All language subtitles for M.M.S19E11.Strangers.on.Paper.1080p.CBC.WEB.DL.DDP5.1.H.264.Kitsune_track3_[eng]

- Pray tell?

- Oh. Ah, when Harry visits
on the weekends,

all he does is eat.

Sandwiches, in particular.

I’m sure you can relate, Watts.

- I don’t visit you on weekends.

Right. Uh, well,
Harry dislikes sandwiches

that are untoasted.

So, I’ve made this.

The modern toaster
is terribly inefficient,

uh, requires constant
monitoring, turning--

- Oh, I’m well aware.

I’ve set more than
my share of fires.

- Then you’ll appreciate this.
I’ve installed a timer--

- Mm.
- ...here, and coils

on both sides of the device,
so that

both sides of the bread

are toasted at once,

without fear.

- Oh, it’s delicious.

Detective Murdoch’s office.

Mm.

Yes.

We’ll be right out.

Spring is far too strong.

I’m afraid
you’ll want to see this.

- Ooh...

Jasper Weems. His neighbour
was walking her dog

and noticed the door was open.

- Strangled.
- And a rather nasty black eye.

- There’s overlapping
ligature marks here.

I wouldn’t say a rope,
but a cord of some sort.

There’s also white residue here.

- All manner of devices
and machines.

Why would Mr. Weems
have all this?

Ah, there are no signs
of forced entry.

- Am I too late?
- I brought the money.

- Sir, we are investigating
a murder here.

- Oh. Oh, my!

- What are you doing here?

- Well, I came to buy something.

- Did you know Mr. Weems?

I don’t know him
from a can of paint.

I just called the number
in the paper.

Man said come get it.

- Get what, exactly?

- A pressure compensator.

Little gauge with a rubber hose
attached.

- Watts.

The white powder on these marks,

it’s rubber bloom,

a synthetic residue left behind
on rubber products.

Like the hose
on the compensator.

- Precisely.

I believe whatever
this man is here to buy

is what was used
to kill Mr. Weems.

- So it’s no longer for sale?

- Your suspicions regarding
the ligature marks

seem sound, Detective.

Mr. Weems was likely strangled
with the item for sale.

- It’s not here.
The killer may have taken it.

- Rigor mortis has set in,

so he was killed at least
24 hours ago.

- And his black eye?

- The edges of the bruise
are yellow.

I’d say they’re about
a week old.

- So not part of this
altercation?

- Indeed.

- Take a look at this.

- It’s made out to Mr. Weems

from Liminus Research
Laboratories.

Right. Uh, Watts,
look into Mr. Weems’

family and friends and see
if anyone wished him harm.

- You’re off to the laboratory?

- You don’t think I’d pass up
that opportunity, do you?

- Oh, there must be ten
or fifteen cigarettes here.

- Mm-hmm.
- Do you think Mr. Weems

was waiting for someone?

- Possibly.

Manheims.

Thank you, Miss Hart.

- Ah...

Louise, we can’t be late
for a reservation at Tomeo’s.

They keep detailed records
of such offences.

Mavis!

- Ma’am.
- Why wasn’t Miss Newsome told

that our lunch date
had to be rescheduled?

- Because, well,

I wasn’t told either, ma’am.

Sorry, Miss Newsome.

- No, it’s not a bother, Mavis.

- Well, I am bothered, Mavis.

My second date with Sidney
has been on the books for days.

- A second date?
With Sidney? Who’s this?

- Sidney Ballard,
the man of my dreams.

He loves poetry, he’s tall,
sweet, sensitive.

He’s perfect.

- He sounds fetching, ma’am.

- The windows aren’t going
to wash themselves, Mavis.

Hop to it!

- So, where did we meet
this sweet, sensitive Sidney?

Oh, you know.

- No, I don’t know.
- That’s why I’m asking.

- Well... I met him here.

- In the newspaper?
- Mm.

You went on a date
with a complete stranger?

- No, no, not a stranger.

He’s written a short biography.

His interests, his likes,
his dislikes.

I felt like I knew him
before we even met.

- Well, this all feels
awfully sudden.

Surely it takes more
than a 50-word biography

to truly get to know a person.

- This is the way of the future,
Effie.

All those contrived courtships,

friends of friends,
those silly set-ups

that only lead
to disappointment.

It’s all so terribly gauche.

Besides being
generally unsafe,

what are the chances
you actually hit it off

with someone you don’t
even know?

He could be a washout,
or-or a drunk, or worse.

- If I don’t do something
like this,

I could end up single forever.

Or twice divorced.
Like yourself.

- Hello?

Detective Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

I’m looking for anyone
who knew Jasper Weems.

- Dr. Ralph Pipkin, but, uh,

I wouldn’t say I know him.

I assume Mr. Weems was
a scientist here of some sort?

- Oh, hardly. He was a janitor.
Fired a few days ago.

- Fired? For what reason?

- Stealing’s what I heard.

- We found a number of machines
at Mr. Weem’s home.

I could arrange
to have them returned.

- It doesn’t matter now.

The laboratory’s funding
has been cut.

We have to stop
our research.

- I’m sorry to hear that.

Um, do you know of anyone
who disliked Mr. Weems?

- No.

Although, Dr. Noble over there
was very upset

when he discovered
Jasper stealing.

He punched Jasper in the face
and promised he’d wring his neck

if he ever saw him again.

- Thank you, Dr. Pipkin.
- Mm-hmm.

- Dr. Noble?

I understand you were familiar
with Jasper Weems.

- Familiar?

How well does anyone
really know the janitor?

Especially one who constantly
says hello

every time you run into him.
Maddening habit.

- Apparently you were familiar
enough to assault him.

- Not my finest moment.

But it was earned.
He stole from this laboratory.

- Doctor, are you aware
that Jasper Weems

was found dead in his home?

- Then I suppose he stole
from the wrong person.

Where were you
last night, Doctor?

- I was here, getting as much
work done as possible

before the doors are shuttered.

- Can anyone confirm this?

- No, I was alone.

This lab is on the verge
of a cure

for staphylococcus aureus.

I’m committed to that

even if I have to work
every waking hour.

You oaf! Fragile!

That’s what it says on the box!

Just-just leave it, leave it.
I’ll get it.

- Angel Eyes cigarettes?

Your cigarettes, Doctor?

I’m not familiar
with this brand.

- They’re new. They’re the ones
my doctor recommends.

- Your...?

Good day.

- Now, I’ve spoken
to the tailor,

and your tailcoat will be ready
in time for the dinner party.

And what exactly is wrong
with the one I already have?

- Nothing. But this is a party

at the McPherson’s of Rathnelly.

You must look
your absolute best

if we’re to gain membership
to the Castle Heights

Country Club.

- Prostrating oneself

and auditioning for a bunch
of society types.

It’s just bloody embarrassing,
Margaret!

What else have you got in there?

- Need I remind you

that your lack of friends
in high places

nearly derailed your career?

What are you talking about,

woman? I’ve got plenty
of friends who like me

regardless of what I’m wearing
and when I’m wearing it.

- If you had had the right
friends,

then Chadwick Vaughan
would have never been able

to jostle you about.

And you can’t get much more
influential

than the McPherson’s guest
of honour, Kimbal Vanderwell.

- Vander-who?
- Kimbal Vanderwell.

He’s a businessman
from the Belgian Congo

and he just bought a home
here in Toronto.

- Oh, so what?
- So, he could become

a powerful friend.

The McPhersons say
he’s a visionary.

He advocates
for smaller government,

less oversight.

- Well, based on the character

of our esteemed ex-mayor
and his flunkies,

I’d go along with that stance.

But really, all this
just to lounge around

with a bunch
of supercilious prats.

- The Castle lounge has over
70 different types of scotch.

- How many?
- Seventy.

At least.

- New tails it is, then.

- Livor mortis indicates
Mr. Weems was face down

on the ground for about
two hours after death.

Blood had pooled in the abdomen
and between his eyes.

- So someone took the time
and care

to turn the body over

and position Mr. Weems
with his arms crossed.

- Why would someone do that?

Oftentimes people
will pose their loved ones

in a more dignified manner
after murdering them.

- So the killer knew him well.
- Possibly.

- And the killer was a smoker.

- Why do you say that?

- Well, if Mr. Weems
was a heavy smoker,

as the quantity
of the cigarette ends

at the scene suggests,

his lungs would be discoloured.

But his lungs
were clear as a baby’s.

- Well, don’t keep me waiting.

Are you and Sidney engaged yet?

- He never showed up
on our date.

- Perhaps he fell ill.

- Something must have
befallen him.

Yes, maybe he’s sick.
That would explain it.

- Louise, have you considered

that Sidney may have
stood you up?

- Absolutely not!

We made plans to journey abroad.

I’ve never been to Italy
and he was going to take me.

- All this on a first meeting?

- He said our souls
had already mated.

- A repulsive metaphor.

- This isn’t like my Sidney
at all.

What kind of a person
makes a date

and doesn’t show up?

No courtesy call, nothing!

Just vanishes
like some sort of ghost.

- Besides vacation planning,

did you two speak about
anything else?

His place of work, perhaps?

- He works at a firm on Yonge.

- Well, if you’re so concerned
with his wellbeing,

perhaps you could
visit his office.

- Will you come with me?

- Of course.

- Uh, as far as I can tell,
Jasper Weems

had no outstanding debts.
In fact,

Weems had no close
relations of any kind.

Not one living relative,
no love interests.

His milkman didn’t even
know his name.

- Really?
- Mm.

Why aren’t you
out there chasing him?

- Please, calm down.
- He should hang for this!

Or do you police do nothing?

- What’s going on here, Miss...?

- Martha. Martha Stockton.

My father was attacked.

- It’s all right. I’ll live.

- That’s not the point.
Papa was pushed over

by some goon applying to fix
our irrigation system.

- Irrigation system?

- We grow some of the city’s
finest tomatoes

in our backyard.
You can’t get the leaves wet.

- Or they’ll grow mould. Yes!

But you must give them
a good soak before--

- Before the sun gets too hot.
- Right.

- You know it.
- See, that’s why this

irrigation system
is so important--

- We’re not here to talk
about tomatoes.

My Lord, this city
is going straight to hell.

- Hm. Uh, you said this man
was applying for a job.

How did he know your irrigation
system required repair?

- He was solicited.

Papa said the job
was a tricky one,

so I wrote up an advertisement
in the Community Coin.

- Ah. The same one
used by Mr. Weems.

- Mm.
- Who’s Mr. Weems

and why does he matter?
The man who attacked my father,

he stole something from us.
A...?

- A pulsating meter.
It measures--

- Water distribution.
- Yeah.

- What did this man look like?

- I can’t remember.

My memory’s not
what it used to be.

- You think this is the work
of the same person?

- Could be. And he’s using this
to find his victims.

Two robberies and one murder

all committed with the aid
of the Community Coin newspaper.

- Any other connection?

- Well, we know that the items
that were stolen from both

Mr. Weems and Mr. Stockton
were both mechanical in nature.

And you’re saying
all these advertisements

are tied to other robberies
and assaults?

- I had Constable Roberts check,
and both Station Houses

number Two and number Six
have had similar cases.

All anonymous and all seemingly
random mechanical items.

- So, we’re after a thief
who smokes Manheims

and is a bit of a tinkerer.

We know that he likes
to steal bits of machinery.

We just don’t know why.

- Could he be reselling them?
- Doesn’t seem likely.

Perhaps he’s building something.

- An evil genius?

- Wouldn’t be the first one
I’ve come across.

Well, now what?

You heard her!
He doesn’t even work there!

No one named Sidney Ballard
has ever worked there.

Who knows what else
he’s lying about.

Maybe Sidney’s not even
his real name!

- There will be other Sidneys.

Uh, there might be another one
in the newspaper, even.

- It’s not about that!

He...

- What?

Louise, what is going on?

What is so important
about finding this man?

- Sidney, he...

he swindled me
out of some money.

- He did? How much?

- That doesn’t matter.
I thought I’d found the

man of my dreams,
not some common criminal.

- Well, you need to tell
Detective Murdoch.

- I can’t. You know how
they see me down there.

They’ll get a good laugh
knowing that Louise Cherry

fell victim
to some simple grift.

All right. Let’s speak
to the publisher of the Coin.

He might know
where to find Sidney.

- I’d rather just let it go.
- Well, I wouldn’t!

- Hm.

Chief Constable.

Oh. I’ve always known
you to be a Scotch man.

- Ah, yes.
- But the McPhersons aren’t.

And they are charter members
at the Castle Heights

Country Club, and we need
to get in with them.

So, if they’re three sheets
to the wind,

we’ve got a better chance.

So, which one do you think?

Is social status
that important to you?

- Oh, don’t be ridiculous!

I just want to taste
quality whiskey

in the Castle Heights lounge

and then spank Greg Gleaton’s
ass on the bowling green.

These won’t do.

- They cost a bloody fortune!

- Ah, the climate has been
most uncooperative

for Merlot grapes.
Unseasonably warm weather

begets over-ripened grapes,

resulting in an unctuous,
jammy wine.

What you need, Chief Constable,
is a dry Montepulciano d’Abruzzo

with a strong goût de terroir.

- Taste of dirt?
- Dirt?

Why would anyone want
their wine to taste of dirt?

- Not dirt, Inspector. Terrain.

A taste of the terrain,
a sense of the region

it was grown in.

- Watts.
- Terrain?

- With me.
- Un autre vol?

- Same method.

- Pardonnez-moi.
- Hm.

- Oh!
- Hm.

- Well, it’s about time
you all got here!

Someone better
find this grifter!

- Calm down, Mr. Moncrief.

Uh, please,
tell us what happened.

- Some hoodlum just tried
to rob me.

I placed an advertisement

in the Community Coin
a week ago,

and this man called about it.

And then I caught him
sneakin’ around back later

trying to break in and steal it.

How do you know
it was the man who called you

who tried to steal it?
- Had to have been him.

He’s the only one
who called after it.

- What are you trying to sell?

- Auxiliary tank valve.

- Oh. So, you were able
to stop the thief?

Shouted after
the scrawny bugger,

and he took off.

You better find him
before I do!

- What did he look like?

- Regular-type guy.

Tall. Slim, smoking a cigarette.

- Another fruitless meeting.

That publisher was as useful
as a hog in heels!

- And very rude.

What type of man tells a woman
she’s past her prime?

Well, you’re not getting
any younger. Just look at you.

Two pretzels
and a bag of peanuts.

She’s buying.
- I am?

- You have to.

After the Sidney incident,
I’m busted.

- How much did he take from you?

Louise?

- He-he--
- How much?

He told me this
heartbreaking story

about moving his mother
from England

and the cost
of transatlantic travel

has skyrocketed these days.

- Jeez! Louise, you didn’t.

- And we’d just had such
a lovely dinner

and I didn’t think anything
of it.

So I lent him $20

and I was sure
I would see him again.

- Twenty dollars? Are you mad?

She was to be
my mother-in-law.

I couldn’t have her slumming it
in third class.

- Louise, I hate to say it,

but I doubt you’ll ever see
that money again.

- You plan on luring him out?

- We’ve placed an advertisement
for a sale

of used mechanical equipment.

It may bring him to us.

- And who’s conducting the sale?

If there’s anything
else you need,

we’ll be right here.

Welcome. Would you
be interested in...

Excuse me. How much
for this copper piping?

Uh, the price
is listed right there.

Fifty cents a foot
for ten feet of copper?

You’re joking.

- I assure you I am not.

- Hello.

- I’ll give you 25.

- Sounds like you didn’t
hear me the first time.

Uh, do you think I’m having
this sale to haggle?

The price is the price.

- Henry, what are you doing?

- What does it look like
I’m doing?

I’m trying to turn a profit.

- These aren’t even
your belongings.

- Teddy, I am playing the part
of a factory owner.

If I’m to be convincing,
I have to stand firm

on my prices. Otherwise,

the patrons
will grow suspicious.

Twenty cents,
and that is my final offer.

- Sir, I have already told you--
- You’ve got a deal.

- Thank you.

- Why did you do that?

- I just made you two dollars.

- Wait. Where’s the thing?

- Where’s what?
- The...

valve thingie that was here.

- Oh.

- That man.
- He was lingering near it.

- Sir, excuse me! I’d like a--

Hey! Stop! Sir!

He’s got the... thing!

