I'm sorry, Miss Darling, but I have to counsel you
- against undergoing this procedure. - Why? It's safe, isn't it?
For the most part, yes.
But there's
always a risk with surgery.
And the size of your chest is not something that needs to be fixed.
There's no reason to take on any risk
- for merely cosmetic purposes. - "Merely"?
Doctor, this is not a whim.
I have considered this at length.
Then perhaps you should consider that
you don't need to alter your body to be a beautiful young woman.
You already are.
I have had to endure the curse
of a large bosom since I was in school.
All my friends have youthful figures.
I will have the same.
What exactly do you mean by risk?
The other doctor assured me
that the procedure was perfectly safe.
It should be, but when we're dealing--
I am willing to do anything for Mirelle's happiness.
What does her mother say?
Her mother died some years ago.
Mirelle's happiness is my obligation now.
I will pay any price to ensure that.
It's not a matter of money, Mr Darling.
There are no guarantees with any kind of surgery,
- especially one involving anaesthetic. - So is it safe or not?
It is as safe as
- any operation. - Then you shall do it.
Murdoch. Where've you been?
- I had some business to attend to. - Well, don't take your hat off.
There's been a fire at a rooming house in the Ward.
Crabtree's down there now. There's a report of a body.
Sir.
Who is it?
There's not enough of you on that side!
- Get that hose in there! - Yes, sir!
The body is burned.
No wallet,
identification or
- calling cards. - It doesn't seem.
Sir, you wouldn't expect a chap living
it, I suppose, in a boarding house like this.
He was a smoker. Likely how the fire started.
Oh, my God.
Sir?
Do you know these people?
That's me.
What?
The boy?
Sir,
does that mean this man is--
It's my father.
All right, thank you.
Sir, why don't you--
- Why don't you sit for a moment? - I'm fine, George.
Have you spoken to the owner of the building?
Uh, no. One of the tenants seems to think he's out of town, sir.
Did any of the neighbours know Mr Murdoch?
I gather he moved in quite recently.
I suppose I should gather his things.
The fire marshal doesn't want us in there just yet, sir.
He says it's too dangerous.
I'll wait at the Station House, then.
Notify me when it's safe to go inside.
Detective? I--
One thing I thought peculiar:
why would your father still be wearing his overcoat
sitting at home for a drink?
When you're intent on drinking, I suppose you don't pay much mind
to removing your overcoat.
William.
I'm so sorry.
Oh. Thank you, but really--
I know the two of you weren't close,
but it's never easy to lose a parent.
I suppose not.
But I haven't found it to be difficult either.
I should notify Jasper.
Julia, I assure you I'm quite all right.
This is your father, William.
I'm sure no one will find it unusual
if you don't finish your paperwork today.
No. But there's no reason to postpone it, either.
Julia, thank you for coming down here
but I assure you, I'm not being cold.
Obviously I'm not happy the man is dead, but
there's nothing I can do for him now.
I'll take care of the coroner's report.
That's not necessary.
- Miss Hart is capable. - Detective Murdoch.
Sir. This duffel,
it's badly burned, but I believe this is the type
they give the men when they're released from the Don.
Harry Murdoch was known to run afoul of the law from time to time.
- What's that? - A stack of handbills.
God, heaven, salvation.
I did not know my father to be a God-fearing man.
Perhaps he found some form of peace at the end of his life.
It doesn't seem to specify any church in particular.
Well, that's odd.
There's another overcoat here.
But he was wearing his.
Why would a man living in such a place as this have two overcoats?
It doesn't fit.
This may not have been his place.
Sir, I spoke to the neighbours again,
no one remembers even seeing the man who rented the room.
Well, perhaps the real tenant was recently released from jail,
and he let Harry use his room
- for a few days while he was out of town. - Without his duffel?
Sir, I hesitate to say it, but it does seem like there is some
malfeasance involved.
The simplest explanation
is that they were two drunks sharing a bottle,
a blaze broke out, and only one woke out of his stupor
in time to escape the fire.
And the other chap is nowhere to be found.
I mean, surely it's a tad suspicious.
It is unusual, but we won't know anything until we find that man.
There is some good news on that front.
The lads have found the building's landlord. They're bringing him
- to the Station House now. - Very good.
Nelson. Nelson was his name.
Is that his Christian name or surname?
I just ask for their money, not their life's story.
When did he first take the room?
Thursday last week. Wednesday maybe. About then.
Where did he come from?
As I say, I don't ask these things.
What did he look like?
Older fellow. 60s maybe.
Grey hair, unkempt. Long hair for a man.
And did he tell you where he'd previously been staying?
You can usually make a guess on that front.
Most of the men I get come from the Don.
We have a name, "Nelson", and a description. But no sign of him yet.
He could know something about your father's death.
He may have been present during the fire.
Well, we need to find him.
Well, sir, even if he does know something,
what would it matter? No crime has been committed.
This was likely the last man that saw your father alive.
You don't want to talk to him?
Frankly, sir, I don't see what good it could do.
Sirs. I've traced the key
to a rooming house on Queen Street.
The landlord there
confirmed that a chap checked in about a week ago
and gave his name as "Harry".
Fine work, George.
I suppose I'll settle his bill and gather his things.
Hello?
Oh, I'm sorry. I--
I'm looking for Harry Murdoch. Does he not live here?
- He did. - What...?
But he telephoned me only yesterday.
He can't have moved on already. Are you a friend of his?
I'm a police detective.
Oh, no.
Has something happened to Harry?
I'm afraid he died yesterday evening.
No.
Well.
This can't be.
We were supposed to see one another,
catch up after all these years.
Had you known him long?
Yes!
I hadn't seen him recently,
but we used to be close.
Oh, I can't believe this. What happened?
There was a fire.
Oh Harry.
Oh, he was such a kind soul.
Wait.
You're a police detective.
You're his son, aren't you?
I am.
William.
- He mentioned me? - Yes, of course. But...
I know you, dear.
Susan Kelly. Don't you remember me?
I even took care of you while he was working, don't you remember?
I don't remember much from that time.
Well, we have to tell everyone. I'm sure he has friends in the city.
Yes, I'm planning a small service
in a day or two at St. Paul's.
You can inquire as to the particulars from the Station House.
Good day, Miss Kelly.
It was difficult to get many details
because of how badly burned the body was.
However, I believe the victim was involved in an altercation.
A fight?
Someone attacked him.
Whether or not he fought back, I can't tell.
What kind of altercation? How severe?
His hyoid bone is broken.
All other evidence has been burned away.
- He was strangled. - Yes.
There was no smoke in his lungs, so
I believe it happened shortly before the fire broke out.
I'm sorry, Detective.
So, we have a murder investigation on our hands.
And this fellow Nelson is our prime suspect.
It would appear that he murdered my father,
then set the building on fire to cover up his actions,
which would explain why he vanished without a trace.
Murdoch. You don't have to do this, you know.
Are you questioning my ability to remain impartial?
No. But it would be more than understandable
- if you wanted to sit this one out. - I don't.
Good man.
I will not be performing the breast reduction on Mirelle Darling.
She is your patient.
I believe the procedure is unnecessary.
It's not unnecessary in the patient's view.
No, but it is in mine.
What would you propose?
We say no,
they go to another hospital and have it done there?
Or a private practice maybe,
to be butchered by some sawbones?
Well, if all doctors of good conscience refuse to do it,
then perhaps the patient will reconsider.
These people have money. They'll get what they want.
And we can provide the best surgeon
and the highest level of safety.
This procedure goes against everything
we're striving to do in this profession.
You may feel that way.
But to deny this operation is to put the patient at greater risk.
- And if something goes wrong? - That won't happen.
You can't be certain of that, that's entirely my point.
That won't happen because you will not be performing the surgery.
If you can't handle the responsibilities of this kind of surgery,
I will undertake it myself.
- Did you find him? Nelson? - Sir, no.
But Station House Two received a report
of a break-in on Markham Street.
The burglar was described as a man
- in his 60s with grey hair. - Could be him.
- I'll inform the detective. - No.
Maybe we should handle this on our own.
We can't be sure it's him yet.
William, thank you for seeing us.
I was so saddened upon hearing about Harry
that I went out straight away and found another of his old friends.
Leonard Vasser.
Detective William Murdoch.
- Pleased. - We were thinking,
it might be nice to do something to honour your father's memory.
- Such as? - Oh,
a gathering of some sort?
A wake? He did love a party.
It's a--
it's a hard thing to lose someone.
all you want to do is
share in whatever memories are left to you.
I believe the funeral will be sufficient.
Had you also known my father a long time, Mr Vasser?
Leonard, please.
I knew your father as long as Susan here.
I shared a drink with him only yesterday.
- What time was that? - It was early. About two o'clock.
He died just a few hours later.
Oh. Lordy, lordy.
Did he seem at all
agitated or anything of the sort?
No, no.
Why would you ask that?
Well, I regret to inform the both of you,
that Harry Murdoch did not die as the result
of an accidental fire.
He was murdered.
- No. - How is that possible?
- He would never-- - Oh!
He was a friend to all he met.
So you knew of no one who may have wished him harm?
- Or held a grudge? - I can't imagine--
You must find out who did this, William.
Yes. In fact, I should see to that presently.
Oh, one more thing.
Do either of you know a man named Nelson
who may have known my father?
No. I can't say that I do.
William.
Pardon the interruption.
Of course. These folks were just--
Dr Julia Ogden. I'm William's wife.
Leonard Vasser. This is Susan Kelly.
Old friends of Harry's.
- I'm so sorry for your loss. - Well, it's been hard,
but Harry would have been so pleased
to see what a wonderful woman his son married.
As I said, I'll send word as soon as arrangements are made.
William, I was just going to suggest lunch.
Perhaps we should invite Leonard and Susan?
It will give you all a chance to reminisce.
I came from the grocer's and I heard someone inside.
I thought it was my nephew Timothy.
But it wasn't Timothy. It was an old man.
His hair was grey? Unkempt?
Exactly. When I saw him, I started screaming.
- And then he ran off? - Once I grabbed hold
of that fireplace poker, he sure did.
I put the fear of God in that old fellow.
I don't doubt it.
- Was anything taken? - Not a thing.
I stopped him in time.
But he did try to get my sideboard.
He was trying to steal your sideboard?
Obviously. He dragged it across the room.
Did you have something valuable in it?
No. It's valuable.
It's a sideboard.
Yes, of course. Do you mind if we have a quick look?
Be my guest.
Excuse me.
This thing is bloody worthless.
I can't believe he wanted to steal this.
Maybe he was trying to get behind it.
Sir.
He wasn't dragging this to look behind it,
he was trying to reach something.
It's a small fortune.
It was a summer storm like I'd never seen
and the rain was just pouring through a hole in the roof.
And your father came over
and went right out through the thunder and the lightning,
and climbed up there and started hammering away.
Well, after a minute or two, the whole thing gave way
and he came tumbling down right into the living room!
Oh!
The man was soaked through. Boy, was he angry.
But once he stopped cursing a blue streak,
he found some wood; he went right back up there again
and patched the thing up. Nothing in the world would have stopped him.
Well, he certainly was stubborn.
Leonard spent a lot of time with us that summer.
- So you knew William as a boy. - I did. I did.
I can't say that I'd have recognised you, William,
but I was around in those days, and
I remember how you admired your father.
Well, that was a long time ago.
Still, he cared for you.
He was so proud you'd become a policeman.
Well, if all of that is true, it wasn't a feeling he shared with me
or my brother.
But the most important thing about my father's death right now
is that his killer be found.
So, if you'll excuse me.
Sirs! I spoke to the woman who owns the house,
she had no idea anything was hidden in the clock.
So, an acquaintance just stopped by and stuck $500 in there?
Well she said the clock was there when she moved in.
So, I went and spoke to Property Records.
I found out that a previous owner was a Mrs Elizabeth Nelson.
"Nelson".
- When did she sell the house? - 1886. But sirs,
I have a feeling the truth stretches back even further than that.
- Why's that? - Sir,
these notes were issued by the First Dominion Bank of Toronto.
Now, they've been closed since 1878.
Nearly 30 years ago.
Right, that's when they were bought out by Toronto Imperial.
So, I went in and had a visit with Imperial.
They said when they took over from First Dominion,
all the Dominion notes were exchanged.
Maybe someone who collected them for the bank decided to keep them.
Usually the bank would destroy the notes.
Presumably, they would track the numbers
to ensure that they didn't buy back the same note twice.
Yes, exactly, sir. That's just what they did. However,
not all the bills were bought back.
- Lost or forgotten presumably. - Here.
This $10 bill was never returned. In fact,
there's a whole sequence of 10s here that are marked as illicit.
These serial numbers are all in sequence.
- Stolen? - Not stolen, sir.
It says here it was used to pay a ransom.
It was a kidnapping. 1870.
A very wealthy family, the Penhursts,
had their infant son taken.
They paid a $2,000 ransom, but
the child was never returned. Never seen again.
And the notes were from the Dominion bank?
Sir, the serial numbers were noted. It's the same money.
Nelson must have been involved.
If he's over 60 now, he would have been a young man in 1870.
He must have hidden the bank notes all these years,
thinking he'd go back to them in case of an emergency.
An emergency as in he killed a man and had to flee?
The house where the money was hidden, where is it?
Markham Street.
"Markham Street".
I was here.
It was the summer I visited my father.
It would have been 1870.
The same year the Penhurst child was taken.
There's no proof that your father had anything to do with it.
He was here and he knew the man that was after the money.
There's no use in pretending otherwise.
My father was involved in that kidnapping.
The kidnapping of a child is a serious crime, William.
How can you be sure your father was involved?
He was staying with a friend that summer.
At the house from the photograph.
And this friend is the man that may have killed him?
I knew him as Danny.
We looked into the previous owner, Elizabeth Nelson,
and she had a son named Daniel.
So he was staying with this man,
and you think he helped him with the kidnapping?
It explains almost everything.
There was money left over from the ransom.
Perhaps Harry wanted it, or
perhaps he was blackmailing Nelson.
You're ready to believe the worst of him.
It could have been merely an altercation between two old friends.
But these were two old friends
who committed a heinous crime together.
You don't know what happened.
The child was never seen again.
I was actually starting to feel something for the man.
Not grief, but something.
He had friends who cared about him.
Perhaps he had some redeeming qualities.
I'm sure he did.
Now he's left me with this.
His only legacy is an obligation to right his wrongs.
Sirs? I've looked into Daniel Nelson.
He's been in and out of the Don Jail for decades.
But nothing more than petty theft or drunken fistfights.
- What about the kidnapping? - That's where it gets interesting, sir.
For the year leading up to the kidnapping,
he worked for the Penhurst family as a gardener.
Now, he was questioned by the police of course,
but exonerated thanks to an alibi.
- How strong was the alibi? - I imagine he had a very good one.
Mr Nelson had an alibi because he had an accomplice:
Harry Murdoch.
Sir, I'm very sorry. It must be difficult
to learn such a thing of your father.
Yes, well, it's too late to bring Harry Murdoch to justice.
Mr Nelson remains at large.
He kidnapped a child over 30 years ago
and, very likely, killed my father.
Well, the lads are combing the streets now
for anybody matching his description.
There must be someone who knows where he's gone.
Just got out of jail, didn't he?
Sir. Less than two weeks ago.
Well, he would have spent time with someone in there.
The surgery was successful.
I'm glad.
I hope you understand why I asked to step aside.
I do. In your situation, I may have done the same.
But I have a hospital to think about.
Procedures that bring in fees and donations
they pay for more than themselves.
They help us save lives.
Well, if this surgery allows for that,
then perhaps the small risk is worth taking.
- Indeed. - Doctor?
The patient is feverish.
- Heart rate? - 105.
And she's having difficulty breathing.
I believe it may be sepsis.
You were a cell mate of Daniel Nelson's?
Yes.
Do you know where he planned to go upon his release?
- He was on the path. - The path?
To salvation.
- He was religious? - He had seen the light.
I had shown him.
- You are a Christian? - I am a Christadelphian.
Repentance is the way to reconciliation with God.
- And Nelson believed this as well? - Of course.
He was in Christ.
Is this part of the teachings of your church?
This is the statement of our faith.
This was the work of my Daniel?
A stack of these was found in his room, yes.
He was spreading the word.
He finally did it, didn't he?
- Did what? - Confess.
So, what did you learn about Daniel Nelson?
His cell mate knew he had secrets
he wanted to confess but didn't know what they were.
I believe he intended to turn himself in for the kidnapping,
and he urged Harry Murdoch to do the same.
That's why your father had one of those pamphlets in his room.
Which would suggest the two of them met
to discuss it prior to him being killed.
Clearly, Harry Murdoch did not want to be saved.
But if Nelson confessed,
then they would both hang.
I believe Harry went to Nelson's apartment that night to kill him,
so that his confession would never be heard.
But Nelson got the better of him, set the place on fire and then fled.
The Constables are searching for him now.
- Nothing yet. - We'll find him.
Your father will get justice.
I don't know that he deserves it.
Everyone does.
He kidnapped a child, sir,
a child that is likely dead,
and evaded punishment his entire life.
Where is the justice in that?
You need to try to find a way to forgive him.
Why would I want to do that?
My father was no saint, Murdoch.
But I choose to remember the good things about him.
You should try and do the same.
Sir, I am not going to trick myself
into having sympathy for an awful man
simply so that I can have peace of mind.
No, but you'll wind up there eventually.
How do you know?
Because you did with your father?
Or because you hope your son will with you?
What are you suggesting?
A man who turns his back on his family
can't simply return on a whim
and expect to find forgiveness conveniently waiting for him.
I think you'd best get out of my office
before you say any more.
- You're angry. - What if I am?
Well, that anger comes from the fact that you cared about him.
I had simply hoped for better.
You hadn't seen the man for 10 years.
There's no reason to hope he'd changed.
That's not entirely true.
You'd spoken to him?
He sent me a telegram the day before he died.
What? What did it say?
That he wanted to speak to me.
What about, I don't know.
Then you thought he might have changed.
I allowed myself to entertain the possibility.
I thought that maybe he wanted to apologise,
- or at the very least reconcile. - Well, perhaps he did.
Well, he may have considered it.
But instead of meeting with his son,
he drank the day away with an old friend,
then went off to kill another man.
He was--
He was my father.
But he was worthless until his last breath.
Of course I'm angry.
I'm angry and ashamed.
Harry Murdoch died attempting to kill a man.
No.
Not Harry! He would never--
What do you recall about the summer of 1870?
That was the summer I visited.
That's right.
Come to think of it, he wasn't around much that year.
I figured he was taking care of you.
In fact, he may have been spending much of his time
with a man named Daniel Nelson.
You've mentioned him before. Who was this man?
A criminal.
Someone who arranged a kidnapping.
Dear God.
You think that he's the one that killed Harry?
Likely in self defence.
Well, you must find him. You must to bring him to justice.
It's your duty.
Sir.
The lads have found something.
- Over there. - Right. Thank you.
- Mr Nelson is here? - Sir, the minister says
he's been here the last two days.
Hello.
Detective William Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary. Are you Daniel Nelson?
William.
You've come. I'm so glad.
- You're glad the police are here? - Of course.
The time has come for me to confess.
I am a murderer.
It was the summer of 1870.
We thought it would be easy.
I'd been working for a rich family. I knew the house.
We'd take the child; we'd get the money,
and the child would be returned.
But it wasn't.
When we went to retrieve the money,
we left the infant alone.
One of us was supposed to stay to look after him, but
we didn't trust one another.
- What happened? - We gave him pillows and a blanket.
That's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?
But when we came back,
the blanket was over his face. He was dead.
It was our fault.
Our greed had made us killers.
Never in my life did I feel whole after that day.
But you already had the money.
I could never bring myself to spend my share.
It was tainted with blood.
So I hid it away. I thought maybe one day,
my guilt would fade. But no.
You did eventually go back for it, though.
To return it, along with my confession.
Harry Murdoch spent his share.
I imagine so, yes.
He didn't carry the same guilt.
Of course he did.
He may have spent his money,
but it tortured him nonetheless.
I saw no evidence of that.
He wore it on him every day.
I don't believe he'd once been drunk
before that day.
At least his pain is gone now,
even if his soul remains unclean.
You urged him to confess.
He wasn't ready. He was open to the possibility.
If he'd only had a little longer,
his confession would have meant even more than mine.
He was the only one who knew where the body was buried.
Ahem. So, Harry Murdoch
did not want to confess.
And he wanted to stop you from doing the same.
No. No. No, Harry didn't want to stop me.
Then why did you kill him?
Detective.
I stand here before you
and God himself
ready to confess all of my sins.
I am responsible for only one death: the child.
I did not kill your father.
He shouldn't have done it.
Who?
Forbes.
I told him!
It wasn't his fault.
I was there every step of the way. He did all he could.
He shouldn't have done it at all.
It's his job.
- It's our job. - It's our job to help people,
not to put them at risk.
He kills this poor girl and goes about his day?
There should be consequences!
People come here for all sorts of reasons, Doctor.
We can't control those reasons,
we can't pick and choose.
All we can do is good work
inside these walls.
You can blame Dr Forbes if you like,
but he did his best.
So, do we have our killer?
Yes, sir.
I believe we do.
Thank you for coming in.
I thought you would both like to know
that my father's killer has been caught.
Oh, thank the Lord.
At least Harry will be laid to rest with some measure of peace.
And I've decided to take your advice, Miss Kelly.
- Oh? - I don't believe my father
would have wanted a formal burial.
He hadn't been a God-fearing man in quite some time.
He tried. On occasion.
I believe he would have preferred the words of his friends
over that of a priest's.
So, if you'll join me,
I'd like to scatter his ashes.
If you think that's what he would have wanted.
Where are we going, William?
Here.
My father often spoke of this place.
He certainly did recently.
Well, it's not much to speak of if I'm honest.
It's where he would have wanted us to do this.
There's only one thing about my father's death
that still doesn't add up.
Mr Nelson was going to return his share of the ransom money.
But it wasn't half. It was a quarter.
So?
What does that suggest to you?
- I haven't the slightest idea. - It suggests to me
that four people were involved in the kidnapping:
Mr Nelson, Harry Murdoch, and two others.
What of it? It could have been anyone.
It happened 30 years ago.
I think you're getting ahead of yourself, William.
Daniel Nelson couldn't be trusted.
Oh?
So you did know him?
Only yesterday, you told me you didn't.
- We don't know him. - Then how do you know he can't be trusted?
It's all right, Susan. We can be honest with William.
The truth is,
we knew Nelson a little bit, only through Harry.
And that was years ago.
The man was deranged,
even back then. He hated us.
We hid the fact because we were concerned.
If he said we have anything to do with his crimes,
it's all in his imagination.
What is it you think he would have said?
What does it matter? The man was a lifelong criminal.
All you have is his word.
No, please,
why don't you illuminate me as to the truth, Mr Vasser,
you met with my father the day that he died.
- What did you discuss? - Nothing.
Old times.
I believe he told you that Mr Nelson intended to confess.
I assumed that Harry Murdoch left that meeting
to take care of business.
But that's not what happened, is it?
- How in the hell should I know? - You know damn well!
Harry went to see Nelson, but not to kill him;
to warn him that the two of you intended to stop him from confessing.
To stop both of them.
- You can't prove a word of this. - No.
But I know it's true.
You pretended to be his friend,
let me believe the worst of my father.
That his last days were spent fixed on murder.
You were going to let me believe it the rest of my life!
We did nothing.
Don't you dare deny it.
I know the truth.
Now, you've done enough to tarnish my father's memory.
It's time he got the justice he deserves.
No. Just don't.
Why do you think I brought you out here,
- to the middle of nowhere? - Stop.
It won't be the two of us left out here to die, William.
You'll die, just like your father.
Trying to be a hero. Except this time,
no one will find the body.
Oi! Stop right there, the pair of you.
You don't understand!
He was trying to kill us. He pulled his gun!
Save your breath for the courtroom, madam.
Mr Darling,
please accept my condolences.
Thank you.
No one could have predicted...
This doctor should never have gone through with it.
This is all his fault.
If he knew that it was dangerous,
he should never have gone through with it!
He should have said something.
Like you did.
Mr Darling, Dr Forbes is one of the best surgeons in the country.
If he loses his position here, nothing will change.
A lesser surgeon will take his place.
More people will die.
My daughter.
I know and I'm so sorry.
You still haven't got anything on us.
Other than the fact you've confessed to killing Harry Murdoch.
You'll get a chance to question
the integrity of Mr. Nelson's testimony in court.
But I suspect a jury will find him
to be a very credible witness.
Especially once his story is corroborated by my father's.
- Your father never said a thing. - No.
He didn't get the chance.
But on the day he died,
my father asked me to meet him here.
He was going to tell me the story.
Show me where the child is buried,
which I suspect is very near to here.
He was going to set things right.
Now he has.
Lads.
Thank you. That was very nice.
Father.
Murdoch.
Sir, I was out of line earlier.
I was speaking of my own experience.
I didn't intend to suggest anything about you.
I think you did.
Maybe.
- But I was wrong. - Not completely.
Sir.
The constables found the remains of the child.
They were right next to the stone wall
where your father wanted to meet you.
Thank you.
I suppose that will give the family some measure of closure.
Sir, I think that kind of resolution is no small thing.
I'm very sorry for your loss.
It's a good thing you did for him, William.
What's that?
He carried his guilt his whole life.
That couldn't be undone.
But you were able to bring it to light.
Only after he'd died.
But he wanted to confess before he died.
That's why he wanted to come and see you.
He'd decided to do the right thing.
And he did sacrifice himself for it.
I suppose I should admire him for that.
If only he'd done it sooner.
Well, he could have walked into any Station House to confess.
He wanted to see you
because you were both seeking the same thing.
Resolution, reconciliation.
And now we'll never have it.
No.
But perhaps the fact that you both wanted it
is enough.
Corrected by DB