A Quarter to Seven

0:00 Sleet and a Landlord's Letter

0:04 Watson: From the case log. February, two thousand and twenty-two. Brooklyn. A Wednesday evening, the fourth, sleet ticking at the front windows and the radiator knocking like a tenant with a grievance. For three weeks Holmes and I had fought nothing more dangerous than our landlord. Tonight he sat by the fire with a legal pad, while I read the landlord's lawyer's latest letter aloud off my phone.

0:29 Watson: "The tenants' commercial use of the premises is evidenced by numerous public online reviews." Holmes: Commercial use. One would think we sold pretzels from the stoop.

0:40 Watson: He quotes them. "Rude, but correct. Top marks."

0:45 Holmes: A fair witness. I'll call her for the defence. Watson: And this one. "Strange chemical smell on the stairs. Worth it."

0:54 Holmes: That was your omelette, Watson. Watson: That was your sulphur, and you know it. Please write something civil.

1:02 Holmes: "Dear sir. Your client's building stands chiefly on our reputation." Watson: You're not sending that.

1:10 Holmes: I'm drafting. Drafting is not sending. Watson: Your phone. It's buzzing right on top of the rebuttal.

1:18 Holmes: A Manhattan precinct. At this hour. Yes?

1:23 Pomeroy: Holmes, don't hang up. Captain Pomeroy, Homicide. Tell me you've seen the—

1:27 Holmes: The news? I've seen a landlord's lawyer. What's happened?

1:31 Pomeroy: The killing outside the Carter Hotel this morning. It's buried my squad in tips. Holmes: I can hear them, Captain. Every phone on your floor.

1:42 Pomeroy: I need you over the bridge tonight. Watson: Over the bridge. In sleet.

1:47 Holmes: By midnight every armchair detective in America will have a theory, Watson, and every witness will have read them all. I'd be cross-examining the internet. Pomeroy: I heard that. That's my whole trouble.

2:00 Holmes: Then what are you— Pomeroy: Help. Too many leads, not too few. I need somebody to throw most of 'em out.

2:07 Watson: Well, that's a new one. Holmes: Subtraction. Now that appeals. Captain, where do I find you?

2:15 Pomeroy: Midtown North. Front desk'll have your names. Don't make me wait.

2:19 Holmes: We'll be there within the hour. Watson: And the lawyer? Holmes: The lawyer will keep. Drafting, remember, isn't sending. Coat, Watson. I'll be on the stoop hailing a car.

2:31 Watson: From the case log: we left the fire lit, the rebuttal unsigned, and the landlord, for once, uncontradicted.

2:40 Three Steps from the Door

2:43 Watson: Pomeroy had skipped the precinct and met us outside the Carter, a little before eleven, in the glare of the television lights. Pomeroy: Holmes. Doc. Mind the tape. Right here's where he went down.

2:56 Watson: Three steps short of the hotel door. Pomeroy: Quarter to seven this morning. Gordon Haverly, runs Harborline Health. Walking in early to his own investor meeting.

3:07 Holmes: And the man who shot him? Pomeroy: Mask, hood, gray jacket. Steps up behind him, fires, walks off like he's got a train to catch.

3:17 Watson: From behind, that close. He'd have been down before he understood a thing. Pomeroy: Yeah. Then an e-bike off the corner. Into the park. Gone.

3:28 Holmes: And the vans? They didn't come for a sidewalk. Pomeroy: They came for this. Same jacket turns up on a hostel lobby camera, Upper West Side. Mask down.

3:40 Watson: He's smiling. Grainy as a bad photocopy, but grinning. Holmes: He masks himself on this street, then bares his face under a lobby camera. That lobby felt like home to him.

3:52 Pomeroy: Or he's cocky. Some punk who— Holmes: No. Cocky men skip the mask, Captain. He was careful here and easy there.

4:01 Pomeroy: We put it out at noon. Eleven hundred calls since. His barber. His ex. A guy in Tampa.

4:09 Watson: Good grief. Holmes: So the photo's not helping. It's burying you.

4:16 Pomeroy: Whole city knows his smile, Holmes. Nobody knows his name...

4:22 The Ballroom Set for Four Hundred

4:26 Watson: Upstairs, the ballroom stood set for four hundred investors who would never sit down, and one woman was clearing it alone. Annette: Ballroom's closed, hon. If you're press, the stairs are behind you.

4:38 Watson: Not press. Dr. Watson; this is Sherlock Holmes. The captain sent us.

4:44 Annette: Annette. I'm his— I was his assistant. Eleven years. Talk while I pack, or don't.

4:52 Holmes: You've boxed every name card on the head table but one. Annette: I'll get to it. Holmes: You've been getting to it through a whole roll of tape.

5:01 Annette: You came up here to count my tape? Holmes: To ask about Mr Haverly. Did he walk in every morning?

5:08 Annette: Every morning he could. No driver. An hour early, coffee off the cart on the corner.

5:13 Watson: His security can't have loved that. Annette: They begged him. He said a man who can't walk one block in Manhattan shouldn't run a company.

5:24 Holmes: Then whoever waited on that sidewalk knew his hour. Nobody finds one man on one corner by chance. Annette: So somebody watched him. Like a— like a bus schedule.

5:37 Watson: Leave the card. Someone else can box it. Annette: No. I put it out myself, I spelled it right, it should be me, I just— my hands won't—

5:45 Watson: Take a minute. Take as long as you need. Annette: His wife keeps asking if he suffered. I keep saying no...

5:54 The Command Van After Midnight

5:58 Watson: Pomeroy's command van idled on Sixth Avenue past midnight, windows fogged, the three of us knee to knee at a fold-down table. Holmes: Captain. What have you kept from the press?

6:09 Pomeroy: Who says I kept— Holmes: Oh, come. Your case is on every screen in the country. You'd be a fool not to, and you aren't one.

6:18 Pomeroy: Evidence log, item four. Three cartridge cases, picked up by the body. Holmes: Ah.

6:26 Watson: The papers said shots, plural, and left it there. Pomeroy: On each case, in black marker, one word. Refused.

6:36 Watson: Refused. Like a claim. Pomeroy: Like a claim. Harborline turns down plenty.

6:43 Holmes: Is the ink smeared? Any of it? Pomeroy: Clean on all three. Neat little capitals.

6:49 Holmes: Then it wasn't scrawled on a cold sidewalk with shaking hands. He lettered it at a table, at leisure, before he ever set out. Watson: Tidy fellow.

7:00 Pomeroy: And it stays in this van. By Friday I'll have twenty guys confessing. The one who knows that word, I listen to.

7:08 Holmes: And the papers know nothing? Pomeroy: The papers don't know there's writing on them at all. Not one reporter has that word. Keep it that way.

7:17 Holmes: Understood.

7:19 The Night Clerk's Footage

7:23 Watson: We found the hostel's front desk off Amsterdam Avenue the next afternoon, the clerk already cueing her lobby footage. Fidelma: You'll be the detective. Fidelma, on the desk. The police had me play this a dozen times.

7:37 Holmes: You're on nights. That's a night-shift flask, and you've come in early for us. Fidelma: Early, yes. And it's tea in it, I'm not a savage.

7:46 Watson: There he is. Hood up, mask down, grinning. Fidelma: A grin under a hood, that's all. Any one of forty guests, and the half of them in that jacket.

7:57 Holmes: The camera's above your head, and his eyes are lower than the lens. He's smiling at whoever stood where you stand. Fidelma: Well. That'd be— that'd be me, so.

8:08 Holmes: Who did you make smile? Fidelma: Sure, everyone. Two Danish girls. A Cork lad who cried at check-in. A big quiet fella I teased about his name.

8:18 Watson: What was wrong with his name? Fidelma: Wren, on his license. A tiny brown bird, and him the size of a wardrobe.

8:27 Holmes: And that made him smile. Fidelma: Not at first. Then shy, like, and he said that name was his mother's, so I'd better be nice to it.

8:37 Watson: Sweet thing to tell a stranger. Fidelma: Lovely manners. Came the Saturday, four nights, paid up front.

8:44 Holmes: And is any one of them the face on the— Fidelma: Could be. Could be the Cork lad. Could be my brother. Forty hoods a night, Mr Holmes. I smile at all of them.

8:55 The Man with the Braced Wrist

8:58 Watson: Down the corridor, the common room television ran the manhunt on a loop, and a guest with a braced wrist sat arguing back at it. Rhys: There it's again. Same photo, eleventh time this hour. You blokes cops?

9:13 Watson: Not quite. I'm Watson, he's Holmes. And you are?

