- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
A little token of my affection for my favourite Mr. Wednesday.
That's my cue!
Enjoy the routine and don't run off after.
The infamous Star Room.
Not one of our city's finer forms of entertainment.
A good burlesque can be just as entertaining
as a good vaudeville.
If a little suggestive.
Well, this place attracts all sorts.
- Good evening, Doctor. - Inspector.
I'm sorry for dragging you to such a place at this time of night.
Not at all. I've always wondered what it looked like inside.
Not an entirely unlikely venue in which to find a murder.
More unexpected that anyone bothered to tell us about it.
Henry.
Who telephoned the police?
Well, sir...
- I did. - George?
Crabtree!
What the bloody hell are you doing in a place like this?
- Sir... - Higgins.
All right. What did you see?
A couple of pretty girls.
A couple of not so pretty ones.
It's alright Crabtree.
I've been found in worse places than this.
What can you tell us about the incident, George?
Sirs, I can't tell you much of anything.
- Where were you seated? - Here at this table.
How could you not see anything?
You were sitting almost on top of the crime!
Well, Sir, I don't know; it gets loud in here.
Well, this may help explain a few things.
He used a kitchen towel to muffle the gun.
So, he walks in,
wraps the gun in a kitchen towel, shoots the victim, and walks out.
And the victim's dead a few minutes before anyone's even noticed.
Giving the killer ample time to escape.
Anything, Julia?
Yes. A single gunshot wound to the right temple.
I'll conduct a full post-mortem
but I can't imagine the cause of death will change.
- Is it your day off, George? - Doctor, yes.
I'm sorry that the show was so rudely interrupted.
- They say it's quite a spectacle. - Actually, Doctor, it really is...
- Well... - Well.
: Yes.
I believe my work here is done. Gentlemen.
Thank you, Julia.
George... exactly what was happening here an hour ago?
Sir, I believe that's when Miss Nina Bloom was on stage.
Which would explain why no one noticed this. She's...
She's rather the reason why men come here.
You say that as though you've been here more than once.
Let's get started, shall we?
- What would you like me to do? - Go home, Crabtree.
This is still your day off.
- Full of surprises, that one. - Hm.
Ah, you there...
- You found the body, did you? - Yes, I did.
I heard this was a rough place, but I didn't expect this.
And what were you doing prior to finding the body?
I was around the tables, picking up glasses.
- And you didn't see anything? - Nothing.
- Right. Thank you. - This place is full of lowlifes.
Could have been any of them.
And you're certain that you didn't see anyone
take a towel off the bar?
I'm here alone.
You see how crowded it is.
It hardly matters to me what happens to the towels.
Can you identify the victim?
Called himself Gerry.
- A regular? - Last couple of months.
Always sat at the same table. Never caused any trouble.
- Had a bit of an eye for Lydia. - Who?
Miss Lydia Hall.
The redhead.
We didn't see anything.
We were both busy on the stage.
You didn't hear anything resembling a gunshot?
We already told you: no.
I understand you were familiar with the victim, Miss Hall?
No. Not really.
If you withhold the truth from me,
I will be forced to add you to my list of suspects.
Now, the truth, please.
His name was Gerry. He had a room on Sumach Street.
The corner of Sumach and King.
Thank you.
There it is!
Julia.
I am concerned about George
frequenting a place like that on his own.
Perhaps he doesn't wish to spend his free time alone in his room.
Well, the vaudeville, yes.
The arcade, even.
But the Star Room? It just doesn't seem like
the sort of place he would visit.
George has had a difficult year, William.
First Edna, then Emily leaving.
Perhaps he's simply lonely.
Hm...
At any rate, 22 caliber.
I'm afraid there's likely not much else the body can tell us.
Right.
Thank you, Julia.
I think what George needs is a friend.
Someone he can talk to.
- Oh, would you... - Not me, William...
You!
Right.
Ah, here we are, Sir.
Awfully callous of the landlord
to throw out the victim's belongings so soon.
In any case, this must be the crate he was talking about.
George, I thought that you and I
might spend an evening together,
um, outside of work.
Sir, I would enjoy that very much.
Well,
I thought you might be amenable to an evening at Vaudeville.
Sir, to tell you the truth I've gone off vaudeville a bit.
It's too competitive.
All right then,
if not vaudeville, perhaps, uh...
a concert,
or... a lecture!
Yes. The Royal Society of Geologists
is hosting an evening of talks
about tectonics, that's the division of...
Perhaps you could choose an activity, George.
Sir, I don't suppose you'd be up for a night at the burlesque?
I know what you're thinking, sir; some of the
themes are adult in nature,
but it's actually a very clever show, sir.
People often say one thing when they
sort of mean something else. Very cheeky.
Yes, I'm familiar with what burlesque entails, George.
I just...
didn't figure that to be your sort of...
comedy.
Well, sir, to tell you the truth,
it's one of the dancers there.
Miss Nina Bloom. She's... It sounds silly, sir, but she is mesmerizing.
That's her job, George.
Yes, I realize that, sir, but...
it's hard to explain.
- Have you a relationship with this... - Oh, heavens no, sir.
I doubt she knows me from Adam.
I see.
You really need to see her perform to understand, I think.
Yes, well perhaps we'll find an activity
that we could both enjoy, huh?
Ah, here we are.
A birth certificate. From Buffalo.
The victim's full name was Gerald Sloan.
Well, here you are, George. Find out everything you can
about Mr. Sloan from his neighbours, his employer,
and I think you'll find the dancer,
- Miss Lydia Hall, has some insights. - Sir.
All right, George.
It's good, talking, like this. It's quite good.
Hello, Mr. Wednesday!
You do know the show doesn't start until later.
Or are you hoping for a sneak peek?
- Eh, no. That is... - I don't believe I caught your name.
- George Crabtree. - Nina Bloom.
At your service, Constable.
I'm actually here on... official business, Miss Bloom.
And here I thought you'd come to help me with my routine.
Give me a few pointers from a real copper.
Perhaps I'm holding my gun incorrectly.
You are, in fact,
- but I hardly think anybody minds. - Oh no.
This is my craft. I strive for realism.
In fact, I'm having some trouble taming my billy club.
Maybe you can show me your technique?
I am here to investigate a murder.
Lucky me!
You don't act like most people do when the police show up.
- Especially... - In a place like this?
Well, I'm not most people.
And if you haven't noticed, I've taken a bit of a shine to you.
I imagine you're like that with most of your customers.
Heavens, no.
Only the ones I find interesting.
And I think you find me interesting too.
I do.
Take me to dinner tonight.
Miss Bloom, I'm here to speak...
I'm... I'm actually here to speak to Lydia Hall
about Gerald Sloan.
Ah, all business, I see.
Well, she's not here yet.
You're at Station Number... Four?
Yes.
Then that's where I'll telephone you.
- Ahem! When Miss Hall arrives. - Mm-hm!
Then too!
Sir,
The lads have yet to come up with the murder weapon, unfortunately.
They've turned the Star Room upside down but have come up with nothing.
I'm not surprised, George.
- What did you find out about the victim? - Nothing again, sir.
He's unemployed, yet he gave his landlord
six months advance in cash.
- Family? - None on record.
In fact, there seems to be no record of this chap
prior to six months ago, neither here or in Buffalo.
- No, there wouldn't be. - Sir?
The birth certificate is a forgery.
"Gerald Sloan" doesn't exist.
It appears an excursion is in order.
What is it with these Americans?
Plastering their flag over every conceivable surface.
National pride, sir.
I daresay the British aren't much different.
Yes, but our flag is subtle.
- Powerful in its simplicity. - I see.
According to George's directions,
the police station should be somewhere along this block.
Let's hope his mind wasn't on certain other things
when he wrote them down.
Sir,
the instructions say that we are to wait for a Detective Walker
- outside the police station. - Hm...
Murdoch and Brackenreid?
Badges, please.
Follow me.
You want to know about Gerald Sloan. So do a lot of people.
- Oh? - Though it hardly matters now.
The... the truth is, he's not Gerald Sloan.
His real name is Gerry Sachs.
And just why did Sachs feel the need to change his name?
I caught him on a job,
but rather than go to jail, he turned informant
and gave evidence against the head of the enterprise.
Sachs' testimony sent him away.
So I sent Sachs away.
You forged the birth certificate.
In exchange for his testimony, Sachs was given a new identity,
some cash, and a train ticket to a new city.
- He chose Toronto. - He didn't choose anything, we did.
You sent a criminal to my city
without so much as a courtesy call?
Informing you of his whereabouts
would have defeated the purpose, Inspector.
Unbelievable.
I'll be having a word with your superiors about this.
I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. Sachs was a test case.
The Relocation Agreement Tactic.
But since they found him,
I doubt I'll ever get approval to do it again.
Since who found him, Detective?
Just who did Mr. Sachs put in prison?
The founder of the Buffalo chapter of the Black Hand.
Giuseppe Falcone.
You know of him?
If you had bothered to let us know of your plans,
Sachs might still be alive.
At any rate, I imagine the Black Hand are still operating
in spite of Mr. Falcone's incarceration?
We expected his son would take over, Giuseppe Junior.
But we haven't heard a peep out of him for weeks.
- We want to talk to Falcone. - That'll take time to arrange.
Oh, we've got plenty.
Did Mr. Sachs have any next of kin?
A wife and some children.
Oh, may we..?
Better you than me.
- Gerry is really dead? - I'm afraid he is.
We can arrange for his body to be sent back to you from Toronto.
Don't bother.
I'm not about to get stuck with his funeral bill.
I'm not sure you know this, Mrs. Sachs,
but your husband was granted asylum
- in exchange for a testimony. - Oh, I know all about it.
We were packed and ready.
But the bastard up and left without so much
as a never-you- mind and I never heard from him again.
So, you and your children were meant to go with him?
It was part of the deal.
What cold hearted bastard would leave his wife behind
to support three children all on her own?
And yet you never followed.
I would have if I'd known where he'd gone.
Where were you two nights ago?
You're not serious.
I was on a sixteen-hour shift at the Larkin soapworks,
which, thank the Lord, I won't have to do much longer.
Why do you say that?
My husband is dead, Detective.
Now I can finally start over.
Things have quieted down here a little bit.
A murder will do that.
But it is nice not having to fend off groping hands for one night.
The unwanted ones, at least.
Are there many unwanted ones?
I have my regulars.
The bespectacled man, Eamon,
but he's harmless.
There's a couple of Aldermen,
who shall not be named.
And that Joe fellow is the worst, though.
He even gave me his room number at the Monarch Hotel.
At least he's moved on to Lydia now.
So,
are men in the habit of giving you their room numbers?
It happens.
Though there is one in particular I've yet to be offered.
So,
are you in the habit of visiting men in their rooms.
If I so choose.
I see.
Do you think that improper?
Do you think men are the only ones who feel lust or passion?
- No, of course not. - But you think they're the only ones
- allowed to act on it. - I don't know. I don't know
- it's proper that a young woman... - If you cared all that much
about propriety you wouldn't be here.
Nina...
Excuse me, squire.
I'll have a beer and I'll take the chicken please.
Ugh, all out.
Well then, I'll take whatever you've got.
I'm sorry, sir, the kitchen has no food left.
Bollocks.
What kind of restaurant has no food?
You are welcome to come see for yourself.
All we have left is the... Oop!
- refuse from the chicken special. - What refuse?
- The wings. - Inedible.
At this point, I'd eat the bloody feathers. Fry them up.
Oh, but sir, they're just... bone and skin.
You're going to throw them away,
and I'm offering you good money instead.
- Hm, if you're sure. - Go!
Off you go. All right.
Get him a beer!
Mr. Falcone will be at the police station in the morning.
Excellent. Care to join me?
- What is that? - Dinner.
I've put some of this spicy sauce on them.
