All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S15E07.WEBRip.x264-BAE

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One would expect that the body

would have been thrown
by the oncoming train.

Indeed. Instead of being hit and thrown,

she appears to have been run over

while laying on the tracks.

Suicide, perhaps?

One possibility.

Doesn't appear to carry
any identification.

We should get her body off
the tracks before the 7:15.

Gentlemen?

Seems your suicide might
not be a suicide after all.

What are we looking at?

Limestone, typical of
macadam paving material.

I saw no macadam at the railroad tracks.

Someone must have moved her body.

It was likely she was already dead
when the train cut her in half.

Excellent work, Mrs. Hart.

We eagerly await your
postmortem results.

Mrs. Hart, where do you buy your hats?

- Hats?
- Well, according to my wife,

"Violet Hart wears the
most exquisite hats."

Oh! Well, tell your
wife I'm very flattered.

I get them made at Miss
Driscoll's millinery on Queen.

Ah! Thank you.

Margaret's been in
the doldrums recently.

I think a jaunty new titfor

might put the spring back in her step.

- Titfor?
- Tit for tat! Hat.

Good day, Mrs. Hart.

Oh!

- What is it you're looking for?
- A map.

Well, you've got plenty of them there.

I'm looking for a specific map.

Here it is.

The planning map of Toronto.

It indicates which
paving material is used

on each of the city's streets.

Macadam is green.

The deceased's body was
found on the tracks... here.

And the nearest stretch of macadam?

Here.

Her name was Jennifer Drask.

We were in the process of notifying

the authorities of her disappearance.

A sad end to a wretched life.

What was her crime?

Extortion. Larceny.

Miss Drask had a knack for
relieving people of their money.

And her record as an inmate?

Exemplary.

As you know, we seek to
rehabilitate, not punish.

Miss Drask was intent
on bettering herself.

That's why her escape
comes as such a surprise.

I don't think it was an escape.

I believe Miss Drask was murdered

and her body was moved to the tracks.

Murdered? Dear Lord.

I'll need to familiarize
myself with the facility.

Head Matron Klotz will show you around.

The pantry, where we
store and prepare food.

The laundry, where we
teach how to wash clothes.

The Mercer philosophy is
redemption through domestic service.

Do any of your wards reject
this brand of redemption?

Yes. But not Jennifer.

She was obedient and docile,
a favourite among the matrons.

- And what of the inmates?
- They were cruel to her.

Just last week she was
viciously assaulted.

Miss Klotz? Who is this man?

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

- And you are?
- Doctor Almira Cotton. Head physician.

- I'm investigating the death of...
- Poor Jennifer. I heard.

It's terribly sad.

She was one of your patients?

These women are all my patients.

This isn't work for me,
Detective. It's a... Calling.

One to which I must now return.

Dr. Cotton?

I'll need to see the
clinical file on the deceased.

- Nurse Adelina, pull the file.
- Yes, Dr. Cotton.

You'll receive the file
on your way out, goodbye.

The sewing room.

Are all of the windows here
at the reformatory barred?

Yes.

Right, then. I'll need to see the roof.

The roof? Inmates don't
have access to the roof.

Miss Klotz.

Who smokes these cigarettes?

All the inmates smoke those.

Attention everyone!

I'm Detective William Murdoch
of the Toronto Constabulary.

I'm investigating the murder
of one of your fellow inmates,

a Miss Jennifer Drask.

We got no snitches here, Detective.

Least not now that Jennifer's gone.

Miss Dowson!

- I beg your pardon?
- Beg all you want.

I got nothing more to say
to you, nor do the others.

Have you made an arrest in the case?

Unfortunately, not yet.

Hm. It's a match.

It would seem Miss Drask did
indeed fall from the roof.

Fall?

Likely not of her own volition.

What's this?

May I use a scalpel?

An engagement ring.

And it's engraved with
the letters "E. E."

"E. E."

We do have an Edna Emerson in our care.

What led to her conviction?

Her father brought her before the judge

because she was pregnant and unmarried.

She was sent here for
being incorrigible, and...

Oh, dear.

Her stillborn child was
delivered here in the reformatory.

Oh. Um, I'd like to speak
with this Miss Emerson, please.

It has your initials on it.

I'm not the only E.E. in the world.

Anyways, we're not allowed
to have jewelry in here.

- This ring isn't mine.
- You're quite sure?

I would certainly know
if I had been engaged,

wouldn't I?

I came as soon as I
heard. What's this about?

This is about you, my darling.

I bought you a gift.

- Why?
- Because I love you.

Go on.

Oh!

You bought me another hat.

I did. But not that hat.

- You bought me a hat, but not this hat?
- Exactly.

But if you take that hat...

To this shop,

then you can exchange it
for any other hat you like.

I arranged it myself.

Really?

I've also arranged dinner reservations

at that fancy French
place that you like.

- Hm.
- So, go and pick yourself something nice

and we'll show it off all over town.

Thank you, Thomas.

I've yet to set foot
in the Plaza Theatre.

It's supposedly quite the
marvel, seats 900 spectators.

- 900, eh?
- Current show sounds promising,

Quebec's Queen of
Vaudeville, Eva Tanguay.

Jack?

Ah, could we turn down this way instead?

I spotted Clara's cousin over there.

I'd like to avoid her.

Also on the bill is Long Tack Sam,

a magician whose performance
is said to enchant.

I could use a bit of
enchantment, couldn't you?

I just can't stop wondering
how many of those 900 people

would tell Clara that
they've seen us together.

I owe it to her not
to incite gossip. Plus,

she finds vaudeville crude.

Well, let's not invite her.

Be kind, Lewellyn.

My marriage helps shield
you and I from scrutiny.

It's a flimsy shield if I can
never been seen with you, Jack.

Ah! Watts! Perfect
timing. Uh, this is...

What's your name again, sir?

Milo Strange.

- Detective Llewellyn Watts.
- Charmed.

Uh, what is this regarding?

Walt Whitman has been abducted.

Uh... Walt Whitman is dead.

Don't say that.

Walt Whitman. The poet?

Walt Whitman the peacock.

Someone has absconded with him.

- I'll leave you to it, then.
- But...

It's a bit of a head scratcher,

but I'm sure you'll crack it, Watts.

- You're smirking.
- I assure you I...

It's fine. I understand.

Mockery's a defense
deployed when a person

is confronted by nonconformity.

I'm sure you're familiar
with the experience.

- Nice jacket.
- Hm?

- Oh.
- Will you help me?

Thank you for breakfast,
Julia. What a surprise.

It's nice to have the time.

The perks of being unemployed.

Indeed.

Well, one thing is certain:

the inmates at that reformatory
will not speak with me.

I've heard the reformatory's
a dreadful institution.

The Mercer claims to provide the inmates

with the skills required to
integrate into the general populace.

Yes, but most of those
women have been imprisoned

for such atrocities as
disobeying their parents.

And fornication.

Or socializing with other races!

All things that men
can do with impunity.

I'm not surprised they won't
confide in a man with a badge.

Any idea how I could go about
getting them to trust me?

I suppose you could plant an
investigator amongst the prisoners,

someone that the women
would trust and confide in.

Intriguing proposal.

I wonder who I could get to do that?

Maggie Muldoon,

you have been sentenced to
the Andrew Mercer Reformatory

for an indeterminate period.

Welcome, Dr. Ogden.

So, what am I being convicted of?

Or, rather, what am I in for?

- It seems you are a pickpocket.
- Oh! Marvelous.

- Hello.
- No talking amongst inmates.

This is not a social club.

- Stop it.
- No talking in the halls, Miss Muldoon.

- Now look what you made me do!
- Silence!

What is going on here?

New girl has no respect,
slopping her filth all over.

You pushed me!

You must like it in the
hole, Queenie Dowson.

I lie there dreaming of you, Helga.

Guard, take Miss Dowson to the basement!

Don't trust this one, girls!
She's hiding something!

She really did push me.

No one likes a snitch, Muldoon.

Go fetch a mop.

Move!

This is how you sew the hem correctly.

See the stitches?

Evenly spaced and in a straight line.

- Fine work, Edna.
- Thank you, Miss Klotz.

And this is how you
sew the hem incorrectly.

See the blood? The mess...

I don't even know what to call this.

- If blasphemy was a textile.
- I'm so sorry, Miss Klotz.

I wish I had Edna's talent.

Perhaps she could show
me what I'm doing wrong.

Bleed on the cloth again and
you'll be scrubbing floors.

Edna, show her how to sew the hem.

Thank you.

So, how how do you?

Oh. Oh.

You make it look so easy.

Thank you.

I'm Maggie.

Queenie's gonna kill you
when she gets out of the hole.

This is where I saw him last,
scratching under the lilac.

Why Walt Whitman?

We share the same vocation.

As well as the same...

Inclinations.

You're a poet?

And I too "celebrate
myself and sing myself."

"And what I assume you shall assume."

"For every atom belonging to me... "

"As good belongs to you."

Whitman was a bit of a peacock
himself, don't you agree?

- Strange! Where are you?
- Who is that?

A brute whose soul contains
not one iota of peacock.

My neighbour, Burl Schlage.

I heard you've been making accusations.

Where is he, Burl?

I didn't take your dang
bird, you niminy-piminy fop.

It had to be you. You hate Walt Whitman.

- You've made that clear.
- Is that true?

Sure, I hate him.

Drives me mad with
his infernal squawking.

You see? What kind of
monster hates birdsong?

- Hm.
- Who's your little friend, Strange?

Oh.

Ah, thing is, Detective,
it ain't birdsong.

It's more like, "squaw, squaw, squaw."

Excuse me. This is a
criminal investigation.

You'd do well to take it seriously.

What makes you think
someone would take it?

Well, any birdbrain can see...

This latch don't hold.

I'm making no headway with Edna Emerson.

Or the other inmates, for that matter.

You need to make them
believe you are one of them.

I agree. But how?

Punch someone?

William.

I would prefer a less violent approach.

What if Maggie Muldoon
were to bring in contraband?

Edna.

Want a burner?

Put the fabric down, Muldoon.

I'm taking you off sewing duty. Come.

Try not to burn yourself.

Oh, don't get tangled up
with that one, Muldoon.

Queenie Dowson here spends
most of her days in the hole.

Shivering in the dark
like the vermin she is.

Not a word!

Or I'll send you right back down there.

It's no wonder your
family had you locked up.

You are wretched and shameless.

Unworthy, unloved and
undeserving of anything...

You!

Sorry. I think it
slipped out of my hand.

Next time, you get ten of those.

Back to work!

Winifred? Has anyone
seen Winifred Sanders?

- Hold.
- There you are.

Winnie, Dr. Cotton will see you now.

I don't wish to go,
Nurse Adelina. Please.

You can discuss it with the doctor.

You know she'll turn a deaf ear.

What's this about?

- I don't want to see the doctor.
- Not this again. Guard!

Take her to surgery.

Where are they taking her?

- She's getting snipped.
- Snipped?

Yeah. It's the doc's specialty.

She says it stops
incorrigibles from breeding.

That's barbaric.

The girl who died, did she get snipped?

Jennifer?

Yeah, but she didn't seem to mind.

Edna, how did Jennifer get your ring?

Who told you?

You know how people gossip.

Mm-hm.

Jennifer was my friend.

And when I ended things with
Leon, I gave the ring to her.

Too many memories.

I'm sorry.

Leon's an Indian.

Being with him is what got me
sent here in the first place,

mixing races and all.

I had to end it.

Move!

Psst. New girl.

Ah, Mrs. Hart, thank you
for the recommendation.

So, how's the postmortem going?

It's been challenging.

The trauma to her body complicates
the process tremendously.

Understood. What have you found so far?

She was a robust woman of 32.

The injuries from the train occurred

after Miss Drask had already died.

She was killed by the fall.

As we expected.

She also has a relatively
new surgical scar.

Her file from the Mercer mentions

she had a tubal ligation
while at the reformatory.

- Anything else?
- Yes.

There was an injection administered
here shortly before her death.

The toxicology analysis
shows she was heavily sedated.

So, she was drugged before
she fell off the roof.

Come look.

Nice view, huh?

And the fresh air is just...

How'd you get the door open?

One of the girls stole a key
from a guard. We pass it around.

