Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 6, Episode 4 - A Study in Sherlock - full transcript

Det. Murdoch investigates a robbery of bank safe deposit boxes that were being transferred. The masked thieves make off with two boxes but the driver of their getaway cart is killed. While investigating the scene, Murdoch receives some helpful information - from someone who claims to be Sherlock Holmes. Dr. Ogden determines that he is actually David Kingsley, a one-time mental patient. Regardless, he has the uncanny habit of assessing an individual or a situation much as the fictional Holmes would do in his books. It all leads to a crime that had occurred when Kingsley was just a boy of 13.

You ready?

Let's go!

Hands on your head!

The key! Where's the key?!

I don't have it.

Let's get out of here.

Don't move.

- Please.
- Get out.

I remember this blaze.

How are you, old girl?

Move off, you louse!



For your missus?

Go away, kid.

I said move off!

Hey, no need to get persnickety.

- Police!
- Police! How did they know?!

- Police!
- Leave the rest.

Go, go, go!

What in damnation?!

Just take what we need.

Let's go! Go! All right? Go!

There was a drunk.

He must have unhitched the horse.

Why would he do that?

Maybe he was a cop.



How would a cop know where you'd be?

I don't know.

Maybe the boss has got loose lips.

I'm the boss.

Are you sure this is the
chap driving the carriage?

Yes. His horse took off and
he ran away with another man.

Thank you.

No real loss. He wasn't
long for this world anyway.

- I'm sorry?
- He was cirrhotic.

- Oh, you knew him?
- I observed him.

Detective Murdoch.

We have a suspect, sir.

He was in possession of
a mask and a bank box.

Very good, Henry. Bring him
down to the stationhouse.

- Yes, sir.
- No, that's not your man.

Note his hands. The left hand is clean;

the right hand is soiled and scratched.

The bridge of his nose
and temples are reddened

as if he wears glasses,

but he's not wearing any now.

Clearly he's a left-handed machinist.

There's a machine shop just down on Durand,

but the shift ended at 6am.

The robbery occurred at 5:30am.

So that is not your man.

I'm sorry,

who are you?

My name is Sherlock Holmes.

- Bloody hell. Where did he come from?
- Dr. Grace has acquired

a new skeleton. She gave that one to me.

No doubt a day of great joy and
celebration. So, any news on the robbery?

By all accounts it was a
well-orchestrated heist.

- Foiled by an anonymous tip.
- Yes,

the call came from a front st.
exchange. We're looking into it now.

They killed one of their own. Any leads?

We have a suspect awaiting interview.

Who's the bloke dressed as Sherlock Holmes?

Well, sir, he claims to be Sherlock Holmes.

A detective who is a man of
science. About time, I'd say.

Scotland Yard could learn a thing or two.

Detective, we have matters to discuss.

Have a seat in the waiting area,

and I will be with you shortly.

When you were detained, you were in possession
of a bank safe deposit box and a mask...

both items directly
related to a bank robbery.

I found them. In the
laneway behind the shop.

What is it you do?

I'm a drill-press operator. I work
the night shift. I got off at six.

Plenty of witnesses to that, sir.

Do you ever wear glasses?

At work, to preserve my eyes.

Which hand do you use?

My left. Is that important?

- What is it?
- Sir, he knew everything

- about our suspect.
- Who?

The man who claims he's Sherlock Holmes.

Do you think he could have been involved?

- What's your name?
- Sherlock Holmes...
- Your real name!

That is my real name.

What were you doing at
the scene of the robbery?

I deciphered the codes.

- What codes?
- The coded messages, of course.

Moriarty puts them in the newspaper.

That's how he communicates
with his agents of evil.

Well, he's a complete crackpot.

I'll have Dr. Ogden provide an assessment.

So, what now?

Well, I think we can safely
assume that the routes and times

of armoured carriage transfers
are not public knowledge.

An inside job, then.

I've been doing this for two years.
Until today it seemed like a good job.

- Were you carrying anything unusual?
- No, sir.

Um, paper money and bank boxes.

This is the cargo list.

- And who else gets a copy of this?
- Just me.

The driver receives the protocol.

The protocol lays out
the route and destination.

- When did you receive this?
- Just prior to our departure.

