(birds chirping)
(intriguing music)
(motor humming)
(old-fashioned horn honks)
(gasps) - Oh!
Dash, dash, dash, dot, dot, dot, dot.
- Are you all right, Henry?
- I’m learning to speak Morse code.
- To what end?
- Well, it was George’s idea. In his latest letter,
he said in the future, we’ll all be speaking to machines.
I want them to be able to understand me.
- And what did you just say?
- I said, "Oh!"
- Oh. You know, there has been a long interest
in adopting a universal language everyone can speak.
- That’s what I’m talking about.
- So you chose Morse code? - Yes.
- ...I want the daffodils in the hall. Oh.
Oh! Thank goodness you’re here.
- Detective Watts and Constable Higgins.
- Hallie Hobbs. - I understand a painting
has gone missing? - Yes. It was stolen last night.
(loud crash)
Oh, good lord. What now?
(panting)
- I told you! The other wall!
- What’s going on? - Whoa. Look at this.
(tense music)
- Oh my goodness.
(theme music)
- The bones appear to have been there for some time.
(Watts): Could be decades.
- And the portrait was only reported missing yesterday?
- Is it likely the cases are related?
Probably not. Still...
- Right. I’ll look into this.
See what you can find out about a possible theft.
What have you, Miss Hart? Man or woman?
- When I reassemble the pieces, I’ll have a better idea.
- Hm. Not much clothing remains.
Perhaps the insects got to the corpse.
Maggots, moths, flies.
- Heat and moisture may have accelerated
the decomposition, as well.
- Sir, do you think it’s possible that someone
climbed in here and got stuck?
- There isn’t much room.
- Blunt force trauma fractured the bone, possibly fatal.
- Right. Perhaps they were killed
and then sealed up in here.
- Sir, have a look at this.
- Detail is certainly unique enough.
Perhaps we can date its manufacture.
Henry, see if you can track down where and when this was made.
- Sir.
- Hm. Um...
I don’t think
the blow to the skull is what killed our victim.
- No?
- Uh, no. There are many scratches inside this wall.
The victim tried desperately to claw their way out.
- That wall was bound to crack sooner or later.
No point in blaming my people.
- Uh, I actually want to talk about the theft of the portrait.
- Miss Hobbs and Donelly already asked me about that.
- You and your men have been in and out at all hours, right?
- Wait a minute. If you think...
These are good, hard-working men.
Doubt they have much use for a family portrait.
- Right, but did you see
anything or anyone suspicious while working?
- People coming in and out of here all day.
- Mr. Fisher, have you completed your work?
- Nothing I can do about the sitting room
until they let me in again.
- It’s a crime scene.
- Can you at least help Miss Hobbs in the library?
- You know where to find me.
- Was the painting taken from there?
- Yes. - What would you estimate
to be the value of this portrait?
- Only sentimental.
Though it meant a great deal to Miss Hobbs.
- Hm. Can you describe it?
- It was of Hallie, her father, and late mother.
She was only a baby at the time.
The family stood in front of the Hopewell Rocks.
- New Brunswick. - Mm-hmm.
Before they moved to Toronto
and I came under their employ.
- How many entrances to the house?
- The main hall, kitchen, the library,
the servants’ entrance, the morning room--
- So, many. Are they kept locked?
- Never had a problem.
- Strange they didn’t take anything else.
Perhaps there’s more to this portrait than meets the eye.
- Miss Hobbs, had any work previously been done
to the wall prior to finding the remains?
- Not for as long as we’ve been living here. Right, father?
- Mmm. - Do you recall anyone
going missing through the years?
- No. - And how long has the home
been in the family?
- My father built this home in, uh, 1812.
- Uh, Mr. Hobbs.
So you’ve owned the home for over a century.
- Father, you’re thinking about the Saint John house.
- I know my own life, child.
- I’m sorry. (man groans)
My father is confused these days from age.