Up here, you can almost
pretend you're free.

Is this where that girl fell?

Jennifer?

Yeah, probably.

I say good riddance.

She was a snitch and a teacher's pet.

Everyone hated her.

Edna said they were friends.

Some friend.

Should have heard Jennifer taunting
Edna about the baby she lost.

Edna was crying and
Jennifer wouldn't stop.

So, I socked her in the teeth.

When was that?

Day before she died.

I was locked up in the hole
when Jennifer went off the roof.

I asked Edna about it.

She said Jennifer got
what she had coming.

You will stand in the
corridor and maintain silence

while we perform inspections.

Exit your cells. Quickly now!

So, the toxicology
report found sedatives?

And yet none were recorded
in Miss Drask's medical file.

Well, apparently, the
other inmates despised her.

Perhaps one of them obtained the drugs?

I could try to search
the doctor's office.

Also, I found a love letter from
Edna's ex-fianc�, Leon Redbird.

She told me they'd broken up,
but the letter says otherwise.

If Miss Emerson pushed
Miss Drask off the roof,

then I suppose Mr. Redbird could
have moved her body to the tracks.

Leon Redbird?

- Yes?
- May I have a word?

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

I understand you know Miss Edna Emerson?

What happened? Is she okay?

Oh! Miss Emerson is fine.

I'm actually investigating
the death of another inmate,

a Miss Jennifer Drask?

Read the name in the papers.

No, never met her. It's a sad story.

Mr. Redbird?

Ah, no,

I'm worried about Edna
in that awful place.

Ah, yes. My sympathies.

However, I must ask, where
were you two nights ago?

Two nights ago.

I pulled an overnight unloading
a truckload of cabbages.

Can anyone confirm this?

Uh, the driver. He'll vouch for me.

- May I?
- You may.

Thank you.

A missing bird is not police business.

- But...
- The law can't help you, Mr. Strange.

But certainly someone would have noticed

a peacock wandering
the streets of Toronto.

I am positive he's been stolen.

Who on God's green earth
would want to steal a peacock?

The bloody bird likely just flew away.

And landed on your wife's head?

You don't like it?

It's exquisite.

I was on the brink of
concluding my report

and I found something quite unusual.

What is it?

Though Miss Drask had
a sterilization scar,

she had not, in fact, been sterilized.

A surgical scar but no surgery?

- Are you quite sure?
- Yes.

Her reproductive organs
are completely intact.

Then why the scar?

That's your domain.

Put your back into it, Muldoon.

Edna Emerson!

- I am thoroughly disappointed in you.
- No!

No, please! Please
don't put me in the hole!

Please don't put me in the hole!

You keep scrubbing 'til we come back.

How did you get in here?

Explain yourself.

I think I'm coming
down with the flu. I...

- I came to look for you, but the door was open.
- Lies.

- You're trying to steal from me!
- No.

But I am curious

why you're hiding all
this money in your office.

That is none of your concern.

I'll not be questioned
by an incorrigible.

You have no idea who I am.

Your impertinence is unacceptable.

Nurse, sedate this patient.

You will not!

Matron Klotz, restrain her.

Don't touch me.

You're nothing but an insolent wastrel.

I'm a surgeon.

- And a better one than you, I'd wager.
- Surgeon?

This one can't hem a tablecloth
let alone sew up a wound.

She is clearly delusional.

Gather your materials.

I prefer Holbein superfine needles,

- threaded with cat gut.
- The same kind you use, Dr. Cotton.

Quiet, Adelina.

Step Two: Sterilize your materials.

I hear you're a huge
sterilization enthusiast, Doctor.

Miss Muldoon, you are being disruptive.

My name is Dr. Julia Ogden,
and you're damn right I am.

Nurse Adelina, give her the injection!

Don't! Call the warden! He'll tell you.

- Give her the shot.
- No!

I'm sorry.

Let me out of here!

Let me out!

Just send the bill to my parents.

Of course, Miss Bowden.

- Is this your handiwork?
- Oh. It certainly is.

A beauty, isn't she? I
call her "The Penelope".

You should call her "The Walt Whitman."

Come again?

He knows his name!

How did you procure this peacock?

I bought it off a street urchin.

He claimed he had caught it in the wild.

Are you suggesting that
peacocks are native to Ontario?

I'm suggesting I bought
it fair and square.

Oh, come now. It's even
wearing the silver ankle band

upon which Mr. Strange
inscribed its name.

I don't care if he
dressed it in a ball gown

and called it Aunt Sally. It's mine now!

I paid three dollars for it.

Regardless of how it
came into your possession,

this peacock clearly
belongs to Mr. Strange.

It's all right, Detective.

I believe this nice woman's story.

And vengeance is not an
instinct I incline to indulge.

Tell you what:

make me one of your gorgeous
hats, using Whitman's feathers.

Name your price.

Add on the amount you paid
the child. I'll buy it.

But whatever you do,

I'm taking my peacock home.

I'm so sorry.

I don't agree with
throwing women in the hole.

There are a lot of things about
this place I don't agree with.

Is it true? You're a doctor?

Yes. I'm secretly
investigating the reformatory.

Really?

It's about time someone
exposed the conditions here.

Thank you for doing this.

Well, yes.

I think I've gathered enough
evidence to finish my report.

Do you think you could
get me out of here?

Follow me.

You don't have an
appointment with the Warden.

The warden has accepted
unscheduled visits in the past.

It should be no different
on this occasion.

Well, then it's a shame
the warden isn't here.

- On this occasion.
- Where might the Warden be?

Attending a family function in Kingston.

I am here on official police business.

I need to question one of your inmates,

a Maggie Muldoon.

That one. Always trouble.

You cannot see her. She is
undergoing corrective therapy.

- I beg your pardon?
- She's being disciplined.

- Sir!
- I warned you.

Julia!

Julia!

Julia!

William! Thank you, Adelina.

Oh, thank God. Are you all right?

I'm fine, William, but I do believe

- I'm ready to be sprung from this place.
- What have you found out?

Edna Emerson could not
have drugged Jennifer.

- The supplies are too well secured.
- Well, then who?

Dr. Cotton is acting very suspiciously.

She has a stack of money
hidden in her office,

which she most adamantly
does not wish to discuss

and when I confronted her on it, she...

She drugged me and put me in...

The hole.

I am appalled that you're taking
the word of this reprobate over...

It's in the drawer.

This reprobate is working
with the Toronto Constabulary.

That money has nothing to
do with your investigation.

Did Jennifer Drask bribe
you to stop the operation?

- What?
- Jennifer Drask's file indicates

you performed a sterilization procedure.

Yet, in our postmortem, we found
no evidence of such a surgery.

Did she threaten to expose you?

Is that why you killed her?

That's nonsense!

You gave Jennifer Drask a fake scar

in order to hide your corruption.

I'm sure Warden Burke
will be very interested

in your creative attention to detail.

All right. I took her money.

But I didn't kill Jennifer Drask.

The night she died, I
was dining at Chez Pierre.

Even if that is true,
you'll still be fired.

For what? I was just doing my job.

You were sterilizing
women against their will.

As mandated by the Mercer Reformatory,

an institution that values
my vision and expertise.

And what exactly is your vision?

A society unburdened
by the morally unfit.

I'll not stand idly by while

habitual criminals pollute
our world with their offspring.

I agree. The woman's
philosophies are despicable.

The entire system is despicable.

The entire system can wait.

Because right now I just need you
to solve this particular murder.

Well, how could
Jennifer have smuggled in

this money to pay off the doctor?

"Corktown Provisions."

Looks like you're going
shopping, me ol' mucker.

Mr. Redbird?

Mr. Redbird, stop!

Turn around.

Please, don't take him away.

You didn't tell me your
and Edna's son survived.

Well, you didn't ask.

So, it's not exactly a lie.

But I did lie about Jennifer Drask.

So, you knew her?

She was blackmailing Edna.

She said if Children's Aid

found out that our son was alive,

they'd take him away.

So, you paid her?

What would you do if it was your boy?

First Jennifer took Edna's ring.

Then she took all the money we had.

We gave her everything
to protect Charlie.

But we had nothing to do with her death.

You checked my alibi.

Please, just let me take my son home.

Thank you for your time, Mr. Redbird.

Mm-hm.

We'll contact you if we
have any further questions.

All right.

Come on, Charlie.

Let's go home.

So, the money Jennifer Drask
used to bribe Dr. Cotton

was in fact Leon Redbird's savings.

Miss Drask had been
blackmailing Edna Emerson

by threatening to expose the
fact that her son had survived.

Blackmail gives Emerson
a motive to kill Drask.

But Edna didn't have
access to the syringe

or the sedatives that were
found in Jennifer's system.

Nor could she have carried
the body to the tracks.

And Leon Redbird had an alibi,

so he couldn't have done it, either.

I'm just stunned that Edna managed to...

smuggle her baby out of that dungeon.

She must have had help.

Anyone who helped her could
be another potential target

of Jennifer Drask's extortion.

Someone had to have signed
the baby's death certificate.

Let's have a look at
Edna's medical file.

And here it is. Stillbirth.

Signed by Adelina DiMartino.

The nurse.

You see how happy he is?

How does one determine
whether a peacock is happy?

By his strut.

So, I suppose our adventure ends here.

Oh, it doesn't have to.

- Oh!
- I hope you will attend.

Huh.

Thank you for taking me
seriously, Detective Watts.

And thank you for granting me

a reprieve from
seriousness, Mr. Strange.

Oh! Fix your latch.

All right.

I can't find Adelina anywhere.

I have looked upstairs, downstairs,

the kitchen, the sewing
room, the laundry.

I have searched absolutely everywhere!

Julia?

The roof.

Adelina!

Miss DiMartino, step away from the edge.

It's all my fault, you know.

The death of Miss Drask?

She fell right here.

I heard her head hit the ground.

Crack!

I still hear it over and over.

If Jennifer fell, it is not your fault.

Yes, it is.

She wanted money to keep
quiet about Edna's baby.

We came here to talk.

She started yelling her demands

and I gave her a shot to calm her down.

She lost her balance.

She fell right here. I heard
her head hit the ground.

Crack.

Please, Adelina, just
take one step down.

This place is evil and nobody cares.

I care!

And I'll do everything in my
power to see that you receive

the most lenient sentence possible.

Everything in your power.

What power do you have?

Not as much as I'd like sometimes,

but, please, Adelina,

I do believe that women
can change the world.

But first we have to
start trusting each other.

Please!

Are you all right?

I just wanted to help those women.

You did.

With every small gesture of
compassion you offered them.

I wanted to show you something.

I recruited a lawyer friend of mine.

We lodged an emergency petition.

With my testimony,

we believe we can secure Edna's release

and have her reunited with her family.

Maybe you do really have power.

It's not just my doing.

You helped to keep that family together.

I suppose I'm going to jail now.

Thank you, Dr. Ogden.

But what about the others?

Who will speak for all the
other incorrigible women?

It's a small gathering, informal,

and it sounds like a lot of fun.

You remember fun, don't you?

I can't. I have family obligations.

You're a married man, Jack, you
will always have family obligations.

- I'm just asking for two hours with you.
- I'm sorry.

I'm late. Clara's made a pot roast.

You'd choose boiled cow flesh over me?

Thomas?

- You look beautiful.
- Thank you.

You've had your coat cleaned.

- Want to look the bee's knees for my best girl.
- Oh.

I know what you're doing, Thomas.

You don't have to fuss over me.

Anything I can do to put a smile
on my wife's face is no fuss at all.

I can't do it.

I can't pretend to be happy

when every hour of every day

I'm driven mad by the thought,

where's our son?

Where's Bobby?

What did the men you've
hired been telling you?

They found him. In Winnipeg.

What?

Bobby's in Winnipeg?

He was.

He got wind that I was looking for him.

He ran off again.

Why did he run?

Margaret,

Bobby's life is his own

to salvage or destroy.

There's nothing we can do about it.

We could help him.

No we can't.

Not unless he wants it.

No. No.

It's the truth. I'm so sorry, Margaret.

No. No.

Thank you all for coming.

May this night transport us

from this coarse and weary world

and show us a place
where we are limitless.

My name is Milo Strange.

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -