All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S11E14.WEBRip.x264-aAF

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -

If... it's a girl,

I like Mary.

Oh. Your mother's name.

I would like to honour her.

I love the name Mary.

- And if it's a boy?
- Well...

William would be nice.

William the second?

It is a convention to name the
eldest son after his father.

So we'll be calling him... Junior?

Or... Will.

Or... Will... Will... Will.

His name should be something
other than a verb, noun

- and future indicative!
- Cheque please.

- William...
- You don't have to say the name

if you don't like it.

I never said that I
didn't like your name.

I'm afraid I can only offer you this.

"You've saved my life.

Allow me to pay for your meal."

How extraordinary!

- Whoever could it be?
- I have no idea.

Well, it couldn't be for
me. It must be for you.

I've never saved anyone.

Well, except you. Twice.

Well, I've never saved anyone either.

There was the one... I
suppose if you count...

You simply have to tell us.

You're invited to join
him in the private section.

President Roosevelt!

Detective Murdoch and Doctor Ogden.

Imagine my delight at seeing you here!

Oh, these fine men
are my guide and guard,

- Victor Palmer and Wilbur Reynolds.
- Gentlemen.

- What brings you to Canada, Mr. President?
- Yes!

Ahem.

I am here

to hunt the legendary white moose!

I've never heard of such a thing.

Well, I believe albinos
exist in every mammal species.

Oh, it's not an albino!
It has dark eyes.

That's what makes it so rare.

Then... may I ask,

why do you want to kill it?

To preserve it, of course.

You could preserve it with a photograph.

There's already a photograph.

Hmm?

It's the moose I want.

And where do you hope to find it?

Oh, apparently he returns
to Crane Lake every year

at the fall equinox.

Is that common, for an animal

to go to the same spot
at exactly the same time?

Well, perhaps it's legend, but...

I'm willing to take that chance.

Well, then, I wish you happy hunting.

I wish you happy hunting too.

- I just hope you miss.
- Oh!

Oh! Oh. I must ask that we
keep this meeting secret.

The Canadian government

is unaware I'm in your country.

Ah...

- Your secret is safe with us.
- Ha ha ha!

I don't care if he's the king
of bloody England, he's...

he's sneaking into our
country to kill our moose!

You're laying claim to the moose?

- Well, it's a beautiful, rare
- Sir!

- and majestic beast, and...
- Doctor!

George?

I'm sorry to disturb you on a night out,

but we've had a call
at the station house.

Somebody's requesting that you

meet them at the
Queen's Hotel, room 208.

- Who?
- They wouldn't say, sir.

- Only that it was of vital importance.
- Oh.

Terribly sorry. I'll see you at home.

Well, actually, sir, he's
asked for both of you.

Hmm!

Oh, no.

Is this the man that called us?

No.

Terrence Myers.

His name is Guillermo Burgos.

He was an agent for
Spanish Intelligence.

I'd like you to find out
who killed him and why.

We had a meeting but he failed
to show, so I became suspicious.

What was the meeting about?

I'm not at liberty to say.

Did it have anything to
do with the Americans?

No.

Why do you ask?

The door was forced open.

It was locked from the
inside. I had no choice.

All of the windows are also locked,

which means Mr. Burgos
died inside this room alone.

And along with the fact of his death

there's a top-secret
dossier that's missing.

There are no obvious signs of trauma.

I won't know cause of death
until I conduct a post-mortem.

Can you help me flip him?

There's something under the sheet.

Let me see that.

That is the missing
dossier. Intact, thank God.

I'll see you both in the
morgue in the morning.

- An injection mark.
- That's what I thought at first,

but there were no signs of
poison in the blood or the organs.

And it's also not where one

- would readily find a vein.
- No.

So he wasn't poisoned?

Well, there are several poisons
that are fairly undetectable,

but I found something
much more interesting.

Electrical burns to the bottom
of the sigmoid intestine.

Obviously, an electrode
was placed internally.

So this was torture?

Actually, I believe it
was the means of execution.

This is where the
electrodes were attached.

The charge would have
traveled through the heart,

stopping it long enough to cause death.

So he wasn't tortured?

Well, there was a slight
deformation of the ulna,

which could have been quite painful.

How recent?

I'll need your Roentgen ray
device to determine that.

I'll have it sent over straight away.

Electrocuted?

It's also likely he was tortured.

You seem preoccupied
with that possibility.

Is your concern for the victim,
or what he may have revealed?

Do I seem like the sentimental type?

If it was worth torturing
and killing a man for,

then it's at the centre of this case.

- Tell us what it is.
- I can't.

- National...
- Bloody security. Right?

So where does that leave us, Murdoch?

Mr. Burgos was electrocuted.

Now, he did not do that to himself

in a locked room.

Also, the killer somehow escaped

without using the door or the window.

Sir, perhaps the killer was
never actually in this room.

Then how did he kill Mr. Burgos?

Perhaps...

with robotic arms...

built into this wall...

just waiting for the victim
to fall asleep and when he did,

they made use

of this point of entry.

They came in through the vents,

extended across the room,

taking the victim in
their deathlike grip...

and when the deed was
done, they simply retracted

- without a trace.
- And how were these...

"robotic arms" controlled?

By whoever was in the
next room, of course.

"The next room."

Help me with this, George.

Good lord!

Find out who stayed in room 206, please.

Yes, sir.

- Sir.
- What have you, George?

The room was rented by a Juan Gonzalez.

Did you get a description?

Nobody remembers seeing him.

I believe this apparatus
was used to kill Mr. Burgos.

Hmm...

Sir...

there's something under the bed here.

It looks like...

photo processing equipment.

I used the Roentgen rays to determine

whether the ulna fracture was recent,

- and the answer is yes.
- How recent?

Sometime in the last two or three days.

It appears to be the result
of a force applied slowly.

- Painful?
- Very.

So this was torture?

Yes, that's a reasonable conclusion.

I also found this.

I would have dismissed it as a sliver

had it not been for the location.

- It's right above the injection mark.
- Exactly.

- Something was inserted directly into the muscle.
- Post-mortem?

I believe so. I retrieved it and
discovered it was a roll of metal foil.

I've unfurled it. Take a look.

"E N"?

- "E N"?
- Yes.

Let me see that.

No. It can't be.

What can't it be?

I've seen this before. I
know this killer's work.

Who is it?

El Noche.

Spanish for The Night.

He's an assassin who specializes

in killing his victims invisibly.

Well, then, why leave his mark?

Vanity.

He wants his work appreciated,

but only by those
worthy enough to find it.

At least now we know
who we're looking for.

How do we find him?

You can't. He doesn't exist.

He's a character in a novel.

Is someone impersonating him?

I'm the only one that's read the book.

Who's the author?

A former adversary

now imprisoned.

His location is top
secret. You can't go there.

Well then, he'll just have to
be brought to the station house!

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Giddy up!

Thank you. You can go.

Allen Clegg.

I thought you were dead.

Hello, gentlemen.

As you may recall, Mr. Clegg
was relinquished to our authority

after he attempted an
attack on his own country.

Which he tried to blame on Canada.

I expected he would hang!

Mr. Clegg is now a guest
of the Canadian government.

Apparently, your prime minister
felt me more valuable alive.

- Alas... I didn't talk.
- No.

But he has chosen to write a book. Hmm?

Entitled... Shadow of the Night.

You intercepted it.

Oh, come, Mr. Clegg!

You didn't actually
believe we would allow you

to publish a book, did you?

Ahem. Who's read it?

Only me.

What's this book about?

A disgraced American
agent reclaims his glory

by foiling the assassination of
the president who abandoned him.

That's it. That's your precis.

- Who's El Noche?
- El Noche is a Spanish assassin

whose brother was
killed on San Juan Hill.

He swore vengeance against
the man who pulled the trigger.

- Theodore Roosevelt.
- If you don't mind.

He tricks Roosevelt
into coming to Canada

to hunt a great white moose.

He knows that Roosevelt
will want this moose,

and that he'll sneak into
Canada with a minimal retinue

rather than suffer a
meeting with Laurier.

Roosevelt apparently finds him boring.

True.

We've uncovered a murder
that was committed by someone

who left the mark of El Noche.

A fictional character?

Oh, he's not entirely fictional.

You based your villain on a real person?

- It's permissible in fiction.
- Who is he?

I first heard of El Noche

during the Spanish-American war.

No one knew who he was,
but anyone who wronged Spain

could expect his shadow to fall on them.

Through systematic
methods of persuasion,

we learned a good deal about him.

Did you leave anything
out or make anything up?

I made up the plot and the
bit about the white moose.

Everything else I got
from stories I was told.

El Noche...

is deadly real, gentlemen,

and he always finds his target.

Giddy up!

It's time for the truth, Myers.

I've told you the truth.

Theodore Roosevelt was
in Toronto last night.

- How do you know that?
- We met him, my wife and I.

He paid for our dinner
just before you sent for us.

You didn't think that worthy of mention?

He's in Canada to hunt
the great white moose...

which apparently
returns to the same place

at the same time every year.

He showed me the Geographic article,

which I assume you got into his hands.

I should never have
brought you into this.

If my superiors were to discover

- that this was out...
- Well, it is bloody out!

And if you don't tell them, we will.

- I'm afraid you can't do that.
- Murdoch,

- get on the phone to the Prime Minister's office.
- Yes, sir.

They know who we are.

Tell them it's a matter
of national security.

Switchboard. Police protocol.

I'd like to call Ottawa, please.

The Prime Minister's office.

Thank you.

The Prime Minister doesn't
know about any of this.

Who does?

Burgos...

but he's dead now. So, just me.

And possibly El Noche.

Ahem.

Gentlemen, when I read Clegg's
book, it struck a chord.

The protagonist is based on Clegg.

The whole book is a roman a
clef of his wishful fantasies...

but it spoke to me.

An agent whose star has fallen
finds a path to redemption.

Your star has fallen?

There were certain incidents
during my time in Borneo

that have somewhat
darkened my reputation.

And how does tricking
the American President

into coming to Canada to hunt a moose

restore that reputation?

Burgos was to fake an
assassination attempt,

which I was to foil.

You copied Clegg's entire plot?!

How was I supposed to know
it was based on real life?

Carry on.

Naturally, Roosevelt
would have been grateful

that we had saved his life.

Likewise, he would have been embarrassed

that he had sneaked into Canada.

This would have given Laurier... an edge

during reciprocity negotiations,

and I would be restored
to agent, first class.

And Burgos?

Burgos, already compromised,
feared retribution from Spain.

After his capture, I
was to fake his death

and give him a new identity.

Unfortunately, he was tracked down

and killed by El Noche himself.

A bit of irony there.

So, how do we catch him?

Well, sir, the first step is to
learn all we can about El Noche,

- starting with Mr. Clegg's book.
- No.

I'm afraid that's
classified as top secret.

Not anymore, it isn't.

I'm finished. Who has chapter six?

- I do.
- Well, here. Let's swap.

We aren't supposed to swap.

Damn it, Higgins! Chapter
five ends with El Noche

drawing a bead on Roosevelt's forehead!

I have to know what happens next!

Roosevelt trips and the
shot goes over his head.

That's a bit anti-climactic.

What a crackerjack of a novel, eh lads?

- Who's got chapter five?
- Sir!

Gentlemen, gentlemen. We are
only reading one chapter each

and noting everything about El Noche.

Oh! You are the death of joy, Murdoch.

Thank you, sir.

What have we learned so far?

He's not afraid of heights.

He travels in the
treetops above his quarry.

And he has a terrible fear of water,

won't even get into a boat.

He hides photos in his bedposts.

I'm sorry, what?

El Noche knows that they're
on the way to his room.

They still don't know
what he looks like.

But if they find the photos in his room,

then they'll know all his plans,

so he hides the photos in his bedpost.

Bloody brilliant!

Anything?

Nothing.

Hid it in the bedpost.

Oh, well.

Perhaps Mr. Clegg invented it

- as a plot device.
- Mm-hmm.

Wrote himself into a corner...

Would you look at that?

It's what I feared, gentlemen.

How do you mean?

That is a photograph

of a document from the dossier
that Burgos was carrying.

What does that mean?

It means that El Noche has
all the information he needs

to assassinate President
Roosevelt himself.

Sirs. The station agent at Brignall

said that the only people who
disembarked at the northbound 10:14

were a woman and two children.

What about southbound?

He said a lone man did get off
the Southbound train at 11:48.

But that can't be El Noche.

He would be traveling northbound.

