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Original subtitles

WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.MY-SUBS.com -

Consider this my resignation.

I'm no longer Detective Murdoch of Station House Number Four.

Mathilda Crisp.

She is my ward and she is missing.

I need her found.

I don't think your aunt is sick at all.

She brings me across the Atlantic for conversation?

Stop!

The anarchists are my friends. They would never betray me.

Sometimes a million dollars

can make people betray their friends.

But, look, right here,

it appears as though they are abducting her.

Is she lying?

You're a very clever man.

Didn't I tell you he was a clever man?

- Good work, Mr. Murdoch. - Julia?

Please, we have a child at home.

As long as you cooperate, your child will remain safe.

- No, you-you can't... - No!

Is the inspector there?

Tell him the detective and his wife have gone missing.

I don't know where they are.

Are we moving?

Help! Help!

Still no news of the Murdochs?

Nothing.

You'll find them.

I'm not so sure, Effie. It's been two weeks. Just not a clue.

I never should have taken this inspector job.

- It was a terrible idea. - George...

I'd wager there's nobody better for the position.

I highly doubt that.

- I've got something. - What is it?

I found one of the anarchists. He's in the cells.

I'll be right there.

Looks like your luck's changing.

I'll reserve judgement on that for now.

Crabtree...

What am I doing here?

I just have a couple of questions.

So you threw me in a cell?

Constable Higgins got a little overeager. I apologize.

Not that I'll tell you anything, but...

what do you want to know?

You attended a rally a couple of weeks ago.

There was a young woman burning money.

There was a fight between you lot and the police.

The young woman fled the scene.

What was her name?

Why should I tell you?

Because if you don't, I'll throw you back in the cells.

- On what charges? - Oh, I'll think of something.

- You can't just... - I can be a little overeager myself.

Now you'd best just speak.

Her name was Mathilda Crisp.

Where can I find her?

Well, I've been through the entire property.

There's no one here and I'd wager

- that's been the case for some time. - No one?

No personal effects either.

I need to know who lived here.

- Henry, city records. - On it.

Crabtree.

It's Inspector Crabtree.

Yeah, Inspector.

As you like.

You might want to take a look at this.

Ugh...

Any idea what this is?

I believe that belongs to Detective Murdoch.

It's part of a-a...

A device he invented, a weaponized capacitor.

So, did the detective kill this poor chap?

If he did, I'm sure he had justifiable reason.

It doesn't answer the question as to where he is now.

Welcome.

Where are we?

And why have you brought us here?

All in good time.

I demand to know where our child is!

Neither you nor your husband are in a position to demand anything.

Now, I'll let you get cleaned up.

We have work to do.

Detective.

The home is under the name of a Lionel Bentley.

He's the dead man.

The anarchist mentioned a Mathilda Crisp.

Yes. Mr. Bentley was her legal guardian.

So she lived here?

Henry, honestly!

And what about their daughter, Susannah?

I don't know where she is.

- I hope to God she's with them. - Hmm.

- Where is she? - She's safe.

Where?!

You'll find out in due time.

- I want to know now! - Your concerns are not mine.

What do you want from us?

I need to save an innocent woman from the noose.

And you two are the ones to do it.

This is ridiculous.

- Let us go. - You're free to leave.

You can say goodbye to your daughter.

We will go to the authorities!

Again, you are free to make whatever choice you want,

but the wrong one will seal your child's fate.

- I... - Julia! Julia!

I understand your fury, but it changes nothing.

Where is this woman?

Just because we're working together it doesn't mean I like you.

Doesn't matter much to me.

Don't know why Inspector Crabtree kept you on.

Just proof of his good judgement.

Paul.

You might want to prepare yourself.

It's one person?

It would appear so.

Any identification?

- You're joking, right? - Who found the body?

I did. Covered what was left out of decency.

Good man.

Let's get it back to the morgue.

I hope George is up to this.

So do I.

We could dearly use the inspector, though.

We really should have told your aunt we were leaving.

I'm sure she'll be well aware by now.

Still, leaving in the middle of the night?

Murdoch and Julia are missing.

That matters more than my aunt's feelings.

Besides, she'd more than likely feign a heart attack

to get us to stay.

Lovely day.

It is.

- Now this is the way to travel. - Is it?

It's more pleasurable than traveling by train.

Lot bloody slower, though.

When are we due to arrive?

Twenty-four hours from now.

So, another day with this lot.

And after all of that, I simply had no choice

but to tell the fellow to take a flying leap!

Oh, uh, my apologies, ladies.

I'm sure he said it out of earshot.

I doubt he says much out of earshot.

Oh! Mr. Brackenreid,

are you sure you won't join us for a drink?

No, thank you.

Well, that's a first.

I just want to get back to Toronto and find Murdoch.

It's a shame the captain won't let us drop a line.

I caught a sturgeon in this river once.

Half a ton if it was an ounce.

Beast put up a whale of a fight.

Very clever.

Oh, oh! I see. Whale.

Sometimes I even surprise myself.

Just one, Mr. Brackenreid?

I swear I won't bite.

But I am a terrible liar.

She has some nerve, doesn't she?

Let's just get home, Margaret.

Well, this is delightful. And when was this found?

According to Constable Higgins, three hours ago.

Discovered in a park near Jarvis Street.

I need you to determine a cause of death.

It seems rather apparent; Wouldn't you say so?

Hmm. A time. Anything.

I'll do what I can.

Miss Hart, there you are.

You can't avoid me. This needs to be dealt with.

And I will deal with it.

Now.

Excuse me, what is your business here?

My name is William Harwell.

I represent the family of Arthur Carmichael in a civil proceeding.

Well, Miss Hart is assisting in a grave police matter.

Perhaps you could return at a more appropriate time?

I will not!

All right. Well, if you'd like,

I could charge you with interfering in a police investigation.

Miss Hart, I demand your attention on this matter!

Thank you, Llewellyn.

Ah, so you're finally here.

Well, let them in, Jeffrey.

Do sit down.

Apologies for the china,

but one has to make do, I suppose.

Oh, how appalling! Let me introduce myself:

Hilda Fanshaw.

Yes, well, I suppose I ought to apologize

for my methods, too, but...

Desperate times call for desperate measures, do they not?

And given that I am to meet my maker in three days,

these are indeed desperate times.

What do you want from us?

Didn't Atticus tell you?

I want you to save my life.

You're convicted of your husband's murder?

Indeed I am. Poor Frederick.

Did you do it?

The courts believe I did.

That's not an answer.

It's the only one that matters.

What do you propose we do?

Overturn my conviction.

Get me out of this dreary place.

How would we do that?

You and your wife...

Are experts in the field of criminal detection.

Find someone other than myself

responsible for the murder of my husband.

Even though you did it?

I never said that.

We will do no such thing.

Oh, well, it is your choice, of course.

But you have been made aware of the consequences.

I'm already doomed to die.

So, unlike you,

I have very little to lose.

That is Arnauld's watch. And his eyeglasses.

Your husband was the owner of Lepage Fabrications?

Yes.

Who would have done this to him?

Well, that's where we're hoping

you might be of some assistance.

Did your husband have any enemies?

Everyone in business has an enemy.

Arnauld was no exception.

Anyone in particular?

Oh, well...

Arnauld bought out his partner, Russell Wilson, two years ago.

It was what he called a hostile takeover.

I see.

But no one he knew could have done this.

Whoever did this was not human.

We need to go to the police.

And tell them what?

That we've been kidnapped.

- Th... that our child is being held. - No!

I won't put Susannah's life in danger, William!

I'm afraid it already is.

We just need to get that woman out of jail

and deal with the consequences later.

How?

Like she said, we wrote a bloody book about murder.

Let's just do what it takes to get her out!

Let's examine the evidence they have against her.

It's an honour.

The esteemed Detective William Murdoch!

- Thank you. - And what brings you here?

We're looking into the matter of Hilda Fanshaw.

To what end?

We believe she may have been wrongly convicted.

I'm not sure that's the case.

Over the last few years, we've been summoned

to the Fanshaw home on numerous occasions.

For what reason?

Various disputes of a, uh, domestic nature.

- Have there been any arrests? - There were not.

Neither wanted the attention of the public

- into their affairs. - Mm.

But you believe her to be responsible for her husband's death.

Given their history, she was our primary suspect.

I also discovered the poison to kill her husband in her possession.

In her possession?

Well, in her room.

And why would a Canadian policeman

be interested in any of this?

Oh! Uh, well, you may not be aware,

but I am no longer a member of the Toronto Constabulary.

We've been hired by Mrs. Fanshaw

to investigate the details of her conviction.

And you find her version of events credible?

