Murdoch Mysteries

: * You can hear them sigh and wish to die *

- Edgar? - * At the man who brought *

Edgar Leeman, where have you been?

I have been to England to visit the Queen.

You left 2 hours ago to buy soup bones!

Why have soup...

when you can have this... chicken!

- We can't afford chicken. - Ah.

And then...

there's this...

Edgar, what in heaven!

I bought it at a thrift store. 50 cents.

But it looks brand new!

Happy anniversary, dear.

You haven't been gambling, have you?

You swear on your mother's grave?

On my mother's grave

and a stack of Bibles up to my chin,

I swear, these were not bought with winnings.

Oh, Edgar!

(Edgar): I'll get it.

Can I help you?

I'm sorry, no!

Edgar, who is it?

Edgar!

Oh, God! Edgar! Oh, Edgar!

Mrs. Leeman?

He left the house to buy bones.

We had a dollar and 4 cents to last us through the week,

so we were making do with soup.

And yet he came home with chicken

and a fancy hat.

He always had a keen eye for a bargain.

Well then, perhaps you can tell me how it is your husband

came home with more money than he had when he left?

: This way.

"I'm sorry, no."

- Those were his last words? - According to his wife. Yes.

That's what I say to all those bloody door-to-door salesmen.

Maybe one of them just cracked. A man can only take so much rejection.

Sir, I think it has more to do with the money.

After all, he did come home with more money than he had when he left.

- Perhaps he was a gambler. - He assured his wife he wasn't.

Ha! Ha! Ha! I assure the wife

that the bottle in my desk is the same one I was working on

last week. Men lie, Murdoch.

You may not, but the rest of us bloody do.

Yes, I'm aware of that, sir. But if he was gambling,

why call attention to it by buying his wife an elaborate gift?

Well, if he had more money, someone else had less,

and maybe that someone was unhappy about it.

Right then, any new insights into the pastor Henshaw murder?

I'm afraid not, sir,

although I believe I've identified the murder weapon.

According to the bruising, it's consistent

with the pastor being beaten to death with a cane.

- Any finger marks on it? - Only the pastor's.

- And there's also this blood smear. - Is that it?

- I'm afraid so. - Well, Murdoch,

I think I'll take a crack at this one.

Maybe there's something that the old Thomas S. Brackenreid nose

- can sniff out. - Hmm, have at it, sir.

- Gentlemen. - Good morning, Doctor.

You're having a busy week. First, the pastor Henshaw murder

and now another one.

Yes, I've asked the doctor for any insights

she may have into what possibly motivated the pastor's killer.

I'm afraid I don't have any insights that aren't obvious.

Given the amount of bruising on his face,

it's apparent he was struck repeatedly even after he collapsed.

- So he was killed in anger. - That would be my analysis.

Well, you're right, that is bloody obvious.

But who would be so enraged

as to kill a pastor?

Cause of death, a bullet wound through the left aorta.

Death would have occurred within seconds, I should think.

- Did you retrieve the bullet? - Yes! .41 calibre.

- A Derringer. - The gambler's choice,

- I believe. - May I take this?

We already know the calibre

and the make of gun, what more is there to discern?

Every gun barrel has rifling

which leaves striations on every bullet.

These striations are as distinctive as finger marks.

Oh yes, I see, how interesting!

I beg your pardon.

Thank you.

Crabtree, have a look at the picture. Move your left arm.

- Yes, that! That's it! - But, sir, I'm trying!

: What's all this?

Ah, Murdoch. Just working on a theory.

I don't believe that this was the murder weapon.

But I thought the pastor's bruising was consistent with the shape of this cane.

Watch this. The victim was hit 8 times.

One, two, three, four, five, six,

seven, eight!

And yet there is only blood on the middle portion of the cane.

I think that the cane belonged to the pastor,

who used it to try to defend himself, but the killer

Drove it, drove it into his face!

Very good, sir.

You're welcome, Murdoch.

Right, up you get, George.

Any progress on the hat?

Sir, we've checked with every thrift store

this side of Yonge Street. None of them have sold

an Italian straw hat with ostrich plumage and champagne ribboning.

That's a very detailed description, George.

Oh, sir, my aunt Primrose used to send me to fetch hats

all the time. One had to be very specific,

there was a great many hats.

Right, uh, George,

perhaps Mr. Leeman lied about where he obtained the hat

to conceal from his wife that he had suddenly come into money.

- Check all the other hat shops. - Sir, we have,

and there is one store that sells that exact hat,

with the ribboning also available in plum and raspberry.

Where is this?

: On the corner of Carlton and Parliament.

I believe this to be a reasonable exchange.

Let me tell you what hell is like.

Imagine placing your hand

over a candle at the tip of the flame.

After a second, the pain is already unbearable

I don't care! I don't care! I'm the one who's talking!

That's right! She's the one. She's the one. She's the one.

She begged me. She begged me.

- (man): Come on in. - You're going to love it.

Honestly. Thank you so much. Ok, bye-bye.

- Keep walking, Grimsby. - As ugly as ever.

Thank you. If you need some rope to hang yourself...

Fresh pizza pie!

Pizza pie! Fresh pizza pie!

: Beautiful day today! Come on in and get your meat!

All right, George. Show this photograph around

and see if anyone recalls seeing Mr. Leeman yesterday afternoon.

- Sir. - Pizza pie, don't be shy!

Come on over, everybody!

- Pizza pie! Fresh pizza pie! - (Butcher): Sale over here, ladies and gentlemen!

Come on in for some specials on our meats today!

Oh yes. I remember him.

He came in to buy a hat for his wife.

- What time was this? - Just after closing, around 6.

We weren't going to let him in, but he was in such good spirits,

we couldn't say no. Came in singing,

kissed our hands, even tried some of the hats.

How much was the hat that he bought?

4 dollars and 15 cents.

- It was our most expensive hat. - Hmm.

Paid using a brand new 10-dollar bill.

You don't see many of those.

- (man): Best price here. - (Man): I don't care.

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. She wanted me to, but I don't care...

: The devil tempts you all the time.

She wanted me to. I don't care, don't care.

Excuse me, sir.

She wanted, wanted me to go ahead and do it.

Sir, did you see this man yesterday afternoon?

He's dead.

Yes, but did you see him yesterday afternoon?

It wasn't my blood on him. Him. He knows.

He knows what?

Ooh, he's one of them. And then, then, then

she just told me to do it, she wanted me to do it.

I just didn't want to, I didn't want to...

Pizza pie! Fresh pizza pie!

Excuse me, sir.

Did you see this man yesterday afternoon?

Hmm, sorry. Pizza pie! Fresh pizza pie!

This chap seems to think that you did.

That man's a bloody lunatic!

Ah, who knows? Maybe I did see him.

But if he didn't buy a bite, I'm not going to remember, eh?

What is this pizza pie?

It's a tomato and cheese pie.

If you want meat, you have to wait for the next one, eh?

- Well, a penny a bite, eh? - Well, there you go.

: Trust no one but your Lord...

- It's delicious! - Yeah!

- That's very good! - Yeah! Pizza pie!

Fresh pizza pie! Anything, George?

Ah, sir. Nothing yet, I'm afraid.

- (woman): Constable Crabtree! - Mrs. Lynd, it's good to see you.

- You still have your purse, I see. - Yes, thanks to you.

Two weeks ago I left it on this bench right here

and when I came back it was gone!

Along with the only photograph of my dear Jack.

Higgins and I did a search of the alleys.

Yes, and you found it!

You know, someone just took what they wanted and tossed it away.

I mean, can you believe that?

I was just so grateful I brought a pie to his house.

Yes, you did. It was excellent as well.

Mrs. Lynd, did you see this man yesterday afternoon?

Oh...

Yes... yes, a nice man.

He tipped his hat to me. People don't do that anymore.

In my days, everybody greeted with a little tip of the hat...

Mrs. Lynd, hm, did you see where the man went?

Why, yes. Of course.