All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S19E13.1080p.WEBRip.x264-BAE_track3_[eng]

(typewriter clacking)

(curious music)

(clacking)

- Mavis?

Mavis!

(footsteps approaching)
- Yes, Miss Cherry?

- Go to St. Lawrence Market

and get me a peameal
bacon sandwich.

I need a pick-me-up.

- You work so hard, Miss Cherry.

- Yes, I do. Now, sandwich!

- Are you Miss Louise Cherry?
- In the flesh.

- Mrs. Abby Smith.
I read your paper.

I need your help.

- Anything for my readers.
Come in.

- My husband, Matthew,
works as a meat cutter

at the abattoir
of Wexler Davies Company.

- An excellent business.
I just sent my assistant out

to get me one of their peameal
sandwiches.

- Yesterday,
Matthew went to work.

Then later that day,

the company sent me
his body in a box.

Said he just dropped dead.

(tense music)

- I'm sorry to hear that.

Did you call the company?

- They gave me their condolences

and insisted it was
natural causes.

But I'm convinced
that place killed him.

- Really?

- Could you please find out
what happened?

- You want me to look into this?

- I told the policemen
at Station House Three,

but they didn't think
there was a case.

My husband was
the picture of health

before he started there.

- I'm sorry.
What would you have me do?

Go after the police?
- I want you to find out

how my husband died.

I read all your articles.
You're a great investigator.

- Of course I am.
- Then prove it.

- Well, has his body
been buried?

- No. He's still
at home for the wake.

(sighs)
- Good.

Can I have it?

(scoffs)

(church bells ringing)

(birds chirping)

- I came as soon as I got
the call.

What have you, Watts?
- The bank teller said

he arrived this morning
to find this.

- And the vault?
- It cracked,

but remained shut and intact.

All that was taken
was some loose cash.

- Well, then,
it's fortunate no one was hurt.

- Mm.

(blowing)

- Any thought as to what
kind of explosives were used?

- Difficult to say,
but, given the localized

obliteration, I would say a very
high-velocity explosive.

- Well, they didn't get
away with much.

- Which means they may
try again,

and next time,
innocent bystanders

may not be so fortunate.

(theme music)

- Two local merchants
said they heard the explosion

shortly before seven
this morning.

But they didn't see
much other than smoke.

- Seven a.m. Most of them would
have been closed at the time.

- Which is why thankfully
no one was hurt.

- And also why we have
very few witnesses.

- Mm.

(hooves clopping)

(light curious music)

- Mr. Boudreau.
- Detective.

I haven't seen you
since the trivia competition.

- Yes. The competition in which
you tried to trick me.

- I believe I succeeded
in tricking you.

- What exactly are you
doing here, Mr. Boudreau?

- I work in the neighbourhood.

- Oh. You don't say.

- I got a job in a warehouse
not too long ago.

- And what were you doing
this morning?

(chuckling)

- You think I had something
to do with that?

- Well, you do have
a criminal record

of multiple robberies
and, significantly,

some of those robberies
were at banks.

- That was the past.
I'm an honest man now.

- Who just happens to be
wandering around

near the site of an attempted
bank break-in.

- Because I work at
Grundy's Warehouse

down the street.

Good luck with
your investigation.

- He was a meat cutter?
- Yes.

- Hm. Seems he and I
are birds of a feather. Hm.

- Very funny, Miss Hart.
Anything of note?

- Well, his organ tissues
are unusually pale.

Seems he died
from low blood volume.

- Do tell me more.

- He was severely dehydrated,

which can cause
hypovolemic shock.

- Dehydration?
- Mm.

- You're sure?
- I'm certain.

He had a cracked tongue
and crusted nasal passages

and his upper
respiratory tract

was irritated
from the water loss.

- That's very strange, isn't it?

The man was only in his 20s.

He shouldn't have died.

Is there anything
that could have caused

the dehydration?

- Well, I suppose breathing
in caustic chemicals

could dehydrate
mucous membranes.

- So he was forced to toil

for months around
toxic substances.

- Well, that's very possible,
but I, uh--

- It's also possible
that his place of work

could have caused his death.

- I did no--
- Yes.

And I'm going to find out.

- Our constables already
spoke to the warehouse workers.

No one there saw anything.

- I want to ask them about
François Boudreau.

