard from them
again, Miss Nugent?
No. And I didn't care one whit.
That was a...
That was a cold thing to say.
They were, for all intents
and purposes, your parents.
My parents died when I was 10,
the Blakes were my keepers.
You felt bitter about working
for food and board?
I was bitter about 18 hours
of farm work a day,
and the beatings to top it off.
Beatings?
They were mean, those Blakes. Never
a smile or a kind word from them.
Yet years later,
you bought the house.
Why would you do that if there were
such terrible memories?
Because after the Blakes disappeared
there were nothing
but good memories.
Rebecca and Charlie became like
a mother and father to us.
We were family.
Can you tell me anything about
the last time you saw the Blakes?
My last memory is hearing
old man Blake take his belt
to Alice's backside.
I didn't deserve it. He stubbed
his toe on a chair and accused me
of pulling it to the hutch
to steal candy from
the top shelf, but I didn't.
The next morning, they were gone.
Who do you think killed them?
I've no idea.
I'm sorry, detective,
I can't help you with that.
Don't know, don't care.
We were just happy they were gone.
So all their stories match.
They have remarkable memories
for old people.
Except about what happened
to the Blakes.
They could be telling
the truth, sir.
The Blakes could have enemies
that their children didn't
know about. I don't think so.
I think Alice, Horace and Michael
are lying to protect the Hastings.
Or they all did the mean bastards in
to protect each other.
I don't know what's worse,
these sweet old people
killing the Blakes,
or to think of them as
young children, doing the same.
Either way, I think we are finally
getting closer to finding out
what happened in that house
and who was involved.
Off you go, now, ladies.
No loitering. All of you, let's go.
Good evening!
Hello again, ma'am.
Constable, you must be here
to meet Miss Renton.
I am. I have the correct day
today, I hope.
Yes, congratulations, constable.
However, you do not have
the correct time.
Ma'am, if classes end at 4.30,
I'm nearly a full hour early.
Class is over at 3.30, something
you might have checked first.
I'm certain Penny told me 4.30.
Constable, young girls do not have
the capacity to focus.
Their minds wander aimlessly
unless given proper instruction.
Yes, ma'am.
Something I fear you are not doing.
Ma'am, she's usually
a very responsible girl.
You must be responsible for her.
You are her guardian, are you not?
I am, ma'am.
I'll look for her straight away.
Thank you.
Constable, Miss Renton went
in that direction.
Thank you again, ma'am.
You're too kind.
GIGGLING FROM NEXT ROOM
Oh, I don't think so!
Penny, what in God's name
is going on here?!
George! Oh, my gosh!
You get your hands off her!
George, you don't understand!
Oh, I understand! This randy
scoundrel is trying to take advantage
of an innocent young girl!
I'm 16! Sir, I was only...
Oh, yes, I know what you
were only, you goat!
I should have you penned up
in the rams' pasture!
What are you doing?
This...whatever his name is
is under arrest.
For what? Public indecency.
We're indoors.
The curtains are see-through.
What has that to do with anything?
Well, it means that any member of the
public could witness this indecency.
Now get a move on.
George Crabtree, you let him go!
Penny, I'm doing this
for your own good.
Clarence is my true love!
Don't be ridiculous!
You arrived two days ago,
you have only just met.
I've known him six months.
You came here to be with a boy?
The school was just a ruse?
It was not, I came to do both. Oh!
Penny, calm down. You know your
cousin has every right to be upset.
Thank you. Er, you're not allowed
to speak! No more speaking from you!
George, is everything all right?
Sir, forgive me for the disturbance,
I was just making an arrest.
Sir, a man just phoned
from the demolition site,
it seems another body's been
discovered there. What?!
As if two adults aren't bad enough,
someone dumps a child
like a piece of rubbish.
Something's different here, sir.
I don't believe
this body was dumped.
The child is dressed in baptismal
gowns and wrapped in blankets.
It was buried with love. If there's
love in that grave, I don't see it.
Perhaps the Blakes had
a second child.
That's unlikely.
Mary Blake had undergone a
hysterectomy due to postpartum
haemorrhaging after Rebecca's birth.
It's no coincidence that the body
was buried just a few yards
away from the Blakes.
So whose baby is it?
I believe I know.
That's enough.
This was your child, then?
We named him Martin.
He was just six months old when he...
He died of congenital heart failure,
there's nothing you could
have done.
Why did you bury him like you did?
We were just children ourselves.
Frightened we did something wrong.
Constable, please escort
the Hastings back to the station,
they're to be charged with murder.
Oh, no!
No, no, no, no, no!
William!
The child died of natural causes.
And was buried less than 10 feet
away from the Blakes.
That was no coincidence.
So if they buried the Blakes...
Then they murdered them as well.
Mr Hastings, you have lied to me
at every turn.
Yes. We buried them,
but we didn't kill them.
We were trying to kill ourselves.
I don't understand.
Rebecca and I had fallen in love.
We kept it a secret,
but when Rebecca became pregnant,
we had to tell the Blakes.
Mother and father were enraged. They
threatened to have Charlie arrested
on trumped-up charges of theft.
And they wanted Rebecca to take
something to get rid of the baby.
We would have run away,
but we had nowhere to go.
Rebecca told me to leave, but I
wasn't going to abandon her to them.
We saw no way out of the situation.
Except for suicide? Yes.
And how were you planning to do it?
The Blakes used cyanide on their
farm as pesticide. I stole some.
We made a draught with the cyanide
and put it in an old laudanum bottle.
Rebecca's parents
had the habit of taking laudanum
every night to help them sleep.
We planned to use some of
their laudanum in our poison,
with the mind of making
our deaths less painful.
We said our goodbyes and fell asleep.
But in the morning, you awoke?
We...we had no idea
why it didn't work.
Until we saw my parents.
That's when I realised
I'd made a terrible mistake,
I'd inadvertently switched
the cyanide with the laudanum.
The bottles were identical.
We were so frightened. We panicked,
buried the bodies in the backyard
and told the children that
the Blakes had just up and left.
If Charlie had accidentally
switched the bottles,
then the Blakes would have ingested
laudanum as well as cyanide.
Would the laudanum still be
in their bodies? It would be.
But it isn't?
Just cyanide.
I'm afraid they're lying. Oh.
And I wanted so much
to believe them.
Yes, it's a shame.
What will happen to the Hastings?
Will they hang?
If you'll please excuse me, Julia.
There was no laudanum found
in the Blakes' bodies.
You never switched the bottles
and this was no accident.
But what we told you was...
The truth?
I think one of you had something
to do with the Blakes' death,
I'm not sure which one,
and perhaps you never even
admitted it to one another.
But don't you think it's time
to set the record straight?
Arrest me.
I will not. George Crabtree,
you arrest me right now!
For what? I, too, was undressed
and about to engage in carnal acts.
Penny, you came here and asked to
stay with me under false pretences.
We plan to be married,
George, I love him!
Penny, you are 16,
you don't know what love is.
That's practically an adult.
You're behaving like a child.
You're the one who arrested
Clarence for no reason,
just because you're angry.
I'm begging you, let him go. He put
you in a compromising position and
I have to charge him accordingly.
But that will go on his permanent
record. He wants to attend medical
school, it will destroy his life.
If I go home and promise not
to see him again, will you
please let him go?
What about your schooling?
I'll make other arrangements.
I love him, I won't let you ruin
his life just because of me.
Please, George, let him go.
Either they both did it or one of
them did it. So charge them both.
We don't have enough evidence,
and no jury would ever convict
them, a sweet old couple like that.
Age is no reason for amnesty,
Murdoch, you said it yourself.
I'm aware of that, sir.
But let's say one of them did switch
the bottles and the other one is
innocent, that's reasonable doubt.
And if they stick to their story,
well... So break their story.
Interrogate them separately, get one
of them to confess. By what means?
You'll figure it out.
You can solve this, Murdoch,
I know you can.
Thank you, sir.
Sir, the reporter from the
New York Times is on the line.
He wants to confirm your interview
at eight.
Excellent, good. An interview, sir?
With a reporter? He came all the way
from New York to pursue this story.
Which story would that be? The
discovery of mummified remains, or
the subsequent murder investigation?
Both. Well, you can't tell one
without the other, can you?
Ah, so you would like
a satisfactory outcome?
Of course, don't you?
The eyes of the world's press
are upon us, Murdoch.
Sir, given your distaste for
the press, perhaps I should take
this interview off your hands?
That's very kind of you,
but I think this case needs you more.
Excuse me, sirs, Charlie Hastings
would like to speak with you.
I killed the Blakes.
I switched the bottles on purpose.
I didn't put any laudanum in, just
went in and switched the two bottles.
I meant to do it.
I wanted them dead.
Are you willing to put
your confession to paper?
Yes, just as long as you understand,
I did this alone.
Rebecca had nothing to do with it.
George, can you join me with a pen
and paper? We need to draw up
a confession for Mr Hastings.
Sir, Rebecca Hastings
is asking for you.
I've put her in the interview room.
I killed my parents.
You did?
I couldn't go along with the suicide.
I wanted to live with Charlie,
not die with him,
but I knew he would never have
gone along with my new plan.
Which was?
I switched the cyanide
with the laudanum.
I killed my parents.
I see.
So if they both switched
the bottles,
the second switch would have
cancelled out the first one, so they
can't both be telling the truth.
That means one of them gave
a false confession.
If Rebecca switched the bottles and
Charlie mixed the two concoctions,
they would have also gotten
a dose of the cyanide.
They would have died
along with the Blakes.
But if Charlie alone
switched the bottles,
then they live and the Blakes die.
So Charlie's our man?
Unless...
What if they're both lying?
I mean, what if Charlie is
confessing to save Rebecca, Rebecca
is confessing to save Charlie?
Maybe they're making that sacrifice
for each other.
But if they're both lying...
It means they are both telling the
truth. About the suicide, that is.
Oh, but then the Blakes would have
had laudanum in their stomachs.
Which they didn't.
What if one of the other children
made the switch?
Bloody hell, Crabtree!
We've solved it, it's Charlie.
What did you say?
I don't know, what if one of the
other children switched the bottles?
Sir, he has a point.
George, bring everyone back in here.
Mrs Hastings, you claim that
you switched the laudanum bottle,
unbeknownst to anyone else.
But I believe that you're simply
protecting your husband.
That's not true! It is.
And I also believe that Mr Hastings
is doing the same on your behalf.
He's right. Now, that leaves
the other children in the household.
All of you had both motive
and opportunity.
The Blakes were so awful that you
can barely speak of it, Mr Webster.
Mrs Nugent, you suffered a beating
on the evening that the Blakes died.
And then there's little
Horace Mooney, who claims
to barely remember a thing
because he was only five.
You were the youngest
and also the smallest.
Now, can anyone tell me on
this diagram where the laudanum
bottle was kept?
Right here in the hutch,
on the shelf. Which shelf?
The middle shelf.
The middle shelf.
Now, Mrs Nugent, you suffered
a beating on that fateful evening
because Mr Blake thought
you had been stealing candy.
Where was the candy kept?
On the top shelf.
The top shelf.
And why was it kept
on the top shelf?
Because I could reach the others.
You could reach the others.
Including the shelf
where the laudanum was kept? Yes.
So in that case, you didn't need
a chair to reach the laudanum bottle
and switch it? No.
But there was a chair there
that evening, wasn't there?
Yes.
Was the chair there when you
changed the bottle, Mr Hastings?
I don't recall. No, if it was,
I would have put it back.
So what was the chair doing there?
The only person who would have
needed the chair to reach the lower
shelf where the laudanum was kept
was little Horace Mooney.
But how could you say that?
That's a ridiculous notion.
He's right.
I don't remember much
about that age,
but I do remember that night.
I overheard Charlie and Rebecca,
they were talking about going away.
You overheard them
planning their suicide.
They saw how scared I was, so they
told me they were just taking
a magic disappearing potion that
would make them go away for a while.
We told him it was similar
to the "happy potion"
the Blakes drank each night.
The laudanum. Yes.
But you didn't want them
to disappear, did you?
No.
That night, I stole into their room
with a fresh bottle of happy potion
from the cellar, which I...
I put in place of the...
..what I presumed to be
the disappearing potion.
So when I switched the laudanum
with the cyanide, I was only...
Adding laudanum to laudanum.
I made sure that Charlie
and Rebecca didn't disappear.
But that wasn't enough,
was it, Mr Mooney?
I was afraid that as long
as the Blakes were around,
Charlie and Rebecca would try
to disappear again.
So you gave the Blakes Charlie and
Rebecca's disappearing potion,
the one that contained cyanide.
After Charlie left,
you replaced the laudanum bottle
with the disappearing potion.
But to reach it,
you had to drag a chair over,
and that's where you left it.
I was too young to understand
what "disappearing" meant.
The next day,
Charlie and Rebecca told us
that the Blakes had gone
and they were going to be
taking care of us.
I guess the potion worked.
Horace, you kept
this secret all this time?
That must have been a heavy load
for such a young man.
I never gave it much thought.
It was years before I understood
what I'd done, and...
..I can't say I regret it.
What's going to happen to Horace,
detective?
Well, we can't very well convict a
man for misunderstanding the meaning
of a word when he was five years old,
can we? No, sir, we can't.
Truly?
You mean I'm free to go?
You are. You all are.
Sir? It's almost eight o'clock,
you asked me to remind you.
Bloody hell, what will I tell
the New York Times now?
That we've solved the case
but not made any arrests?
Well, sir, you could always dazzle
them with scientific information
about the details of mummification.
When have you ever heard me use
a scientific term in a sentence?
You'll be fine, sir,
just stick to the facts.
You should get a move on, sir.
How do I look? Really?
You look very handsome, sir.
Penny! Clarence!
All right, not so fast.
Now, listen, I know you say
you're in love... We are in love!
I believe you. I just don't want
you to rush into anything.
So I've written a list of conditions.
"Until you should decide to get
married, you have to agree
to be chaperoned at all times."
Is that all?
That's a sacrifice that two people
in love would be willing to make.
Do you agree?
I do. I do, too. Thank you, Georgie!
I'll treat her well, sir.
All right, that's enough, now.
This is my workplace.
I wonder how the inspector's
interview is faring.
Very well, I should think.
He is surprisingly sentimental
about romantic stories like this,
he'll do it justice.
You find this romantic?
Certainly.
Out of adversity grew
a family, of sorts.
It's important to you,
isn't it, family?
Oh, yes.
My family life was so erratic,
I suppose it made me crave my own
close-knit family some day.
You deserve such happiness.
As do you. If that's what you want.
Is that what you want?
Yes. Yes, of course.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd
Bring it here, OK?
I want these hods on the back of
that thing, OK? What's he up to?
You two, get in there.
Right? Come on.
Lamby!
We're already behind schedule,
what do you think you're doing?
They look like gargoyles, sir.
The contortions of the bodies
would suggest poisoning.
An astute hypothesis, detective.
Cyanide, perhaps? That would
explain the clenched fists.
What about the colour of their skin?
Stained by the damp earth, I suspect.
Cyanide is often used in suicides.
Perhaps they killed themselves.
How did they then bury
themselves, George?
Point taken, sir. So a murder, then?
Judging by the condition,
I suspect they were killed
within the last two weeks.
Not likely.
There was a shed
built over those piles.
Could someone have cut the
floorboards, then, to bury them?
No, Lamby and myself would
have noticed a thing like that.
When was the shed demolished?
We took up the floor this morning.
So the bodies were buried
before the shed was built?
Any idea when that might have been?
About five years ago,
as I recollect. Five years?
So they were lying there
in the ground all of this time,
perfectly preserved?
Five years in the ground and they've
not decomposed? How's that possible?
They were buried in
sphagnum moss, sir.
Moss? As in peat moss?
Yes, its acidic nature acts
as a sort of preservative.
The watery, airless conditions
prevent organic matter
from decomposing.
I've never heard of such a thing.
Well, sir, there has been
a recorded case just this year.
A young girl was found in a peat bog
in the Netherlands, she was...
I'll take your word for it.
So whoever built this shed
did it to conceal the bodies?
That would be the owner of
the factory, a James Kirkham.
I've asked George to find him
and determine the nature
of his business.
I did ask him to be quick.
Oh, good, because with a five
year-old case, we wouldn't want
the trail to go cold, would we?
Remarkable. I'm receiving telegrams
from universities and museums,
all but begging for information.
This is a very rare find.
Did you know that earlier this year,
the body of a mummified woman...
Was discovered in the Netherlands,
preserved in a peat bog
just like this.
Yes.
So, what have you learnt, doctor?
Well, they're a male and female,
obviously, both approximately
40 years of age.
And how did you determine that?
Fine wrinkles where the skin
has been folded on itself.
People go grey at different rates,
but skin breakdown is fairly uniform.
Of particular interest, their
internal organs are entirely intact,
as are their stomach contents.
It looks like partially digested
meat, potato and onion.
And cyanide, in both stomachs.
They were definitely poisoned.
Were they husband and wife,
or brother and sister?
They are similar ages, and the fact
they shared the same last meal
would suggest they cohabited.
Yes, and there's this.
The dental apparatus I found
in the woman's mouth.
Are these teeth human?
I'd guess goat or calf.
Clearly, the dentist they visited
employed primitive techniques.
Or they could have been immigrants
from Eastern Europe, perhaps?
Well, this is an excellent start.
Yes, well, I may have saved
the best for last.
It's like it's staring at me, sir.
Yes, quite realistic, isn't it?
How would one keep it
from falling out?
I mean, imagine how embarrassing,
at a lovely romantic dinner and...
Your glass eye falls into your soup.
Not this one, George.
This one is very well made.
It would have been custom fitted
to the man's eye socket.
There appears to be an
identification mark of some sort.
Something to offer us
some insight, sir?
George, there's a very attractive
young lady to see you here.
Georgie! Penny! Oh, my!
Hello. Yes, thank you,
that will be all, Higgins.
Georgie, how wonderful to see you.
The trip was long and the
rail car had a odour,
but it went by quickly,
and Toronto is bigger than
I thought it would be.
You look so smart in your uniform!
Is that a glass eye?
I do believe it's staring at me.
Relative of yours, George?
Please allow me to introduce you
to my cousin, Miss Penny Renton.
This is Detective Murdoch.
Pleasure to make your acquaintance,
Miss Renton.
Sir. If you don't mind,
Georgie's always writing home
about your brilliant ideas
and how many experiments you do
and how he's so much wishing
he will be like you one day.
Penny tends to go on
quite a bit, sir.
She came all the way from Belleville
to attend secretarial school.
Well, in that case, I wish you all
the success in the world.
Now, if you don't mind, I have
a couple of things I need to discuss
with Constable Crabtree.
Constable Crabtree! Of course.
Sir, about the letters,
she tends to exaggerate.
It's quite all right, George.
Um, I looked into the factory
and its owner
and I think you'll be particularly
interested in what they made there.
Very good. And please find out
all you can about this glass eye -
where it was manufactured,
when and for whom.
Sir, I will look into it.
I'm nipping this in the bud.
As I already told your colleague,
there'll be no photographs
of the bodies released,
nor any details of this case.
Yes, you can call back
later if you wish.
But don't expect to hear anything
differently. Thank you. Bye-bye.
Bloody reporters. That's
the third one I've had sniffing
around for your mummies, Murdoch.
Buried treasure, I understand,
but buried bodies? What's this?
Information on James Kirkham,
the factory owner who built
the shed over the burial site.
It was an electroplating factory.
Any significance in that?
An electrolyte used in both gold
and silver electroplating
is a cyanide solution.
Poison responsible for the deaths.
You think the bodies may have
been factory workers?
Apparently Kirkham was
very hard on his employees.
Check missing persons reports
from the period.
Already looking into it, sir.
He'd quite a violent streak,
this fella.
Kirkham was arrested twice
for harassment and
three times for assault.
He does them in, up goes the shed
and no-one's the wiser.
Am I really here
to talk about a shed?
Two people were found buried
underneath that shed.
You think I had something
to do with it?
They died of cyanide poisoning.
You used cyanide in your factory.
Yes, but I didn't feed it
to anybody.
These people were murdered,
Mr Kirkham, and then buried
beneath a shed you built.
Be that as it may,
I didn't murder them.
You owed many people money,
did you not? Still do.
Did any of them ever come
to your factory to collect?
Afraid I can't answer that.
I beg your pardon?
I'm involved in several disputes
of a civil nature.
My lawyer has forbidden me
to discuss any details regarding
my debt obligations.
Are you deliberately evading
my inquiries, Mr Kirkham?
I'm doing no such thing. I'm free
to talk at length about my shed.
Two people have been murdered, and I
believe you know something about it.
You will either tell me... Sir?
Excuse me. A word?
I'm in the middle of an interview,
George. That's why I felt
I had to interrupt you.
What do you mean? Sir, the glass eye
found in our male body was made
by an oculist named Brian Winston.
Winston stopped manufacturing glass
eyes in 1850, almost 50 years ago.
What does that mean? 1850 is the
last year our male victim could
have been fitted with the eye.
If he was 18 at the time, which he
would have had to have been to have
been fitted with a custom glass eye,
and 40 when he died, 1872 is
the last year he could have died.
Before the electroplating factory
was even built.
Which would exonerate Mr Kirkham.
And those bodies have remained
perfectly preserved all this time?
Yes, sir.
25 years, is this even worth
pursuing, Murdoch?
The culprit's probably dead by now.
Age isn't amnesty, sir.
Two people have been murdered.
We owe it to the victims to find
out the truth about their deaths.
If the killer is out there,
I'll find him.
This map, dated 1888, clearly shows
the Kirkham factory.
The X is where the bodies
were found. That's right.
This one, dated 1872...
The last year that we believe
our mystery mummies
could have been killed.
Right. It was mostly farmland
back then, but there is a house
approximately 20 yards from
where the bodies were found.
When was the house torn down?
1880. Sir?
Any luck at City Records, Crabtree?
The land and the surrounding area
was purchased from City Hall in 1852.
Whoever owned that house must know
something about those bodies.
Could well be our killer.
George, were you able to find out
who purchased the house?
His name is Horace Mooney.
On the old farm?
Yes. Well, I wish I knew how
I could help you, detective,
but I haven't lived there
since I sold the place in...
1879. That's right.
The bodies have been there since
at least 1872, Mr Mooney.
You were living there during
that time, were you not? I was.
Then perhaps you can explain how
two people came to be buried
less than 20 yards from your door
without you noticing?
That's a very good question,
detective, and I wish
I knew the answer.
I believe you do.
And whether you buried them
or murdered them as well...
Murder? Detective, I didn't
kill them, I didn't bury them.
I honestly wish there was something
I could do to help you out.
Perhaps there is.
Do you recognise them, Mr Mooney?
How can they still be preserved
like this?
They're mummified.
Do you recognise them?
No.
Someone who went missing, perhaps?
Neighbours, farm hands?
No.
So, complete strangers
were buried on your property
without your knowledge?
I suppose so.
If that's all?
Yes, Mr Mooney, that's all.
For now.
What do you make of his reaction
to the bodies?
It's hard to say. He certainly seemed
to study them with great interest.
Do you think he's their killer?
I don't know,
but I'm convinced he knows
more than he's saying.
But how do I prove it
after 25 years?
I think I might have something
that will cheer you up.
At first I thought it was a birthmark
or discolouration from having been
in the ground for so long,
but I realised...
It's a tattoo.
Military, perhaps?
You're right, Julia,
this has cheered me up.
Sir? Ah, Murdoch.
I've just received a telegram from
the Times in London, they want to do
a featured article on the mummies.
Word has spread to London, sir?
Can you believe it? Murdoch,
I think these bodies are considerably
more significant than we thought.
You don't say.
What have you got there?
Our male mummy had some kind of
military tattoo on his arm.
Can you identify it?
You're not going to believe this,
sir, but the insignia is of
the Caldwell Rangers,
a Canadian regiment that last fought
in the war of 1812.
1812?
Based on Dr Ogden's estimate of
their ages and my assumption that
he was at least 16 years old
when he joined the regiment in 1812,
the murders had to have occurred
before 1836. That's 60 years ago.
Which puts Horace Mooney
in the clear.
I was certain he knew something.
Toronto wasn't much of a city
back then. Less than 10,000 people.
Would have been quiet and safe,
not this sprawling, foul-smelling
place we live in today.
This is what our murder site would
have looked like back in 1836.
It's all fields west of Spadina,
College Street didn't even exist.
What have you, George?
Sirs, the property was originally
owned by a Samuel and Mary Blake.
They built the house there in 1815,
farmed there until 1850 when the
land was expropriated by the city.
For what? An insane asylum.
But then plans changed, the asylum
was built on Queen Street and
the land was auctioned in 1852...
To Horace Mooney.
Well, that clears things up
somewhat.
One other thing, sirs,
the Blakes had a child, a daughter.
Her married name's Rebecca Hastings.
She's still alive and I have
her address.
Hello!
Mrs Hastings?
Mrs Rebecca Hastings?
Yes? How can I help you?
I'm Detective William Murdoch
of the Toronto Constabulary.
Oh, dear, has something happened?
Oh, goodness, no.
I didn't mean to alarm you.
I just have some questions for you.
Of course.
Are these your grandchildren?
Great-grandchildren, actually.
Charlie Hastings.
Detective William Murdoch.
Now, what can we do for you?
Excuse me, ma'am,
do you teach at the secreta...
Pardon me!
Excuse me, ma'am, do you t...
Pardon me. Pardon.
Oh, of course. Pardon me, ma'am...
Yes, is there a problem, Constable?
Yes. Well, no. I'm here to meet
my cousin, Penny Renton.
She began her first day
of class here...
She absolutely did not.
Classes begin tomorrow.
Are you quite certain, ma'am?
I dropped Penny here this morning.
She must have realised
her mistake and left.
Yes, of course.
Good day, ma'am.
Lovely. Thank you, Mrs Hastings.
I was hoping to speak to you about
your parents, Mr and Mrs Blake.
Goodness me, whatever for?
We recently found two well-preserved
bodies buried on the property they
once owned. That's disturbing news.
It appears the bodies were buried
at a time when your parents still
owned the property, around 1836.
I don't know how I can help you.
I'd left the farm by that time.
And how old were you then? 15.
15? That's rather young to be
off on your own, isn't it?
Oh, I wasn't on my own.
Charlie left with me.
Mr Hastings?
You lived at the home as well?
I was indentured. My parents
couldn't afford to keep me,
so they sent me to the Blake farm
to work in exchange
for food and lodgings.
And your parents must not have taken
too kindly to you being courted
by an indentured servant?
No, they did not.
When we tell them we wanted to marry,
they were very angry. So we left.
And did you keep in touch with
your parents? Not very much.
My mother died shortly after
the sale of the property, my father
followed a couple of years later.
So you have no idea who the people
we found buried might be?
Not at all. I wonder, would you be
willing to look at the bodies?
Perhaps it could trigger
a memory, however small,
that could help us identify them.
Well, if it will help.
SHE SHRIEKS
Oh, those poor people!
They look frozen in time.
Do you recognise them?
I'm trying to think.
Well, I can't say that I've ever
seen them before in my life.
Are you absolutely sure? Yes.
Thank you both for coming,
it's most appreciated.
You don't need to pull on me,
I can walk on my own!
I found her in Allan Gardens. What?!
I can't believe you sent the police.
She was talking with a young man.
What?!
I was merely asking for directions.
Penny Elizabeth Harriet Renton,
what were you thinking?
You could have been harmed. I...
I don't want to hear it. I went
to your secretarial school
to pick you up,
only to find that your classes
begin tomorrow.
I'm afraid that in all
the excitement I mixed up the dates.
And you didn't come back
to the station because...?
I was embarrassed. My first day in
the big city and I get it all wrong.
Georgie, please don't be mad at me.
Constable.
Are you hungry?
I've got some bread and some cheese.
I'll get you something warmer
in a little bit.
Sir?
I found something I believe you will
find intriguing. Yes, George?
Well, I looked into
the Caldwell Rangers and I found
an officers list.
That fellow who used to own the
property, Samuel Blake, is on it.
Really?
Sir, it would be my guess that the
buried bodies are those of Samuel
and Mary Blake. Very good, George.
Which means we have identified our
mummies - Rebecca Hastings' parents.
Yes, but it also means Charlie
and Rebecca Hastings lied to me.
The bodies you saw in the morgue
were those of your parents,
Mrs Hastings.
There's no way
you couldn't have known that.
They looked so different,
and it's been such a long time.
I simply didn't recognise them.
You told me your parents died
after the sale of the property.
That was in 1850.
You lied to me. Why?
Did you murder them? Murder?!
No! Charlie?
Rebecca, we need
to tell him the truth.
You were right,
we didn't leave the farm.
It was my parents who left.
At least, that's what we thought
until you showed us their bodies.
When did they leave?
Round 1836.
They just disappeared.
We never saw them again.
And you never went
to the authorities?
What authorities?
There were no police then
the way there are now.
At least none that you could trust,
at any rate.
We knew something must have
happened to them, but we never
had any idea what.
We impersonated my parents
by forging their signatures
on the sales documents.
And we always feared
this day would come.
Are you going to arrest us?
Not for forgery, no.
But I am conducting
a murder investigation.
Oh, sir?
According to the House of Industry
Records, Charlie Hastings was not
the only indentured child
living at the Blakes'
when they disappeared.
There were three other children.
Really? Still living?
All of them, sir,
including one Horace Mooney.
Find them and bring them in
for questioning. Sir.
Sir?
Sir?
Sorry to disturb you, sir,
but you have a telephone call.
Another reporter? This one's
from the New York Times, sir.
New York Times?
Put it through. Right away.
Pardon me. Excuse me,
I received a note at the university
that I should come down here at once.
My name is Michael Webster. No?!
Excuse me, ma'am?
Why, it is you!
You little turkey!
No-one has called me that...
Alice?!
I really don't know what more
I can tell you people, constable.
We just have a few more questions,
Mr Mooney.
Horace! It's Michael, and Alice.
My goodness!
Horace! It's a strange place for
a reunion, but I'll take it!
Now, what in the world did they
drag us all down here for?
Mr Mooney, you say that you didn't
recognise the bodies of Samuel and
Mary Blake, yet you lived with them.
I didn't recognise them.
The last time I laid eyes on them,
I was five years old.
And then they left.
Did you not wonder where they went?
To be honest, not really.
I was glad.
They were horrible.
They just upped and left,
as I recall.
And you never heard from them
again, Miss Nugent?
No. And I didn't care one whit.
That was a...
That was a cold thing to say.
They were, for all intents
and purposes, your parents.
My parents died when I was 10,
the Blakes were my keepers.
You felt bitter about working
for food and board?
I was bitter about 18 hours
of farm work a day,
and the beatings to top it off.
Beatings?
They were mean, those Blakes. Never
a smile or a kind word from them.
Yet years later,
you bought the house.
Why would you do that if there were
such terrible memories?
Because after the Blakes disappeared
there were nothing
but good memories.
Rebecca and Charlie became like
a mother and father to us.
We were family.
Can you tell me anything about
the last time you saw the Blakes?
My last memory is hearing
old man Blake take his belt
to Alice's backside.
I didn't deserve it. He stubbed
his toe on a chair and accused me
of pulling it to the hutch
to steal candy from
the top shelf, but I didn't.
The next morning, they were gone.
Who do you think killed them?
I've no idea.
I'm sorry, detective,
I can't help you with that.
Don't know, don't care.
We were just happy they were gone.
So all their stories match.
They have remarkable memories
for old people.
Except about what happened
to the Blakes.
They could be telling
the truth, sir.
The Blakes could have enemies
that their children didn't
know about. I don't think so.
I think Alice, Horace and Michael
are lying to protect the Hastings.
Or they all did the mean bastards in
to protect each other.
I don't know what's worse,
these sweet old people
killing the Blakes,
or to think of them as
young children, doing the same.
Either way, I think we are finally
getting closer to finding out
what happened in that house
and who was involved.
Off you go, now, ladies.
No loitering. All of you, let's go.
Good evening!
Hello again, ma'am.
Constable, you must be here
to meet Miss Renton.
I am. I have the correct day
today, I hope.
Yes, congratulations, constable.
However, you do not have
the correct time.
Ma'am, if classes end at 4.30,
I'm nearly a full hour early.
Class is over at 3.30, something
you might have checked first.
I'm certain Penny told me 4.30.
Constable, young girls do not have
the capacity to focus.
Their minds wander aimlessly
unless given proper instruction.
Yes, ma'am.
Something I fear you are not doing.
Ma'am, she's usually
a very responsible girl.
You must be responsible for her.
You are her guardian, are you not?
I am, ma'am.
I'll look for her straight away.
Thank you.
Constable, Miss Renton went
in that direction.
Thank you again, ma'am.
You're too kind.
GIGGLING FROM NEXT ROOM
Oh, I don't think so!
Penny, what in God's name
is going on here?!
George! Oh, my gosh!
You get your hands off her!
George, you don't understand!
Oh, I understand! This randy
scoundrel is trying to take advantage
of an innocent young girl!
I'm 16! Sir, I was only...
Oh, yes, I know what you
were only, you goat!
I should have you penned up
in the rams' pasture!
What are you doing?
This...whatever his name is
is under arrest.
For what? Public indecency.
We're indoors.
The curtains are see-through.
What has that to do with anything?
Well, it means that any member of the
public could witness this indecency.
Now get a move on.
George Crabtree, you let him go!
Penny, I'm doing this
for your own good.
Clarence is my true love!
Don't be ridiculous!
You arrived two days ago,
you have only just met.
I've known him six months.
You came here to be with a boy?
The school was just a ruse?
It was not, I came to do both. Oh!
Penny, calm down. You know your
cousin has every right to be upset.
Thank you. Er, you're not allowed
to speak! No more speaking from you!
George, is everything all right?
Sir, forgive me for the disturbance,
I was just making an arrest.
Sir, a man just phoned
from the demolition site,
it seems another body's been
discovered there. What?!
As if two adults aren't bad enough,
someone dumps a child
like a piece of rubbish.
Something's different here, sir.
I don't believe
this body was dumped.
The child is dressed in baptismal
gowns and wrapped in blankets.
It was buried with love. If there's
love in that grave, I don't see it.
Perhaps the Blakes had
a second child.
That's unlikely.
Mary Blake had undergone a
hysterectomy due to postpartum
haemorrhaging after Rebecca's birth.
It's no coincidence that the body
was buried just a few yards
away from the Blakes.
So whose baby is it?
I believe I know.
That's enough.
This was your child, then?
We named him Martin.
He was just six months old when he...
He died of congenital heart failure,
there's nothing you could
have done.
Why did you bury him like you did?
We were just children ourselves.
Frightened we did something wrong.
Constable, please escort
the Hastings back to the station,
they're to be charged with murder.
Oh, no!
No, no, no, no, no!
William!
The child died of natural causes.
And was buried less than 10 feet
away from the Blakes.
That was no coincidence.
So if they buried the Blakes...
Then they murdered them as well.
Mr Hastings, you have lied to me
at every turn.
Yes. We buried them,
but we didn't kill them.
We were trying to kill ourselves.
I don't understand.
Rebecca and I had fallen in love.
We kept it a secret,
but when Rebecca became pregnant,
we had to tell the Blakes.
Mother and father were enraged. They
threatened to have Charlie arrested
on trumped-up charges of theft.
And they wanted Rebecca to take
something to get rid of the baby.
We would have run away,
but we had nowhere to go.
Rebecca told me to leave, but I
wasn't going to abandon her to them.
We saw no way out of the situation.
Except for suicide? Yes.
And how were you planning to do it?
The Blakes used cyanide on their
farm as pesticide. I stole some.
We made a draught with the cyanide
and put it in an old laudanum bottle.
Rebecca's parents
had the habit of taking laudanum
every night to help them sleep.
We planned to use some of
their laudanum in our poison,
with the mind of making
our deaths less painful.
We said our goodbyes and fell asleep.
But in the morning, you awoke?
We...we had no idea
why it didn't work.
Until we saw my parents.
That's when I realised
I'd made a terrible mistake,
I'd inadvertently switched
the cyanide with the laudanum.
The bottles were identical.
We were so frightened. We panicked,
buried the bodies in the backyard
and told the children that
the Blakes had just up and left.
If Charlie had accidentally
switched the bottles,
then the Blakes would have ingested
laudanum as well as cyanide.
Would the laudanum still be
in their bodies? It would be.
But it isn't?
Just cyanide.
I'm afraid they're lying. Oh.
And I wanted so much
to believe them.
Yes, it's a shame.
What will happen to the Hastings?
Will they hang?
If you'll please excuse me, Julia.
There was no laudanum found
in the Blakes' bodies.
You never switched the bottles
and this was no accident.
But what we told you was...
The truth?
I think one of you had something
to do with the Blakes' death,
I'm not sure which one,
and perhaps you never even
admitted it to one another.
But don't you think it's time
to set the record straight?
Arrest me.
I will not. George Crabtree,
you arrest me right now!
For what? I, too, was undressed
and about to engage in carnal acts.
Penny, you came here and asked to
stay with me under false pretences.
We plan to be married,
George, I love him!
Penny, you are 16,
you don't know what love is.
That's practically an adult.
You're behaving like a child.
You're the one who arrested
Clarence for no reason,
just because you're angry.
I'm begging you, let him go. He put
you in a compromising position and
I have to charge him accordingly.
But that will go on his permanent
record. He wants to attend medical
school, it will destroy his life.
If I go home and promise not
to see him again, will you
please let him go?
What about your schooling?
I'll make other arrangements.
I love him, I won't let you ruin
his life just because of me.
Please, George, let him go.
Either they both did it or one of
them did it. So charge them both.
We don't have enough evidence,
and no jury would ever convict
them, a sweet old couple like that.
Age is no reason for amnesty,
Murdoch, you said it yourself.
I'm aware of that, sir.
But let's say one of them did switch
the bottles and the other one is
innocent, that's reasonable doubt.
And if they stick to their story,
well... So break their story.
Interrogate them separately, get one
of them to confess. By what means?
You'll figure it out.
You can solve this, Murdoch,
I know you can.
Thank you, sir.
Sir, the reporter from the
New York Times is on the line.
He wants to confirm your interview
at eight.
Excellent, good. An interview, sir?
With a reporter? He came all the way
from New York to pursue this story.
Which story would that be? The
discovery of mummified remains, or
the subsequent murder investigation?
Both. Well, you can't tell one
without the other, can you?
Ah, so you would like
a satisfactory outcome?
Of course, don't you?
The eyes of the world's press
are upon us, Murdoch.
Sir, given your distaste for
the press, perhaps I should take
this interview off your hands?
That's very kind of you,
but I think this case needs you more.
Excuse me, sirs, Charlie Hastings
would like to speak with you.
I killed the Blakes.
I switched the bottles on purpose.
I didn't put any laudanum in, just
went in and switched the two bottles.
I meant to do it.
I wanted them dead.
Are you willing to put
your confession to paper?
Yes, just as long as you understand,
I did this alone.
Rebecca had nothing to do with it.
George, can you join me with a pen
and paper? We need to draw up
a confession for Mr Hastings.
Sir, Rebecca Hastings
is asking for you.
I've put her in the interview room.
I killed my parents.
You did?
