Original subtitles

(Indistinct chattering)

(Piano music playing)

We have to get going.

It'll be dark soon. We have to get going now.

No, I know. I-- I'm just not feeling so good.

What are you doing?

You can tell a lot from the pupillary exam.

What? Your eyes are clear.

You should be fine. I think it's a fever.

Nope. Cool as a corpse. I think you'll be okay, Will.

Okay, look, the truth is I can't go with you.

(Sighing)

Why not?

It's just the whole situation.

I don't think I can manage it.

I never thought I'd hear you say that.

It's just I've never done anything like this before, okay?

It's like any case.

We go, we observe, we react.

Are you afraid someone will spot you?

(Snapping fingers) Yes. That may happen.

But it's not as if your cover can be blown.

That's not a concern in this case.

No, I guess not.

Think there'll be a fight?

Ooh, several. Guaranteed.

I just don't know if I can handle it.

I mean, it's going to be a long night.

Please, Will. Please, you can do this.

You are smart,

and able to read situations,

and adjust accordingly to the circumstance.

Really? Really.

Never thought I'd hear you say that.

Can we please just go before we run out of time?

(Sighing)

All right.

But I know I'm going to regret this.

I'm beginning to think I might too.

(Men laughing and chattering)

WILL: It's this way, right? KATE: Yeah, come on.

MAN 1: Your skills shall,

like a star in the darkest night,

strike fiery off, indeed.

MAN 2: You mock me, sir?

MAN 1: No, by this hand.

Give them the foils, young Osric.

Cousin Hamlet, do you know the wager?

Very well, my Lord.

(Snoring) MAN 1: This is too heavy.

Let me see another.

MAN 2: This likes me well.

Give me the cups.

Let the kettle to the trumpet speak.

You enjoy this?

It's Shakespeare.

I can't understand a damn word.

Neither can I, with you prattling on in my ear.

MAN: Now the king drinks to Hamlet.

Hamlet! ALL: Hamlet!

Come, begin.

And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.

Come on, sir.

Come, My Lord.

(Both grunting)

Grown men dressed as clowns

play-fighting with toy swords.

Hamlet is meant to appeal to your melancholy humours.

I got better than that to help me with some dumb play.

MAN: You but dally!

Have at you now!

Oh! Oh!

(Audience laughing) (Both shouting)

To Lord Shakespeare.

May he rest in peace

and never write another stupid line.

Shh.

MAN: Part them! They are incensed!

Oh!

Nay! Come again!

(Gasping)

How does the queen?

She swoons to see them bleed.

No. No, the drink.

The drink.

Oh, my dear Hamlet, the drink.

I am poisoned!

(Applause)

(Gasping and wheezing)

(Audience laughing)

All right!

(Gasping) WOMAN: My God.

He's frothing. MAN 1: Speak to us.

WOMAN 1: What is it? WOMAN 2: He's not breathing.

My God!

(Gasping)

(Screaming)

He's dead! My God!

Not part of the play?

Not part of the play.

MAN: My actors are convinced that Tom was poisoned,

and one of them is next.

They're panicking.

Tell them to calm down, Mr. Mowbray.

Please. Thaddeus. We don't even know

if Tom died of poisoning.

And why would they think that they would be next?

Actors are, uh, nervous, superstitious.

There's nothing superstitious about an apoplexy.

Apoplexy? A sudden internal bleeding,

particularly fatal if the bleeding occurs in the brain.

So poor Tom wasn't murdered?

I didn't say that.

Did Tom have trouble with anyone in the cast?

No, no. He was a fine lad. Well liked.

Money problems? Family problems?

Lady problems?

Not that I was aware of.

Well, someone planted the poison.

You just said he wasn't poisoned.

Actually, she said that.

Actually, I didn't say that. I said that we don't know yet.

Poison is very hard to detect in the body.

When did Tom join the cast?

Same as everyone: four months ago in Chicago.

If they could read, I hired them.

So, you'll take the case?

If it's murder.

It's murder.

Body tensed postmortem.

Muscle spasms on stage.

Gasping, frothing.

Obviously poisoning.

Where are the cups? There.

Huh. Empty. They drank it all.

They drank nothing.

The cups were always empty.

Had me fooled.

Now that's what you call good acting.

(Sniffing)

Hmm. Alcohol. Bourbon, I think.

Tom was a bit of a drinker.

How big of a bit?

A lot. I told him two weeks ago

that if he didn't stop, he was out.

As far as I know, he's been dry since.

Guess good actors can fool you.

What are you doing?

Small amounts of arsenic,

even strychnine, aren't dangerous.

We ingest trace amounts of them all the time.

Water, shellfish.

Hmm. Bitter.

See for yourself.

I'll take your word for it.

Bitterness suggests strychnine.

WILL: Exactly. He was poisoned.

Strychnine symptoms are very similar to tetanus.

Spasms, stiffness.

We'll know soon.

Will, hand me my bag.

(Blowing)

The Marsh test. Add zinc into acid...

I hope you don't store this stuff in your pantry.

You should come over for dinner sometime.

No, thanks. I'm a good cook.

My nose would beg to differ.

Burning this should leave a silvery deposit. Arsenic.

I don't see anything.

Exactly. It's not arsenic.

So it was strychnine.

Well, we have to test.

So test.

There is no test.

Is this a test?

Based on Hings' symptoms,

it can only be strychnine or tetanus.

And there is a test for tetanus.

So if it's not tetanus,

then we know he was poisoned with strychnine.

So we're getting there.

You are. St. Louis.

Dr. Savage is waiting at the college.

So I'm going by myself?

Not exactly.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

(Whistling)

Porter.

Would you please put this body on the 3:10 to St. Louis?

My apologies. My nerves.

It's not every day I meet a Pinkerton detective.

A woman detective, no less.

I'm so impressed.

I bet you have some stories to tell.

I'm hoping you do, too.

What was the question again?

What can you tell me about Mr. Hings?

Right. Right.

I didn't really know Mr. Hings.

My husband, Lionel, knew him better.

But I know that Mr. Hings drank.

Though I think that problem was over.

And who was he friends with?

I think he took a shine to Robert.

Hings? Couldn't bear the man.

So you weren't close?

Certainly not.

But you drank with him?

Never. Thaddeus was strict about Hings not drinking.

Everybody knew he had a problem.

Lionel, though, continued to ply him with whisky.

So they were close?

Quite the contrary.

Lionel shared his liquor

because he was trying to get Hings

kicked out of the troupe.

So you were using alcohol as a weapon.

Well, in a manner of speaking, I suppose.

But I didn't kill him.

Oh, no one's saying you did.

But you didn't like him.

He was having an affair with my wife.

I wanted him to lose his job, not his life.

But you did give him that liquor.

I certainly did not.

It was someone else's.

You failed to mention your affair with Mr. Hings.

Because it was over.

But your husband knew about the affair and gave him liquor?

Yes. And yes.

But he's no killer.

Then where did Tom's liquor come from?

I found this bottle of okra bourbon in his tent.

Did your husband give that to him?

Definitely not.

How could you be so sure?

I saw that bottle in Rudy's tent.

Rudy? When?

Last night.

So you and Rudy...

That's why I broke up with Tom.

So first you have an affair with Tom, then with Rudy.

Then Tom drank from a bottle of bourbon in Rudy's tent,

and now he's dead.

But Rudy would never...

Would he?

Was there bad blood between them because of you?

A little.

A lot.

No bad blood. None.

But this your bottle of bourbon?

The drunk must have sneaked into my tent and stole it.

I found this vial of strychnine in your tent.

You were in my tent?

The tent belongs to Thaddeus. He invited me in.

Why do you have poison?

We park in fields and forests.

Mice. They eat everything. Ask anyone.

WILL: Autopsy results. Stop.

