Ripped By mstoll
♪ Nobody knows the trouble I've seen ♪
- ♪ Nobody knows but Jesus ♪ - [Indistinct arguing]
♪ Nobody knows the trouble I've seen ♪
♪ Glory hallelujah ♪ ♪
[Intro to "Careless Love" playing]
♪ Love, oh, love, oh, careless love ♪
♪ Oh, it's love ♪
♪ Oh, love, oh, careless love ♪
♪ You see what careless love has done ♪
♪ Oh, it's love, oh, love, oh, careless love ♪
♪ You see what careless love has done ♪
[Song ends, cheers]
[Footsteps approach]
[Indistinct conversations]
[Sea gull cries]
What time did you find the body, Mr. O'Shea?
About 6:00 in the morning. As I was finishing my rounds.
Did any of you gentlemen see anything?
[Scoffs] They saw anything, they'd speak up.
Am I right, lads?
- Sir? - What have you, George?
I believe our victim was this man, Nathan Peters.
He's the founder
of the Canadian Jubilee Singers and Imperial Orchestra.
His wife reported him missing this morning.
They're currently performing, sir, at the Grand Theatre.
Quite a popular act.
Most famous for their renditions of traditional plantation songs.
Mr. Peters' wallet is missing.
Robbery gone wrong.
What was a respectable man doing down at the docks
- in the middle of the night? - [Scoffs] Respectable Negro.
That's the laugh of the morning, eh, boys?
A man's been murdered, Mr. O'Shea.
You seem to have an opinion about that.
Just saying that a man need know his place.
If you have something useful to say, say it.
- Otherwise, be quiet. - [Scoffs]
Pleasant bunch.
Hmm.
Pleasant enough to kill.
A renowned Negro bandleader killed at the docklands?
Not a very good advertisement for Toronto the Good.
You made any headway?
The dock workers were not exactly forthcoming.
That lot stick together.
You'll be lucky if you get anything out of them.
[Knock on door]
Gentlemen. Am I interrupting?
BRACKEN REID: Good morning, Doctor.
DR. OGDEN: Inspector.
I'll leave you to it, Murdoch. Keep me posted.
Julia. How are you?
I'm well. [Chuckles] I'm very well, actually.
I can't believe that it's...
MURDOCH: Over?
I know.
But it is.
James Gillies is really dead.
You were right.
No one could have survived
the fall from the bridge, that river... not handcuffed.
I hardly dare to think it.
We're free of him.
[Chuckles softly]
Then I shall enjoy this feeling of well-being.
- MURDOCH: You must. - [Chuckles]
It suits you.
- [Knock on door] - CRABTREE: Sorry, sir.
Mrs. Peters is at the morgue.
[Clears throat] Thank you, George. I'm on my way.
Ozzy Hughes, Detective.
Mr. Hughes. Mrs. Peters. Thank you for coming.
I can do this for you, Chloe.
It is my duty, Ozzy.
[Door closes]
[Sobs]
No.
Mrs. Peters, is this your husband?
This is him.
Who would do this terrible...
MURDOCH: I am so very sorry.
Nathan is a good man.
He's a God-fearing Christian, sir.
He deserves to be treated as such, not...
Why here, Detective?
We've avoided trouble in far more dangerous places than this.
I'll get to work straight away.
If you could escort Mrs. Peters back to the theater,
I'll join you shortly.
Of course. Anything we can do.
CHLOE: [Sobs]
[Breathes deeply] Poor woman.
Not a part of my job that I relish.
[Door closes]
Have you a time of death, Doctor?
Based on Mr. Peters' body temperature,
he died between 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.
And the cause?
DR. GRACE: There was dried blood
around a wound on his left temple.
Not much blood loss.
However, the impact led
to subdural bleeding in his temporal lobe.
That's what killed him.
The wound has a distinctive mark.
An inch and a quarter across, crescent-shaped.
Perhaps the edge of something?
Thank you, Doctor.
♪ Nobody knows the trouble I've seen ♪
♪ Nobody knows but Jesus ♪
♪ Nobody knows the trouble I've seen ♪
♪ Glory hallelujah ♪
- [Trumpet solo] - [Harmonizing]
Thank you, Buddy. That's Nathan's favorite song.
He was listening. I have no doubt.
Should we not cancel the show tonight, Mrs. Peters?
We'll perform in his memory.
Ozzy, will you sing the basso solo in his place?
I'll do my best.
Let's hop to it. We'll run "Sweet Chariot."
Land sakes, do we have to? I know that old song in my sleep.
Just once through, Hattie.
[Sighs]
Detective.
Mr. Hughes. Mrs. Peters.
Please excuse the interruption.
Mrs. Peters, do you have any idea
what your husband was doing down at the dock area last night?
I don't know. He was always so careful.
Hmm.
Was he in the habit of staying out late?
No. Nathan was very particular about his time.
He was always at the hotel
before the doors were locked at night.
And what time was this?
Midnight. To get in or out after that
required the services of the clerk.
You can check with him.
When he wasn't back by morning,
I knew there was something wrong.
[Breathes deeply]
Did you find his trumpet, Detective?
No. No, we didn't, Mrs. Peters.
His death was a senseless act of hatred.
Hush now, Chloe.
Please find who did this, Detective.
I intend to.
[Clears throat]
And you are?
Buddy Duncan.
Mr. Duncan.
Do you have any idea what Mr. Peters was doing
- down at the do... - I'm not the man's keeper.
- Hey, Buddy, relax. - [Huffs]
[Clears throat]
Mr...
Hardy, Detective.
Excuse Buddy. He's pretty cut up about Nathan.
And he's never his best before 3:00.
Oh, I see.
Mr. Hardy,
how long have you been playing with the Jubilee Singers?
Since the beginning. Been playing five years now.
We started in gospel halls in Hamilton.
And Mr. Duncan?
Joined the group year or so ago.
Detective, not to speak ill...
Chloe won't tell you, but Nathan was fond of a game of dice
and not particular about who he played with.
Mm.
Ah.
Constable Crabtree.
Ah, Miss Hamilton. What a... surprise.
Can I help you?
I certainly hope so.
The Constabulary must shut that place down immediately.
What place is this?
They call it the Blind Pig, but a den of iniquity is what it is.
They play the devil's music.
And couples dance in a most unseemly manner.
"Unseemly"?
I haven't seen it with my own eyes, thank the Lord,
but I have it on good report that men and women are...
touching... in public.
Well, Miss Hamilton, it's dancing.
There's going to be some degree of...
HAM I LTON: But it's the way they do it.
I see.
I hardly dare imagine what else goes on in that place.
Licentious music breeds all manner of vice.
It must be stopped before the whole city is infected.
Well, I will consult with the inspector.
Please do that, Constable.
- DR. GRACE: "Licentious music"? - Mm.
I would like to hear that
before the Temperance movement has it silenced.
Dr. Grace, good afternoon.
Detective. I have Mr. Peters' postmortem results.
Oh, thank you.
You're very fetching today, Dr. Grace.
Thank you.
George, I need you to check all of the pawn shops in the area.
See if anyone has brought in a trumpet recently.
Yes, sir.
Thank you.
And William is quite sure that Gillies is dead.
So you and the detective are free to marry at last.
Dr. Ogden?
Leslie.
[Chuckles softly] I wasn't expecting you.
I'm sorry to interrupt.
I'm about to order a mix of shrubs for the house.
- Is that all right? - Yes, of course.
We have not been formally introduced.
My apologies. This is Dr. Emily Grace.
Leslie Garland.
DR. OGDEN: Leslie is Darcy's brother.
Pleased to meet you.
DR. OGDEN: Dr. Grace is the coroner.
What charms must the city morgue hold
to have attracted two such ladies?
Well, you shouldn't think of us as macabre, Mr. Garland.
LESLI E: Ah, far from it.
But I will leave you to your delightful investigations.
I have my own task...
coaxing the Garland garden back from the dead.
A pleasure, Doctors.
I would not take him for a gardener.
Oh, it's just an arrangement while he's in Toronto.
So he's here for some time.
Yes.
I spoke with the hotel clerk, and, as his wife said,
Mr. Peters was not in the habit of late-night outings.
So, what was he doing at the docks last night?
Perhaps the night watchman, Mr. O'Shea,
knows more than he's telling.
Dockers are not known for their racial tolerance, Murdoch...
especially Irish dockers.
O'Shea might need a bit of persuasion
to cough something up.