Try one.
- No, thank you. - Your loss.
I'll tell you, Murdoch,
these chicken wings are the only good thing about Buffalo.
Will you look at that.
The Canadians are eating our garbage.
Ahem.
I can move the screen if you'd like.
I'm terribly sorry.
I can come back at another time.
Why are you in here, George?
I was...
I was looking for Lydia Hall.
I don't think that's really why.
I know what you want.
I see how you look at me when I'm on stage.
I...
Mm...
Perhaps I misjudged.
Hm!
Perhaps I did not.
- Is that your bag? - It's Lydia's.
What did that girl get herself into?
I have to go. I should bring this down to the station.
At this hour? I doubt anyone will be there to see it.
That's probably true, but...
The gun isn't going anywhere, George.
Neither are you.
Thank you.
Mr. Falcone.
I hope you're not here to malign my good name yet again.
- We're not here to talk about the past. - Oh no?
Now I am intrigued.
You knew this man.
Gerry Sachs. Or his more recent name, Gerald Sloan.
He testified against you.
Yes, I know. I was there when it happened.
Gerry Sachs is dead. He was murdered.
It was only a matter of time.
How did you find out Mr. Sachs was in Toronto?
You just told me.
Mr. Falcone, we know you didn't kill Gerry Sachs,
but we have strong evidence that his murder is connected to you.
Who did you order to kill Sachs? Your son?
I didn't order anyone.
But I cannot stop those loyal to me if they wish to defend my honour.
And there are many loyal to me.
Both men and women.
On both sides of the border.
Nina! Nina, what in God's name are you doing?
I'm just wondering why Lydia would need this.
Nina, give me that. Oh God!
This is evidence.
Your fingermarks are gonna be all over it now.
I need to go.
As you wish.
I mean, I really do.
I have to get this down at the station right away.
You know where to find me.
Right.
- Good morning, Crabtree. - Oddly dressed for work.
- Sir, I was at the Star Room. - What, this morning?
Do what you want on your own time.
But I'm not paying you to watch young girls
- prancing around in their skivvies. - Sir!
I found it in the effects
of one of the dancers' costumes. Lydia Hall's.
- Any fingermarks on it? - Yes, sir.
Some of them will turn out to be Nina Bloom's,
but I assure you they were applied long after the murder.
I daren't ask how that happened.
What led you to search the costumes?
Well, I found myself in the ladies' changing room, sir...
Found yourself there, did you?
Why were you in the ladies' change room?
Well, I was interviewing Miss Bloom, you see.
And her answers led you to Miss Hall's costume?
- No, not exactly. - Well then, just what, exactly, George?
- It could be material to the case. - Murdoch.
What do you think he was doing
with a burlesque dancer in her dressing room?
- Oh. I see. - On the job, no less.
You'll want to thank your lucky stars
that your little assignation revealed evidence.
Otherwise we'd be having a much different conversation
- right now, bugalugs. - Sir.
- George, a moment. - Yes, sir.
The Black Hand?
- Back in Toronto? - So it would seem.
You understand how this changes things?
Where is Miss Hall now?
- At the Star Room? - No, sir. She didn't go to work
either last night. I'll... find her.
- Alright, George. - Sir,
I would like to employ the assistance of Miss Bloom.
With your permission.
She could be involved in this.
I truly don't believe she is, sir.
Tread carefully, George.
- Sir. - Crabtree.
Good advice.
A woman like that will most likely eat him alive.
Julia thinks that George is just lonely.
That's one word for it, I suppose.
I'll call Margaret.
Sir?
I'm certain Margaret can find him a
pleasant young lady to take his mind off things.
Oh yes, of course, of course.
Julia and I could host a dinner
- this Saturday evening. - Saturday it is.
Lydia isn't a killer. She's barely a dancer.
All the poor girl wants is to find a husband.
Besides, she was on stage with me the whole time.
I know, Nina. But the gun was in her costume.
She must know something.
About last night...
What about it?
It was enjoyable. I mean, it was beyond...
I mean...
what I mean is we hardly know each other, and...
And what?
- Well, I'm sure you have certain expectations. - Expectations?
Well, I just wanted you to know I am an honourable man.
I don't want to marry you, George!
Well... no, of course not. Not yet.
Not ever.
I hardly even know you.
And besides, I'm not that kind of woman.
- What kind? - The marrying kind.
You shouldn't think so little of yourself.
I sure many men would disregard your past.
I shouldn't care if they did or didn't.
I'm not like Lydia, I don't dance at the burlesque
only to snag a husband.
Why do you then?
Because I enjoy it.
I won't deny myself the things that bring me pleasure,
and that includes you.
If you think less of me because of it, then so be it.
- I don't. - Good.
Then should you want to continue enjoying my company,
I will welcome you. If not, I am happy to part now.
I don't want that.
Then stop questioning the right or wrong of it.
It simply is.
I don't know anything about any black hands or any foreigners.
All I know is you fellows coming around
- is really bad for business. - The sooner we catch who's responsible,
the sooner we will stop coming around.
Look, you're the bartender here.
You know better than anyone what goes on in this place.
Who do you know that has connections
to the Falcone family out of Buffalo?
My new busboy is from Buffalo. Miles Hart.
The same busboy who discovered the body?
- Yes. - Where is he now?
Look at the state of this place.
Not here, obviously.
There might be one more place.
But she would have to be really desperate to hide there.
- Where is that? - Her parents' home. This way.
So, you really believe that...
you can do whatever you want, regardless of the consequences?
- What consequences? - Your reputation.
My reputation is not who I am.
Well I know that but others...
Do you always act the way others expect you to?
- Well I don't know. - What is it you want?
What is it you aspire to, George?
Respectability, I suppose, like anybody else.
So, you grew up expecting to find a girl, marry her,
have a family, and live happily ever after.
- Yes, more or less. - Has it happened?
- No. - Does your life
have less meaning because of it?
Does it make you less of a man?
I don't know. I hope not.
All I'm saying is make your own choice.
Just because you were told life should be a certain way,
doesn't mean it's the only way.
Marry, don't marry, what does it matter?
This is it.
Lydia?
Oh, Nina!
- Miss Hall! Miss Hall! - I didn't say anything.
I didn't say anything, I swear! Please, let me go!
I'm Constable George Crabtree. I'm here to help you.
Let me just get my coat.
Miss Hall if you just take a seat here,
Detective Murdoch will be right with you.
Giltman, fetch the detective.
If you didn't do anything wrong,
then just tell them the truth.
And if I did?
Oh Lydia.
Don't go too hard on her. She's a simple girl really.
Oh, Nina, Detective Murdoch is the fairest man I know.
Listen, I would never have found her without you.
- Thank you for that. - You're welcome.
But before I go, I'd like to claim my reward.
Your reward... ?
- Crabtree!! - Sir!
Miss Bloom. The constabulary thanks you for your services.
Oh I've already been thanked, Inspector.
Now, if you don't mind, we have work to do.
As do I. At the Star Room. New show every week.
Goodbye, George.
Right, you lot, back to work!
- What do you think this is, a bordello? - No, sir.
I'm sure there are files that need filing.
Get up them stairs and keep your bloody head down.
Sir.
This gun was found in your costume.
How did it come to be there?
I don't know!
Miss Hall,
you must realize that, at the moment,
you are in serious trouble.
Obstruction of an investigation, and possibly,
accessory to murder.
Now,
how did the gun come to be amongst your personal effects?
That night, I was on stage.
Afterwards I went straight to my dressing room,
as I always do after my performance, to rest a moment.
I didn't even know what had happened.
Somebody yelled that no one was to leave,
the police were on their way.
That's when he came in...
- Who? - It was all I could do to fight him off.
Miss Hall, who came in?
I can't tell you.
He told me not to.
Miss Hall says a man came into the dressing room
after Mr. Sachs was killed.
So, once he heard the police had been called
and knew he was trapped, he must have followed Miss Hall
into her dressing room, and then hid the weapon in her costume.
A plausible scenario.
What we need now is for her to identify her assailant.
That Hart fellow from Buffalo,
I had Thompson bring him in. He may be our man.
I'll see what I can find out.
We have a suspect.
Now, I would like you to tell me if it's the man you saw
in the dressing room after the murder.
No. No! Absolutely not!
If you can identify him,
he'll be arrested.
And you will no longer be in danger.
Is this the man?
That's the new busboy, Miles; of course it wasn't him.
It was one of the patrons.
Can you describe him?
Young lady, you are trying my patience.
He's been coming around now
for a few weeks. He calls himself Joe.
Thank you.
- You heard all that? - We did.
Silly old girl.
She must be daft to dance in a place like that anyway.
Sir, isn't Giuseppe Italian for Joseph?
You're thinking this Joe fellow could be
- Giuseppe Falcone Junior? - It's a possibility.
Sirs.
If Giuseppe is Joe,
I know where to find him.
Somewhere you'd rather be?
No, sir.
I telephoned from the exchange.
So, if Mr. Falcone Junior is paying the staff to warn him,
he'll be coming out any moment.
Look, Crabtree, I'm glad you're having yourself a bit of fun
with that dancer. She is a looker. But be careful.
Careful, sir?
Women like that are only after one thing.
Look at yourself: nice lad, good prospects.
Not the sort that she usually crosses paths with.
She may be trying to entrap you, George, into marriage.
Sirs, she's not interested in that, she's told me as much.
Of course she did.
Your brain's so addled you can't see the wood for the trees.
With all due respect, it's hardly any of your business.
End it now, Crabtree.
I'm afraid the Inspector is right, George.
- You as well, sir? - Get smart.
You wouldn't want a woman like that raising
your children now, would you?
Considering who raised me,
I wouldn't think it much of a problem, sir.
That's him. I recognize him from the Star Room.
Giuseppe Falcone?
Detective William Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.
We know who you are, and what you've been up to.
- Congratulations. - Don't be smug.
Your father can't help you beat a murder charge from jail, now can he?
Go ahead and charge me.
You can't prove a damn thing.
But it's going to be fun watching you buffoni try.
Sachs deserved every bullet he got.
You were at the Star Room at the time of the murder?
I gave my statement to one of your constables.
Which left out your little sojourn into the dressing room
whereupon you hid the murder weapon.
That's a nice story! Look,
I'm not saying I didn't kill him.
- Then say you did. - Why should I?
This gun was found amongst the dancers' costumes
at the Star Room.
No one's gonna say that's mine.
They don't have to.
- Your fingermarks are on it. - That's all the proof we need.
Wait. Wait.
Yes, that's my gun.
- But I didn't kill anybody. - Right.
No, really!
I was going to.
I mean, I was supposed to do it. Weeks ago.
I just...
I couldn't.
But I'm a Falcone; I had to take the credit.
Even though you didn't do it.
It can still be me, can't it?
Just... without going to jail?
Sir, the bullet did not come from Falcone's gun.
- So he's telling the truth? - It would appear so.
But he was sent here for that purpose.
His father did indeed know that Mr. Sachs was here in Toronto.
So then, who told Falcone Senior?
It was that dancer.
She showed up in Buffalo, mouthing off about Gerry.
- Which dancer was in Buffalo? - You know,
the one who led me on. The... the redhead.
Gerry already had a wife, back in Buffalo,
but he said he wanted to marry me.
- He told you that? - He told me everything.
That he was a thief back in Buffalo,
but he wanted to go straight.
So he changed his name and came here to start over.
I'm afraid that's not quite true.
It is.
He wanted to marry me, only his wife wouldn't let him.
So you decided to go to Buffalo to confront his wife.
I thought that if I could show her that Gerry was lost to her, that...
she would let him go.
And what did Mrs. Sachs say to you?
She wanted a divorce.
She even had a new beau. Only, she didn't know where Gerry was.
- So you told her. - Of course!
