Original subtitles

So... I'm just meant to swallow it whole?

Have no fear, sir. It's a dose of good health.

Fine fettle for 24 hours or your money back.

Money back?

Well, no need. I think I feel better already.

What do you call them?

"Isolated Accessory Food Factors."

They're amines vital for the body.

Vital amines.

Well, here's what you could call them... vitalamines.

No. Uh, vitalmines.

Vittlemines.

Vi... Vita...

Vitalamines. Yeah.

Hello. I'm Dr. Julia Ogden.

I believe I've heard of you.

Oh. You.

Because of your husband, I lost my laboratory.

And my research experiments

have been put on hold.

Well, it appears you're back on your feet.

This is quite impressive.

- Miss Demeter, isn't it? - Marilyn Clark.

It's all theoretical. I need funding.

I understand you are trying to achieve a world without men.

First, we need to perfect refrigeration techniques

to allow the fluid extracted from the male to be preserved.

- By fluid, you mean... - Oh.

A centrifuge would then sort particles

according to density, allowing us to eliminate

those carrying the male chromosome.

And then, finally, each remaining spermatozoon

would be combined with a single egg from the mother.

Outside of the womb?

Eventually, yes.

My initial findings indicate numerous complications.

First, I hope to achieve my aims

through intrauterine fertility methods.

And you believe that to be possible?

Of course.

Why wouldn't it be?

I see.

Well, thank you.

Dr. Ogden. There you are.

I afforded myself a break to go see some of the other booths.

It's remarkable.

Yes, well, I've just been across the way here,

trying some health supplements.

I'd be wary of those, George.

Many so-called physicians pass off placebos

as medicine these days.

Some are actually harmful.

I don't think in this case, Doctor.

I mean, if you're not satisfied,

they'll give you your money back.

They would hardly do that with a product that didn't work.

In any case, the detective has asked that I come and find you.

There's something happening outside you'll want to see.

Those before me have been content

to experiment on animals.

Julia, George.

He's really going to do it.

To do what?

A human organ transplant.

What's he going to transplant, sir?

A foot? A head?

A kidney.

Of course, such an endeavor is fraught with peril.

Most surgeons, even the greatest in the world,

would not dare make the attempt.

But I assure you,

in my hands, the procedure will be completely safe.

The well-being of my patient is paramount.

The donated kidney has already been successfully removed

with no damage to the organ,

and it awaits us in the operating theater.

- Where did it come from? - All great advancements

begin with two factors...

Risk and genius.

Both will be on display this afternoon.

- Who are they? - I have no idea.

The surgery will commence momentarily.

Please come inside

- and find your seats. - Ready?

Excuse me, Doctor.

This seems like an extremely dangerous endeavor.

- Not in my hands, madam. - Are you aware

of Dr. Landsteiner's research on blood types?

How do you know about Landsteiner?

I'm a police detective.

His work was relevant to an investigation.

In fact, I visited Landsteiner in Europe last year.

Blood compatibility is crucial

to the success of any transfusion or transplant.

If there's nothing else...

Butcher!

You will kill this woman.

Organ transplantation is still impossible, and you know it.

This woman has months to live, possibly less.

She is a willing participant.

Fear and convention would condemn her to death.

I bow to neither.

Clamp.

Sponge.

We're close. Bring out the organ.

Ligature.

There's too much blood. Cauter.

She's still bleeding.

Should I put it back on ice?

No! Get me a sponge.

- We've used them all. - Well, then run the suction.

- It's running. - Do it faster! Damn it!

Clamps. Suction!

Sponges. Get me something.

I can't see anything.

- There's too much blood! - That's it.

Ladies and gentlemen, the surgery was unsuccessful.

- No. - Aw.

No!

She bled to death.

He must have nicked the abdominal aorta.

Is that common?

Not for an experienced surgeon.

And if that is what happened, he should have noticed right away.

That poor woman.

What way to die, in front of a room of spectators.

Surely she consented to the surgery.

She may not have known the risks.

This Dr. Lennox could have misrepresented his abilities.

- Or he simply made a mistake. - You there.

- You're the detective, yes? - That's right.

I have a crime to report.

- Sabotage. - Sabotage?

- How is that possible? - I don't know.

But my patient is dead, and it had nothing to do with me.

Well, you're the surgeon. Surely you're responsible.

Who are you?

Dr. Julia Ogden, city coroner.

You cut up the dead. I am a surgeon.

I have an instinct for the living flesh under my knife.

There is no doubt

something was terribly wrong from the first incision.

Do you have evidence?

This very morning, some hours before the surgery,

I double-checked all my equipment,

only to find that my tank of anesthetic had been drained.

Luckily, I had time to obtain a replacement

and didn't have to cancel the operation.

But then that wouldn't have affected the operation itself.

Well, no, but where there is sabotage,

there is more sabotage.

Whoever did this must be found out and punished.

There you are.

And how exactly is this my fault?

Whose fault is it, then?

Why does it have to be anyone's fault?

Everything is someone's fault, Thomas!

You are always pushing him!

I'm his father. I'm supposed to push him.

We can't both sit around mollycoddling the boy.

Oh. He could do anything he wanted with his life.

He could be a lawyer or a dentist or...

or write Canada's greatest novel.

And instead...

You asked for me, Inspector?

Margaret?

Did you ask him

- to come in here? - Oh, I can't.

I don't.

Get back to the recruits. I'll be over there shortly.

- Sir. - And shut the door!

Is this really what you wanted for him?

And what exactly is wrong with being a policeman?

He could do so much more with his life.

Is that right?

Well, if you hadn't noticed, you're married to a policeman.

You sleep with a policeman.

But this is John.

And he was made for better things.

I'll fix it.

Thank you.

Excuse me?

Is it true the medical school is accepting ladies this year?

It is. The school is going to be coeducational

for the first time, and we're seeking female applicants.

We could meet doctors!

Dr. Gowland of Cambridge University

has done remarkable research with animals in his laboratory.

So with growing confidence, the medical community

is convinced that human health

is tied with nutritional factors in our foods.

So these amines are the foundation for human vitality.

So I like to call them vitalamines.

You both know I'm not one

to stand in the way of progress, but I have to say,

this whole transplant business makes me very uncomfortable.

Why is that, George?

Sir, what if Dr. Lennox had succeeded?

I mean, where does this stop?

What's to keep anybody who has anything wrong with them

from simply getting rid of the broken bit

and swapping it out with a new part?

Would that be so bad?

Well, first off, where are we finding all these kidneys

and spleens and elbows?

From the dead, George.

Accident victims, people in comas with no hope of recovery.

And in the case of the kidneys, we each have two,

and we can survive with only one.

Yes, but where does it end?

- Where does what end? - The madness, sir.

Say I give you a kidney. And I would without question.

But then you say, "Oh, George, you have lovely penmanship.

I wish I had your hands."

And I say, "Sir, I've always admired your strong chin

and square jawline.

Perhaps we should trade." What's to keep us from doing so?

And then I say, "Because you have my kidney,

perhaps you should throw in one of your calves,

finely shaped from avid cycling.

I mean, my point is, once we've swapped legs and arms and necks,

surely, at some point, I cease to be me and become you.

George, I highly doubt either of us would survive all that.

Especially given our current success rate.

And there are a great many variables to master.

As you'll see when we begin.

- Shall we begin? - Doctor.

Mrs. Sheen's abdominal aorta is intact,

and all of the incisions were perfectly made.

So I have to admit Dr. Lennox is a fine surgeon.

He did nothing wrong, then?

Not to the body.

But it appears he didn't properly examine the blood.

Why would he examine her blood?

In advance of any major surgery, one must ensure that the blood

is fit enough to withstand a bodily trauma,

and I believe he missed something.

So there was no sabotage. He was negligent.

Well, it's clear that she died from excessive blood loss.

So I used a hemocytometer to analyze her cells

and discovered that her blood plaque

was far below normal levels.

And blood plaque is a chief factor in blood clotting.

She wasn't a hemophiliac.

But any responsible surgeon

would have refused to put her under the knife.

Hemophiliac?

Impossible.

Not hemophilia, but with blood nearly as weak.

Impossible. Impossible.

I examined Mrs. Sheen's blood myself this past Tuesday.

Every result was as expected.

Perhaps you saw the results that enabled you

to proceed with the operation.

Why would I need to?

Do you have any idea how many people in this world

are nearing death from a failing of the kidneys?

Hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions.

I'm afraid I can't simply take your word for it, Dr. Lennox.

I still have the vial.

- Of Mrs. Sheen's blood? - Indeed.

In my refrigerated chest.

It's labelled "Sheen," possibly with an initial.

I'll wait right here if you like.

I will be proved correct.

He's right.

The plaque is normal.

So the patient's blood was healthy

only days before the operation.

Unless Dr. Lennox is lying to us

and this isn't actually her blood.

So he could get away

with Killing her on a public stage?

That makes no sense.

There's no other explanation for the discrepancy.

Unless he's correct

and someone did, indeed, sabotage his operation.

By sabotaging the patient herself.

All we know is the patient had normal blood plaque one day,

but not the next.

Usually this kind of problem is caused by hereditary factors

or problems with the thyroid.

It would seem someone did this intentionally.

We simply don't know how.

Where's bloody Watts?

He asked for a couple of days off, sir.

Thinks he can wander in and out of this station house

and do as he pleases.

Sir, our case?

Oh, yes. Right.

So, the question is, who wanted to see her dead?

Or who wanted to discredit the surgeon?

That's mad.

There was a man in the crowd who called him a butcher,

but we have no leads on identifying him.

I'm willing to bet that someone wanted

this woman out of the picture.

Start with the husband.

Oi, lads. Listen up.

This is John Brackenreid.

Now, you are to treat him as you would any other new recruit.

Any other new recruit who could have you sacked

at the drop of a hat.

Right, then, John. You're with me.

I'll show you the Wilton beat.

Oi, Brackenreid. Where do you think you're going?

Constable Crabtree's gonna show me his beat.

No, he's not.

I've got work for you to do around here.

Yes, sir.

- See that bunch of drunks? - Yes.

Round them up, throw them in the cells.

Yes, sir.

Inspector.

You remember the last time we had that lot in the cells?

Oh, I remember just fine.

- Hey. - Don't you worry, Crabtree.

It won't be you that's on cleanup duty this time.

The inspector

wants you in the cells, and there's no use fighting.

Mr. Sheen.

Detective William Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

Yes. How can I help you?

Taking a trip somewhere?

Oh, just a little holiday.

Take my mind off things.

Just a moment, dear.

I know this looks like I am the lowest of swine.

Oh, perhaps not.

Perhaps she's your daughter.

You must understand.

My wife was near death for years.

I'm sorry to say this, Mr. Sheen,

but we believe your wife was murdered.

What? How?

- By that doctor? - We don't know.

But we suspect foul play was involved.

Oh, say, I know how this looks,

but I didn't do a thing to poor Regina.

Did anyone wish your wife harm recently?

Well, there were some men who came to see us.

They left poor Regina quite distraught.

- Who were they? - Oh.

It was those people from the church.

The ones that protested at the operation.

Oh, what do they call themselves?

The Christian Scientists.

Therefore, metaphysics resolves things into thoughts

and exchanges the objects of sense for ideas of soul.

The testimony of the material senses

is neither absolute nor divine.

Human philosophy has made God manlike.

Christian Science makes man godlike.

In closing, I will recite a benediction

from the "Pulpit and Press."

"Divine presence, breathe thou thy blessing

on every heart in this house."

- Amen. - Amen.

Amen.

Thank you.

- So well done. - Thank you.

- Pardon me. - Oh, I'm glad.

Detective William Murdoch, Constable George Crabtree

- of the Toronto Constabulary. - Oh.

Did you enjoy what you heard of my sermon?

I can't say I followed much of it.

Many of the congregants here in Canada

need a little extra help with their science.

And you are?

Mary Baker Eddy, of course.

I'm so glad that you're interested in our church.

Mr. Gable, would you find some literature

- for these young men, please? - Mm-hmm. Certainly.

We're not here to discuss your teachings per se.

- Well... - MURDOCH:

No.

We were told that some of the members of your church

visited Mrs. Sheen prior to her transplant operation.

Well, such an operation defies our belief

that a medical procedure of any kind

is an assault upon the body.

Who exactly visited her?

Myself and a couple of others... Danvers and Lamotte.

Yes, but no member of our congregation

would ever wish harm upon another soul.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm very tired.

Good day, gentlemen.

Uh, Mr. Gable, we'll need a word.

Are the men that you mentioned here today?

Yes, but as I was trying to say, we never spoke to Mrs. Sheen,

only her husband.

Well, he said she was quite distraught.

Well, she was, but it wasn't us who upset her.

Her husband excoriated us and sent us away

before we had a chance to explain that the man

speaking to his wife was not one of our number.

There was someone already there

- when you arrived? - Yeah.

Can you describe him?

Dark hair, middle-aged.

A serious man, scowling, severe.

I saw him again at the surgery.

He was the one who called Dr. Lennox a butcher.

Vitality and health in a bottle.

All the necessary amines from your food

distilled into a single pill. Thank you.

I see you know what you're talking about.

Of course.

I only mean most people selling remedies

don't know a thing about modern medicine.

Are you a doctor?

I'm at a medical exposition, aren't I?

That doesn't answer the question.

How do you know so much about amines?

I can read.

You know, you can learn a lot that way.

So you're self-taught.

That's impressive.

It's served me well enough.

Would you like to try a vitalamine?

I think you might find it quite rejuvenating.

Where did you get this?

There's a blood booth around the corner.

You just have to be able to read the signs.

Blood coagulation is my speciality.

That's my brand-new pamphlet on the very topic.

I wonder if you know of any substance foreign to the body

that inhibits coagulation?

Certainly.

There are a few, though it's a rather new topic.

In particular, I'm curious about what might affect blood plaque.

I can think of only one thing.

Acetylsalicylic acid.

Better known as aspirin.

Aspirin?

- The pain-relief pills? - Indeed.

I only recently discovered the side effect

while testing some of my own blood

in the wake of a nasty ache in the head.

- How well known is this? - Not very.

You won't find it in the pamphlet.

But anyone who's visited my booth could know.

I have been crowing about it all week.

Dr. Lennox's heckler may be

of more interest in this case than we first thought.

- But you don't have his name. - No.

George is having a sketch made up from his description.

What is it you think he did?

He went 'round to this woman's house

the day before her operation...

and somehow made her blood not work?

I may have an answer.

- Aspirin. - Aspirin?

The pills?

A little-known side effect inhibits blood plaque.

I tested the victim's blood and found it in high concentration.

Maybe she was in pain.

I re-examined the body and found an injection mark

on the back of the upper arm.

Only gas was used during the surgery.

So, someone stuck her with a needle.

I believe so. Between 12 and 24 hours before she died.

Precisely during the time frame that our mystery man

was seen with her.

Also, the side effect is a recent discovery.

The killer may well have learned of it at the exposition.

We need to know if this man visited your booth

earlier this week.

He certainly did. That's Dr. Ridgeway.

- He's a doctor? - A surgeon, in fact.

He works in transplants, though I believe

he's mostly experimented with animals.

And you spoke with him about aspirin?

At length. He took a keen interest in my findings.

Do you know where we might be able to find him?

I know he's in Toronto specifically

for this exposition.

I assume he's staying at one of the hotels.

Dr. Anton Ridgeway.

Thank you, Doctor.

Thank you.

Good people, may I have your attention?

I have excellent news.

After the most unfortunate outcome

of yesterday's surgery...

So barbarically sabotaged by outside forces...

My team and I are ready to make a second attempt.

- Oh, my. - This is Mr. Robert Heins.

Tomorrow, he will be the healthy, happy recipient

of the world's first human-to-human organ transplant.

There he is. That's Ridgeway.

- You're a madman! - Stop!

Drop it!

You are no doctor.

Go back to your goats.

Dr. Ridgeway, you are under arrest.

He has to be stopped. Don't you see?

He has to be stopped.

That's enough.

All right, all right. You've caught me red-handed.

There's no point in denying it.

But it's Lennox who should hang. He's the murderer.

He performed the surgery.

But Mrs. Sheen died because of you.

Me?

I had nothing to do with that.

We found evidence that the surgery was sabotaged.

She was poisoned, in effect, the day before the operation.

And you happened to have been with her that very evening.

I was trying to tell her not to go through with it.

Just a kindly conversation, was it?

I implored her to withdraw, and she became upset.

It was for her own good.

That monster was planning

to slaughter her in front of a crowd of spectators,

and he went ahead and did just that.

Or that monster was about to beat you at your own game.

- What are you saying? - You're a transplant surgeon.

This upstart came along to steal all your glory.

Medical science is not ready for a human organ transplant.