I couldn't go along with the suicide.
I wanted to live with Charlie,
not die with him,
but I knew he would never have
gone along with my new plan.
Which was?
I switched the cyanide
with the laudanum.
I killed my parents.
I see.
So if they both switched
the bottles,
the second switch would have
cancelled out the first one, so they
can't both be telling the truth.
That means one of them gave
a false confession.
If Rebecca switched the bottles and
Charlie mixed the two concoctions,
they would have also gotten
a dose of the cyanide.
They would have died
along with the Blakes.
But if Charlie alone
switched the bottles,
then they live and the Blakes die.
So Charlie's our man?
Unless...
What if they're both lying?
I mean, what if Charlie is
confessing to save Rebecca, Rebecca
is confessing to save Charlie?
Maybe they're making that sacrifice
for each other.
But if they're both lying...
It means they are both telling the
truth. About the suicide, that is.
Oh, but then the Blakes would have
had laudanum in their stomachs.
Which they didn't.
What if one of the other children
made the switch?
Bloody hell, Crabtree!
We've solved it, it's Charlie.
What did you say?
I don't know, what if one of the
other children switched the bottles?
Sir, he has a point.
George, bring everyone back in here.
Mrs Hastings, you claim that
you switched the laudanum bottle,
unbeknownst to anyone else.
But I believe that you're simply
protecting your husband.
That's not true! It is.
And I also believe that Mr Hastings
is doing the same on your behalf.
He's right. Now, that leaves
the other children in the household.
All of you had both motive
and opportunity.
The Blakes were so awful that you
can barely speak of it, Mr Webster.
Mrs Nugent, you suffered a beating
on the evening that the Blakes died.
And then there's little
Horace Mooney, who claims
to barely remember a thing
because he was only five.
You were the youngest
and also the smallest.
Now, can anyone tell me on
this diagram where the laudanum
bottle was kept?
Right here in the hutch,
on the shelf. Which shelf?
The middle shelf.
The middle shelf.
Now, Mrs Nugent, you suffered
a beating on that fateful evening
because Mr Blake thought
you had been stealing candy.
Where was the candy kept?
On the top shelf.
The top shelf.
And why was it kept
on the top shelf?
Because I could reach the others.
You could reach the others.
Including the shelf
where the laudanum was kept? Yes.
So in that case, you didn't need
a chair to reach the laudanum bottle
and switch it? No.
But there was a chair there
that evening, wasn't there?
Yes.
Was the chair there when you
changed the bottle, Mr Hastings?
I don't recall. No, if it was,
I would have put it back.
So what was the chair doing there?
The only person who would have
needed the chair to reach the lower
shelf where the laudanum was kept
was little Horace Mooney.
But how could you say that?
That's a ridiculous notion.
He's right.
I don't remember much
about that age,
but I do remember that night.
I overheard Charlie and Rebecca,
they were talking about going away.
You overheard them
planning their suicide.
They saw how scared I was, so they
told me they were just taking
a magic disappearing potion that
would make them go away for a while.
We told him it was similar
to the "happy potion"
the Blakes drank each night.
The laudanum. Yes.
But you didn't want them
to disappear, did you?
No.
That night, I stole into their room
with a fresh bottle of happy potion
from the cellar, which I...
I put in place of the...
..what I presumed to be
the disappearing potion.
So when I switched the laudanum
with the cyanide, I was only...
Adding laudanum to laudanum.
I made sure that Charlie
and Rebecca didn't disappear.
But that wasn't enough,
was it, Mr Mooney?
I was afraid that as long
as the Blakes were around,
Charlie and Rebecca would try
to disappear again.
So you gave the Blakes Charlie and
Rebecca's disappearing potion,
the one that contained cyanide.
After Charlie left,
you replaced the laudanum bottle
with the disappearing potion.
But to reach it,
you had to drag a chair over,
and that's where you left it.
I was too young to understand
what "disappearing" meant.
The next day,
Charlie and Rebecca told us
that the Blakes had gone
and they were going to be
taking care of us.
I guess the potion worked.
Horace, you kept
this secret all this time?
That must have been a heavy load
for such a young man.
I never gave it much thought.
It was years before I understood
what I'd done, and...
..I can't say I regret it.
What's going to happen to Horace,
detective?
Well, we can't very well convict a
man for misunderstanding the meaning
of a word when he was five years old,
can we? No, sir, we can't.
Truly?
You mean I'm free to go?
You are. You all are.
Sir? It's almost eight o'clock,
you asked me to remind you.
Bloody hell, what will I tell
the New York Times now?
That we've solved the case
but not made any arrests?
Well, sir, you could always dazzle
them with scientific information
about the details of mummification.
When have you ever heard me use
a scientific term in a sentence?
You'll be fine, sir,
just stick to the facts.
You should get a move on, sir.
How do I look? Really?
You look very handsome, sir.
Penny! Clarence!
All right, not so fast.
Now, listen, I know you say
you're in love... We are in love!
I believe you. I just don't want
you to rush into anything.
So I've written a list of conditions.
"Until you should decide to get
married, you have to agree
to be chaperoned at all times."
Is that all?
That's a sacrifice that two people
in love would be willing to make.
Do you agree?
I do. I do, too. Thank you, Georgie!
I'll treat her well, sir.
All right, that's enough, now.
This is my workplace.
I wonder how the inspector's
interview is faring.
Very well, I should think.
He is surprisingly sentimental
about romantic stories like this,
he'll do it justice.
You find this romantic?
Certainly.
Out of adversity grew
a family, of sorts.
It's important to you,
isn't it, family?
Oh, yes.
My family life was so erratic,
I suppose it made me crave my own
close-knit family some day.
You deserve such happiness.
As do you. If that's what you want.
Is that what you want?
Yes. Yes, of course.
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