- You suspect him?
- It can't be a coincidence

that a former robber
just happened to be

nearby a bank bombing.

Hello.

- Can I help you?
- Ah, Detective Murdoch,

Toronto Constabulary.
Detective Watts.

You must be Mr. Grundy?

- I already spoke
to your policemen.

- Yes. Uh, I-I'd like to confirm

if a François Boudreau
works here.

- Why do you ask?

- Well, we have reason
to believe

he may have been involved
in the attack

on the bank up the street.

- And I suppose you think

it's because he's done time
in jail?

- You're aware?

- Bunch of my guys
have served time.

But they all turned a page.

- Uh, can you confirm
that Mr. Boudreau

was working inside
the warehouse,

uh, shortly before
7 a.m. this morning?

- I can, indeed.

Take a look at this.
"F. Boudreau."

Clocked in today, 5 a.m.

Now, if you don't mind,
I have work to do.

(mysterious music)

- Interesting.
- What's that?

- Mr. Boudreau was scheduled
for a break shortly before 7.

- The time of the bombing.
- Well--

- So Boudreau did have
a pocket of free time.

- Well--
- He could have left

the premises. Right.
Find out his current address.

(lively orchestral music)

- It's looking good.
Nice thickness.

(indistinct background chatter)

Nice and neat.

(tools clanging)

(whirring)

Welcome to the plant.
Miss Reed, was it?

- Yes, I'm Miss Hilda Reed.

- Frank Bale. I'm your foreman.
- Nice to meet you.

- It's good to have you here.
You see,

I prefer hiring women
for this role.

- Why's that?
- Ladies have nimble fingers;

better suited
to sausage stuffing.

- Mmm.
- Follow me.

Over here, we have chopping.

In the corner there,
with all the paper,

that's the packaging.

And back there, that is where
we do the killing.

- Seems like a tight ship.

- We process half a million hogs
every year,

including 300,000
world-class sausages

that you are about
to help prepare.

Which brings me
to one small warning.

- What's that?
- By the end of your shift,

your fingers are gonna feel like
pretzels from tying sausages.

- Mm.
- But don't worry.

You'll get used to it.

(loud rumbling, clanging)

(laughing)

That's just the meat grinder,
Miss Reed.

The machinery resets itself
twice a day, 11 a.m. and 7 p.m.

Mr. Davies!

It's the big man himself.

- Hey, Frank.
And who do we have here?

- This is Miss Hilda Reed.
It's her first shift.

- Hm. Our female employees
are some of our company's

greatest assets. Welcome.

Uh, Frank's a good man.

You listen to him,
you'll be right as rain.

- Chuck!
Can I have you a moment?

This is Miss Hilda Reed,
first day on the line.

- Chuck Marson.
- Pleased to-- Oh!

I'm sorry. I didn't--
- You're fine.

- Chuck has done just about
every job here.

Now, would you mind
showing Miss Reed the ropes?

- Leave her with me.
Shall we start?

- Mm.
- This will be your machine.

This is the fresh minced meat.

Pack it into the cylinder,

not too tightly, or it'll jam.

Go on.

- Hm. Uh, my fingers
won't get caught, will they?

- This wasn't from, uh,
stuffing sausages.

- No.

- Now crank it slow and steady.

Twist it into six-inch links.

Once you get to the end,
tie it off. Ta da.

- You like your job here,
don't you?

- You're damn right.
I'm feeding the city,

the country, all of Britain.

How many people get to say that?

- Fair. So, what did happen
to your finger?

- Oh. I lost it in
a meat grinder a few years ago.

Don't worry, it didn't get
into any of the sausages.

Least I don't think so.

- How horrible.
- I've gotten used to it.

- So the work here is dangerous?

- It was my fault.

A-an accident.
Every job comes with risks.

- I heard a worker died here.

Someone named Matthew Smith.

It's just something I heard
the workers chatting about

while I was in line
for my interview.

- His death was unfortunate.

But the man was impatient.

He should have paced himself.

- What do you mean?
- He thought he'd receive

a raise if he worked faster.

Everyone noticed when he started
skipping breaks.

I say he drove himself
into the ground.

- Is it possible he died from
inhaling airborne chemicals?

- Corrosives and irritants are
not allowed in the abattoir.

We use hot water and scrapers
to clean tools and surfaces.

- I did wonder why the air
didn't smell as toxic

as I thought it would.
- Now you know.

Now, hop to it, Miss Reed.

These sausages are not going
to stuff themselves.

- Oh.

(curious music)

- If Mr. Boudreau is involved,

there could be explosives
in his home.

- And why do you think
he's involved?

- Past history.

A leopard doesn't
change his spots.

- John Locke would disagree.

A man is born with a mind
like a tabula rasa.

Human nature isn't fixed.
It's malleable.

- Well, you'll have to pardon me
if I disagree

with the Empiricists.
His apartment should be right...

- What are you doing here?

- Mr. Boudreau, we're here
to search your home.

- What? You have no right.

- We know you were on a break

when the Bank of Toronto
was bombed.

- And you think in that scant
15 minutes,

I had enough time
to set up and detonate a bomb?

Voyons.

- Then where were you?

- I was in the public lavatory
relieving myself.

You can check with
the attendant if you like.

And, I have to tell you,
if you enter my home,

it's an unlawful entry.

- So you have something
to hide then?

- I'm merely exercising
my rights under the law.

Now, please, get out of here.

- Your actions continue
to arouse my suspicions.

- Given your nature,
that hardly surprises me.

(bell rings)

- All right, gentlemen,
let's make sure those

workstations are spotless!

Miss Reed. Hm.

Not bad for your first day.

But I'm going to expect
double the number

of sausages by next week.

(indistinct chatter)

(mysterious music)

- Excuse me.

- Who're you?

- I'm... Miss Hilda Reed.

I just started working
here today. And you are?

- Why are you down here?

- Funny, I could ask you
the same thing.

I simply got lost.

- I'm Arthur.
That's Barry and Curtis.

- Is this... soap?

Why exactly are you hiding
down here

cutting up bars of soap?

- Can you keep a secret?

- I've been known to.

- We're making soap using lard
from the abattoir.

We sell it to apothecaries
in the city.

- Think of it as
a supplemental side job.

- More like stealing.
- We work all day

on the killing floor,
yet it's barely enough

to put food on the table.
I've got a wife and five kids.

- Please don't tell anyone.

- I won't, on one condition.

- And that is?

- Tell me what you know about
the death of Matthew Smith.

- Matthew Smith?

- I heard he died here just
yesterday. Surely you remember.

- 'Course I do. He fell dead
near the end of his shift,

right on the floor.
- What happened?

I'm an employee here now.
I'm curious.

- I'm not a doctor.
I don't know what happened.

- I do.

He was trying to bite off
more than he could chew.

Barely stopped to rest.
Worked himself to death.

- Meat cutting isn't easy.

Many men can't handle it.
Remember Jimmy?

- Oh, yeah.
- Who's Jimmy?

- Jimmy Ganting.

He used to work here
not too long ago.

- Go on.
- One day, the place got

too much for him.
He just stopped showing up.

He didn't even clean out
his locker.

Had new work boots
and everything in there.

- And you have no idea
what happened to him.

- I assumed he called it quits.

- Too bad. He was
a bright young fellow.

- Where can I find this Jimmy?

Mr. Ganting? Are you home?

(tense music)

Mr. Ganting?

(soft tense music)

(sniffs)
Ugh...

(curious music)

- What did you do to him?

Who are you?

- Put the knife down.
- Answer the question.

- Calm down. I'm here to help.

My name is Louise Cherry.
I'm a journalist

at The Sentinel. I wanted
to speak with Mr. Ganting.

- About what?

- Some of his co-workers
at the meat plant said

that he stopped coming to work.

I wanted to know why.

Maybe you know, Miss...?

- Emily Wicker.

I haven't seen Jimmy
in two weeks.

I'm scared sick.

- You and he were sweethearts?

- Yes.

I was walking by
and I saw the window open.

I was hoping he'd be home.

What do you want with him?

- Why did he stop working
at Wexler Davies?

- Jimmy's a vegetarian.
We both are.

- Vegetarian?

Why would a vegetarian
work at a slaughterhouse?

(scoffs)

Essays on Vegetarianism?

- Ah, Dr. Kingsford said,
"Those who eat flesh

are responsible for the horrors
of the slaughterhouse."

This inspired Jimmy.

We believe that a wish
not to harm animals

naturally results
when we recognize

your relationship with them.

- Good for you. That still
doesn't answer my question.

Why would a vegetarian
work at a place like that?

- He took the job to document
that cruelty

that went on there.
He said that if the public

could see it for themselves,
it could change some minds.

- And you really haven't
seen him for the past two weeks?

- No. I have no idea
what's happened to him.

You said you were a journalist?
- I am.

- Jimmy took these photos
at the plant.

I haven't had the nerve
to develop them, but...

- Could I have them?

- Only if you promise
not to publish them

until I know what's happened
to Jimmy.

- You have my word.

(soft music)

- Watts. I just spoke
with a former associate

of Mr. Boudreau's,
a Mr. Russell Volk.

The two of them were both
involved in that bank robbery

a decade ago.
- You think Volk is behind this?

- I don't know. But he did say

that he saw Mr. Boudreau
splurging at a bar last night.

Apparently, he ordered rounds
of drinks for everyone

and made Mr. Volk wonder how
he could afford such a thing.

- You think it was the cash
stolen from the Bank of Toronto?

(phone ringing)

- Detective Murdoch.

Chief Constable Brackenreid.

Mr. Boudreau?

Yes, I did speak with him.

He's a suspect in the attempted
bank robbery at--

Yes, sir, but I--

- Anything of note?

- Apparently Boudreau has filed
a complaint at City Hall.

Claims that I am harassing him

and the Chief Constable
wants me to back off.

- So are you going to?

- Dehydration?
- Yes, Mrs. Smith.

It appears that your husband
declined to take breaks

while doing strenuous work.

The overwork killed him.

- The fool.

- If it's any comfort,
he was trying to get a raise.

He was thinking of his family.

- I'd rather he become a thief
and live than die among pigs.

(sighs)

- Miss Cherry. I have the photos
you had developed and printed.

You smell like sausage.

- Just give me
the pictures, Mavis.

- It's a nice smell.

(mysterious music)

This isn't easy to look at.

- That's exactly what Jimmy
Ganting would've liked to hear.

- Who is that?

- Frank Bale.
The foreman at the plant.

- He looks angry.

- Wager he found out about
Jimmy's project.

- Well, I suppose this
is the answer to my question

as to what you are going to do.

- Boudreau remains
our most viable suspect.

But if you don't care
to be involved...

Interesting. That certainly
looks like trespassing to me.

- We may as well
go down together.

(tense music)

Mr. Boudreau.
What is your business here?

- Nothing that concerns you.

- You're under arrest
for trespassing.

- Isn't this exciting.
- Oh? What's that?

- Watching you play with fire.

(grinding, creaking)

- Mr. Marson.

- It's Chuck. What do you want?

- Why the rubber bands?

- Oh. It gives me a better grip.

After a couple hours of this,
you work up a sweat.

- Resourceful indeed.

You've worked with Frank
for a while now, right?

- I have. Why do you ask?

- Just wondering
how well you know him.

- Frank's a decent fella.

One of the best foremen
I've seen.

- So he never had any conflicts
with any workers?

- He's a foreman.
Of course there's going to be

beef from time to time.
But he's a good man.

- Did he get along with
Jimmy Ganting?

- You know Jimmy Ganting?

- I heard workers
talk about him.

Apparently, he just
walked off the job.

Left all his possessions behind.

Why would someone do that?

- I don't know a man's mind.
I reckon few do.

All I know is he quit
just after a few months.

Didn't find the job interesting
enough, I suppose.

- Why are you asking
about Frank?

- Since you let me in
on your secret,

I'll let you in on mine.

My name is Louise Cherry.
I'm actually a journalist.

- Then why are you here
stuffing sausages?

- I'm writing a story about
what it's like to work

in the biggest meat plant
in all of the British Empire.

But they don't know that yet.

- You're undercover? Why?

- Sometimes people shut up
when a journalist is around.

- I don't blame them.

I should get back to my work,
Miss Cherry.

- One question?
- One.

- Were Frank Bale
and Jimmy at odds?

- At odds? Yeah, I'd say.

They spent most of their time
shouting at each other.

- About what?
- You name it.

Best get back to work.

Come to Ryan's tonight.
I'll tell you all about it.

- Need some help?
- Uh--

- Oh, here. Let me show you.

- You were within
walking distance

of the Bank of Toronto,

and you were on break
at the time of the explosion.

- I already told you I couldn't

possibly have robbed a bank.
I was in the--

- I know what you told me.

I also know that you spent
a great deal of money

on frivolities in the hours
immediately after the robbery.

- I think it's telling
that you call

treating my friends
"frivolities."

- Excuse me?
- And your thinking.

It's much more limited
than I gave you credit for.

- Care to explain that?
- I'm a safecracker.

An artist.
If I wanted to rob the bank,

I wouldn't need to blow it up.

- But you do have
the expertise to do so.

- Oh, mon dieu, I think
I heard a compliment.

- What were you doing on private
property when we arrested you?

- I saw you following me,

so I tricked you into thinking
that I was up to no good.

And you fell right into my trap.

Now I can tell your boss that
you failed to cease and desist.

(explosion)

(distant shouting)

What's the closest bank
to the station?

- The Dominion.

- It sounds like someone's
making another withdrawal.

Does this mean I'm free to go?

- Same. Just one.
- Frank, may I speak with you?

(loud clanging)

- Must be jammed.

(grunts)

(sighs)

- I thought I told you butchers

to watch what
you threw in there.

- Look at the yellowing.

I-It must have been in there
for weeks.

- That is Jimmy Ganting.
You did this!

- What are you talking about?

- You knew Jimmy was taking
photographs of the place.

Did you throw him
into the grinder?

- That's ridiculous.

- I have a photograph
of you attacking him.

- Where did you get that?
You are fired!

Give me that!

- What is going on here?

- Your foreman pushed a worker
into the grinder.

Did you know about that?

- Who the devil
are you talking about?

- My name is Miss Louise Cherry.

I am the editor-in-chief
of The Sentinel.

Your workers are dying,
Mr. Davies,

and this time it's murder
being covered up.

- Give me that.

You get out of my plant. Now.

And if you print a word
of these scurrilous lies,

I will destroy you.

- Watts?

(mysterious music)

- Looks like the robber was able
to blow the vault

wide open this time.

- Was anyone inside?
- No, no.

The bank was closed
for lunch hour.

I... spoke too soon.

I just talked to a bank clerk
who returned from lunch.

She says nothing seems to have
been taken from the vault.

- Interesting.

The body was found
having faced the blast.

Perhaps the dead man
is the culprit.

- The explosives detonated
earlier than he intended.

- It's possible.

Hopefully Miss Hart
can help identify the body.

Mr. Boudreau.
This is a crime scene.

- I'm a free man, Detective. Hm.

- Just because you were released
doesn't mean you're innocent.

- What does that mean?
- You could have accomplices.

- And you could very well be
delusional.

I had nothing to do with this.

- All right, then leave.

(sighs)
- You know,

I have extensive knowledge
when it comes to explosives.

You know what kind it is yet?

I guess not,
because if you did,

you would have taken
that opportunity

to flaunt your knowledge.

- Do you know what kind it is?

- Mm. I can tell
that it's homemade.

Mm. You know what?

Take me to the body
and I'll help you with the case.

(scoffs)
- Absolutely not.

If you know something,
tell us now.

- Remnants of the explosives
may be embedded in the body.

I took a look, I could
give you some answers.

- What's in it for you?

- A chance to prove
that I am innocent.

And, also, maybe
the satisfaction of seeing

the look on the detective's face

when he realizes
that I'm smarter than he is.

- I highly doubt that.

- So it wasn't
the working conditions

that killed Matthew Smith
after all.

- No. But I discovered someone
who really was murdered.

- Jeez, Louise,
another dead man?

- I believe a foreman pushed
a worker named Jimmy Ganting

into a meat grinder

and Wexler Davies
is trying to cover it up.

- What makes you think so?

- Well, he banned me from
the factory when I told him.

- Well, perhaps he just thought
it was a ridiculous notion.

- Anyhoo, now that I have time
to write,

I'm going to expose
these people for murder.

- Louise, I thought you were
just trying to sell papers.

Are you really trying
to take down this company?

- Why not? I can kill
two birds with one stone.

- Well, be careful.

It's a powerful company you're
setting yourself up against.

- Well, I must publish this.

My readers would be
very interested to know

that their sausages could
contain bits of Jimmy Ganting.

- You don't have any evidence!

They could sue you for libel.

- I'll get evidence.

(crickets chirping)

(low tense music)

(door creaking)

(gasps)

(groaning)

(door closes)

- The explosives
were nitroglycerin.

- Based on the oily shrapnel,
I'd bet money on it.

- There could be residues
of nitrates on the shrapnel

if that's the case.

- We could test it in a solution
of diphenylamine.

- Everything I learned
about homemade explosives,

I learned in jail.

- I highly doubt
they had such books.

- Thank you for remembering that
I'm excellently well-read,

but no. This knowledge
came from other inmates.

- Detective.
It isn't a perfect test,

but based on this
and everything else I see,

I'd say Mr. Boudreau is right.
- Ah! What do you say to that?

- You knew it was nitroglycerin

because you were in on it
with someone.

- Voyons. You're impossible.

- It's no wonder that
the explosives detonated early.

Nitroglycerin
is extremely volatile.

- Violet.
- Louise.

- You smell like a butcher shop.

- Thank you, Detective.
Miss Hart,

can you please verify
that this bone belongs to a man?

- Miss Cherry,
what is going on here?

- While undercover,
I gathered evidence

that a worker was killed
at the Wexler Davies Company

meat plant.
They're covering up the murder.

- You mean that's...?
- Yes, that's him,

Jimmy Ganting,
a vegetarian activist

who secretly photographed
the slaughterhouse.

He went missing and he turned up
inside the meat grinder.

- Miss Cherry,
do you have any proof?

- That's the proof.

- The shapes of these osteons
are far too irregular.

This is definitely not human.

- You're sure?
- I am. Now if you'll excuse us.

- That's Arthur.

- You know this man?

- He's a meat cutter
at Wexler Davies.

- Another meat cutter?

- How is a meat plant worker
involved in bombing banks?

- What do you know about him?

(sighs)
- He struggled to make

ends meet. So much so
that he and two other workers

sold soap made out
of stolen factory lard.

- Wha--
(Murdoch and Boudreau): Soap?

- Yes.

- Nitroglycerin is made
by using glycerin.

- It's a by-product
of saponification.

Soap-making.

- So these workers
could be responsible

for making the explosives
used in the bank bombings.

- Maybe Jimmy was killed
because he found out

they were making explosives.

- Miss Cherry, take me to where
they were making this soap.

- Yes and perhaps you should
find some soap and some water

yourself, Miss Cherry.

- Right.

(door closes)

This is where I saw them.

- Chemistry equipment.

- Is that...?

- Nitroglycerin.

Why would someone leave this
extremely sensitive substance

unsealed, uncovered,
and unattended?

This could detonate
with the slightest shake!

- Um, what time is it?

- It's, uh...

ten to seven. Why?

(exhales)
- Every day at seven,

the factory floor shakes
for a minute

as the meat grinder resets.

- The workers meant
for this to explode?

The-the tremors would likely
trigger the nitroglycerin

and obliterate all evidence
of their soap-making enterprise.

- You're saying this whole room
could explode in ten minutes?

- The entire factory,
Miss Cherry.

We need to get out of here.

- The door's locked.

- It's a closet lock.
It's very common

for storage rooms.
Can't be opened from the inside.

- Don't tell me we're trapped.

- All right.

But we are.

- What do we do?

- Ethanol.

Twenty litres.

That's, uh,
32 kilograms by weight.

Each one of these bottles
of ethanol is 175 millilitres.

That is 138 grams.

- Is this really the right
time to be calculating--?

- E-Ethanol can, uh,
can desensitize nitroglycerin,

making it less hazardous.

But we need to dissolve at least
ten percent of it by weight,

so that is... se... seventeen...

23 bottles of ethanol,

and I need to pour
every one of them into this.

- What if you kill us?
- Miss Cherry,

unless you have a better plan,

I suggest you take out
one of those hairpins

and start trying
to pick the lock, hm?

(tense music)

(gasping)

(suspenseful music)

Twelve... thirteen...

We have less than five minutes!

(gasping)

(gasps)
Oh, no, my hairpin!

(gasps)

(whispering): Miss Cherry!
What is it?

- It's a body.

- We don't have time
for that now!

(grunts)

(lock clicks)

- I got it! The door's open.

- ...ty-three.

Let's go.

(suspenseful music)

Wait!

Seven-oh-one.

The nitroglycerin must be
successfully desensitized.

(panting)

- That dead man
was Jimmy Ganting.

- Are you sure?

- I've seen his photograph.

His lady friend confirmed it.

So, the bomb makers
did kill him after all.

- We need to find them.

- I think I know where
they are tonight. Come on.

Hi, pals.

- Oh, it's you.

- Where's Arthur?

- He's... not feeling well.

- Are you sure you didn't
just leave him at the bank?

The two of you are under arrest
for attempted robbery,

destruction of property and--

- The murder of Jimmy Ganting.

- What?
- Murder?

- Jimmy Ganting's body was found

in a crate of curing salts
in the basement.

- We didn't put him there.
- Why would we kill Jimmy?

- To silence him
after he found out

about your bomb-making
operation.

- We're telling you,
we're not murderers.

- We just wanted to make
some money.

We never meant
to hurt anyone.

- Until one of your own died
from a bomb that you made.

- Making explosives was never
part of our initial plan.

- You made and sold soap
from stolen factory supplies.

But then you got greedy
and went after the banks.

- No. We did make soap.

We actually thought we might
have a shot at setting up

a proper business.

But we got rejected for a loan
at every bank in the city.

- And that angered you.

- Of course. We feed the city,

but we can't get a leg up.
Damn right it angered us.

- So you decided
to get back at them.

- Wouldn't you?
- But when Arthur died,

you changed course.

And set up the explosion
in order to cover up

all evidence of your scheme.

- And that's all we did.

- Then what about
Jimmy Ganting's body?

- We didn't know
it was there. On my word!

(sighs)

- Be sure you fill this
with sawdust

before you move it an inch.

- Mm-hmm.

- Detective,

I can assure you nothing
untoward is going on here.

- There are questions
that remain unanswered.

But be grateful your factory
is still standing.

- I suppose I owe you
an apology.

You saved my plant.

- For now.

- Stop!

- What is it?

Are those rubber bands?

- They are.

- I know whose knife that is.

- Jimmy would talk about
animal cruelty.

I thought, "Who the hell
is this idiot

and what is he doing here?"

Then I saw him with a camera.

- You were worried he might
harm the company.

- I tried to reason with him,
but he wouldn't hear any of it.

We argued. I saw my knife and...

You know I've killed
plenty of hogs before.

Killing a man was... different.

But it had to be done.

- Why put him in the basement?

- I was going to move him later.

Never knew those men were
making soap down there.

- So you never got the chance?

- Those idiots.

Whatever happened to honest,
hard work?

(indistinct chatter)

(church bell ringing)

- I just read Miss Cherry's
article.

So, they really did
make soap out of factory lard.

Resourceful.
- Don't go looking

for any ideas, Mr. Boudreau.

- I have no interest in lard,
or explosives.

But they really made
a silk purse

out of a sow's ear. I like that.

- Hm.

And we wouldn't have
figured it out

without your help.

- I... wish to apologize.

I acted rashly on my assumption
that you were involved in this.

- So you'll leave me alone?
Parfait.

- On the contrary, Mr. Boudreau.

What if in the future I require

your knowledge of miscellaneous
deplorable topics?

- Well, I guess I'd never
turn down the opportunity

to make you admit that I know
something you don't.

(playful music)

- So you do believe leopards
can change their spots.

- Even if they have
faded somewhat... no.

- "Driven by meagre salaries,

workers turn
to illicit activities,

such as stashing fresh lard
from the hogs they slaughtered

with their own bare hands.

They churn out explosives
inside a clandestine dungeon

of the very factory
they're stealing from."

Well, I'm glad you at least
stuck to the facts

and left out the part
about a worker

getting pushed
into the meat grinder.

- The truth was enough.

- You know, Louise, for a moment
I actually thought you cared

about these workers,
but this article

paints them
as absolutely fiendish.

- Really? I thought
I wrote them as brilliant.

- Oh, good Lord!

You got these photographs
from vegetarians?

- Nice, aren't they?

- Miss Cherry,
I want to thank you

for publishing Jimmy's work.

- Unveiling the truth is what
I was born to do, my dear.

- Perhaps he died for something.

People ought to know the cost

of what they put
in their bodies.

- Mm. Oh!

(gasps)
- Miss Cherry!

- What? I made these myself.

Mm...

Mm!

(theme music)

Subtitling: difuze