All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S01E12 - The Rebel and the Prince (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

Toronto is one of the safest
cities in North America.

Let us hope so, Inspector.

After all, we are talking about

His Royal Highness
Prince Alfred.

Queen Victoria is very, very
protective over her grandson.

I've assigned
two very experienced officers

to make sure that the prince's
visit goes as planned.

There are
some lingering concerns.

Lingering concerns?

The War Office
has received information

that the Irish
may be plotting something

against a member
of the royal family.

This is Canada, sir.

There's no need to worry
about such things.

Still, there have been
Irish aggressions

in Canada before, sir.

The Fenian raids
were 30 years ago.

If there was any activity
in Toronto,

I would definitely
be aware of it.

Well, let us hope so, Inspector.

The last thing we need
is an incident.

David Jennings.
Aide to His Royal Highness.

Oh, gosh.
It's a pleasure, sir.

Detective William Murdoch,

and this is
Constable George Crabtree.

At your service.

They will be keeping a keen eye
on the prince.

Excellent.

The prince can be something
of a...

Pleasure-seeker.

Yes.
One way of putting it.

His reputation precedes him,
sir.

But no need to worry.
He'll be in good hands.

Quite right.

Detective Murdoch goes out
of his way to avoid pleasure.

Ah, excellent.

Then we look forward to enjoying

your, as they say,
Toronto the Good.

How could you do this to me?

Ah, good evening, gentlemen.

Please come.
Come.

Detective Murdoch,
Constable Crabtree,

may I present
His Royal Highness Prince Alfred

of Edinburgh,
Saxe-Coburg and Gotha.

Gosh, it's just a pleasure, sir.

It's a pleasure to be
at your service, Your Highness.

Tomorrow, gentlemen,

his Highness has a breakfast
with the mayor,

a primary-school
choir presentation,

and then an evening performance
at Massey Hall.

Sir?

Would Your Highness care to
continue this at a later stage?

Pardon my rudeness,

but important matters
demand my attention.

Perhaps we can finish this
later, gentlemen.

Yes, perhaps.

Of course, of course,

we'll assume our posts
in the corridor.

Well, I must say the prince made
a much better first impression

than I assumed he would.

Go on, George.
Read it.

"There was a prince
who liked to succumb,

to vulgar young girls
with big bums.

But he knew he was trapped
and would have to adapt,

so he begs you instead
for some rum. "

A poet.
Excellent.

Sir.

A body's been found.

I'm right behind you.
George, guard the prince.

Sir.

Did you like my poem?

Oh, yes, Your Majesty.
It was very creative.

Jennings, that old cat,
has gone to bed,

and now the mice can play.

Would you acquire something
for me?

Absolutely.
What can I get you?

Girls.

This is how she was found?

It's eerie, sir.

She looks as though
she's sleeping.

- What's that, sir?
- A Claddagh ring.

The hands symbolize friendship,
the heart is love,

and the crown is loyalty.

I don't see a crown, sir.

It's sometimes removed
as a symbolic gesture,

a sign of defiance
toward the British.

By who?

The Irish Republican
Brotherhood.

The Brotherhood.

Sir, the prince.

Yes.

The prince may indeed be
in grave danger.

Sir!

Sir!

Sir.

I found this in the bushes
about 50 yards that way.

It's most likely the victim's.

Excellent, but you
shouldn't be touching it.

How else would I pick it up?

Constable,
evidence should not be touched

until fingermarks
have been raised.

Oh, well, I'm not really up
on those, sir.

Later I'll show you
how it's done.

I don't think
I have the mind for it, sir.

Nonsense.
Anyone can learn.

Thank you, sir.

Miss Margaret Gilpatrick.
A fine Irish name.

Let's find her next of kin,
Constable.

Um, sir,
I've certainly done my share

of filling the cells
with drunkards and pickpockets,

but I've never assisted
a detective before.

And?

How would one go about locating
a victim's family?

You'll want to search
the public records

and find her next of kin.

Then bring them to me.

Public records.
Brilliant, sir.

Thank you.

Higgins, keep an eye
on the gentlemen of the press.

- And not a word.
- Sir.

Right, then,
what about this ring?

Well, sir, a dead Irish girl
wearing a Brotherhood ring

on the very night

that Mr. Jennings warned
about a possible Irish threat.

Hardly a coincidence,
I should think.

Let's not sound the alarms yet,
Murdoch.

I simply think that it...

We don't want the prince
to think

that Toronto's not a safe place.

Let's keep our eyes open
and close this case quickly.

It would be a tremendous help

if I could have
Constable Crabtree's assistance.

For some reason, the prince
has took a shine to Crabtree,

so you'll have to make do
with Higg... Bollocks!

Higgins, you daft bastard!
I said, "Don't say a word!"

Excuse my language, Doctor.

Oi!
You lot, away!

Dr. Ogden,
have you found anything?

This scratch on her neck.

It's as if something
was torn from her.

- A necklace, perhaps?
- But why?

The murderer didn't take
her ring,

which seems to rule out robbery.

Perhaps the necklace held
a special significance.

There's blood and skin under the
fingernails of her right hand.

- She fought her attacker.
- Yes.

Good girl.

Your Highness, please!

Shh!

You'll wake Jennings
with all that pounding.

Your Highness, I'm sorry
I have to be so strict,

but we have had
several complaints

about the noise
and the thumping.

And while I'm sure
no one will ask you to leave,

there is a possibility

I'll catch some of the trouble
for this.

Oh, I will make this up to you.
I promise.

Thank you.
If you could just...

Girls!
Over here.

Oh, Your Highness, please.
No more girls.

Not for me.
For you.

A token
of my royal appreciation.

Make nice.

Sir, so we'll agree to...

Hello.

- Hello, there.
- Hi.

I can understand the confusion.

It looks just like her.

Is this not your daughter,
Mr. Gilpatrick?

My Maggie May was a lovely girl.

She'll be back.

We found a handbag
near the scene of the crime.

In it was a number
of calling cards.

Your daughter's name
was on them.

Was it, now?

But we found this
on her shoulder.

Do you recognize it?

That's not the tattoo she had.

Your daughter had
a different tattoo?

She marked her skin.

That's how I know
she was not herself.

How do you mean?

Maggie turned wild.

On account of living
with that Ann girl.

She's a bad seed, that one.

He's a crazy old coot,
her father.

Came over here one night yelling

that she wasn't
his daughter anymore.

Do you think
he could have hurt her?

I suppose anything is possible,

but, deep down, I think
he loved her something fierce.

He said something about
Maggie was different.

Why would he say that?

Maggie used to be quite merry,
but lately she'd grown sullen.

I thought she might be
in trouble.

Constable, could you please
pass me that photograph?

This cross on Maggie's necklace,
what can you tell me about it?

A gift from her mother.

She's dead now.

Mags never took it off.

You said you thought
she might be in trouble.

What did you mean?

Perhaps in the family way?

No.

Mags had a sweetheart.

John Tucker.

But they'd been fighting lately.

A lot.

And where might we
be able to find him?

They used to go to Bible study
together.

At least,
that's what she told her father.

And what church
was that held at?

Church? Ha.

Yes, well,
I suppose to some it is.

Excuse me, sir.
I'd like a word, please.

Bartender, Toronto police.

I'd like to speak with you,
please.

Sir.

You can answer in here,
or you can answer outside!

It's your choice.

- Something to say?
- Be still!

Not in my bar.

Will.

Eddie?

Why would you expect them
to talk?

We're just doing our jobs.

Last time the coppers came by
for a chat,

Paddy O'Neil got a gash
in the back of the head

that put him out for a week.

Well, if that happens again,
you tell me. I'll make it right.

Yeah.

It's been a long time, Will.

It sure has.

What? They make you a detective
now, is that right?

Yeah.
Beats logging.

I tried to write you at the
seminary after Jesuit school.

Well, the priesthood
didn't work out.

I met a girl.

Oh, you're married.
Congratulations.

Well, that didn't really
work out, either.

But the bar
seems to keep me going.

You still doing a bit of boxing?

No. I see enough of that
in the streets.

Yeah, either that or Father
O'Brien beat it out of you.

Did a week ever go by

we didn't see
the inside of his office?

No.

Eddie,
I'm investigating a murder.

A young woman named Maggie
Gilpatrick was found dead.

I'm looking for a gentleman
friend of hers, a John Tucker.

Yeah.

I knew Maggie.
A shame about that.

John Tucker?

No, name doesn't ring a bell.

What, did he have something
to do with the death?

I just want to talk to him.

If I hear anything,
I'll let you know.

Would you, uh, fancy a pint?

No, I'm still on duty.
Perhaps another time.

Oh, yeah.

The body's still
the Lord's temple, eh, Will?

See ya.

I have a good mind to report
this to your inspector

and have you removed
from this position.

Mr. Jennings,
with all due respect,

I did manage to eventually end
the party.

After His Royal Highness's
undergarments ended up

in a tree on King Street.

Oh, I meant to get those.

I will remind you, Constable,
your duty here

also includes keeping the prince
from doing harm.

To himself
and, more importantly,

to the reputation of the Crown.

Do not let it happen again.

Yes, sir.

We're getting out.
Let's go.

No.
No, no, no, no, no.

- The schedule says...
- We've a spot of time.

Now, come on.
Let's have some fun.

Your Highness,
please come back now!

You're with me, or you're not.

Either way,
I'm leaving this hotel.

Your Highness.

I forbid it!

Oh, you do, do you?

Well, suit yourself, Constable.

You know I could have you
beheaded for this.

Right now, that would only be
too merciful, sir.

Lunch has been scheduled
at the harbor, sir.

Does this suit Your Highness?

That'll be fine.

What?

You couldn't get a word
out of anybody?

No, sir.

You know the choffing bartender,
for God's sake.

But I haven't spoken to him
in over 20 years.

I can't just walk in
and demand information.

Yeah, not with him being a mick.

The Irish
have always been stroppy.

You can hardly blame them.

Oh, my God.

What's that I can hear?
Violins?

We're not in Ireland, Murdoch.

Look outside.
Smell the maple leaves.

This is Canada.

Yes, well, at any rate,

the "micks" aren't going to
talk to us now, so...

Then find some other way
to get to the bottom of things.

Higgins, were you able to raise
any fingermarks

off of the handbag?

Uh, loads of them, sir.

Just, all mine.

Right.

I have another job for you.

I need you
to help me find someone.

Detective Murdoch, I understand
you've been looking for me.

I'm John Tucker.

Never mind.
I found him.

Mr. Tucker,
when did you last see Maggie?

A couple of days ago.

I loved her more than anything.

Yet you fought with her.

Who told you that?
Ann?

We fought because she was
stubborn and opinionated.

And she wouldn't listen to me.

And just how heated
did these arguments get?

You think I had something to do
with Maggie's death.

Well, I didn't.

The fights,
what were they about?

- Her father.
- What about him?

His mind.
He's gone a bit loony, sir.

How so?

He's got it into his head
that Maggie was a changeling.

So, if you're looking for a
killer, sir, I'd start with him.

The fairies.

They stole my girl,
and in her place they left it.

A changeling.

Yes.

I asked it,
"Be you a changeling? "

"No, no," it cried.

But I knew.

How did you know?

It had to say what it was.

It had to say it was
a changeling, but it wouldn't.

- So you had to kill it?
- No.

I had to be sly
to match its wits.

An elixir of herbs and milk

should make it say
it was a changeling.

It drank it, ran hell-bound,

and then I sees it
on your table.

If the changeling is dead,
Mr. Gilpatrick, where is Maggie?

She'll soon be released.

- Released from...
- From the fairies.

They'll be
bringing her home soon.

I must go and meet her.

Mr. Gilpatrick.

I think you'll need to stay
with us a little while longer.

If Mr. Gilpatrick
was telling the truth,

we should find traces of
milk and herbs in her stomach.

And there it is.

Basil, I'd say by the odor.

So, Mr. Gilpatrick
did give her the herbs.

But if he wanted
his daughter back,

he needed the changeling alive.

Killing her makes no sense.

That's not the only odd thing,
William.

What role did
a piece of paper play

in the exorcising
of a changeling?

More to the point, what role
did it play in her murder?

So, Maggie Gilpatrick
is in the park.

Someone is stalking her.

They catch her and force the
piece of paper down her throat.

Perhaps as a punishment
of some sort?

Or she ate it to keep
anyone else from having it.

It's blank.

Except for these small holes.

Yes, they're not punctures
or tears.

They've been carefully cut out.

For what purpose?

A very practical
and surreptitious one.

The key to a code?

Not a code, sir.
A cipher.

- The difference is...
- Don't start splitting hairs.

Have you not heard
of the ciphers

of Verne's
Count Mathias Sandorf?

Murdoch, just explain it to me.

When a cipher's key is laid

over a specific page of text
from a book,

letters are isolated.

Those letters form words,
revealing a message.

- Which book?
- That's the question.

Lot of good that does us, then.

Why was the paper
in the girl's stomach?

To keep it from falling
into the wrong hands?

Brave girl.

Sir?

Dr. Ogden wants you back.

When Mr. Gilpatrick said Maggie
had another marking on her arm,

I began to wonder
whether the sun tattoo

was actually hiding
another tattoo.

You've found a way
to remove the sun.

Yes, I believe I have.

- You're going to burn it off.
- Precisely.

Cover your mouth.
Try not to inhale the fumes.

Let's see
whether this has worked.

Amazing.

There is another tattoo.
Can you uncover it any further?

It's a phoenix rising.

William,
you realize what this means?

All too well.

Symbol of the Brotherhood.

And this was found
on the dead girl, yes?

Yes.
Between this and the ring,

it strongly suggests
that something is afoot.

What that might be is not known.

We've talked with our informers,
and we've come up with nothing.

In fact,
we can't even be certain

that the Brotherhood is active
in Toronto at the moment.

Gentlemen, I suggest we increase
security on His Highness.

We won't stray
from his schedule,

but we will certainly shorten
his public appearances.

Perhaps this matter
would be best discussed

with His Royal Highness.

Oh, no need, Inspector.

The British have never,
nor will they ever,

run in the face
of Irish hooliganism.

I trust you will get to the
bottom of matters eventually.

Good day.

Arrogant little prick.

No wonder half the world
hates the bloody monarchy.

What?
Well, they do.

Uh, no, I was just wondering

why Maggie Gilpatrick
would cover her tattoo.

To keep that crazy father
of hers

from beating the bejesus
out of her.

Very good, sir.

Clearly, the tattoo proves that
she was part of the Brotherhood.

Yet she covered it up.
Had she left the group?

Well, if she had,
they wouldn't take it lightly.

Apparently, Maggie had been
attending Bible study

with John Tucker.

I wonder if these were, in fact,
Brotherhood gatherings.

And this John Tucker.

He just walks right in
and volunteers information.

Now, why would he do that?

Yes.
Why, indeed?

Very nice.
Try it on.

No.

Why not?

No, no, no, no, no.

It's not really me, sir.

I insist.

All right.

Very good.

The boys would have a good laugh
to see me in such finery.

Nonsense.
They would respect you.

That coat is an emblem of power,
and people respect power.

There you go.

That looks much better.

So, you go through this
every day, Your Highness?

The primping
has merely just begun.

Eddie, after we spoke,
John Tucker somehow found me.

That's a stroke of luck, then,
isn't it?

I think it was specifically

to blame Maggie's death
on her father

and to throw me off the trail.

And what trail might that be,
Will?

I think John Tucker and Maggie

were involved
with the Brotherhood.

The Brotherhood.

Ghosts long dead, Will.

- She had the tattoo.
- And why not?

We all have relatives
over there.

People who spilled blood,
fought starvation,

died for their religion.

Eddie,
are the Brotherhood meeting?

I wouldn't know, Will.

If they are,
I can't say I could blame them.

Why do you say that?

Do you remember I told you
I met a girl?

You told me it didn't work out.

Her name was Abigail.

She was a beautiful girl.

She came over from Ireland to
make a new start with her aunt.

We had a child, little Katie.

Abby wanted her family
to see her, back home.

So it took me a good part
of a year to save enough money

to send them back home
to Ireland.

- Are they there now?
- Yeah.

Buried at Coolcross Hill.

They were in church
when it happened.

Brigade stormed in,
set fire to the whole building.

Burnt them to a crisp.

They said that the priest
was sheltering the Brotherhood.

I'm sorry.
I had no idea.

So, how would you know?
You're not a mind reader.

You're a copper.

Sworn to uphold
Her Majesty's rules.

I uphold the law, Eddie.

Ah, well, there's a fine line

between upholding the law
and being a lackey, Will.

Sir?

If I see this John Tucker
fellow,

I'll let him know
that you're looking for him.

Have you found Tucker?

Uh, not exactly, sir.

He was in here,
going through my things.

And you're sure
it was John Tucker?

I saw a dark figure
and cried out.

Mrs. Meyboom from downstairs
heard and called up.

He went straight into the hall,

and I saw his face
clear as day.

But you're all right, miss?

But for a bump on my knee.

Well, you should sit, miss.
Please.

Miss Ryan, do you have any idea

what he might have been
looking for?

No.

No idea at all.

When a cipher's key is laid

over a specific page of text
from a book,

letters are isolated.

Which book?

Could it have been a book,
by chance?

I would never have thought
of it.

It's sacrilegious, I said.

She told me it was tainted

and wanted to burn it
when the weather turned.

But maybe she was hiding it.

It opens to the same place, sir.

Yes.
The spine's broken.

Well, that's interesting.

Something's been written here
and erased.

Yet the indentation
of the pencil remains.

"Sic Semper Tyrannus. "

"Thus Always to Tyrants. "

Those were the words shouted out
by John Wilkes Booth

right after he assassinated
President Lincoln.

This could mean that the Irish

are planning to assassinate
the prince.

Maybe.

At any rate,
I believe this is the page

that holds the key
to their plans,

if I can only decode it in time.

Though we believe
we've matched the key

to the correct Bible page,

we've yet to decipher
the message.

And you think these letters
spell out a plan of some sort?

Most likely.

From the Latin phrase,

you can see why we believe
the prince's life

to be in grave danger.

And you've identified
a potential culprit?

Yes, a man named John Tucker.
Recently arrived from Ireland.

However,
no one knows anything about him.

And where is he now?

We are uncertain.

Uncertain.

Mr. Jennings, there's a train
leaving for Montreal

tomorrow afternoon.

From there, you can take
a steamship bound for England.

These are very serious
developments.

I'll take your advice
and present it to His Highness.

Good.

We've already sent a constable
to fetch him.

- Under whose authority?
- Mine.

I believe it to be
in his best interest.

And in the meantime completely
ignoring proper protocol.

I'll be reporting this
to your superior, Inspector.

Yes, sir.
Understood.

Eddie, where is John Tucker?

Surely, you know something.

Talk to me
while I can still help you.

They're planning
an assassination.

Did you know that?

I want to believe
that you're not party to this,

but you're making it
very difficult.

Because we are talking
about murder.

# Attend you gallant Irishmen #

# And listen for a while #

# I'll sing to you the praises
of the sons of Erin's Isle #

Cold-blooded murder.

# It's of those gallant heroes
who voluntarily ran #

# To release two Irish Fenians
from an English prison van #

Put him in a cell.

Yes, sir.

# William Deasy was a man
of good and noted fame #

# Likewise, Michael Larkin,
we'll never forget his name #

D, U, R, H, A, B, T.

Oh, this makes no sense at all.
Bloody Irishmen.

Irish.

- Ogam.
- What?

Ogam.
The ancient Irish alphabet.

Oh, of course.

Ancient Irish.
How bloody obvious.

No, no, no.

Words were written
in groups of five letters

above and below a line.

So let's divide them
into groups of five.

Durham.

Mary.

Bellevue.

Trinity.

As in the Holy Trinity?

No.

Locations.

Durham Road.
Mary Street.

- Bellevue Park.
- Trinity College.

What do you think they are?
Traps or ambushes?

Maybe they're stops
along the prince's itinerary.

I'll check his schedule.

Send men to each
of these locations.

We'd better hurry.

The only thing
this doesn't say is when.

Gentlemen.

I'd like to introduce
my senior security officer.

Mr. George Crabtree.

What sort of pathetic lot
is this that stands before me?

Crabtree, what the bloody hell
are you wearing,

and what kind of
bollock-brain idea is this?

Excuse my language,
Your Highness.

It's a brilliant one, sir.

He looks like
some poncy schoolboy.

Yes, I know.

But it's the perfect
undercover security disguise.

Constable Crabtree's plan
from the beginning, eh?

- Really?
- Uh, yes, definitely.

Then you can remain in disguise
for the rest of this assignment.

Right, Constable?

Actually, sir, there's
a lot of pinning involved.

Don't push it, Crabtree.

Sir, if we could have
your attendance

in the inspector's office,
please.

Certainly.

This way, Your Highness.

- No.
- Your Highness.

We don't have all the details,
but if you were to stay,

you could be endangering
your life.

If I might advise, sir,

I suggest we call off the visit
at once.

And still my answer is no.

My grandmother,

who I'll remind you
has been Queen of England

for nearly 60 years,

has had at least five attempts
on her life.

Which is exactly why, sir...

Which is exactly why I intend
to represent her faithfully

and fulfill all my duties
here in Toronto.

Prince Alfred, sir...

Now I believe there's a library
to be dedicated.

Of course, sir.

We've checked
all of the locations,

and the constables report
nothing out of the ordinary.

And there's nothing
in the prince's schedule

that puts him
at any of these locations.

What if we're wrong?

We're not wrong.

We're just missing something.

Sir?

I found Tucker works
in a livery.

Get every available man
and check it out.

Sir, I've already done that.
He's not there.

Well, what good is that, then?

Because the livery he worked at

rented the carriages
for the royal visit.

Constable,
you may make detective yet.

Thank you, sir.

So, the carriage
may be involved.

But now "Where? "
is the question.

Here.

That's where the prince
is dedicating the library.

Your Highness,
something's wrong.

Come with me to the carriage!

- Everybody out!
- Excuse us! Excuse us!

Move! Move!

- George?
- Sir!

Ah, Your Highness.
Thank goodness you're all right.

Just thank God
no one was injured.

With one fortunate exception.

Detective, take a look at this.

Looks like a necklace fused into
the victim's skin by the blast.

Can you remove it?

That's exactly like Maggie
Gilpatrick's missing necklace.

Suggesting a personal
relationship between them.

Her gentleman friend,
Mr. Tucker.

Most likely.

The bomb must have detonated
when he was planting it.

- So, it's over, then?
- I hope so.

But we must remain realistic.

There could still be members
of the Brotherhood.

It's best to be cautious.

We've devised a plan
for tomorrow's parade.

We'll brief you on it
in the morning.

Excellent work, gentlemen.

I can finally sleep more easily.

Good night, sir.
Sleep well.

John Tucker is dead.

Well, congratulations,
Detective.

You got your man.

Did you know about the bomb?

What bomb?

That's the way it's going to be,
then, is it?

- I'm just a frog in your eyes.
- Yeah.

And I'm just a lowly mick
in yours.

That's not the case,
at least not on my end.

Am I free to go?

Yes.

All the best, Will.

So, once again,
the plan is for the prince,

accompanied by Constable
Crabtree and the Inspector,

to take the royal carriage
to Queen's Park

via the parade route.

Crabtree, is His Highness ready?

Indeed he is, sir.

- That's not bad at all.
- No.

- Hardly as handsome, though.
- No.

Of course, sir.

Sir, do you think I could wave?

Out the carriage window, I mean.

There's a regal twist of
the wrist you'll need to know,

but, yes.

Try not to show your face.

Of course, sir.

Once inside the Queen's Park
legislative building,

you will wait for us.

And Mr. Jennings,
Prince Alfred, and myself

will take the circuitous route

and arrive at the rear
of Queen's Park.

Right, then.

Let's get on with it.

Your Highness,

the plan is to meet the carriage
at the back of the hotel.

Small change of plan.

They must have delivered
their ransom demands by now.

So, why haven't they killed us?

We'll get you out of this,
Your Highness.

It's you that
I'm concerned about, Detective.

Jennings,
why are you doing this?

What do you want?

It's simple, Your Highness.

I want my country back.

Hello, Will.

Bloody hell! What do you mean
it was abandoned, eh?

We found their carriage
at Summerhill Ravine, sir.

And the hotel suite?
Any clues there?

Nothing to indicate
anything was amiss.

Inspector,
is Detective Murdoch here?

- I'm afraid not.
- Then I'll speak with you.

This is not a very good time,
Doctor.

I think
you'll want to hear this.

I found this
in John Tucker's body.

- He was shot?
- In the chest.

He would have died
almost instantly.

So, someone killed him
and made it appear

that he died planting the bomb.

They probably thought the fire
would destroy his body.

But why kill Tucker?

To make us think
we'd foiled the plot already.

So you'd drop your guard.

And apparently it worked.
Thank you, Doctor.

Inspector, Detective Murdoch.

He's in danger, is he?

Yes, he is.

But you won't be seeing him
on your slab anytime soon.

I promise you.

This friend of Murdoch's.
What's his name?

Eddie Cullen, sir.

Find out everything you can
about him.

I want to know who he is,
where he lives,

and what he had for breakfast,
understood?

- Sir.
- Sir.

You're only making things worse
for yourself.

By now, the police will know
what's happened.

Doesn't matter.

This plan's been months
in the making.

If that's the case,

it couldn't possibly have
included Detective Murdoch.

Let him go, Jennings.

You're in no position
to be making demands.

Your Highness.

Mr. Jennings.

This is insanity.

You'll never get away with this.
Give up.

You've already lost one man.

A small price to pay.

And what about
Maggie Gilpatrick's death?

Was that a small price to pay
as well?

What about Maggie?
She had nothing to do with this.

She knew
what she was getting into.

What?

Jennings?

What about you, Eddie?

Two people have now died.

Is this what you thought
you were getting into?

Just shut up.
All right?

Sir, this arrived at The Gazette
20 minutes ago.

"We free the prince
when you free Ireland. "

That's an impossible demand.

There's something not quite
right here.

How did they get onto our plans?

Well, think, Crabtree.

They must have got someone
on the inside.

I'm pretty certain
it's not one of us,

and it's definitely not
His Highness.

So, who does that leave?

- Jennings.
- Exactly.

We need to send a telegram.

I'll wire Scotland Yard,
find out everything they know.

Good man.

You're going to kill us, Eddie.

What has to be done
has to be done.

Just like Maggie Gilpatrick?

Is that why she was murdered?

No.

No, she was killed because she
came to her senses, didn't she?

She realized
that this is not the answer.

Deep down, you know it, too,
don't you?

Eddie, I know how painful
it must have been

to lose your wife and daughter,

but this is no way
to resolve those feelings.

I'm not going to let them
get away with it, Will.

- Sir, I found something.
- So did we.

Listen up!

This just arrived
from the Home Office.

It seems that David Jennings had
a brother who went by an alias.

Tucker.
John Tucker.

Who we know was shot.

But, then, if it was Jennings,

then, I mean, could he have
killed his own brother?

It's a possibility.

What do you have there, Higgins?

I searched high and low
for anything on Eddie, sir.

These are land titles.

Eddie Cullen lived in the city,

but his mother had
a country house.

She left it to him
when she died.

I've done some checking, sir.
No one has lived there since.

Crabtree,
get the carriages ready.

Mulligan, break out the armory.

So, is this what you believe in
now, Eddie?

Killing an innocent man

to avenge the deaths
of innocent people?

That man isn't innocent.

He has the blood of my family
on his hands.

He didn't kill
Abigail and Katie.

He's not responsible.

What happened to the man I knew,
Edward?

The man about to go
into the seminary?

The man who believed
in the sanctity of life?

He died with his family, Will.
He's dead.

I don't believe you.

This is the police!

You're surrounded!

Come out
and throw down your guns!

How'd they find us?

Who snitched?

Who bleeding snitched?

Was it you?

You?

Huh?

You treacherous liars.

I'll kill
the bleeding lot of you.

Jennings!
Nobody snitched.

They just caught up to us.
That's all, all right?

Jennings!
Surrender now!

If you don't,
we're coming in for you.

What are you doing?

Jennings, what are you doing?
Will you stop it?

It's the only way.

The prince dies now.

Are you mad, man?

Shut up!

He dies now.

And we die with him.

Patrick.

Put it down.

Put the bleeding thing down now.
You're not thinking straight.

Why?

Was it you that gave us away?

All your meetings with
your bleeding detective there?

- He didn't say anything.
- Shut up!

He's telling the truth.
I'm with you.

All right?

Well, prove it.

Shoot him.

This what you want now, yeah?

Do it, Cullen.

This what you want, yeah?

Do it!

You're not a killer, Eddie.

Maybe I am.

Eddie!

Drop that gun!
Drop it!

Come on, out!

Your Highness, this way!

Go, go, go!

Eddie, where are you going?

Will, I'll have a noose
around my neck within a week.

No, no.
I'll tell them what you did.

You saved the prince's life.

I'm going off to join my family,
Will.

What?
Eddie.

I'll see you on the other side.
All the best, all right?

No!

Sir, no!

Are you all right?

I fear Eddie died for nothing.

He had a change of heart.

He died heroically.

That's what I keep
trying to convince myself of.

Nothing so important
can ever come too late.

I hope not.

I'm sorry.
Did I say something wrong?

No, William.

I'm just glad you're here.