Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 8, Episode 9 - The Keystone Constables - full transcript

Inspector Murdoch investigates shooting of vaudeville comedian Bert Grady who is found dead on the street, shot three times in the chest. Grady had just finished his performance at the Bradley theatre, with Constables Crabtree and Higgins in the audience. The shooting looks like - or was made to look like - a robbery. He was not well-liked by others in the show, including a young juggler by the name of W.C. Fields and Ed Ward, Grady's one time comedic partner who is now far less popular on his own. The police find Grady's hotel room ransacked and suspect someone may have been out to steal his jokes. Would-be comedians Crabtree and Higgins join the show undercover and quickly identify Grady's mistress, Eleanor Moffat, wife of the show's manager, Lewis Moffat who became aware of their affair a week ago. A buried body gives them the clue to solving the crime.

(people laughing and chattering)

(booing)

(Henry): Enough already!

- Let's have Bert Grady!
- Yeah!

- BOO! Boo!
- Oh come on, Higgins. Don't...

- Higgins! Oh, here we go.
- (Higgins laughing)

People, please! Let's give a
hand to this fine young juggler,

W.C. Fields! And now,

- the funniest man in vaudeville...
- Bert Grady!

- ... Bert Grady!
- (Cheering and whistling)

- That was saucy. Very saucy.
- Bravo!



I sat down next to a guy at
the tavern. A chatty type.

He told me his mother-in-law was
an angel. I said, "Lucky you."

Mine's still alive!"

(laughing)

But that's not entirely
true. I do have a soft spot

for my mother-in-law. It's right
behind this theatre, in fact.

I missed her at first,

so I reloaded and tried again. That did it.

Now, you can't blame me; she told me

she always wanted to go down
under. I just didn't realize

"down under" meant Australia
until it was too late.

Now she's 6 feet under.

Not that she cared for me much
either, though. She said that

she was gonna dance on my
grave. I said that I hope you do,



'cause I plan to be buried at sea.

- (laughing loudly)
- (music striking up)

Thank you all very much. Thank you.

Thank you. (Whistling)

Ladies and gentlemen, boys
and girls! A round of applause

if you think that, hmm...

W.C. Fields should win

- the audience prize!
- (Booing)

- Really? What are you doing?
- I don't even have to ask,

do I? Once again,

the audience prize goes to...

- ... Mr. Bert Grady!
- (George): He deserves it.

(Henry): Yes he does.

We should try to meet him this time.

Actually, I had a
thought about that, Henry.

I noticed last time that
Bert Grady didn't leave

by the front doors with
the rest of the performers.

he must have slipped out
this way to avoid the fanfare.

- We should pitch him our jokes.
- No. They're not ready yet, Henry.

What's this? I told you I don't want to be

- pestered after shows.
- I'm sorry, sir. I'm sure

if you sign an autograph
you can be on your way.

Well? Pen and paper?

Oh no, we're not like that. Uh,
we're fans, just not that kind.

What the hell do you want then?

- Hello.
- Oh...

Better not be anyone here to
pester me tomorrow night, Lewis.

- We need to say something funny, George.
- It's too late,

- just let him go.
- Uh, Mr. Grady...

- What now?
- (George): We just wanted you

to know how much we enjoyed your monologue.

And we've written some jokes
that we think you might like.

Two constables are walking the
beat, and them one of them...

I write my own jokes. Thank you.

Thank you.

It's not easy being the star.
Don't take it personally.

- Oh, no, of course.
- Perhaps I can give you

- a tour of the theatre?
- Yes, that would be terrific,

- Mr...
- Lewis Hoffat. I'm the assistant manager to Mr. Allen

here at the Bradley Theatre.
And I'd love to hear your jokes.

(gun being cocked)

What the hell are you doing here?

Why?

- (gun firing again)
- (groaning)

- Good evening, Dr. Grace.
- Detective.

The deceased appears to be
someone of some notoriety.

If you like that type of thing.

He died about an hour
ago, approximately 11 PM.

Cause of death appears obvious enough.

Following a post-mortem, I hope to
determine the calibre of the bullet.

I suspect you'll find it was a .22.

That's consistent with what I'm seeing.

(Murdoch): Pockets are empty.

No wallet, timepiece, keys...

(Dr. Grace): A robbery.

- That's a rather violent one, no?
- Were there any witnesses?

Only one; a Miss Glenys
Moore, manager of the hotel.

She overheard the deceased say,

"What the hell are you doing here?"

just prior to the gunshots,
but she didn't see the incident.

- Then he knew his killer.
- Perhaps he was relieved

of his valuables to imply a robbery.

So Henry, what do you do if
you miss your mother-in-law?

Why George, you reload and you try again!

So I'm in a tavern and
a man next to me says,

"My mother-in law's an
angel." And I said to him...

"You're lucky, mine is still alive."

- (Brackenreid): Oy! Shh!
- How did that one about the grave go?

Uh, she never liked me
either, she said she was going

- to dance on my grave, and I said...
- Henry, we should do our work.

I said, "I hope you do, because
I plan to be buried at sea!"

- ... buried at sea! Ha ha!
- What the hell are you two

- cackling like school girls for?
- Oh, sir, it was

a terrific show last night
at the Bradley Theatre.

You were there? Shame about Bert Grady.

- Uh, how do you mean, sir?
- He was gunned down after the show.

I'm off to the theatre
with Murdoch as we speak.

(George): I don't believe it!

You know, I have soft spot

- for my mother-in-law...
- Oh, Higgins! Come on, man!

- It's just a joke, George.
- Well, he just died Henry! It's too early for jokes.

Too early.

(man humming indistinctly)

It's a moment of silence for Mr. Grady.

(making fart noise)

- (all chuckling)
- (Mr. Allen): What?

This some kind of a joke to you?

Without Grady pulling in the
people, we might all be out of a job!

Now look I know he was a son
of a bitch and some of you

are glad to see that he's gone,

but you better start to pull your weight.

One of you sad sacks might actually
win the audience prize, now.

So get back to work! You too, dummy.

(Hoffat): Excuse me, sir...

Detective Murdoch, Inspector Brackenreid

of the Toronto Constabulary.
We'd like a word about Mr. Grady.

We gave him a minute of silence,
that's all that Grady deserved.

We'll be investigating with
or without your cooperation,

Mr. Allen. It's to your
benefit that we have it.

Well, what's to investigate here?

The papers said it was a robbery.

The robbery may have been staged to
hide the killer's true intentions.

We have reason to believe that Mr. Grady

- knew his attacker.
- We'll be speaking with all your employees.

Is there anything you care
to tell us before they do?

Sure. Everybody hated him.

Make yourselves at home, gentlemen.

(squirting)

Ahem... Detective William
Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

- And you are?
- Uh, Ed Ward.

And your surname?

- I've just told you.
- You told me your name

- was Edward.
- That's right. Ed Ward.

- Edward who?
- Ed Ward is my name.

- Sir, I need your surname.
- OK, you have it.

It's Ward. Ed Ward.

- Ah.
- Hey, please, sit.

(Ward laughing)

Isn't that great?

That is my flatulence sack,
sir. Kids love this thing.

Mr. Grady performed as a monologist,

the most challenging of
disciplines in vaudeville.

Was there jealousy amongst the performers?

Well, I mean, I suppose we respected

his talent, just not the man himself.

Was he resented for his success?

Well, not by me. I'm considered the
best prop comedian in all of Vaud.

What do you think this is?

- A pole.
- Not just any pole;

it's my 11-foot pole.

For everything I wouldn't
touch with my 10-foot pole.

Anything else?

Looks like you need some practice. Catch!

- W.C. Fields, is it?
- Yeah.

And I'll be jumping the
first train back to the States

once my contract's up. Audiences are...

- ... more forgiving there.
- Mr. Fields, I believe that Mr. Grady

pelted you with a tomato
on stage last night.

Quite embarrassing, I would have thought.

Vaudevillians are supposed
to look out for one another,

- but not that man.
- I don't suppose

that compelled you to seek
retribution after the show?

Retribution? For what?

Grady may have been a
louse, but he was right.