Well, sir, if you aren't busy, I was hoping you might assist me.
Thought you'd never ask, Murdoch.
[Indistinct conversations, man laughs]
Constabulary's back.
Something happen down here?
You're a funny fella, O'Shea. [Chuckles]
About last night. You see anything unusual?
Yeah.
A Negro looking for trouble where he don't belong.
Maybe he got what he came for.
[Grunts, coughs]
[Breathes deeply]
Having a sense of humor's not against the law.
You there.
That cart... It wasn't there this morning.
It was being used. By working men.
Unloading from the docks over there.
Is it always put away there at night?
Cart activity's a matter for the Constabulary now?
Answer the question.
Yeah, it's left there at night.
So what?
MURDOCH: Inspector?
I find out you were involved in this, it won't go well.
You mark my words, pal.
Sir, the cart's wheel...
It's made tracks leading away from the docks.
Let's see where they lead, Murdoch.
They seem to end here...
and then turn back.
That's blood.
Maybe this was where Peters was killed.
Possibly.
But then why move the body?
[Cheers and applause]
[Intro to "A Hot Time in the Old Town" playing]
BRACKEN REID: What's going on in there?
CARTER: ♪ Well, come on, get you ready,
wear your grand brand-new gown ♪
♪ For there's gonna be a meeting in that good, good old town ♪
♪ Where you know everybody and they all know you ♪
♪ And you got a rabbit's foot to keep away the hoodoo ♪
- ♪ There'll be hot time... ♪ - Bloody hell.
♪... in the old town tonight ♪
♪ My baby, please, oh, please, oh, do not let me fall ♪
♪ You're all mine, and I love you best of all ♪
♪ And you must be my man, or I'll have no man at all ♪
♪ There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight ♪
♪ Yeah ♪
[Giggles]
Thank God for that.
Sir, the band...
Three of them are members of the Jubilee Singers.
Well, if that's an uplifting spiritual,
they're bloody murdering it.
You talk to the band, Murdoch.
I'll find out who owns this place.
CARTER: Hardy, on the next solo, I want to make an adjustment.
You got to keep it going at the chorus.
You come to shut us down?
No, Mr. Duncan.
I must say, this music is quite a departure
from your usual fare.
CARTER: It's all Buddy.
"Take one note, and put two or three to it," he tells us.
That gives us our sound.
Oh. I'll describe it that way to my inspector.
Perhaps he'll gain a greater interest.
Uh, a question... Was Nathan Peters here last night?
- [Indistinct conversations] - I didn't see him.
Nathan had some notion that ragtime degraded Negro music.
HARD Y: But he couldn't stop us, eh, Buddy?
- We on our own time here. - Couldn't stop us anyhow.
Can't be stepping in the way of progress,
not even highfalutin Nathan.
How can you say that after everything he did for you?
Stick to singing, honey.
Don't mess when it don't concern you.
CARTER: [Sighs]
[Ragtime music playing]
Murdoch.
One of our pals from the docks.
[Indistinct talking, groaning]
Evening, gentlemen.
[Dice clack]
MURDOCH: Have any of you seen this man gambling here?
Anyone?
Maybe.
It's hard to tell one from another.
- Right, boys? [Laughs] - [Laughter]
I could shut this place down in a heartbeat and you with it.
All right. He was at the game all week.
Lost more than he won.
- What about last night? - No, he didn't show.
- You sure? - Sure I'm sure.
[Dice clack, rattle]
[Ragtime music continues]
[Song ends, cheers and applause]
BRACKEN REID: So, Nathan Peters gambled here and lost...
though, if the owner's to be believed,
he didn't play last night.
Did the band members give you anything?
No, sir. But I'm quite convinced that they're hiding something.
Mm. Musicians. An odd lot. Follow your nose, Murdoch.
["Maple Leaf Rag" playing, applause]
Oh, not more of this bloody racket.
MURDOCH: Actually, sir, it's quite interesting.
They play three notes
where conventionally there would only be one.
- It creates a... - A pounding bloody headache.
Unless you need me further, I'm off to my bed.
- By the back door. - Good night.
BRACKEN REID: Good night!
One second.
Detective Murdoch. What brings you here?
Dr. Grace.
I believe Nathan Peters was killed out behind this building
and then his body was moved.
- Really? - Yes.
I see this place attracts modernists of all kinds.
MURDOCH: Mr. Garland.
Detective.
Hello there.
- Uh, Leslie Garland... - We've already met.
Taking a break from corpses?
- You've come to the right place. - So it seems.
I heard music like this
in a little place I frequented in New York City.
Such an intoxicating sound.
[Music continues]
Mr. Garland. Doctor.
I bid you good evening.
It's all in the syncopation.
DR. GRACE: Syncopation?
The essence of what you're hearing.
The emphasis on the weaker beat
gives the music its ragged rhythm.
- Thus... - Ragtime.
Exactly, Emily.
A little forward, Mr. Garland.
Aw, look around. Everyone's breaking the rules.
It's what we came to do, is it not?
I was simply curious.
That's an excellent first step.
May I buy you a drink...
...Emily?
[Indistinct conversations]
BRACKEN REID: I'm under pressure from Miss Hamilton
and the Temperance mob to close down the Blind Pig.
I'm of half a mind to do it.
Protecting the city's morals?
Protecting the city's eardrums, more like.
What did you get from those musicians?
I spoke to the clerk, and none of them left the hotel
after midnight on the night of the murder.
So we're no further ahead.
CRABTREE: Sirs?
Nathan Peters' trumpet. His wife confirms it.
I just found it at McGinnis' Pawn Shop.
- Who hocked it, Crabtree? - Mick O'Shea.
Got the bugger!
You rolled Nathan Peters for his wallet and his trumpet!
- Not me! - Teaching him a lesson
- about being uppity, was ya?! - I swear I wasn't!
Only the robbery got out of hand didn't it, eh?!
No!
Peters died, and now you're facing a noose! Come here!
You disgust me, O'Shea.
All right, all right. I pawned the trumpet.
Where's the wallet?!
What wallet?
Come here! Where's the wallet?!
All right! All right.
[Both panting]
I... But I didn't kill him. I swear.
That's a lie!
I found it near the warehouses. You've got to believe me.
- Where? - Uh, tossed in an alley,
behind some crates.
- When was that? - [Groans]
Around, uh... 11:00 that night.
I swear to God I didn't know it was the dead man's.
[Door opens, closes]
[Breathes deeply]
Nathan Peters was killed between 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.
If Mr. O'Shea says
he found the wallet and trumpet at 11:00 p.m.,
the timing just doesn't fit.
That's if he's telling the truth.
Oh, he's telling the truth, Murdoch.
Trust me. [Clicks tongue]
It's like nothing you've ever heard before, George.
The rhythm of the music is altered.
It becomes ragged, so "ragtime."
CRABTREE: Well, if there's no beat,
then how does the band know what to play?
There's still a rhythm. It just becomes more... unexpected.
Oh. Sort of as if the beat were in the background?
Exactly.
You know an awful lot about music, Emily.
DR. GRACE: I'm not without some ability.
Oh. I have a tin ear myself.
But it sounds like you had a lot of fun.
I did. It was so exciting, so modern. [Chuckles]
Detective.
I was just explaining ragtime music to the constable.
Dr. Grace, a question about Nathan Peters.
Yes. How can I help?
I'm confused by the timing of his death.
He died between 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.
Of that, I am certain, Detective.
Yes, but could he have been assaulted earlier?
Perhaps around 11:00 p. M?
- What are you thinking, sir? - Well, George,
what if Mr. Peters' assailant assumed that he was dead
at the time he moved his body?
But he didn't actually die until the early hours of the morning.
Exactly.
The postmortem evidence would support that theory.
But, sir, if that were the case,
if Nathan Peters was assaulted before midnight,
before the hotel doors were locked...
A fellow member of the Jubilee Singers
could be responsible for his death.
We been friends since we were boys, Nathan and I.
Fished in the same river, sang in the same choir.
Why, that's where he met Chloe. [Chuckles softly]
It was Nathan's idea that we form the Singers.
But Nathan is dead.
And now, Mr. Hughes, you are the new leader.
Are you suggesting that I killed my best friend?
Everyone here is now a suspect, Mr. Hughes.
Did Mr. Peters clash with Buddy Duncan? Mr. Hardy?
No man wants to be told by his juniors.
But he tussled most with Buddy.
Buddy wanted to modernize our repertoire.
Said it would improve our audiences.
But Nathan wouldn't allow it.
CRABTREE: Why not?
We're a spiritual group.
My husband had no use for modern music.
But then... ticket sales were waning.
[Sighs] My husband wasn't killed
because we no longer played to full houses, Constable.
Yes, we disagreed about music.
He didn't hear what I hear.
He didn't approve of you playing at the Blind Pig.
[Breathes deeply]
Nathan and me, we were like father and son.
Something I had to break from.
That's just nature taking its course.
Buddy comes across as skittish, but his horn...
It talks smooth as silk stockings.
Skittish and fond of a drink.
Well, his mind gets troubled, Constable.
He needs the oblivion the bottle brings, I guess.
Nathan hiring him was the best thing could happen.
Saved him from his worst excesses.
- So Nathan Peters hired him? - Yes.
Saw his talent and picked him up right away.
But Buddy's no good at being tied...
not the way Nathan wanted.
You're a good friend of Buddy Duncan's.
I look out for him, yes.
So maybe you took care of Nathan Peters to free him.
That's crazy talk.
Last night at the club,
you mentioned what Nathan Peters had done for Buddy Duncan.
What did you mean?
Nathan hired Buddy after what happened in Buffalo.
What was that?
Nothing.
Miss Carter, what happened in Buffalo?
Nothing. That's just where Buddy joined the group is all.
[Door opens]
I have to go. We're rehearsing.
MURDOCH: But as I recall,
you said you knew all of these old numbers in your sleep.
We are planning something new.
I get the impression they're struggling financially, sir.
And they all seem... almost secretive.
I mean, I suppose they feel like outsiders, being Negro.
George, look into the background of the Jubilee Singers.
Anything in particular, sir?
Yes. Look into the night they played Buffalo about a year ago.
Sir.
Ah.
The Jubilee Singers have quite taken leave of their senses.
Well, I thought they were very respectable, Miss Hamilton...
your kind of entertainment.
You cannot rely on anyone these days.
Instead of those charming plantation songs,
they are now performing acts of lewdness.
- Lewdness! - On stage, no less.
Sounds like a matter for the detective to investigate.
[Giggles]
Mr. Peters' assailant likely moved the body
before checking to see if he was, indeed, dead.
DR. OGDEN: Perhaps he or she panicked.
Which would suggest that the killing
was not premeditated but a spontaneous act.
Yes. But what was the motivation?
Could it be unrelated to the Jubilee Singers entirely?
Possibly.
But I know they're hiding something.
George is looking into the group's past now.
HAMILTON: I warn you, Constable.
The good citizens of Toronto will not permit this depravity.
Yes, of course, Miss Hamilton. Of course.
[Sighs]
Allow me to purchase the tickets, William.
HAMILTON: We demand a return to decency...
purity... virtue!
Miss Hamilton hasn't dampened the public's enthusiasm.
- Nor mine. ...lewdness is unacceptable.
[Mid-tempo music playing]
[Giggles]
[Song ends, cheers and applause]
Bravo!
Wonderful.
- They loved it! - Look at you!
- Girl, you were on fire. - [Laughs]
The box-office receipts
have certainly benefited from your new repertoire.
It seems Buddy was right. We can pay some bills now.
Not something your husband would have staged, I presume.
Did you approve, Mrs. Peters?
I always stood by Nathan, Detective.
I gave in to the group's wishes with some reluctance.
And now Buddy Duncan is your new musical director?
It was his idea all along. He was pushing Nathan to try it.
Offers are pouring in.
- [Squeals] - Come on! Let's go.
- Let's go. - CARTER: Come on!
Whether I like it or not, it seems the future is ragtime.
That swirling silk and those flowing movements...
How wonderful to see a woman's body
liberated from the restriction of a corset.
Nathan Peters would be appalled.
And Queen Victoria is no doubt turning in her grave.
I found it very sensuous.
Hmm.
Mr. Peters was clinging to the past,
and Buddy Duncan was pushing for change.
Now he's dead, Buddy wins.
Do you think creative differences
could be a motive for murder?
Buddy murders
so that Hattie Carter can show off her lovely legs?
It seems unlikely.
Passions run high among these artist types.
Yes. Artists do have all the fun.
It doesn't seem fair.
[Giggles]
[Indistinct conversations]
Well, thank you very much for your time.
Sirs,
I have gleaned some information on the Jubilee Singers.
Before they left for England, they played in Buffalo.
This was about a year ago.
It was before their popularity was waning,
- but it seems... - Get on with it, Crabtree.
Sirs. They played the Adelphi Theatre.
It was one night and seemingly uneventful,
except for one strange occurrence.
Near the theater,
a man by the name of Sam Brooks was beaten to death.
- Was he colored? - No, sir, he was quite white.
I just got off the telephone with his widow.
The murderer was never found.
Perhaps the death of Sam Brooks
is the secret the group is trying to hide.
Didn't Mr. Peters hire Buddy Duncan in Buffalo?
He did.
Mr. Duncan, why did you join the Jubilee Singers?
- Uh... - Nathan saw Buddy playing
with a group on the same bill.
He was impressed with his talent.
So he hired him. So, what?
Why doesn't Mr. Duncan answer for himself?
Uh, Buddy's not so good with authority, uh, police and such.
Maybe there's a good reason.
The night that Buddy joined the Jubilee Singers in Buffalo,
a man named Sam Brooks was murdered.
- His killer is still at large. - We know nothing of a killing.
I'm not sure I believe you, Mrs. Peters.
Miss Carter?
Have you something you'd care to add?
Perhaps the Buffalo Police Department
would be interested in Mr. Duncan's sudden departure
the night that Sam Brooks was murdered.
Not Buddy.
We've said all there is to say.
Then you leave me no choice, Miss Carter.
I can't tell you anything.
Then my constables will arrest Mr. Duncan within the hour
and escort him back to Buffalo.
- You can't do that! - I most certainly can.
Constable?
CARTER: Stop!
It's not what you think.
Buddy was ambushed outside the Buffalo theater by a white man.
Did Buddy kill Sam Brooks?
Nathan heard the commotion and came to Buddy's aid.
But it was too late. Brooks lay dead from fighting.
Buddy didn't mean to kill him.
A man has the right to defend himself.
And a Negro man has the same right, sir.
Did everyone in the group know what Mr. Duncan had done?
You don't know what it is to live in black skin, sir.
He's no killer.
It was self-defense.
So you've all harbored him ever since.
Nathan prayed for guidance.
What choice was there?
He rescued Buddy from sure death.
A mob or the courts, they'd both put a noose around his neck.
[Knock on door, door opens]
Sir? Excuse me.
There's someone you have to see here.
Sir, this is Cora Brooks, widow of Sam Brooks.
Tell me where he is, and I won't waste any more of your time.
She's looking for Buddy Duncan, sir.
What business do you have with him?
Why, this... this is our boy.
Buddy Duncan is your child's father.
[Cooing]
I know what it looks like... a white woman with a colored baby.
I don't ask you to understand.
[Baby fussing]
- CRABTREE: Shh, shh, shh, shh... - Buddy was something special,
so alive.
Not like Sam, my husband.
He could be cold and cruel.
- [Fussing continues] - Shh, shh, shh, shh...
Tell me what happened that night in Buffalo, Mrs. Brooks.
Buddy and I, we were...
We were going to run away together.
But Sam figured out what was going on.
He stormed off to the theater.
I was scared he would do harm to Buddy...
kill him and me both.
I hid at my sister's.
But Mr. Brooks never returned home.
I never knew what happened.
I tried to find Buddy. But he was gone.
Did you know you were carrying Buddy's child?
I realized soon after he left.
Did anyone else from the group know about your son?
Yes. I told Mr. Peters.
- When was this? - BROOKS: A few nights ago.
I learned the Jubilee Singers
were back and playing in Toronto.
So I took the train up.
But by the time I got here,
there was no one at the theater but Mr. Peters.
And you told Mr. Peters your story?
Yes.
He was pretty upset about the baby.
And did you see Buddy Duncan?
Mr. Peters told me he'd left the group.
Sent me back to Buffalo without a kind word.
Mrs. Brooks, why have you now returned to Toronto?
I got the telephone call from Constable Crabtree
asking about Sam's murder.
He mentioned Buddy's name.
That's when I realized Mr. Peters lied to me.
Buddy was still in Toronto.
Why would he do that?
Why not tell me Buddy was here?
That night in Buffalo, Nathan Peters hears a fight.
He steps outside
to find Buddy Duncan standing over a dead Sam Brooks.
Mr. Duncan claims self-defense in a racial attack.
Nathan Peters is a good Christian man,
empathetic towards a fellow Negro.
He takes him into the group.
But a year later, he learns the truth from Cora Brooks.
Sam Brooks set upon Buddy Duncan
because the man was having relations with his wife.
Nathan's very upset with Buddy now.
Buddy didn't give him the whole story.
And now that a white woman is looking for him,
the police can't be far behind.
Nathan goes to the Blind Pig to confront him.
Buddy Duncan kills Nathan Peters.
Mrs. Peters? A moment.
[Horse snorts]
Where is Mr. Duncan?
- [Door closes] - I wish we knew.
He's gonna miss the train if he doesn't show soon.
Face it, Hardy, he's taken off on us.
What do you want with Buddy?
I'm here to arrest him
for the murder of your husband, Mrs. Peters.
You're wrong. Buddy's no murderer.
I know he killed Sam Brooks in Buffalo.
Thanks to Hattie's big mouth. That was different.
He was defending himself. That man meant to kill him.
Buddy wouldn't harm Nathan.
His sudden disappearance would suggest otherwise.
What are you doing here, Detective?
He thinks Buddy murdered Nathan.
[Exhales sharply] You're looking at the wrong people.
Why would we harm one of our own?
Mr. Hughes...
why would you kill your best friend?
What are you talking about?
You're under arrest, Mr. Hughes.
Ozzy, what's he saying?
MURDOCH: Your trombone case.
I believe it will match the wound that killed Mr. Peters.
CHLOE: Ozzy?
It was an accident.
[Exhales sharply]
HUGHES: Please, forgive me, Chloe. I...
How could you?
Wait, you don't...
No, you... you can't think I meant to kill him.
No, I...
I saw him outside the theater, talking to a white woman.
BROOKS: We have a child together.
- Please. - No.
HUGHES: And he was upset. So I knew something was up.
I followed him to the Blind Pig.
And then Nathan told me that...
Why, he said Buddy had to leave the band.
So I pleaded with him not to fire Buddy. We needed him.
What's going on with that lady?
But he just wouldn't listen. He kept being his old...
Well, you know how stubborn he was.
Buddy's out the band.
Buddy...
So we argued.
He grabbed me. I lost my balance.
My case must have accidentally swung up and hit him, but...
[Sighs]
...I didn't realize I hit him that hard.
Buddy was our future.
Without him, the Jubilee Singers were finished.
You all know that.
I didn't want Nathan to die.
He was my best friend.
Your best friend?
He was my husband.
And y-you tossed him away like a piece of garbage.
What did you think? No one would ask questions?
He was just a dead Negro no one would care about?
Please forgive me, Chloe.
No.
Never.
[Footsteps approach]
[Door opens]
[Horse neighs]
[Sobs]
Sam Brooks was outraged
that a Negro man was sleeping with his wife.
He attacked, and Buddy Duncan fought back.
Each defending his male pride.
Buddy Duncan may have killed Sam Brooks in self-defense,
but he set in motion a series of tragic events.
Including Cora Brooks and her child.
She seemed determined to find him.
Of course. She's in love with him.
Women in love can be quite tenacious.
Yes, they can.
[Piano playing softly, indistinct conversations]
Where is everyone?
They all left with Buddy and his band.
HAMILTON: I am delighted
to see you enjoying wholesome entertainment, Constable.
Yes, indeed, Miss Hamilton.
I fear it may be a long while before we hear ragtime again.
CRABTREE: Perhaps you and I can take a trip
to one of these Buffalo clubs
I've heard about in the newspaper... or even Chicago.
- [Piano playing ragtime] - George...
it may not be that long after all.
[Notes play]
May I?
Absolutely.
[Ragtime music plays]
To think those hands cut up corpses.
[Chuckles softly] I'm afraid I play poorly.
Good enough for ragtime.
Thank you, Mr. Garland.
It's "Leslie."
[Chuckles]
[Both laugh]
I love it.
That's it.
DR. GRACE: [Chuckles]
["Maple Leaf Rag" playing]
Ripped By mstoll