If we fail now on the public stage,

it will set the entire endeavor back years, even decades.

I had to stop him, even at cost to myself.

Is it merely a coincidence, then,

that you've recently taken an interest

in the effects of aspirin?

Aspirin? What of it?

You asked Dr. Kemp about its anticoagulant properties.

- Yes, but... - Then you used a needle

to give some to Mrs. Sheen.

Knowing full well what it would do to her.

I did no such thing.

I am a surgeon.

I keep myself abreast of the latest research

so I can avoid tragedies like this.

Lives are at stake. Lennox is the killer, not me.

See this? Everything that's here.

Hello.

You've returned.

I wanted to hear more about your ideas on fertilization.

The key is to isolate the female chromosomes from the male.

Yes, but let's imagine for a moment

that you didn't care about the sex of the child.

But that is all I care about.

Well, then let's take that aspect as a given.

Oh, the rest is simple.

One merely needs to encourage conception

at the time of insemination.

And how would that be accomplished?

There are several avenues.

Female fertility has been long been ignored

by male researchers.

We knew more a thousand years ago than we do today.

- Is that so? - Oh, yes.

My research on the matter.

May I read this?

All right.

Thank you.

So, what do you think?

He attempted to assault the doctor,

but we have no evidence that he went as far as murder.

He had motive.

He wanted to do it, he did it,

and now he's lying to spare himself the noose.

Yes, sir, but motive alone is not enough.

Particularly given how many people wanted

to see this transplant fail.

Including the husband.

Wasn't he already stepping out with some trollop?

Yes, but I believe him to be honest, even if he is callous.

Now, the most suspicious character in all of this

- is Dr. Lennox himself. - Right.

On to more pressing matters. Carry on, Murdoch.

Inspector. The cells are clean.

- What, all of them? - Yes, sir.

I want them as clean as a kitchen counter.

I'm prepared to eat my dinner directly off the floor, sir.

So, what now, Inspector? Should I head out on patrol?

No.

It's shining day, Brackenreid.

Shining day, sir?

Yes, Crabtree, bloody shining day.

You're shining the boots of every constable

in this station house.

Yes, sir.

Inspector.

Don't you think you're being a little hard on the boy?

I'm just putting a new constable through his paces, Crabtree.

I don't remember having to perform any of these duties

on my first week.

You'll be doing them this week and the week after

if you're not careful, sunshine.

Constable Crabtree.

The saboteur was stealing my organ.

The very organ that will save a man's life

in mere hours from now.

I apprehended him myself.

You tied him up? George.

Of course. I caught him dead to rights.

Was a gag really necessary?

Dear God, what has happened here?!

It appears there's been a citizen's arrest.

Who did this? Was it you?

You monster.

How have I suddenly been cast as the villain of this piece?

Your friend here already killed one of my patients,

and now he's tried to do it again.

- Sir. - He did no such thing.

Christian Scientists abide by the law,

even if we disagree with it.

And if not for that, you would have felt

my wrath by now, sir, I assure you.

The man tried to steal my kidney!

Enough.

George, take Dr. Lennox

and ensure that his property hasn't been damaged.

Sir. I will. But I found this in Mr. Gable's pocket.

Dr. Lennox.

Detective, please.

All I did prior to the surgery

was switch out the doctor's anesthetic.

I didn't kill anyone.

Mr. Gable, I'm not sure I can believe you.

What is this?

A pamphlet on blood coagulation.

It was in Mr. Gable's pocket.

It's true. It's mine.

Mr. Gable, the man who gave you this pamphlet

recently discovered a side effect of aspirin.

A side effect which enabled Mrs. Sheen to be murdered.

- You're a killer? - No.

That is not befitting for a Scientist.

No.

I don't know anything about the murder.

Why would you, a Christian Scientist,

be researching medical discoveries

that fly in the face of your beliefs?

Yes, why would you, Mr. Gable?

Because I'm a fraud.

A fraud?

You can't understand.

The pain is unbearable.

I've prayed to no end.

It hurts so terribly, I can barely function.

I had to see a doctor. I had to.

What is your ailment?

A strangulated hernia.

It requires surgery.

I've been learning all I can about every aspect.

I'm terrified.

I will pray for you, Mr. Gable.

Thank you, Mrs. Eddy.

But I'm no longer sure it will do any good.

You could help people more with some training, you know.

How do you mean?

You could do your own research, create even better supplements.

Now, why would I do that when people buy these ones?

You don't want to help people?

Do these pills actually do anything?

Or are you just parroting jargon you've stolen from real doctors?

And what if I am?

They still make people feel better.

No. Real medicine actually makes people better.

I'm just trying to make a living.

And I'm making a fine one.

Thank you for your advice all the same.

Julia. I thought you'd be at the surgery.

I'm curious about the result,

but I'd rather not witness another death.

Did you arrest your suspect?

Mr. Gable's doctor confirmed his story

about his upcoming operation.

He was against the transplant,

but we've no evidence that he's our killer.

Why risk jail to stop the operation?

He felt he was failing his religion.

He wanted to atone.

Detective.

You might find this interesting.

"The Mad Butcher of Milan." What is this?

It's a news article from the Continent.

I've only just received it.

It's about a failed surgeon?

Not a failed surgeon. A veritable killer.

The man killed three women on the operating table

in the span of only a few months.

Surgeons lose patients all the time.

Do they? Through experimental surgery?

Dr. Ridgeway, I fail to see the relevance here.

This is about a Dr. Julius Henthorne.

Oh, indeed.

Apparently his reputation

followed him across the Atlantic.

Dr. Henthorne legally changed his name only last month.

He now goes by Bertram Lennox.

The surgery is about to start.

Clamp.

Oh, there it is. Ew.

Oh, my. That is disgusting.

Please. That is my husband.

I-I didn't mean "disgusting" in a bad way. I...

I'm sure he'll be fine.

- George. - Sir.

He's removed the kidney already.

Then there's nothing we can do.

Perhaps you could step in?

Not at this stage.

Dr. Lennox is the only one with any hope of helping him now.

What if he kills him?

We can only hope that he doesn't.

Ladies and gentlemen.

The surgery is complete.

And the patient is alive.

Bravo!

Well done, Doctor!

Detective, I'm so pleased you could join me

for this momentous accomplishment.

I'm glad the patient survived, Dr. Lennox.

Or do you prefer Henthorne?

I just completed the first human-to-human organ transplant.

Which name do you think will sound best in the history books?

You killed three people in Milan last year.

And?

And one also died under your knife here in Toronto.

The business of saving lives comes at a cost.

If that cost is a single life, fine.

Four single lives.

- So far. - Four lives?

You accuse me of losing four lives?

Four lives is nothing.

Anyone with a conscience would disagree.

It is those who stand in my way who are without conscience.

I carry the weight of those four lives, and I do it gladly.

I do it for the world, for the future.

For humanity.

I will save millions.

And in doing so, I will not merely prolong life,

but through the procreation of those I save,

I will create life.

If I'm a murderer, then so, too, is God a murderer.

John?

Surely your shift ended hours ago.

I'm just finishing this last pair.

I'm getting faster, though.

I can get a true mirror shine in less than 90 minutes.

Shall I do yours next?

You don't need to polish my boots.

The inspector said every pair in the station house.

John, it's true that your father is hard on everybody.

But, I mean, this...

this goes beyond.

He's being hard on me because I'm his son.

Doesn't matter to me, though. I'll show him I can take it.

You're a young man. I mean, you could do anything.

Why are you so intent on becoming a policeman?

Well, it's the most honorable job I know.

Constable Brackenreid. How's it going with those boots?

I've shined nearly every pair in the station house, sir.

- Fine. - Will I be on patrol tomorrow?

We'll see. You can finish the boots tomorrow morning.

Uh, you can take the streetcar home.

Thank you, sir.

Listen, a few of the lads and I are going to go out for a drink.

- Why don't you come with us? - Really?

- Yes, sir, I'd like to. - Excellent.

And you don't call me "sir." We're both constables.

More importantly, answer me this...

If I took the brain of a cat and put it into a dog,

would I have a cat or a dog?

A dog.

See, that's what these two said.

But you're not considering.

If the soul resides in the mind,

and the mind is the brain...

then surely, in essence, you're still a cat.

Behaviorally, what are you doing?

Do you think him a megalomaniac?

It's likely.

Then he could be a psychopathic personality.

Most doctors are megalomaniacs, particularly surgeons.

It's seen by young men to be a career filled with glory.

There's no glory in failed transplants.

And a maniacal killer wouldn't kill the first victim

and save the second.

It makes no sense.

He was awfully lucky.

Lennox?

No. The second patient.

- How so? - Think of it.

All of the millions of people who have died of kidney failure

throughout history.

What are the chances he comes along at the precise moment

to be the first person ever to get a new one?

That is lucky.

And doubly so, given that he was never intended to receive

the transplant in the first place.

He would have died if it wasn't for a murder.

Perhaps he made his own luck.

Really, Detective, he can't be speaking to anyone right now.

His condition is that dire?

The surgery was a success. That is a doubtless fact.

But his body will need time to heal.

How confident are you that he will?

I don't know.

So it's possible he may not recover.

The kidney is not yet functioning.

If it doesn't, it is unlikely his condition will improve.

If he passes before I can speak with him,

I may never learn the truth about Mrs. Sheen's murder.

No. No, he couldn't have done it.

Why do you say that?

I know what you're insinuating.

But that poor man has been ill for months.

How exactly do you suppose he murdered someone?

Mrs. Sheen died from an injection

that was administered the day before the surgery.

It takes no strength at all to use a syringe.

The day before the surgery, you say?

Well, there you have it.

I was with my husband all day and all evening.

It's impossible.

I'm not so sure.

But how could he have done it if he never left his bed?

It's quite clear.

Mrs. Heins, I appreciate your testimony.

But I'm going to speak with your husband.

Mr. Heins.

I'm Detective William Murdoch.

I'm sorry to bother you.

But I have some questions.

It's about the death of Regina Sheen.

Killed her.

Yes.

You gave her an injection. Is that correct?

I-I wished...

I wished her dead...

so many times.

I wished that she would die so I could live.

Yes, but did you kill her yourself?

By your own hand?

Mr. Heins, did you visit Mrs. Sheen

the day before the surgery?

Or were you home all day with your wife?

Yes.

I was with Jeannette.

So you didn't visit Mrs. Sheen?

The two of you were together all day?

Yes.

No.

I didn't go out.

But Jeannette...

Your wife?

Your wife left the house that day?

She does everything for me.

Please. Don't say any more.

I didn't do anything but pray.

Of course not.

You didn't do anything wrong, my dear.

I love you.

You know that.

I would do anything for you.

Anything at all.

Please...

Robert, don't leave me.

All right, Detective.

You can take me away now.

What if I did want to help people?

I beg your pardon?

Well, like you said I should.

If I wanted to help people, what do you propose?

Well, you are aware

the University of Toronto Medical School

is now accepting female applicants.

So? Even if they wanted me, I couldn't afford it.

If you're accepted, I could arrange a scholarship

to pay for your tuition.

But that would only be

for someone who really wanted to help.

Do I look like someone who would fit in there?

Does that matter to you?

Probably not.

But I can't afford to just go to school all day.

Well, then you could work for me.

Work for you?

If you're accepted into medical college,

I'll see to it that you have what you need to get by.

And why would you do that for me?

I'm not doing it for you. I need an assistant.

It's hard work, it's long hours,

and it involves a lot of dead bodies.

But if you really want to help people,

I'm offering you a chance.

You're a real doctor?

Dr. Julia Ogden.

City coroner.

Violet Hart.

But I must warn you...

I have no intention of being your assistant forever.

Well...

I would expect no less.

I'm sorry your transplant was a failure.

A failure? Not in the slightest.

One of your patients was murdered,

and the other one died.

Yes, I failed to save a life this week.

But an unsuccessful attempt is not a failure

if that failure is followed by success.

This, friends, was progress.

Good day.

He is right. Progress requires risk.

Someone has to be brave enough to take it on.

Hardly heroic when the risk is only to others.

Could you wait a moment?

I think we should work together.

On what?

On your proposals regarding hormones and reproduction.

Why would we do that?

It will take you a step toward your goals.

Prove part of your concepts.

But why do I need you?

A few months ago, I was in Chicago visiting a doctor

renowned for his work in fertility.

- His. - He couldn't help me.

But he thinks that I should be able to conceive.

You seem to be talking around the point.

The point is, I want to see

if your ideas can truly cure infertility in women.

I'll provide the necessary funding.

Where would we find a test subject willing

to undertake experimental hormone replacements?

You misunderstand me.

The subject would be me.