Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; they belong to Maureen Jennings, Shaftesbury and the CBC.
CHAPTER TEN
"Ow!" George winced as Dr. Ogden tugged on the final suture, his fingers grabbing for the seat of the chair he sat in. Behind him, Nina squeezed his shoulder comfortingly as she watched Dr. Ogden clean up the last bit of the wound before stepping back to examine her handiwork.
"I believe that should do it, George," Julia said as she moved from him to begin examining the body of Sam Hansen, which was lying on her table.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Nina asked George. He reached up, gave her hand a squeeze.
"Fine. Been hit by worse," he admitted.
"Did you see anyone?" Murdoch asked him.
The constable shook his head. "No, sir. Footsteps," he said. "I heard footsteps, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up with a splitting headache. No sign of Mr. Dwyer at all."
"Do you suppose he was the one that hit you?" Murdoch wondered.
George shrugged. "Can't say for sure. Either he hit me as a warning to stop poking into other people's business, or whoever whopped me got him too." Nina kissed the top of his forehead tenderly, something that did not go unnoticed by the detective and doctor. "Sir, what happened at the Star Room?" George asked Murdoch.
John Brackenreid came into the morgue, his eyes widening at the sight of George's face. "Holy Mary," John breathed. "George, what happened?"
George pointed at him. "An excellent question," he replied. "Wish I knew for certain."
"What have you, John?" Murdoch questioned John. John turned to him, flicking his notebook open to the right page.
"The patrons at the bar confirm the bartender's story," he said. "One minute, Sam Hansen was fine; the next, he was on the floor. But sir, here's the interesting part." He looked over at Nina, who still wore the bottom of her costume and Murdoch's overcoat, and that was it. He swallowed. "Uh. A-a few of the other patrons reported not feeling well-dizziness, headache. Higgins can confirm it as well, sir," he said.
"Something in the air?" George offered.
"More like something in his drink," Julia said. She looked over the top of Sam Hansen. "Mr. Hansen died from methanol poisoning."
John and Nina looked lost. Julia turned to Murdoch with a shake of her head. "Do you want to take this one?" she offered.
Murdoch nodded. "Perhaps not tonight. Let's give George a chance to recover. Let's all of us reconvene tomorrow morning in my office." He looked at Nina. "Everyone."
George looked up over his shoulder at Nina with a soft smile. "I'll make sure he gets home," Nina assured everyone, helping him to his feet. George swayed a little on his feet and she looped his arm over her shoulder.
"Sir, what exactly is going on?" John asked the detective.
Murdoch looked from Sam Hansen to the bottle of confiscated whiskey. "If my hunch is correct," he said, looking over at John, "nothing good."
The next morning, Detective Murdoch, Constables Crabtree and Brackenreid, Dr. Julia Ogden, Inspector Brackenreid and Nina Bloom all converged on Murdoch's office. Julia closed the door and perched herself on a chair as Murdoch stepped out from behind his desk, chalk in hand. On his desk was the bottle of whiskey Nina had borrowed from the bar.
Murdoch rubbed his hands together. "All right. As we all know, the sale of consumable alcohol in the city is taxed for profits," he explained. "And there's been an increasing movement both here and in the United States to ban the consumption of alcohol." He glanced at Inspector Brackenreid as he said this, and the Inspector muttered something under his breath about the 'bloody Temperance League.'
Murdoch continued, "In places where alcohol is made legitimately, there is generally a place where some of the product is taken and 'denatured,' that is, it's made unfit for human consumption by adding chemicals to it to make it undrinkable." Julia produced a bottle of rubbing alcohol from her bag. "The right additives, and it's basically the same thing I used to disinfect your wound last night, George."
"So there must be a room like that at Parkington?" George clarified, and Murdoch nodded.
"Because of the chemicals and dyes that are used, that room generally only has one person with the keys and there's all sorts of rules about ventilation and such," Julia added.
"Is that what killed Sam?" Nina asked. "This…this undrinkable alcohol?"
"It's exactly what killed him, and likely poisoned the other patrons at the Star Room, in a smaller dose," Julia said. "Methanol is added to the alcohol to make it undrinkable, to make it taste bad. Poisonous, essentially."
"Why would anyone want to drink that?" John asked. "It's…cleaning supplies."
"The most important thing about it, and I believe the motive for it," Murdoch said, "is that particular alcohol isn't taxed."
"So Parkington makes it on the side and sells it to consumers without having to pay the taxes on it," Inspector Brackenreid clarified. "But it isn't safe to drink."
"So that was what was so 'special' about the case Ken delivered yesterday," Nina said. She shook her head. "I can't believe Michael would purchase something like that," she said.
"He may not have known," Julia said. "The bottle looks identical to any other Parkington Whiskey bottle-same brown bottle, same label."
"On the outside, yes," Murdoch said, pouring a glass from the bottle, and holding it to the light. The liquid inside, instead of being the golden amber of a whiskey, was colored a strange shade of gray.
"That does not look appetizing," George noted. "How on earth do you get that color?"
Murdoch held up a finger. "By adding a purple to yellow," he explained.
John's eyes widened. "Violet!" he exclaimed. "That's how they're telling the difference between the real stuff and the other-purple dye."
Murdoch nodded with a smile. "Exactly."
"What does all this have to do with Brendan Walsh and Alfie Dwyer then?" George asked.
There was a knock on Murdoch's door. The group turned to see Constable Higgins poking his head in the room. "Sir, my apologies," Higgins said hurriedly. "There's someone here to file a missing persons report."
"Did you forget how to use a pen, Higgins?" Inspector Brackenreid raised an eyebrow, annoyed at the interruption.
Higgins shook his head. "No, sir. The person who wants to file it, his name is Jacob Dwyer, for his father, Alfred."
"Dwyer?" George's eyes widened. "Dwyer's missing?"
"We need to find out what role Dwyer played at Parkington Whiskey," Murdoch said. "George, why don't you get back to the distillery and look around. It's Saturday, so there shouldn't be anyone around. Let's find out who had the keys to the denaturing room."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Nina asked. "I mean, look what happened last night!"
George gave her half a smile. "I'll be fine, Nina," he told her. "As I mentioned, I've been hit harder."
"Whoever hit him won't be expectin' him to be up and around," Inspector Brackenreid added. "That hard head of his'll do him a solid."
Nina nodded, but George noticed her grip on his arm tightened. He reached over and put his hand on top of hers reassuringly.
"John, I think it's high time we bring in Connor O'Neill and make him tell us just exactly what he and Mr. Walsh were arguing about the night he was killed," Murdoch ordered.
"Yes sir," John nodded, standing.
"May want to take Jackson with you," George suggested. "Higgins as well. Connor's friends with two other wily Irishmen who might not take kindly to their friend being brought in."
John looked at his father, who thought a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Agreed."
"Inspector, can you get ahold of the Mayor and City Hall? Perhaps they can issue some kind of bulletin to anywhere in town that receives whiskey from Parkington. Discreetly, of course, since we don't have 100% proof yet."
"I'll see what I can do," Inspector Brackenreid said.
"Time is of the essence," Murdoch said. "We need to stop this before any more of that poisonous batch of whiskey gets out into Toronto."
Author's Note: So denaturing alcohol is a thing, it's how things like rubbing alcohol and industrial cleaners and solvents with it in it doesn't get taxed like alcohol used for recreational use, and the one example I did find online was in fact tinted purple. I don't promise I got the science 100% right. Denatured alcohol was also made during Prohibition in the US (which is a few years after this story takes place in MM time), and people did die from methanol poisoning. It makes for an interesting read.