Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 8, Episode 1 - On the Waterfront: Part 1 - full transcript

Det. Murdoch investigates the murder of Richard Dawkins who was beaten to death at the dinner table by two masked men just as he was about to make an important announcement to his business associates. Since nothing was stolen Murdoch's new boss, Inspector Hamish Slorach, calls the killing an assassination. Dawkins was rumored to be selling his chandlery business. The harbor master says Dawkins was anything but a saint and the police should look to the seedier side for a solution to his death. Const. Jackson is badly beaten by two thugs which seems to confirm Murdoch's suspicion that the men who beat Inspector Brackenreid are the same ones who killed Dawkins. When they find a dead woman on the shore, Dr. Grace determines she was clubbed to death the night before the attack on Dawkins and was manacled before she died. Meanwhile, suffragettes recruit Julia to their movement and she is joined by Emily Grace. Receiving little support politically, they decide to hold a protest march. They are all soon in jail.

So, what does Mr. Dawkins
want to talk about?

I don't know. Wouldn't say a word to me.

He has been acting odd lately.

That's because he's an odd duck.

So, what's on your mind, Richard?

Um... not everyone's here yet.

Well, I wager we'll find out soon enough.

Gentlemen, Mrs. Blake.

- It's a pleasure to see you all.
- You as well, Mrs. McKinnon.

So, are you all here to
petition for my removal?

Cecily, heavens, no!

The harbour's never run more smoothly.

I suppose sometimes it does
take a woman to do a man's job.

- Oh! Doesn't he have nerve?
- Her husband hardly in the ground!

Well. Mr. Dawkins?

Why have you gathered us all here?

Could we please eat first? I'm famished.

The first courses are set to arrive.

Could you please get a move on?

Oh, good lord!

His name was Richard Dawkins.

Well, the cause of death looks clear.

His skull is crushed.

And he was killed in
plain view of the others?

His assailants obviously

weren't worried about being seen.

- Sir...
- Oh, good gracious.

Sir, the inspector's on his way.

Really? This was enough
to rouse him from bed?

Well, murder in the dining
room of the Queen's Hotel...

- I should hope so.
- Right.

- Detective.
- Inspector Slorach.

Good lord!

Are you sure you can't cover him up, or...

Get him down to the
morgue and clean this up.

Sir, I miss Inspector Brackenreid.

So do I, George. So do I.

Thank you, Doctor Grace.

- May I take my wife home?
- Mr. Blake, the detective

will want to have a couple of words. Sir?

- This is Mr. Arthur Blake.
- Mr. Blake.

Do you have anything to add

- past the general description that it was two men?
- I'm sorry, no.

Protecting my wife was my only concern.

Mr. Dawkins was a friend of yours?

- A business associate.
- And a friend, Arthur, surely?

I'm Cecily McKinnon, the
Toronto Harbourmaster.

Oh, pleasure.

What was the purpose of tonight's dinner?

No real purpose, we often got together.

Who arranged this meeting?

Mr. Dawkins.

- Ah. Do you have any idea what it was about?
- I don't.

It all unfolded so quickly.

They just went straight
for Richard like madmen.

So he and he alone was the intended target?

- Yes. They paid us no mind.
- Were any words spoken?

Nothing I heard.

They clearly came in here with
the intention of killing him.

You all knew Mr. Dawkins well.
Could there be a reason for this?

And nobody will say anything?

They all recounted the
events, not much more.

- Dawkins was the target.
- So it would appear.

No money was stolen, not a word was spoken.

- So it was an assassination.
- Possibly an assassination,

possibly something more. A message.

Exactly. We best get on this.

A murder in a fine Toronto establishment
does not reflect well on us.

- Of course.
- Oh, and Murdoch, I've noticed

- you have yet to request any time off.
- Sir?

- You are getting married?
- Yes.

- You haven't picked a date yet?
- Oh, don't worry,

- it won't be on a work day.
- Oh, Murdoch,

you gotta make an event out of these
things. As my wayward wife used to say,

there's more to life than murder.

My practice keeps me quite busy, Ms. Haile,

and I am getting married.

Of course.

But I do think that we can accomplish this,

especially with the
assistance of women like you.

Well, I doubt that you need me.

That's where you're wrong.

You are a woman of great achievement.

And more than my share of scandal.

I can look past that.

You do agree that women are
deserving of the right to vote?

Of course.
- I intend to see

that women's suffrage is
achieved in my lifetime.

And I can't do that without
people like you at my side.

Add your voice, Dr. Ogden.

You do believe in justice, don't you?

And what is more just

than granting women the right to franchise?

I appreciate this, Mrs. Dawkins.

The loss of your husband
must be a terrible blow.

Thank you, but please be brief.

Yes. Yes, of course.

Your husband owned a business
down by the Toronto docks?

- Yes, a chandlery.
- Right.

And did he often have dinner
with his fellow merchants?

No, he didn't much care for them.

Hmm. And why did he set up this dinner?

I have no idea.

Do you have any idea what
he may have wanted to speak

- to his fellow merchants about?
- I don't know.

Mrs. Dawkins,

the men who killed your husband
very clearly targeted him.

Richard was a quiet man.

Most people hardly gave
him the time of day.

And yet, someone wanted him dead.

Could it have anything
to do with this dinner?

Detective Murdoch, if you want the truth,

Richard was considering
selling the chandlery

and getting away from
the waterfront altogether.

Why is that?

I don't know. But
something was troubling him.

In the last week, he wasn't the same man.

Alright. Do you have any
idea why that could be?

Who was he planning to sell to?

Mr. Lionel Jeffries.

I once considered a seaman's life.

- Did you, George?
- The smell of the salt air,

the sound of the crashing waves,

the bracing wind in your hair...

No doubt a result of your
Newfoundland upbringing, George.

No, I wouldn't say,
sir. Why do you say that?

Oh, I don't know...

Doesn't the thought of a
rousing nautical adventure

appeal to you?

I have my share of
adventures, thank you, George.

- Mr. Jeffries.
- Detective Murdoch.

Have you any further information?

Unfortunately, no. Only more questions.

Go ahead.

You expressed interest
in purchasing Mr. Dawkins'

- chandlery prior to his murder?
- I did.

By all accounts it was
a successful business.

- Why would he care to sell it?
- I have no idea.

I see.

Mrs. Dawkins mentioned

that her husband had been acting strangely.

Do you know anything about that?

No, I don't.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm a busy man.

Your inspector was here some
months ago. I'm terribly sorry

- about what happened to him.
- As am I.

Did he tell you what
he'd been investigating?

There had been some
vandalism, hooliganism...

Nothing much, really.

Just men too long on boats

- letting off steam.
- Indeed.

A dangerous place for a woman to work.

That may be.

But I've had little
trouble down here so far.

Did the merchants tell you
what they were meeting about?

Oh, sir. I am merely the harbourmaster.

I log the movements of the ships
entering and leaving Toronto.

What they do with their businesses here

- is of little concern to me.
- Yet you were at their dinner.

Yes, I had been invited.

I suppose they were
taking pity on the widow.

Detective, are you sure you're
looking in the right direction?

- How do you mean?
- Contrary to what others

may tell you, Richard Dawkins was no saint.

And that was the reason for his death?

Prostitutes and their procurers

are not angels.

But then, I very much doubt
I have to tell you that.

Heads up!

Pass it back over here, why don't you?

- Sir.
- I see them.

Nothing will be accomplished
by speaking to them, George.

Not yet.

Sir, these are the ones
who did in the Inspector.


Tell Jackson to stay down here.

Couple of bloody coppers!

Let's let them know that we're here now

and we're not planning on leaving.

The injuries inflicted upon Mr. Dawkins

are similar to those of the Inspector.

How do you mean? The same weapons?

I can't be certain, but they are similar.

Hardly a definitive link.

I would have to agree.

- William!
- Julia!

Oh! I will be ready in a moment.

The right to vote this is so exciting!

Don't tell me you've dragged
her into this, as well?

Julia, please do try
to stay out of trouble.

Police detective's
bride-to-be behind bars?

My loving fianc? would break me out.

I'm simply reminding you that the law

is not as forward-thinking as you are.

Then perhaps the law needs a little help.

Good day.

Hello there.

And a nice day to you as well, sir.

Shut up!


It's alright, Jackson. No need.

Who did this to you?

They struck me from behind, sir.

- The manner of weapon?
- They just used

their boots and fists, sir.

"They". How many were there?

I don't know. Certainly more than one.

And no one saw anything?

Well, there were people down there, sir,

but no-one helped me.

You'd think someone would help a policeman.

Yes. Do you recall

anything out of the ordinary?

I thought I heard a noise, a voice, but...

Constable Jackman... Jackson. How are you?

Ooh, not well.

- Detective.
- Inspector.

Constable Jackson doesn't seem to recall

anything about his assailants.

Is there any reason for the beating?

It would appear someone doesn't want us

down by the docks.

Rest up, Jackson, and, um...

... if you recall anything...

Yes, sir.

- What the devil is that?
- This?

This is your lucky day, Jackson. Kaposzta.

Made with my mother's loving hand.

You get a couple of those in your belly,

you're right as rain in no time.

And the right to vote is within our grasp.

Not sometime this century, not in 50 years,

but now.

Together, we can change
the course of history.

Strong words. I wish I had your confidence.

Well, we are nothing without
confidence, or precedent.

- Precedent?
- Oh! Pardon me.

Kathleen, this is Dr. Julia
Ogden and Dr. Emily Grace.

Pleased to meet you. Doctors?

Yes, that's right.

Women of considerable accomplishment.

Well, surely you must believe that

you are of sufficient intellectual capacity

to be deserving of the ballot box.

- Yes, of course.
- More than many men.

Yeah, well, most of us are.

But it's our job to try
and convince them of that.

When I speak of precedent, are you aware

that women of both
Australia and New Zealand

have had the right to
vote for almost ten years?

Well, I'd say it's time we caught up

- with our antipodal sisters.
- We are requesting

an audience with the premier.
He's a reasonable man.

To that end, we need to continue to gather

as many signatures as we
can supporting the cause

of women's suffrage. Can we count on you?

- Of course.
- Thank you.

I want you and Henry to
head down to the docks.

Are you sure that's such a wise idea,

considering what happened
to Constable Jackson?

Uh, the Inspector makes a point, sir.

Henry, if you don't feel you can handle it,

then perhaps I should send
someone else down who can.

- Let's go, Henry.
- Oh, and George,

feel free to let the O'Sheas know

that we're not planning
on leaving anytime soon.

- Sir.
- Thank you.

Here, Detective.

Are those the two that
attacked the inspector?

- Allegedly.
- Oh, of course. Hmm.

And they're behind the attacks of Dawkins

- and Constable Jackson?
- I don't know that.

But it stands to reason

that either they or someone
close to them did it.

Brutal, unprovoked assaults
seem to be their stock-in-trade.

Where you goin'?

To speak to someone who may be
able to shed some light on this.

- Inspector?
- Murdoch.

Well, that's quite good.

You think?

I'm having trouble with my clouds.

So, what brings you here?

Sir, there's been a murder,

- linked to the docks.
- I'm of no use to you.

I know as much as you about
what goes on down there.

What were you investigating there?

I was looking into complaints

about hooligans disturbing the peace,

refusing to leave stores
and businesses when asked.

That's all there was to it. Oh...

- Oh. If you like, I can...
- No bother.

Sir, Constable Jackson was
attacked down by the docks

and we believe it was the O'Sheas.

Can't help ya.

Sir, any information you could give...

I'm not a policeman
anymore, I can't help ya.

Sir, I'm speaking about the
men that nearly killed you.

Well, they didn't.

And we don't know it was them.

Have you given any thought
as to why you were attacked?

Someone at the docks

didn't take to me sniffing
around there, I suppose.

- And that someone?
- Murdoch,

I don't know any more
than I've told you already

and I'm done with this whole business.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd
like to get back to my clouds.

Yes, of course.

Good day, sir.

So, were you able to talk sense to him?

You know your husband.

I thought I did.

He's not the same man, Detective.

Well, he's suffered a grievous injury.

From which he's recovered...
at least physically.

Detective, he just sits there
like a lump. He won't retire,

he won't return to work.
He won't do anything.

It's as if the beating
took the life out of him.

And what about respecting
the Inspector's privacy?

Mrs. Brackenreid is concerned as well.

Well, what is it you want me to do?

I'm not sure.

But the person I spoke
with is not the man I know.

It would mean a great deal to
me if you would speak with him.

Of course, William.

This is a lovely
neighbourhood, don't you think?

Oh, yes. Yes, very nice.

But far too expensive, I'd wager.

We don't want you down here.

Well, we're not interested
in what you want, sir.

"Sir"! Copper here thinks I'm a gentleman.

No matter what you think, the waterfront

is still under the jurisdiction
of the Toronto Constabulary.


Lad! You there! Hey, come...

Go lad, go! Run, boy!

Don't let those wretched coppers catch you!

Out the way!

Sweet mother!

- You alright, George?
- Yes.

- Thanks tremendously, Higgins.
- Well, I did point him out.

Come on.

You lot can stay as long as you like.

You're obviously as
useless as tits on a bull.

I'd been investigating reports

of hooliganism down the dockyards.

I arrested a number of dockworkers

and invited them to spend
a night in the cells.

Were these two men among those you took in?

One of them was.

Mick O'Shea. The one on the left.

And do you know Mr. O'Shea well?

I'd had run-ins with him before.

And was Mr. O'Shea your attacker?

I believe so.

No further questions.

You "believe so".

Do you know so?

Could your attacker not have been anyone

of a number of men that
you've come into contact with

over the years?

In fact, your sworn statements say

you have no recollection
of the night in question.

So are you lying now,
or were you lying then?

Oh, well. Doesn't matter,
now. It's over and done with.

And I'm better off out of it.

Are you?

Did Murdoch send you here?

He's concerned about you.

He just wants me back on the force.

Well, if that's where you're
meant to be, of course he does.

I thank you both for your concern,

but I'm quite content with my lot.

Content or frightened?

It's not the same world out there.

There's no respect for the law anymore.

So I don't care to be a part of it.

You didn't answer the question.

I'm neither. I'm just
accepting of the way it is.

So the men who attacked you win.

As long as you're content.

So when are you marrying?

- Soon.
- Good.

- You know what's a shame?
- If he wasn't a bloody papist,

they would have given him my job.

From what we can gather,
the O'Sheas rule the roost.

Questions about them go unanswered.

People are afraid of them.

Were you able to find anything to suggest

that Mr. Dawkins had enemies?

Sir, no one will speak two words to us.

- So nothing?
- I'm afraid not.

What is it?

Constabulary. Move aside, please.


Have you a cause of death, Doctor Grace?

The most probable cause of
death is, of course, drowning.

Fell into the water, got
tangled in a fisherman's net.

She has some unusual dental work.

Lead fillings.

They haven't been used
in North America in years.


- A recent arrival?
- Perhaps.

Look at the condition of her clothing.

- A vagrant?
- Could be.

Or she could have stumbled
into the water drunk,

or she could have decided to end it all...

No need to speculate at this point, Doctor,

- all I need is a time of death.
- You'll have it.

City Morgue, Dr. Emily Grace.


Of course, I can come.

Yes, I know where Queen's Park is.

In an hour.

A dead woman?

Yes. She was found yesterday.

- Was she from down here?
- I don't know.

Well, do we know who she is?

No-one's come forward to claim her,

and no-one matching her description

was reported missing.

- A fallen woman, then?
- Perhaps.

Do you have something
to add, Mrs. McKinnon?

I shouldn't.


Mr. Dawkin's association with
Doxies was more than mere rumour.

I had heard that he'd been rough with them.

You could have told me this before.

Yes, I should have.

And now that a woman is dead,
I deeply regret that I didn't.

But perhaps this is the
reason he was murdered there is

- a rough justice down here.
- Justice is the Constabulary's domain.

Yes, of course.

I, um...

I took the liberty of inquiring.

You are a single man, are you not?

I'm engaged to be married.


When will that be?

We have yet to set a date.

Oh, I see. Oh, well...

I hope the lucky lady doesn't dally.

Why are you concerning me with this?

I'm terribly sorry to
bring this up, Mrs. Dawkins,

but it's been suggested
to me by a number of people

that your husband was...
less than honourable.

What do you mean by that?

He was unfaithful.

If that was the case, he
got exactly what he deserved.

And unless you have something more to
offer than these terrible accusations,

I will have to ask you
to leave my establishment.

I see you've foregone your husband's wish

to sell this place.

My husband's wishes don't
matter anymore now, do they?

He's dead.

Mr. Foster, I'm Margaret Haile.

- Could we have a word, please?
- Of course, ladies.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

We would like you to present
the premier with this petition.

- What's this?
- It is an opportunity

for you to establish
yourself as a forward-thinker.

We're asking that you
extend suffrage to all

during the next round
of provincial elections.

This is an impressive
list of names, Ms. Haile.

Dr. Julia Ogden... another doctor.

Dr. Emily Grace,

city of Toronto coroner.

- Would one of you ladies...
- I am Dr. Emily Grace, sir.

Shouldn't you be attending to your duties,

or is the fact that
you're employed not enough?

My duties are being well-attended to, sir.

We are here to petition
for a woman's right to...

Good day, ladies. I
have no interest in this.

This is a civilized province

and will continue to be governed
only by those with a level head.

Words on a piece of paper are useless.

Then what do you suggest?

A public protest, right in front
of the provincial legislature.

Julia, are you sure?

No one will listen if
we don't make a sound.

- I'm not sure it's a wise idea.
- It may not be.

But what better way to wipe
the smirk off their faces?

A stick in the mud?

Is that any way to refer
to your future husband?

And I'll desist as long as
you stop acting like one.

I'm only suggesting that a public protest

could result in you being jailed.

You're not trying to stop me, are you?

I doubt very much there
would be any point to that.

- No.
- I'm simply trying to

alert you to...
- Shh.

Murdoch... Oh! Dr. Ogden.

- Inspector.
- Planning your nuptials, I see.

Ah! On police time?

Well, don't let me stop you.

He's a lovely man.

- Yes, of
course. - Mm-hmm.

How was your conversation
with Inspector Brackenreid?

I think he's scared, William.

I think he's afraid to
face the O'Sheas again.

Detective! I have something for you.

The presence of live
lice in her hair indicates

she has been dead less than 48 hours.

- Roughly the same time as Mr. Dawkins.
- Yes.

Could you hazard a before or after?

I could, Detective. I believe she died

- the night before he did.
- Hmm.

And note these bruises.

Are they pre-
or post-mortem?

My next task.

No one's gonna tell us anything.

Henry, why do you always have
to be such a negative Nelly?

Just calling it like it is.

- George!
- What is it?

- It's that little bugger.
- You're right!

- Little scallywag.
- Hey, you! Lad! Come here!


You want him?

Hand him over.

Tell us when you want us to
do your work for you again.

Come on, lad.

- I didn't steal anything.
- I saw you!

- Then where is it?
- I saw you pick a man's pocket

- before I caught you.
- You didn't catch me.

Those other men did. I
was getting away from you.

Mm. He's right about that, George.

- Higgins!
- Well, he was.

So, I didn't take anything.
You didn't catch me.

- Can I go home?
- No, you can't go home!

You're a pickpocket and a thief! Now...

Have you seen anything funny
going on down at the docks?

I said, have you seen
anything funny going on

down at the docks?

Just you trying to catch me.

Oh, Higgins! But... that
is the height of sauciness!

Get up! You, unbelievable... Get up!

What are you doing?

Well, I might not be able to catch a child,

but I can throw one in
jail. Higgins, thanks again

for your tremendous help.

- Dr. Grace.
- Detective.

- What have you?
- It's troubling.

It often is.

After the swelling went
down, I was able to detect

lacerations and bone bruising
on her wrists and ankles.

She was manacled for
some time before she was

- thrown into the water.
- I see.

The lacerations suggest she
struggled before she died.

Well, that doesn't sound like

an accidental drowning at all, does it?

- Thomas...
- Margaret.

Thomas, are you alright?

- I'm fine.
- Fine?

Is this your life now?

Watering the plants, waiting for death?

Oh, don't be so dramatic.
That is not what I'm doing.

In fact, I'm thinking we
should move back to England.

You'd like Yorkshire.
The boys would like it.

I'm not moving to Yorkshire!

I'm raising our sons in Canada.

It's their home. Our home.

And you're running away from it.

- It's not that simple.
- Yes, it is.

What happened to the man I
married, all piss and vinegar?

It's not all about piss and vinegar.

It's about keeping you safe.
Protecting Bobby and John.

We don't need protection.

I was in the hospital
three months, Margaret.

I told myself that if I got out,

I would never again put my family at risk.

- I intend to keep that promise.
- In exchange for what?

Do you want this to be
the rest of your life?

If it means keeping my family safe.

Your family will be
fine with or without you.

But we won't be fine
with you as you are now.

We want the old you back.

Besides, you're not some poncey painter.

I thought I was quite good.

You're a policeman, Thomas.

Don't turn into an old man on our account.

We're looking for the Blackpool residence.

Supposed to pick up an icebox.

Do you know whereabouts they live?

Oh, yes, of course. It's just, uh,
down the street, and then a right.

Well thank you kindly, ma'am.

- Yes, absolutely...
- Margaret!

- Get back here!
- I'm sorry, excuse me.


- Is everything alright?
- What did they want?

They were just asking for directions.

Why, Thomas? What's wrong?


Both Mr. Richard Dawkins and our Jane Doe

were found murdered. Both of their deaths

are connected by the Toronto waterfront.

- I see.
- Now, it's possible

that our Jane Doe was a prostitute

that Richard Dawkins procured.

- Do you think he killed her?
- Possibly.

But both Mick and Tim O'Shea
have been arrested several times

for violent crimes down by the docks.

It's more than likely
that they're responsible

for one or both of these murders.

Sir, I've taken a young lad
into custody, he spends a lot

of time down at the docklands.
I think he might know something.

Well, alright, I'll speak with him.

Let me try, sir, I think
I can get him to talk.

Fine. I'll speak with Mrs. Dawkins.

- Sir.
- Alright.

This is outrageous!

Please, let me finish.

First you suggest my husband
is consorting with doxies,

and now you call him a murderer?

Where was your husband
the night before his death?

You mean the night before
he was brutally murdered?

How you doing with that investigation?

Please. Where was he?

I don't know.

Richard was no saint,
but he was not a killer.

- I'm not a dog.
- Well, you certainly

run like a dog. Would you
have preferred handcuffs?

Where are you taking me?

I'm taking you to the Don
Jail, and then they'll send you

- off to the workhouse.
- You can't do that!

- You broke the law!
- But...

You can't. My mother needs me.

Well, perhaps you should
have thought about that.

If I tell you something,
will you let me go?

I suppose it would depend
on what that something is.

I can tell you who attacked the copper.

I saw it.

Tell me something.

It was Mick and Tim O'Shea.

What is this? It'll never happen!

Just keep on walking, ladies.

Let's see what our members of
parliament have to say to this.

When he ripped that petition

in front of us, I thought I would burst.

Eileen! Eileen!

You come home, right now!

Did you not hear me?

Just keep on walking, ladies.

The boy will remain in
custody until the O'Sheas

- are behind bars.
- Thank you, sir.

- Jackson?
- Sir.

You sure you up to this?

- Right as rain.
- Alright.

What do you want?

We're looking for Mick and Tim O'Shea.

They're not here.

I'll be the judge of that.

Let us pass.

You'll pass when I say so.

What we are asking for

is not scandalous,

although there are some who think

our very presence here is shocking.

Indeed, so shocking,

that the government refuses to acknowledge

our very existence.

And we're not asking for
much. All we are asking

is nothing more than to be treated

as intelligent citizens.

I'll arrest the lot of you if need be.

- George.
- Lads!

Stand aside.

- Never!
- Men!

And now we are asking more loudly

and more forcibly, for you all know

there is one inescapable truth:

A woman has two children.

One is quiet and mild,

the other is loud

and complaining.

We know which one gets fed first.

We know which one gets listened to.

We have come here to... Get off of her!

Emily, let's go! Quickly!

You're not getting by!

Take your hands off me!

Mick O'Shea, you're under arrest!

Show yourself!

You should have listened.

We own the waterfront.


You're not the law down here.


Come on, Tim, let's get
away from here! Hurry up!


Sir, get them!

- Inspector!
- Crabtree.

Go see to Murdoch.

Where are you going?

To end this.


The O'Sheas are mine.