Murdoch Mysteries

- Now, Henry. - Sir, I...

It's all right. Don't be afraid.

- Ha, ha, ha! - What's that, sir?

Something I've been experimenting with.

It's an Induction Balance Machine.

Okay, sir. And it turns on lights, does it?

'Cause, we have switches for that...

- It's capable of far more than that, Henry. - Sir?

- It seems there's been a... Sweet mother of... ! - You see,

it can detect metal. It could be useful in gathering evidence.

Sir, make it stop... please.

- What have you, George? - Sir,

there's been a murder at the Palace Hotel.

Toronto Constabulary!

In a minute.

What the devil... ? (knocking)

Stop knocking, for the love of God!

Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

Yes. You've made that deafeningly clear.

- We've had a call. - What the devil?

- Reginald! My God, Reginald. - Please. Please.

Don't touch the body. Do you know who this man is?

His name is Reginald Mayfair.

- He was a friend. - And you are?

Churchill. Winston Churchill.

What happened here last night, Mr. Churchill?

I... I don't know.

- We went for drinks last night. - And... ?

That's all I remember.

Doctor?

Rigor mortis is just setting in.

Death would have occurred sometime last night. He suffered

a superficial wound to the forearm.

But that's not what killed him.

It looks like he was killed by a knife.

A very large knife.

Possibly even a sword.

A sword?

Sir.

I found this in the bedroom.

Mr. Churchill,

I'm afraid you are going to have to come down to the station.

Murdoch! You've got Winston Churchill locked up in our cells!

- He's awaiting my interview, sir. He's a suspect in the case. - A suspect?

A suspect? He's Winston bloody Churchill.

He's in town to deliver a lecture tonight.

He may not make his lecture, sir.

The murder weapon may be a sword,

and a bloody sword was found in Mr. Churchill's room.

What does he say about it?

He doesn't remember a thing. He'd been drinking.

I've been there. Trust me, Murdoch. Murder isn't in the man.

- I've read his stuff. - As have I, sir.

All of the newspapers carried his account of his escape from the Boers.

Oh, everyone goes on and on about his escape from the bloody Boers.

It's his battle stories you should read.

They send shivers down your spine.

Did you know he was in the cavalry charge at Omdurman?

400 Lancers against 3,000 crazed Dervishes.

Limbs flying everywhere. Bracing stuff!

You don't suppose he'd be willing to sign my autograph book, do you?

Reginald Mayfair and I met in the Sudan.

He was with the infantry. I was with the cavalry.

After the campaign, he emigrated to Canada.

Naturally we arranged to meet up

once I arrived in Toronto.

Mr. Churchill,

what can you tell us about last night?

We met at my hotel.

We had brandy and cigars.

Then we went to Reginald's club and...

That's it? That's all you remember?

Until I was awakened by your knock this morning.

- The sword in your room? - I've never seen it before.

Gentlemen...

Reginald was my friend.

I would never hurt him,

let alone kill him.

We have no reason to doubt you, Mr. Churchill.

Nevertheless, until we learn more about last night's events,

you will be required to stay here.

I should cancel tonight's lecture.

Nonsense. We'll have this sorted out in no time.

- Sir... - I have tickets, Murdoch.

If you remember anything,

- anything at all... - Of course.

Detective,

I want Reginald's killer brought to justice.

I care more about that than proving my own innocence.

Mr. Churchill...

I've collected some notable signatures over the years

and it would be a great honour...

You wish me to sign your autograph book?

If that's no trouble.

I would have thought the collection of autographs

more the province of pimply boys

and silly girls than a police inspector tasked

with determining the identity of the man who murdered my friend!

Why, you... (knocking)

Sirs.

I've compared the fingermarks on the sword to those of Mr. Churchill here.

- And? - They're a match.

Impossible!

He was my friend.

Be that as it may, facts are facts.

Unless you can explain to us how that sword got into your hand,

then you're looking good for the murder.

Perhaps I was a little hasty in suggesting that you might make that lecture tonight.

I suggest you sit back down.

He was a young man.

Not a lot of adipose tissue to insulate the corpse.

And given the nature of his wound,

I think we can assume that death would have followed within minutes,

- if not seconds, after the blow. - And?

So assuming a constant room temperature of 70 degrees,

I've determined that the fatal incident occurred

between 1:30 and 2:00 last night.

And the wounds?

As you know, there were two. The one to the forearm

is superficial, but it would have been bloody.

He also has some bruising around his left eye.

- Suggesting he was in a fist fight. - Yes.

But given the extent of the contusion,

I'd estimate that occurred at least an hour before his death.

And the fatal wound?

Yes. I think you'll find this very interesting.

The incision is two inches in width.

The weapon entered just below the sternum, and exited

between the 7th and 8th costal.

He was run through!

Whoever did this certainly meant to kill him.

Then we know for certain the murder weapon was a sword.

Thank you.

- Ah, so that's the murder weapon, is it? - Possibly, sir.

But have a look at this.

If this sword was used to run the man through,

wouldn't there be blood across the entire width, not just the edge?

- Perhaps he wiped it clean? - Then why not wipe the entire sword?

He was drunk.

Sirs, Churchill's valet is here.

He's brought Mr. Churchill some fresh clothes.

He has a bloody valet, does he?

Sir, I can't help but notice...

it seems you've turned against your hero.

I'd forgotten what an arrogant toff he actually is.

He travels with bloody servants, for God sakes.

Real men carry their own bags, Murdoch.

- Uh... - Thank you, sir.

Ahem.

We met in the Sudan two years ago.

I've worked for him since that time.

During that time, have you ever known him to experience

alcohol-induced memory loss?

Mr. Churchill doesn't remember anything of last night's events.

- None at all? - None that he'll admit to.

Well, I will say this. If Mr. Churchill tells you he cannot remember,

then you can take him at his word. He never lies.

Not even to spare one's feelings.

Um...

What can you tell me about last night's events? Not much,

I am afraid. I escorted Mr. Churchill and Mr. Mayfair to the Albany Club.

Mr. Churchill dismissed me after that.

What time was this?

Approximately nine o'clock.

Thank you, Mr. Ahmadi.

The constable will take the rest of your information.

And remember, if there's anything else that you recall,

- please don't hesitate to contact me. - Of course.

Sir, according to guests

staying next to Churchill's suite, there was loud voices

and clashing sounds at around 1:45 AM.

We also have a witness who claims

that she saw a man leaving Churchill's suite

shortly thereafter at 2 AM.

- Did she offer a description? - Only that he was Negro.

- That narrows the list. - Excuse me.

I couldn't help but overhear.

I should tell you that Mr. Churchill's boot man is negro.

His name is Jim Carver.

- Thank you, Mr. Ahmadi. - Crabtree, find Mr. Carver.

I'd like to take a crack at him. Oh, and bring the witness in as well.

Sir.

Is that the man that you saw

leaving Mr. Churchill's suite last night?

Yes. That's him.

I didn't kill anybody.

I was just there to polish Mr. Churchill's boots.

- At two o'clock in the morning? - He always likes his boots waiting for him

first thing in the morning. I didn't want to have to get up that early.

- Was Mr. Churchill in his room at the time? - Yes,

I heard him snoring.

And you didn't notice a dead body lying on the floor?

Mr. Churchill always leaves his boots right by the door.

That's where I polished them, right out in the hallway.

What time was this?

Round about 2:30.

- Not two o'clock? - No, sir. I was still out at that time.

- It's not him. - I agree. He's only been in Mr. Churchill's employ

for two weeks. He didn't even know Reginald Mayfair.

Well, what about the time discrepancy?