Murdoch Mysteries (2004) s15e21 Episode Script
Devil Music
1
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
To kill a man
Kill a man
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
To kill a man
Kill a man
I'mma tell you five
ways to kill a man
Can I Would you like another?
Another drink, that is.
Yes, thank you.
- This man is unbelievable.
- Hmm!
Hit him hard and
knock out his lights
I love these lyrics. Thank you.
You always have the best ideas.
Horatio's on in 15 minutes, where is he?
Shh!
Gunshot to the heart
Drown in dark liquor
Knife across the throat
To end him quicker
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
To kill a man
Kill a man
I'mma tell you five
ways to kill a man
Bravo!
- Very nice!
- Thank you.
Thank you kindly.
- Amazing!
- Hmm?
Where's Horatio?
The Imperial Muskoka
Hotel offers canoeing,
fishing, tennis?
Dear Lord! I just want to
laze around and put my feet up.
Yes, which is precisely why
I booked this vacation for us.
A little rest before
the arrival of bébé!
Well, thank you, William.
I just can't decide
whether to take all
or none of these books.
How about a compromise? Bring two.
"The Complete Baby Book."
It's rather ambitious.
George Bernard Shaw
highly recommends it.
Well, then.
Detective William Murdoch.
Oh, hello, sir.
Oh.
Yes, I'll be right there.
William! We have to be
on a train in three hours.
Y yes, this won't
take long, I promise.
Uh Hmm.
At first glance, this man was
on the losing side of a fight.
He was stabbed, beaten, strangled.
Shot through the heart,
drowned in dark liquor
Are you trying to tell
us something, Detective?
I heard about this
exact murder, last night.
But in a song.
I was at the salon last night
and the performer,
curiously named Lead Belly
Wait, Watts. Lead Belly?
Yes, sir. A guitar player
hired to play at my salon.
What salon?
It's a new establishment where patrons
can listen to contemporary music.
Yes. Last night, he sang a song called
"Five Ways to Kill a Man."
- That's the name of a song?
- Hmm.
Those five ways were represented here.
They were indeed.
Interesting.
I also found these on the body.
What are they?
- I have no idea.
- They're reeds.
Once they're added to the mouthpiece
of, say, a saxophone or a clarinet,
they vibrate to create
the horn's unique sound.
Right. And you saw this
man play last night?
I believe he was scheduled
to perform, but never arrived.
If you'll excuse me, I must get started
on this post-mortem before he thaws out.
Ah, yes, thank you, Mrs. Hart.
With me, Detective. I
know the way to the salon.
The entrance to the establishment
is a little tricky to locate,
even in the light of day.
Go down
Moses
Way down in Egypt's land
Tell all pharaohs
Let my people
Go
Hmm! Praise the Lord, Miss Bright!
You're a Christian!
I sang as a child.
Seaview African Baptist,
every Sunday morning,
- back home in Africville.
- Oh! That's my exact story.
Except it was Turner Chapel in Oakville.
Truthfully though, singing those hymns,
that was my favourite
part of going to church.
Hmm!
Then, how can you say what we just
sang doesn't belong in the salon?
Miss Jacobs, it's not about belonging.
- It's about business.
- Hmm.
That rag music that's
so popular right now,
- not for me.
- Oh, no?
So, I won't catch you in the backroom
doing a little cakewalk,
dusting the baseboards?
Go on, you!
Pardon the interruption.
Are you the owner?
Miss Cassiopeia Bright. How
may I help you gentlemen?
Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.
We'd like to ask you some questions
about a saxophone player you
recently hired to play here.
I believe it's this man,
pictured in your flyer?
That's the horn player I
hired to play this week.
- Alto sax, correct?
- Yes.
And did he?
Play here this week?
He played once that Monday
night. And then, ran off.
Ran off?
After we argued about
paying him in advance,
eventually I gave in and
then, he didn't show up
to play his second set.
Why, is he in some sort of trouble?
He was found murdered this morning.
I
assumed he left town.
So, the last time you saw Mister Colman,
the two of you argued over
money and he disappeared.
Was he alone?
He left with Huddie Lead Belly,
my musical act from the same night.
Speak of the devil.
Chérie !
Why are you calling my name?
These gentlemen would
like to speak with you.
If you're all done with me,
I have some things to attend to.
Mister Lead Belly,
what is your relationship
to Horatio Colman?
Who you call Horatio I call Blue.
Well, we go way back.
Travelling, playing juke joints
and weekend dances all over the country.
Why? Where he at?
Well, we regret to inform you
he was found murdered this morning.
Lordy, Lordy!
You were friends?
More like brothers and cousins!
Miss Bright stated that
you were the last person
to see him, Monday night.
Aye, I was here.
Drank some,
went out on the town,
drank a little more.
And the rest of the
night was a mystery to me.
I saw you perform last night,
you sang a remarkable song called
"Five Ways to Kill a Man"?
He thief your girl
from out your bed
You have all the rights
To see him dead
When I shook off my
slumber, yesterday morning,
it was in my head, won't let me go.
Understand something, fellas.
When the muses call, I surely listen.
I just let it out, last night.
Just like that?
Yeah. I've been making up songs
since I was no bigger than a June bug.
And were the muses, as you call them,
explicit about how to
kill a man five ways?
It was like a dream I was
coming out of, you know?
Lots of hazy pictures and such.
Mister Lead Belly,
how did you get your split lip?
I don't know, sir.
Truth is, I was drunker than
Cooter Brown, that night.
Who knows what I did?
I think you know more
than you're saying.
The song's called "Five
Ways to Kill a Man".
- And they're all evidenced on the body.
- Hmm.
According to Mrs. Hart, yes.
And this Lead Belly fellow
wrote the song yesterday morning?
Claims muses spoke it to him.
It's possible the murder
happened before he sang the song.
Then, he dumped the body
before taking the stage.
In broad daylight? Seems risky.
Watts, take this flyer with
the victim's picture on it
and canvass the area where he was found.
Somebody must have seen
him the night he died.
All right. I only wish
I'd seen him perform.
Something nagging you, Murdoch?
I find it difficult to
believe that Mister Belly
Mister Belly?
I admit I'm not quite
sure how to address him.
So, Mister Belly!
Sang a song describing
specifically five different ways
to murder a man in front
of a crowd of 50 people
who could identify him
as the killer of a man
that was found dead the next morning.
It doesn't make any sense.
You said he'd been drinking?
So much so that he doesn't know
how he got back to the salon.
Happens to the best of us.
I'll give you Winston Churchill.
Churchill didn't remember
because he didn't kill anyone!
When you're in the
haze of drink, Murdoch,
anything can happen.
Alcohol can unlock a part of you
that you never even knew existed.
She can be a cruel mistress.
That gives me an idea.
Hmm!
My birthing papers back
in Louisiana say Ledbetter.
But I think "Lead Belly"
has a nicer sound to it.
Well, when you work
in the performing arts,
- it's good to have a catchy name.
- Hmm-hmm.
I know it certainly hasn't
hurt me as an author.
Hold on. You wrote a book?
- Get out of here!
- Oh!
Well, lookie here, Shakespeare.
I duly apologize.
Listen, I'll give you this right now,
but first, you have
to tell me something.
- Sure.
- You're from Louisiana, right?
Born and raised.
So, you know about the Red River?
Have you ever seen the swamp monster?
- Hmm-hmm.
- The rougarou?
I sure have, Crabtree. I sure have.
The bloodsucking creature
with the body of a man
- and head of a wolf!
- Hmm-hmm.
Tell me everything!
Well, back in the day, my mama
He has no recollection of
what happened that night,
because he drank to excess.
Well, it's a possible
case of automatism.
Automatism?
It's rare, but in the grips
of profound intoxication,
one can commit heinous acts
and be completely
unaware of what happened.
I'm hoping that if you hypnotize him,
he will be able to remember
what happened that night.
Well, I will just have
enough time to do that
before we have to leave.
If we miss the train,
then the carriage to the
hotel will not wait for us!
Yes, yes. Mister Belly.
Just call me Lead Belly.
- Mister Lead Belly.
- Hmm-hmm.
This is Doctor Julia Ogden.
She would like to hypnotize
you in the hopes of unlocking
your memories of Monday night.
Hold on, now. Hypnotism?
That sounds like some
Louisiana hoodoo to me.
Well, I assure you, it's perfectly safe
and it should only take a few minutes.
Hmm-hmm.
It's that or a night in our cells.
The choice is yours.
And when you step out of
the salon, what do you see?
It's nighttime.
And there's snow,
like little stars falling to the ground.
And where did you go next?
I don't know.
Place yourself back in that evening.
Does anything come to you?
A lady.
What kind of lady?
She's a lady in the brown bottle.
Lady in the brown bottle?
And there's a bloody rainbow.
Is the lady injured? Is Horatio there?
I see a dog.
What kind of dog?
The craziest dog I ever did see.
A black dog with three heads.
Ooh!
Lordy, this country's cold.
What else? What else do you see?
I don't know.
Ooh, whee!
I think that's all we're going
to get out of him for now.
Bloody rainbow, lady
in the brown bottle,
three-headed dog? What?
- Cerberus, sir.
- Cerber, sir?
Sir, Cerberus!
Sir, Cerberus.
The three-headed dog of the Underworld.
Well, there's something there,
but I couldn't quite unlock it.
He remembers the evening in question,
but just no details.
So, he wasn't completely drunk?
Well, yes and no.
How do you mean, Doctor?
Well, I think we all
know what it feels like
to have one too many drinks before bed.
You may not remember the entire evening,
but there are snatches
of images floating
in your memory the next day.
Then, there are times where
you don't remember anything
from the night at
all. That's never good.
Well, luckily, he does
recall some of that night.
So, what do we do now?
Well, we need to leave for our trip,
but I think if you retraced
his steps from that evening,
the answer may present itself.
I'll wait for you at the door.
He either killed the man himself
or he witnessed it.
Sir, perhaps if you accompanied
Mister Lead Belly as
he retraced his steps
through Toronto that night,
you might help him to remember.
So, you're saying the
best chance we have
is to take the fellow out drinking.
I'm saying that you
should accompany him.
You don't necessarily
need to drink yourself.
Ah, Murdoch, vino veritas.
It's always served me well before,
there's no reason to think that
it won't serve me well tonight.
Enjoy your trip.
Right, Bugalugs: go
and grab the musician,
and get your civvies on.
We have got some investigating to do!
Sir, excellent!
Sometimes, this job
has unforeseen benefits.
We're going to miss the dinner service.
Oh, I'm quite certain
we'll be there in time.
I'm getting hungry!
Perhaps they'll serve
us supper in our rooms.
Well, I hope so!
We'll be fine.
Whoa!
Oh, no!
- William, this can't be happening!
- I Oh!
I am so sorry about that, Mr. and Mrs.
I got a broken wheel and
no supplies to fix it.
So, sit tight,
and I'll be back as soon
as I can with some help.
Wait, wait, wait. You're
just going to leave us?
It's freezing!
Well, it's been colder,
but I'll tell you what.
There's a cabin I use down the road.
It's no Xanadu,
but I have been known to
pen a few ditties in there.
Ditties?
Well, I have written a
song or two in my time.
Right.
Well, thank you, Mister
Sawyer. Thomas Sawyer.
I'll be back.
So, have you seen this man before?
Sure have. He'd never
had a pretzel before!
Liked them so much he bought two.
And this was two nights ago?
Indeed.
Well, he started crowing
about having heaps of cash
burning a hole in his pocket.
So, I set him in the
direction of the Tipsy Ferret.
As good a place as any to
part a man from his money.
- Don't I know it!
- Thank you.
Come on, you two.
Ooh!
Excuse me, did you see
this man, last night?
Hmm-hmm.
Well, this is not the
evening I had in mind.
What's all this?
Unlike an artist,
detectives don't get
to set their own hours.
Have you seen this man last night?
Feel free to make other plans.
I'm sure that the gentleman
you went on that trip with
would love to see you.
You're right, Byron would.
- But I'll be seeing him tomorrow.
- Byron.
I have a lot of friends, Llewellyn.
Variety is the very spice of life
that gives it all its flavour.
You think you can win
me over with poetry?
I did it before.
Oh, come on.
I am here, we're together.
Let me help you with your case.
Remember the horn player that
didn't show up last night?
- Hmm-hmm.
- Turns out he was murdered
- in the same way as that song we heard.
- Oh, God.
I need to find someone
who saw him before he died.
- Exciting!
- Hmm.
- Salud!
- Right.
- Hmm!
- Hmm!
Ah, yes. That's it.
All right, okay, now we're talking.
Oy, what's that?
I don't care for the
taste of suds, too bitter.
Which is why I always carry
a little bit of sugar on me
to sweeten it up.
Sugar! Maybe you are a murderer.
You just murdered a bloody good pint!
Oy, Charlie,
did he pull a stunt like
that the other night?
Nothing that bad, no.
He was too good to drink out
of an open whiskey bottle.
He demanded I open a brand new one.
I don't drink liquor from
a bottle with a broken seal.
I ain't looking to be poisoned!
So, I crack open a new
bottle for his majesty here,
he takes no time
making short work of it,
then when it comes time to pay up,
there's a whole song
and dance about robbed.
I never stiffed a barman in my life.
You call me a liar and I'm fixing
to jerk a knot in your tail.
All right, easy, easy.
Then, what happened?
I threw him out the back door.
All the while, he's
kicking up quite a fuss.
All right, thank you. Let's
go take a look out back.
Hold on a second, I
still expect to be paid.
He left quite a tab, I will
not be put on the hook for it.
Well, well, well. Lookie here.
Praise Marie Laveau!
Wait a minute, sir.
Look.
Charity. That could be evidence.
Didn't pay my You
better watch yourself.
That should cover it, Charlie.
Oh, what a waste.
Sir!
This must be it.
This is what, Crabtree?
Cerberus.
The three-headed dog.
Shall we?
Hello?
Hello?
I knew you'd be back, Aquarius man.
You still have that
protection I gave you?
- Is that what that is?
- Hmm-hmm!
I suppose that proves you
were here, but when?
Close to the witching hour.
I remember, 'cause I could
feel the magic coming off of him
soon as he came through that door.
What time is the witching hour?
About 3 AM, sir.
The neighbours are always
up to some nonsense,
keeping me awake with their parties!
She knows we're coppers.
Come on, lads, this way!
Go!
What is this place?
Take a wild guess, Crabtree.
Cards! Chips! It's a gambling den!
Oy! We can see you. Stand up.
Do you recognize this man?
Uh Yes.
A winner, a few nights ago.
As soon as he walked in, a
fan gave him a dollar to gamble
when I refused to take
his ring as collateral.
Said he was some kind of musician.
All right, all right.
So, he was here and he did
well. What happened next?
Uh, he was winning big, singing songs.
The customers loved it.
But then, he stopped as soon
as another man walked in,
later that night.
Was it this man?
Yes.
Yes, as soon as the winning man saw him,
he started screaming!
Screaming what, exactly?
Uh "You stole my
money!" he kept screaming.
And picked up a bottle to fight him.
He drained it first, which
I appreciated, since liquor
is not cheap.
My kind of fellow.
What did you do?
So, I say, "Out!" I say,
"You want to curse, go on.
But no fighting! Take it outside!"
Through there?
Yes.
Don't go anywhere.
None of this is ringing
any bells to me at all.
Sir, look at this.
Could be dried blood, could be dirt.
It's too dark to see.
So, you're out on the town,
having a good time, having a few drinks.
At some point, you reach for your wallet
and you realize it's been pinched.
That's when your buddy walks in,
you figure he's the one who stole it.
But this, this makes you see red.
And you've got one hell of a temper.
Now, the two of you step
outside to settle it like men,
but your pal, Blue,
he's not in his cups as much as you
and he catches you a good one.
It would explain the split lip.
But you,
you're the type of fella
who gives as good as he gets.
You crack him one to the jaw
and before he can poke you back,
you hit him with this
bottle, killing him.
Fight over, dead friend.
It does add up.
No, I I don't think
that's what happened at all.
How can you be sure?
When you were hypnotized,
you mentioned a brown bottle.
Well
Catch him, go on!
Get after him! Come on, Crabtree!
Stop! Lead Belly! Stop!
Lead Belly!
Crabtree, get the cuffs on him!
Wait, wait, wait! I've been here before.
Sure, you have.
I swear on my mama's life.
I've been at this here
building two nights ago.
Now, if I'm lying, lock me up.
But this building,
I know it.
Sir, we're already here.
Can't hurt to take a look.
All right. Well, you're
keeping an eye on him.
Come on.
Yeah, that's me.
I'm Charity.
Ah, now, do you remember keeping company
with this gentleman over here?
Patched his lip up with a little honey
- and we had some fun.
- Ah!
Felt like Florence Nightingale.
Well, thanks for that, Miss.
And when he arrived, how was he looking?
Was he covered in blood at all?
Hmm, no. A little rumpled,
but that's to be expected
at that time of night.
About what time was that?
Somewhere around 4:30.
He said he won some money playing craps
and couldn't wait to spend it on me.
Then, afterwards, you scrawled your name
on this four-dollar bill
instead of keeping it.
- Why?
- Well,
he stayed until eight in the morning
and paid me handsomely for it.
I knew he probably
wouldn't remember my name,
sauced as he was.
Besides, everyone
deserves a little charity.
Well, thank you for your help.
We'll let you get back to your
- customers.
- Hmm!
Ma'am.
Have a pleasant evening.
Thank you, Inspector and
feel free to swing by anytime you want.
- Sir! Shall we?
- Oh, yes.
Now, come on.
You think I escaped being
gator bait in Lousiana
to swing in White Man's
Heaven for killing someone?
It just don't make no sense.
You may have received
charity at that cathouse,
but that largesse doesn't
extend to Station House Four.
Listen.
Some of us hit the dirt
quicker than others.
But I had nothing to do
with putting Blue in
touch with his Maker.
I'm a musician, I'm not a killer!
Look, we figured out the clue
about the three-headed dog
with a visit to the tarot reader,
so that memory panned out.
We still don't have anything
on the bloody rainbow
or the lady in the brown bottle.
Have you anything else for us?
I don't. I'm sorry.
So am I.
With no evidence, we
can't exonerate you.
I'm afraid it's off to the cells.
Take him away, Crabtree.
Wait, hold on.
Crabtree, I didn't kill nobody!
- I know.
- This makes no sense.
We gotta go back out
there, there's something.
There. That should help.
Thank you, William.
Oh!
Oh!
Julia?
Ooh, they're coming faster, William.
Right, we need to get you out of here.
There's still a horse with the carriage,
I could unhitch it and
ride to the nearest
What? No! You're not going anywhere
Ow!
Based on my analysis
of his stomach contents,
he died around 7, Tuesday morning.
There's a laceration
from blunt force trauma
to the back of the head.
The blow broke a bone
in the base of the skull,
which resulted in spinal fluid
and blood leaking from his nasal cavity.
He looked like he'd been in a fight.
Yes. Blackened eyes and bloody nose
are a result of the spinal cord
being damaged from the blow.
- Good Lord!
- And after he was struck,
he stopped breathing.
Starving his brain of oxygen.
He might have been dead
before he hit the ground.
Poor bugger.
I thought you believed he
died later, Tuesday night.
I did. However, he was found
in an alley on his back.
But when I went to
establish fixed lividity,
the blood had pooled on the
anterior side of his body.
So, he was struck, fell forward,
died and the blood pooled right here.
He was killed somewhere
and dumped in the alley.
Lividity doesn't lie.
So, Lead Belly was telling the truth.
Because he was still donating to charity
when the sun was coming up.
Well, sir, I don't
think it was a donation,
I think they were
Oh, yes, of course!
Well, then, I suppose the question is,
where was Horatio that morning?
I found someone to identify Horatio
and you'll never guess
where he went and when.
Well, don't leave us in suspense, Watts.
The individual who
delivers papers every day
at the exact same time on the same route
remembers seeing Horatio very much alive
around 5 AM Tuesday morning.
Where was he headed?
Back to the salon.
Ah.
Looks like we need to have
a chat with Miss Bright.
Thank you, Mrs. Hart.
Well, it's not the Imperial Muskoka,
but it should do nicely.
Well, at least it's warm.
Oh
Oh
Does it hurt?
William, I've been shot three times,
had rabies, been buried alive.
This is much worse.
Luckily, I'm with the smartest,
most capable man in the country.
I'm going to guide you through the steps
to delivering our baby.
Are you sure that's wise?
Don't worry, William.
I'm a doctor, after all.
Oh!
Sir!
Look at this.
I'll be damned.
It's a bloody rainbow.
This is where Horatio met his maker.
It's definitely blood.
Inspector Brackenreid!
Good morning, Miss Bright.
Thank you, Miss Jacobs.
You can take a little break, now.
What in heavens are you doing here?
I'm afraid your musician
was killed right here.
- That's preposterous.
- Really?
The smell of cordite coming
off this gun says otherwise.
- I've never even fired it.
- Look.
It's missing a bullet.
How do you explain that, Miss Bright?
It's a match.
We pulled this out of Horatio's body.
And your explanation
isn't holding any water.
I've never even pointed
that gun at anyone.
Hmm.
Maybe Horatio turned up at your salon,
having had a few too many.
He's still mad about the
argument that you had over money
and you're not too
pleased that he ran off
without fulfilling his contract.
Now, just maybe he gets a little fresh,
'cause he's still quite sozzled.
But you
Hit him over the head
with a liquor bottle.
And just for good measure, you
put a bullet in him as well.
Over money?
Over some missed performance?
No, Inspector, I am telling
you the truth when I say
I did not see that man again
after exchanging words Monday night.
You must believe me.
Unfortunately for you, Miss Bright,
I believe in evidence.
There's blood in your salon,
the bullet matches your
gun and the timeline fits.
Miss Bright.
I hate to do this,
but I'm arresting you for
the murder of Horatio Colman.
- Constable!
- Wait
- Take her to the cells.
- Wait!
We do have another suspect,
but to be on the safe side,
you should stay in Toronto for now.
Oh, whee!
I don't know, Crabtree.
Before I came in your country,
I heard this place is
called "Toronto the good".
Ain't been no good for me so far.
Well, the inspector is
exercising a great deal
of caution right now. By the way
I brought you this.
Oh, whee!
Stella! Oh, you're looking great.
Now that I've completed
a full post-mortem,
I have a clearer picture of
what happened to Horatio Colman.
Well, carry on, Mrs. Hart.
In spite of the stab wound to his chest,
there was no blood in his lungs.
And while he smelled
strongly of whiskey,
it appeared to have
been poured in his mouth,
but never swallowed.
And the ligatures around the neck?
Applied after the blow.
If you look here, the
skin is rubbed raw,
but there's no blood present.
Because he was already dead.
For several hours or more, I'd hazard.
This man was long dead
before he was shot,
stabbed, choked or drowned in liquor.
As the song says.
So, whoever killed him
hid the body until they could
dump him under cover of darkness?
In the meantime,
they heard "Five Ways to Kill a Man"
and used the four other ways to
redirect attention to the singer.
Lead Belly was being set up.
Right.
Mrs. Hart.
Miss Bright.
Now, where were you between 8 PM
and midnight on Tuesday evening?
My salon.
I was at the show, we watched
Lead Belly perform at 10
and then Ezra and I
went back to his place.
And you left the salon
directly after this show?
We stayed to close up. See patrons off.
And we left at around midnight.
And you were together all night?
His landlady can attest to that.
Thank you, Constable. That'll be all.
Ezra Steele confirms her alibi.
They were together the
entire night at his place.
So, what now?
We're back to square
one, without any suspects.
Who else would have motive to
kill an out-of-town musician?
Well, process of elimination means
it has to be someone who was at
the salon early in the morning,
had access to the gun
and heard the song.
Right, Crabtree.
We need to go back to
the scene of the crime.
Thank you.
Problem's been solved.
I don't know what you're worried about.
What I'm worried about is
any unnecessary attention
from the Toronto
constabulary on my business.
I cleaned up a mess to save
your partner from the noose.
You don't stick your neck
out for anyone but me.
Yes, boss.
And please, don't act
like you did this for me.
There were plenty of other women
you could have been fooling
around with in the city,
but you had to get sweet on this one!
I made a mistake.
Push!
I don't want to do this, William.
You are doing so well, Julia.
But please, keep breathing
and I just need one more push.
One more push.
You did it!
It's a little girl!
What do I do now?
Goodness gracious!
Well, celebrate the moment!
Congratulations!
Let's go home.
Let's say the attack
happened right here.
Horatio's struck from
behind and he falls here.
He's on the ground with
blood pooling all around.
Lead Belly stumbles in after
a late night at the cathouse.
The sun is coming up, he sees the blood.
With the rainbow reflected in it.
But he's still so
drunk that what he sees,
it doesn't really register.
All he wants to do is pass out.
Which he does, in the makeshift bed
Miss Bright set up for him
at the back of the salon.
By the time he wakes up, inspired,
he has no idea he's writing
about his friend's murder.
But how did he not see the killer?
And who could have been in
the same space the whole time
without being noticed?
The lady in the brown bottle.
Well, hello.
The rhythm of the carriage
must be lulling her to sleep.
I'm surprised you aren't asleep
after the night we've had.
Oh, I just can't stop looking at her.
I can't believe she's here.
It's official for you.
You're the daddy to a little girl.
May I hold her?
I just I'd hate to wake her.
- Oh.
- All right.
Ooh
- Make sure you support her head.
- Oh, yes, yes.
- Oh!
- Wouldn't want to break her.
It's not possible.
You could use this
time to read your book.
I know we didn't get all of
the time we thought we would.
You're right, it's a good idea.
There is so much I have to tell you.
Fantastical tales, unbelievable yarns.
Your mother is
asleep.
Once again, your mother
has the right idea.
You killed him and
framed his friend. Why?
- He made me a sinner, sir.
- He did?
He caused me, a good
Christian woman, to fall,
lose my grace in the eyes of my God.
How does a travelling musician
sully a woman as virtuous as you?
I am made of flesh and blood, sir.
And was weak in the face of that
intoxicating music he played.
I gave myself over to
him early Tuesday morning,
in spite of myself.
And that's why you killed him.
I killed him because afterwards,
he threw two dollars at me
like I was a common Delilah.
I barely remember pulling
that bottle from my bag
and striking him.
I didn't mean to kill
him, but he was dead.
And that's when you hid the body.
I dragged his body into the closet.
I knew nobody would look there
until I figured out what to do.
That night, I heard the song.
The Lord provides when you need him.
When the police found the body,
they could lock up another sinner.
And you were fine with
watching an innocent man
hang for a crime that you committed?
Innocent? He's the devil's instrument,
singing about murder.
I would be doing the Lord's work
removing him from this Earth.
That's where you're wrong, young lady.
It's only because you killed his friend
that he was inspired to write that song.
And you, using his words to
commit further indignities
on the body is what led us to you.
No.
I don't believe it.
Sinful ways lead to
righteous punishment.
The Lord works in mysterious ways.
He will forgive me for what
I've done to protect my virtue.
I don't think you'll see
God where you're going.
Ain't no education in the
second kick of a mule, Crabtree.
That's gonna be the last time
I see the inside of a jail.
Well, I tell you what. With your talent,
all I see is a rising star.
You know what? I did get
a song or two out of it.
But I think I'm ready for a
few more happier experiences.
Indeed!
You know, I envy you that you
can write a song just like that.
It takes me forever to write a book!
In any case, I hope we do get to
see each other again, some day.
You know what? Come on
down with me to Louisiana.
You're an author.
If you can write a story, you
sure enough can write a song.
How about I make a trip down
and you can take me to Mardi
Gras? I've always wanted to go.
Man! Fat Tuesday can't come fast enough.
Take care of yourself, Crabtree.
Safe travels, Lead Belly.
You know, I spend most
of my waking life at work,
it's not often that my friends
- get to experience that side of me.
- Hmm.
Thank you for last night, Milo.
Your work is intriguing.
I have a newfound appreciation
for what you do, Llewelyn Watts.
Oh, I dare say, you made my job fun?
Now, are you up for an
evening that doesn't include
a dead body tonight?
Well, as wonderful as that sounds,
I am spending the evening
with Byron, remember?
Yes, of course.
Byron, how could I forget?
I'm here with you now.
What does it matter who
I spend the evening with?
The devil made me do it.
Her eyes, Julia.
I can't stop looking at her little eyes.
Good, I thought that was just me.
Oh!
Have you smelled her head?
I just I can't put her down.
May I hold her now?
Oh
Hmm!
What?
Julia Ogden, you are so beautiful.
Oh!
What I am is sleep-deprived.
I am also deliriously happy.
I can't believe this day has come.
I may be biased, but
I think she's perfect.
Not biased at all. I've never
seen a more perfect baby.
I know!
What should we name her?
I was thinking
Muskoka!
Oh, William, no!
What, think of the
interesting story we could tell
to embarrass her at dinner parties.
I was thinking
Susannah would be lovely.
Oh, I can't think of a better
way to honour my sister, Julia.
That is
Oh
Thank you.
Welcome to the world, Susannah Murdoch.
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
To kill a man
Kill a man
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
To kill a man
Kill a man
I'mma tell you five
ways to kill a man
Can I Would you like another?
Another drink, that is.
Yes, thank you.
- This man is unbelievable.
- Hmm!
Hit him hard and
knock out his lights
I love these lyrics. Thank you.
You always have the best ideas.
Horatio's on in 15 minutes, where is he?
Shh!
Gunshot to the heart
Drown in dark liquor
Knife across the throat
To end him quicker
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
I'mma tell you how
To kill a man
Kill a man
I'mma tell you five
ways to kill a man
Bravo!
- Very nice!
- Thank you.
Thank you kindly.
- Amazing!
- Hmm?
Where's Horatio?
The Imperial Muskoka
Hotel offers canoeing,
fishing, tennis?
Dear Lord! I just want to
laze around and put my feet up.
Yes, which is precisely why
I booked this vacation for us.
A little rest before
the arrival of bébé!
Well, thank you, William.
I just can't decide
whether to take all
or none of these books.
How about a compromise? Bring two.
"The Complete Baby Book."
It's rather ambitious.
George Bernard Shaw
highly recommends it.
Well, then.
Detective William Murdoch.
Oh, hello, sir.
Oh.
Yes, I'll be right there.
William! We have to be
on a train in three hours.
Y yes, this won't
take long, I promise.
Uh Hmm.
At first glance, this man was
on the losing side of a fight.
He was stabbed, beaten, strangled.
Shot through the heart,
drowned in dark liquor
Are you trying to tell
us something, Detective?
I heard about this
exact murder, last night.
But in a song.
I was at the salon last night
and the performer,
curiously named Lead Belly
Wait, Watts. Lead Belly?
Yes, sir. A guitar player
hired to play at my salon.
What salon?
It's a new establishment where patrons
can listen to contemporary music.
Yes. Last night, he sang a song called
"Five Ways to Kill a Man."
- That's the name of a song?
- Hmm.
Those five ways were represented here.
They were indeed.
Interesting.
I also found these on the body.
What are they?
- I have no idea.
- They're reeds.
Once they're added to the mouthpiece
of, say, a saxophone or a clarinet,
they vibrate to create
the horn's unique sound.
Right. And you saw this
man play last night?
I believe he was scheduled
to perform, but never arrived.
If you'll excuse me, I must get started
on this post-mortem before he thaws out.
Ah, yes, thank you, Mrs. Hart.
With me, Detective. I
know the way to the salon.
The entrance to the establishment
is a little tricky to locate,
even in the light of day.
Go down
Moses
Way down in Egypt's land
Tell all pharaohs
Let my people
Go
Hmm! Praise the Lord, Miss Bright!
You're a Christian!
I sang as a child.
Seaview African Baptist,
every Sunday morning,
- back home in Africville.
- Oh! That's my exact story.
Except it was Turner Chapel in Oakville.
Truthfully though, singing those hymns,
that was my favourite
part of going to church.
Hmm!
Then, how can you say what we just
sang doesn't belong in the salon?
Miss Jacobs, it's not about belonging.
- It's about business.
- Hmm.
That rag music that's
so popular right now,
- not for me.
- Oh, no?
So, I won't catch you in the backroom
doing a little cakewalk,
dusting the baseboards?
Go on, you!
Pardon the interruption.
Are you the owner?
Miss Cassiopeia Bright. How
may I help you gentlemen?
Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.
We'd like to ask you some questions
about a saxophone player you
recently hired to play here.
I believe it's this man,
pictured in your flyer?
That's the horn player I
hired to play this week.
- Alto sax, correct?
- Yes.
And did he?
Play here this week?
He played once that Monday
night. And then, ran off.
Ran off?
After we argued about
paying him in advance,
eventually I gave in and
then, he didn't show up
to play his second set.
Why, is he in some sort of trouble?
He was found murdered this morning.
I
assumed he left town.
So, the last time you saw Mister Colman,
the two of you argued over
money and he disappeared.
Was he alone?
He left with Huddie Lead Belly,
my musical act from the same night.
Speak of the devil.
Chérie !
Why are you calling my name?
These gentlemen would
like to speak with you.
If you're all done with me,
I have some things to attend to.
Mister Lead Belly,
what is your relationship
to Horatio Colman?
Who you call Horatio I call Blue.
Well, we go way back.
Travelling, playing juke joints
and weekend dances all over the country.
Why? Where he at?
Well, we regret to inform you
he was found murdered this morning.
Lordy, Lordy!
You were friends?
More like brothers and cousins!
Miss Bright stated that
you were the last person
to see him, Monday night.
Aye, I was here.
Drank some,
went out on the town,
drank a little more.
And the rest of the
night was a mystery to me.
I saw you perform last night,
you sang a remarkable song called
"Five Ways to Kill a Man"?
He thief your girl
from out your bed
You have all the rights
To see him dead
When I shook off my
slumber, yesterday morning,
it was in my head, won't let me go.
Understand something, fellas.
When the muses call, I surely listen.
I just let it out, last night.
Just like that?
Yeah. I've been making up songs
since I was no bigger than a June bug.
And were the muses, as you call them,
explicit about how to
kill a man five ways?
It was like a dream I was
coming out of, you know?
Lots of hazy pictures and such.
Mister Lead Belly,
how did you get your split lip?
I don't know, sir.
Truth is, I was drunker than
Cooter Brown, that night.
Who knows what I did?
I think you know more
than you're saying.
The song's called "Five
Ways to Kill a Man".
- And they're all evidenced on the body.
- Hmm.
According to Mrs. Hart, yes.
And this Lead Belly fellow
wrote the song yesterday morning?
Claims muses spoke it to him.
It's possible the murder
happened before he sang the song.
Then, he dumped the body
before taking the stage.
In broad daylight? Seems risky.
Watts, take this flyer with
the victim's picture on it
and canvass the area where he was found.
Somebody must have seen
him the night he died.
All right. I only wish
I'd seen him perform.
Something nagging you, Murdoch?
I find it difficult to
believe that Mister Belly
Mister Belly?
I admit I'm not quite
sure how to address him.
So, Mister Belly!
Sang a song describing
specifically five different ways
to murder a man in front
of a crowd of 50 people
who could identify him
as the killer of a man
that was found dead the next morning.
It doesn't make any sense.
You said he'd been drinking?
So much so that he doesn't know
how he got back to the salon.
Happens to the best of us.
I'll give you Winston Churchill.
Churchill didn't remember
because he didn't kill anyone!
When you're in the
haze of drink, Murdoch,
anything can happen.
Alcohol can unlock a part of you
that you never even knew existed.
She can be a cruel mistress.
That gives me an idea.
Hmm!
My birthing papers back
in Louisiana say Ledbetter.
But I think "Lead Belly"
has a nicer sound to it.
Well, when you work
in the performing arts,
- it's good to have a catchy name.
- Hmm-hmm.
I know it certainly hasn't
hurt me as an author.
Hold on. You wrote a book?
- Get out of here!
- Oh!
Well, lookie here, Shakespeare.
I duly apologize.
Listen, I'll give you this right now,
but first, you have
to tell me something.
- Sure.
- You're from Louisiana, right?
Born and raised.
So, you know about the Red River?
Have you ever seen the swamp monster?
- Hmm-hmm.
- The rougarou?
I sure have, Crabtree. I sure have.
The bloodsucking creature
with the body of a man
- and head of a wolf!
- Hmm-hmm.
Tell me everything!
Well, back in the day, my mama
He has no recollection of
what happened that night,
because he drank to excess.
Well, it's a possible
case of automatism.
Automatism?
It's rare, but in the grips
of profound intoxication,
one can commit heinous acts
and be completely
unaware of what happened.
I'm hoping that if you hypnotize him,
he will be able to remember
what happened that night.
Well, I will just have
enough time to do that
before we have to leave.
If we miss the train,
then the carriage to the
hotel will not wait for us!
Yes, yes. Mister Belly.
Just call me Lead Belly.
- Mister Lead Belly.
- Hmm-hmm.
This is Doctor Julia Ogden.
She would like to hypnotize
you in the hopes of unlocking
your memories of Monday night.
Hold on, now. Hypnotism?
That sounds like some
Louisiana hoodoo to me.
Well, I assure you, it's perfectly safe
and it should only take a few minutes.
Hmm-hmm.
It's that or a night in our cells.
The choice is yours.
And when you step out of
the salon, what do you see?
It's nighttime.
And there's snow,
like little stars falling to the ground.
And where did you go next?
I don't know.
Place yourself back in that evening.
Does anything come to you?
A lady.
What kind of lady?
She's a lady in the brown bottle.
Lady in the brown bottle?
And there's a bloody rainbow.
Is the lady injured? Is Horatio there?
I see a dog.
What kind of dog?
The craziest dog I ever did see.
A black dog with three heads.
Ooh!
Lordy, this country's cold.
What else? What else do you see?
I don't know.
Ooh, whee!
I think that's all we're going
to get out of him for now.
Bloody rainbow, lady
in the brown bottle,
three-headed dog? What?
- Cerberus, sir.
- Cerber, sir?
Sir, Cerberus!
Sir, Cerberus.
The three-headed dog of the Underworld.
Well, there's something there,
but I couldn't quite unlock it.
He remembers the evening in question,
but just no details.
So, he wasn't completely drunk?
Well, yes and no.
How do you mean, Doctor?
Well, I think we all
know what it feels like
to have one too many drinks before bed.
You may not remember the entire evening,
but there are snatches
of images floating
in your memory the next day.
Then, there are times where
you don't remember anything
from the night at
all. That's never good.
Well, luckily, he does
recall some of that night.
So, what do we do now?
Well, we need to leave for our trip,
but I think if you retraced
his steps from that evening,
the answer may present itself.
I'll wait for you at the door.
He either killed the man himself
or he witnessed it.
Sir, perhaps if you accompanied
Mister Lead Belly as
he retraced his steps
through Toronto that night,
you might help him to remember.
So, you're saying the
best chance we have
is to take the fellow out drinking.
I'm saying that you
should accompany him.
You don't necessarily
need to drink yourself.
Ah, Murdoch, vino veritas.
It's always served me well before,
there's no reason to think that
it won't serve me well tonight.
Enjoy your trip.
Right, Bugalugs: go
and grab the musician,
and get your civvies on.
We have got some investigating to do!
Sir, excellent!
Sometimes, this job
has unforeseen benefits.
We're going to miss the dinner service.
Oh, I'm quite certain
we'll be there in time.
I'm getting hungry!
Perhaps they'll serve
us supper in our rooms.
Well, I hope so!
We'll be fine.
Whoa!
Oh, no!
- William, this can't be happening!
- I Oh!
I am so sorry about that, Mr. and Mrs.
I got a broken wheel and
no supplies to fix it.
So, sit tight,
and I'll be back as soon
as I can with some help.
Wait, wait, wait. You're
just going to leave us?
It's freezing!
Well, it's been colder,
but I'll tell you what.
There's a cabin I use down the road.
It's no Xanadu,
but I have been known to
pen a few ditties in there.
Ditties?
Well, I have written a
song or two in my time.
Right.
Well, thank you, Mister
Sawyer. Thomas Sawyer.
I'll be back.
So, have you seen this man before?
Sure have. He'd never
had a pretzel before!
Liked them so much he bought two.
And this was two nights ago?
Indeed.
Well, he started crowing
about having heaps of cash
burning a hole in his pocket.
So, I set him in the
direction of the Tipsy Ferret.
As good a place as any to
part a man from his money.
- Don't I know it!
- Thank you.
Come on, you two.
Ooh!
Excuse me, did you see
this man, last night?
Hmm-hmm.
Well, this is not the
evening I had in mind.
What's all this?
Unlike an artist,
detectives don't get
to set their own hours.
Have you seen this man last night?
Feel free to make other plans.
I'm sure that the gentleman
you went on that trip with
would love to see you.
You're right, Byron would.
- But I'll be seeing him tomorrow.
- Byron.
I have a lot of friends, Llewellyn.
Variety is the very spice of life
that gives it all its flavour.
You think you can win
me over with poetry?
I did it before.
Oh, come on.
I am here, we're together.
Let me help you with your case.
Remember the horn player that
didn't show up last night?
- Hmm-hmm.
- Turns out he was murdered
- in the same way as that song we heard.
- Oh, God.
I need to find someone
who saw him before he died.
- Exciting!
- Hmm.
- Salud!
- Right.
- Hmm!
- Hmm!
Ah, yes. That's it.
All right, okay, now we're talking.
Oy, what's that?
I don't care for the
taste of suds, too bitter.
Which is why I always carry
a little bit of sugar on me
to sweeten it up.
Sugar! Maybe you are a murderer.
You just murdered a bloody good pint!
Oy, Charlie,
did he pull a stunt like
that the other night?
Nothing that bad, no.
He was too good to drink out
of an open whiskey bottle.
He demanded I open a brand new one.
I don't drink liquor from
a bottle with a broken seal.
I ain't looking to be poisoned!
So, I crack open a new
bottle for his majesty here,
he takes no time
making short work of it,
then when it comes time to pay up,
there's a whole song
and dance about robbed.
I never stiffed a barman in my life.
You call me a liar and I'm fixing
to jerk a knot in your tail.
All right, easy, easy.
Then, what happened?
I threw him out the back door.
All the while, he's
kicking up quite a fuss.
All right, thank you. Let's
go take a look out back.
Hold on a second, I
still expect to be paid.
He left quite a tab, I will
not be put on the hook for it.
Well, well, well. Lookie here.
Praise Marie Laveau!
Wait a minute, sir.
Look.
Charity. That could be evidence.
Didn't pay my You
better watch yourself.
That should cover it, Charlie.
Oh, what a waste.
Sir!
This must be it.
This is what, Crabtree?
Cerberus.
The three-headed dog.
Shall we?
Hello?
Hello?
I knew you'd be back, Aquarius man.
You still have that
protection I gave you?
- Is that what that is?
- Hmm-hmm!
I suppose that proves you
were here, but when?
Close to the witching hour.
I remember, 'cause I could
feel the magic coming off of him
soon as he came through that door.
What time is the witching hour?
About 3 AM, sir.
The neighbours are always
up to some nonsense,
keeping me awake with their parties!
She knows we're coppers.
Come on, lads, this way!
Go!
What is this place?
Take a wild guess, Crabtree.
Cards! Chips! It's a gambling den!
Oy! We can see you. Stand up.
Do you recognize this man?
Uh Yes.
A winner, a few nights ago.
As soon as he walked in, a
fan gave him a dollar to gamble
when I refused to take
his ring as collateral.
Said he was some kind of musician.
All right, all right.
So, he was here and he did
well. What happened next?
Uh, he was winning big, singing songs.
The customers loved it.
But then, he stopped as soon
as another man walked in,
later that night.
Was it this man?
Yes.
Yes, as soon as the winning man saw him,
he started screaming!
Screaming what, exactly?
Uh "You stole my
money!" he kept screaming.
And picked up a bottle to fight him.
He drained it first, which
I appreciated, since liquor
is not cheap.
My kind of fellow.
What did you do?
So, I say, "Out!" I say,
"You want to curse, go on.
But no fighting! Take it outside!"
Through there?
Yes.
Don't go anywhere.
None of this is ringing
any bells to me at all.
Sir, look at this.
Could be dried blood, could be dirt.
It's too dark to see.
So, you're out on the town,
having a good time, having a few drinks.
At some point, you reach for your wallet
and you realize it's been pinched.
That's when your buddy walks in,
you figure he's the one who stole it.
But this, this makes you see red.
And you've got one hell of a temper.
Now, the two of you step
outside to settle it like men,
but your pal, Blue,
he's not in his cups as much as you
and he catches you a good one.
It would explain the split lip.
But you,
you're the type of fella
who gives as good as he gets.
You crack him one to the jaw
and before he can poke you back,
you hit him with this
bottle, killing him.
Fight over, dead friend.
It does add up.
No, I I don't think
that's what happened at all.
How can you be sure?
When you were hypnotized,
you mentioned a brown bottle.
Well
Catch him, go on!
Get after him! Come on, Crabtree!
Stop! Lead Belly! Stop!
Lead Belly!
Crabtree, get the cuffs on him!
Wait, wait, wait! I've been here before.
Sure, you have.
I swear on my mama's life.
I've been at this here
building two nights ago.
Now, if I'm lying, lock me up.
But this building,
I know it.
Sir, we're already here.
Can't hurt to take a look.
All right. Well, you're
keeping an eye on him.
Come on.
Yeah, that's me.
I'm Charity.
Ah, now, do you remember keeping company
with this gentleman over here?
Patched his lip up with a little honey
- and we had some fun.
- Ah!
Felt like Florence Nightingale.
Well, thanks for that, Miss.
And when he arrived, how was he looking?
Was he covered in blood at all?
Hmm, no. A little rumpled,
but that's to be expected
at that time of night.
About what time was that?
Somewhere around 4:30.
He said he won some money playing craps
and couldn't wait to spend it on me.
Then, afterwards, you scrawled your name
on this four-dollar bill
instead of keeping it.
- Why?
- Well,
he stayed until eight in the morning
and paid me handsomely for it.
I knew he probably
wouldn't remember my name,
sauced as he was.
Besides, everyone
deserves a little charity.
Well, thank you for your help.
We'll let you get back to your
- customers.
- Hmm!
Ma'am.
Have a pleasant evening.
Thank you, Inspector and
feel free to swing by anytime you want.
- Sir! Shall we?
- Oh, yes.
Now, come on.
You think I escaped being
gator bait in Lousiana
to swing in White Man's
Heaven for killing someone?
It just don't make no sense.
You may have received
charity at that cathouse,
but that largesse doesn't
extend to Station House Four.
Listen.
Some of us hit the dirt
quicker than others.
But I had nothing to do
with putting Blue in
touch with his Maker.
I'm a musician, I'm not a killer!
Look, we figured out the clue
about the three-headed dog
with a visit to the tarot reader,
so that memory panned out.
We still don't have anything
on the bloody rainbow
or the lady in the brown bottle.
Have you anything else for us?
I don't. I'm sorry.
So am I.
With no evidence, we
can't exonerate you.
I'm afraid it's off to the cells.
Take him away, Crabtree.
Wait, hold on.
Crabtree, I didn't kill nobody!
- I know.
- This makes no sense.
We gotta go back out
there, there's something.
There. That should help.
Thank you, William.
Oh!
Oh!
Julia?
Ooh, they're coming faster, William.
Right, we need to get you out of here.
There's still a horse with the carriage,
I could unhitch it and
ride to the nearest
What? No! You're not going anywhere
Ow!
Based on my analysis
of his stomach contents,
he died around 7, Tuesday morning.
There's a laceration
from blunt force trauma
to the back of the head.
The blow broke a bone
in the base of the skull,
which resulted in spinal fluid
and blood leaking from his nasal cavity.
He looked like he'd been in a fight.
Yes. Blackened eyes and bloody nose
are a result of the spinal cord
being damaged from the blow.
- Good Lord!
- And after he was struck,
he stopped breathing.
Starving his brain of oxygen.
He might have been dead
before he hit the ground.
Poor bugger.
I thought you believed he
died later, Tuesday night.
I did. However, he was found
in an alley on his back.
But when I went to
establish fixed lividity,
the blood had pooled on the
anterior side of his body.
So, he was struck, fell forward,
died and the blood pooled right here.
He was killed somewhere
and dumped in the alley.
Lividity doesn't lie.
So, Lead Belly was telling the truth.
Because he was still donating to charity
when the sun was coming up.
Well, sir, I don't
think it was a donation,
I think they were
Oh, yes, of course!
Well, then, I suppose the question is,
where was Horatio that morning?
I found someone to identify Horatio
and you'll never guess
where he went and when.
Well, don't leave us in suspense, Watts.
The individual who
delivers papers every day
at the exact same time on the same route
remembers seeing Horatio very much alive
around 5 AM Tuesday morning.
Where was he headed?
Back to the salon.
Ah.
Looks like we need to have
a chat with Miss Bright.
Thank you, Mrs. Hart.
Well, it's not the Imperial Muskoka,
but it should do nicely.
Well, at least it's warm.
Oh
Oh
Does it hurt?
William, I've been shot three times,
had rabies, been buried alive.
This is much worse.
Luckily, I'm with the smartest,
most capable man in the country.
I'm going to guide you through the steps
to delivering our baby.
Are you sure that's wise?
Don't worry, William.
I'm a doctor, after all.
Oh!
Sir!
Look at this.
I'll be damned.
It's a bloody rainbow.
This is where Horatio met his maker.
It's definitely blood.
Inspector Brackenreid!
Good morning, Miss Bright.
Thank you, Miss Jacobs.
You can take a little break, now.
What in heavens are you doing here?
I'm afraid your musician
was killed right here.
- That's preposterous.
- Really?
The smell of cordite coming
off this gun says otherwise.
- I've never even fired it.
- Look.
It's missing a bullet.
How do you explain that, Miss Bright?
It's a match.
We pulled this out of Horatio's body.
And your explanation
isn't holding any water.
I've never even pointed
that gun at anyone.
Hmm.
Maybe Horatio turned up at your salon,
having had a few too many.
He's still mad about the
argument that you had over money
and you're not too
pleased that he ran off
without fulfilling his contract.
Now, just maybe he gets a little fresh,
'cause he's still quite sozzled.
But you
Hit him over the head
with a liquor bottle.
And just for good measure, you
put a bullet in him as well.
Over money?
Over some missed performance?
No, Inspector, I am telling
you the truth when I say
I did not see that man again
after exchanging words Monday night.
You must believe me.
Unfortunately for you, Miss Bright,
I believe in evidence.
There's blood in your salon,
the bullet matches your
gun and the timeline fits.
Miss Bright.
I hate to do this,
but I'm arresting you for
the murder of Horatio Colman.
- Constable!
- Wait
- Take her to the cells.
- Wait!
We do have another suspect,
but to be on the safe side,
you should stay in Toronto for now.
Oh, whee!
I don't know, Crabtree.
Before I came in your country,
I heard this place is
called "Toronto the good".
Ain't been no good for me so far.
Well, the inspector is
exercising a great deal
of caution right now. By the way
I brought you this.
Oh, whee!
Stella! Oh, you're looking great.
Now that I've completed
a full post-mortem,
I have a clearer picture of
what happened to Horatio Colman.
Well, carry on, Mrs. Hart.
In spite of the stab wound to his chest,
there was no blood in his lungs.
And while he smelled
strongly of whiskey,
it appeared to have
been poured in his mouth,
but never swallowed.
And the ligatures around the neck?
Applied after the blow.
If you look here, the
skin is rubbed raw,
but there's no blood present.
Because he was already dead.
For several hours or more, I'd hazard.
This man was long dead
before he was shot,
stabbed, choked or drowned in liquor.
As the song says.
So, whoever killed him
hid the body until they could
dump him under cover of darkness?
In the meantime,
they heard "Five Ways to Kill a Man"
and used the four other ways to
redirect attention to the singer.
Lead Belly was being set up.
Right.
Mrs. Hart.
Miss Bright.
Now, where were you between 8 PM
and midnight on Tuesday evening?
My salon.
I was at the show, we watched
Lead Belly perform at 10
and then Ezra and I
went back to his place.
And you left the salon
directly after this show?
We stayed to close up. See patrons off.
And we left at around midnight.
And you were together all night?
His landlady can attest to that.
Thank you, Constable. That'll be all.
Ezra Steele confirms her alibi.
They were together the
entire night at his place.
So, what now?
We're back to square
one, without any suspects.
Who else would have motive to
kill an out-of-town musician?
Well, process of elimination means
it has to be someone who was at
the salon early in the morning,
had access to the gun
and heard the song.
Right, Crabtree.
We need to go back to
the scene of the crime.
Thank you.
Problem's been solved.
I don't know what you're worried about.
What I'm worried about is
any unnecessary attention
from the Toronto
constabulary on my business.
I cleaned up a mess to save
your partner from the noose.
You don't stick your neck
out for anyone but me.
Yes, boss.
And please, don't act
like you did this for me.
There were plenty of other women
you could have been fooling
around with in the city,
but you had to get sweet on this one!
I made a mistake.
Push!
I don't want to do this, William.
You are doing so well, Julia.
But please, keep breathing
and I just need one more push.
One more push.
You did it!
It's a little girl!
What do I do now?
Goodness gracious!
Well, celebrate the moment!
Congratulations!
Let's go home.
Let's say the attack
happened right here.
Horatio's struck from
behind and he falls here.
He's on the ground with
blood pooling all around.
Lead Belly stumbles in after
a late night at the cathouse.
The sun is coming up, he sees the blood.
With the rainbow reflected in it.
But he's still so
drunk that what he sees,
it doesn't really register.
All he wants to do is pass out.
Which he does, in the makeshift bed
Miss Bright set up for him
at the back of the salon.
By the time he wakes up, inspired,
he has no idea he's writing
about his friend's murder.
But how did he not see the killer?
And who could have been in
the same space the whole time
without being noticed?
The lady in the brown bottle.
Well, hello.
The rhythm of the carriage
must be lulling her to sleep.
I'm surprised you aren't asleep
after the night we've had.
Oh, I just can't stop looking at her.
I can't believe she's here.
It's official for you.
You're the daddy to a little girl.
May I hold her?
I just I'd hate to wake her.
- Oh.
- All right.
Ooh
- Make sure you support her head.
- Oh, yes, yes.
- Oh!
- Wouldn't want to break her.
It's not possible.
You could use this
time to read your book.
I know we didn't get all of
the time we thought we would.
You're right, it's a good idea.
There is so much I have to tell you.
Fantastical tales, unbelievable yarns.
Your mother is
asleep.
Once again, your mother
has the right idea.
You killed him and
framed his friend. Why?
- He made me a sinner, sir.
- He did?
He caused me, a good
Christian woman, to fall,
lose my grace in the eyes of my God.
How does a travelling musician
sully a woman as virtuous as you?
I am made of flesh and blood, sir.
And was weak in the face of that
intoxicating music he played.
I gave myself over to
him early Tuesday morning,
in spite of myself.
And that's why you killed him.
I killed him because afterwards,
he threw two dollars at me
like I was a common Delilah.
I barely remember pulling
that bottle from my bag
and striking him.
I didn't mean to kill
him, but he was dead.
And that's when you hid the body.
I dragged his body into the closet.
I knew nobody would look there
until I figured out what to do.
That night, I heard the song.
The Lord provides when you need him.
When the police found the body,
they could lock up another sinner.
And you were fine with
watching an innocent man
hang for a crime that you committed?
Innocent? He's the devil's instrument,
singing about murder.
I would be doing the Lord's work
removing him from this Earth.
That's where you're wrong, young lady.
It's only because you killed his friend
that he was inspired to write that song.
And you, using his words to
commit further indignities
on the body is what led us to you.
No.
I don't believe it.
Sinful ways lead to
righteous punishment.
The Lord works in mysterious ways.
He will forgive me for what
I've done to protect my virtue.
I don't think you'll see
God where you're going.
Ain't no education in the
second kick of a mule, Crabtree.
That's gonna be the last time
I see the inside of a jail.
Well, I tell you what. With your talent,
all I see is a rising star.
You know what? I did get
a song or two out of it.
But I think I'm ready for a
few more happier experiences.
Indeed!
You know, I envy you that you
can write a song just like that.
It takes me forever to write a book!
In any case, I hope we do get to
see each other again, some day.
You know what? Come on
down with me to Louisiana.
You're an author.
If you can write a story, you
sure enough can write a song.
How about I make a trip down
and you can take me to Mardi
Gras? I've always wanted to go.
Man! Fat Tuesday can't come fast enough.
Take care of yourself, Crabtree.
Safe travels, Lead Belly.
You know, I spend most
of my waking life at work,
it's not often that my friends
- get to experience that side of me.
- Hmm.
Thank you for last night, Milo.
Your work is intriguing.
I have a newfound appreciation
for what you do, Llewelyn Watts.
Oh, I dare say, you made my job fun?
Now, are you up for an
evening that doesn't include
a dead body tonight?
Well, as wonderful as that sounds,
I am spending the evening
with Byron, remember?
Yes, of course.
Byron, how could I forget?
I'm here with you now.
What does it matter who
I spend the evening with?
The devil made me do it.
Her eyes, Julia.
I can't stop looking at her little eyes.
Good, I thought that was just me.
Oh!
Have you smelled her head?
I just I can't put her down.
May I hold her now?
Oh
Hmm!
What?
Julia Ogden, you are so beautiful.
Oh!
What I am is sleep-deprived.
I am also deliriously happy.
I can't believe this day has come.
I may be biased, but
I think she's perfect.
Not biased at all. I've never
seen a more perfect baby.
I know!
What should we name her?
I was thinking
Muskoka!
Oh, William, no!
What, think of the
interesting story we could tell
to embarrass her at dinner parties.
I was thinking
Susannah would be lovely.
Oh, I can't think of a better
way to honour my sister, Julia.
That is
Oh
Thank you.
Welcome to the world, Susannah Murdoch.