- It's all part of the security arrangement.
- And who sets the protocol?

The bank manager.

Our branch on Spadina is closing

and all assets were being
transferred downtown.

The content of the cargo, time of shipment,

and routes are set the day before.

- And who sets them?
- I do.

And who else is privy to that information?

No one.

Then how did the thieves
know the carriage route?

I don't know.

Cause of death was a single gunshot
to the head at point-blank range.

I extracted the bullet... .38 calibre.

Hm. Dr. Grace, did the victim have

cirrhosis of the liver, by chance?

As a matter of fact he
did. How did you know that?

A suspect speculated on it.

Well, he must be a very observant fellow.

That he is.

Julia. Thank you for coming in.

How could I not? A man
claiming to be Sherlock Holmes.

He's in my office.

Mr. Holmes, I'd like you to meet

a colleague of mine. This is...

Wonderful.

George, have you seen the man
claiming to be Sherlock Holmes?

Sir, he's right there in your... Oh.

He was to remain in my office.

That's very cheeky.

I'm sorry, sir. I was distracted. I did
find some interesting information, though.

Both our victim and one of the carriage
guards live in the same rooming house.

Now, either that's a strange coincidence...

Or they knew each other.

Detective. I was wondering
when you'd finally get here.

Moriarty has struck again.

You've now been found at
the scene of two crimes.

- How do you explain that?
- I've made myself clear.

- I'm in pursuit of Moriarty.
- Bugger Moriarty.

How did you come to find yourself
in the room of a dead bank guard?

I found his address on
your constable's desk.

Are you being deliberately obtuse?

If you're asking why I was there,

I should have thought that was obvious.

It is my belief that the guard
was working with Moriarty.

All right,

and how did you come to that conclusion?

Did you notice that the
guard sat for an hour

with blood crusting on his face rather
than avail himself of a wash basin?

I did think that was a bit odd.

And no doubt you also observed that

the two cuts were straight and
fine, suggesting that they were made

with a razor blade.

This razor blade.

I found it in his pocket.

What about the robbery itself?

How did you know it was going to happen?

- I deciphered the codes.
- Which codes?

The codes I informed you of earlier!

I thought Professor Moriarty was dead.

As did I.

Then what makes you think
he's behind these crimes?

I recognized one of his henchmen.

Recognized?

I saw him at The Reichenbach Falls.

Reichenbach Falls.

Where you and Moriarty had
your final confrontation.

Not as final as I'd hoped.

And when did you see
this henchman in Toronto?

Yesterday. I was travelling
on the Queen St. car,

and by the time I disembarked, he was gone.

But I found the paper he
was reading and recognized

a section of the page was
missing. I purchased another copy,

and on the missing page was a coded
message specifying a time and a place.

Suspecting a robbery, I
set about to thwart it.

- By disguising yourself and unhitching the horses.
- I informed the police,

but they were even slower than I expected.

Sirs, the dead guard had a sweetheart who
worked in Accounts at the Spadina branch.

- He used to visit her.
- That's likely how

- he found out about the cargo.
- What's curious is that

almost all the money was left in the
getaway carriage. The only thing taken

from the scene was two safe deposit boxes,

one of which we retrieved.

Maybe the thieves weren't after the money.

They were after the contents
of the safe deposit boxes.

Right. George, bring in
the bank manager. We need

- to know what was inside of them.
- Sir.

Oh, and George, if you
could please pick up a copy

- of yesterday's Gazette.
- Will do.

So, you're telling me

you believe "Sherlock's"
story about the codes?

Well, sir, a coded message in
a newspaper article would be

an effective way to convey
information about routes, cargo...

Murdoch, I'll leave you to it.

I trust he hasn't managed
to give you the slip again.

He's in the interview room.

You don't look much like an alienist.

What makes you think...

You've been brought in to assess my sanity.

Detective Murdoch, for all
his scientific pretence,

is no more imaginative
than Inspector Lestrade.

Why don't you tell me about yourself?

My name is Sherlock Holmes.
I'm a consulting detective.

Until five years ago, I
resided at 221B Baker St.

With my friend Dr. Watson. Since then
I have become somewhat peripatetic.

When were you born?

The 6th of January, 1860.