Uh, we wouldn't have taken the case otherwise.

We may need to have a look at your case file.

Any assistance I can offer.

- Thank you. - Come with me.

I'm going to be sick.

We do what we need to do.

And how are we proceeding with the murder of Arnauld Lepage?

Well, we've just begun the investigation.

Has there been any progress?

Not as of yet, but we're hopeful.

Find out who did this.

Mr. Lepage was an important member of the Toronto business community.

His murder is your number one priority.

Yes, sir.

- Well, you heard the man. - Of course.

Did you find out anything about the business partner?

Ah, yes. He is holidaying in Paris, France;

has been for the last two months.

Right. Then, for the time being,

we'll eliminate his involvement. Henry!

Why don't you take Miss Hart to the park

where Lepage's body was found?

Perhaps that could help drum up a clue.

Absolutely. I was just about to step out for lunch, though.

Well, you could have your lunch when you get back, Henry.

Fine.

I would say it's unlikely that he was killed here.

Would have made for quite a spectacle if he was.

I found traces of engine oil and lubricants

- on what was left of his body. - Hmm.

Not something that a factory owner

would come in contact with.

But something a factory worker would.

Think one of his employees killed him?

Well, I can't answer that, but it'd be worth investigating.

Well, I guess we know where Detective Watts

should head next. Thank you, Miss Hart.

Oh! Uh...

Ruthie mentioned that

you may be having legal difficulties.

And what business of yours or your wife's would it be if I were?

Oh, I only mean to say that

- if you ever need any help... - Thank you, Constable Higgins.

But I'll be just fine.

I always am.

Thank you.

Oh. Come join us. There's room for one more.

Ah, no, thank you.

Are you sure? You could play my hand with me.

- No, thank you. - Well, that's a shame.

- What are you doing!? - Are you talking to me?

You dealt from the bottom of the deck.

- He did not! - You stay out of this.

I saw it with my own eyes.

You, sir, step back from the table.

- I will not! - Gentlemen, please.

You want me to step away from the table?

- I'll step away from the table! - Oh!

You step back, sir.

- Put that gun down! - I will not. He attacked me.

- Who are you? - I'm a police officer. Give it here!

Sir, confine this gentleman to his cabin.

- What? - You can't tell me what to do.

I'm the captain of this ship.

I don't care if you're Admiral Horatio Bloody Nelson.

Confine this gentleman to his quarters.

Preposterous.

And, you, clean up this mess.

Yes, sir.

I must say,

it's quite something having a real man on this vessel.

It's thrilling.

Thank you.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I'd like to finish my drink.

So, you've seen the wisdom of helping me.

More the necessity.

The evidence that you killed your husband is compelling.

Depending on from what angle you look at it.

Well, the angle the police took seems correct.

Can you describe your relationship with your husband?

Oh, like most married couples, I imagine.

In love at first, but later,

simply waiting for the end of time to arrive.

That's not most married couples.

You will get there. Trust me.

The Rochester police claim that the two of you fought.

Indeed we did.

That was many years ago.

Latterly we suffered each other in silence.

Until you killed him.

I was no longer interested in him enough to kill him.

I was simply waiting for him to expire.

Then if not you, then who?

Did that dim-witted policeman

say anything about a Rachel Wiggins?

Who is that?

Oh. I'll take that as an answer.

She was our housemaid for a while.

Where is she now?

Haven't the foggiest.

My husband dismissed her shortly before his death.

There, look at that.

I have just pointed you towards a person with motive.

Why did he let her go?

He was having an affair with her.

I suppose he tired of it.

Well, that suggests motive on your part.

That would suggest I still had feelings for him.

Dear lady, that was not the case.

Is it your contention, then, that she planted evidence

to make you appear guilty?

I contend nothing.

But that is certainly a possibility. She was angry with me.

Why is that?

Oh, she felt I ought to have had sympathy for her plight.

And you did not?

Stupid naive people get what they deserve,

don't you think?

What do you have?

I think I know where Mr. Lepage was killed.

There were traces of blood and, well,

Mr. Lepage in the gears of a machine

in his fabrication plant.

It would have been capable of doing the damage we witnessed.

But no idea who might have done it?

No.

So, could it have been an accident?

I suppose. But, if that was the case, why move the body?

Mm.

George Crabtree...

Right. I'll be right there.

Can you imagine there was a time I enjoyed

hearing this thing ring?

Mrs. Fanshaw is a wonderful woman.

I am glad you are here to help.

And her husband?

A decent man.

Were you here the night that he was killed?

Sadly, I was not.

The lady and her husband were home alone that night.

Mrs. Fanshaw retired early. She was...

Under the weather.

Mr. Jones, I am speaking with Mr. Edwards at the moment.

And I know the truth of it as well as he.

And I will get to you in due time.

So, you were not present. Where were you?

Attending services at the first Methodist church on Franklin.

I returned here to find Mr. Fanshaw dead.

- And Hilda Fanshaw? - She was asleep in her room.

What can you tell me about this Rachel Wiggins?

She was dismissed by the Fanshaws

some months before Mr. Fanshaw died.

What was the reason for her dismissal?

Oh, she made scurrilous accusations against Mr. Fanshaw.

Accusations of what nature?

She accused Mr. Fanshaw of improper conduct,

which surely was a lie.

Do you know where she is now?

I do not.

Thank you.

Mr. Fanshaw attacked her repeatedly

and then dismissed her without a word.

If you ask me, he deserved what he received.

Miss Hart.

Uh, you best not uncover it here, Inspector.

Oh, good lord.

What happened?

He's been flayed.

My God.

What's this?

I believe it is called a sandblaster.

It's used to remove paint or rust from metal.

Judging by the condition of the victim,

I'd assume the assailant used it on him.

Oh, good gracious.

So?

So what?

So, what would you have us do, Inspector?

Right. Well, um, get the body to the morgue.

Wagon's on the way.

Perhaps it's best we get everyone out of here?

Right. Lads, clear the area.

You know what this means?

These two murders are connected.

Inspector Brackenreid!

Inspector Brackenreid, wake up!

Inspector Brackenreid!

Oh, yes. Oh, I'm coming.

Inspector Brackenreid!

Please, come quickly.

- What is it? - Just come on, a man's been killed.

- You found him? - Yes.

I was on deck, heard a commotion below. I rushed down.

- Did you see anything? - I'm sorry, no.

Mm. So, unless someone

boarded in the middle of the night,

our killer is on this boat.

- My heavens. - No one gets on or off this ship.

- Agreed. - And cut the engines 'til we get this sorted.

Oh, and while you're at it,

cover the poor bugger up.

I don't see why this is so hard for you.

I've yet to question Miss Wiggins.

Why bother?

She'll just declare her innocence.

All you have to do is prove that she killed my husband.

I don't know that to be the case.

Then make it the case. That is your only job.

Do it and you can return to your life.

She may be an innocent woman.

Oh, well, if that troubles you,

find someone else to become the guilty party.

I don't care.

I am now two days away from death.

Which means your daughter is as well.

My God. She's just a child.

And I am not.

That doesn't mean I don't value my life.

You should know by now I am very determined to preserve it.

Associates tell me your little Susannah

spoke her first words yesterday.

Would be such a shame if they were to be her last.

- If you touch my daughter... - Detective!

If you don't do as I ask,

you will be spending the rest of your life

explaining your decision to your wife.

Not a prospect I would relish.

I also don't relish condemning an innocent woman.

Well, then,

you'd best choose the lesser of two evils.

Wendell Dunston is the second victim.

At present, there is no indication the two men knew each other.

I've got something you're going to want to see.

Loui... Miss Cherry,

- you can't just walk in here. - All right.

My information and I are happy to leave.

What information?

This. I found it under my office door this morning.

I'll ask that you make an appointment next time, Miss Cherry.

I am acting inspector right...

Oh!

"What you are witnessing is retribution.

The deaths of Robert Foster and Ned McGuire have been avenged."

Any idea who they are?

I did some poking around.

Robert Foster was rent asunder by a machine

at Arnauld Lepage's fabrication plant.

Ned McGuire was killed when a sandblasting machine

at Dunston's factory malfunctioned.

So, what we are witnessing is a mimicking of their deaths.

I also discovered that neither employer offered any compensation.

Mr. Dunston even refused to pay funeral costs.

Right. We need to speak to the families

- of the dead factory workers. - Are you sure? They're in mourning.

Well, as of now, they're also suspects.

Are you forgetting something, Inspector Crabtree?

- What's that? - Thank you is in order, wouldn't you say?

Thank you.

We'll get her back,

whatever it takes, Julia. I promise.

Even if that means letting a murderer go free?

Once Susannah is safe,

we'll admit our part in this deception.