No tetanus. Stop.

Conclusion...

Strychnine poisoning.

Uh, excuse me? I need to send a response.

Going to arrest Rudy tonight. Stop.

Thank you.

(Man screaming)

Help! Help!

Aah!

Help! Help!

Aah!

THADDEUS: Oh, my God.

FLORENCE: Rudy's been stabbed!

THADDEUS: Rudy!

Oh!

KATE: It doesn't look too bad, Rudy.

Stay still.

(Rudy groaning)

You were lucky that wound wasn't any deeper.

I can't say that getting knifed in the back

makes me feel particularly lucky.

But I suppose you're right.

You mind passing me that?

Medicinal purposes and all.

Hmm.

So, tell me what happened when you were attacked, Rudy.

What did you see?

Nothing but the inside of my eyelids.

I was dead asleep in the tent when I got shanked.

The bloody coward ran off

before I even knew I had a blade in my back.

Who would want to hurt you?

Beats the hell out of me.

I'm an easygoing fella. I don't make waves.

Seems as though Mr. Hings drank poison that was meant for you.

Poor bastard.

I hope you're stealing booze in heaven, buddy.

Then the killer returned to jam a knife in my spine.

I reckon somebody don't like me so much.

Who?

Well, I'm not one to point the blame,

but... Go on.

Robert's been testy with me since the tour started.

Sometimes he takes it too far.

How so?

Well, he shoots his mouth off about how I have no business

working with the great Robert Burgess.

I saw him do Hamlet in New York

when he was a bigwig.

He ain't so special.

Hmm.

The enemy of art must be thwarted, Mrs. Warne.

Hear, hear. Thwarted fully and utterly.

Hear, hear.

We don't know that the attacker

was an enemy of the arts, per se.

He or she may simply have been an enemy of Tom or Rudy.

Or both. FLORENCE: Poor Tom.

Such a lovely man.

With such soft hands.

And Rudy, so quick with a joke.

That rakish grin, those sturdy thighs.

Who would want to harm two such vibrant, virile men

at the peak of their--?

They were hardly saints, Florence.

That doesn't mean I would wish harm upon them.

I myself am a vibrant, virile man.

Who knows? Perhaps I'm next on the killer's list.

Does this knife look familiar to any of you?

ROBERT: That's my knife.

And do you have any idea how your knife

became embedded in Rudy's shoulder?

Of course not.

I do know if I was going to stab somebody,

I wouldn't be so dimwitted

as to conveniently leave it dangling there

like a signed confession.

Are you arresting me?

No.

Good.

WILL: And you suspect this Robert Burgess is responsible?

Well, the knife is his. He admitted to it.

But a killer wouldn't be so forthcoming.

Perhaps that's his strategy.

What do the others say about him?

Not much. Unfortunately, Mr. Burgess isn't well liked,

and he certainly won't be talking to me again.

Yeah, you seem to have that way with people.

What is that supposed to mean?

Uh, that you're honest.

And that you don't mince your words.

And that you're a good cook?

Hmm.

Perhaps you'll fare better with Mr. Burgess.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa, whoa.

Gather round, everybody.

Gather round.

What is it, Thaddeus?

Have they caught the killer?

THADDEUS: Not yet.

Nevertheless, the show must go on.

Now, Tom Hings' passing has left a void.

But today, that void has been filled.

The newest member of our ensemble:

Bo Hanks.

Hi, folks.

Good God.

Oh, my.

Now, take him under your wing, teach him his cues.

Another amateur. Fabulous.

I am so excited to be working with your folks.

I'm a big fan.

Especially of yours, Mr. Burgess.

Your Horatio was a revelation, sir.

I was hoping we could run lines together.

La, la, la, la.

Focus on the one sound. Repeat it five times.

Slowly and clearly.

Sorry, what is this supposed to be helping with?

Vocal tuning.

Your voice is your instrument.

Again.

La, la...

Excuse me. Just...

(Gargling)

(Coughing)

I'm sorry. I choked on my water.

(Coughing)

That ever happen to you? No.

(Sighing)

I don't know why I thought I could do this.

It's just, I spent my whole life in this crap town,

and when I saw you folks on stage, you were like...

You were like gods to me.

Well, you've certainly got the temperament for drama.

I come from humble beginnings myself, Bo.

It isn't easy living the creative life.

But if you truly love the theatre,

don't give up on yourself so quick.

Again.

BOTH: La, la, la, la...

New actor?

Thaddeus brought him in to replace Tom.

Robert seems to have taken him under his tutelage.

I surely could teach that young buck

a thing or two.

My wife is endlessly generous with her considerable talents.

So you want to get that movement.

Now try. Mae, ma, mi, ma, moo.

Is Robert an experienced teacher?

Oh, I'm sure he won't steer the lad wrong.

(Humming) Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay.

Robert may be a snob,

but one cannot dismiss his obvious gift.

He's a thespian of substance.

Where does he hail from?

Indiana. You're mistaken, my sweet.

He told me Louisiana.

My memory's better than hers.

Which hardly explains why you flub your lines so persistently.

BOTH: Mae, ma, mi, ma...

(Both shouting)

(Both grunting)

Acting is so glamorous.

It's a calling, my boy.

They are so good.

These people are hacks.

Death...

Then why do you travel with them?

My journeys have brought me more cruel torments

than were suffered by King Lear.

That would make a good Shakespeare play.

I used to be a celebrity, Bo.

Showered with applause in the world's greatest theatres.

Lauded as a master of the stage.

I've bedded princesses.

I've dined with presidents.

Now you're pulling my leg.

Now I live in a tent, like a barbarian.

RUDY: Than with that hand

that cut thy youth in twain

to sunder his that was thine enemy?

Oh, happy dagger.

Here is thy sheath.

There rust.

(Gasping)

And let me die.

And curtain!

Could you feel my heart pounding

as I lay upon you, feigning death?

LIONEL: Oh, was that your heart, my sweet?

I thought it was mine own.

Lionel.

(Growling)

(Chuckling)

They're an odd pair of lovebirds.

THADDEUS: That's an understatement.

Florence runs around, Lionel pretends to care,

and then all is forgiven by the next day.

I believe the only man here

who Florence hasn't bedded yet

is Robert.

KATE: Mr. Burgess?

How much do you know about him?

Why?

Are you leaning towards him as a possible suspect?

There's some discrepancies in Robert's story.

Has he ever mentioned where he grew up?

Virginia, I think.

Oh. I've heard otherwise from other sources.

You know, there was a peculiar incident I recall.

We played a little stint in Dubuque,

where a bartender approached Robert.

And?

The bartender kept calling Robert "Ed."

He kept insisting that he knew him,

and that his name was Ed.

Robert became very uncomfortable and left the tavern soon after.

Mr. Burgess has given three different stories

to three different people regarding his hometown.

The guy's way too big for his britches.

He keeps slagging other actors,

telling tales about what a big man he used to be.

If he's so accomplished,

what's he doing with a second-rate troupe like this?

Got to make a living. Take a look at me.

I thought you were enjoying this.

In a couple of hours I'm going to be dressed up like a clown,

acting like an idiot.

Oh, so you can just act like yourself?

Let's just stick to Robert.

If you insist.

In any event, we need to sift the truth from Robert's lies.

Sounds like fun. What's the plan?

I thought we could wire Allan for a list of warrants

from Indiana, Louisiana and Virginia

for a man matching Burgess's description,

but with the name Ed, Edwin, Edmund...

We don't have that much time, though.

The troupe's pulling out tomorrow.

Then we dispatch an agent to Dubuque,

and locate the bartender that called Robert "Ed."

That's still not enough time.

Then what do you propose we do?

How about this?

Hey, Ed!

That's you, right? You're Ed?

That works too.

