All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S04E09.BDRip.x264-NVA

Right this way, folks.

Come on in.
Please, find your seats.

And go to the back, please.

Constable Higgins.
What have you?

Well, the streetcar made it
a stop down the line

before the incident
was noted, sir.

And as for the victim,
it's a real puzzle, sir.

Indeed.

Doctor, I hear we have
something out of the ordinary.

A single gunshot wound
to the torso.

I suspect it hit the heart.

Brazen, but hardly odd.

According to Constable
Higgins, no one heard the shot.

Ah.

Ah, indeed.

Perhaps he was shot elsewhere.

Given the severity
of the wound,

he would have left an impressive
blood trail, and there's none.

Hmm.

So if he was shot
where he sits...

and no one heard...

A stray bullet.

Some boys shooting at bottles.

Or some unrelated dispute?

A return railway ticket
from New York City.

Well, we've given him
quite the welcoming.

Something to write home about.

If you find anything
else out, Doctor.

As usual.

Henry, impound
this streetcar, please.

Yes, sir.

According his business card,

our victim is
a Wilbur Delory, Esquire,

539 Gilmore Street, New York.

Have George inquire

with the New York City Police,
please.

Yes, sir.

Oh, and, sir, a few riders saw
a man in a boater hat

board the car
with Mr. Delory, sir.

They were having a friendly
conversation by all accounts.

And where is this man?

He got off the car
before it left the station, sir.

I'm afraid
no one saw his face clearly.

Perhaps he was just
seeing Mr. Delory on his way?

Interesting turn of phrase,
Henry.

Henry, get this man's
description, such as it is,

out on the wire,

and have the men canvas
the area

for any reports of gunfire.

Straightaway, sir.

Ah, sir.

As per your request,
I've wired New York City Police

about Mr. Delory's information.

Very good, George.

Sir, there's a rather fetching
lady waiting for you

in your office.

Oh? I'm not expecting anyone.
Who is she?

Well, from the little
we spoke,

I gather that
you two are acquainted.

- Who is she?
- Sir, I haven't the foggiest.

Thank you.

Anna Fulford.
My goodness!

Hello, William.

What brings you to Toronto?

I'm on my way to Niagara Falls
with my fiancé.

Your fiancé.

Ah, congratulations.

William, he's vanished.

Vanished?

I'm at my wits' end.

I think something terrible
must have happened.

Ladies and gentlemen...

Yes. Listen.

Absolute--I appreciate
your concern.

- I understand.
- What now?

We need to deal with this
in an orderly fashion.

Crabtree,
get here.

Sir, it seems there has been
a rash of petty crimes

in their neighborhood.

Pickpocketing, laundry stolen
off clotheslines,

missing chickens.

- Chickens?
- I have a theory, sir.

Make it quick.

A gypsy caravan has just
set up camp down by the river.

Gypsies?
Bloody thieves.

Well, sir, the gypsy concept
of ownership

is different from ours.

- Well, sort it out.
- Sir, I will.

- Where will you be?
- My office.

My campaign manager
is stopping by.

Oh.

It'll be quieter in here.

I'm sorry to bother you,
William.

I couldn't think
what else to do.

It's quite all right.

I would have been upset if
you hadn't come to me, Anna.

Please, tell me what happened.

Oh, Joe left our hotel
at about 7:00 last night

to look for a tobacconist.

We were supposed to meet for
dinner in the hotel restaurant

at half-past,
and he never arrived.

He literally went out for
tobacco and never came back.

Forgive me for asking, Anna,

but were you and he
having troubles?

No!

We were on our way to
Niagara Falls to get married.

I'm sorry, William,
I didn't mean to snap.

It's quite all right.

And Joe's last name?

Bell.

A few months after you and I
had our adventure in Bristol,

I finally plucked up the courage
to sail to New York.

Joe was the best thing
about that place.

It's loud and filthy
and the people are horrible.

I take it Joe is
the exception.

He is.

Strong and forthright, kind.

There aren't many like that.

Anyway, a short while after,
he proposed,

and I thought all my dreams
had come true.

We'll find him, Anna.

Look at me, I haven't even
asked how you've been.

Oh, uh, I'm well.

And Julia?
Are you and she still...

Uh, we're still
very close, yes.

Julia is engaged to another.

Oh, William, I'm sorry.

That's quite all right.
I'm fine.

Now, I'll need
a description of Joe.

Yes.
He's about your build.

Dark complexion,
I suppose you'd say,

a moustache,
and black hair.

What is it, William?

This new look of yours
is going over very well

with the voters
and the press, Tommy.

So I hear.

Now, what's this all about,
Isaac?

Well, it seems that you are
in a tighter horse race

with your opponent
than we had hoped for.

But just days ago you said

that Ellis Cornwall
was dead in the water.

What's happened?

Well, things change quickly
in politics.

Cornwall's anti-immigrant stand
has become increasingly popular.

As a result, he has gained
significant support

for his opposition to
the subway project as well.

Cornwall says "no"
to any new idea.

A bloody Luddite
is what he is.

Because he understands
people are afraid of change.

Now, he's savvy.

He's a numbskull.
People will see through that.

Don't be simple, Tommy.

Trust the people's judgment,
and you're doomed.

And the immigrant issue aside,
without you on city council,

we don't have
sufficient numbers

to pass the subway project vote
next month.

Now, Edwin Drury
and the rest of your backers

at the land consortium
are getting nervous.

So what do we do?

We beat Cornwall
at his own game,

and an opportunity
to do just that

has landed on our doorstep.

It has?

The gypsy crime spree.

Crime spree?
A few minor thefts?

There's nothing
minor about it, Tommy.

In fact, you have just released
a statement saying

that you are shocked
at these brazen gypsies

and that you intend
to lock up the guilty

and run the rest
out of town.

When did I release
this statement exactly?

It'll be in
all the afternoon papers.

But we've barely had time
to look into these crimes.

A statement's premature.

Not if you want to convince
the voters that as alderman,

you will be their champion
of law and order,

that you intend
to right the ship,

to see your dream of
"Toronto the Good" come true.

Now, you've promised that
in all your speeches.

Don't you want to show them that
was more than just words?

- Of course I do.
- That's my boy, Tommy!

It's time to draw a line
in the sand.

Now, go right that ship

and show those gypsies
who they're really dealing with.

Is this Joe?

Anna, I know how difficult
this must be for you.

It's not Joe.

Thank God.
He's still alive.

Right, then.

I believe what would be best now
is for you to get some rest.

I'll let you know
as soon as there's news.

Constable Morris, please
escort Miss Fulford to her hotel

and stay there with her
until I can join you.

Thank you, William.

She's lovely.

Poor thing.

I can't imagine
how I'd feel in her situation.

Well, then, it would appear
that Mr. Delory is,

in fact, himself.

Has your postmortem
revealed anything, Doctor?

Yes.

I recovered this slug--
.32 caliber.

Given the powder burns
on his skin,

Mr. Delory was shot point-blank.

Ruling out a stray bullet.

I don't understand, Julia.

The passengers
would have heard a gunshot.

I know.
I've no explanation, either.

And I found this:

metal filings.

They were embedded in the wound
and the victim's jacket.

As if they were also
fired from the gun?

If so, you're dealing with
a most unusual weapon.

I believe I need to return
to the scene of the crime.

Metal filings, sir?

Yes, like those recovered
from the victim's body.

Henry, I'll need you
to gather a few items for me.

Certainly, sir.

From where?

A millwright.

Right, then.

Who's in charge here?

When I ask a question,
I expect an answer.

You've got till the count of
three before we take action.

One, two...

Put those damn sticks away.

What are you, then?
Their queen?

He thinks I'm a gypsy queen.

Well, you must be
the police king.

I'm Inspector
Thomas Brackenreid.

Just who the hell are you?

I am the Phuri Dae.

The furry what?

It means "wise woman."

I am the one who will
speak with you, only me.

Come.

And no weapons.

Uh, sir, I should come
with you

just to make sure
that your safety is...

Just keep your eye
on this lot, Crabtree.

Yes, sir.

So, Miss
whatever your name is,

there's been a crime spree
in this neighborhood

since you lot turned up.

Really?

Well, I will tell my clan to be
on guard for those criminals.

Don't play coy with me.

Your clan needs to pack up
and move on.

Inspector Brackenreid,
gypsies are used to persecution.

We aren't intimidated.

Please, show me
the evidence against us.

You're trespassing
on city property.

You've got until noon tomorrow
to be gone.

Otherwise, I can't answer
for what might happen.

Neither can I.

Murdoch.

Ah, sir.
How did it go with the gypsies?

- Bunch of goat-herders.
- That well.

They'll be gone by tomorrow if
they know what's good for them.

What are you working on?

It's a speculative notion
at the moment.

To do with this impossible
shooting of yours?

- Yes, sir.
- How's that going?

Well, sir, we've confirmed
that the victim was indeed

a Wilbur Delory
from New York City,

in town on business,
according to his family.

Two incidents both involving
New York City residents:

Delory and Miss Fulford's
missing fiancé.

Yes, sir.
Perhaps there's a connection.

The fiancé knew
this other bloke,

had a row with him,
killed him, and ran.

Could be as simple as that.

The thought had crossed
my mind.

Keep an eye out, Murdoch.

Miss Fulford's runaway groom
could be

a bit of a dangerous character.

Sir, Constable Morris
just telephoned

from the Imperial Hotel.

Miss Fulford took a message at
the front desk from her fiancé.

Indeed.

Have Morris stay put
with Miss Fulford

until I can get there.

Mr. Morris just found
this out now.

He thought Miss Fulford was
in her room.

I don't understand, George.

Where is Miss Fulford now?

Sir, she's on the way
to meet her fiancé.

What?

Do we have any idea
where she was going?

The man at the front desk
who took the message

said the Gerard Street Bridge,
sir.

Anna!

Anna!

William!

William, I finally heard--

What the hell are you doing?

Joe would never harm anyone
let alone try and kill me.

But he contacted you
with instructions

that led you into an ambush.

Anna, just how well
did you know him, really?

Just what does that mean?

Well, you've had
a whirlwind romance.

And you barged into my pub

with a bullet through your arm
a year ago,

begging me to believe
you weren't a murderer,

so don't you dare
question my judgment!

But isn't it possible that
your love for Joe

has blinded you
to the truth about him?

Right.

If I'm to help you find Joe,

I'll need to know everything
you know about him.

Where do I start?

Was he well-off?
Where did he work?

He has his own business

shipping cargo
back and forth to Europe.

What sort of cargo?

I'm not sure.

That's all right.

We can find all of that out

if you just tell me
the name of the company.

I don't actually know.

You weren't far off
when you said whirlwind.

Oh, this is embarrassing.

Did Joe ever mention
a Wilbur Delory?

I don't think so.
Who is he?

He's the unfortunate gentleman
I showed you in the morgue.

And he had a bullet in him.

Are you seriously suggesting
that the man I love

is going about Toronto
shooting people

and probably trying
to kill me?

I don't know anything
at the moment, Anna.

But I do know that I don't wish
to see you harmed.

Well, Joe would never harm me.
I know he wouldn't.

Is that it?

Virtually no noise.

I got the idea after reading
about Hiram Maxim's attempts

to muffle the sound
of internal combustion motors.

So this is a "muffler"
so to speak.

Yes, George,

which would explain why
no one on the streetcar

heard the gunshot.

Insidious is what it is.

I agree.

The key to this "muffler",
as you call it, George,

is the sound-dampening
properties of metal filings

stuffed into a series
of conical baffles

along the length--

"Silencer."
That has a better ring to it.

I'm sorry, sir.

Along the length
of the cylinder--

"Baffler."
That's the ticket.

So those metal filings are
like the ones found

in the victim's wound?

Correct, sir.

They would have been blown
out of the gun

with the force of the shot.

Murdoch, a man travels
all the way from New York City

to commit murder and uses
a highly-specialized device

that ensures he can slip away
into thin air.

What does that sound like
to you?

I believe we're dealing
with an assassin.

- Tommy, we have a problem.
- We do?

Mr. Drury,
good to see you again.

I took care of our problem,
gentlemen.

The gypsies will be gone
by tomorrow one way or another.

You should have run them
out of town on sight, Inspector.

A number of my neighbors
on Jarvis Street,

many of whom I convinced
to contribute to your campaign,

were burglarized last night
by those lowlifes.

What makes you think
it was the gypsies?

My son, Edwin Jr.,
and his friends saw

the gypsy men themselves
from our drawing room.

The thieves were breaking
into Number 28.

First a minor crime wave,

now these major thefts
by these immigrant peasants.

Ellis Cornwall will rake you
over the coals with this

unless you react
with an iron hand.

But we can still turn this
to your advantage,

but we need arrests, and we need
the caravan out of town

before the evening papers
hit the streets.

I can see your point,
gentlemen,

but that's not how
I left it with them.

We should give the gypsies
a chance to--

Brackenreid, you've--

We've got a potential disaster
on our hands.

Just get back to that camp and
get them the hell out of there.

And I'm sending the press,
so I don't want any mistakes.

Everything Mr. Drury's
consortium has worked for

depends upon this, Tommy.

Everything you've worked for.

You wanted to see me, Doctor?

Yes, I've received a request
from Mr. Delory's family

to have his remains
returned to New York.

Yes, I see no reason why not.

Right.

Then I'll release the body
to the mortician here

that the family
made arrangements with.

He's to ship the body to a
funeral parlor in New York City.

Very good.

Is there something else?

Yes.

I suppose I was wondering how
you'll keep Miss Fulford safe

now there's been an attempt made
on her life?

Well, I've asked her
to remain at the station house

until I can arrange
protective custody.

And once the killer is caught--

Why can't she stay with me?

- With you?
- Yes.

The killer would never think
to look for her in my home,

and she'd be more at ease.

Yes, but--

Consider what
Anna's going through, William.

If the gunman is her fiancé,

then she's been
horribly betrayed,

and she's lost
the love of her life.

It's heartbreaking.

Indeed.

I'll arrange it.

Right, you lot,
there's no need for trouble,

but if that's what you want,
then I'm happy to oblige.

Thomas--

Tommy Brackenreid is fair
but tough.

Are you getting all
this down, Glynn?

Every golden word.

- Good lad.
- Inspector!

You will stop this immediately.

Ma'am, I'll ask you to
stay back for your own safety.

It's all right, Crabtree.

What you've got
to understand is that

there's no point crying
over this.

The decision's been taken.

By who?

Oh. I see.

So you were following
someone else's orders.

You're a messenger boy.

You've got nothing
to complain about.

If it wasn't for me,
we'd be rounding everybody up,

not just the men.

You gave us until tomorrow.

You were going nowhere,
and you know it.

Mm, so I am the liar?

Well, in that case,
you leave me no choice.

What you seek,
you shall never gain.

What's that supposed to mean?

She is remarkable.
Who is she?

Never you mind.
Get on with your job.

Sir, I think she just put
a gypsy curse on you.

A curse, was it?

Thank you, Crabtree.

She did no such thing.

Right, you lot, come on.
Chop-chop.

I don't know how to thank you
for your kindness, Doctor.

Call me Julia.

May I ask you
a personal question, Julia?

Of course.

Well, the way William
spoke of you in Bristol,

I got the feeling you and him
were destined for each other.

But now you're engaged
to someone else.

So I was wondering...

What happened?

I don't mean to pry.
It's just--

Well, it's important to me
that William's happy.

It's good of you
to care for him.

I still do, very much.

But it became obvious
that our futures were...

just not compatible.

It must be true what they say.

Love isn't always enough.

Sir, your signature is needed.

The customs form
regarding Mr. Delory's body.

Yes, of course.

What is it, George?

Well, sir, with respect to
the Jarvis Street break-ins,

the inspector,
he hasn't even asked

to interview
any of the residents.

He's just taken it
on Edwin Drury's word

that it was the gypsies.

There's a saying, George:
it's just politics.

- Yes, but, sir--
- Don't worry.

I'll make sure that
the thefts

are thoroughly investigated
very soon.

In the meantime,

the inspector needs
our support and discretion.

Yes, sir.

That's odd.

The funeral home that
Mr. Delory's body

is meant to be shipped to...

It's different than the one
his family requested.

No one should disturb
the dead, not even the police.

Mr. Palmer, we contacted
Mr. Delory's family

in New York City,

and they had no idea
arrangements

for Mr. Delory's body
had been changed.

But they contacted me
directly.

Someone contacted you,

but it wasn't
Mr. Delory's family.

And whoever it was has been
going to great lengths

to obtain his body.

I want to know why.

Sir, that body's
sitting awfully high up.

Mr. Delory seems anxious
to escape

this shipping coffin,
Mr. Palmer.

Can you explain why?

I cannot.

It's a false bottom, sir.

If you please, George.

One, two...

Oh, my.

Well, George,

it appears we've found
Miss Fulford's fiancé.

I'm sorry, Anna.

I need some air.

- I'll come with you.
- William!

She needs time to herself.

Of course.

I have preliminary results.

Joe Bell died of a single
gunshot wound to the abdomen.

.32 caliber,
the same as the other victim.

And I found metal filings
in the wound.

Time of death?

Roughly 24 hours ago.

He was killed
before Mr. Delory.

Why are these two men dead?

And why on Earth would
someone want Anna dead as well?

And why would the killer want
to ship Joe Bell's body

back to New York in secret?

It's a conundrum to be sure,
sir.

Well, whatever his reason,
the killer comes up

with this
double-coffin deception.

But he needs a second corpse to
put on top of Joe Bell's body.

So he must have known
Delory was from New York.

The streetcar witnesses claim

that two men were chatting
moments before the murder.

So the murderer killed Delory

simply because
he needed a corpse?

Sir, the disregard
for human life...

Indeed, George.

This assassin is well-suited
to his calling.

I don't believe
we've seen his like before.

Bloody hell, Glynn!
What were you thinking, eh?

You were supposed to write
about the arrests,

not this curse bollocks.

But a gypsy curse,

how could I ignore
a thing like that?

I thought we had a deal.

I give you scoops over
all the other broadsheets

in exchange for good press
on my station house.

On your station house, yes,
not your political aspirations.

Is it possible
you've confused the two?

If your reporting costs me
this election,

I guarantee I'll find a way
to make you sorry.

Is that a quote, Inspector?

- Sir.
- What do you want, Crabtree?

Sir, the gypsy women have
begun a sort of vigil outside.

Outside?
Are you serious?

Yes, sir.

That wise woman of theirs says
they won't leave

until their men are released.

Shall I have the lads try
to move them off?

What, with Glynn
out there lurking

ready to make a fool
out of me again?

Sir, if I were
an objective observer,

which I believe I am,

I might observe that--

Sir, I believe your policing
methods have suffered of late.

Did I hear you correctly,
Crabtree?

Yes, sir.

What?

Oh, Mr. Drury,
I'm so sorry.

Yes, sir.
I'll be right there.

Where are those Jarvis Street
break-in reports?

I'll fetch them, sir.

I never saw the man,
Detective.

I received a telephone call.

And this caller,
what did he offer you?

The continued use of my legs.

I see.

Mr. Palmer, how did the second
body get into the coffin

without you seeing
who put it there?

The caller asked me to prepare
the Delory corpse

and then go for a stroll.

I was to leave the door open
and come back in an hour.

That's all I know.

Detective,
who are these people

that threaten
such ghastly violence?

Sir.

The break-in reports.

Detective.

The men have been showing photos
of Joe Bell around town.

They discovered he made
a visit to Union Station

not long before he was killed.

- He was alone?
- Yes, sir.

Why return to Union Station?

Well, apparently he stored
several items while in transit.

He requested access
to a piece of luggage

and then left the station.

Beyond that, I'm afraid
the trail goes cold, sir.

Well, whatever he was doing,

it was certainly without
Miss Fulford's knowledge.

We need to find out what
he put into storage, Henry.

Sir.

How do you do it, Murdoch?

Joe loved this watch.

It kept terrible time.

These are the rest
of his effects.

Thank you.

What will you do
when all this is over?

Start again, I suppose.

Though it's hard
to imagine how.

I suppose we become
so accustomed

to the shape
of our lives,

we're convinced
that no other is possible.

And yet, of course, it is.

You know, I've fallen for
two men in the space of a year,

and I've lost them both.

There's always the nunnery.

Two men?

One was Joe.

The other walked
into my pub in Bristol.

But his heart belonged
to another.

Oh.

My chaperone
is growing impatient.

I should return to the safety
of your home.

Of course.

Thank you.

I have to say
I'm surprised at you, Tommy,

very surprised.

I asked a simple thing,
and you made a mess of it.

The round-up went
exactly to plan, Mr. Drury.

So Paddy Glynn's
the problem?

Don't look to side-step
the blame.

I beg your pardon?

Who was it sent him
down there?

Inspector,
I will not accept failure.

You need to counter-attack
after this fiasco.

I'm open to ideas.

Well...

There is something that might
"right the ship", sir.

I'm listening.

Perhaps your family
would care

to attend the theater
this evening?

I could teach Joe Bell
a thing or two.

When I travel, I pack
one valise and a shoe box.

Henry, a one-hour carriage
ride to your mother's house

doesn't count as traveling.

Sir, where would you like
this monstrosity?

Right here
on the work table, George.

Right, then.

Let's see what brought Joe Bell
to Union Station.

I'm betting
it's another body, sir.

It often is.

It often is, Henry?

And we have...

tin cans.

No doubt full of body parts,
Higgins.

And inside is...

Oil.

Sir?

Olive oil to be precise.

Who would go carting around
gallons of olive oil

while they're on vacation?

There's something in here.

What on Earth?

American $20 bills.

Sir, if the other tins are
filled with the same,

there's a fortune here.

Sir, who was this Joe Bell?

How did he come by
all this money?

I have no idea, George,

but it's a fair bet that
this is why he was murdered.

The paper itself is low grade,

high in linen,
lacking in cotton.

And, if you look at
Alexander Hamilton's buttons,

there are two.

There should be three.

So this Joe Bell was
a counterfeiter

who couldn't count.

No, in fact.

According to the United States
Secret Service,

this particular counterfeiter
is a forger who lives in Sicily.

Sicily?

How did this fake money end up
in New York?

Miss Fulford said
that her fiancé, Joe Bell,

had a shipping company--
various cargo.

Some of which was
Sicilian olive oil.

Yes.

Now, the question is
whether or not

Mr. Bell was part
of this counterfeiting ring

or if he simply happened upon
the hidden money.

Well, either way,
he helps himself to a few tins,

and he makes a run for it.

Yes,
and the rightful owners

sent an assassin
to track him down.

And the rightful owners are?

The New York City Police have
no knowledge of this Joe Bell,

but they did recognize
the double-coffin ruse.

It's a technique used
by an organized crime group

called the Black Hand.

The double coffin allows them
to transport victims

they don't want discovered.

Pragmatic cutthroats.

Apparently this Black Hand
has its roots in Sicily

but has been moving into New
York City's Italian community.

First a band of gypsies,

now something called
organized crime.

"Toronto the Good", indeed.

So do you have a plan
to put a stop to this business?

I might.

Brilliant, 'cause I have
a crime wave of my own

to deal with.

Oh, yes, I've heard.

And you hope
for a speedy conclusion.

I do.

With the actual thieves behind
bars, if you were wondering.

- I was not.
- Good.

Now, you have some unpleasant
business to attend to.

Yes.

Joe would never associate
with this Black Hand.

He was a good soul.

No doubt.

But he did steal
from the Black Hand.

And it cost him his life
and put yours in jeopardy.

I swear I had no idea
what Joe was doing.

And I believe you.

But the attempt on your life
would suggest

that the Black Hand
feels otherwise.

And it's this mistaken belief
that's the basis for my idea.

- To catch his killer?
- Yes.

Now, it stands to reason

that the Black Hand wants
the money back.

And I intend
to give it to them.

Why would you want to give
those murderers anything?

To draw out the assassin.

I'll send them a telegram
pretending to be you,

and that you know
what they've done.

"Anna" will offer the money
in exchange for her life,

and when the killer
presents himself,

he'll be apprehended.

And how will you
contact them?

There is a funeral parlor
in New York City

I believe the Black Hand uses
as a cover.

I'll wire them the specifics
of where and when

the exchange is
to take place.

Well, I want to be there
with you.

It's far too dangerous.

But the killer will
expect to see me.

If he doesn't,
he might slink away,

and you'll never catch him.

Anna, I will not use you
as bait.

William, if our roles
were reversed,

if you were after the killer
of the woman you loved,

you would not want
to be denied a role.

No, I would not.

Right.

So what can I do to help?

Have you come to beg me
to lift the curse?

No.

Something even more
difficult than that.

I'm here to admit
that I was wrong.

Yes?

I know your men didn't
commit those break-ins,

but apologies aren't going
to get them out

of the situation
they're in.

So your words are empty.

No.

I do have a plan,
but I need your help.

Release my men first.

I can't.

For this to work, they must
remain in jail one more night.

May I?

The public has to believe
the men are free.

I need your women
to cancel their vigil

outside my station house.

And suppose your big plan
doesn't work?

Well, for one thing, you won't
have to curse me again.

I'll have the whole city
doing that.

And the police king
will fall?

He will.

Whoa.

Yah!

Well, well, well.

What do we have here?

They're friends of my son,
Edwin Jr.

Yes, the ones so eager to give
statements blaming the gypsies.

It was Edwin Jr.'s idea.

- That's rubbish.
- It's true, I swear.

What was Edwin Jr.'s idea?

Speak!

To rob each others' house
when our families were out.

These boys are just trying
to get my son in trouble.

No, I don't think so.

You see, Mr. Drury,

I went back over
your boy's statement.

Before I came back up here
this afternoon,

I stopped off
in front of Number 28.

There's no line of sight
between there

and that drawing room window.

Which means your boy
and these two were lying

when they said they saw
the gypsies

breaking into the place.

It was a setup,

and I'm afraid
your son instigated it all.

Well, thank you, Inspector.

You can rest assured that my son
will be dealt with severely.

Actually, there'll
be no back-room deals.

I'll have my men arrest
Edwin Jr. at the theater.

I'd think twice about that.

You will humiliate my family
and theirs.

Tommy, this--this may
not be the smart move.

What are you saying, Lowe?

Well, politics is
all about the compromise,

the give and the take.

So you give a little on this,

and then you
take a little on that.

Are you attempting to bribe
an officer of the law?

Of course not.

You told me to make this city
"Toronto the Good",

and I'm doing just that.

Let's not mince words
here, Tommy.

You're making a mistake
that will go far beyond

throwing your campaign away.

Bribes? Threats?

Now, I may not know much
about politics,

but I do know about the law,

and you two are that close
to breaking it.

Boys!
Outside.

Tommy, Tommy...

The name is
Inspector Brackenreid,

and I say to hell
with politics.

You two can dig that subway
your bloody selves.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir, you'll
have to take the next car.

But this is the last one.

We have an extra car
running tonight.

I don't understand
why I can't take this one.

We're on
a very tight schedule.

Tight schedule?

These cars never run on time!

Sir, I'm sorry.

I'm gonna have to ask you
to step aside.

I have to make my shift.
If I'm late, I'll be sacked.

- Sir, I understand.
- What is the issue?

Look, sir.

Drop your weapon!

Anna!

What on Earth?

He murdered Joe.

Come on.

Joe Bell was a member
of the Black Hand.

He handled shipping
of the counterfeit money

into New York City.

And all of that
was going smoothly

until he met and fell in love
with Anna Fulford.

And then he wanted out.

So he took the money to start
their new life together.

Correct me if I'm wrong.

So the Black Hand sent you
to kill Joe Bell.

And in bringing his body back
to New York City

it would send out
a very clear message:

"steal from the Black Hand,

and we'll find you
and kill you."

Anna Fulford is innocent.

She played no part in this.

Oh, we don't see it that way.

No harm will come to her.

You don't understand.

Someone will replace me.

If they fail,
they will be replaced.

The woman will die.

The Black Hand does not forget.

It will come for her
and for this city.

So you're off?

It's better this way.

They say Peterborough
is a nice little town.

So I've heard.

Lots of chickens.

I never would have thought this
a couple of days ago,

but I think I'll miss you.

Your clan, I mean.

Thank you, Inspector.

You will forgive us
if we don't send postcards.

Right.

And I'm glad that you're here,

because I have to
lift the curse.

Don't bother.

It wasn't actually a curse
as it turned out.

I must be losing my touch.

Take care of yourself,
Inspector.

You're one of the good ones.

I never did get your name.

Mirela.

Mirela.

So these people
will hunt me down and kill me

simply to save face?

I'm afraid so.

I'm not sure I can
resign myself to that.

You don't have to.

But you just said--

Anna, I can't protect you,

but I can help you hide.

But I don't want
to run and hide, William.

I want to stay here.

You can't.

Well, Bristol, then.

I could go home.

We've had these documents
made up for you.

They're your new identity,
a new name, a new past.

Everything you'll need.

But where will I go?

What am I going to do?

Anna, what's important
is surviving

to be able
to make those decisions.

I'm so sorry,
but it's the best I can do.

How did this happen?

Both of us losing the futures
we counted on?

Perhaps when enough time
has passed,

you can come to me.

No.

No, you must never tell anyone
what's become of Anna Fulford.

Not even me.

To do so would place us both
in great danger.

So this really is good-bye?

I'll miss you, William.

Thank you, William.

Good luck, Anna.