Then what happens?

It doesn't matter

so long as Susannah is returned to us.

Can we trust that that will happen?

What choice do we have?

Why aren't we moving?

We're not going anywhere until I've given

Captain Roberts my say-so.

I need to get to Toronto.

- My mother is ill... - My investigation trumps that.

- But... - Sit down.

You can't hold us hostage out here.

We've done nothing wrong.

What authority have you anyway?

That's enough. For now, you're all to stay put.

Well, at least it's a pleasant day.

Are we allowed on deck,

or do we need to remain cooped up in here?

Just don't leave the boat.

No worry there. I don't swim.

I simply like to take in the sun.

You should know,

I've noticed you watching me.

- Thomas, can I throw her overboard? - No.

But you can find out more about this lot.

You want me to help you?

Just be discreet.

See if any one of them has got a reason to harm Mr. Griffith.

Hmm. You can count on me.

If there are secrets, I shall soon uncover them.

Lord help me.

The coroner's report states that Mr. Fanshaw's death

was due to the ingestion of a toxic agent.

Does it identify which one?

It lists a number of possibilities,

but the report is inconclusive.

Shoddy work.

He was also cremated.

Well, that's unusual.

So, no body to re-examine?

I doubt they would allow an exhumation.

We are private citizens in a foreign country. However...

What?

Well, judging by the toxicology report,

a number of poisons could be responsible,

including some that could be found in cleaning supplies.

So, one could argue that the maid

had the tools to do the job?

Well, given the evidence of acrimony

between Miss Wiggins and the family,

it would be easy to suggest motive.

The butler stated that she was attacked

and then summarily dismissed.

That could give us motive and possible method.

Well, especially if said method

were to be found in the maid's possession.

Do we do it?

Another murder...

And you're suggesting the culprit was not

a member of one of the victim's families seeking vengeance?

Robert Foster left behind an ailing wife and three young children.

I doubt they were capable of such violence.

And Mr. McGuire?

He had no family, very few friends.

Certainly doesn't seem there is anyone

who would kill to avenge his death.

So you're suggesting the killer is somebody

with no personal association to the workers whatsoever?

It would appear.

So, what then? A vigilante?

I think so.

What was it the inspector used to say?

- Bloody hell. - Bloody hell.

"Three dead, the next to go,

the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker."

Three of Toronto's finest dead on your watch.

And three more to go if the note found

on the last body is to be believed.

And then there's this.

This rag of hers is nothing more than scurrilous lies.

Louise Cherry should be in jail!

On what charge?

How the devil would I know?

You're supposed to be the inspector. Make something up!

- Sir, I can't do that. - Look, I don't care.

I just need you to solve these damn murders!

Excuse me, I might have something.

Well, speak up.

I've been checking hospital records.

Hospital records? Have you now? Is that the best use of your time?

Sir! Watts, what have you?

I have a list of people who have died in industrial accidents.

What is the point of all of this?

All the people on the list died doing jobs

related to the businesses run by the next potential victims.

And who are the next potential victims?

- The butcher, the baker... - Yes, yes. And the candlestick maker.

I know. It's charming.

I'm attempting to narrow that down.

Well, get to it! And after you've done that,

I want them all put under police protection.

It's good to know at least one detective in this station house

knows how to do his damn job!

I think we need to speak to Louise Cherry.

I hope you're not thinking of arresting her.

Worse.

I'm thinking about asking her for help.

Rachel Wiggins?

Where should I place it?

Uh, anywhere is fine.

Oh, dear lord.

Ugh, he was a boor.

He made advances on both of us.

On numerous occasions.

Well, he was quite forwards.

- We rejected him, of course. - Of course.

- Not our type. - Not our type.

Oh. Ah, oh. Huh! Well.

He is the one your husband should be questioning.

The two fought constantly.

- I did see the incident at the card game. - Ah!

That was just the tip of the iceberg.

They were both pursuing Fiona.

Trevor, there you are. I've been looking for you.

I would think it was the other way around.

Oh, you noticed as well?

Yes! She seems to have eyes

- on anyone with a pair of trousers. - Honestly!

When do you think we will be setting sail?

- That is up to my husband. - We do need to get home.

- And off this terrible boat. - Mm.

Uh. Yeah.

Gentlemen, if I knew who sent the note,

I would have told you. On my word.

And you've received no further correspondence?

Again, if I had, I would have told you.

Your new paper has published

a number of articles about unsafe working conditions.

Yes, inspired by Upton Sinclair.

What, the jungle? It's a work of fiction.

Inspired by fact, George.

There are factory workers all across the country

who are victim to uncaring factory owners.

I aim to improve conditions.

Not unlike our killer.

No, he's nothing like that. He's a murderer, plain and simple.

Who thinks he has a righteous cause.

I use the pen, not the sword, Detective.

There are numerous organizations who aim to improve

the conditions of working man, and woman, that I support.

None advocate violence.

The butcher, baker and candlestick maker.

Any idea who those people could be?

Perhaps.

And would you be willing to share that information?

I am.

In exchange for?

In this case, nothing.

What this vigilante is doing

isn't improving the condition of the working man.

In fact, he's going to make it worse.

I have a feeling I may know who the butcher and the baker are.

And the candlestick maker?

I'm not sure.

Dead?

Oh. Should I say what a pity?

I think it's best you don't say anything.

Well, that should make your task easier, should it not?

Seeing as Miss Wiggins is no longer here

to speak in her own defence.

We don't know that she killed your husband.

We all know that you're responsible for that.

Oh, you have a fire in you, don't you?

But whether she actually killed my husband is not the point.

The point is to free me.

The means of murder were found in her room.

And, seeing as she's now dead,

it seems obvious that she killed my dear Frederick

and then, distraught at her wickedness,

took her own life.

She was innocent.

I don't see how that matters. She's dead.

But if your conscience troubles you,

comfort yourself with the fact that you're doing nothing more than

besmirching a poor dead woman's memory.

Nothing you can do can hurt her now.

But you can help me.

And your child.

Forgive me.

The young man, Trevor, seems very morose since the murder.

- The trollop... - Fiona.

Yes, the redhead.

She's flitting around without a care in the world.

And what about the other two?

Penny and Caroline?

I think they're sapphists.

- So they could've been the killers? - I didn't say that.

In fact, I think they might have likely been the ones to do it.

And why's that?

Well, they admit to hating the man

and they seem to be casting blame on everyone else.

Isn't that what killers do?

Sometimes. And what about the captain?

Hmm. I don't think so.

- Why? - He's the captain.

- Oh, right. - Hmm.

Thank you, Margaret.

Is there anything else I can do?

- Nope. - Oh.

I'll take it from here.

I see.

Hmm. Of course.

One of my men confirms finding the poison

in Miss Wiggins's room.

We've also questioned the staff regarding

Mr. Fanshaw's behavior with regard to Miss Wiggins.

And then, of course, there was the suicide note.

I just want you to know that

we never considered Miss Wiggins a suspect.

To be fair, Mrs. Fanshaw did seem the most likely suspect.

Yes. It's understandable. We may be in her employ,

but I can't say we're fond of her.

Yes, but I suppose being distasteful

doesn't make one a murderer.

So, what are next steps?

I've already spoken to the district attorney.

He's going to see the judge.

Talk is Mrs. Fanshaw's conviction'll be overturned.

Mrs. Fanshaw is a very lucky woman having you two in her corner.

Your reputations got her out.

Oopsy Daisy.

I should like to propose a toast

to Detective William Murdoch and Dr. Julia Ogden.

I am a free woman today, thanks to them.

You found the true killer.

- Congratulations. - Where is our child?

She will be returned in due time.

If she is not...

Mrs. Fanshaw is a woman of her word.

I can assure you.

I really must thank you again.

Such a shame about Miss Wiggins.

I suppose she could not live with what she had done.

You had her killed.

I should have thought the great Detective William Murdoch

would not be one for baseless accusations.

You do realize not a word of this can be spoken.

And remember:

If I have outwitted you once, I can again.

We just want to get home to our child.

And you are perfectly free to do so.

But would you care for a celebratory drink before you leave?

No.

Pity.

Excuse me, ladies, have you seen my wife?

No. And I must say she's a delightful woman.

Very inquisitive creature.

Ah.

Have you lost your wife?

I could help you look for her if you like.

- That's not necessary. - Are you sure?

I could use a little excitement.

It's dreadfully boring being becalmed.

I prefer a rougher ride,

the feeling of being tossed about with reckless abandon.

I'm looking for my wife.

Bloody hell, Margaret, you best not be snooping around.

Margaret?

Margaret!

- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.MY-SUBS.com -

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