Murdoch Mysteries

I'm so excited for Victoria Day.

The city just comes alive.

You said the same thing about Easter.

Well, the city comes alive at Easter, too.

Is there nothing about holidays that excites you?

Well, there is one thing. You come alive.

Moving pictures.

When are they going to give up on that?

Nobody likes them.

I quite like the pictures.

I once saw one with creatures from Mars.

Oh, I hear there's gonna be vaudeville tonight.

Acts from all over.

Now that sounds all right. Nomi?

How lovely. Certainly.

Thomas, isn't that that Inspector?

The one whose wife has the glass eye?

Ah, I think so.

They were so charming, we should go say hello.

Not right now, Margaret.

Why not?

I owe the inspector a few dollars.

Ah, excuse me, ladies.

I need to have a word with Murdoch.

Sir, you're just in time. I have an announcement.

Spit it out then, Higgins.

Ruth is with child!

Oh. Congratulations, Henry.

Ah, procreation. The human race is nothing if not relentless.

That's marvelous.

I didn't think you had it in you, Higgins. Congratulations.

That's terrific, Henry.

But shouldn't cigars and celebrations wait

till the actual birth?

I mean, not just at the announcement

of something that's months away?

Who cares!

We'll have cigars and celebrate every day.

To Hieronymous Higgins-Newsome!

No, no, it's all wrong.

Where did we find you wet-brains?

Were you grown on a dirt farm?

George, that's...

Obie Stratford!

Aha, some fans of vaud I see.

I hope you'll be at the show tonight.

I've got acts coming in from all over -

not to mention yours truly.

Ah, look at this lovely lady.

I tell you, the way ladies dress in the big cities these days,

whoo- wee.

I tell you if styles keep advancing

I hope I live five years longer.

Is that meant to be funny?

I believe the joke lies in the incongruence

of the lasciviousness.

Just enjoy it.

Obie Stratford is the biggest star in vaudeville.

That's right.

And tonight - all the biggest stars will be gathered here.

But none will shine as bright as Obie Stratford!

What in God's name?

My God. He's dead.

It would appear he fell

out of that fourth story window.

Fell, or jumped.

Perhaps he wasn't a fan of vaudeville.

Like yourself.

He was a vaudevillian I'd wager.

This is the hotel where I'm putting up all the acts.

So, you knew him?

No.

Comics are a depressed lot.

You put enough of us in the same place,

one of us is bound to jump out a window.

Detective, I think your line of questioning

may need adjustment.

Oh? What have you, Miss Hart?

The man was dead before he fell.

Cause of death?

I can't be certain yet.

But the presence of petechiae and what appears

to be a metallic contact burn suggests electrocution.

Curious.

I feel awful.

I know in my head I'm glad for Higgins

but when he told us I felt bad.

He has something you hope to also have someday in your life,

a moment of jealousy is perfectly normal George.

Did you feel the same?

-No. -Honestly?

Do you know me as a man prone to fabrications?

I believe this is it.

Suicide note.

"...I can't take it anymore... goodbye."

Written in block letters.

The bathtub is empty but the mirror is still fogged

and there's wet towels on the floor.

This lamp is broken.

So the man had a bath, either pulled the lamp in

or it fell in somehow.

Either way, he died of electrocution,

cleaned things up and jumped out the window.

Not likely.

Was there any identification?

I can tell you the man's name. Kenny McClusky.

How did you know him?

I'm staying in the hotel, met him last night.

Absolute riot.

The only amusing man in the city other than yours truly.

And you are?

I'm the funniest man in the world.

Charlie Chaplin.

What happened to the poor sucker?

Who wants to know?

Arthur Carmichael. Charmed.

Carmichael. I knew your father.

Really?

Sad business, that.

I can't say I cared for him.

Nor did I.

You're that city coroner, aren't you?

I've heard of you.

Good for you.

The coroner's office does not release any information

about pending cases to the public.

McClusky was just off the train from Detroit.

Said he didn't know a soul in Toronto.

If he knew no one here,

who would have wanted to kill him?

I don't know.

But Kenny knew how to make enemies.

He was an insult comic.

His whole act is making fun.

Did you see him insult anyone last night?

I certainly did.

There was one man in particular

who was hopping mad.

William, there you are. Any developments?

As a matter of fact, Mr. Chaplin is taking us

to a person of interest.

Indeed, and if you'll pardon my interruption,

here he is now.

You there, what was your name again?

Ed Ward!

You're Ed Ward?

-You said it, pal. -You're not Ed Ward.

We've met Ed Ward and you sir are not he.

It must be a different Edward.

What's your surname?

I just told you. My name is Ed Ward!

He is Mr. Ward, given name "Ed".

Ed Ward. Ha ha.

Oh, that's quite clever.

Did you simply steal Mr. Ward's name and persona?

Steal? Of course not. I bought it.

The name, the image, the props - the whole she-bang.

You paid money for...

Mr. Ward, I understand that you met a Mr. McClusky

in the hotel bar last night.

Kenny? Yes, that's right.

Threw himself out a window, did he?

Well, we're not so sure about that.

Fess to it, man.

You almost killed Kenny last night with your bare hands.

I did no such thing.

He likened your hair to a mass of dead rats

and you just about throttled him.

Mr. Chaplin, please. I'll conduct this interview.

I wasn't angry at him for that.

I was angry because he was a disrespectful halfwit

who wouldn't know real vaud if he sat on it.

Oh dear!

It's my...

Flatulence sack. Hilarious.

Anyway, the man was alive and well last I saw him.

He was wandering off with the kid here,

and his little friend - who, by the way,

also seemed pretty annoyed with McClusky.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have no intention

of touching this investigation with a ten -

nay, eleven-foot pole!

An eleven-foot pole?

For the things I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole!

Something worse.

Worse than he would touch with a ten-foot pole.

Mr. Chaplin.

Your friend was also annoyed with McClusky last night?

Yes, that's true.

But Stanley wouldn't hurt a fly.

Detective.

This is my understudy and my best friend

in the whole wide world.

Don't just stand there, introduce yourself

you simpering clod.

Sorry, yes. Stanley Laurel.

Lovely to meet, you Mr. Laurel.

It's devilishly hot in here, isn't it?

No.

Need I write a statement, so you have a record, Detective?