The 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Looks like we need to have a chat with Miss Bright.
Thank you, Mrs.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.

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