I just agree or he becomes agitated,
but I know for certain we bought this home in 1887.
- Oh. Do you know who the previous owners were?
- I believe the house had been repossessed
from the Morton family.
- Any idea where I might find them?
- Oh. I was very young.
But I do know my father dealt with the Bank of Toronto.
Perhaps they know where the Mortons ended up.
- Those criminals.
They deserved what came to them.
- I beg your pardon, sir?
- The Mortons. (scoffs)
Dirty Irish, the lot of them.
- Oh! I’m so sorry.
He-he doesn’t mean-- Perhaps I should take him to rest.
- Well, I-- - Come on.
- There were a number of valuables at hand,
many smaller and easier to carry.
- So why steal a large painting?
- I arranged a meeting with an art dealer to inquire.
- Miss Newsome. Your file on the Miller case.
- Thank you for this. - And what have we learned about
the previous owners of the Hobbs home?
- The property office has cleared it up.
The Morton family built the home in 1852
and then lost it to the bank in 1884.
They were, however, the only other family
to have owned the home,
so perhaps the remains are connected to them.
- Hm. The financial straits
could have made for desperate times.
- Unfortunately, I don’t know
much more about the family.
The records only say so much
and Mr. Hobbs’ memory is unreliable.
- You found a body at the Hobbs’ house?
I went to school with Hallie. - Oh! So you know them well.
- Hardly. In fact, I was surprised to be invited
to her fancy dress ball this evening.
The theme is extraordinary couples
from history and the written word.
- Ah, yes. We saw the preparations.
A grand affair for the gilded class.
- If you need to know more about the Mortons,
perhaps you could accompany Miss Newsome.
- Oh!
- Uh, I don’t have a costume.
- I’m sure we could find you something.
- It-it’s not really something I-I--
- But there will be people who knew them there.
And the gilded class has a long memory for scandal.
- And people do tend to speak more freely behind a mask.
(curious music)
- Definitely Sefton. His early work.
- Sefton? - Sefton Bellamy.
Tell me, why didn’t Constable Crabtree
come calling to seek my counsel? It’s been too long.
- He accepted a position with the Royal Newfoundland
Constabulary. Sefton Bellamy...
- All the way to Newfoundland
and without a word to me. I’m wounded.
- It was quite sudden. So, is this painting valuable?
- Yes.
The composition’s all off, but...
Sefton Bellamy’s work is all the rage right now.
- Interesting.
(rhythmic ballroom music)
(indistinct chatter)
- A nice change from being an unescorted woman
at these events. People talk.
- Is Miss Hobbs a regular on the Toronto social scene?
- She’s actually a bit of a shut-in.
Always has been.
She never talked to anybody at school
unless it was regarding our studies,
and her father’s man would collect her
right after classes.
- Hm. Perhaps this is her way of spreading her wings.
- Miss Newsome! Detective Murdoch.
Might I introduce you to Anais Talbot.
- Roy has talked so much about you.
Quite a phenomenon, aren’t you?
- Oh. Thank you. That’s lovely.
- You’re trying the Miller case. It’s all in the news.
He jokes that you’re out for his job.
- Hm. Ha-ha. Well, it’s not a joke.
It’s exactly what I’m after.
- Would you please excuse us? - Ha.
- Remember the mission. We are looking for information
on the Mortons. - Mm-hmm.
- Effie Newsome!
Oh! It’s Hallie. - Oh!
- I don’t think any of our other school chums made it.
- Well, it’s their loss. This is quite the soirée. Huh.
- And you’ve come with Detective Murdoch.
- Hello. Mm... - Mm.
- Apologies for talking business,
but do you know anyone here who may have known the Mortons?
For the investigation. - Oh, well. Um, let me-- Oh!
Let me introduce you to Mrs. Willoughby, our neighbour.
- Hello. Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary
and Crown Attorney Effie Newsome.
- Ah! As Carmen and Escamillo,
a fiery and tragic couple.
- But, uh, work colleagues, in reality.
- Mm, of course. - If you’ll excuse me,
I should check on my father.
Detective Murdoch is looking for information
on the Morton family.
- Why, they used to live right here.
- Yes. Um, how well did you know them?
- Darling, could you get us some drinks, please?
Those boys were rowdy.
Always cavorting with the wrong kind of woman,
throwing money around as though it grew on trees.
- Mm. Um...
What can you tell me about the last days
before the bank took the home back?
- Oh, those two were fighting like something fierce.
- Brotherly rivalry? - They fought everyone.
But Ciarán and Finbarr,
they kept their worst for each other.
- What did you hear of them last?
- Finbarr, he was the younger one,
passed from consumption.
Plenty of weepy women at that funeral.
(chuckling)
- And when was this?
- 1884, if memory serves.
- And Ciarán? - Why, he just up and left
back to Ireland. It was later that same year
when the bank took this place.
One day he was just gone.
Didn’t even say goodbye.
(soft piano music)
- Ne tenu por vi la sekreton
de via koro, mia amiko.
- That sounds like Spanish or Italian.
I don’t recognize it. - Esperanto.
It means, "Do not keep to yourself
the secret of your heart, my friend."
- Rabindranath Tagore.
But I think I prefer the original Bengali.
- Some things do get lost in translation.
- Sorry to interrupt. - Ah.
- I was told I might find you here.
- You found me.
How can I help you, Mr. Germaine?
- Someone contacted me looking to sell
an original Bellamy, portraiture, circa 1886.
- Ah. - He said he’d be in
first thing. - Ah. Very good.
- I’ll, uh, leave you to it.
- He seems cultured.
- It’s about work.
- I wish I could see that part of your life.
It’s so much of who you are.
- I’m-I’m sorry. I should have introduced you.
- No, it’s fine.
(stirring music)
- Look at this.
- That is a misrepresentation of our evening.
- Does this not bother you? You’re a married man!
- Surely this isn’t a reputable news source.
- Well, these days it doesn’t matter
where people read something. They just believe it!
- I will call today and impress upon them
that they must print a retraction.
- I can confidently say this person was a male.
There was a lot of wear to the pubic symphysis,
which could mean he was older.
- Ooh, I have some reason to believe
that this was Ciarán Morton.
But he was only in his late twenties.
- Well, it could be him.
The wear to the joints indicate an individual
who endured hard physical labour.
- Well, I suppose he did work in his family’s warehouses
from an early age.
- If you have a photograph of him,
we could compare it to a facial reconstruction.
- Right. - Hm.
- And the, uh, paper fragment you mentioned on the telephone?
- Right.
I found it amongst the bones. It’s small, but...
- Illegible. Perhaps my infrared camera could help.
- It does look like ink.
Isn’t infrared a better fit for carbon particles?
- Good point. Well, I also have...
My ultraviolet light.
(light whirring) Oh.
- Butterscotch.
- Well done. - This is quite a piece.
Such exquisite form, striking colour.
Who is the artist? - Oh, who knows?
Picked it up in Chinatown for a dime.
- Oh, no. - You!
(suspenseful music)
- Get out of my way!
(grunts)
- A... dime, you said?
Why take the portrait, Mr. Fisher?
Did you recognize Sefton Bellamy’s work?
- I don’t know who this Bellamy is.
I just wanted to take something.
- For the money?
- My life isn’t easy street like it is for them.
- You’re a tradesman. You make an honest living.
- Still not enough to put food on the table for my family.
You telling me that’s right? - What’s right and wrong
isn’t what’s at issue here. You broke the law.
- You see them hosting their big parties,
acting like kings and queens.
I wanted to take something that mattered to them.
(hand thuds on table) Something money can’t buy.
- What you took was a portrait
worth upwards of three hundred dollars.
- Three hundred dollars?
I could’ve fed my kids for three years on that.
- And the criminal code recommends a ten-year sentence
for theft of anything over fifty.
(soft music)
- Sir, it’s a badge of honour to be written up
in the gossip pages, if you ask me.
- I wasn’t asking. - Ruth gets written about
all the time, sir. I sometimes think that she’s trying to.
- Anything else?
- Oh! Yes, sir. The button found with the bones,
it’s from the Sauvageot Haberdashery, established 1886.
Something wrong, sir? - Well, that rules out
the Morton family as suspects, or victims,
since they lost the home to the bank in 1884.
- Hm. - No, whoever died
with those buttons on them has to be connected
to the Hobbs family. - But, sir, they said
that the wall hadn’t been worked on after they moved in.
- Someone’s mistaken. Or... lying.
(chuckles)
- Your actions don’t speak well of this office, Miss Newsome.
- You know full well that that photograph was taken
out of context. I’m sure the editor
will be issuing a retraction. - Of the Tattle? Not likely.
And it seems the damage is already done.
- Well, it’s frightening to think of a world
where cameras become commonplace.
- I look forward to it.
It’ll force people to comport themselves with restraint.
- You have no issue with my capability
as an attorney being thrown into question by mere gossip?
- These days, in the court of public opinion,
your image is more important than your arguments.
You need to be more careful.
(tense music)
- I was very glad to hear the portrait was recovered.
Have I been called in to retrieve it?
- Actually, I had more questions regarding the human remains.
- Have you identified the poor soul?
- Not as yet.
Mr. Donelly, how long have you been with the family?
- I was hired in 1887.
- Miss Hobbs told me that wall was never worked on
since the family moved in.
But I have reason to believe the renovations
took place after 1886.
- Oh, yes. It was quite a process.
Mr. Hobbs wanted to have all the latest conveniences.
That was right when they moved in.
Miss Hobbs was very young.
- But you remember it. - I do.
- And yet you chose not to tell
a member of our constabulary after we found a body.
- I do apologize,
but there were renovations throughout the home
at that time. I-I don’t recall that specific area
in the sitting room being worked on.
- What kind of renovations?
- The radiators, with a boiler,
full plumbing, even electric wiring.
- I’d like you to think very carefully back to that time.
Do you recall anything strange about the family,
the staff, the installations?
- There was a dispute with contractors,
but it was nothing.
- Mm. Tell me. - Our foreman
had a wage conflict with a mason, I think.
Man just didn’t show up for work.
I assisted for a few days,
but we found a replacement soon after.
- Do you recall their names?
- I’m afraid not.
- One more thing, uh...
We found a fragment of paper with the deceased,
and on it was only one word:
butterscotch.
Does that mean anything to you?
- Perhaps it’s an item from a grocery list?
When can I take receipt of the painting?
- When we are finished with it. In the meantime,
you can tell Miss Hobbs that it is safe and sound here with me.
Thank you, Henry. Uh, Mr. Donelly mentioned
a contractor who did the renovations on their home
in 1887. Could you please track him down?
- Right away, sir.
- I’ve noticed something strange about this painting.
Do you see how the light reflects differently
in this area?
- I do.
- It’s because a different varnish has been used.
Also, the brushstrokes seem to have raised the paint.
I believe an alteration
or repair has been done to this area.
- Hm. Do you think it’s hiding something?
- It could be.
Now, if I were to remove the top layer of this area--
- Now, Detective, we can’t just permanently alter
someone’s private property on a loose theory.
- Hm.
Some artists will sketch their subjects with charcoal
prior to laying on any paint.
- So I understand, but what does it matter?
- Perhaps my infrared film
could reveal what this alteration is hiding.
Mm-hmm! Ha-ha!
(jazz singing)
(rhythmic jazz music playing)
- I worry it’s only getting worse,
even with the retraction.
- People read the Tattle to unwind.
No one takes it seriously.
Besides, I know a certain someone
with a subscription.
- Now cancelled, thank you very much.
- Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.
The world will be onto a new scandal tomorrow.
Here’s some more to help you forget about today.
- Mm.
(vocal scatting)
- Did your friend end up helping you
with the case you were working on?
- I wouldn’t call Mr. Germaine a friend, per se.
- Sorry, I speak seven languages.
Sometimes my English is-- - He’s more of a consultant.
And a useful one. We caught the thief.
- You just seemed so familiar.
- He did! It was his laugh.
- Let me introduce you to some friends who are also colleagues.
Serge, this is Miss Violet Hart and Miss Effie Newsome.
- Hi. - Oh! Crown Attorney Newsome?
- Yes. - So many accolades.
The Toronto Gazette called you "a virtuoso in the courtroom."
- Oh. Thank you.
- And your sweetheart, Detective Murdoch,
will he be joining us tonight?
- No. Ah, he-he is not my sweetheart.
- No, no. Of course not. (chuckles)
(gasps)
(curious music)
- Well, it seems the Hobbs family
has erased someone from their history.
- Do you think you can have all the files on the Miller case
sent to my office by lunch? Hoping to get up to date
on the latest by the end of the day.
- I’m perfectly capable
of handling that file myself, thank you.
- Crown Attorney Burke didn’t tell you?
- What?
Excuse me!
- It would seem someone is intent
on sullying your reputation.
You’ve been removed from the case.
(soft tense music)
- This could take some time.
It’s a painstaking process.
- I am enrapt in your meticulousness.
Is there no chance you’ll take off both layers with one stroke?
(chewing loudly)
Oh. Apologies. Just--
There’s no other technological solution?
- No. Just a great deal of focus and effort.
- I see. Well, I was on my way
to help Miss Hart with something.
- Oh. Did she tell you what?
- She did not.
(slurping) Only one way to find out.
Miss Hart.
- Ah, good. You’re here. Hold this.
I’ve been working on this all day,
but four hands make for quicker work.
- What are those? - Spacers to mark depth
and clay in the place of flesh.
- What are we sculpting?
- Hm. Well, I am working on reconstructing the face
in efforts to identify our victim.
- What’s in the box, Miss Hart?
(curious music)
- The victim. - Oh.
- Sir. I tracked down the foreman
who was working on the renovation in 1887.
He was able to give me the name of the worker
who walked off the job. - Very good, Henry.
See what else you can find out.
Are you learning Morse code?
- Ah, yes sir, to talk to machines.
- Henry, who is that woman?
- I’m not sure, sir.
- Excuse me.
- Oh!
- Hello. I’m Detective Murdoch. How can I help you, ma’am?
- My son, Jeb, is in custody for theft.
I am sure it is a misunderstanding.
He would never.
- Y-You’re Jeb Fisher’s mother?
- I am.
(tense music)
- Can you describe your relationship
with the Hobbs family for me, Mrs. Fisher?
- John Hobbs is my father.
- This is your family? - It was.
But Father disowned me shortly after we moved to Toronto.
I was too much for him.
He had a new wife and a new life. Hm.
- When was this? - 1887, in the fall.
- Do you recall anyone around the family
going missing at that time, aside from yourself?
- No, but that was a lifetime ago.
Why are you asking me about this?
(knocking) - Detective. I have Mr. Fisher.
- Jeb!
- Thank you, Henry.
Please have a seat, Mr. Fisher.
Your mother was just telling me
that you are John Hobbs’ grandson.
- I didn’t want to get you in trouble.
- I know.
- I got asked to work on Hobbs’ home,
and I saw this,
and I got so mad they covered Ma up.
I just ripped it off the wall. It was stupid.
- This was nothing but a youthful mistake.
- We’ll see. What can you tell me
about the body that was found?
- All I know is I found him.
- Wh... what are you talking about?
- The remains of an unidentified male
were found in the wall of the sitting room.
- Oh my God. - I’ve determined
that this all occurred when you were still a member
of the household. Did you witness anything?
A heated argument, or a dispute before you left?
- Only between my father and me. I wasn’t paying much attention
to the rest of the household.
- Does the word butterscotch mean anything to you?
That was also found with the remains.
- No. I-I... I don’t have any clue what any of this means.
I’m only here for my son.
You-you say I was erased from that painting.
I wish it had stayed that way.
- From what you describe of her reaction,
I can’t imagine Mrs. Fisher would have wanted
the portrait herself. - I have to agree.
But it is quite a coincidence
that she left the house the same year
that our victim here was killed.
- So not a suspect for the theft,
but perhaps for the murder.
- It would help if we knew the identity
of the dead man. Miss Hart?
- Mm. Should be finished today.
- Very good. I’ll leave you to it.
- Sure do hope someone recognizes this mystery victim.
There weren’t many photographs from the time,
especially if he was a workman, or staff.
Llewellyn, I have a favour to ask of you.
- Another one.
I’m all ears.
- I don’t understand. This person is my half-sister?
- The birth records from Saint John
confirm Edwyna’s story.
- Well, if it’s true, my father must have had
good reason to not tell me about her.
- And you have no memory of Edwyna?
- None whatsoever. I was barely two when she ran off.
- What about you, Mr. Donelly. Surely you remember her.
- I do apologize, Detective,
but I was following Mr. Hobbs’ wishes
to not speak of Edwyna again, and it didn’t seem relevant.
- What was Edwyna like?
- I only started with the family that year.
- Surely she made an impression.
- It was the company she kept that left the impression.
- I-I-I spent a lifetime building ships for the Crown,
for this country.
All those years,
and she brought shame to the family
by cavorting with a criminal!
- Father, you don’t need to get upset. It-it--
- What gives you the right
to nose into my family’s business?
Get out of my house!
- Father, it-it’s all right. Calm down.
- My-- - Calm down.
- My-My little Butterscotch.
She betrayed her own father!
- Of course, Father.
- And you didn’t know that Butterscotch
was Mr. Hobbs’ pet name for his daughter?
- As I said, I did not know her well.
- Right. He also said that Edwyna had been cavorting
with a criminal at that time.
Do you know who that was?
- I believe his name was, uh... Sebastian.
Mr. Hobbs considered him a dangerous influence.
- Do you know what’s happened to this Sebastian?
- I wouldn’t know. Gone the same time as Edwyna.
- Right. Thank you.
Your father’s nickname for you
was found with the victim’s body
and he was killed the same year that you left home.
How do you explain that?
- I can’t.
- You have been less than truthful with me, Mrs. Fisher.
- I didn’t want to complicate things for Jeb.
- This man, Sebastian.
Did he have an altercation with someone in your household?
- No. Why would you think that?
- He was your criminal lover, was he not?
- Ah. Always the same accusations,
untrustworthy, a thief.
- Your father characterized him as such, yes.
- My father objected to him,
not because he was a cheat or whatever lies you’ve heard.
He would not let us marry because Sebastian is a Jew.
He moved to Montreal. I followed him.
And he’s a good, honest man and a good father.
- We’ve attempted to reconstruct the victim’s face,
and I’ll show that to you now.
Tell me if it’s anyone you recognize.
(soft tense music)
- It looks just like him, but...
- Who? - Mr. Edwards.
Father’s manservant.
He took care of Father’s affairs.
I saw him the night I left.
- Tell me about that night.
- I wrote a letter before I left to reason with Father
and I signed it, "Your Butterscotch".
Perhaps what you found.
- And this Mr. Edwards caught you leaving.
- He didn’t try and stop me.
He’d seen how controlling Father was,
he’d seen it my whole life.
He let me go,
and I have been forever grateful to him.
And that’s the last I saw him...
until now.
- If Edwyna wanted to get out so badly,
there’s no telling what she might have done.
- Her story about the father rings true.
I’m inclined to believe it.
- You think Hobbs could have killed Edwards,
could have blamed him for letting Edwyna go?
- It would be difficult to get a truth out of him
that isn’t mixed with delusion.
- Should we bring him in? - No.
I believe he would be more lucid
if his surroundings were familiar.
- Hm. - I’ll go see him at his home.
- Serge! - Hi.
- Look at this little hat I made out of clay.
- How lovely.
- Did we have plans?
- Uh, no.
I honestly didn’t think
I’d come in to find you, but...
- Here I am. - Uh...
I was embarrassed at my mistake last night.
Such a bad impression.
- It was... memorable.
(chuckling)
- Is there anything I can do?
- As a matter of fact...
(crowd laughing, cheering)
- Are you sure this is a good idea?
- Yes, and we have it all planned out.
And we’re set.
Now, just play your part and it will all be over soon.
- Hello. Oh! (chuckling)
You mind if I have one of those?
Oh. Thank you.
(exhaling)
You come here often?
(coughs)
Stop it! He’s bad.
- Llewellyn, look!
That table over there!
I saw a shine of light from this glass.
- What’s going on, Roy? - Excuse me, Detective,
but what are you doing? - It’s a hidden camera.
- You pathetic little man.
If I ever see my face in the Tattle ever again,
I will have your licence.
- Come, Anais.
- Mr. Donelly, I’d like to speak with Mr. Hobbs.
Hello, Mr. Hobbs.
Do you remember me? I’m Detective Murdoch.
I-I don’t wish to upset you again,
but I need to ask you
about the day your daughter Edwyna left home.
- Oh. Butterscotch. - Butterscotch.
She left you a letter. Did you receive it?
- Foolish girl.
I told her you can’t trust those people.
- The letter.
Did Mr. Edwards give you the letter?
- Edwards?
Edwards! I told you to protect her, man.
- Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. She’s gone.
- You let her go? You did it! You did it!
- Yes. - My daughter. My daughter!
- I’m afraid she’s gone, sir. She’s gone to marry Mr. Fisher.
- Oh-ho...
She will bring shame to the family.
I fired you.
I knocked you down and you come back?
You-you’re a fool.
I will beat you to the ground again!
I will beat you to the ground!
- Stop, stop, Mr. Hobbs. - Huh.
- Mr. Hobbs, stop. - Huh.
- Please, sit down. It’s all right.
(exhales deeply)
I’ll, uh, I’ll fetch someone to help you.
(grunts)
(unsettling music)
(grunting)
(muffled shouts)
(muffles screaming)
(tense music)
- Miss Hobbs?
- The constable said he was calling on Detective Murdoch.
- Mm.
Something I can help with?
- I don’t think I can keep it like this.
This person isn’t part of my family.
She betrayed my father. - Yes, but Miss Hobbs,
do you know the reason Edwyna was disowned?
She only desired to be free to live how she wanted.
- She is of flawed moral character.
Look, she raised a thief.
- Her son did make a mistake, but aren’t you curious
to know your own flesh and blood?
- And why would she leave our family?
- Well, she’s out in the bullpen,
if you’d like to ask her yourself.
- I don’t know.
- It was your father who cut all ties
because she wanted to marry a Jewish man.
I know a little about facing that kind of prejudice.
- Are you Jewish? - My parents were.
I myself remain unconvinced as to the existence of any deity.
She’s your sister.
(soft music)
(Higgins): Detective Watts-- - One moment.
(Watts): Well, it’s a start.
What is it, Constable?
- I can’t seem to find Detective Murdoch,
and he hasn’t called in, either.
- Hm.
(grunts)
(spitting)
- Help! (thudding)
Help me!
(muffled): Help! Help!
- Detective Watts. Can I help you?
- Did Detective Murdoch call on Mr. Hobbs last night?
- I saw him in. When I returned from my errands, he had left.
- I’d like to speak to Mr. Hobbs.
(crickets chirping)
(soft mysterious music)
- Mr. Hobbs is particularly tired today,
so I’m not sure what help he might be.
- We won’t keep him long.
(Higgins): What is happening with the lights?
- I am sorry. Yes, our electrical wiring
seems to be having issues.
These contractors are criminally incompetent.
Sir, Detective Watts to see you.
- I’m sorry to bother you, but I have some questions
about Detective Murdoch’s visit last night.
- Where is my painting, man?
- You’ll soon have it.
- Detective, I think something’s going on--
- In a minute, Higgins. - My girls are in that painting,
you know. - Hm. Mm-hmm.
Did the detective give you any indication
where he might be going after speaking to you?
- I saw him last night. That bastard.
- I’m sorry. I told you
Mr. Hobbs isn’t feeling the best.
- I can speak for myself!
That betrayer stood in front of me
and told me what he’d done.
Now, I gave him a proper lashing and he deserved it!
(Donelly): Mr. Hobbs is clearly in a state. You must excuse him.
- What happened last night, Mr. Hobbs?
Where’s Detective Murdoch? - Where he belongs!
I knocked him to the ground.
What gives him the right? This-this is my house!
(suspenseful music)
- Sir?
(thudding)
Safety first.
(exhales)
- Henry! - Detective?
(spitting)
- Mind your swings.
- Sir, you must calm yourself.
He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
- No, let him speak! Did you hurt Detective Murdoch?
Is he injured? - I’m fine, Watts.
- Wha...?
- In spite of someone’s best efforts.
- Mr. Hobbs just said...
Were you inside a wall!?
- I’d still be there, were it not for Henry.
- It was nothing, sir.
- And it wasn’t Mr. Hobbs,
but Mr. Donelly who attacked me.
- You are mistaken, sir.
- There is no way Mr. Hobbs could have done this.
Just like there is no way
he could have put Mr. Edwards in that wall 25 years ago.
- This is madness. - Is it?
(Murdoch): Mr. Hobbs was furious about that letter.
Ed-Edwyna was gone, and his manservant,
who had been so faithful to him,
had betrayed him. And in a fit of rage,
he attacked him and knocked him unconscious.
When Mr. Hobbs believed that I was his old manservant,
he said that he fired him and knocked him to the ground,
but was surprised when Edwards came back.
And those are not the words of a man
who believed he had committed murder.
No. You found Mr. Edwards.
- Huh?
- And you thought him dead.
And in order to protect your employer,
either out of loyalty or ambition,
you put Mr. Edwards in that wall,
you sealed him up, and left him to die.
- No, he was already dead.
I was just hiding what he’d done, I swear!
- Mr. Edwards tried desperately to claw his way out.
But he was alive. The evidence is clear.
- I didn’t know!
- And what of me, last night?
What do you have to say about that?
- To the truth winning out.
- Well, it wouldn’t have happened without the help
of good friends. - Mm-hmm.
- Serge.
- So what did Crown Attorney Burke think
of Davenport’s little scheme?
- I didn’t tell him.
I’m not going to play Roy’s game.
- Mm.
- As long as it’s over.
(Effie clearing throat)
Roy. - Miss Newsome.
- I’m surprised your little lady friend isn’t with you.
- Anais and I aren’t an item anymore.
- Oh. Did she see you for who you truly are?
- I was the one who ended things.
It was her camera in that bag.
Yeah, her cousin works at the Tattle.
- Why didn’t you say something that night?
- To I save her the embarrassment.
But what she did was unforgivable,
even if it was a misguided attempt to help my career.
If I’m to best you...
It’s to be in the appropriate arena.
The courtroom.
(soft music)
(theme music)
Subtitling: difuze