9:17 Rhys: Rhys. Sydney, originally. Currently, this couch.

9:22 Holmes: That wrist came off a bicycle. A graze on the heel of the hand, and a clinic's brace, not a drugstore's. Rhys: E-bike, mate. Pothole on Second Avenue. Not bad.

9:33 Watson: Scaphoid? Rhys: Sprain, they reckon. Took them four hours and eleven thousand dollars to reckon it.

9:40 Watson: For a sprain? Rhys: An X-ray, a brace, a bloke in a white coat for six minutes. Insurance knocked it back. Pre-existing, apparently. My wrist was pre-existing!

9:52 Holmes: And the vans outside? Rhys: Can't get a coffee without a— without a camera up my nose. They keep asking if any of us knew the smiling bloke.

10:00 Watson: Did you? Rhys: Every second guy in here owns that jacket. I own that jacket.

10:07 Watson: Oh dear. Holmes: Then I'd stop wearing it for a while. Rhys: Why, because I'm— because I'm Australian and broke? They'll want a foreigner in cuffs by Friday, you watch.

10:19 Dripping on the Doormat

10:22 Watson: Close to midnight, Fidelma had the register open on her counter, and Pomeroy, summoned by Holmes, stood dripping on the mat. Pomeroy: You dragged me up Amsterdam for a guest book, Holmes? Holmes: For one night of it. The night before the shooting.

10:39 Fidelma: Tuesday, so. Seven in. The Danes, I told you about the Danes—

10:43 Pomeroy: Skip the Danes. Fidelma: Past eleven, the Australian. Wrist in a brace, soaked through, cross as a wet cat.

10:51 Watson: Rhys. We met him this afternoon. Fidelma: He'd a letter in his fist, Harborline across the top, and he slapped it down and told the whole lobby they'll pay for my hospital bill, one way or another.

11:03 Pomeroy: One way or another. Fidelma: I took it for temper. It was only— it was only temper, wasn't it?

11:10 Holmes: You remember it word for word. So he wasn't muttering. He wanted the room to hear.

11:16 Pomeroy: Or he wanted to say it out loud once before he— Watson: No. He told us about that bill himself, Captain. Eleven thousand dollars. A man hiding a motive doesn't hand it to strangers.

11:27 Pomeroy: Angry, broke, here the night before, and Haverly's company on his bill. That's plenty, Doc. Rhys: Fidelma, is the kitchen still— oh. Evening. Again.

11:42 Pomeroy: Captain Pomeroy, NYPD. Sit down a minute. Rhys: Me? I'm right standing, thanks.

11:49 Pomeroy: Where were you at a quarter to seven Wednesday morning, son?

11:55 Beneath the Desk Lamp

11:58 Watson: The back office was a cupboard of lost umbrellas and a single desk lamp, and Pomeroy sat Rhys down beneath it. Pomeroy: Tuesday night you tell a whole lobby they'll pay for my hospital bill. Wednesday morning their boss is on the sidewalk.

12:15 Rhys: That was the letter talking, mate. That was— look, eleven grand for a sprain, you'd shout too. Pomeroy: One way or another, you said.

12:24 Rhys: I meant lawyers! Complaints! Writing to some bloke's—

12:27 Watson: Captain— look at that wrist. He can barely hold a coffee, let alone a pistol. Pomeroy: He's got another hand, Doc. Quarter to seven, Wednesday. Where?

12:39 Rhys: Asleep. I was— asleep. Upstairs. Bunk by the window.

12:43 Holmes: The toe of your left shoe is scuffed to the canvas. That's a pedal, every morning, and plenty of them. Pomeroy: Huh.

12:51 Rhys: Fine. Fine. I was out on the bike.

12:55 Pomeroy: Out where? Rhys: The park. Top to bottom, early...

13:01 Pomeroy: The same park the shooter rode into. Rhys: It's a huge park, half of New York rides through it — Pomeroy: At dawn. On the fourth.

13:09 Rhys: Yes, at dawn, I went just to see the sunrise, alright? Last week in the city, I wanted one decent — I didn't shoot anybody. I can't breathe in here.

13:19 Watson: Slow breaths. In through the nose. You're all right.

13:23 Holmes: Wednesday came up gray as wet cement, Rhys. Nobody in this city saw a sunrise. Rhys: Then I picked a bad morning! Is that a crime here as well?