(Grunting)

Where you off to, Ed?

I haven't done anything.

Except poison Tom and knife Rudy in the back.

You don't understand.

I'm the one they're really trying to kill.

Who's trying to kill you?

Get off me.

You want up? Tell us what's going on.

I can't. Then we're staying put.

We have all day.

I am a hunted man.

By whom, and for what purpose?

If you please.

(Sighing)

WILL: Who are you, Ed? Who are you?

Will Pinkerton, Pinkerton's National Detective Agency.

Just as I thought. You're no actor.

With a little more practice.

You're living under an assumed name.

I have to. That poisoned liquor was meant for me.

Right. And then your knife ended up in Rudy's back.

How does that make you the victim?

We can help you, but you have to tell us who you are.

I can take care of myself.

WILL: If what you say is true,

you'll be a hunted man wherever you go.

This won't stop.

KATE: My gut tells me we should consider Robert.

WILL: What? Why is that?

Robert's real name is Ed, or Edmund, or what have you.

And apparently he's an actor who's dined with presidents.

Clearly nothing he says can be believed.

Well, I believed him.

He's an actor playing another part.

We've all got secrets. It doesn't make us all killers.

Well, now you've blown your cover and he won't talk to us.

Well, if someone's trying to kill him, we have to help.

Well, we don't know who he is.

Then we best find that out.

He's going to be on stage later.

Occupied the whole time.

See what you can find in his tent.

Ugh! But I'll miss your big theatre debut.

Well, your loss.

I'm ready to rip up the scenery.

Well, don't hurt yourself.

I shan't.

LIONEL: Still I am called.

Unhand me, gentlemen!

By heavens,

I'll make a ghost of he who lets me.

I say, away!

Go on.

I'll follow thee.

He waxes desperate with imagination.

To what issue will this come?

Ah!

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark!

Heaven will direct it.

Nay!

Smells really bad.

(All laughing)

I pray you give me leave.

I will, my Lord. I thank you.

Hold the door.

Oh, though vile king,

give me my father...

Did I knock them dead? If your detective work

is as bad as your acting, you're in real trouble.

Had that first little wave of stage fright, but I got over it.

And I made them laugh.

Boy, comedy's hard.

We're doing Hamlet.

KATE: The Presidential seal.

"To Edwin.

Forever in your debt. A.L."

A.L.?

Abraham Lincoln.

(Loud clattering)

So, where was the last place that you did Hamlet, exactly?

Chicago? Boston? Uh, your cue's coming up.

Don't play me for a fool.

(Grunting) Oh!

Come on.

Edwin Booth.

I should have known.

But who would ever expect such a celebrated actor

to be part of such a ragtag troupe?

Mr. Booth, it's a real pleasure.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

Hundred nights Hamlet. New York City. Last year.

I read you were brilliant.

Woman's gone mad.

You could say that.

But this tells me otherwise.

I picked it up in pawn.

I don't think so.

In fact, President Lincoln gave this to you

when you saved his son Robert's life

on that train platform in Jersey City in '64.

"Forever in your debt"?

That young man would have died but for your heroic save.

But nobody remembers that.

All they know of me is my brother.

Edwin Booth?

Brother of John Wilkes Booth,

the man who killed the President?

He was my estranged brother, and I disowned him.

And you saved the President's son's life?

I'm well aware of the irony.

WILL: Who's trying to kill you?

If I knew that, I wouldn't be here

in this two-bit sideshow, now would I?

The President's assassination

must have been uniquely difficult for you.

The crowds booed me off the stage in Boston.

They ran me out of Chicago.

That brother of mine has taken my life.

I can no longer hold my head up in society.

MAN: Horatio, one minute!

If you'll excuse me, dear madam.

So, what's your gut telling you now?

I hate to admit it,

but you were right.

(Exhaling)

Never thought I'd hear those words coming out of your mouth.

Can I get them in writing?

That is one tortured man.

Where are you going? To talk to Rudy.

Why? Because Rudy saw Robert

play Hamlet in New York City.

He knows he's Edwin Booth.

He must still be on stage.

You should hurry then.

Aren't you supposed to be on stage?

I have a little time.

To be...

or not to be.

That is the question.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows

of outrageous fortune,

or take arms...

I didn't take this guy for the neat and orderly type.

Not all men are slobs like you, Will.

Who said I'm a slob?

And how do you know what my rooms look like?

You've been snooping around those, too?

I don't believe this! You were in my room?

What'd you find?

Nothing of interest. Trust me.

The woman's snooping in my room.

I'm a private investigator, Will.

I wanted to know who I was working with.

You could have just asked me for the key.

I would have given it to you.

Do you notice something funny?

Besides you? Stop.

Look.

Is that blood?

You take this with you everywhere you go?

Hemoglobin oxidizes hydrogen peroxide.

And that means what, exactly?

Apply a small amount.

If it's blood, the peroxide will bubble up.

Voil.

That's a blood stain.

You sure?

A German scientist discovered the technique in '63.

Where's Edwin's knife?

(Laughing)

Yup.

Rudy set the knife here and then he stabbed himself in the back.

He wanted to make it look like someone else attacked him.

That is determination.

Or desperation.

MAN: Marcellus, one minute!

That's you. You're Marcellus.

Oh, right.

(Groaning)

Well, My Lord,

if he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,

and 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft.

They come to see the play. I must be idle.

Get you a place.

How fares our cousin Hamlet?

Excellent, good...

(Sniffing) What's that smell?

Uh, something is rotten in the state of Denmark?

(Both sniffing)

That's kerosene.

Kate's in there!

Kate! (Both coughing)

Where are you? I can't see?

I'm over here.

(All coughing)

Are you all right?

(All chattering)

How did this happen? We smell kerosene.

Someone deliberately set fire to the tent.

Bo's been undercover

trying to find out who poisoned Tom Hings.

And I played my part in that undercover plan.

LIONEL: Undercover?

What does that even mean?

FLORENCE: Surreptitiously, dear.

He's a detective.

Well, that explains your acting abilities.

Oh, yeah? And what's your excuse?

Whoever poisoned Tom Hings just tried to kill us.

Robert Burgess.

What?

I just helped save your life!

That's because you were almost caught red-handed

starting the fire.

You had no choice but to help us.

This is absurd!

Tom was always so kind to you.

I didn't kill Tom! I liked him!

You didn't like Tom.

ROBERT: You don't like anybody.

That is true.

If I killed everyone I didn't like,

you'd all be dead.

Take your hands off of me!

You're lucky I'm a law-abiding man!

Robert. What?

You, sir, are fired.

You're not a prisoner.

Keeping you here for your protection, Mr. Booth.

If you know Rudy did it, why can't you just arrest him?

We can't. All of the evidence that proved Rudy stabbed himself

burned down with his tent.

We have nothing to convict him yet, so we can't arrest him.

The theatre troupe will be leaving town

later today, along with Rudy.

Are you just going to let him go?

Well, currently we don't have another choice.

(Snapping fingers)

If we make Rudy believe that the sheriff released you,

he'll try to kill you again.

Clearly. So we draw him out.

And when he tries to kill you again, we arrest him.

This is your plan?

I'm to be human bait?

It's good, isn't it?

I've spent the past six months running from my once-good name.

I will not do this anymore.

Of course, Mr. Booth.

Would you excuse us for a moment?

That's an awfully risky plan.

It could work. And right now it's our only option.

No. We're going to have to talk him into it.

I can talk.

Mr. Booth?

He took my gun. (Horse galloping and whinnying)

There goes your horse. What?!

I'll saddle one of mine.

Hurry now, people. We must head out within the hour

if we are to make it to Omaha by sundown.

Thaddeus, might I have a word?

(Sighing): A brief word.

Now that Robert is no longer with us,

I was wondering if maybe I should take over his roles.

Lionel, your ambition

outshines your talent.

Do you really think you could fill Robert's shoes onstage?

The man's gift is unparalleled.

But he's a murderer.

Talented murderer.

Oh, Lionel. Cheer up.

You're a fine utility actor,

and there is no shame in that.

Oof. RUDY: Sorry.

THADDEUS: What are you doing?

You're supposed to be packing up.

You said I could have Robert's tent.

I'm getting rid of his stuff. Well, be quick about it.

We leave within the hour.

(Gun cocking)

Find anything interesting?

It's the world-famous Edwin Booth.

So you do know who I am.

But who are you?

Just a devoted follower.

Out. Where are we going?

To end this.

(Horse whinnying)

Who sent you to find me?

Nobody. I came on my own accord.

You wanted to single-handedly

avenge the death of President Lincoln.

You're either an extremist or a damn fool.

Yeah, well, I never much cared for politics.

Then you're the fool.

Stop.

Turn around.

I'm guilty of nothing but association.

My brother killed the President. Not me.

I know. I was there.

WILL: Whoa. My horse.

Booth's here somewhere.

He's going after Rudy.

What do you mean you were there?

At Lincoln's assassination?

Well, I wasn't exactly there, but I was supposed to be.

Get your lies straight

before I shoot you between the eyes, Rudy.

My name is John Parker.

Lincoln's bodyguard.

You were assigned to protect the President. At the theatre,

except you were drinking in the tavern across the street.

Have you seen Robert?

I thought you took him into custody.

Is he here? Is he after me now?

Just tell me where I can find Rudy.

Whoa.

There's no sign of either of them.

They're on foot. They can't have gone far.

Why do you want to kill me?

Because your brother ruined my life.

Ruined your life?

People blame me for my brother's deeds.

You blame me. If you'd just done your job--

Your brother would still be dead.

But I wouldn't have lost everything.

Well, I guess we're even then.

(Spitting) Not yet, we're not.

(Gunshot, horse whinnying)

WILL: Whoa!

KATE: Rudy, stop!

Get out of my way, Pinkerton!

You don't want to kill anyone.

Yes, I do.

Stop.

(Both grunting)

(Exclaiming)

I warned you to stop.

Look, I understand.

You just want your life back.

(Sighing)

Give me my gun.

Thank you.

(Rudy groaning)

(Panting)

WILL: That is quite the jump you took from your horse.

KATE: Well, when I was a trick rider,

I had to learn to fall off a horse.

WILL: You were a trick rider?

Wait, is that before or after you learned how to cook?

Ow. Here, let me help you.

I'm okay, I'm okay.

I can manage.

Well, that's obvious.

Thank you.

So, you provided protection for President Lincoln?

I did. I was on a train to Washington

for his inauguration.

The rumour was that he would be assassinated in Baltimore,

so your father devised a plan where Lincoln would pose

as my sickly brother.

Got him safely through to the Capitol.

I didn't sleep a wink that night.

- Well, we never sleep. - No.

- What was he like? - Lincoln?

He was very gracious.

Intelligent. Principled.

Very brave man.

In a way, so was Edmund Booth.

The terrible turn his life took.

The guilt he had to live with.

He never gave up.

The show must go on.

Is that what they say?

And then there's John Parker.

Abandoning Lincoln was his choice.

But he had no idea what would happen.

Neither did you on the train to Washington.

You never left Lincoln's side.

I was just doing my duty.

"That and all things will we show our duty."

I thought you didn't understand Shakespeare.

I don't.

Ow.

ANNOUNCER: Next week, on The Pinkertons.

MAN: A friend of mine was murdered.

I will need to find his killer.

Somebody drove a fence nail right there.

WILL: A horse thief, a forger and a bald-faced liar.

You ask me, they're all suspects.

Even Kenji.

There was someone hanging around the hotel that night,

acting suspicious.

- Who? - Some Chinese fella.

That man is lying about everything.