Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 5, Episode 8 - Stroll on the Wild Side: Part 2 - full transcript

You found what you were
looking for, Mr. Faber?

Thank you for pointing me

in the right direction, Miss Messing.

Anna, what the devil are you doing here?

Hello, William.

What if the Black Hand finds you?

I'm investigating the disappearance

of Lucille Messing.

You should talk to her
fianc?, Geoffrey Coville.

He was so superior.

You enjoy wallowing in filth, don't you?



I don't know much about her,
but the man she took off with,

name of Carling.

I would suggest that there
is more to your librarian

than meets the eye.

Both notes were written in the same hand.

Perhaps someone was
directing Lucille to the book.

Devil... Drum.

If contraception we're not illegal,

families could make those
decisions for themselves.

You mean women could.

I suppose I do.

Your wife is a very spirited woman.

Yes, Julia is wonderful

and not shy about expressing her opinions.



William, what if the
Black Hand has found me

and killed Lucille by mistake?

Hello, Miss Fulford.

Please.

Please, no.

William.

Are you all right?

William, is everything...

Yes, I'm-

I'm just glad you're all right.

The shot was clean and effective.

Doctor, if I may.

I'm sorry, sir.

I've never...

If you could please
return this to the armory.

I thought the library was empty.

He just came out of nowhere.

First strangulation and now a gun.

Our library killer was becoming bolder.

This isn't the man that threatened me.

Just a moment, Doctor.

This isn't the man I spotted in the tavern.

Are you quite sure?

I swear.

That means there were at
least two of them watching you.

Anna, you are no longer safe in this city.

This is a brilliant invention.

Well, it used to be a series of likenesses,

but this seems somewhat more efficient.

William, this is him.

This is the man that I
saw in The Devil's Drum,

the same one that I
talked to in the library.

I thought it was the colic,
but he's not getting better.

Let's see what's bothering
you, young Arthur.

How are you feeling, Mrs. Blackwood?

You look tired.

To tell you the truth, Doctor,

I think I'm with child again.

Mrs. Blackwood.

I thought it couldn't happen

while an infant's still suckling.

Unfortunately, breastfeeding

is not a completely reliable
form of contraception.

Tell that to my husband.

I wish I could.

Doctor, I'm worn to the bone.

How much can a body take?

Mrs. Blackwood, you're strong.

Constable Crabtree, hello.

Dr. Grace.

I'm afraid Detective Murdoch
has gone home for the day.

Then I will leave this report with you.

Excellent.

As you may have heard,
we are to play Station 5

in a game of baseball this Saturday.

Uh, if you're not busy, maybe
you'd like to come by and watch

or cheer us on, as it were.

It's sure to be a good match-up,

and they've made me pitcher.

The pitcher?

That's quite the responsibility.

Inspector Brackenreid seems to think

I'm something of a natural talent.

Well, perhaps I will come along

and see this talent for myself.

Mr. Sato.

Detective.

Have you changed your mind
about engaging my services?

Thank you, no.

But I wondered if perhaps you had ever seen

this man before.

A hot gin, please.

Are you awaiting an escort?

I'll find one.

I don't know him.

I see.

Thank you.

Perhaps you'd care to join me, sir.

I'd be delighted, madam.

And for you, sir?

I'll have a spruce beer.

A spruce beer?

Uh, yes.

Something I developed a taste
for growing up in Nova Scotia.

Oh, I'm pleased to have the company

of such a worldly gentleman.

It would appear we may be well-matched.

Not many unaccompanied ladies
frequent this establishment.

Hmm.

What brings you here?

A friend is something of a regular.

He tells me he's met
interesting people here.

I see he's not mistaken.

It's a bit of a rough neighborhood.

That doesn't worry you?

Not in the company of courteous gentlemen.

Do you find my conduct improper?

Not at all.

Unfortunately, I have to
leave for a prior engagement.

May I have the honor of escorting you?

Thank you, no.

I don't have far to go.

Perhaps we will see each other again.

Until then.

Same red ink, and it's
the same handwriting.

Same red ink, and it's the same handwriting

as the note Lucille
Messing gave to Mr. Carling.

Whatever Lucille was up to,

another woman has taken her place.

Or maybe they were working together.

But at what?

Clearly, the young woman reveled

in creating a spectacle at the tavern.

With no shyness or
concern for her behavior.

Perhaps they were a couple of
amateur dolly mops after all.

But then, why the notes?

Hmm.

So are you going to be following up

on your mystery woman's invitation?

As part of my investigation.

And exactly how far will this
investigation of yours go?

Miss Fulford,

I believe you are
exhibiting signs of jealousy.

Well, where will I be when you're visiting

these strange women in hotel
rooms at this late hour?

You'll be sleeping right here in the cells.

Oh, lovely.

A constable will be keeping
watch until I return.

So is this my life now, is it?

I'm not a criminal,

but I'm gonna have to live like one.

No, no.

You don't have to.

You just have to trust me.

As I was saying, I'm in need
of a new desk sergeant, Jackson.

You might want to consider working here.

It's a good bunch of lads.

I'm doing fine with Inspector O'Kelly, sir.

But not on a desk sergeant's wage.

Come in. Come in. Sit down.

Thank you, sir.

Fancy a drink?

I wouldn't say no.

Thank you, sir.

That's a fine drop of scotch, Inspector.

- It goes down easy.
- Like a where's drawers.

We watch the salty language
here at Station 4, Slugger.

Then I'll be staying
with the boys in Number 5.

I keep telling you, it's money
down the drain on old Pop Smith.

He's over-the-hill
and far beyond.

You're just scared of having
your pants beaten off you

in front of your missus.

Leave my missus out of this.

Yeah?

I hear you leave her
out of a lot of things.

What's that mean?

Oh, it's all right, Jackson.

I won't tell a soul.

We can't all bat a thousand, now, can we?

If you get my meaning, right, Slugger?

You lumbering pile of...

Assault a fellow officer, would you?

You're under arrest, Jackson.

You won't be seeing any homeruns
from behind bars, sunshine.

Undress me.

Hello?

Hello?

Miss?

Miss?

Oh, no.

Any thoughts, Dr. Grace?

Similar ligature marks as
we found on Lucille Messing.

No apparent sign of a struggle,

also like Miss Messing.

Yes.

Nothing to identify the victim with.

Wait.

Her shawl is missing.

Shawl?

Yes, when I saw her several hours ago,

she was wearing a shawl, a silk shawl.

I'm finished here, Detective.

The attendants may take her to the morgue.

Thank you for coming
out at such a late hour.

It's horrible.

To think you were just talking to her

just a few hours before...

Yes.

Don't you ever want to just
leave all this ugliness behind?

I do, but I've made my life here, Anna.

But aren't you curious about the world,

about what's out there?

Well, of course, but...

We're on the cusp of
a new century, William.

Where do you want to be when
the clock strikes midnight?

Easter Island, the Roman ruins of Pompeii?

The Tibetan Steppe, maybe?

I don't think they have clocks in Tibet.

Well, we could take one with us.

What do you mean?

Then we could run away,

travel the Silk Road.

As tempting as your dreams sound,

our first priority must be the Black Hand.

Well, all the more reason

to consider what I'm talking about.

At the moment, lam considering sleep.

So should you.

Strangulation occurred

shortly before you discovered
the body, Detective.

As you speculated.

- I found this in one part of the wound:

Silk.

The missing shawl.

Could she have been strangled
by her own silk shawl?

I would need to match
the shawl to this sample.

All of her clothes were made of fine silk,

some of them quite exotically detailed.

She also wore this.

A winged man, ancient Persian motif.

It's most unusual.

There's more.

She was bound sometime prior to her death.

But the marks are quite superficial.

She doesn't appear to have struggled.

I see.

Take a look at this, Detective.

It's recent.

Similar to the mark on
Lucille Messings neck.

'Sir?

I looked into that room
at The Devil's Drum.

It seems it was rented by
a Mr. R. Stori by the month.

By the month, eh?

Sir, I find no trace of such a person.

I suspect it's an alias.

Hmm, look into that, would you, George?

Has Mr. Carling come in yet?

Sir, he's in the interview room.

Thank you.

What were you doing last night?

I was with my loving wife.

That is a barefaced lie.

I saw you myself last
night near The Devil's Drum,

where, moments later,

that young woman was found
dead in the same establishment,

and there was no loving
wife anywhere to be seen.

Room four.

She told me her name was Doris.

She'll vouch for me.

Do you recognize this woman?

I saw her at The Devil's Drum,

but she was very much alive.

When was this?

A week ago.

I walked by her table, but
she took no notice of me.

You were hoping she would?

I would not have refused the young lady.

Mr. Carling, I can now
connect you to two young women

who have both been murdered.

Your cavalier attitude isn't doing anything

to persuade me of your innocence.

I followed Lucille Messing to a hotel room,

where she instructed me to undress her.

I followed her to the library,
where she denied knowing me,

but I didn't kill her.

As for your latest victim,
I have no idea who she is.

May I go now?

Yes.

But you remain under suspicion.

Mr. Carling.

What were you looking
for at The Devil's Drum?

The unpredictable, Detective.

Excuse me.

Have you seen this woman before?

Looking for a different girl now?

Ah, Jake.

You may recall I pay
very well for information.

Have you seen this woman before?

I wish I could say I did.

Actually, Jake,

I might need your
assistance on another matter.

"Relations not for procreation"?

I don't want this sinful rubbish.

What in the bloody blazes
are you doing with this filth?

Looking after myself for once.

Know your place, woman. Get home.

- When I'm good and
ready. - When I tell you-

- You'll not raise
your hand to this woman.

You, you keep your
perverted ideas to yourself.

Another attempt to assault your wife,

and I will call the constable.

You'll regret this.

Mark my words.

You're absolutely right.

Detective Murdoch has to be

one of the most accomplished
detectives in the modern world.

- His talents would be in demand anywhere:

London, San Francisco, Paris, Rome.

He certainly has an aptitude for languages.

Yes, that he does.

So what or who keeps him in Toronto?

Well, Detective Murdoch is
not the peripatetic type.

I think he finds comfort
being in one place.

I think he thinks of this as being his home

and all of us being something of a family.

Well, maybe a change would do him good.

I recognize this woman.

You do?

Yes, she used to come
into the library regularly.

She used to like books on Persia.

Her name was, uh, Minnie Duggan.

George.

Though I never knew her name.

Miss Messing, you say?

Stanley Faber, our ornithologist.

George, escort Mr. Faber to
the station house, please.

"Slowly he undid each tiny pearl button.

"His hands fumbled at the
sheer delight of the task.

"As my robe fell open to reveal my bodice,

his hand brushed against
the swell of my bosom."

They're silly stories.

What's the harm in reading such nonsense?

Mr. Faber, these stories
are connected to not one

but two murders.

Ll don't know anything about murder.

I don't even know who the other woman is.

But you knew the
whereabouts of the booklets.

How is that?

I'm not the only man
who-who knew about them.

I ask you again, sir:

How did you know where
to find the booklets?

Mr. Faber, do I need to remind you again

of the seriousness of this crime?

It-it was the girl.

What girl?

The dead librarian.

She-she told me where to look.

Lucille Messing.

Yes.

Miss Messing.

One of the booklets is a firsthand account

of Leonard Carling's
encounter with Lucille Messing.

Yes, right down to the
removal of the last garment,

I might add.

Thank you, Crabtree.

And you, put that down. It's evidence.

If I may.

Yes, Anna.

The words used, the
details in the description,

I believe this is
written in a female voice.

Anna is of the opinion
that Lucille Messing,

and now possibly Minnie,

we're willing participants.

Really?

Whoever devised this scheme
sent the girls instructions.

After their assignations were completed,

perhaps they recounted their
adventures to the mastermind.

Who then printed and published

the titillating literature.

But then the shenanigans
went off the rails,

and the women ended up dead.

Lucille Messing, by all accounts,

was a very timid girl-

not an obvious candidate.

How did he know which
women would be willing?

Women send out signals.

Men who know how to
read them will find them.

How do they read the signals?

I wonder if a man could
learn to read the signals.

The man you're looking for, Mr. Falcone,

he's inside.

Always sits in the back.

Important sort.

Type of man I'd like to be in with.

What's your business with him?

That's no matter to you.

Thank you, Jake.

Oh, and I trust our dealings
will stay between the two of us.

Oh, you can count on my word, Mr. Murdoch.

Miss Fulford has not
wronged your organization.

It was her fianc?e?.

Nevertheless, I have a
reputation to maintain.

Maintaining this reputation

has already cost you one man, Mr. Falcone.

This Miss Fulford means something to you.

That's no business of yours.

I see.

We will leave her alone.

But?

One day, when the time is right,

you can return the favor.

What do you say?

As long as Miss Fulford
lives, you have my word.

I will return the favor.

Then we have a deal.

Is it really over?

It is.

I feel a lightness in my
step I haven't felt in months.

I can't quite believe it.

I'm free.

Well, you are. Enjoy it.

I can't thank you enough, William.

So now that I'm back at the library,

surely there's a way I can help
you with your investigation.

Yes. Yes, you can.

Try winning the game with your
ringer sitting in my jail cell,

O'Kelly.

' MY ringer?

What's so funny?

Oh, knock yourself out, Brackenreid.

You can keep him locked
up as long as you like.

What do you mean?

You think Slugger Jackson is my ringer?

That lad couldn't hit a
baseball to save his life.

I saw his homerun with my own eyes.

It sailed out of the park.

It was a fluke, Brackenreid.

A fluke.

So if he's not your ringer, who is?

You didn't see my pitcher.

Put that down, George.

Sir, it's important police work.

Have you found the printer of
Miss Rose Petal's booklets yet?

Uh, no, sir.

I still have to compare the watermarks

to some of the various
samples I've collected.

Sir, I think you should listen to this.

"My breath quickened.

"'I would never hurt you, my beauty, '

"he whispered softly as
his nimble brown fingers

tied the soft silk ropes around my wrists."

Silk ropes.

Yes, sir.

"The sultan gave a soft sigh of excitement.

"The door to his tent
fell closed behind him.

I felt of jolt of excitement
as he tied the final knot."

What do you think?

Silk ropes, no struggle:

The story matches the evidence
on Minnie Duggan's body.

Well observed, Constable.

You obviously read the
booklets very carefully.

I thought this matter was settled, Julia.

I didn't intend for
this to be public, Darcy.

We had an agreement that you'd stop this.

Now you're threatening
my career and your own

with this cavalier disregard for the law.

I'm not breaking the law, Darcy.

Section 207 of the
criminal code clearly states

that there's a public good
defense, which I can justify-

- Don't quote legalities at me, Julia.

You're the talk of the hospital.

My promotion's now in jeopardy.

Did you even consider that at all?

Someone has to challenge this law.

But why you?

I can't give a useless iron tincture

to another woman worn out
by continual childbearing.

It's that important to you?

' Yes!

More important than a
promise to your husband?

Yes, officer, initially Lucille Messing

and then Miss Minnie Duggan.

Andrew Trevor.

Do you have any idea what
could've happened to her?

They're both-

Mr. Trevor, can I help you?

Oh, Detective Murdoch,

thank the Lord you're here.

I was just explaining to the constable

that another of my
choir members is missing.

Another one?

Are you quite sure?

Quite sure.

First Miss Messing, and now this?

I now fear that my choir

had some connection to
these dreadful events.

Who's your missing choir member?

Miss Duggan.

Minnie Duggan.

Mr. Trevor, when is
your next choir practice?

All right, everyone, from the beginning.

I Prensa Mm, praise 'mm I.

Minnie Duggan's missing silk shawl,

found in your coat pocket.

I have no idea how that got there.

Why didn't you tell me
you sang in the choir

with your fianc?e, Lucille?

I didn't think it was relevant.

No?

When was the last time
you saw Minnie Duggan?

At choir practice last Monday.

She was very consoling about Lucille.

Oh, that's when you realized.

Minnie suspected you
had killed your fianc?e.

How dare you suggest such a thing?

You discovered your fianc?e, Lucille,

had been living a double
life, so you killed her.

And when Minnie Duggan
discovered what you had done,

you had to kill her as well.

I did not kill Lucille, and
I didn't kill Minnie Duggan.

Geoffrey Coville, you are
under arrest for murder.

The shawl isn't the murder weapon.

The weave of the silk is too coarse.

I see.

I'm sorry, Detective.

Thank you.

Coville knew both women

and had the silk shawl in his possession.

But you don't have the
evidence to hold him?

No.

Sirs, madam, in tracing the watermark,

I found the printer for
Miss Rose Petal's books,

a Mr. Ramston.

And the customer?

A Mr. R. Stori, an alias you may remember

from the room rental at The Devil's Drum.

All payments were in cash
delivered anonymously.

So no further leads.

Well, not exactly, sir.

In talking with the printer
about his previous clients,

I discovered something of coincidence.

He also produces sheet
music for Mr. Trevor.

Trevor the choirmaster?

Very good, George.

Murdoch, look at this.

Oh, have a look at this, sir.

What the devil is going on here?

I demand an explanation, Detective Murdoch.

Explanations are indeed
in order, Mr. Trevor.

Now, if you would kindly
accompany us to the station.

So you got the job,
despite your spirited wife?

Yes, there was no one more surprised than I

when Lamonte announced I
was the new administrator.

It's such good news, Darcy.

When do you start?

Today.

Beginning with the installation of a plaque

to Lamonte's father in the front lobby.

Oh.

And after the foofaraw, what then?

I don't know.

I'll just be getting my feet wet.

I'd very much like you to
endorse the women's clinic.

Julia, there will be no official support

for the advocacy of contraception.

That was made very plain to me.

I see.

Maybe in time.

Of course.

I'll be busy tomorrow.

There's a fundraising
garden party at the Lamontes.

Oh.

Well, I'll admire the flowers.

I'm sure Mrs. Lamonte's roses are splendid.

I don't expect you to come, Julia.

Darcy, I'm more than happy to.

It's just an obligatory
attendance on my part.

What a shame.

I was planning to distribute prophylactics

to the gentlemen present.

Julia, that's not what I was saying.

There's no need to explain.

I'm perfectly happy with
the arrangement, Darcy.

I think it's best for both of us.

I couldn't agree more.

Inspector, carry on.

I need a moment.

This way.

Detective Murdoch.

' Yes?

A colleague of mine, a Mr. Leone,

is going to be taken into custody.

I need to meet you this
Saturday to discuss some options.

That's not possible.

I'm playing in a police
baseball game on Saturday.

My absence will be noted.

Perhaps I'll stroll by.

We can have our conversation afterwards.

It would be amusing to watch

policemen running around
like little children.

My office, George?

I'm in your office, sir.

Why, yes, I know.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I
had to use your table.

I've cut together some photographs.

I'm trying to analyze this newfangled throw

that the pitcher at
Station 5 has developed.

The ball drops, George, fooling the batter.

Yes, but how?

I believe they call it a "spit ball."

The application of moisture

changes the weight on one side of the ball.

Well, if I'm to play the sport, George,

I took some time to learn about it.

Oh.

You see, as the ball reaches velocity here,

it then drops here.

Excuse me.

That was quite an elaborate
game you devised, Mr. Trevor,

including planting
Minnie Duggan's silk scarf

in Geoffrey Coville's coat.

I don't know what you're
talking about, Detective.

You knew that two of your choir members,

Lucille Messing and Minnie Duggan,

were very impressionable young women,

and you lured them into
your world of perversion.

They confided in you the
stories of their encounters,

and you printed and published them

for yours and other men's amusement.

But when you realized the police
were on to what you were doing,

you had to kill Minnie
Duggan to silence her.

I did no such thing.

You recognize this tie, Mr. Trevor?

. I ma)'-

- This was the tie used
to strangle Minnie Duggan.

Impossible.

Well, the tie matches fibers
found on Minnie Duggan's body.

That tie is readily available
at the Eaton's department store.

There must be a hundred
men walking the streets

wearing the identical one.

There very well may be a
hundred ties, Mr. Trevor,

but there is only one tie pin,

one that matches the wounds
on your victim's necks.

Yours, M r. Trevor.

These young women trusted you,
and you took advantage of them.

No.

Lucille took little persuasion

to venture out and try something new.

She was a romantic,

fascinated by the pain and
beauty of love and obsession.

You no doubt saw her tattoo.

Your idea?

Not at all.

She wanted it.

Lucille Messing wasn't enough.

You then courted Minnie Duggan.

Neither woman was coerced, Detective.

I read the accounts of
Minnie Duggan's encounters.

You preyed on her desire for adventure.

At first, it was small things:

Drinking in public, smoking a cigarette.

And Miss Messing?

When Lucille suggested the tattoo,

I knew I had her.

But you were the master of the game,

a game that escalated from tattoos

to propositioning strangers,

and then escalated again to murder.

That's not what happened.

I didn't kill for pleasure.

The idea repulses me.

Then why did you kill Lucille Messing?

Lucille was the first woman I approached.

When you devised the idea for the books.

Yes, she was a willing accomplice.

She even told other men

where to find the books in the library.

That's when I made my mistake.

Mistake?

I invited Minnie to join.

When Lucille found out, she was angry.

Our special relationship
had been sullied in her eyes.

She felt betrayed.

She threatened to expose me.

So you killed her to protect yourself?

And you also killed Minnie Duggan

for the same reason.

What kind of man are you?

I had no choice, Detective.

I had no choice.

So when Lucille talked of betrayal,

it wasn't of her fianc?e?,

but of sharing Trevor's
games with Minnie Duggan.

Yes.

Do you think she was in love with Trevor?

No, I don't think so.

Trevor thought he had power over her,

but Miss Messing felt like
she was very much in control

and didn't want to share that with anyone.

To think Lucille buried
that welter of emotion

behind such a timid exterior...

Anna.

' Yes?

What do you want to say, William?

Hello, Emily.

Hello, Emily.

- Good to see you, Julia.
- Hello.

Come on, Crabtree!

William in knickerbockers.

Maybe he's coming out of his shell.

Well, look at our pitcher.

Constable Crabtree is
looking positively striking.

Indeed he is.

All right, George, all right.

- Chucks it like a tart.
- Right in the middle.

Oh!

That's it.

Strike!

That was good, eh?

Oh!

Time.

Trust the science, George.

Remember the drop of the ball.

Hit six inches below where you
think the ball is going to be.

Imagine the ball to be in a different place

than it actually is,

and then swing where it isn't.

Exactly.

Away you go-

- Come on, George.
- Crabtree.

Oh, good shot, Crabtree!

Very well done, George!

Ho, ho, ho!

Well done, George!

Very good!

What the bloody hell
just happened, Murdoch?

Well, sir, the ball appears

to be coming straight at the batter,

but the physics would suggest-

I don't care how.

Just makes sure it happens again.

Right. Gentlemen, gentlemen, huddle up.

All right, Henry, have an eye.

That's in!

' Yes!

Oh.

- It's all me!
- Watch it, sir!

Oh, well done, gentlemen!

Well done!

Crabtree, you're up first.

Come on, Higgins!

Bring me home, buddy.

Bring me home!

Excellent hit, sir!

Well done.

Come on, sir.

And it's out!

Here, here, sir!

Let's go! Let's go!

Jolly good, sir!

Whoo!

To the untrained eye,

the ball looks like it's
coming in a certain height,

but actually it's way down...

Such a perfect summer's day.

You think so?

Oh, come on, William.

You won the ball game.

The sun's shining.

You and I are together.

What would you change?

It's perfect.

Well, I suppose you're right.

Let's stroll back.

Anna!

No!

Help!

George!

I see him, sir!

Anna!

Julia!

Julia, help me!

- William.
- No!

I'm so sorry.

" No!"

You!

You murdering coward!

This wasn't us.

You hired the boy!

We had nothing to do with this.

We couldn't charge the bastard.

There was nothing to connect
him to Miss Fulford's murder.

What about the boy?

He got away.

I'm sorry, Murdoch.

Thank you, sir.

Falcone said something
curious before he left.

"Tell Murdoch the debt has been paid."

What was he talking about?

I wouldn't know, sir.

She's ready.

We must hurry.

Thank you for your help, Julia.

We're all set, Miss Fulford.

So you're my traveling companion, Jake?

I'll take her out as far
as Kingston, but then-

Then I'm on my own.

Thank you, William.

For midnight on the Tibetan Steppe.

Well, I hope it keeps good time.

That it does.

Thank you for my freedom.

"I never thought it could happen to me.

"Just last Sunday I was in
the park to feed the ducks..."

Swans.

"Swans.

"When a young lady approached me.

"I found her most beguiling,

and she was indeed entranced with me."