I was horrible last night.

- Yep...
- Ooh, ooh!

Not as easy as it looks.

I understand Mr. Grady had
been winning the audience prize.

Yes. Ever since he became a
monologist three months ago.

- What did he do prior to that?
- He was in a prop comic

- two-act with Ed Ward.
- They were partners?

Yes, until he went off to become a star.

Mr. Ward has been unable
to match Grady's popularity.

I'm glad to see you're putting
George's wedding present

- to good use.
- And I'm happy to have a wife

who's willing to accompany
me on my investigations.

I'm actually quite excited about it. I
haven't seen a vaudeville show in ages.

Oh, Julia, I'd be careful
to temper my expectations.

I didn't find any of the performers
to be particularly amusing.

You can hardly determine that from
meeting them in a murder investigation.

What do you do with an 11-foot pole?

I couldn't be sure.

You use it to touch the objects

you wouldn't otherwise
touch with a 10-foot pole.

You see, that's the sort of

humour that will be on
display this evening.

Well, I'm looking forward to it

all the same. And hopefully
you'll glean something

for your investigation.

Hmm. Bert Grady, a
monologist, had been routinely

winning the audience prize. I wonder if

one of the other performers
murdered him to supplant him

- as the top act.
- It's possible.

The combination of professional jealousy

and monetary gain is reasonable motive.

- Shall we, Doctor?
- We shall.

As long as you don't attempt
to tell any more jokes.

(George): My mother-in-law hates me so much

she said she'd dance on my grave.

I said good, I plan to be buried at sea.

(chuckling): That's awful, George.

You do know in that scenario she'd wind up

beside you for an eternity.

Well yes, I suppose you're
right. Good thinking, Edna.

I guess Bert Grady didn't think
of that when he conceived the joke.

You should let me take
you to a show sometime.

Oh, I don't know, George.

Well there's all kinds of acts
there. Something for everybody.

Do you want me to just call a plumber?

No, heavens! Never pay for what
you could do yourself for free.

There we go.

That's all it was a clogged Ptrap.

I'm most thankful, George.

It was my pleasure.

(cracking knuckles)

(audience laughing)

(laughter swelling)

(playing dissonant chord)

(grunting) (audience murmuring)

(audience applauding)

(audience applauding)

(Ward): So the lady says to me, "You
should stop and smell the roses."

So I says to her... "Oh! You're all wet!"

(laughing)

Hey there folks, settle down.

I got a real treat for ya.

Ever seen one of these?
This is my 11-foot pole.

... For everything I wouldn't
touch with my 10-foot pole!

(laughing loudly)

Well, it's funny when he says it.

Thank you, I've been Ed Ward!

(manager): Alright, ladies and gentlemen,

it's up to you!

Now, who should win
the audience prize, hmm?

Should it be... W.C. Fields,

- the eccentric juggler?
- (Applauding)

Or should it be Toronto's strongest man?

(Mr. Allen giggling)

Or should it be Mr. Ed Ward?

- (applauding loudly)
- There you are,

ladies and gentlemen.
The audience prize goes to

the one, the only Mr. Ed Ward!

There ya go, boy.

It seems Mr. Ward is profiting

from his former partner's demise.

Indeed. Jealousy, bad blood,
and now financial gain.

- Motive for murder?
- Mr. Ward is becoming less amusing all the time.

Congratulations, Mr. Ward.

Did you enjoy the show, Detective?

- My wife certainly did.
- Mm-hmm.

Mr. Ward, you neglected to mention that
you and Mr. Grady used to be partners.

- I fail to see the relevance.
- You now have a substantial amount of money in your pocket

that would have otherwise
gone to Mr. Grady,

were he were still with us.

You think I'm wrapped up in this?

Now is your opportunity
to convince me otherwise.

Oh, no. I...

- I feel faint... Oh, my!
- (whoopee cushion farting)

Mr. Ward, where were you
last night at 11 o'clock?

Last night? I, uh... I... I can't...

Please, collect yourself

and recall your whereabouts
last night, Mr. Ward.

Uh... the dump! I was at the dump.

- The refuse dump?
- Yes!

Yes. That's where I get all my props.

- At 11 o'clock at night?
- Please sir, you have to believe me.

That's when the fresh load comes in.

Sir, I've just been to...

Are you making rubber bands again?

What have you, George?

Sir, I've just been to the refuse dump.

While nobody can confirm that Mr. Ward

was there at the exact time in question,

I have been told that he
frequents the place late at night.

That's the best time, apparently,

- when all the fresh loads arrive.
- Ah, yes.

Mr. Ward mentioned that.

George, if he is innocent, we
have to consider the possibility

that Mr. Grady's murder may have
nothing to do with his colleagues.

Sir, what I keep wondering is,

what's Mr. Grady, a man of means, even
doing in that part of town to begin with?

That's an excellent question.

- Mrs. Moore...
- Miss.

... Miss Moore,

you overheard Mr. Grady saying,

"what the hell are you doing
here," just prior to the gunshots?

Yes. As if he was surprised to see the man.

Likely even more surprised
when he was shot by him.

How can you be sure it
was Mr. Grady's voice?

Oh, I knew his voice. He
was always here. Kept a room.

For what purpose?

I believe he wrote his jokes here.

Always a notebook in hand.

But that's not all he used it for.

- He had female company.
- Always the same woman.

- Could you describe her for us?
- Slender woman.

Handsome except for the
scar on the side of her face.

(key turning in lock)

Oh, my! I should have
required a larger deposit.

(George): Miss Moore,
did you notice anybody

- suspicious in the hotel the night of the murder?
- In this hotel?

We don't exactly cater to Toronto's finest.

I believe what Constable
Crabtree is asking is,

could someone have slipped
past you and gained entry

into Mr. Grady's room?

I wouldn't know. I left the front desk

to see what happened outside.

Well, clearly someone
was looking for something.

This desk has been emptied out. Do
you know what Mr. Grady kept in here?

I wouldn't know.

Sir, do you think Mr. Grady
was murdered for his jokes?

- That's possible.
- Well, if that's the case, sir,

it stands to reason that
somebody at the theatre

might be responsible. And
that makes me wonder, sir,

if we should have a couple of constables

stationed there at the theatre,

undercover, posing as performers,

- to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.
- Who did you have in mind, exactly?

Well, I hadn't given it a
great deal of thought, sir.

- But I suppose...
- Jackson and Worsley could do.

- Excellent idea.
- Uh... Sir, nothing

- against Worsley, but...
- Would you like to do it,

- George? Perhaps you and Henry?
- That's an excellent idea.

In fact, Henry and I have been
working out a little routine.

Mm. Just clear it with Mr. Allen first,

- and don't forget why you're there in the first place.
- Sir, absolutely.

(in Murdoch's voice): Inspector, there's
been a robbery at the Toronto Bank.

- (in Brackenreid's voice): Oh, bloody Hell!
- I know, sir.

It's quite unfortunate.
Wha... wha... what is?

- The robbery.
- What robbery?

The Toronto Bank! I just told you it's
been robbed. Isn't that why you cursed?

No, Murdoch, I cursed

'cause I'm out of bloody Scotch!

- Pass.
- We've only just started.

- Pass!
- Mr. Allen, if somebody in your

employ is indeed responsible
for Mr. Grady's death,

is it not in your best interest to have
us around in case something happens?

Fine, you can be ushers.

Sir, I will point out that we

do not have a two-act
in our lineup presently.

You know what else we don't have?

A cat orchestra. Now that's
what people really want to see.

Sir, I will remind you that those are very

- difficult to book. It's a dying art form, it seems.
- Damn it, Hoffat,

I don't pay you to tell
me what we can't do,

- I pay you to get things done.
- Yes, of course, you're right,

sir, but nonetheless, I believe that if we
brought on a two-act it might be beneficial.

- You really want to put these two coppers on the stage?
- Even if they flop,

it'll be good for business.
Remember the Cherry Sisters?

That was my mother-in-law's brilliant idea.

Women just aren't funny.

I'll never put one on the stage again.

Yeah, but they were so bad that people
came to see just how bad they were.