But sir, if he carried on
northbound to Parry Sound,

then took the southbound
to avoid detection...

It's what I would do.

So he's got a head start.

Henry, when is the next
train out of Toronto?

There's a 12:42 out
of Union Station, sir.

That's enough time to pack and change.

We'll make Crane Lake by nightfall.

But we know he prefers to attack
under the cover of darkness.

We also know the assassin
is terrified of water.

We'll be safe on this island.

Well! Get to it then, gentlemen.

Where is my bolograph?

Your what?

It converts heat radiation
into a graphic array.

You can see people in the dark.

Well, actually sir, you can see the heat

radiating off of their bodies. George!

Sir, I found it!

Where was it?

Sir, McNabb had taken it
to help him shoot raccoons.

Bloody McNabb. Big dozy git.

Thank you.

Well, get a move on, then.

You've got 10 minutes
to catch that train.

- Yeah!
- Good luck.

You know, it occurs to me, Murdoch, that

should we reach Roosevelt
before El Noche attacks,

I will, in fact, be saving the
American President from assassination.

- Ha!
- And if Roosevelt dies?

The Americans will want to know

why he was in Canada.

They'll probably
uncover the role I played

and my life will be over.

Then I'd suggest we pick up the pace.

Sir!

A body has been found in an
alleyway off Darcy Street.

Well, let's get a move on.

- And let's inform Dr. Ogden.
- Sir.

All right. Let's see what
we've got then, Crabtree.

- Oh!
- Oh, good God!

Oh! It appears he's lost his head.

And hands by the look of it, sir.

The killer obviously didn't
want us to identify him.

What have we, gentlemen?

- A particularly grisly one I'm afraid, Doctor.
- That it is.

Excuse me.

Well, I've never seen her
react like that before.

Sir, that's the second time I've
seen Dr. Ogden overcome like that.

Women have peculiar
constitutions, Crabtree.

When Margaret was expecting Bobby,

the sight of blood would
send her into a fit.

Sir, are you suggesting
Dr. Ogden is with child?

Bloody hell, Crabtree! I'm
saying women are unpredictable.

Don't look for a reason
for their behavior.

You won't find it.

- Everything all right, Doctor?
- Let's just get it over with.

Judging by the...

the body temperature...

and state of rigor
mortis, I'd suggest...

the time of death was
shortly after midnight.

As for the cause of death...

I'll have to let you know.

Ah!

- Sir, something rather gross has been found.
- Oh, no.

Three bedrolls. The President
is traveling with two other men.

Mr. President.

My dog chased a rabbit
through the fence.

He didn't catch the
rabbit, but he found this.

He wanted to keep digging.

- Whoa, boy.
- Oh, gracious.

Oh, bloody hell.

Sir...

are you thinking what I'm thinking?

That this belongs to the
body we found earlier?

Get your dog to sniff around some more.

I'll give you a dollar for
every body part you find.

- How about two?
- Don't push it.

- Come on.
- Sir, look. There's a scar on the middle finger.

So?

The fingermark I lifted from
the photograph in the bedpost

had a similar scar.

How would a Spanish
assassin know I'm here?

Even my cabinet is in the dark about it.

- Well, sir...
- We don't know.

But as you well know, sir, Spanish spies

are among the world's best.

I'm convinced as to the
threat, Mr. President.

Damn it, Reynolds! I'm not
leaving without that moose.

It returns every year, sir.
We can always come back.

You say he only attacks at night.

- Well, according to...
- That's correct.

Then we won't have time to get
to Brignall Station before dark.

No, but we can get to the
island before the sun sets.

But what good is the island?
We'll be sitting ducks.

The assassin is afraid of open water.

Won't even get into a boat.

How do you know so much about him? Hmm?

- Interestingly, we learned about him from...
- Spanish intelligence.

The assassin is
apparently a rogue agent.

Personal vendetta against
yourself apparently, sir.

What did I do to him?

His brother was killed in
your charge up San Juan Hill.

Well, if that's the case,

we ought to pack and move
on as quickly as we can.

Go.

Murdoch, you cannot
tell them about Clegg.

Mr. Meyers, I will not lie

to the American President
in order to spare you

the consequences of your poor decisions.

Listen carefully. Clegg being
alive was not my decision.

It was Laurier's.

Two years ago, we informed
the American government

that we had hanged Clegg. We did not.

We only kept him alive
in order to extract

American intelligence secrets.

So you see, Murdoch...

my own personal interests are
not the only ones at stake here.

It's a match, sir.

You're saying these belong
to the infamous El Noche.

Well, most of him. There's
still a head and a hand at large.

He was an assassin
who killed an assassin.

- And has now been assassinated.
- Concisely put, Sir.

- Thank you, Crabtree.
- We found the head.

Let's have a look.

Crikey!

Sir that's...

The prison guard that
escorted Clegg to our station.

So Clegg's escort was El Noche?

He's been dead how long?

Midnight last night.

Clegg and the guard left the station

after 11 o'clock.

Sir, I'll get Clegg's picture
to all points of transit.

Carry on, Higgins.

Sir.

The device uses a bolometer
and a graphic array

to visualize heat radiation.

This would be excellent
for hunting at night.

It's only accurate up to 100 yards,

but should help us see
anyone approaching the island.

There's someone coming right now.

Sir, you must remain in the tent.

Canvas won't stop a bullet, Meyers.

No, but it will obscure you from
a sniper on the mainland. Please.

Sir.

We found the Canadian
government wagon abandoned

outside Union Station.

So he's making good his escape.

If freedom is what he's seeking.

How do you mean?

Well, we showed Clegg's photo
around Union Station this morning.

A clerk remembers selling him a
train ticket to Brignall this morning.

Brignall?

That's the nearest station
to where Roosevelt is camped.

Sir, it can't be a coincidence.

What does this have to do with El Noche?

Sir, what if Clegg's guard

was playing the role of El Noche
while Clegg was still imprisoned?

To what end, though?

Because Clegg's been trying
to obscure the true identity

of the assassin all along.

Bloody hell!

Allen Clegg...

... is El Noche.

There'll be a station agent at Brignall.

Get me Brignall station right away.

Yes, sir. This is Toronto Constabulary.

We need to get an urgent message
to a hunting party at Crane Lake.

- Yes, I realize it's nighttime.
- Oh! Give me that, Crabtree.

Now listen to me!

The American President
is staying at Crane Lake.

He will be killed if he doesn't
get this message immediately.

The message as follows:

Allen Clegg is El Noche.

And he's escaped. Repeat:

Allen Clegg is El
Noche. And he's escaped.

I must insist you keep
down, Mr. President.

He can still shoot at
us from the mainland.

Well, let him try!

His muzzleflash will
reveal his position.

Perhaps you should remove your hat...

Mr. President.

The Parry Sound Constabulary
has sent a group of men,

but most likely they likely
won't get there until dawn.

What about the station agent?

He's on his way by canoe

- Apparently, it's quicker.
- Oh!

It'll be all right, Doctor.

As soon as he gets the message,

Detective Murdoch will know what to do.

The first I went hunting was in Maine.

I was taught by the best.

Bill Sewall, Wilmot Dow.

What were you hunting?

Waterfowl, mostly.

I was rather nervous at first.

The anticipation.

The exhilaration of lying in wait,

finger on the trigger.

And now I lie in wait
for someone to shoot me.

Hmm.

Pardon me, Mr. President.

Detective Murdoch's device
has picked up a signal.

There's somebody near our boat.

Here!

Who's that?

I don't know.

It's the railway agent
from Brignall Station.

- What's he doing out here?
- There's something in his mouth.

It's part of a telegram from
Station House Number Four.

El Noche.

El Noche?

It's the name of the assassin.

Where's the rest of that message?

- More importantly, what was the message?
- No, no, no. Hold on.

El Noche is Spanish for The Night.

He calls himself The Night?

You've heard of him?

Oh, yes. We know a man who
called himself The Night...

but he wasn't Spanish.

Who was he?

An American agent you know, Mr. Meyers.

Your government hanged
him two years ago.

Are you speaking of Allen Clegg?

Murdoch...

- Allen Clegg called himself The Night?
- Murdoch, a word...

Enough lies, Mr. Meyers.

Allen Clegg is alive, Mr. President.

And I fear he may be the man

who seeks to kill you.

What?

Think of it!

We were sent a message
of enough importance

that the Station Agent canoed for miles

through the night to
try to get it to us.

You think that message
was meant to warn us

that Clegg himself is the assassin?

Why has your government lied to me?!

I'm not at liberty to discuss that, Sir.

More importantly,

why would Clegg want to kill you?

Well, we... we have a history.

We met at Harvard.

We were both writing our
theses on the war of 1812.

Clegg was obsessed that America

had lost its opportunity
to claim Canada as its own.

And he still is.

You think it's possible that Clegg

seeks to start another war with Canada?

But how would killing me result in war?

It's not like I was
coerced into coming here.

Not coerced...

Tricked.

Isn't that right, Mr. Meyers?

What can you tell us about Allen Clegg?

When I was Secretary of the Navy,

Clegg was a covert operative.

It is believed he planted a bomb

on the hull of the USS Maine.

In Havana Harbor?

Yes.

The explosion split the ship in two.

And the war was declared against Spain.

If Clegg was a navy diver...

He's not afraid of water.

He only told us that to
get us on this island.

Which means our sanctuary is a trap.

Reynolds!

Why won't he answer?

Get down!

Got your answer.

Dear God.

He scuttled the boat.

We'll have to swim for it.

Sir. Agent Clegg now has the bolograph,

which means he can see us.

- Palmer!
- Get down, sir!

He's given away his position.

You might've gotten him.

I doubt it.

Sir, we've got to get
you to the mainland.

I'm not leaving this
island without Palmer.

You don't have to. All we have
to do is get into the water.

- The water is freezing.
- Precisely my point.

If we lower our body temperatures,

he won't be able to see
us with the bolograph.

And then?

We fight back.

All right.

Let's move.

Cover him with blankets.
Try to make him comfortable.

What can I do?

Fill this bag with warm
rocks from the fire.

For what reason?

You've hunted waterfowl
before. We're making a decoy.

Right. After him!

- Blood.
- Let's track him.

There's more blood.

- We're close.
- Sir,

be careful. It could be a trap.

You've been saying that
since dawn broke, Murdoch.

Let's just say I have my own
reasons for being careful.

And that is?

Can you keep a secret?

Murdoch, I'm a spy.

Julia is with child.

That's wonderful, Murdoch. And yes,

your secret is safe with...

- Meyers, no!
- Get him!

Murdoch, this way!

Sir, wait!

I've lost sight of him.

So have I.

Ahem.

If I put my gun down, you'll
shoot the President and flee.

I can't let you do that.

You shoot him, and I will shoot you.

I'm surprised at you Clegg.

How did you not think this through?

You betrayed me.

- You betrayed America.
- I'm a patriot!

A patriot!

Unlike all of you
pacifists who refused to see

that America can have
everything it wants.

It just needs a reason to take it.

Which you are about to provide, hmm?

I'm gonna kill you both

and then disappear

and let the evidence speak for itself.

Put the weapon down, Clegg.

There you are, you son of a gun!

Son of...

A quarter inch to the left and
it would have pierced the aorta.

Be grateful for a punctured lung.

I'm grateful for many things, Doctor.

Yes, well, we can all be grateful.

Ah yes.

I believe congratulations are in order.

You told him?

He's a spy.

He can keep a secret.

With my life if necessary.

Thank you.

If it's a boy, I quite like Julian.

Julian?

After you.

William...

I don't want him to be
named after me, or you!

I want him to have his own name.

Daniel.

I've always loved the name Daniel.

Well then, Daniel it shall be.

I suppose Clegg will hang this time?

After our boys have
had a chat with him...

an extensive chat.

Sir... with regard to recent events,

I'm of the opinion it
serves both our interests...

That no one find out about this.

You did come to Canada
without permission.

You almost arranged my assassination.

Shall we call it even, then?

I concur that history need
not record this matter.

- But as for your Prime Minister...
- He need not be apprised, sir.

All right.

Sir, will you not be going
after the Great White Moose?

My misadventure cost
the life of a good man

and very nearly two others.

I've set eyes on the beast.
That will have to be enough.

Thank you for saving my life yet again.

Always a pleasure.

Driver.

Well... Clegg,

I suppose this is it.

I'll be seeing you in hell,

- I'm sure.
- Perhaps.

But not before I publish your novel.

Under the name Guillermo Burgos.

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -