Original subtitles

You busted Petrucci out? Why?

Petrucci killed my brother

three years ago.

It’s time for payback.

- Come with me if you want to live.

Go get ’em!

- You wanna take down Vaughan and Colangelo,

you have to do it on your own.

- Toronto Constabulary.

Keep your hands where we can see them, gentlemen.

Detective, even you must admit

the Black community in this city is not

well-protected by the police.

- I’m sure you’re right. But vigilante justice

is not the answer.

- I’m here to protect you.

- I fear Miss Hart has gotten herself

mixed up in something she can’t handle.

- People trust you. - They’ll pay if you show them

you’re not scared.

- Station House Four and its staff

have been declared redundant.

You, as well, Mrs. Crabtree.

- This isn’t over, Vaughan.

- I think it very much is.

- Three bodies in a few days.

Mm-hmm.

- Male, early forties.

There are already two bodies in the storage,

but we’ll squeeze him in. - Mm-hmm.

- Deal with him in the morning. You could go home now.

- Detective Murdoch. - What are you doing here?

- Retirement or not, it’s becoming increasingly

difficult to avoid crime scenes,

especially one so close to home. What happened?

- A body was delivered last evening.

Unfortunately, I only took a cursory look.

Male, mid-forties. - And?

- I believe whatever did this

was hidden inside the man’s body.

- Good God.

- What I don’t understand is why.

- Could someone be wishing you harm?

- If they were, they wouldn’t do it here.

- Well, I guess this would be the best way of hiding

the cause of death. Not yours, but whoever was brought in.

And I suppose the fact that you’re still here

means the Board of Control has no objection

to your neighbourhood safety program?

- To the contrary.

They and I applaud Miss Hart’s initiatives.

Neighbours caring for neighbours.

The very definition of good governance

is to keep government out of people’s business.

What an horrendous incident.

Truly glad you were unharmed.

- Thank you.

- And you, Mr. Murdoch.

What brings you here?

I would have thought you’d be off somewhere

enjoying your retirement.

- Miss Hart, what’s the current condition

of the other bodies that were in your cold storage?

- Largely incinerated, I’m afraid.

- Well, then I suppose that means their causes of death

remain a mystery also.

- A mystery the active members of the Toronto Constabulary

will soon solve.

Good day, Mr. Murdoch.

- Were you at least able to ascertain their identities?

- I said good day, Mr. Murdoch.

This morgue is city property.

And you are not welcome.

- Mrs. Crabtree, the file. - Thank you.

- I can’t be here long. I have to return before they notice.

- Yes. - Here. Here.

- Thank you, Sarah.

Neither Mr. Colangelo nor Mr. Petrucci’s men

taken into custody are facing charges.

- They’ve all been dropped.

- Where are they now? Are they being held somewhere?

- They were all free to go on the mayor’s orders.

- All right. Anything else?

- Well, it’s gossip.

- Always up for some.

- The mayor’s wife has moved out of their house.

They had the most horrendous fight,

right in the office. - No! Why?

- I don’t think she can put up with his shenanigans anymore.

Please, I have to get back. - Yes.

- We all miss having you around the office.

- I miss being there.

Do you think you could find out

where the mayor’s wife is staying?

- I’ll do what I can.

- In my humble opinion,

the better goalkeeper in England,

and, by definition, the world, is Teddy Davidson.

Be gone with you.

The only lad on The Wednesday

worth talking about is Peter Warren.

- You’re only saying that because he’s Irish.

- Exactly. Anyway, why waste your breath on The Wednesday

when the only team worth supporting

are the Glasgow Celtic?

All the best Scottish players

play in England. That’s why Celtic

have got a terrible team at the moment.

You might be right about that,

especially when compared to the one that lost

ten-nil to the Villa.

- There’s no need to go on about that, Ryan.

That was a one-off, a debacle. That won’t happen again.

- Well, at least the Celtic play for the right side, don’t they?

- And there’s no need to go on about religion, either.

That is one way to ruin sport.

By the way, what happened to your hair?

- This?

You know the story of Samson?

- Oh! Look who’s here.

Everyone turns to drink eventually,

especially when left idle. What’re you having?

- I’ll have a spruce beer, please.

- A spruce... the devil is that?

- He’s still a teetotal.

- Ah, I’ll make you a cuppa. It’s the best I can do.

- Thank you.

- So how did you find me?

- Your wife as much as drew me a map.

I take it you’ve heard about the explosion at the morgue?

- Terrible accident. - But if it was going to happen,

the morgue is as good a place as any.

- It wasn’t an accident.

- Go on. - Miss Hart believes

it was a bomb. - A bomb?

Placed inside one of the victim’s bodies.

- Bloody hell. Was anyone hurt?

- Thankfully, no.

But there was something interesting about it.

- Ah, ah! Let it steep, man.

Don’t be ruining it. That’s Barry’s Gold

you’re drinking.

- What’s more interesting than a bomb in a cadaver?

- The first person on scene

was none other than Chadwick Vaughan.

- Is that right?

Do you think this is his handiwork?

If it was, this could be a chance to get our jobs back.

- Who says that’s what I want? I might be perfectly content

spending the rest of my days in this pub talking football

with Mr. Ryan, even though he knows bugger all about it.

- Says the man who supports The Wednesday.

- Mr. Ryan,

have you seen Mr. Colangelo or Mr. Petrucci’s men about?

- Not since you arrested them.

Been peaceful ever since.

- It’s funny, isn’t it? That none of them

saw the inside of a courtroom

once that Vaughan took possession of them.

I thought you only wanted to discuss football?

Not if their guts are decorating the morgue.

What do you know about Sampson?

There really isn’t much to examine.

- But something?

- There’s always something.

There were three bodies in the cold storage

at the time of the explosion.

I have yet to determine an exact cause of death.

- Who were they? - Tony Petrucci.

And...

Mark Colangelo.

Bodies were incinerated.

So I don’t know how they died.

- Enemies in life. Friends in death.

What about the one who had a terrible case of heartburn?

- I hadn’t had a chance to identify him yet.

- It was likely Ed Miller.

He was brought in when we were rounding up Tony Petrucci’s men.

- But wasn’t there another fella?

- Bobby Marano.

But I don’t think it was Marano.

How tall was the victim that was brought in here?

- Easily six-one, six-two. - Right.

Marano is five-foot eight inches at most.

- So is Marano going to be next?

- Or is he behind all of this?

- Vaughan is behind all of this.

And if Marano is involved, it’s at Vaughan’s request.

- Well, that may be. - We still need to find him.

And we will. I think we will need some help on this.

- I suppose this one will do.

- Now make sure to keep that one out of the sun.

I know what they say about plants and sunshine,

but too much will cause a delicate creature like Emily

to shrivel and die.

- Emily? - Uh, that’s her name.

Ha. Are you in the habit of naming all of your plants?

- Only the ones I’m fond of.

- Huh. - And I am quite fond of Emily.

- Well, I would hate to break the two of you up then.

You might want to work on your sales technique, Watts.

- Oh, she didn’t deserve Emily anyway.

Detective, Chief Constable, good to see you.

- You, as well. - So, what’s going on?

- What do you mean, what’s going on?

- You two together. First time I’ve seen either of you

in some time. There must be a reason for that.

- How would you like your old job back?

- The station has been recommissioned?

- Not exactly.

- But we aim to see that that happens.

- Well, I’ve grown quite fond of plants.

But it’s best not to let a pastime become your vocation.

You do that and you have nothing to turn your mind to,

and then life is nothing but universal sameness.

- So is that a yes?

- Hm.

Thank you.

Um...

I don’t want this.

- Is something wrong, sir?

- They’re ice cold.

- It’s a shrimp cocktail. - So?

It’s supposed to be served cold.

- Don’t try to pull a fast one on me.

Heat this up, please. - As you wish.

- Gentlemen. - Ah, would you like a seat?

Ah, Serge! Could you set another couple of places, please?

- We’re not staying. - Hm.

- There’s been an incident.

We may have a chance to get Vaughan.

- So what do you say, Higgins?

Do you want to remain a kept man,

or do want to do something useful with your life?

- I am doing something with my life, sir.

I’m enjoying it.

- Come on, Murdoch.

This one’s probably no use to us, anyway.

- Uh, wait!

Ruthie’s getting tired of me laying about the house, anyway.

Ah, garçon? To my usual account, please.

- How’s business?

- Well, let’s just say I almost got my second case yesterday.

But one look at an Asian man...

- So, booming?

My only client so far has been that one’s wife.

- My wife? - She likes to keep tabs on you.

- Tabs, on me. Why?

- If I could be blunt,

your wife’s reasoning is somewhat beyond me.

But she does pay well.

Are you looking for my help?

We’re going after Mayor Vaughan. Interested?

- He fired me. - Of course I’m interested.

But he’s a slippery fish.

You heard about the explosion at the morgue?

- I did. - We believe Vaughan

was behind that.

- We know Vaughan’s been behind a lot of things,

but nothing sticks to the man.

I thought you were more of a fighter than that, Albert.

Right, then. We’ll let you get back to your business

of watching this one make an ass of himself.

- Sir, I’ve not been making--

While we try and take down Vaughan.

- There is no try.

- What’s that?

- There is no try. Only do.

I heard that once,

a long, long time ago. Let me pack up.

- Roberts.

- Yes, sir.

- Keeping out of trouble? - Best I can.

- Teddy, how would you like your old job--

- Yes.

Yes.

- I think he’d do it for free.

Bobby Marano is a hired killer.

- Capable of putting a bomb in a body?

Right now, he’s our best chance.

Miss Hart, I know you’ve yet to complete your investigation,

but do you have an approximate time of--?

- The exploding man.

Uh, I would say in the last twenty-four hours.

- Right. So Marano could still be in town.

Right now, finding him is our top priority.

- Roberts, go and see if you can round up

the rest of the constables. - Yes, sir.

- Gentlemen. - Starting without me?

- You said you may have found something

at the Crown Attorney’s office? - Yes.

They all miss me terribly.

Mayor Vaughan has seen to it that all of the men in custody

have the charges against them dropped.

But I have no idea where they are now.

You’re not telling us anything we don’t know already.

- Is that so?

Well, do you also know that Vaughan has himself

a new enemy?

One more formidable than any he has ever met.

- Who’s that?

- Thank you so much

for the seltzer water, you handsome gentleman.

So I heard you want to go after my husband.

Well, I’m here to help you take the bastard down.

- How can you help us, Mrs. Vaughan?

- I no longer go by that name.

Noelle will do. That is, if I can call you William.

- You can call me Tommy. - That’s all right.

Uh, Noelle, what can you tell me about your husband’s

involvement in this recent explosion at the City Morgue?

- I saw him reading a newspaper account and he chuckled.

- Is that it?

- He did mention something about a Bobby Marano

being a devious bastard, but I hardly listened.

I was preparing to leave him.

- Um, you say you want to help us

take down your husband.

Do you have something you can offer us?

- Well, there are his naughty papers.

- Naughty papers?

You won’t get Mr. Vaughan by going after him directly.

You need the Board of Control to want to take him down.

- Doesn’t explain what these naughty papers are.

- You’re a cute one, aren’t you?

Chadwick kept a list of every illegal thing

done by every member of the board.

You threaten to go public with their indiscretions,

and they will oust my husband.

- Do you have this list?

- We could get our hands on it.

- And what do you want from all this?

- I want to see my husband humiliated and destroyed.

That’s all.

I’ll bring them to you, William.

I’ll just need your address, darling.

- Oh. Uh, it’s probably best

if they go to Mrs. Crabtree’s office.

If it’s evidence, I would hate to have

to face accusations of tampering.

- Shame, but as you like.

- I’ll walk you out. - I can walk you out.

- That’s all right.

Gentlemen.

She’s very funny.

So, what do you think, Murdoch?

- I would hate to risk the reputation

of every member of City Council.

Vaughan’s list could be all lies.

Even if they are, we can still use them

in our favour. I need a drink.

- You’re not comfortable with all this?

- Well, if it’s all true, yes. Of course.

But I’m not willing to take Chadwick Vaughan’s word for it.

- We need to find Bobby Marano.

- Uh, I might be able to help with that.

- You?

- His name is Robert Marano.

He goes by Bobby.

- Oh. I’m more than familiar with him.

He’s in here all the time.

18-ounce ribeye drenched in Béarnaise.

Uh, recently?

- Not in the last few days.

He said something about a job he was looking forward to doing.

- Mm. - Well, if you do see him

again soon, please call us at, uh--

- If you do see him, uh, please call this number.

- I see. - Uh, are you with the police?

- Oh, once upon a time. - Currently I’m a florist.

- Is that so? - Well, we do have some plants

here in dire need of attention.

- Oh. - Perhaps you can minister

to them. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.

- That could be arranged, uh...?

- Serge. - Serge.

- And he’s Llewelyn. Thank you very much.

- This world is a funny place.

You think it’s a risky place, instead it’s a morgue.

- I’m fine.

You think someone may have been targeting you?

- Ah, Miss Hart.

All is well, I trust.

- Yes.

- No ruffians causing trouble in your establishment?

- Not as of late.

- Good. Very good.

It seems your neighbourhood safety program is working.

- Well, that and the increased police presence,

which we thank you for.

Well, you know me.

It’s important all the citizens of this great city

are treated equally.

No matter what race.

Speaking of which,

I heard the disgraced members of Station House Four

were in your establishment last evening.

- Yes. Yes, they were.

- Just a hail-fellow-well-met reunion?

- I think so. - And I believe my wife

made an appearance.

Do you know why?

- I think she just happened to be there by chance.

- She said you two had a spat. She wanted to cool off.

- I doubt she could do that.

My Nollie always runs hot.

Always had a weakness for a woman like that.

Well, if there’s anything you think I should be aware of,

please, let me know.

I shall be discussing the allocation

of police officers at the next council meeting.

Might be time to snip some loose ends.

- We never should have got in bed with that man.

- I think it’s best we stay on his good side.

- The Devil doesn’t have a good side.

- And you eat off this table? - Of course.

- These things came from inside a human body.

- Nothing a bit of soap and water can’t solve.

- So what do you know?

I’m certain that these are all pieces

from the device that exploded in the morgue.

- Is there any way we can find out who planted it?

I had hoped to find fingermarks, or... something.

But no luck?

- Bloody hell. - This is ridiculous.

We’re the best coppers in Toronto

and we’re sat ’round a kitchen table.

- It’s not the tools, Chief Constable.

It’s the skill of the men using them.

- That may be true, but as of now,

the only thing on our side is Vaughan’s soon-to-be ex-wife.

- Ah. But a woman scorned is a potent ally.

- Be careful with these.

And you be careful, as well.

Put me through to William Murdoch

at the Regent Arms.

What is it you want to say, Henry?

- Who says I want to say anything?

- All right.

I thought you already had a, uh--

- He moved. - Is that what you’re asking?

Miss Cherry. What’s this all about?

- Officers from Station House One shut down my newspaper.

- Did they give a reason?

- Orders from Mayor Vaughan.

He said my newspaper is a threat to peace,

order, and good government.

Is it?

- Well, I should hope so.

Is that not the role of the press?

- Have they laid charges?

- Not yet.

But they will if I return to publishing.

- We need to get rid of that man.

Muzzling the free press is the first step to dictatorship.

Anything arrive for me?

Seems we’ll be going to dinner tonight, Henry.

Bobby Marano made a reservation at Dario’s.

- Hm. I’ll be able to try the duck.

Uh-huh.

Choi, have a look at this.

Alderman Pearson. He’s a cheeky chappy.

- Oh, ho, ho. - Twice weekly visits

to Madam Sophie’s. Oh, ho, ho.

- So you’re familiar with that place?

Uh, my only business as a private investigator

was tailing delinquent husbands.

- And did Higgins ever...?

- No. Henry only ate at fine restaurants

and shopped for ridiculously expensive curios.

The rest of the time he simply... idled.

- Idled? - He did absolutely nothing.

He would sit at a park and stare into nothing.

- Seems Councillor McGargle’s a proper tosspot.

- Hm. - And look at this Walliams.

He’s a randy bugger. He’s been paying the lodgings

of three separate young women.

Something I imagine he would not want public.

So, there is no way to link Chadwick Vaughan

to the bombing of the morgue?

- Nor to the deaths of the men who were found inside.

Vaughan wouldn’t get his hands dirty.

Or bloody. And, yet, someone did all of this.

- Any idea who?

- I’m leaning toward a man named Bobby Marano,

a hit man with no particular allegiance

to anyone, so long as he gets paid.

Seems the city of Toronto has a paid killer on the books.

- Yes.

- Right. So, the only way to get Vaughan

is to sully the reputation of every man on City Council.

- This is unbelievable! - So it would seem.

Look at all that money spent.

- I will be taking that now. - Uh, are you sure?

- I am a lawyer. I have a very secure safe at home.

Gentlemen.

- There is a reservation for Marano.

Mr. Bobby Marano?

- Who’s asking?

We are friends of a man named Tucker.

- Oh yeah, him.

Red-headed mook.

Kinda dumb. How’s he doing?

- He’s dead.

- That so?

That’s a shame.

He was young, wasn’t he?

What do you want with me?

- I have a couple of questions

about what you’ve been up to recently.

- You two used to be cops, didn’t you?

You looking for work or something?

- No.

You know, I’ve seen you around.

You’re the fellow who signs his wife’s name to every bill.

You’re a legend around here,

the kept man of a moving picture star.

Wonder what she gets up to when you’re...

stuffing your face in here.

You watch your mouth.

Ah, just curious about the incident at the morgue.

- Oh, yeah, I heard about that.

Seems like a lot of effort for nothing.

- What do you mean?

Killing people who are already dead.

Who’d do that?

You all right?

Yeah, I ju--

- Oh, oh! Ah!

- Serge! Get some help.

- Wake up!

You can’t be sleeping here.

Get up.

Mrs. Crabtree?

Are you all right? - Where is it?

- What? - I-I-I had a book.

A ledger. It was red.

- Uh, can’t see anything. - Damn!

There’s no need for that language.

- I need to find that book.

- There’s nothing around here.

- I have to speak to Chief Constable Brackenreid.

- Ew.

Serge said Bobby Marano ate there three days a week.

- Serge?

- Ah, he’s a waiter.

And you’re already on a first-name basis?

- Serge said Marano always ate the same meal,

ribeye with Béarnaise sauce.

Was his face swollen when you spoke with him?

- No. - Was he perspiring?

Red in the face? - Neither.

The staff mentioned seeing a man in the kitchen

that afternoon. When they asked who he was,

he said he was a health inspector.

- Do we have a description of this man?

- No. I’ll talk to Serge.

- Do say hello to him for me.

- Miss Hart, task at hand.

Ah, right. As soon as I identify the poison,

I will let you know. Conditions are still less than ideal.

Of course.

- Excuse me.

City Morgue.

Yes. I will tell him.

Chief Constable Brackenreid

would like you to meet him at Ryan’s.

- Oh. Thank you. - Detective?

You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

- Murder?

- Being back on the job.

- As someone we know likes to say,

"Let the dog see the rabbit."

- Are you sure you’re all right?

- I’ve been accident-prone my entire life.

It’s left me with an extremely hard head.

Should I try to contact George?

He’s in Windsor meeting with someone from back home.

- Did you get a look at who hit you?

- No.

We searched for the red ledger. No trace of it.

I have a question

for youse all. - Fire away.

- When’d my bar become a police station?

- A Fenian bar.

This is the last place that Vaughan would look for us.

Cheers.

- You’re doing a public service.

Ah, well, perhaps somebody other than the Chief Constable

could order a drink?

Might be a public service, but it’s not a charity.

- Uh, I’ll take a gimlet.

It’s the wrong bloody bar for that.

Ah, must be a bit of a shock,

you being within the walls of a place like this.

- I’ve been inside worse.

Oh, do I sense that there might be a bit of a story there?

Mr. Ryan, if you would, please?

- Oh, I think I’m being hospitable

considering you threw my wife in jail.

- Your wife did murder someone.

- Well, uh, there is that. Boys.

Miss Hart. - Mr. Ryan.

- What have you, Miss Hart?

- Mr. Marano died from ingesting a lethal amount of ricin.

The Béarnaise sauce was heavily spiced,

so he wouldn’t have noticed the taste.

- So Marano is a dead end. - Literally.

- And had nothing to do with the assault on Mrs. Crabtree.

- It is possible that whoever poisoned Mr. Marano

was also responsible for the attack.

- That seems likely. - So Vaughan got someone else

to do his dirty work. Bloody typical.

A real man carries his own bags. Isn’t that right, Higgins?

- Still, we know we have members of the Board of Control

we can lean on to get rid of Vaughan.

But without Vaughan’s naughty papers, we have nothing.

- Well, it seems there is only one conclusion here.

- What’s that? - In order to solve a crime,

we are going to need to commit one.

- Ah, bingo! - All right, in you go.

You stay right here. - And do what?

- Stand guard.

Stand guard...

Hm.

- Oh, what a bloody mess.

Miss it?

Oh, sir, I must confess I certainly do.

Well, if things go well, you’ll be back here soon enough.

- No time for reminiscing, gentlemen.

As the Detective said, we’re breaking the law here,

so let’s get the surveillance equipment and get out.

- It appears Vaughan’s men have left most of my things behind.

Uh, sir, if you could gather up these surveillance cameras,

there should be about a half a dozen.

Yes. This is the parabolic microphone I was working on.

And what do you propose we do with all of this stuff?

- Well, use it, sir.

You can’t very well catch a rat without setting a trap.

- You can’t do that.

- I most certainly can.

As well as holding the position of mayor,

I’m also acting Chief Constable.

As such, I’m responsible for the allocation

of police resources.

- So you’re pulling patrols from our neighbourhoods?

- I prefer protecting friends than enemies.

- So now I’ve become your enemy?

- You’ve been assisting a gang of rogue police officers.

That makes you an enemy in my book.

But you have the ability to reverse my decision

if you cease and desist.

Oh, and, uh, give my best to Mrs. Crabtree.

I heard she suffered a terrible attack last night.

You women really should be more careful after dark.

- Well, I don’t want to say I told you.

- Then don’t.

Should I let Mr. Buchanan know?

- He’s in Boston on his studies. I’ll handle it.

- Well, you think so. - Funny man, Mr. Buchanan.

Proposes to you and then lights off for Boston

for a year.

Will anyone buy at least one drink?

- Special Constable Berger has identified

potential locations where we can mount these.

- Sophie’s is a house of ill repute

I hope none of you are familiar with.

- Point this directly at the door.

- Yes, sir. - Building 17 on Wharf Street

houses an illegal distillery.

The aptly named Councillor McGargle

is known to frequent there.

- These are photographs of the people

we are most interested in

furnished directly from the walls of City Hall.

- This camera is set to take photographs every 30 seconds.

This microphone is set to pick up conversations

and record them at a distance of 50 feet.

- Ah, Miss Hart. - Miss Hart.

What are you--?

- What can I do to help

bring that bastard down?

- Throw a party

for the members of the Board of Control

at your nightclub.

- What are you two up to?

We’re repairing some of the electrical... wires.

- Why bother? - Power company raised the rates.

No one can afford it now.

Just doing what we’re told, sir.

- Perfect. I think that

it’s pointed directly at Sophie’s.

- Hm. So, what do we do now?

- Have a cocktail, I suppose.

Camera’s doing the dirty work.

- All right. On you.

- It should work.

I’m sure it’s not how George intended his writing to be used.

Will Dumont definitely runs an illegal still in there.

You are aware that by doing this,

we are destroying people’s lives.

- Yes,

the very same people who are doing their best

to destroy ours.

Besides, they’re not people, they’re politicians.

- Still, we enforce unjust laws on people

who cause no one harm. We do it every day.

- Watts, if you don’t want to be involved in this,

don’t be. Go back to talking to your bloody flowers.

- Just pointing out the irony.

- Don’t let me down.

- What are you doing up here? And what is that thing?

- Uh...

Is a fire detection

alarm system, ma’am.

- A what? - Yeah. Like I say.

It, ah, make alarm sound

if it senses smoke in the building.

Well, sad to say, there’s plenty of that in here.

All sorts of comings and goings I don’t approve of.

- Well, suppose we see if it’s a-working.

- Most of my other devices simply take photographs

that are developed and viewed later.

This Tele-Vision

transmits images instantly,

all right here.

- Fascinating. - Once my other devices

have done their work,

we will develop and view those images.

If there is anything, we’ll show it to the Board of Control.

The hope is that they will get rid

of Chadwick Vaughan themselves.

- So is this the future of policing?

Let the machines do the work?

- It’s a way of viewing wrongdoing

without putting anyone at risk.

- Well, I could certainly use

one of your machines at the Star Bright.

- Are you sure? - It feels... rather...

- Wrong. I know.

But we need to get Station House Number Four

operational again.

And I’m sure you would like your job back.

This is the way to do it.

- Ooh, William.

Oh, darling.

I can see why you need your job back.

- What can we do for you? - I know who assaulted you,

Mrs. Crabtree. It was my husband’s assistant,

Randall.

He returned home last night with his naughty papers.

- Did he now?

Where is this Randall?

Lunching at the Bard and Barrister.

- I see. - Uh, you’re not going anywhere.

You took a nasty blow to the head.

I’ll go find him.

You go home, coroner’s orders.

Uh, Miss Hart, don’t you do anything either.

- Oh, just going to find a constable

and have him arrested.

Effie.

- I hope you don’t mind, but I’d love to stay

and watch you fiddle.

- Where are you off to in such a hurry?

- Off to have a conversation with someone

who attacked Mrs. Crabtree.

- Attacked Effie?

Mind if I tag along?

- Miss Cherry?

- I’ve been taking lessons,

filling my time since Mayor Vaughan

shuttered my newspaper. Become quite adept.

- Excuse me! What are you doing on the street with a weapon?

- Officer Berger,

just the person we’re looking for.

Would you care to make an arrest?

- This invention is really quite something.

You really are a clever man.

Oh, I know him.

That’s Alderman Pearson.

He’s a scoundrel.

- Perhaps you should leave this to me.

I-I wouldn’t want this investigation

to become compromised.

- Of course, Detective.

I’m sure you’re not comfortable with being compromised.

- You there. Randall?

- What do you want? - A moment of your time.

- Well, you’re not having it.

- You attacked my friend last night.

- A friend who stole something from my boss. Get lost.

- Hey, I’m not finished with you.

- Sir, you are under arrest.

You’re going to stop me with that little pig-sticker?

- Seems an appropriate weapon.

- What did you do? - It’s a solution

made of cayenne pepper.

Find it useful to keep in my club.

Here, I’ll help you to the nearest station house.

- I’d rather hoped to use this.

Oh, Andrew, you are a devil.

If you like, I can fetch Alison, as well.

- I thought you said you were leaving me.

- I could never leave you, Chadwick.

Not with so many things unresolved.

- Gentlemen. - Thank you for attending.

Mayor Vaughan has asked me to arrange this gathering

to show his deep appreciation for your support.

- What is this?

- You’ll see.

Did you give the Detective the book?

- I did.

Some of you may know me as Detective William Murdoch

of the recently decommissioned Station House Number Four.

My career, and that of my colleagues,

has been unjustly cut short

thanks to the actions of the man serving as mayor.

- Cut to the chase, Murdoch.

You certainly know how

to please a man.

Ah, Andrew, you’re a devil.

That shrew will never let me go.

- That’s you, that’s you. - That’s me.

- You?!

- That is you! - That’s me!

- This is terrible. This is terrible.

- How did you get that?!

We were able to obtain these recordings and images

thanks to an exhaustive list of files

that Mayor Vaughan keeps on each and every one of you.

As you can see, we have very thorough record

of all of your misdeeds.

Our evidence and Vaughan’s papers

will be made public if Vaughan is still mayor tomorrow morning.

However, if not,

then what you see will never leave this room.

Ball is in your court, gentlemen.

- You betrayed me.

- C’est la vie, darling.

- What she said.

- I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Station House Four

bright and early, me ol’ mucker.

- There you are, Emily.

- Thank you for getting our jobs back.

It’s nice to get out of the house.

- So you can go back to sitting around here all day.

- Better than sitting at home, sir.

- Mm-hmm.

The board voted unanimously

for Vaughan to be removed from office last night.

We’ve all been reinstated, including Mrs. Crabtree.

- Ah. - What was Vaughan’s reaction?

- He volunteered to step down.

- Where is he now? - He left town last night.

He went home straight from the council meeting,

was out the door in minutes. - Any idea where he went?

- Not a clue. - But he’s out of our hair

and that’s all that matters. - But, sir,

Vaughan is responsible for several murders.

And one day, he will be brought to justice.

But until then, just sit back and enjoy the moment,

me ol’ mucker. You’re back. Oh, and Higgins.

- Sir? - Put the kettle on.

- Sir.

- Right, then, lads,

now that you’re all settled in,

we’re off to the Star Bright,

and I’m buying the drinks. Murdoch?

- Oh, that’s very kind, sir, but I believe I’ll...

stay here, settle in. - Hm.

- There’s much work to be done.

I’ll drink for the both of us.

Albert Choi, a man after my own heart.

Oi, Higgins!

Are you coming or not?

- Coming, sir.

Subtitling: difuze