- Audiences relish it.
- Fine. But I don't want

any of my boys knowing that they're
real coppers. And I'm not paying you!

- What if we win the audience prize?
- Henry! Mr. Allen, you won't regret this. I already do.

Now go find a place to
rehearse you're on tonight!

(George): Let's do it again,
Henry. Now be a little bit

more Murdoch-like if you could, this time.

- (Henry): Yes, sir.
- I told you,

- I'm out of bloody Scotch!
- I would like to interview

- the witnesses, sir.
- Are you sure that's top priority, Murdoch?

Perhaps you are right. I shall
start by checking the bank

- for fingermarks.
- No, not fingermarks.

I'm out of bloody Scotch!

You would like for me to buy
you some more Scotch first?

George, it's your line.

Higgins...

I think we've just found
the key to our case,

- me old mucker.
- Indeed, sir.

Eleanor Hoffat, wife of Lewis Hoffat,

the theatre's assistant manager. Sir,

she matches the description of
Mr. Grady's mistress exactly.

- (Dr. Grace): A robbery.
- It's a rather violent one,

Were there any witnesses?

Why were you at the scene
of Mr. Grady's murder?

- I wasn't.
- I saw you there.

He was already dead by the time I arrived.

Where were you at 11 PM, then?

- In a hansom.
- On the way to the hotel

to meet Mr. Grady. You were
carrying on relations with him.

I can bring in the hotel manager

to confirm that you were
indeed Mr. Grady's mistress.

Yes, I was.

How long had the affair been going on?

Two months.

Right, then. You're familiar with the room

- that Mr. Grady kept?
- Yes.

What was in his desk?

- Notebooks.
- Notebooks.

- For his monologues?
- Yes.

Do you know of anyone who may have
wanted to obtain those notebooks?

No. Detective, I assure you,

I know nothing about poor Bert's murder.

In fact I'd barely seen him this past week.

Why was that?

Because I didn't want to
carry on with him anymore.

I was going there to end our relationship.

Why that night?

I couldn't keep the secret any longer.

Lewis was devastated.

Hurting my husband that way is
the worst thing I've ever done,

and I'll never forgive myself.

When did your husband learn of the affair?

A week ago.

Well, thank you for
bringing me lunch, Edna.

Well, thank you for fixing my sink.

- Oh, is it leaking again?
- No.

You half sound as though
you expected it to.

Well, I may have exaggerated
my plumbing prowess.

That's a lovely sandwich, Edna.

It's nothing remarkable,
it's just ham and cheese.

And butter.

Oh, I have something for you.

(laughing): A vaudeville ticket?

I have to work, but I hear
there's a new comedic sensation

- making his debut this evening.
- Well, how can

- I resist? Thank you, George.
- And thank you for the sandwich.

I won't use butter next time.
You're even fussier than Simon is!

Butter has its place in many things, Edna,

but a friend of the sandwich it is not.

(chuckling)

Mr. Grady was a man of
considerable talent and charm.

And Eleanor is quite, um, impressionable.

- Where were you that night?
- At work.

After the show. 11 PM.

I work after the show. First in, last out.

Can anyone corroborate this, Mr. Hoffat?

- Your constables.
- My constables?

Certainly they told you.

I was giving Mr. Crabtree and Mr. Higgins
a tour of the theatre until midnight.

(Brackenreid): Hoffat's alibi
was Crabtree and Higgins?

- Now, there's a first.
- Something George neglected

- to mention.
- I'm sorry, sirs.

I am perhaps slightly distracted
with tonight's performance.

At any rate, the killer was clearly

after the contents of Mr. Grady's desk,

his monologues which would imply

someone with ties to the theatre.

Sounds like we better get
back to the Bradley tonight.

Oh, and we fully expect you
to report all of your findings

after this evening's performance, George.

If you're not too distracted, bugalugs.

Sirs...

(cheering and applauding)

Oh, God. Edna's here!

(Henry): Well, you did
give her a ticket, George.

You're sure you know all your lines, Henry?

Don't worry. I'll be great. I might
even crack the case while I'm at it.

- Tough crowd tonight, boys.
- Let's give a large round

of applause to the little but mighty

- Toronto's strongest man!
- (Audience cheering)

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

making their Bradley Theatre debut,

here they are,

The Madcap Coppers! Take it away, boys!

(applauding hesitantly)

Sir, I believe George is meant to be you.

Then Higgins is surely
meant to be you, Murdoch.

(woman): What are they gonna do now?

Inspector, there's been a
robbery at the Toronto Bank.

(booing)

I say, Inspector,

there's been a robbery at the Toronto Bank.

(booing and jeering)

- George, it's your line.
- I, wha... What?

Just say, "Bloody Hell!"

- Just say, "Bloody hell!"
- It's gotta get started

sometime, folks, and some people
shouldn't get started at all.

Get off the stage.

Well, since there's
nowhere else to go but up...

What happened, George?

Henry, I think you stepped
on my line. It threw me.

- I did no such thing!
- I don't know what happened,

- Henry, I'm sorry.
- You caught a glimpse of your

sweetheart in the
audience and you froze up.

If she even is my
sweetheart after this. Ugh...

And if you have a deep grudge
against yourself, marry a widow.

You married a widow.

- I did. Ugh!
- (Audience laughing)

I told her I would be her
captain in life, she said it was

too late to be her captain, now
I'm stuck as her second mate.

She's as fully large east and
west as she is north and south.

She was meant for twins
but was never divided.

I didn't kiss the bride for fear
the guests would lose their appetite.

(audience laughing and applauding)

Sirs, Mr. Fields' monologue
bore a striking resemblance

- to Mr. Grady's routines.
- Fields was a juggler as of yesterday.

And tonight he delivers a monologue

- that brings down the house.
- There's no way he could have

written something like that overnight.
It was a great bit of comedy.

It's as if somebody wrote it for him, sir.

- Perhaps he was the one that stole it from Grady's desk.
- He stole the bit!

Hmm...

The night that Hoffat showed
you around the theatre,

do you recall if Mr. Fields was still here?

- He had already left, sir.
- I'm sure he was feeling

distraught because his
performance flopped...

- a feeling I know from experience.
- Right.

Have a look in Mr. Fields'
dressing room, see if there

may be anything there
that could have been stolen

- from Mr. Grady's hotel room.
- Sirs.

I'll be with you in a moment, Higgins.

I have a small matter
to attend to. Oh... Ah!

That's better.

I trust that it would have been
a flattering portrayal of us.

Of course.

- Edna!
- Well, well.

George. I didn't know you were a comedian.

- Not much of one, clearly.
- Well, I enjoyed the show.

- Thank you for the tickets.
- Henry and I were thinking

about the case, you see,
and that's a distraction.

I think that came at the
cost of our performance.

- Yes, of course.
- Come again tomorrow night.

It will be less awful, I promise.

I don't think I can, George,
I'm otherwise engaged,

and I found the whole thing a
bit mean-spirited for my liking.

- Good night, George.
- Good night.

(Henry): George!

Look what I found in Fields' dressing room.

It's Bert Grady's monologues.

Right.

(Fields singing incoherently)

(Murdoch): Mr. Fields, might I have a word?

(very drunk): Would you
excuse us, my little chickadee?

What are you breaking up
the party for, Detective?

What were you planning to do once you ran
out of Bert Grady's material to perform?

What are you talking about?

This was Mr. Grady's notebook.
Some of the pages are missing.

Presumably they contain some
yet-to-be-performed monologues.

So what?

- It was found in your dressing room.
- What was it doing there?

- That was going to be my next question.
- I've never seen it before.

Mr. Fields, I saw your performance
tonight. It was remarkably like Mr. Grady's.

- What are you saying?
- I'm saying that you killed the man and stole his material.

- I certainly did not.
- Where were you at 11 o'clock

the night that Mr. Grady was murdered?

I went straight to my hotel... to drink.

- I had a rotten show that night.
- Made worse by Mr. Grady humiliating you on stage.

If you want the truth, here it is.

I didn't write tonight's
material. I bought it.

You bought it? From whom?

I don't know. I received an
anonymous letter under my door

offering to sell me jokes.

I was desperate. The
juggling wasn't working out.

- You all right, me old mucker?
- I wouldn't... I... I'm fine.

So is Fields our man, Murdoch?

I don't believe so, sir.

The hotel confirmed that
he arrived shortly after

the performance and promptly
ordered a bottle of whisky,

and then a second one an hour later.

Dedicated chap.

What about Grady's notebook
being in his dressing room?

He claims he's never seen it there before.

So, planted by the killer perhaps.

It's entirely possible, sir.

- Sirs?
- What have you, George?

The monologue that Bert Grady performed the
night he was killed is not in his notebook.

I don't know if the torn
pages could account for that.

What could be so valuable about bloody
jokes that you would kill for them?

George, how much do you and Henry recall

of Bert Grady's performance?

(all laughing) She told me she
was gonna dance on my grave.

I said "I hope you do, I
plan to be buried at sea."

Why are we standing
around listening to jokes?

This is a bloody murder investigation!

- Bear with me a moment, sir.
- What do you do if you miss

your mother-in-law? You
reload and try again.

Now, now, now, I do have a
soft spot for my mother-in-law.

It's right behind this theatre, in fact.

I told my wife her mother was down-under.

She thought I meant Australia.
At least she's six feet under.

- A man in a tavern said to me that his...
- Stop. George, Henry,

- get the shovels.
- Yes, sir.

(Henry): What do you think, George?

I think we've just found
somebody's mother-in-law.

The deceased is indeed a
female of around 70 years.

Based on the rate of decomposition,

I would say she died
approximately 6 months ago.

- And the cause of death?
- Three bullets to the chest.

.22 calibre.

Suggesting that this woman's
killer and Mr. Grady's

- could be one and the same.
- (George): Sir!

- Doctor Grace.
- Constable Crabtree.

Sir, I think I know who our
victim is: a Mrs. Edith Bradley.

- The theatre's namesake?
- That's right and rightful owner.

She's said to have moved
6 months ago to Australia.

"Down under", just as Mr. Grady
said in his comedy routine.

(Dr. Grace): 6 months does
coincide with the time of death.

And whose mother-in-law was
she unfortunate enough to be?

In all my years in this business,

this is the biggest joke I've ever heard.

Why would I kill my star performer?

Grady was a license to print money.

Mr. Grady knew you
killed your mother-in-law.

His monologue reflected
the details of the murder

I believe he was planning to blackmail you.

Now you're saying I killed Bert
Grady and my own mother-in-law?

With Mrs. Bradley out
of the way, you'd be able

to run the theatre as you see fit,

and all of the proceeds would go to you.

Well you're mistaken, Detective.

Mrs. Bradley moved to
Australia 6 months ago.

You waited outside of the hotel.

When Mr. Grady arrived you shot him.

You took his notebook and removed
the incriminating monologue.

You then planted that
notebook in Mr. Fields' room.

That's funny, Detective.

Have you ever thought
about going into comedy?

Well, if you liked that,
you're going to love this one.

Constable Crabtree found
this in your office.

The ballistics evidence is
a match for both murders.

You know what I still don't understand is,

how the hell did Grady know I killed her?

Two murders solved in one
day. Good work, Murdoch.

Thank you, sir.

But Keith Allen did pose
an interesting question.

- Question about what?
- How did Mr. Grady

know that Mr. Allen
murdered his mother-in-law?

What's it matter? You got
a confession, didn't you?

And regardless of all of that,

why blackmail someone
through a comedy routine?

And why was Mr. Grady surprised to see

Mr. Allen outside of his hotel that night?

There are more questions than
answers. Let it go, Murdoch.

I suppose you're right.

Are you coming to Crabtree and
Higgins' final show tonight?

- Oh yes, Julia insists.
- Well,

here's hoping for a repeat
performance from our lads.

I intend to get in on the action this time.

W.C. Fields, ladies and gentlemen.

Now, our next performer
will be making her debut

here at The Bradley Theatre,
please welcome Desperate Dora,

here to regale you with
stories of her busted romances!

(applauding hesitantly)

Sir, that's Eleanor Hoffat.

I didn't know she was a comedian.

Pays to be married to the new manager.

- (woman *1): Come on, love!
- (woman * 2): Come on, dear!

They tell me some foreign
countries find it difficult

to recruit men for their armies,
but they've got nothing on me.

I've been trying for years to
recruit just one man and can't do it.

(audience laughing)

Another monologist from nowhere,

just like W.C. Fields.

Perhaps she bought her routine as well?

I'm going to have a word with her.

I'm strong for conscription,

but then what can I expect?

Look at me, I'm so thin I
have to drink muddy water

so you can't see through
me. I'm hardly a catch.

Last summer I thought I had one landed,

a travelling salesman.

He suggested we go bathing.

But the moment he got a
flash, he kept on travelling.

A clinging wet bathing suit is alright

if it has something to cling to.

Mr. Hoffat. I need to speak
to your wife immediately.

- Yeah, but she's in the middle of a routine!
- Yes. And who wrote

- this monologue?
- Well, she did, of course.

Then I have to arrest her
for writing the monologue that

incited Mr. Allen to kill Mr. Grady.

Wait! It wasn't her. I
wrote it, just as I had

written for Mr. Grady
in exchange for money.

As well as the one Mr.
Fields performed recently.

- (audience laughing)
- Eleanor acted as my courier,

delivering the monologues
to Mr. Grady in his hotel.

That's how the affair began.

It wasn't enough that
I was making him a star,

he wanted my wife, too.

I should never have put
her in that position.

You provoked Mr. Allen to
do your murdering for you.

How did you know his secret?

I arrived early to the theatre one
morning and saw him digging a pit.

When Mrs. Bradley left for Australia,

I knew he had killed her.

Mr. Hoffat, you realize
I must arrest you now.

- On what charges?
- Inciting a crime is also a crime.

The courts will have to
decide on your punishment.

May I finish watching
Eleanor's performance?

This has long been a dream of ours.

(Eleanor): ... Perhaps it's just as
well that I cannot find a husband.

After all, a man will spend three dollars

a week on roses when he's courting a girl

but once married he won't
even take home a nickel's worth

- of dandelions. Thank you.
- (laughing and applauding)

Keith Allen didn't think
that women could be funny.

Thank you so much.

You would like for me to buy you
some more Scotch first, Inspector?

No, no, no, Murdoch! I'll pay for it.

On the other hand, you'll have to cover me!

I'm afraid you still owe me
from the last bottle, sir.

I think someone's been helping
themselves to my bloody Scotch.

- I doubt that, sir.
- Well then, we best check

for fingermarks, Murdoch.
Very well, Inspector.

- I'll be at the bank.
- Not the bank, Murdoch!

The bottles! Check the
bottles for fingermarks!

- Oh, bloody hell!
- (Laughing and applauding)

Inspector! I thought they were quite good.

Well, I didn't want to see it go to waste.

- We did it, George!
- Well done, Henry.

- We're going out on a high note.
- (Whistling)

A woman's waiting for you out back.

- Waiting for me?
- Yeah, you.

A woman drove me to drink, you know.

- I should write to thank her.
- (Chuckling)

Mr. Fields. You should
be doing your own jokes,

never mind this juggling business.

Not sure about the voice though, huh?

- I didn't know you were here.
- May I have your autograph?

Well, who's the comedian?

They let me watch from backstage.

- How did you manage that?
- I said I was your sweetheart.

I am, aren't I?

I'd hoped so.

Then you'll take me out?

For the finest dinner a
constable's salary can afford.

Well, Simon is at his
aunt's for the night, so...

Perhaps you would come
over for tea afterwards?

I'd like that. I'd like that very much.

Good. The pipes need fixing again.

- Oh...
- (Edna laughing)

The joke's on you, George Crabtree.

Oh, Julia. Come and
join me! The tea is here!

Brilliant!

William... How thoughtful!

I promise never to stop courting you.

Please...

- (whoopee cushion farting)
- (snorting)

It worked so well!

(both laughing)