You don't look 40.

A fact I attribute to a stringent diet.

Tell me more.

I don't wish to be a bore.

It won't bore me.

It bores me!

Moriarty is out there, and I'm in here!

Please, Doctor,

make the detective see sense.
You're obviously very close to him.

- Why makes you think that?
- When I called his competence

into question, you stiffened.

If he were just a colleague,
you might have defended him;

instead you chose to remain silent,

fearing your response
might betray your feelings.

And with only that he was able to
deduce that I have feelings for you.

Well, he's quite perceptive, isn't he?

He's not psychotic,
though. His logic is clear.

Julia, the man genuinely believes
that he's Sherlock Holmes.

He's suffering from a delusion
of identity. It's not uncommon.

There's a woman at the asylum
who believes she's the Queen.

As long as their delusion is not
challenged, they're quite harmless.

What are the chances of something like this

springing fully formed in adulthood?

This delusion is usually
a compensatory response

to emotional trauma in childhood.

He likely has some psychiatric history.

I'll see what I can find.

Thank you, Julia.

Dr. Grace. What have you?

The bank guard was killed by a bullet
wound to the heart... left ventricle.

- Have you retrieved...
- Thirty-eight calibre,

same as the first murder.

Hm.

Sirs!

I think I've found the code.

Have a look at the funeral
listings, third one down on the left.

The time and location of the funeral
correspond to that of the robbery.

The coded message is real. Our
Mr. Holmes was telling the truth.

- Or he placed it there himself.
- For what purpose?

I don't know, but I don't trust him.

Gentlemen, I've found the
identity of your Sherlock.

His name is David Kingsley. He
was a patient of Dr. Roberts.

- He was institutionalized?
- For a number of years.

- Does he have any family?
- He has an uncle.

His father died when David was an infant,

his mother when he was 12.
Care for the boy fell to me.

That must have been traumatic for the boy.

He, uh, he withdrew into a fantasy world.

The obsessive reading was one thing,

but when he started thinking
he was Sherlock Holmes,

my wife couldn't cope.

We had him committed.

When was he released?

Six months ago.

The doctor said he was
cured; obviously he was wrong.

Is he in trouble?

We believe he may have been
involved in an armed robbery.

- Oh, dear Lord. How?
- That's what we're attempting

- to find out.
- May I see him?

Hello, David.

I'm sorry, you're mistaking
me for someone else.

David, it's me, your Uncle Oscar...

I have no uncle. Detective, you must
release me. Let me help you solve this case.

David, please.

My name's Sherlock Holmes!

I'm sorry, Mr. Kingsley.

That's it?

Hardly worth knocking
off an armoured car for.

Who owns this box?

Let's see. It belongs
to a Mr. Joshua Grady,

a provincial court judge, I believe.

And who owns the missing box?

It's owned by Mr. Edward
Hopkins on Eglinton Ave.

Sir, I had a thought
about our Sherlock fellow.

What's that, George?

Well, quite by chance,
Mr. Arthur Conan Doyle is

attending a conference in New York.

Really? Have you informed
him of our little problem?

I did. I thought, you know,

if our man met his creator...

That's an excellent idea, George.

Whoever Edward Hopkins is,

he doesn't live here anymore.

Yes, but someone has been here.

Probably youngsters, sir.
They're prone to this kind

of thing at that age. I know I was.

George, have a look at
the lathe and plaster...

it's been pulled off at
the bottom of the walls.

Someone was looking for something.

Sir, some of this mail goes back 10 years.

Yes, most of it's been opened.

Look at this postmark. It's quite recent.

Right, let's round up all of this mail,

- and see if we can find out what's going on here.
- Yes, sir.

Sir, you're releasing him?

We've had him for 24
hours. We can't hold him

- unless we charge him.
- Detective.

Professor Moriarty has left
us another coded message.

According to this, he's meeting
his men at 398 Simcoe St.,

- nine o'clock.
- I don't know about you,

Detective, but this is one
meeting I plan to attend.

They're late.

Perhaps we deciphered the code incorrectly.

No.

We're at the right place at the right time.

Unless...

- Detective, we must leave immediately.
- Why?

The coded messages were meant for
me. He knows I'm getting too close.

What?

