All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S06E08 - Murdoch in Ladies Wear (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

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[ Indistinct talking ]

[ Bell rings ]

Good morning, ladies.

I trust you are prepared
for another day

serving at Eaton and Company,
Canada's greatest store.

And remember,
you are ladies serving ladies.

Which means, Miss Richardson,

no loafing behind the counter,

no engaging in idle chatter.

Isn't that right?

Yes, Mr. Monk.

Miss Richardson,
the ladies of Rosedale

do not want to be served
by a cow chewing her cud.

And as for the rest of you,
I implore you to refrain

from using common familiarities.

Our esteemed customers

do not wish to be referred to
as "dearie."

And please,
no "heaven help me" looks

exchanged while serving.

- What do I expect at all times?
- Decorum, Mr. Monk.

We are
Mr. Timothy's ambassadors.

Decorum.
Thank you, Miss Redmund.

Miss Sykes.

Your services
will no longer be required.

Sir, I can't afford not to work.
Why are you firing me?

You know perfectly well.

I do not make the rules.
I merely follow them.

Collect your wages
on your way out.

Pompous prig.

What are you staring at?

- Flo, I'm very sorry.
- Save your sympathies, Helen.

Monk'll get his
one of these days.

I can't fathom how Flo thought

she could pull one over
on Mr. Monk.

She was foolish to waste
the chance she was given.

Good morning, ladies.

Oh, that looks beautiful,
doesn't it?

What do you think of this one?

Oh, no.
For you, miss, these.

You came back for the cream,
didn't you?

I just knew you would.

Did you see that missus
eyeing the hat pins?

She was about to help herself.

Till Eva closed the case
right smartly.

- She almost took off her finger.
- [ Laughs ]

[ Creaking ]

What are you doing here?

CRABTREE:
Mr. Preston Monk, sir.

He was the manager

at the Eaton Company's
ladies' wear department.

The stock boy found him
first thing this morning.

George, was this open
like this?

Yes.

That's unusual.

The safety mechanism
should have prevented that.

Mm.

It was jammed.

Also unusual.

Sabotage.

Murder.

Awful business, this,
Inspector.

Had Preston Monk
worked here long, Mr. Eaton?

About a year.

My father brought him over
from Harrods in London.

He was helping to train
the shop girls,

give them a bit of polish.

Not an easy task, though they're
working hard to be more genteel.

What sort of man was Monk?

An exemplary employee.

Always had the best interests
of Eaton's at heart.

- A hard taskmaster?
- When he had to be.

Most of these girls came in

lacking even
basic social graces.

Ladies.
Ladies, attention, please.

This is Inspector Blackenreid.

- Brackenreid.
- Brackenreid.

He and his men will be
conducting an investigation

into Mr. Monk's tragic death.

You are to give him
your full cooperation.

Ladies.

Inspector.

In the meantime,

ladies' wear will conduct
business as usual.

Miss Pearce, can I ask you
to act as interim manager?

Of course, Mr. Eaton.

[ Whispering ] What a surprise.

I won't disappoint you, sir.

EATON:
Thank you, Miss Pearce.

I know I can rely on
your discretion in this matter.

Our customers need not know
the details

of Mr. Monk's sudden departure.

- Inspector.
- Mr. Eaton.

A moment, Miss, uh...

Helen Richardson.

You don't think much
of Miss Pearce's promotion?

Pearl should've
been made manager.

She's been here the longest.

Why did Mr. Eaton
choose Miss Pearce?

Whatever Eva wants, Eva gets.

Inspector.

Thank you.

MURDOCH: Dr. Grace.

Yes, Detective Murdoch.
I'm finished here.

Can the body be taken
to the morgue?

Yes.
Thank you, Doctor.

MAN:
Can I help you?

You are?

Jake Barker.

Ah, yes.
You operate this elevator.

Yes.

And you also care
for its maintenance?

Yes. Every night.

I'm curious, then.

Perhaps you can tell me why

I found the safety mechanism
to be jammed.

Monk.

He could never
leave the thing alone.

Complained it made a racket,

disturbed his
precious customers.

I told him
not to go messing with it.

So you believe Mr. Monk
opened the gate?

He always thought that
he knew better than all of us.

Does anyone else operate
this elevator?

No, sir.
Just me.

PEARCE:
I can't believe Mr. Monk's dead.

It's so very, very horrible.

So Mr. Monk was in the habit

of checking the department
before he left?

It seems he's turned out
the lights for the last time.

You're taking his untimely death
rather calmly, miss.

I don't cry easily, sir.
But when I do, it's private.

Certainly Mr. Monk wouldn't
approve of the public displays.

Nevertheless, Miss Pearce,

you may need this.

You must have a quite
a collection of handkerchiefs,

handing them to every woman
in distress.

Thank you anyway.

Are you sure
you don't want to read these

before they go
to Darcy's lawyer?

I'm quite sure.

It's not every day
you're named co-respondent

in a divorce proceeding.

It's your last chance.

Dr. Ogden!

- Dr. Grace.
- How fortuitous.

I was about to share my results
with Detective Murdoch.

Why don't you join us?

I'd be delighted.

Multiple contusions, largely
to the left side of his torso,

which received
the brunt of the impact.

His left arm was broken
in two places,

his hip and left ankle
badly fractured.

And this.

- DR. OGDEN: May I, Dr. Grace?
- Please.

- A most unusual wound.
- I noted that.

Whatever he came
into contact with

had a very specific shape.

MURDOCH: Hm.

Have you a time of death,
Doctor?

Considering rigor mortis,

somewhere between
6:00 and 8:00 p.m.

Very good.

This has been an illuminating
visit, but I must go.

Do you miss the morgue,
Dr. Ogden?

I can't honestly say that I do.

And I'm so happy to see it
in such capable hands.

I'll leave you both
to your corpse.

You said Mr. Monk hit
something very specific?

[ Clears throat ]

I did, Detective.

Mm.

Right, then, George.

We're looking for something
5/16 of an inch

by 1 1/8 inch.

CRABTREE: Well, sir, there are
all sorts of nuts and bolts

and thises and that's
he could hit on the way down,

but not much blood evidence.

With a head injury, as you know,
sir, you bleed like a stuck pig.

That's a very good point,
George.

Perhaps we should
expand our search.

George.

Sir?

Blood.

Monk was killed here
by a blow to the head,

then thrown down
the elevator shaft.

An attempt to make it
look like an accident.

- Seal off the area.
- Sir.

I'm just a working girl
trying to hold down a job.

I don't know anything
about any murder.

How long have you worked
for Mr. Monk?

Four months.
Four long months.

What do you mean?

He has these ways.

He wanted us to become ladies,

and I tried as hard as I could,
but he always found fault.

And did he treat
all of the girls the same way?

All except Eva.

I'm S ry?

Eva Pearce.

I'd never be
like Miss Perfect Pearce,

her flaunting herself
the way she does.

Well, then,
you must be relieved

that Mr. Monk is no longer alive
to torment you.

I lived in fear that he'd let
me go, but I didn't kill him.

I wouldn't go near
that elevator.

Scares me to death, that thing.

I see.

Where were you last night
between 6:00 and 8:00?

I went home.
There's six of us there.

I look after the youngsters
when Mam works the night shift.

Thank you.

Between 6:00 and 8:00?
I was out with the girls.

I understand
Mr. Monk was demanding,

sometimes even demeaning.

Did you find him to be so?

I appreciated what
he was trying to do for us.

Mr. Monk was raising us up,

teaching us better ways
of talking, manners and such.

He told me I had potential
if I was more like Eva.

But no one's like Eva.

- Oh, Miss Pearce?
- Yes.

Detective Murdoch.

I met Inspector Brackenreid.

Your superior, I assume.

Yes.
Yes, he is.

He seems an affable sort.

I don't know
how we can help you, Detective.

None of us would kill Mr. Monk.

If you're looking for a suspect,

Mr. Eaton can supply you
with a list of employees

Mr. Monk dismissed.

And may I ask where you were

last evening
between 6:00 and 8:00?

Do I need an alibi?

It's just a routine question.

I've watched you, Detective.

You seem anything but routine.

If you could
please answer the question.

I was with Pearl
and the other girls.

We arranged
to have a consoling gin

with Florence Sykes.

And what was her mood
last night?

I don't know.
She never showed up.

MURDOCH:
Florence Sykes?

Who's asking?

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

You were let go from the
Eaton's department store, yes?

When did that become a crime?

It's not.
But murder is.

Mr. Monk was killed last night.

Oh, God.

Miss Sykes,
why were you dismissed?

I tried to stop him.
Really, I did.

Stop whom?

My husband, Jim.

It's against
Eaton Company policy

to hire married women,
so he fired me.

And your husband
found out about it.

He stormed off to give Monk
a piece of his mind.

I tried to stop him.

Where might I find Mr. Sykes?

Mr. Sykes?

Mr. Sykes.

Yeah?

What business did you have
with Preston Monk last night?

Who the blazes are you?

Detective Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

Answer me.

Yes, I went there.

So what?

The bastard treated my Flo
like a piece of dirt.

He dismissed your wife,
so you killed him.

What do you mean?

Preston Monk was murdered
last night.

I didn't do anything.

You deny being there?

No. No, no.

I went there, all right,
ready to do him harm,

and I saw another man with him,
a big man.

I couldn't take on both of them.

What time was this?

Between 6:00 and 7:00.
I can't be right sure.

Right, Mr. Sykes, come with me.

I didn't do anything.

Then you have nothing
to worry about, do you?

JIM:
He had a mustache.

This sort of a mustache?

- More of a mustache.
- More of a mustache.

I can assure you, Mr. Eaton,

I've got my best men
working on this.

I appreciate your efforts,
Inspector Brackenreid.

I don't want this morbid affair
to affect morale at the store.

And you've got a reputation
to protect.

Eaton's is one of the biggest
department stores in the world,

but that doesn't mean
our competition

isn't nipping at our heels.

We're investigating this
as discreetly as possible.

My father hopes
to pass on the store one day.

He'd prefer I inherited
an asset, not a liability.

Good day.

Mr. Eaton.

What have you got, Murdoch?

I've just had my ear bent
by Eaton the younger,

so it better be good.

Well, sir,
we have the ldenti-Kit.

Is that all
he could come up with?

That could be any one
of a hundred men.

Hardly worth the effort.

Keep at it, George.

- Are you quite ready?
- Yes, Eva.

I am to be referred to
as Miss Pearce.

Sorry.

Miss Pearce.

Ladies, we can improve our sales
by following a few simple tips.

Remember to flatter
your customers.

They want to hear
how fetching they will look

in their new tea gown.

And touch the dress
as you talk.

The garment will seem
more alluring.

Detective Murdoch.

Good day, Miss Pearce.
Ladies.

And how can we help
the constabulary today?

I wonder if any of you
have seen this man before.

Anyone?

What is a stock boy doing,
presuming to be on the floor?

Pearl, send him away.

Customers are about to arrive.

Come on, Mr. Barker.
Let's go.

How about you?

I've never seen him.

We'll talk about this later.

[ Speaking indistinctly ]

- Darcy.
- Hello, Julia.

Am I interrupting?

I received these
from my lawyer.

It's all very, uh, thorough.

I'm sorry it's such
a tawdry business, Darcy.

I know this isn't easy for you.

Our outing last week... I really
enjoyed being with you again.

Yes.

I'm pleased
that we can be friends.

In the past
I may not have expressed

the affection I have for you,
but I... I really do feel it.

And if you could give me
another chance...

We've decided, Darcy.

I'm not ready
to let you go, Julia.

That's how
you really feel about me?

I'm sorry.

You walk arm in arm with him.

You're seen kissing him
in public.

What are you doing?

If I can't have you for my wife,
neither can he.

Julia, is everything all right?

I'm perfectly fine.

I thoroughly enjoy
being stifled in this cocoon.

What do you mean?

Darcy ripped up
the divorce papers.

Oh.
Why did he do that?

I rejected his advances
and wounded his male pride!

I'm sure he'll come around
in time.

No, he won't.

He's determined to punish me.

What do we do?

We live together.

Openly.

And suffer the scandal.

No, we won't suffer.
Well...

We'll shock everyone
and revel in the outrageousness.

- Julia...
- What do you think, William?

Can we really be that bold?

I... I have to go.

Sir, I collected
the pinch bars you requested.

Very good.

You may want to begin
with this one, sir.

It's from
the ladies' wear stock room.

Right. Can you fetch my
ultraviolet light, please?

- Perfect.
- [ Clicks, hums ]

Could you switch off the lights,
please?

Blood?

Even better.

A fingermark.

I hope this will wash off,
Constable.

It's just printing ink,
Miss Redmund.

But how will printing ink
help find the murderer?

Well, Detective Murdoch...
And myself...

Have devised a way
to raise fingermarks

from surfaces or objects
connected to a crime scene.

You don't say.

It's irrefutable evidence.

A silent witness, if you will.

Very interesting.

Well, we're all done.
Thank you.

You're very knowledgeable,
Constable.

Well, I am the detective's
right-hand man.

He's very lucky to have you.

This idea of a store

that sells everything you need
under one roof

is quite clever, isn't it, sir?

I mean, you could buy a ham,
a hammock, and a hammer,

all without getting wet.

If it was raining, I suppose.

Although if it were raining,

you would probably be
disinclined to buy a hammock.

You'd be better...

Sir.

What is it, George?

A match.

The fingermark on the weapon...

...Is the stock boy,
Jake Barker.

Mr. Barker.

Toronto Constabulary.
Open up.

All right, George.
Have at it.

We're too late.

So it would appear Barker
shot himself, then, sir.

Not so fast, George.

Have a look around.
Tell me what you see.

Nothing unusual.

There are two glasses
on this table,

which would suggest
Mr. Barker had a visitor.

One of the glasses
has his fingermarks,

and the other
has been wiped clean.

Take a look at the stove.

Ash.
It's been used recently.

And yet the last two nights
were quite hot.

Strange inconsistencies.

Exactly.

Bloody hell.

Sir, it would appear
he shot himself.

I can see that, Crabtree.

So Barker kills Monk
and then offs himself.

I'll go and tell
Mr. Eaton the case is closed.

Inspector, I said, "It would
appear he shot himself."

What are you talking about?

Notice the two glasses
on the table, sir...

One covered
in Barker's fingermarks,

the other, none at all,

which would suggest
that somebody else was here.

Somebody who did not want
their identity revealed.

He still shot himself.
He's holding the bloody gun.

MURDOCH:
Actually, sir,

I believe someone else
shot Barker

and placed the gun in his hand.

My thinking as well, Detective.
In fact, it is my thinking...

That's enough thinking
from you, Crabtree.

Don't push it.

So, what's the connection
between Barker and Monk?

Who's got a grievance
with both of them?

Perhaps our mystery man
who was with Monk

also paid Mr. Barker a visit.

Unfortunately, Mr. Sykes
doesn't seem to remember him.

Right.

Well, let's go and see
if we can't awaken

Mr. Sykes' senses, shall we?

It's a bit early for a drink.

How can I help Toronto's
fine constabulary?

BRACKENREID: Is this the man
you saw with Monk?

No.
He was older than that.

And what else?

I described him
as best I could.

Describe him better.

I told you all I know.

He was in the office,
spouting off,

pointing at Monk
with his big, fat cigar.

Hey!

Get yourself a job

and stop having the missus
do your duty.

It's not a very good likeness,

but it could be a chap
who shops here.

What's his name?

Oh, I don't know.
He just buys cigars from me.

Cuban tobacco.

From the Vuelta Abajo region,
to be exact.

It's an expensive cigar
but worth every penny.

I bring them in specially.

I don't suppose you know
where he lives.

No.

If he comes by again,
would you let us know?

Of course.

I didn't know Jake Barker
very well.

When was this photograph taken?

Last year
at the Cabbagetown street fair.

We were at the photograph
booth at the same time.

At the exact same time?
That's quite a coincidence.

What do you mean?

Miss Redmund, I believe
you knew Jake Barker quite well.

I saw the way
you spoke to him in the store.

I was helping him keep his job.

Miss Redmund, if you are
withholding information,

that's obstruction
of a murder investigation.

Now, was he your beau?

He wasn't interested in me.

There are two girls
in the photograph.

PEARCE:
Yes, I knew Jake Barker.

Why did you not tell me?

I didn't think it relevant
to your investigation.

It was quite pertinent,
Miss Pearce.

Jake Barker
murdered Preston Monk.

No.
That can't be.

The evidence is conclusive.

I didn't think
he'd go that far.

Do you know why he killed Monk?

It was my fault.

What do you mean?

Jake and I were together
for a brief time

before I joined
the Eaton Company.

But it wasn't easy,
Detective Murdoch.

If another man
so much as glanced at me,

Jake would fly
into a fit of jealousy.

He saw rivals for my attention
wherever we went.

In the end, I had no choice
but to run away from him.

Miss Pearce, what does this
have to do with Preston Monk?

Mr. Monk changed my life.

He opened up new worlds
I didn't think possible.

Do you know what that feels like
to a girl like me, Detective?

A chance to make a new start?
A chance to be someone?

And then Jake found me.

- When was this?
- Two months ago.

He saw how much time
and attention

Mr. Monk was spending on me.

It drove him mad with jealousy.

He hounded me,
begging me to come back to him.

I pleaded with him to let me go,
but he was relentless.

Did you know
Jake was going to kill Monk?

I never thought him
a violent man.

I didn't realize
how far he'd go.

Now two men are dead
because of me.

Miss Pearce, you now hold
Mr. Monk's position

in the ladies' wear department,
do you not?

I am the interim manager.

So it would seem
that you benefited greatly

from Mr. Monk's demise.

I suppose I did.

I hadn't thought of it
that way.

That's all I have
for the moment, Miss Pearce.

Detective, if I were to Kill,

it wouldn't be
for a job at Eaton's.

I just don't see her
as a murderer.

I'm not sure she is, sir.

You have an opinion, Doctor?

Gentlemen,
you are proof positive.

Miss Pearce
is a classic manipulator.

A somewhat hasty conclusion.

She controlled
the entire interview.

She uses provocative,
distracting gestures.

Her smile.
The smoothing of her dress.

Her choked tears.

Would you like
a more detailed analysis?

Yes, I would.

Miss Pearce
was at her most vulnerable

when you produced the
photograph of her with Barker.

But she quickly used this
to her advantage.

From the moment she said
the murder was her fault,

she was driving the interview.

But I was asking the questions.

Which she used to cleverly
portray herself as the victim,

changing the rhythm
of the interview,

holding you in her gaze.

That's how she disarmed you.

I was hardly disarmed.

Dr. Ogden has got a point,
Murdoch.

I felt it myself
when I met Miss Pearce.

She looked at me as she said...

Inspector.

Like I was someone
she wanted to remember.

As though
you were special to her.

Oh, it would appear
you aren't the only one, sir.

John Craig Eaton.

Heir to
the Eaton family fortune.

I understand
you've been courting Mr. Eaton.

For now.
He finds me quite charming.

That's certainly a step up
from stock boy, Miss Pearce.

I don't need a job at Eaton's.

I have other plans.

Plans that could involve you,
Detective.

DR. OGDEN:
Did you desire her?

Yes, I did.

What do you think?

Well...

You may never feel the same way
about shopping again.

Julia, be serious.

Your dream confirms
my instincts.

Miss Pearce uses her
erotic power to seduce men.

I wasn't seduced.

Consciously,
you were impervious.

But Miss Pearce
invaded your subconscious

and emerged in your dreams.

What do you mean?
She's a siren of some sort?

No.

But Dr. Freud suggests

we are all ruled
by our sexual urges,

consciously or unconsciously.

What does this have to do

with the deaths
of Barker and Monk?

Well, given her power over you,

imagine her hold
on a man already in her thrall.

Are you saying she enticed
Barker into killing Monk?

Quite possibly.

She told me that she wouldn't
kill for Monk's job.

So why would Eva Pearce
want Preston Monk dead?

Mr. Bennett,
we got your message.

Oh, you missed your man.

He picked up his cigars
not five minutes ago.

Did you see which way he went?

Towards the Queens Hotel.

Thank you.

Sir.
Toronto Constabulary.

What in God's name
are you doing?

The detective has a couple
of questions for you, sir.

You're making a mistake.

I'm a private investigator.

I'm working on a matter
of some delicacy.

Thank you
for calling attention to me.

What is your name?

Gerald Biskind.

[ Clears throat ] Mr. Biskind,

did you have a meeting with
a Preston Monk on Monday last?

Yes, I did.

He had me looking into
one of the shop girls.

She had quite the past.

Soliciting, procuring of
other young women.

I gave Monk a file
full of unsavory details.

Which girl was it?

Eva Pearce.

Quite the looker, isn't she?

Eva knew that Monk
made it his business

to check the backgrounds
of the shop girls.

And if Monk knew about her past,
Eva Pearce had to silence him.

Right.

He would ruin her chances of
marrying into the Eaton family.

- She had the motive.
- And a patsy to do it for her.

So when she saw Biskind
arrive that evening

with a file in hand,
she put two and two together...

He was working for Monk.

But then we didn't find
anything in Monk's office.

Barker burned the file.

- The ashes in the fireplace.
- Exactly.

So, Murdoch, how are you going
to prove she was involved?

MURDOCH: Dr. Grace,
have you toxicology results

on Jake Barker's postmortem?

I did discover something.

Let me guess.
Large amounts of a sedative.

Exactly, Detective.
Laudanum to be precise.

He was so sedated
at the time of his death,

he couldn't have held a gun,
let alone pulled the trigger.

He was definitely murdered.

We meet again, Detective.

Miss Pearce.

I now believe that you know
far more about this matter

than you've been saying.

I do?
Enlighten me.

Let's go back to the night

that Preston Monk was murdered.

As you were leaving for home,
you saw a man,

Gerald Biskind,
a private investigator,

arrive at the store.

I don't know any Gerald Biskind.

Oh, that's odd.
Because he remembered you.

Men have a habit
of noticing me.

You were no doubt worried
that Mr. Monk

was going to find out
about your past.

My past?

Come now, Miss Pearce,
we both know what you were.

And you didn't want
anyone finding that out.

Certainly not Mr. Eaton.

That's quite an insinuation,
Detective.

So you devised a plan.

You turned to Jake Barker.

Your former beau.

Jake was besotted.

He would do anything
to earn your favors.

You told him that Monk
was out to destroy you

and had to be stopped.

I don't know what to do.
I need help.

Oh, it's going to be okay.

- Will you help me?
- Yeah.

Jake was in your thrall

until the constabulary proved

that Monk
had indeed been murdered.

Jake got nervous.

He came looking for you.

That's when you realized

that he was becoming
a liability,

And you had to kill him.

I did no such thing.

The two of you met
at Barker's room.

You had drinks.

Like old times.

You poured a powerful
sedative in his drink.

He didn't feel a thing, did he?

You put the gun to his head
and pulled the trigger...

[ Gunshot ]

...then wiped everything
that you had touched clean,

as if you'd never been there.

You knew about
fingermark evidence

because you had overheard.

Constable Crabtree's
helpful information.

You killed Jake Barker,
Miss Pearce.

You have no evidence.
Not one piece.

I fully intend
to prove your guilt.

Take your time, Detective.

Constable.

Miss Pearce will wait for me
in the cells.

You have no right.

In the cells.

That's where we put your kind.

I thought you couldn't get
a fingermark

from such a small casing.

I didn't get
a whole fingermark, sir.

Just part of the outer rim.

That's not a part.
That's a piece of a part.

Even if I can match
just a part of one...

Then we've got her.

I don't say this enough,
Murdoch,

but you do have
some brilliant ideas.

Thank you, sir.

Except that this isn't a match.

It's not her.

Bloody hell.

So if it wasn't Eva who shot
Barker, who the hell did?

MURDOCH:
He was your beau, Miss Redmund.

And she stole him from you.

Eva has a way of getting
everything she wants.

But you figured it out.

You realized that Eva
persuaded Jake to kill Monk.

She seduced him.

Promising they'd be
together again.

He was a fool to believe her.

She had her sights set higher
than the stock boy.

I gave him a chance.

I told him I wouldn't tell
a soul what he'd done

if he came back to me.

He just laughed at me.

And that's when
you decided to kill him

and to frame Eva
for the murder.

It was just desserts
for what they did to Mr. Monk.

And to you, Miss Redmund.

You're free to go, Miss Pearce.

I told the detective
everything Jake said.

How you put him up
to killing Mr. Monk.

Words from a dead man
carry very little weight.

Am I right, Detective?

You won't
get away with it, Eva.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

I'm very happy to see
the end of this sordid affair.

The Eaton family
is very grateful

for your discretion, Inspector.

A word of advice, son...

Don't dip your pen
in the company ink.

So she gets to walk away,
Murdoch,

even though she was the cause
of all this?

I'm afraid so.

You've got to give it to her.

She's a survivor.

DR. OGDEN:
Eva Pearce has enormous power.

Even you were attracted to her.

It was a fleeting moment,
Julia.

[ Chuckles ] A man throws away
his life for a woman,

even kills for her,
he wants her that much.

Apparently.

What about me, William?

Have I asked too much of you
with my immodest proposal?

You are so lovely to me, Julia,

but we can only
truly be together

if we are married.

I won't compromise you.

Probably not the answer
you wanted to hear.

But you have principles.

Yes, I do.

And if you went against them,

you wouldn't be the man
I want to marry.

Really?

Don't be silly.

If anything,
this makes me love you more.

So, what happens now?

We wait.

In time, Darcy will give in.

Perhaps.

In the meantime,
let's enjoy this beautiful day.

Yes.

So, Detective,

have any other
heavenly creatures

entered your dreams of late?

Oh, no, no.
Not at all.

- Just you.
- [ Giggles ]

Excuse me, miss.
You dropped this.

Oh, thank you.

Is everything all right?

Yes.

No.

My sweetheart left me.

I would say that man's a fool.

Oh, you are too kind, sir.

May I interest you
in a cup of tea?

Yes.

That would be lovely.

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