Don’t touch...

Don’t touch anything!

- Stop! Stop!

- Where is the man
you picked up?

He jumped out
and took off running that way.

- You are under suspicion
of aiding and abetting

a murderer.
If you know anything about him

or where he may be,
you should tell us now.

- Nah, I don’t know anything.

- We’re police officers.

I advise you tell the truth.

- You won’t get any fares
sitting in our cells.

- He told me to take him
to a flat on Palmerston.

Are you sure this is
the address Henry provided?

- It’s still warm.
- We may have just missed him.

- The man raced all the way back
here just to heat up lunch?

- Not lunch.

To dispose of evidence.

- Oh.

- Take a look at this.

- What am I looking at?

- Oh, plans of some sort?

That looks like
the pressure compensator

that was taken
from Jasper Weems.

This a recipe
for a mushroom tonic, perhaps?

- Take a look at this side.

- "The real dangers are the ones
invisible to the eye.

Soon these dangers
will be in plain view

for all,
and then they’ll be sorry.

The whole city will..."

Rest is burned.
Some kind of manifesto.

Watts, I believe
he’s building something.

Perhaps the Inspector was right.

- Right about what?

- Perhaps we are after
an evil genius.

I’m still unsure
what these burned bits of paper

have to offer us.

- All of these items tell us

that whoever
we are dealing with,

he’s building something.

- Do you know what?

- Not as yet.

But I am familiar
with some of these pieces

of equipment
that he’s acquiring.

And we do have a partial plan.

So, a puzzle
without a picture.

- The best kind.

- Well, how does it look?

Hold your horses,
woman.

- Does it fit? Oh!
- It’s too snug, isn’t it?

- No, it fits! I think.

- Oh, Thomas. It’s perfect.

Well, the clothes
don’t maketh the man,

but, even if I say so myself,
it feels good.

- And you have the wine?

- I do.
- Okay.

Well, if this doesn’t impress
the McPhersons,

I don’t know what will.

- Hm.
- Mm.

- What is it?

- Oh, nothing.

- Spit it out, Margaret.
- Oh, it’s just that,

even after all these years,

you’re still
the most handsome man.

- Oh.

You sure your staff
has left for the evening?

- Myrtle? Anybody?

- Well,

you better get that off.

You wouldn’t want
to wrinkle it.

- Why would it get wrinkled?
- Hm.

- These are all of the pieces
that we’ve been able

to assemble thus far.

And I was hoping to get
your assistance with this one

that was found
at Mr. Weems’ home.

Oh, yes,
a-a pressure compensator.

It maintains a consistent
flow rate in hydraulic systems

regardless of fluctuations
in pressure.

- Mm. Your theory seems correct.

Whatever the madman is building
is to do with water.

- Plumbing, construction,

commercial agriculture
or water treatment.

- Thank you so much.

The killer is building
something to do

with the city’s
water filtration system.

- And this gives you an idea

as to what you’re trying
to assemble?

- It does.

Would you like to assist me?

- I thought you’d never ask.

- All right.
- Hm.

- So, are you finally finished?

- It appears so.

- Oh!

What is it?

- There are likely still
pieces missing,

but we believe it to be
a water treatment device.

Many cities have begun
to input chlorine

in order to eliminate
waterborne diseases.

That doesn’t sound like
something a killer would build.

- When I was in New York,

there were a few
violent protests

against the addition of chlorine
to the water.

- Typhoid fever and cholera

have largely been eliminated
from large cities

that have begun
to use sanitation systems.

Why would anyone
protest such innovation?

- Is it possible the killer
wants to poison the water

rather than disinfect it?

- Tom, Marge.

Charmed that you can make it.
Come, come, come in.

Uh, excuse me.
Uh, do you remember my husband,

Augustine, chairman of the board
of admissions at Castle Heights?

- Mm.
- Nice to meet ya.

- We have many, many members
to introduce you to.

- See that man over there?
That’s Alfred Bunting.

City officials are being
real sticks in the mud

about his proposal to stop
sidewalks from being put in.

- Why would he do that?
- Where would people walk?

- Top drawer, Tom.

Oh. You’re serious, aren’t you?

- I am.

Why would you make people
walk in the streets?

Surely, they could get hit
by speeding automobiles.

Uh, sidewalks encourage
vagabonds and railyard ghouls

to loiter about our homes
and gawk at what we have.

- Tom, it’s an invitation
to be assaulted

with a sock full of sand
in one’s own yard.

- Mm.
- Who walks in Rathnelly, Augie?

I can’t think of a single soul
that does. Or would.

- Well, Margaret and I
just walked here.

- Right. Of course you did.

Uh, in fact, I’m sure
it’s a joy to walk.

- Fresh air!
- Exercise.

I’ve forgotten
about the fresh air.

Spot on, Elizabeth.

- Well, uh, do walk about.
- Ah!

- And make sure you try
the oysters.

- Yes.
- Shall we, Augie?

- Well, Thomas, well done.

Not two minutes in, and we’ve
already isolated ourselves.

Kiss the lounge goodbye.

- Have a walkabout.

- Ooh! Sale on Tango shoes.

- I’d buy a pair if I had
someone to dress up for.

Well, it might
lift your spirits.

You know what’d lift
my spirits? Finding Sidney.

- Are you sure?

Well, that,
and getting my money back.

- Louise...

Take a look at this.

- Sidney’s advertisement.

I know it. His biography.

"Young professional
seeking a modern woman

who understands a man’s
true strength

is in his ability
to love and be loved."

I fell for that the first time.

Louise,
that’s not a biography!

It doesn’t tell you
anything about him!

Not-not his foibles,
nor his faults.

Nobody would ever tell you
who they truly are

in a little blurb like that.

- Effie,

we should respond
to the advertisement.

- Louise, he’d never agree
to meet with you.

- No, but he would agree
to meet with you!

Yes! You can arrange a date
with Sidney.

- Oh, ah... I could. I don’t...
I don’t know.

- You’ll go on a date
with Sidney.

I’ll confront him
and get my money back.

Ah, Louise,
perhaps it’s best

if we just put this to rest.

- I cannot.
- So, will you help me?

- I fear Toronto suffers
the same affliction

plaguing many cities
in the Western world.

The government
and the medical industry

have climbed into bed together
and birthed a bastard system.

- Oh, dear.
- Who’s the gobshite?

- Language, Thomas!
- That’s Kimbal Vanderwell.

- Well, he’s delusional.

- They collude to make us think

we’re sick to sell us
medicine we don’t need.

They subsist on the fear
of the gullible and the stupid.

- Well, he would know.

And look at this lot.
Gullible, indeed.

- Hush!
- ...important,

unbiased research,

thanks in part
to the benevolence of donors

like the McPhersons.

- So he’s milking the rich?

- I’ll be talking to the Board
of Control tomorrow.

And I am going to change
this city for the good.

- There’s arsenic in this.

- Arsenic?
- Mm-hmm.

Well, he’s had two bottles.
I mean, how deadly could it be?

- Margaret, I’ve investigated
enough murders

caused by arsenic.

Surely you’re not willing
to die just to join this club?

That is
a unique taste.

- Who brought this wine?

- I did. Uh, we did.

- Well done, man.

- Kimbal.
- Thomas.

- Kimbal Vanderwell.

- Of course we know

exactly who you are.

- Oh, then you’re aware
of my affinity

for a quality bottle of wine.

- Well, that wine is dry
and complex.

With a taste of di--
With a hint of terrain.

It looks like we have
some wine aficionados here.

Jenkins, let’s have some
glasses for a toast.

- Ah.
- To the, uh...?

- Oh, Brackenreids. Thomas--

- To the Backenreds!
- Oh!

To the Backenreds!

- To the Backenreds...

Cheers.

- What is this, Murdoch?

- I believe it’s a device
someone built

in order to tamper with
the city’s water supply.

- And this someone killed
a person to build it?

- Possibly.

- Bloody hell.

- What is it, Chief Constable?

- I met someone last night

who thinks our water supply
is already poisoned.

- Who might that be?

- Kimbal Vanderwell.
- Oh! He’s in town?

- You know him?

- I know of him.

I’ve read about his
divisive thoughts

on inoculation in Science
for Tomorrow Quarterly.

I-I was so disappointed
that they printed such drivel.

- Well, you’ll hate this.

Have a look for yourself.

- Arsenic?!

He’s putting arsenic in his own
brand of bottled water.

- Really?
- Yes.

And he’s with City Council
right now

trying to convince them
to go along with him.

- Oh. Oh...

- Devices like these

are tools of subversion,

instruments of trickery

in order to make a dollar
off of you and the public.

Our ancestors drank water
from streams and rivers,

and they were fine.

Now, if you listen
to the pandering medical experts

your government employs,
you can’t even drink

the tap water unless they
douse it with mystery chemicals.

I am proposing...

we use this device

to return the water
to its original state,

the way God intended it.

A careful application of arsenic

will make
for a stronger populace.

Thank you.

- Kimbal Vanderwell.

Detectives Murdoch,
Detective Watts,

- Toronto Constabulary.
- Ah, what can I do for you?

- We have questions.

- Oh, happy to answer them.

- Down at our station house.

- Am I under arrest
for something?

- That will depend
on your answers.

- Listen to yourselves.
- These are absurd allegations.

- We know that whoever killed
Mr. Weems

was building a device
similar to the one

that you were holding today,

only with the intent to poison
the city’s water supply.

- And why would I kill a man
to create a device

anyone in my company could
provide for me in minutes?

- Where were you four days ago?

- I wasn’t in the city then.

Any one of my aides
can confirm this.

- Yes, we’ll be speaking
with them.

Uh, you said the city’s
water supply is unsafe.

- Well, perhaps not unsafe,
but certainly unhealthy.

- And yet you promote a product
that contains arsenic.

- Please. Kings and queens
have consumed arsenic

for centuries.

In small doses,
it makes for an even,

milky complexion,
and acts as a stimulant.

It occurs naturally
in many bodies of water.

It’s hardly an additive.

- We also know the killer
to be an avid smoker.

Healthy habit
in the proper doses.

Mm. What brand
of cigarettes do you smoke?

- I smoke Bensons. What of it?

So, check with my aides.

They will confirm
I was nowhere near Toronto

when this poor Weems fellow
was killed. May I leave?

So, you’ve
released the Vanderwell fella?

There is no
compelling reason to hold him.

- He is a confidence man.

- Currently doing
nothing illegal.

Besides, I very much doubt
he had anything to do

with Mr. Weems’ murder.

- Hm.

But he may be responsible
for some in the near future.

- Hm?

- Well, he’s been mobilizing

most of the city’s la-di-das.

He wants to cease implementation

of chlorine
into the drinking water.

Half the residents of Rathnelly
have signed up to him already.

- Could they sway the council?

- Yeah, of course.

The McPhersons leading
the charge,

Augustine and Elizabeth.

They’ve pulled
considerable funding

from every research facility
in Toronto

to jump on the Vanderwell
bandwagon.

Was Liminus Laboratories
one of the research facilities

affected by the pulled funding?

- The first one shut down.

Never thought I’d be lucky
enough to meet a woman like you.

- And so risky to do so,

taking out notices
in a newspaper.

- No one ever finds love
without some risk.

Have you ever been
in love, Miss Newsome?

I’m sorry. That was much
too forward a question.

- No. No, um...

how does one ever
get to know someone

without asking some questions?

- I suppose my approach
to finding love

changed after my divorce.

- You’re divorced?

- Yes. It’s been but a year.

I was devastated.
She was the love of my life.

But we grew to want
very different things.

I had to let her go.

Neither of us would have been
whole if we’d stayed together.

Do you understand?

- I do.

Have you met many women since?

- A couple.

But none like you.

- And what am I like?

- Confident. Self-assured.

But those are just
first impressions.

I really do hope
I get a chance at a second.

- Bread, madam.
- You very well may.

- Sidney Ballard.

Miss Cherry, I didn’t expect--

- Oh, I bet you didn’t!

How dare you? You don’t show up?

You don’t call?
You’re hardly the gentleman

I thought you were.

- I’m sorry, Miss Newsome.

Miss Cherry was one of the women

I met through
my previous advertisement.

Oh, she knows
very well who I am.

- You two know each other?

- Just what is this?
- I’m sorry, Mr. Ballard.

- Sorry? Don’t be sorry.
- This cheat took $20 off me.

- What $20?
- The $20 you stole from me.

- There must be a mistake.

I had that money sent
to your office the other day.

- Enough lies, Sidney.
- I’m not a liar!

I sent you the money.

But if you misplaced it,
here it is.

Good evening, Miss Newsome.

No chance
of a second impression?

- Oh, I believe you
and Miss Cherry

provided enough of one.

- Could you believe it?

Flirting with you like that.

Thank you for showing me
what a cad he was.

- Of course.

Losing your funding
must have been devastating.

- We were on the verge
of a possible cure

for staphylococcus aureus.

It would have saved
countless lives.

And then the McPhersons
fall prey to a dangerous quack

and it was all for naught.

- Did you confront them?

- Confronted. Prostrated myself.
Begged!

None of it made any difference.

And now everything
we worked on is gone.

- So why are you still here?

- Laboratory or not,

I intend to continue
my research.

They may have stripped us
of our funding,

but they didn’t get
the most important thing.

- What is it?

- It’s gone!
- What’s gone?

- We were storing samples
of the bacteria.

We were going to find a way
to continue our research.

- We?

Dr. Pipkin and myself.

He must’ve taken it.

What is this?
What is this?

These are the city’s
water filtration plants.

- And the one you’ve circled?

It supplies water
to the Republic of Rathnelly.

- Well, that’s where
the McPhersons live.

Stop right there.

- I will not.

You’re under arrest
for the murder of Jasper Weems.

- I didn’t mean to hurt Jasper.
I liked him.

When I responded
to the advertisement,

I-I was surprised to find him.

But I wasn’t prepared to buy it
and he wouldn’t give it up.

- So you killed him?

Don’t do that.

- Why not?

- You’ll be infecting
innocent people.

- Innocent? No, no.
- They are hardly that.

They are aiding a man
who will make everyone sick.

A taste of their own medicine.

- City Council won’t listen
to Vanderwell.

They’ll listen to science.

- Politicians don’t listen
to science.

They listen only to money.

- Think. Think for a moment.

You’re a man of science.

You’ve dedicated your life
to helping people.

If you do this,
hundreds of people

will become ill,
and many of them will die.

Is that how you’d want
to be remembered?

These charts reflect
the dramatic reduction

of cholera and typhoid fever
in two cities,

Maidstone, England
and Jersey City, New Jersey.

Medical officials in both cities

have seen a drastic reduction
of all waterborne ailments

since the introduction
of chlorine treatment

to their main water supplies.

- Those are just numbers,
and numbers lie.

- Numbers can also
tell the truth.

- Our ancestors survived

and thrived on pure,
untreated water.

- Our ancestors existed
in very tiny villages.

They also lived much shorter
lives than we currently enjoy.

- I’m not sure the water
that they drank

had anything to do with that.

- And I’m not sure it didn’t.

Mr. Vanderwell,

are you doing all of this

out of the goodness
of your heart?

- I would be charging a fee.

But I do believe in my findings.

- And I believe in my findings.

- I also believe in the findings

of public health officials
on two continents.

But I will let City Council
decide for themselves.

I met with

the board of admissions.
- How did it go?

- We were rejected.
- Ah! Just like Vanderwell was.

What a complete waste of time.

- Well, not a complete waste.

I thought you might like
to try it.

The bartender at the lounge
said it was their very best.

- This is the good stuff.
- Mm-hmm.

- Did you nick this
from the club?

- Of course not, Thomas.

I purchased it honestly
with my sewing savings.

- So much for the temperance
league, Mrs. Brackenreid.

Oh, well, it’s only
for special occasions.

And, pray tell,
what are we celebrating?

- Us.

To us.

Sidney’s cheque
was in the mail pile.

Damn that Mavis.

She was supposed to go
through it in a timely manner.

- Louise, you can’t blame her.

- I suppose I can’t.

Though I’d very much like to.

I fear this is my lot in life,

lurching from
prospect to prospect,

each more disappointing
than the last.

- Well, you made $20.

- Well, there is that.

And I’m done with this.

- Single career woman

seeks intelligent companionship.

Childless and happy.

Subtitling: difuze