Mr. Holmes!

- Is that cocaine?
- You'll feel some localized numbing.

It's been a while since I've had cocaine.

Ah!

I was a fool, Detective,

to have underestimated
Moriarty like that. It would...

it would have been obvious
to him that I had cracked

his code. How else could
I have foiled his robbery?

Thirty-eight calibre.

- The same weapon was used in all three shootings.
- Of course it was.

It was Moriarty's gun.

You wouldn't by chance have a little
more of that cocaine, would you?

- Bollocks. There is no Moriarty.
- Of course not.

But the same gun that was used to
shoot the getaway carriage driver

and the bank guard was also
used to shoot Mr. Kingsley.

- I'm still convinced that he's trying to pull a fast one.
- I hardly think he would

orchestrate his own shooting.

Maybe he was once a part of this gang.

Maybe there was bad blood.
That would explain his presence

at the crime scene and how
he could decipher their code.

He knows what they've
stolen and he wants it.

And he's going to get it

by dressing up as Sherlock Holmes?

Oh, I don't know, Murdoch, but until we
figure it out, I want him back in custody.

Actually, sir, he may be
more valuable working with us.

I have to admit he's picking up
on things that I've overlooked.

You know, you won't find
Moriarty in the mail.

I'm not looking for Moriarty right now.

This mail goes back 10 years.

Yes.

Was the house ransacked?

How did you know?

It's elementary, Constable Crabtree.

He hasn't lived in the house for 10
years, yet the property taxes were paid

in full and someone has
been opening his mail,

and that someone is looking for something.

But what?

Match the discarded mail to the envelopes.

Whatever's missing contained
something of interest to the killer.

- Sir.
- What have you, George?

This was the last piece of
mail Edward Hopkins received.

Whoever's opening his mail
kept the contents of this one.

Bank of Toronto.

Yes, I've asked the manager to come down.

Perhaps he can shed some
light on its contents.

Very good idea, George.

Actually, sir, it was Mr. Holmes' idea.

Of course it was.

Thank you for coming in.

Moriarty! Congratulations, Detective.

You've just captured the Napoleon of crime.

- I'm just a bank manager.
- Of course it was your ruse.

What were you after? Was
it the Star of Tarsus?

The Star of Tarsus?

- That's it. Lock him up!
- How did you survive

the Reichenbach Falls? I
saw you go over the edge!

A letter was sent to all bank customers

letting them know their
accounts were being transferred.

- Along with a list of assets?
- Of course.

And what were Mr. Hopkins assets?

Um, a savings account
in the amount of $479.

And, of course, the safe deposit box.

When was the safe deposit box rented?

Um, July 7, 1890.

And the last activity on that account?

July 7, 1890.

I can see leaving a house behind,

even a safe deposit box,
but money in the bank?

Sirs, Mr. Holmes has deduced
that Mr. Hopkins was murdered.

- Deduced, has he?
- Yes, sir.

When one eliminates the
impossible, then what remains...

The problem with deductive
reasoning, George, is that

one must first conceive
of every possibility.

Now, Mr. Hopkins may
be dead, but he may also

be unable to retrieve his money.
So before we deduce that he's dead,

perhaps we should check
to see if he's in prison.

Fair enough. On another note,

I think I know why Mr. Holmes
thought the bank manager was Moriarty.

This is Moriarty. Bloody hell.

Looks just like him.

Poor bugger. Perhaps he is just a crackpot.

I was wrong, Detective.

That man was not Moriarty.

Moriarty's eyes burn with intelligence.

The man I locked eyes with
back there was not him.

Is this Moriarty?

My god.

Whoever drew this...

has captured him perfectly.

He's still out there, Detective.

We must bring him down.

Sir, no prison

in Ontario currently has an
Edward Hopkins serving time.

There was, however, an inmate by
that name who served about six months

- in the Central Prison back in 1885.
- What was his crime?

- Robbery.
- Right, George, find out who else was in Central Prison

- at the same time as Mr. Hopkins.
- Good thinking, Detective.

When one is in jail, one's
associates are the type

likely to rob an armoured carriage.

That's not him.

Oh, we won't find Moriarty
this way, Crabtree!

He's far too clever to be caught
using conventional tactics.

Detective Murdoch is anything
but a conventional sleuth.

You know, I've read all of
your stories, and I believe

- he is your equal in every regard.
- My stories?

Oh! That Watson.

Always scribbling down our little
adventures. I do miss him sometimes.

- Mm.
- That's him!

- That's the man I saw.
- Moriarty?

No, his henchman.

His name is Sebastian Moran. He's an expert

on using nitroglycerin to blow open safes.

Or armoured carriages.

Do we have a last-known address?

There are two that we know of.

Right. Crabtree and I will
go to Shuter St.

You take Sherlock here and go to Spadina.

And remember, this fellow's dangerous,

so stop by the armoury on your way out.

This cigar was stubbed recently.

Very good, Detective.

Must have left by the fire escape.

Detective.

"Aurora."

It appears you were mistaken
about the fire escape, Detective.

So, Moran, we meet again.

Do you remember me?

- Don't! Don't!
- I won't.

Not yet.

But very soon you'll lose consciousness

and my friend here will have
to support your entire weight.

Then I'll shoot.

Give me that!

- What does it mean?
- Perhaps it's a reference

to the town of Aurora, north
of the city, along Yonge St.

You know, in one of my
cases, "The Sign of the Four",

a treasure was being conveyed
on a steamship called the Aurora.

- This isn't about "The Sign of the Four".
- Well, no. These circumstances

- recall "The Case of the Vanished Star".
- I don't remember that one.

It was one of my most troubling cases.

A valuable diamond called the Star
of Tarsus was stolen by Moriarty

and one of his henchmen, but they...

This isn't about any work of fiction!

Real men are dead! And I
don't want to hear any more

Sherlock-bloody-Holmes stories!

Sir, Arthur Conan Doyle is here.

Ah.

Mr. Doyle! Arthur!

- Pleasure to see you again.
- Inspector. Detective Murdoch.

Mr. Doyle. Thank you for
coming on such short notice.

Oh, how could I possibly
resist? It's not often

that a writer gets to
meet his own creation.

Arthur Conan Doyle, meet Sherlock Holmes.

What you're suggesting,

after I strip away the condescension,

- is that I don't exist.
- You exist as a man, sir,

but Sherlock Holmes is an
artistic invention. I created him.

Um, look.

This book was written
by Arthur Conan Doyle,

yes? I am Arthur Conan Doyle.

I'm familiar with these scribblings.

I always assumed you were a
pseudonym for my dear friend

Dr. Watson. It appears you
have put your name on his work.

Given that you seem to
have earned your reputation

on the basis of my adventures,
I submit to you, Mr. Doyle,

that I created you.

Alright then, um... Mr. Holmes,

I suppose you're familiar with the story

- "The Final Problem"?
- I am.

Well, you died in that story, did you not?

No. I shamefully led
Watson to that conclusion.

Moriarty's agents were
determined to kill me.

I had to make them
think I was already dead.

There were two sets of footprints leading

to the edge of the falls;
there were none coming back.

- How did you survive?
- I retraced

my own footsteps backwards to where I
could scale the cliff face and escape.

Actually, that's not bad.

What did you do after that?

I set out to see the world.
I met the Dali Lama in Tibet,

Caliphate in Sudan. Eventually I
came here and caught sight of Moran.

- Moran?
- Sebastian Moran, one of...

One of Moriarty's henchmen.

Or do you not know his name?
Gentlemen, this conversation is

bringing us no closer to Moriarty.

Sebastian Moran. Rather
like the sound of that.

Oh, no, no, no, he's insane.

He's insane. Floridly so.

But he has some damn good ideas.

Mr. Doyle, what can you tell us

about "The Case of the Vanished Star"?

- The what?
- It's one of your stories.

Yes, about the diamond...

the Star of Tarsus. It features
Moriarty, his henchman...

Detective, I have never written a story
called "The Case of the Vanished Star".

It was 10 years ago.

I'd just solved "The
Case of the Sign of Four"

and was about to conduct
chemical experiments with gypsum

when a young lad appeared at my door.

In Toronto?

No, London. Baker St.

I only came to Canada
after Reichenbach Falls.

- We've been over this.
- Yes, carry on.

He was about 13,

although the sorrow in his
eyes made him look older.

I knew from his countenance...

I don't care about his bloody countenance.

Get to the facts.

What did the boy want you to do?

Solve the murder of his father
and retrieve the Star of Tarsus.

- The diamond.
- The boy's father had

joined with a couple of thieves
to steal a precious diamond.

They replaced it with a glass replica
so no one would know it was gone.

And what happened to the father?

He was double-crossed.

The henchman, Moran, shot
him on the orders of Moriarty,

but not before he hid the diamond

where only his son
would know where to look.

And where was that?

I don't know. He promised his son

a clue would come to
him, but none ever did.

And what was this boy's name?

If memory serves me correctly,
his name was David Kingsley.

- Isn't David Kingsley Sherlock's real name?
- It is.

So you're thinking he's remembering details

of an actual crime committed
when he was a 13-year-old boy?

That's right. Sir, perhaps Aurora is

- the clue that David Kingsley never received.
- Bloody hell.

Maybe it was a reference
to The Sign of Four.

His father must have known

that he liked Sherlock Holmes.

Perhaps. But, sir, what puzzles me is

that David Kingsley's father died in 1878.

David would have only been an infant.

So, who's the father in this story?

The man you're talking
about is, uh, Ted Hopkins.

- As in Edward Hopkins?
- He's a no-good

who took up with David's
mother after his father died.

Would David have considered Mr.
Hopkins his father, by chance?

Yes, which made what he did so despicable.

What did he do?

The bastard bolted when
the going got tough;

left David to nurse his
dying mother all by himself.

Actually, we suspect that
Mr. Hopkins was killed

in a criminal double-cross some years ago.

Well, that doesn't surprise me.

He consorted with that type.

Mr. Kingsley, does the word
"Aurora" mean anything to you?

Aurora?

No. Why do you ask?

It was a message left in a safe deposit box

that belonged to Mr. Hopkins.

We suspect it has something to do

with the name of a boat
from a Sherlock Holmes story.

Sunrise.

- I'm sorry?
- Aurora means sunrise.

Detective. I could find no
reference to the Star of Tarsus,

but there is a diamond
called the Star of Tehran,

and it's here in Toronto.

It's currently being housed
at the Persian consulate.

- How big is it?
- Forty-three carats.

- That'd be worth a bob or two.
- That's $100,000 exactly.

Well, we'll need the consulate
to verify if it's genuine.

Sir, it's being done as we speak.

So, what now?

We need to speak with David Kingsley.

You're weightless, free
from all constraint.

You have no body.

Can you feel the chair beneath you?

No.

Who are you?

I'm Sherlock Holmes.

Who is David Kingsley?

He was a client of mine.

Let's go back to your 13th birthday.

Where are you?

I'm at home in Knightsbridge.

My brother Mycroft is visiting from Oxford.

I've never seen anything like this.

He's created a complete
history for himself.

Can you break him out of that?

I don't know.

Um...

bring him out.

At the count of three, you
will be fully awake.

One, two, three.

Dr. Ogden, may I have a
few moments with Mr. Holmes?

Of course.

Mr. Holmes,

how did you deduce that it was the
henchman that killed David's father?

I didn't. David, saw it.

He was hiding in a closet when
Moran came in and shot his father.

When did you first see Moran?

In Switzerland.

Then how did you know it was
the same man that David saw?

Hmm? Think, Mr. Holmes.

Switzerland could not have been
the first time you saw Moran.

Why are you badgering
me with these trifles?

Not trifles.

You claim to have recognized
a man that you've never seen.

Think, Mr. Holmes.

When did you first see him?

Was it you hiding behind that door?

No, that was David.

Then how do you remember him?

It must be your memory.

You saw Moran walk in

- and shoot your father.
- No, David did!

Did David see Moriarty?

No.

He was in the shadows.

That's why your only
remembrance of Moriarty is

from the illustration from a book.

You've never seen Moriarty because
David has never seen Moriarty.

- You stop this!
- You are not Sherlock Holmes!

You are David Kingsley!

You were the young boy
who saw his father killed

- in front of him.
- This is impossible.

Recognizing the face of a man
you have never seen is impossible,

and if you eliminate the
impossible, what remains,

however improbable, must be the truth!

- Stop this, please!
- Tell me who you are!

I'm David Kingsley! Now will
you just leave me alone?!

I'm sorry, David.

How long have I been pretending
to be Sherlock this time?

I don't know.

As long as I've known you.

I thought it was over.

I thought I was better.

I always thought

of Ted as my father, and
in every sense he was.

We both loved Sherlock Holmes.

He used to read the stories to me.

What about "The Case of the Vanished Star"?

He told that story to me
the night before he died.

I think he suspected they
were going to kill him.

But he wasn't certain, so
he told you what happened

in the form of a Sherlock Holmes story.

Knowing that if he was killed,

you would understand
that the story was true...

that the diamond actually existed.

And that's why he put the
clue in a safe deposit box.

He assumed it would be bequeathed to you.

But his body was never found,

so the will was never executed.

Sirs.

May I present...

the Star of Tehran.

Cut glass. Completely phoney.

So the real one was stolen,

exactly like the story.

David, I have one more question.

What does Aurora mean to you?

It was the name of the toy
steamboat I used to sail

on the creek on my father's property.

It was called Sunrise,

but after we read The Sign of
the Four, we called it the Aurora.

Sir, come with me. Stay here.

- Is it in there?
- Agh!

It's not in there.

I don't know if it ever was.

We've been looking for
the stone for 10 years!

- Where is it?
- I honestly have no idea.

Drop the knife.

Sebastian Moran, Oscar
Kingsley, you're both

under arrest for robbery and murder.

- Bloody hell.
- It was you,

Uncle.

All this time, you were Moriarty.

- David, put that down.
- You killed my father!

He was not your father.

He was to me! And you had him killed.

And for what? This?

Squeeze it hard, Uncle. Clasp it lovingly

to your chest, 'cause
you're about to die for it.

- Don't be a fool, son.
- Don't do this, David.

- Sherlock wouldn't do this.
- I'm not Sherlock anymore.

Be him again.

Be the man you were destined to be.

Holmes believed in logic,

deduction, intellect, and
above all, the rule of law.

He killed my father.

Yes, but we've caught him. We've caught him

using the skills that you learned.

If you kill this man,

you will turn your back on everything
that has ever mattered to you.

That isn't who you are.

That isn't the man you want to be.

Gentlemen, shall we?

Sign of the Four.

One of mine, I believe.
I hope you're enjoying it.

Of course. You're off, Mr. Doyle?

Yes. Returning to New York, then
catching a steamship back to England.

I was rather hoping that I could have a

chat with our young Sherlock before I go.

Is he about, perchance?

Oh, he's under observation at the asylum.

No longer, I'm afraid. I
just came from there. In fact,

I have a message from your Dr. Ogden:

"The skeleton trick is
now the coat-rack trick."

She said you'd understand.

- Of course.
- Damn my luck.

I thought I'd milk him
for some more new ideas.

Are you thinking of bringing Holmes back,

- by any chance, Arthur?
- Indeed I am.

I thought I'd written myself into a
corner, but he's given me a way out.

Have a pleasant voyage.

Well, it's always a
pleasure to see you both.

- Arthur.
- Right. Cheerio.

So, it's all wrapped up, then.

Except for the diamond, of course.
I'm guessing that's lost forever.

You know, I'm not so sure.

According to The Sign of the Four,

the treasure was thrown
overboard the steamship, Aurora,

to prevent it from falling
into the wrong hands.

Bloody hell. David said
he sailed his toy boat

on a creek on his father's property.

I was wondering when you'd
figure it out, Detective.

Please returned this to its rightful owner.

The Persian consulate has
offered a substantial reward

for its return. Who shall I say found it?

Sherlock Holmes, of course.

Detective.

Good luck, Mr. Holmes.

- Inspector.
- Mr. Holmes.

He's back to being Sherlock, then.

For him I suspect the fiction in his
life is less painful than the fact.

Hm.

Are you sure we'll be able to see?

Everything!

Next Monday, on an all-new
Murdoch Mysteries...

You, there! You're not
a Peeping Tom, are you?

I suppose this would be a good place

to hide one's secrets.

An all-new Murdoch Mysteries,

next Monday at 9:00 on CBC.