At the Rochestor mansion, in the parlour room.
Murdoch: I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour.
Patricia: It's all right, I couldn't sleep anyways. What did you want to speak to me about?
Murdoch: Your fiance.
Patricia: (confused) Donald? What about him?
Murdoch: Tell me Miss Rochestor, was there any animosity between Mr. Kimble and your father?
Patricia: (glances away) Well...
Murdoch: Yes? Go on.
Patricia: Father didn't exactly approve of Donald. He said he wasn't good enough for me. He said he'd disinherit me if we got married. (wide eyed) Wait a minute...surely you're not suggesting that Donald had something to do with father's death? I thought he died of old age?
Murdoch: I'm afraid he was injected with enough heroin to kill several young men.
Patricia: I can't believe this! I knew that vile drug would lead to no good!
Murdoch: You knew of his habits then?
Patricia: Everyone in the household knew of them.
Murdoch: Including Donald?
Patricia: I suppose he could have known. Where is he?
Murdoch: We have yet to determine that but it appears that he has fled.
Patricia: (loses some self control) I can't believe he killed father! I won't believe it! There's got to be another explanation!
Murdoch: Perhaps but you must admit that he had the motive.
Patricia: No, he didn't do this! He didn't care about the money! He was happy to be poor as long as we were together!
In Mr. Rochestor's bedroom. Murdoch and George are searching the room.
Butler: What are you looking for, detective?
Murdoch: Mr. Rochestor's heroin needles.
Butler: (shocked) I'm afraid you must be mistaken detective.
Murdoch: Come now, sir, the need for deception is over. The evidence was present on his body.
Butler: I see. (begrudgingly) He kept them under his bed, beneath a loose floorboard.
Murdoch: George. (he goes to retrieve it and hands a box to Murdoch) Was that where you found the box after Mr. Rochestor's death?
Butler: (looks guilty) No, it was still out on his bedside table. As was the needle.
Murdoch: In other words, you meddled with a crime scene.
Butler: I'd hardly call what I did meddling.
Murdoch: What would you call it, Mr. Milton?
Butler: My duty to my employer, nothing more.
Murdoch: So you didn't hide it because you were involved in his death?
Butler: (wide eyed) Certainly not, detective. The sheer notion of such a thing repulses me to my inner core.
Murdoch: I hope for your sake, you're telling the truth. Come along, George.
At the precinct in Murdoch's office.
Murdoch is inspecting the heroin needles, dusting them for prints.
George: Any luck, sir?
Murdoch: No, I'm afraid not, George. All of the fingermarks belong to Mr. Rochestor. None of them were wiped down.
George: The killer could have worn gloves.
Murdoch: Yes, that's possible. (drifts off into thought)
George: Uh, sir? Sir?
Murdoch: (snaps out of it) Yes, George?
George: I know it's late but I was wondering if I could talk to you about a personal matter.
Murdoch: Close the door, George. (closes it) What seems to be the matter?
George: It's about Ruby.
Murdoch: Oh?
George: (awkwardly) How do you know when you're in love? How did you know?
Murdoch: (raises eyebrows) I just knew.
George: (agitated) Come on, sir, I need a little more to go on than that! (Murdoch frowns at him) I mean, can you explain yourself better please?
Murdoch: Do you enjoy being with her more than anyone else you've ever met?
George: I'd say so.
Murdoch: Do you think about her constantly?
George: Yes.
Murdoch: Would you do anything for her?
George: (getting excited) Absolutely!
Murdoch: Then you might be in love.
George: (crestfallen) Might be? What more could there be?
Murdoch: Not having to ask others whether or not you're in love.
George: Oh.
In Brackenreid's office.
Brackenreid: (swirling a glass of whiskey) What's on your mind Murdoch?
Murdoch: Something's not adding up here, sir.
Brackenreid: How so?
Murdoch: If Mr. Kimble wanted to get rid of Mr. Rochestor so he couldn't stand in the way of Patricia's inheritance, then why flee? Why make it appear that he died due to an accidental over dose and then act so suspiciously?
Brackenreid: Maybe he panicked?
Murdoch: It's possible, I suppose.
Brackenreid: (stands up and drinks the rest of his whiskey) Well, it looks like we may be getting some answers very soon.
They see two men struggling in the foyer. One is tied up. Both Murdoch and Brackenreid head over there.
Man 1: Let me go! This is an outrage!
Brackenreid: Oye! What's going on here? Who the bloody hell are you lot?
Man 2: (restraining the other man) That's a very good question. My name is John Marston. (holds up the other man's head by his hair) Meet Donald Kimble. I believe you two have met before?
They look at the other man more closely. He has black hair, glasses and a glass eye. Both eyes are blue.
Brackenreid: I don't recognize him.
Murdoch: (intensely focused, has a bunch of flashbacks involving a man and a dummy) This is Mycroft Grimesby! (the man doesn't respond to the name) I'm sure of it!
Brackenreid: Bloody Hell! I think you're right Murdoch!
John: Of course he's right. I'd hate to think that after five years of chasing him, I'd caught the wrong man!
Murdoch: You are a bounty hunter then?
John: (nods and smiles) Come to finally collect his reward!
While Brackenreid holds on to the squirming man, Murdoch and the bounty hunter have a removed conversation.
Murdoch: Where did you find him? Our constables were unable to.
John: In a hunting cabin in the woods. He likes to lay low for awhile before making his escapes.
Murdoch: How is it that you've only just managed to catch him?
John: He's a slippery bastard that one is. Always changing his disguises and names. Always moving around. I've chased this bastard clean across the goddamn country!
Murdoch: So what changed? Why would he risk coming back here, to where it all started?
John: (smirks) Why love of course, detective. What else?
In the interrogation room.
Murdoch: How nice to see you again after all this time, Mycroft.
Man 1: You must be mistaken. My name is Kimble. Donald Kimble. Ask my fiancee, she'll confirm this for you.
Murdoch: (smiles) Oh, I have no doubt that she would.
Man 1: Well, there you go! I can't possibly be this Mycroft person then.
Murdoch: I'm afraid nothing less than a birth certificate would satisfy me in this regard. Do you have access to one?
Man 1: No. But who does? Nobody, that's who!
Murdoch: Exactly my point Mycroft.
Man 1: This is ridiculous! (stands up) I demand to leave now!
Murdoch: Sit down please.
Man 1: No!
Brackenreid: (barges in looking and sounding menacing) I'd do as the detective says, sunshine.
Man 1: All right. (sits down)
Murdoch: Can we forgo this weak attempt at deception now?
Man 1: (no response)
Murdoch: If you are who you say you are, then why were you hiding out in a cabin?
Man 1: (no response)
Brackenreid: (aggressively) This is pointless Murdoch! (rolls back his sleeves) This monster needs some encouragement!
Murdoch: One moment inspector, if you please.
Brackenreid: (grumbles) Fine.
Murdoch: (looks directly into his eyes) Patricia thinks you killed her father.
Man 1: What? That's a lie! She would never believe that!
Murdoch: Are you sure about that?
Man 1: (silence)
Brackenreid: (savagely) If you don't confess to being Mycroft, I'll make sure you never get to see her again!
Man 1: Fine! You got me inspector. I'm this Mycroft person. Let me see Patricia now so I can explain the situation to her. I couldn't bear it if she were thinking ill of me.
Brackenreid: (laughs) That's just not going to happen, you bastard!
Mycroft: Damn you! Damn you to hell!
George takes Mycroft away to the holding cells.
Brackenreid: Well that was easier than I expected.
Murdoch: Indeed. I wonder...
Brackenreid: What?
Murdoch: Maybe he truly does love her?
Brackenreid: (shocked) You can't be serious, Murdoch! He's a devious sociopath! He tricked all of us last time, don't let him do it again! This is all just for show! The bastards not capable of real love!
Murdoch: You're right of course. I don't know what I was thinking.
Brackenreid: You weren't. You're exhausted. We all are. Let's all go home and get some rest and continue this in the morning. (smirks) Or the afternoon instead.
Murdoch: But sir, there are still so many things to determine. I-
Brackenreid: (severely) Go home to your wife, Murdoch. That's an order.
Murdoch: Very well, sir.
At the Murdoch residence, in the bedroom. Murdoch is tossing and turning. Julia turns on a light.
Julia: What's wrong, William? (puts her head on his shoulder)
Murdoch: This case is bothering me.
Julia: That's perfectly understandable. You had quite a surprise tonight. It's not every day a fugitive is dropped at your doorstep.
Murdoch: It's more than that. There are many things that aren't making sense to me.
Julia: William, I promise that if you go to sleep now, things will become clearer to you in the morning.
Murdoch: How can you promise such a thing?
Julia: (smiles) Because I'm your wife and I never lie. And I'm never wrong.
Murdoch: (smiles) I knew it would be fortuitous of me to marry you. Such sage advice.
Julia: Now go to sleep.
Murdoch: I'd love to Julia but my mind is racing too much.
Julia: (smiles) I might be able to help with that.
Murdoch: (smiles) Yes, very fortuitous indeed.