Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media
[suspenseful music]
♪♪
Ah, pleasure to meet you.
Pleasure to meet you.
Thank you for your support. Enjoy the parade.
Hello, there. How are you?
Well, Mr. Hidell,
no one can say that Toronto doesn't love us now.
As for members of the Orange Lodge,
yes, Mr. Mayor.
As for our policies at City Hall,
that's up for debate.
Not today, it isn't.
Gentlemen.
When the parade turns onto Queen Street,
keep your eyes open for anyone concealing their hands-.
Handkerchiefs, newspapers, hands in pockets,
that sort of thing.
Sir, you're taking the threats
against the mayor's life seriously?
We can't take any chances, George.
Sir.
Another summer, another bloody Orange parade.
At least the crowd looks cheerful.
That's because they're all Protestants around here.
Just wait till the parade cuts through Corktown.
See how cheerful everybody is then.
Why does the parade have to go through Corktown?
It's all about rubbing the Catholic noses in the dirt,
me old mucker.
Take away the Catholics, there's nothing to parade about.
[clock bell tolling]
[cameras clicking]
[gunshot]
That was a bloody gunshot, Murdoch.
- Driver! - Go! Go!!
Get!
This is good.
Mayor Hopkins, are you hit?
The bullet just passed through.
Oh.
Yes, sir, I'm afraid it did.
- George. - Detective.
Sir, we're getting conflicting reports.
Some people think the shot came from this direction.
Other people think that it was from here,
behind these packing crates.
- No, George. - What they heard was an echo.
Let's see. The carriage was here.
So the shot must have come from...
there.
Was that a gunshot I heard just now?
It was. Where were you when you heard it?
I was on the stairs.
I was coming down to see the parade.
- Your name, ma'am? - Judith Lance.
Have you see anyone else on these stairs?
Well, a man passed by with a carpet a few moments ago.
Check the upper floors.
- You, there! Stop! - Identify yourself!
- Leonard Bowers. - What's your business here?
- I'm the janitor. - What's happening?
Have you seen anyone else here in the last few minutes?
No, sir.
Higgins, check the fourth floor.
All right.
Who are you?
Toronto Constabulary.
What's your name,
and what business do you have in this building?
- Clay Miller. - I own this building.
Do you have a key to this door?
- Yes. - Yes, of course.
- Sir. - What have you, George?
The building is mostly empty, sir.
Everyone was likely outside, waiting for the parade.
There was a janitor on the third floor landing.
- What's his name? - Leonard Bowers.
- That's right. - He works for me.
Mr. Miller...
Who rents this space?
No one at the moment.
A shell casing, sir.
No sign of the shooter, sir,
but the door to the roof was open.
He likely went down the fire escape.
Nevertheless, Henry,
have constables do a thorough check of the building.
Mr. Miller, you have a camera.
Did you take any photographs prior to the shooting?
I did, yes.
Then I'll be needing your camera.
George, Henry, confiscate every camera out there today.
Yes, sir.
We found where the shot came from, sir.
What about the shooter?
Must have slipped away with the crowd.
Bloody hell.
Well, let's round up the usual troublemakers.
Who would they be, sir?
The Irish Catholic, of course.
Sir, I'm Catholic.
Are you a troublemaker?
Start with the known agitators, and let's see where we are.
You were found two blocks from the shooting.
What were you doing there?
I was waiting to see the parade.
Why would a Catholic man
want to watch the Orangemen march?
I love a good parade.
You were arrested last year for inciting a riot.
You once threatened to firebomb the Orange Lodge.
I've seen the error of my ways.
Where were you between 11:30 and noon?
I was having lunch with a friend.
Sean Gallagher's his name.
Mr. Gallagher, are you at all familiar with Liam Cuddy?
- Indeed I am. - I've known him almost 20 years.
- Oh. - When did you see him last?
Sitting in your hallway, wondering what he's doing here,
like the rest of us.
Before that?
We were having a pint and a beef stew
at Murphy's lunch counter.
Until what time?
Until shortly after noon, I'd say.
Sir, I've conducted...
Detective Murdoch, I see you've returned.
- Chief Constable. - Yes, I have.
Congratulations on your promotion.
Yes, that's right.
You left town before I was appointed.
Quite suddenly, as I recall.
Almost as if you were fleeing justice.
What have you got, Murdoch?
Sir, I've interviewed all of the known Irish agitators,
and all of them claim alibis.
Well, it'll take a couple of days to check them all out.
And until you do,
all of the suspects remain in custody.
That's impossible.
My jail cells are fit to burst as it is.
One of these men is the killer.
Which means the rest of them are not.
We detain them all,
it could cause riots in the streets.
Do you really want a re-creation
of the Battle of the Boyne in Toronto?
Well, have it your way.
But find me the killer, and soon.
This is a Protestant city.
The Irish Catholics are not the only people who can riot.
William!
Julia.
- I'd heard you were back. - You look...
Uh, well, you're- You're married now.
I- Um...
Do I look that different?
- No, no, of course not. - What I meant to say is...
Well, my best wishes to you and Darcy.
- Well, that's very kind of you. - Thank you.
And I apologize for not being able to attend.
I think I understand why you didn't.
Julia-.
We must accept the decisions we've made, William.
It's the only way to move on with our lives.
Now, how can I help you, Detective?
[clears throat]
Have you completed your postmortem
on Alderman Hidell?
It's being done as we speak.
My protégé, Dr. Grace, is taking the lead on this case.
Your protégé?
She's more than capable, I assure you.
Death was instantaneous.
The bullet entered the victim's right temporal lobe
at approximately 22 degrees.
It deformed immediately after penetration,
resulting in the massive wounds transecting the brain.
But I'm curious.
What kind of bullet can enter a man's skull,
cause extensive internal damage, and yet not exit the cranium?
Certain high-velocity rounds
tend to deform faster upon impact,
leading to less penetration.
In this case, it was a centerfire 30-30.
Hmm.
Who would use this type of ammunition?
Hunters, farmers, sportsmen.
But you, of course, knew that already.
Dr. Ogden tests me at every turn.
Please don't feel you have to do the same.
Dr. Grace, Detective Murdoch is among the best in his field.
This comes from experience and deserves respect.
- It's quite all right, Julia. - Julia?
- Yes. Please excuse me. - Dr. Ogden.
Please, William.
Is the bullet's trajectory through the mayor's hat
consistent with the entry wound in Alderman Hidell's skull?
The bullet
passed through the hat at an angle of 12 degrees.
But entered Alderman Hidell's skull at 22 degrees.
It is my theory that at the moment of impact,
Alderman Hidell's head was tilted
ten degrees to the right,
perhaps leaning into the conversation.
Hmm.
A single shot, then, intended for the mayor
but killing Alderman Hidell instead.
- That would be my conclusion. - Dr. Ogden?
I concur.
Very good.
Dr. Grace, it was a pleasure to meet you.
Thank you for your insights.
Dr. Ogden, once again, my regards to Darcy.
Sir?
What have you, George?
The first batch of photographs from the confiscated cameras
and some slides and prints.
There's still a roll of moving picture film
that needs to be developed.
- Anything of interest? - Yes, sir.
See this chap in the background here?
I believe you interviewed him earlier today.
- Yes, George. - That's Liam Cuddy.
He told me he was nowhere near the building
at the time of the shooting.
I'd say that carpet he's carrying
would easily conceal a rifle.
Most people would handle a rifle cartridge
with their thumb, index finger,
and possibly their middle finger.
Now, the print I've recovered from this shell casing
is the wrong pattern
and too small to be a thumb print.
But...
It's just the right size
to match Liam Cuddy's index finger.
So we have our man.
Not anymore.
I convinced the chief constable
to release all of them earlier today.
- On what basis? - Not enough evidence.
But here it is.
And I'll be sure not to let him go this time.
Toronto Constabulary! Liam Cuddy, show yourself!
Go on.
[gasps]
On your feet.
- Who are you? - Marianne Cuddy.
You have no right to trespass like this.
Where's Liam?
- I don't know. - He left for work this morning.
Crabtree, check the rest of apartment.
Liam has done nothing wrong.
He lied to an officer of the law
investigating a murder.
We have proof he was in the area
just before the shooting.
- What shooting? - The Orange parade.
Don't play silly buggers with me.
I'm Catholic.
I don't pay any mind to that parade.
I wasn't there.
I found this in the closet.
Ah.
A centerfire 30-30.
Imagine that.
Liam would never shoot anybody.
It wasn't him. He was set up.
If you wish to help Liam, tell us where he is.
I honestly have no idea.
We had him, locked up, and what did we do?
We let him walk out, of course.
Just brilliant.
Sir, we had no more reason to hold Liam Cuddy
than any other suspect.
Send out an alert to all stations.
I've taken care of that.
Sir, the late edition already has the story,
with a picture of Liam Cuddy.
How did they know he would be our suspect?
First to tell the story sells the paper, George.
Good thing.
With his face all over the city,
it shouldn't be too difficult to pick him up.
Again.
Crabtree, I want you, Higgins, and every available constable
out on patrol looking for Liam Cuddy.
Sir.
Well, get a move on.
Aren't you glad you came home, Murdoch?
It seems to me that the whole Orange Day parade
just smacks of being a sore winner.
How so?
Well, every year,
the Protestants want to remind the Catholics
that they lost a battle.
One battle 200 years ago, George.
Ah, it's a simple show of pride, Henry.
Ugh.
- [men shouting and laughing] - Whoa!
Good evening!
You call that pride, George?
There's nothing on Liam's whereabouts yet.
Any luck with the rifle?
Yes, sir.
I've lifted two sets of finger marks,
Liam Cuddy's and his wife, Marianne's.
And judging by the residue in the barrel...
[gun clicks]
The gun was fired very recently.
So that's it, then.
Enough to put a rope around Liam's neck.
Yes, sir, I suppose it is.
[men grunting]
[punches landing]
Hey! You there!
- What's that all about? - Crabtree.
- Oh, my God. - It's Liam Cuddy.
Mr. Cuddy, can you hear me?
- We'll get you some help. - I'll be right back.
You're gonna be all right.
- It wasn't me. - What did you say?
I'm just a patsy.
George, did you get a good look at the men
running from the alley?
No, sir.
I just found these around the corner.
Looks like the killer discarded the evidence.
Do you think he was deliberately targeted, sir?
Detective Murdoch.
I heard on the call box that Station House Three
just arrested a gang of Orangemen
for assaulting an Irish Catholic, sir.
One of them wasn't wearing any shoes.
Or boots.
Listen, I was the one who got beat down.
I was going home after pints,
and a bunch of God-loving Catholics knocked me down,
took my boots.
How do you explain your arrest?
Well, I chased after them,
and by the time I caught up with them,
my mates were already swinging fists
with these bastards!
Then the police show up, haul me off,
and the only thing I got was my arse kicked
and my boots stolen.
Those aren't mine.
- Try them on. - I insist.
- So I'm a size ten. - What of it?
Same as half the men in this city.
With Liam dead, someone saved the Crown attorney
a pile of work.
If we assume his guilt, sir.
All we have at the moment are two unsolved murders.
If I may say, I think we should consider
Liam Cuddy's dying words.
He dismissed himself as being just a patsy.
Yes.
What the bloody hell's a patsy?
It's an Irish expression, sir, for "unknowing dupe."
Well, that's bollocks.
We've got Liam's finger marks on his rifle
and on a shell-casing recovered from the scene of the crime.
He bare-face lied about where he was
at the time of the shooting.
He had "guilt" written right across his forehead.
Exactly, sir, which is why I find it odd
that he would only admit to being a patsy.
I mean, as a Catholic,
is he not supposed to confess his sins before he dies?
Crabtree, has it ever occurred to you
that a murderer can also be a liar,
even to the Great Almighty?
Yes, but shouldn't we give Liam
the benefit of the doubt
before we condemn him posthumously?
Show him the photograph.
Sir, this is a picture of Liam Cuddy
entering the Miller building.
Look at the reflection in this window.
It's the City Hall clock tower.
Note the time, sir.
One minute after 12:00.
How's that?
Both: It's a reflected image.
- Right, right. - So it's one minute before noon.
That's pretty tight, isn't it?
Did Liam Cuddy have time to enter the building,
set up his rifle, take the shot, all in less than 60 seconds?
You better find out.
According to the photograph,
he was standing roughly here, George.
Sir, shall we assume the rifle is loaded?
Otherwise, it might add about four seconds
to our timeline inside the building.
Right.
Assume it's loaded for the first run.
The first run?
Oh, boy.
- All right, George. - On my mark.
Go!
[watch ticking]
Take time to line up a proper shot.
Bang.
- All right. - Stop there, George.
I thought we'd time the escape as well, sir.
No need.
We're already at the 75-second mark.
It's unlikely Liam Cuddy had time to make the shot.
Let alone escape from the fourth floor.
Exactly.
Yet a witness claims to have seen a man
running up the stairs with a rolled-up carpet.
I was right here on the third floor
when he passed me by.
On his way to the fourth floor.
Yes.
He was in such a rush,
he nearly hit me on the head with the carpet.
But he apologized. I thought that was very nice.
And what then?
Well, then I continued downstairs to catch the parade.
That's when I heard the loud bang.
You heard the gunshot
after the man passed you on the stairs?
Yes, that's right.
Thank you, Mrs. Lance.
Sir, if the gunshot came from the second floor
while Liam Cuddy was on his way to the fourth floor,
there's no way he could have pulled the trigger.
He was a patsy.
So it would seem, George.
Mrs. Lance was standing on the third-floor landing
when Liam Cuddy passed by her.
That was before the shot was fired.
You think she's a reliable witness?
She seemed fairly sharp to me, sir.
And you know for a fact
that the shot came from the second floor?
It's consistent with the angle of the shot
through the mayor's hat
and the relative height of the two men.
It's also where we found the spent shell casing.
Which you now think was planted.
There's no other explanation, sir.
Liam Cuddy was set up.
A little due diligence could have uncovered this
before we announced Cuddy as our chief suspect.
We weren't exactly given the opportunity, were we?
This is bad news.
The city believes we've got the killer.
The Orangemen are calm. The Catholics are cowed.
If this gets out, it could set them all off again.
And the parade has been rescheduled
for two days from now.
Could be a blood bath.
We need to re-interview all the witnesses.
Who provided Cuddy's alibi?
I don't think we're looking at a Catholic, sir.
And how's that?
Sir, if the shooting was motivated
by hatred toward the Orange Lodge,
why then set up a fellow Catholic?
Yes, you lot do like to stick together, don't you?
This doesn't get out.
Conduct your investigations
as if you're tying up loose ends.
Is that understood?
The liver is a treasure house of information.
Even a cursory inspection of this man's liver
tells us he was a heavy drinker.
Further analysis will no doubt confirm it.
So why have you chosen to work here,
as opposed to the land of the living?
I don't have the patience
to adopt a cheerful bedside manner.
And you, Doctor?
I suppose I see myself as an agent of the law.
Detective Murdoch and I
have brought many criminals to justice.
I found it to be richly satisfying.
"Found" it?
- Oh, yes. - I meant "find" it.
Like I said, I don't know anything.
Mrs. Cuddy,
I understand your reluctance to speak to the police.
I, too, am Catholic.
It's my intention to clear your husband's name.
But I need to know everything he's told you.
He came home wild with fright.
He showed me a rifle he had wrapped up in a carpet.
He said he found it at the office.
Which office?
Where he was delivering the carpet to.
The rifle was just leaning against the desk.
Why did he take it?
It was his rifle.
He recognized it.
What was it doing there?
Someone must have taken it and put it there.
He was set up.
Yes.
A regular Patsy Bolivar, he was.
I can prove it too.
This is his waybill for the carpet he was delivering.
It's says right there, "Must deliver by 12:00 noon."
Now, why would they say that
if they didn't want him to be there right at that time?
Yes, that's my carpet.
I had it sent out to be cleaned.
It was delivered by Liam Cuddy.
I never received it.
Hmm.
Did you ask for it to be delivered
to your fourth-floor office before noon?
I believe I did.
I couldn't expect my staff to miss the Orange parade
waiting for a carpet to be delivered.
Don't you find it strange
that the man delivering your carpet
is the same man accused of an assassination attempt
on the mayor?
I imagine that was his excuse for being there.
You took this photograph, did you not?
I did.
May I ask,
what were you taking a photograph of?
I guess I was just recording the day.
Oh.
So I suppose we're just lucky
that you happened to take this photograph at this exact time.
May I ask the purpose of this interview?
Just tying up loose ends.
Sir, I spoke to Liam Cuddy's boss.
Apparently, he left the carpet cleaners at 11:00 a.m.
It's hardly a 20-minute walk to Mr. Miller's office.
Then he should have arrived well before noon.
I wonder what took him an hour.
Perhaps someone held him up.
We were having a pint and a beef stew
at Murphy's lunch counter.
Until what time?
Until shortly after noon, I'd say.
Mr. Gallagher, this photograph was taken
shortly before noon yesterday.
What of it?
You claim you were with Liam Cuddy until after noon.
So I was wrong about the time.
I bought the man lunch.
I wasn't lying.
Do you often buy him lunch?
I wanted to talk with him.
What about?
Liam was a firebrand.
He liked to stir things up with the Orangemen.
As a businessman and leader of the Irish community,
I felt obliged to impress upon him
that his behavior was in conflict with our interests.
I thought I had succeeded.
Is Gallagher involved, then?
I have no proof, sir.
But I can't think of a better way
to time Liam Cuddy's arrival at the murder scene.
You think he set him up?
He knew where Liam lived, had access to his rifle.
The question is, why?
Why would he set him up?
Sir.
I arranged the photographs chronologically.
I've noticed something very interesting.
See these two chaps in the background here.
Note that this man is pointing
in exactly the same direction as these witnesses are here.
This photograph was taken after the shooting.
Yes, sir, but this one was taken beforehand.
He's pointing to where the shot came from,
before the shot was fired.
That's Alderman Ketchem.
And look who he's speaking to.
Do you recognize those sideburns?
Curious.
Now, what would a warehouse stacker like Jack Leary
be doing chatting up an Alderman?
They're both Orangemen.
Oh, but they're not like Masons, sir.
A man like Leary wouldn't mix with the toffs.
Right, then, George.
Look into why an aldermen might want to have the mayor killed.
But remember, be discreet.
As far as anyone's concerned, Liam Cuddy is our only suspect.
Sir.
And, George, there was a moving picture of this.
When will that be developed?
I'll check into it, sir.
[projector clacking]
[knock at door]
Sir, I believe I've discovered something.
As you know, a few years back,
City Council appointed a Board Of Control,
comprised of three aldermen.
Well, sir, according to my sources at City Hall...
What sources?
Well, sir, my Aunt Petunia works at the lunch counter
where the mayor takes his meals.
So she says she overheard the mayor
speaking with a colleague
about how he thought the board had become too powerful.
He was going to break up the Board Of Control,
and I think that's why they tried to kill him.
Who is "they," George?
Well, sir, everyone who stood to benefit from the status quo:
Business owners, contractors,
the members of the board themselves, of course,
the whole-.
Call it the municipal-industrial complex.
George, the victim was part of the board.
Well, sir, it's my belief that Hidell was the only one
who was not one of the conspirators.
- Hold on, Murdoch. - Crabtree may be onto something.
The Board Of Control oversees lucrative contracts
worth millions of dollars.
There are powerful interests at stake.
Right, then, George.
Bring in Alderman Ketchem for a conversation.
Sir.
Who were you speaking with in this photograph?
I don't know his name.
What were you talking about?
- I don't recall. - Why?
He's a suspect in this case.
I thought you had your suspect.
We believe more than one person was involved.
What were you pointing at?
I don't remember.
It was the open window the shot came from,
before it even happened.
Are you suggesting I somehow had foreknowledge of this?
The mayor wanted to break up the Board Of Control.
As a controller, you stood to lose a great deal of power.
[scoffs]
Even if one were to accept your absurd premise,
I'd have been no further ahead by killing the mayor.
How's that?
His replacement would have been the head controller,
Alek Hidell.
Alek wanted to break up the board too.
Could they both have been targeted?
With a single bullet, sir?
Two birds with one stone.
Even if it were physically possible
to penetrate both skulls with a single bullet,
both skulls would have to be in perfect alignment.
Hard enough to set up,
even if the victims were cooperating.
And why bother?
If the intention was to kill both,
then why not simply keep shooting
until the task was done?
[projector clacking]
The bullet entered
the right side of Alderman Hidell's skull.
Now that we've removed the calvaria, the skull cap,
and pulled back the dura,
you can see that the bullet
travelled in a downward trajectory,
stopping just above the left ear.
It's that downward angle that troubles me.
It's inconsistent with the bullet's trajectory
through the mayor's hat.
Well, Dr. Grace speculated
that his head was tilted to the right
at the moment of impact.
But it wasn't.
You see, both men are facing forward
just prior to the shot.
My goodness, you're right.
Now watch.
As the bullet strikes,
the mayor's hat pitches forward and to the right,
and Alderman Hidell's head goes back and to the left.
It's as if the bullet entered from this side,
reversed direction,
and instantaneously went through Hidell's head.
A magic bullet.
Or there were two shots coming from opposite directions.
Impossible.
Both men are seated side by side.
To shoot one, you would have to shoot the other.
Unless...
Julia, this photograph was taken
at the exact same moment as this frame,
but from a slightly different angle.
If we were to merge the two using a stereoscope...
You could reproduce the illusion of depth.
Very clever, William.
- Julia. - Have a look.
Oh, my goodness!
Look, William.
They're not sitting side by side after all.
They couldn't have been shot by the same bullet.
No, the bullet that killed Hidell
came from the left.
And the bullet that went through the mayor's hat
must have come from the right.
You were right.
There were two shooters after all.
You never cease to amaze, Julia.
We've always made a good team.
- Two shooters? - Yes, sir.
The bullet that killed Alderman Hidell
came from Clay Miller's building,
but the bullet that passed through the mayor's hat...
Actually came from behind the packing crates
on the other side of the courtyard.
Exactly, George.
Sir, what I assumed was an echo was, in fact, a second shot,
which would explain the angle of the bullet's path
through Hidell's skull.
It didn't come from the second floor.
It came from the third floor.
So who else was in the building
other than that old girl?
You say you were on the third floor
at the time of the shooting, and yet you saw nothing.
That's true.
What were you even doing there at that time?
I thought Mr. Miller gave his employees time off
to watch the parade.
- Just the office folk. - I'm the janitor.
Oh.
And how long have you been at the job, Mr. Bowers?
Mr. Miller hired me two weeks ago.
Is he our triggerman?
One of them, I believe, but we have no proof.
- What's the plan, then? - Keep the janitor in custody?
For now.
George and Henry are going through his room.
In the meantime, sir, I find it curious that Clay Miller
is connected to this incident in so many different ways.
Mm.
That's right.
I hired Leonard Bowers about two weeks ago.
Good worker.
Why was he not given the same time off
as your other employees?
- He was. - I suppose I forgot to tell him.
Mr. Miller, you had a carpet cleaned and delivered
by a supposed assassin at a very specific time.
You took the photograph that proved
that man was in that building at that time.
Haven't we discussed this?
Liam Cuddy wasn't the shooter.
Our prime suspect is now the man you hired barely two weeks ago,
the same man that remained in the building
when all of your other employees went outside.
[laughs lightly]
Are you suggesting
I conspired to kill Mayor Hopkins?
Mayor Hopkins and Alderman Hidell, yes.
I don't even know Hidell.
And the mayor?
He's one of my closest friends.
Hell, I funded his campaign.
He's not my only friend either. I have a lot of friends.
Ask your chief constable. He's one of them.
- Sir. - A moment?
Have a seat, Mr. Miller.
Retrieved from Leonard Bowers' room.
It's a center-fire 30-30.
We also found this, sir.
It's a membership card for the Toronto Rifle Club.
Very good, George.
That's not all, sir.
Guess who else was a member there?
- Enlighten me. - Shoeless Jack Leary.
So we were in the same rifle club.
What of it?
You also know Alderman Ketchem.
What were you two talking about there?
I don't remember.
What's he pointing at?
Pigeons.
- Pigeons? - Now I remember.
We had a nice conversation about pigeons.
Interesting fact:
Did you know that pigeons mate for life?
[chuckles]
We've got nothing that will support a charge
and less than a day to hold them.
Oh, bloody hell.
And that's your case against these men?
Are you both mad?
- Sir, I- - Let me summarize, if I may.
You've arrested a man because he was a member of a gun club.
You've arrested another man
because he was a member of the same gun club.
Oh, and he once wore socks outdoors.
You suspect Clay Miller
because he had his carpet cleaned.
And Alderman Ketchem is clearly a suspect
because he points at pigeons.
Am I missing anything here?
Sir, the fact that there were two shooters-.
Tells me that there's one other person involved.
One, not the baker's dozen
that you seem intent on conjuring.
So who is the second shooter, then?
Someone from the Catholic community, obviously.
They were the ones making threats.
Against the mayor.
Why target Alderman Hidell?
I don't know.
But what I do know is that your evidence against these men
is laughably inadequate.
He's right, you know.
We don't have enough evidence to hold them much longer.
[clock chimes]
Bloody hell.
We'll be releasing them just before the parade.
This might sound like a daft question, Murdoch,
but do you care for a drink?
Thank you, no.
I thought the Klondike might have loosened you up a bit.
It'd do you good.
[clock bell tolling in distance]
[clock ticking]
[indistinct chatter]
Well, that's my philosophy, anyway.
Whenever there's time, always have a drink.
That's what I say.
Especially with that bloody Giles
snooping around all the time.
He has us on notice, Murdoch.
[clock bell tolling]
Live for the present. That's what I say.
'Cause one never knows.
[clock bell tolling]
[guns clicking]
[gunshot]
Sir.
Both shots were meant to coincide
with the twelfth stroke of noon.
Why?
To make us think there was just one shot, I suppose.
- But why? - Why was it necessary?
Well, to make us think that-.
Bloody hell, Murdoch.
They wanted us to think they were shooting at the mayor.
When, in fact, they were shooting at Hidell.
And only Hidell.
But why go to all that trouble?
Why not just bash him over the head in a dark alley?
They wanted Alderman Hidell's death to appear accidental,
as though he were struck by a misguided bullet
intended for the mayor.
So what's the motive?
Alderman Hidell was the head controller, sir.
The head controller reviews all city contracts.
Perhaps he stumbled across something.
George!
Sir.
Bring in all of Hidell's files
and subpoena Ketchem's files as well.
At this time of night, sir?
Wake up a judge if you have to.
Sir.
What have you, George?
An undertaking
by the city-owned Toronto Waterworks
to expand the city's pipelines.
Guess who was awarded the contract
to oversee the project.
Clay Miller.
And the contractor hired
to build the sewers and water supply lines was...
Sean Gallagher.
George, who authorized this project?
Alderman Ketchem.
You allocated over $600,000 of taxpayer money
to a waterworks initiative.
That seems a bit excessive to me.
Is that so, Detective?
I didn't know you were an expert
on the costs of city infrastructure.
I'm not.
But Clay Miller was the highest bidder,
and you awarded him the contract.
I imagine some pockets were lined with that.
This deal is rife with corruption,
and your colleague Alderman Hidell
found out about it.
You have no proof.
I have Alderman Hidell's files.
Something I never would have looked into
had his death been an accident.
But it was murder,
and you will be going to jail.
You can follow this trail as far as you want, Detective,
but you will never pin Hidell's murder on me.
- We have a motive, sir. - Yes, a motive.
But all our evidence is entirely circumstantial.
We need a confession, Murdoch.
Sir, I think I know how to get one.
Mr. Gallagher, we know you're involved.
If you're willing to talk, we'll make a deal.
You wouldn't be offering a deal
if you had any evidence.
Perhaps.
But that's the trouble with conspiracies.
The chances of getting caught increase exponentially
with every added person involved.
How many were involved in this?
Alderman Ketchem, Clay Miller,
the two shooters.
And that's just the ones we know about thus far.
It only takes one person to talk.
And if that's not you, Sean,
the noose goes round your neck as well.
What kind of deal?
They needed a patsy.
And who better than a known Catholic rabble-rouser
to deflect the real reason for the assassination?
How did you find your shooters?
Clay Miller knew one of them.
He'd hunted with him.
Said he was the best shot he'd ever seen.
[over recording] Miller said the best place
to do it was during the parade.
What with the death threats the mayor had been receiving,
he was sure the police...
It was all Clay Miller's idea.
And not look our way at all.
It was a foolproof plan.
Well, gentlemen, it would appear
that you were right, and I was wrong.
That's big of you to admit.
So I suppose we can continue with murder charges
against Alderman Ketchem, Clay Miller,
and our two shooters, Bowers and Leary.
But not Sean Gallagher, as per his plea bargain.
Yes.
It's a pity that a guilty person has to go free.
But that does tend to happen here, doesn't it?
Gallagher is not free, sir.
He framed a member of his own community for murder.
They'll likely kill him before the others hang.
At the very least, he's a ruined man.
Sounds like justice to me.
[knock at door]
Julia.
I hear you've solved your case.
Thanks in a large part to you, as per usual.
Yes, well,
I'm afraid you'll have to rely on Dr. Grace from now on.
I beg your pardon.
I'm leaving, William.
I've decided to set up my own private practice
here in Toronto.
Are you quite sure?
- Your value here is- - We both know why, William.
If we'd forgotten,
we were reminded of it the last few days.
I just can't.
I'd hoped to leave before your suspension was up.
But I had so much to teach Dr. Grace, and...
well, I did want to say good-bye.
So...
Good-bye, William.
Good-bye, Julia.
And thank you.
For what?
For being honest.
Above all, I have always respected that.
Always.
[melancholy music]
♪♪
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