13:33 Holmes: No. Lying about it's merely foolish. And you're lying. Watson: Holmes, the boy's—

13:40 Holmes: Frightened and lying, Watson. He's both. Arrest him, Captain. Whatever he did at that hour, he'll tell it sooner from a cell.

13:49 Forty Lenses at Noon

13:52 Watson: By Friday noon the charge had been read on the precinct steps before forty lenses, and that afternoon we sat with Pomeroy in his van while the tip line rang. Pomeroy: Tip desk sends me anything with the hostel and the Aussie in it. Mostly psychics.

14:07 Watson: The last one saw him in a dream. Wearing a crown. Pomeroy: Pomeroy, Homicide. You're on speaker.

14:15 Corwin: Captain, hi. My name's Corwin. I'm a draftsman, I was down in the city for job interviews. I'm calling from Millbrook, Ohio, about the guy you charged.

14:25 Pomeroy: Go ahead, Corwin. Watson: Rough time to be looking. Corwin: Tell me about it. Anyway, I was at the hostel all weekend, and that Australian —

14:33 Pomeroy: Braced wrist? Big mouth? Corwin: That's him. Slapping letters on the desk, cursing Harborline at anybody standing still. Scared the two Danish girls half to death.

14:43 Holmes: Corwin, this is Sherlock Holmes. How did you know they were Danish? Corwin: They told me. Copenhagen. Nice kids, matching backpacks.

14:52 Pomeroy: Keep your phone on, Corwin. We'll be in touch. Corwin: Anything I can do. That poor man's family, you know...

15:00 Watson: Draftsmen notice things. Measuring is the whole trade. Holmes: He's stood in that lobby and talked to those girls. That much of it's certainly true.

15:10 Pomeroy: Corroboration, Holmes. Tell the cameras we've got our man.

15:16 Lilies in the Dead Man's Suite

15:19 Watson: The dead man's suite upstairs at the Carter was banked with lilies from strangers, and Annette knelt on the carpet among the file boxes. Annette: You again. If it's to tell me they caught him, I saw it on TV, hon.

15:33 Holmes: It's about the man they caught. Rhys. An eleven-thousand-dollar claim, denied as pre-existing. Did it ever reach Mr Haverly?

15:41 Annette: Oh, for Pete's sake. A claim that size never reaches this floor. That's a form letter from a cubicle in another state.

15:49 Holmes: So you never heard his name. Annette: Never. In eleven years, not one claim came upstairs with a name on it.

15:57 Watson: That folder. You've kept it off every pile since we walked in. Annette: That's nobody's business.

16:04 Holmes: It's the only paper in this room without a Harborline seal. Your company's speeches go through a committee. That one didn't.

16:12 Annette: No. He— he had me type his speech alone, door shut, Sunday night. No comms people. No lawyers.

16:21 Watson: For the investor meeting? Annette: For Wednesday morning. It was going to change company policy. Big. That's all you get.

16:30 Holmes: Who else knew it existed? Annette: Him and me. Nobody else.

16:34 Holmes: Then read it to me. Annette: No. Watson: His widow might want —

16:39 Annette: His widow can ask me herself. It was his to say. Nobody will hear it now...

16:46 Candles Where He Fell

16:49 Watson: Toward dusk Holmes and I walked back to the sidewalk where it happened, now a drift of candles, flowers and rain-soft cards. Holmes: The coffee cart's back. Whoever waited for him stood beside it, the one spot on this block where a man can idle at dawn without being noticed.

17:06 Watson: Holmes, two things keep bothering me. Holmes: Such as? Watson: The Australian, wrist strapped, pedaling the park in the dark for a view of the sky.

17:17 Holmes: A sky that never showed itself. Watson: And Fidelma's quiet giant with the bird's name, who told her it came from his mother. Holmes: A hostel is full of men with mothers, Watson.

17:29 Watson: A man who'd just shot someone doesn't volunteer that he rode the— Holmes: He does if he fears a camera saw him. Rhys stays where he is until his dawn is accounted for.

17:38 Watson: So whose mother was a Wren, Holmes?

17:42 Back to the Front Desk

17:45 Watson: Evening found us at the hostel counter once more, Fidelma licking a thumb through the register while Pomeroy drummed beside the bell. Pomeroy: Corwin. First name, last name, I don't care. Saturday through Tuesday.

17:58 Fidelma: I've done Saturday twice, Captain. No Corwin. Not that weekend, not that week, not this month.

18:05 Pomeroy: Guys crash on a buddy's floor. These places leak like a colander. Fidelma: Not past me they don't.

18:14 Holmes: Read me Wren. Fidelma: Wren. In Saturday, four nights, paid. His card went out the front door Wednesday morning at twenty to— yes, twenty to six. And never came back in.

18:29 Holmes: He paid for four nights before he'd slept one. He knew his leaving day before he arrived. Pomeroy: So?

18:37 Watson: Your caller gave us a town, Captain. Corwin, Millbrook. Let's see what a search makes of it.

18:43 Pomeroy: Doc, every crank in America has a name and a— Watson: Here. A death notice. Millbrook, this spring. A woman of sixty-one, born Wren.

18:55 Fidelma: Wren? Watson: It names her only son, Corwin, a draftsman, who fought to the last for the cancer treatment her insurer refused. Holmes: A mother born Wren. And a son with no bed anywhere in this book.

19:10 Fidelma: Oh. Oh, no... Pomeroy: Half the country's had a claim turned down. Wren's a common name. Rhys stays charged.

19:20 A Canvass Across the Table

19:23 Watson: Well after midnight the canvass came in, and Pomeroy spread it across his van's little table, the heater curling every page. Pomeroy: My guys walked every camera from that hostel to the Carter. Delis, a bank, two garages.

19:39 Holmes: Start with Sunday. Pomeroy: Ten to six in the morning. Hood up, gray jacket, out the hostel door. Half past six he's on the block, by the coffee cart.

19:52 Watson: Just where you said he'd stand. Holmes: Watching the door, at the hour Haverly kept. And Monday?

19:58 Pomeroy: Same walk, same cart, same minutes. He was scouting before Rhys ever checked in. Watson: Sunday and Monday. Both inside Wren's four—

20:09 Pomeroy: I heard you, Doc. I heard you at the desk, too. Holmes: Phone your witness, Captain. Ask him to come and sign. Not a word about any of this.

20:20 Pomeroy: Corwin? Captain Pomeroy. Sorry about the hour.

20:24 Corwin: No, I'm up. Draftsman's hours. What do you need?

20:28 Pomeroy: You told us you were at the hostel all weekend, and the Australian with you. I need that on paper, signed, here in the city. Corwin: Sure, that's how it was. I'll get the first bus out in the morning. Where do I go?

20:41 Pomeroy: Ask for me by name. We'll find you. Corwin: I'll be there. Glad to help, Captain.

20:47 Pomeroy: It isn't Rhys. Clear him. Our star witness saw a man who wasn't there.

20:54 Gray Light on the Steps

20:58 Watson: Gray light was just touching Midtown North when Pomeroy walked Rhys out to the front steps, laces back in his shoes. Rhys: Mr Holmes! Hang on a sec.

21:08 Pomeroy: You're cleared, son. Go home. Rhys: The captain read it off a sheet: the bloke was scouting before Rhys ever checked in. Like I wasn't sitting right there.

21:18 Holmes: And you've stopped me to say something else. Rhys: The park. It wasn't just to see the sunrise.

21:25 Holmes: I know. There wasn't one. Rhys: Breakfast runs. Bagels and coffee, west side to east, cash in hand.

21:34 Holmes: Through the park, the only straight line across. Paid by the delivery, so you rode hard enough to wear through a shoe. Rhys: Eight bucks a drop. And no work permit.

21:45 Pomeroy: Oh, boy. Watson: You'd sooner sit in a cell for murder than own up to bagels? Rhys: I didn't do the murder. They deport you for the bagels.

21:57 Pomeroy: I'm Homicide. I never heard the word bagel in my life. Holmes: I was wrong about the man, Rhys, and right about the lie. Next time, lead with the bagels.

22:07 Rhys: Next time I'll be in Sydney. Pomeroy: Now I go tell forty cameras I had the wrong man.

22:16 The Empty Interview Room

22:20 Watson: The interview room stood empty after Rhys, two chairs and a smell of burnt coffee, and Holmes sat in the one still warm. Corwin's bus from Millbrook lands at noon. Pomeroy means to meet it himself.

22:33 Holmes: Then we have the morning. Eyes shut. Hand me things one at a time.

22:38 Watson: Fidelma texted. Wren's key card went out her front door at ten to six, Sunday and Monday both. Holmes: The camera's minutes, exactly. Next.

22:49 Watson: The lab, on the bullets. Marks no factory barrel leaves. Printed, they think. No serial number, no sale, nothing to trace.

22:59 Holmes: Something drawn to a thousandth of an inch and made at home. Next. Watson: Millbrook. A mother born Wren. A son named Corwin, a draftsman.

23:11 Holmes: Beside it, the man on the telephone, swearing he watched the Australian in that lobby from Saturday— Watson: But the Danes checked in Tuesday. Same night as Rhys.

23:19 Holmes: So he stood beside those girls on Tuesday, at least. Then whose weekend at that hostel was he describing, Watson?

23:28 Noon at the Bus Terminal

23:32 Watson: The Millbrook coach pulled into the bus terminal just after twelve, and Fidelma waited at the gate between Holmes and Pomeroy, her scarf up to her chin. Corwin: Captain Pomeroy? Corwin. Good to put a face to the voice.

23:45 Pomeroy: Long ride. Thanks for coming. Fidelma: Hello again, Wren.

23:49 Corwin: Sorry, ma'am. You've— you've got me mixed up with somebody. Fidelma: The size of a wardrobe and still shy. I'd know you in the dark.

23:58 Holmes: Her register has no Corwin in it, all that weekend. It has a Wren. Corwin: I crashed on a guy's floor. I— I just hung around the lobby, is all.

24:08 Pomeroy: Uh-huh. Fidelma: I teased you about a little brown bird, and you went pink and told me that name was your mother's. Holmes: Your mother was born Wren. Her notice ran in Millbrook this—

24:19 Corwin: Leave my mother out of this. Holmes: Gladly. The casings, then. Three, by the body. What do you suppose the captain kept back?

24:29 Corwin: Refused. Black marker, capitals, so nobody could misread — Pomeroy: Not one reporter has that word, and I never once said it to you.

24:39 Watson: Neat capitals. A draftsman's hand. Holmes: "So nobody could misread it." You weren't describing what you saw, Corwin. You were describing what you meant.

24:50 Corwin: Two hundred thousand dollars. That's what they said no to. The doctor said there was a chance, a real —

24:56 Watson: For your mother. Corwin: I drew her appeals like blueprints. Every page. Every— three times the same letter came back.

25:05 Fidelma: Ah, God. Corwin: She died with the last one on her nightstand, asking me what she'd done wrong... Fidelma: And you smiled at me, at my desk. I was— I was flirting with you.

25:18 Corwin: You were kind about her name. Nobody'd been kind in a year. Pomeroy: Corwin, you're under arrest for the murder of Gordon Haverly.

25:26 Corwin: She was refused. He wasn't.

25:31 The Last Entry in the Log

25:34 Watson: From the case log, last entry: near ten at night our Brooklyn rooms held Annette, on the sofa with the plain folder, and Pomeroy, thawing his hands at the fire. Annette: His wife asked me to bring it, hon. He trusted me to type his speech alone, she said, so I'm the one who reads it.

25:54 Pomeroy: Whenever you're ready, ma'am. Annette: "As of this morning, I am ordering every refused cancer claim reviewed. Every one, three years back. By doctors, not forms. Where we were wrong, we pay."

26:09 Watson: Three years back. Then Corwin's mother's claim— Holmes: Would have been on that list. Corwin shot the one man walking in to say yes.

26:18 Annette: And the boy never knew. Pomeroy: His statement's signed. Twelve pages, and never once Haverly's name. Just "him."

26:28 Watson: Why ring the tip line at all? Rhys was charged. Corwin was home free.

26:33 Holmes: He couldn't leave the door half shut. So he swore to a weekend Rhys never spent. Watson: Then it was never the word that caught him. It was the name.

26:42 Holmes: He gave Fidelma his mother's maiden name, to be kind back. Your Millbrook notice named her only son, Corwin. The word only made him confess it.

26:52 Watson: And the gun? Pomeroy: State troopers searched his place this afternoon. Three-D printer on the kitchen table. Pistol and silencer in a toolbox under the bed.

27:02 Annette: He'd have read it beautifully. That's all. He'd have— he'd have read it beautifully...

27:08 Watson: For the log, then. One name too many, given at a hostel desk. Corwin charged with murder, the printed pistol recovered.