Murdoch Mysteries

There were several reports, sir.

But there was some confusion

as to whether people heard one shot or two.

Now, this is where the call about the body came in.

A police call box.

- Did the caller identify themselves? - No, sir.

Sounds like the Hog's Head Tavern is letting out, sir.

Why do people do this, George? And why the 'wah hoo'?

Well, there are several variants, sir.

There is 'wah hoo', 'yeah hoo'.

I believe in Texas they say

'yee haw'.

- Still quite warm. - Sir, look.

Blood.

I killed him.

It's just a graze, you're very lucky.

If I was lucky, the dead man would be under arrest

and I would be unscathed.

I think given how events played out, I was rather unlucky.

Yes. How did events play out?

I came upon him unexpectedly in the alley.

He was drunk and belligerent. I tried to avoid him, but

he came straight at me.

How frightening.

He drew a pistol from his coat.

As I lifted my arm to block the shot, he pulled the trigger.

What happened then?

We fought for control of the weapon and it discharged.

I tried to save him,

but he died within seconds.

I'd never killed anyone before.

It's a terrible feeling.

The first time I ever killed someone up close face-to-face

was in the line of duty.

Came at me with a knife. Had no choice.

Troubled me all the same.

And you say you didn't know this man?

- Not that I'm aware. - Did he recognise you?

I don't know.

What are you thinking, Murdoch?

Well, I would certainly like to know his motive.

What motive? He was drunk and belligerent.

Sir, the man drew a pistol and shot.

Agreed. It was more than the average Saturday night donnybrook.

Do you remember anything else?

What he said? How he looked at you?

My only true memories are scattered impressions.

Anything else would be my own invention.

I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you more.

Well, we need to learn the identity of the victim.

Victim?

Oh, yes. Of course he's the victim.

Look, Watts.

Go home. Take tomorrow off.

Go for a walk in the park.

- Get your mind off this. - Yes. I think that's best.

Julia, could you oversee this one?

- It's not that I don't trust Miss Hart. - I understand.

- I'll let her know. - Thank you.

- What have you, George? - Sir.

I've identified two sets of fingermarks on the weapon.

Detective Watts and the victim?

That's correct. I found four casings.

Two had been fired, two bullets were still in there.

The only slightly odd thing about that

is this revolver is built to take five.

Other than that, I lifted a partial thumb mark,

but it belongs to neither man.

The gun could have been borrowed, I suppose.

Or stolen.

Good point. He's likely a criminal.

Check the photographs. We have a city-wide directory now.

- Get Henry to help you. - Sir.

- Have I lost your confidence, Detective? - Miss Hart.

You yourself have in fact complimented me on my abilities.

A police detective has killed a man,

under suspicious circumstances.

It's not my trust at issue. It's the trust of the mayor,

the chief constable, the public.

I see your abilities.

They see a young, inexperienced woman who is not yet a doctor.

- Let's begin, shall we? - Yes.

Powder burns on wound opening are consistent

with Detective Watts' account.

Very close range, within inches.

The bullet has yet to be extracted,

but the opening is consistent with a 38 caliber weapon.

As for the time of death,

rectal temperature recorded at 93 degrees.

Ambient temperature recorded at 62 degrees

- and diminishing at a rate... - Your estimate is all I require.

I wanted to be sure Dr Ogden was confident.

I have complete confidence in your method of calculations.

Time of death?

Midnight, give or take 30 minutes.

Is that in accordance with your expectations?

It is. Thank you.

Let's continue, shall we?

What's become of this city that a policemen

would be targeted in a murderous attack?

For Pete's sake!

Higgins! Wake up!

It's Higgins-Newsome, if you don't mind.

Higgins, that's the third time you've nodded off this week.

Is married life really so boisterous?

It's not that.

- I took a second job. - You?

- You barely have enough energy for one. - I know.

But it's been hard on Ruth.

She's not used to penury of the sort

that you and I are accustomed to.

Her hairdressing bill alone is half my wage.

Well, maybe she should start doing her own hair.

I don't know, George. She's already given up truffles

- and her chocolate delivery service. - Chocolate?

Right then, what's this job you've taken?

Night watchman.

- Sounds easy enough. - I thought so too!

I was hoping I'd be able to sleep there, but

they've got these hellish new machines

that I have to punch every hour on my rounds.

Well, you can't sleep here either, Higgins.

If you're going to have another job,

it should be one that has you home by bedtime.

- There are none. - That's bollocks. I've been looking for a mechanic

for the auto repair shop for weeks now.

There are plenty of jobs if you're a mechanic or a doctor.

I have no skills.

Maybe you need to get some.

Or better yet, invent your own job.

Should I invent someone to pay my wages too?

Higgins. What do people want?

What can you supply? What are you good at?

I'm a good singer.

Anything but that.

I once won a contest for reciting the alphabet backwards.

Higgins. You are also the co-owner of an automobile.

That just gets me to the job that I don't have faster.

Yes, but perhaps it could get other people

to where they need to go.

Like a cabbie?

A motorised cabbie.

How do I get customers?

Drive down the street yelling, "Cabbie for hire?"

You could. Or you could advertise

and you could get one of those messaging services

to dispatch your calls.

Huh.

Maybe.

Wait a minute, Higgins. Turn back.

What?

That's him.

Who?

That's our victim, Higgins. You fell asleep on him.

Nigel Baker.

Murderer, recently released.

That's him. That's my son, dear God.

I'm sorry for your loss, Mr Baker.

When did you last see your son?

We were at Hog's Head Tavern with his friends.

We were celebrating his release.

He left shortly before I did. About eleven o'clock.

Your son attacked and shot

- a police detective. - What?

And he was killed in the ensuing struggle.

How? Who?

A Detective Watts.

- Does that name sound familiar? - No.

Can you think of any reason why your son

would do something like this?

My son wasn't treated very fairly by the police.

- He was convicted on bad evidence. - Yes.

But the conviction was overturned.

He was out on the street, a free man.

But he still lost four years of his life.

Hardly a reason to shoot at a police officer.

I know you're trying to understand what happened, Detective.

I'm sorry I can't help you.

It doesn't make sense.

That's the trouble with you, Murdoch.

You insist on the world making sense.

Sir, people don't just go around

shooting someone they don't know for no reason.

What if he just wanted to?

- What have you, George? - Sir, a case file for Nigel Baker.

Apparently, he was some sort of gang leader in the west end.

- Reputed to be ruthless. - West end.

That's Watts old stomping ground.

I'm surprised he didn't recognise him.

George, that murder conviction, who was the victim?

Sir, this man.

Daniel Marks. 20 years old.

Lived in the same neighbourhood as Baker.

Apparently, Mr Marks had reported on a robbery

that Nigel Baker had committed, and presumably,

Baker killed him in retaliation.

I also found out Nigel Baker

was at the Hog's Head Tavern until 11:00.

And by the time he left, by all accounts,

he was well into his cups.