I told Gerry that everything was worked out.
He was so mad at me, I never understood why.
Gerry Sachs was given a new identity
in exchange for his testimony against a powerful criminal.
What?
His family was to join him, but he abandoned them instead.
He was never going to marry me, was he?
He lied to me.
About everything.
Oh my God.
I told them where Gerry was!
He was killed because of me. It was all my fault!
I ju... I just wanted a husband.
I just wanted to be able to walk down the street
with my head held high.
Miss Hall told Mrs. Sachs
that her husband was here in Toronto.
Yet Mrs. Sachs told us she had no idea where he was.
Why lie to us? She didn't kill her husband.
The soapworks confirmed that she worked a sixteen-hour shift that day.
- She didn't kill anyone. - Go on.
Well, sir, Mrs. Sachs told Miss Hall
that she had a new beau and that she intended to remarry.
So you think the new beau told Falcone
where Sachs was hiding, expecting him to take care of it.
Which Falcone did by sending his son here.
But Junior didn't do what he was supposed to.
So perhaps this mystery beau decided
to take care of Mr. Sachs himself.
So all we have to do now is find the bugger.
No one in the Star Room saw or heard a thing.
Not even George, who was seated almost on top of the victim.
Why should anyone have noticed anything
if they were so fixated on the stage, as you say?
Only something unexpected would have diverted attention.
But isn't a man walking through a crowded room
with a towel unexpected?
You're sure he's here?
The bartender at the Star Room said he was headed back to Buffalo.
- Let's hope he wasn't lying. - I doubt it.
He succeeded where Junior failed.
Falcone will want to reward him.
Go back to Toronto and leave me alone.
Mrs. Sachs, step aside or you'll be arrested
- for harbouring a fugitive. - There's no one here!
Hold your horses, sunshine! Come here!
Leave him alone! Miles only wanted to give me a better life.
Miles Hart. You are under arrest
- for the murder of Gerry Sachs. - You can't arrest me.
I'm an American citizen.
Extradition papers.
Canada's this way, Mr. Hart.
Ma'am.
George!
This is a nice surprise.
Can you unlace me?
I wasn't expecting to see you tonight.
Aren't you supposed to be out protecting our fine citizenry?
I should tell you that I'm otherwise engaged this evening.
Well, that's quite a face.
Could use some cheering up.
What's wrong?
Tell me.
Nina...
I had words with my Inspector.
About you.
What did he say?
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
A casual evening amongst friends.
That's exactly what George needs
to get his mind off of his burlesque dancer.
William,
it isn't for you to judge
with whom George chooses to spend his time.
I only mean that...
George deserves better.
- You don't even know her. - Her reputation.
Well, consider my reputation. Is that how you would judge me?
So you and the Inspector are delivering
- this poor woman to George? - Oh, she's a fine young lady.
Her father owns a stationery store on Avenue Road.
Oh! We know how much George loves pens!
Right!
William, I can't see how this is a good idea
from any perspective.
Let's make our guests feel welcome, shall we?
We'll head down to the dining room when George appears.
- Oh! - Cheese?
Must be nice to have someone do all the cooking for you.
You should have tasted the abomination
- Thomas made for me last night. - Sir, you didn't.
I did indeed.
Margaret got to enjoy the spicy wings of Buffalo. The boys loved them.
Ugh, ghastly.
- Will Mr. Crabtree be here soon? - I'm sure he will.
But don't make yourself too available.
A good man relishes the challenge...
Ah! That must be the man of the hour now.
Now get to your feet.
Let him see what awaits.
Welcome!
Thank you for the kind invitation, Doctor Ogden.
We're pleased to have you, George.
I hope you don't mind, I brought a guest.
I am so delighted to have been included in your little soirée.
- Crabtree. - Thomas!!
Not again!
Everyone. Meet my new sweetheart,
Miss Nina Bloom.
On an all-new Murdoch...
Julia!
Julia, no!
Don't miss the gripping season finale.
Murdoch Mysteries, next Monday at 8:00 on CBC.
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -