All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - S07E17 (EN)

Ripped By mstoll

Never! It's your fault!

Look at my automobile!

You call this progress?

Yes, it's called progress.

Get with the times, old man.

Who's gonna pay to fix this?

Who's gonna pay
for my carriage? Disgraceful.

Disgraceful?

The blinders are for the horse,
not you!

As if you could see
anything with all that smoke.

Horses should be plowing
fields, not on the road!

You shouldn't be
on the road in that damn thing.

I had the right of way.

Never you did!
You almost killed my horse!

- You've ruined my machine!
- Officer!

- Officer!
- Gentlemen, not now.

- Not now.
- Officer! This man...

Excuse us. Police.

Excuse me. Pardon me.
Coming through.

Toronto Constabulary.

Toronto Constabulary!

- Does that mean anything?
- Please.

- Move out of the way.
- Toronto Constabulary!

Make way. Make way.

Excuse me, sir.
May I?

Good lord.

Sir, what do we do?

Well, for a start,
shut down the church.

Ladies, again, if you could just
keep your voices down.

Gentlemen, gentlemen.
Lads, lads. Settle down.

Tell him it's imperative

that we keep the noise level
to a minimum while we're here.

- Excuse me. Excuse me.
- Sir, is that clear?

You there!

Sir, your voice.

What is that loopy bastard
doing?

I don't think he's up there
on his own accord, sir.

- I need you to lay charges.
- I need you to...

My motor's destroyed!

I want you to keep
your voice down, sir.

We can't deal with that.
We're very busy right now.

- Everybody, just please...
- Move! Move!

Sir? Are you all right?

Do I look all right to you?

Get me off this damned thing.

I intend to.

Do you have any idea
what that is?

No. Just get me down.

Sir...

When they get louder,
the thing inside vibrates.

Stop looking at it,
and get me down!

- Um...
- Can you hear me?!

Sir, I would advise you
to keep your voice down.

Why?

Because...

...I believe the bomb strapped
to your chest may go off

if the sound around it
gets too loud.

You realize there are
six working factories

in this neighborhood.

Unfortunately, yes.

Where are you going?

I'm going to help you.

Be quick about it!

Sir...

for your own sake and for mine,
please keep your voice down.

Sir?

Devil of a predicament.

Indeed.

Chap's name is Richard Welsh.

Sole proprietor
of Welsh Machine Works.

Turns up at work every morning
at the crack of dawn,

except today.

His lead foreman found this
in his stead.

"You are to cease
all operations immediately."

Written in Mr. Welsh's own hand.

- Who confirmed this?
- She did.

His wife?

Very attractive.

But can talk the hind leg
off a donkey.

Mrs. Welsh.

I'm Detective William Mur...
- I know. I read the papers.

What is going on, and who
is doing this to my husband?

Um, I don't know.

But you intend to find out?

Yes, ma'am.

- When?
- Mrs. Welsh...

And why aren't you
getting him down?

The device that's up there
with him, I believe,

is triggered by sound.

If I tamper with it in any way,
it might...

What? Blow him up?

Yes, ma'am.

Do you even know
if that bomb is real?

Well, I think
for your husband's sake,

we should assume that it is.

Um, do you have any idea who
might want to do this to him?

No one would want to do this
to my husband.

He is a good man who is lifting
all around him out of poverty.

Help him.

Well, if your husband

is so important
to all of these people,

I would suggest you ask them
to keep quiet.

Lovely lady.

What you are asking
is ridiculous.

On the surface.

More than just on the surface.

You want me to
shut the city down.

Not the entire city.
Just a part of it.

Its heartbeat.

Sound will detonate the bomb.

Today being the Lord's day,
it's quiet. But tomorrow...

Every factory,

all construction,
all civic improvements...

You want me to shut
all those things down?

Sir, a man's life is at risk.

If we didn't think extraordinary
measures were necessary,

we wouldn't be asking you this.

I'll do what I can.
But only because I-I trust you.

Mr. Mayor, this is going to be
very unpopular.

Mr. Welsh helped get me elected.

We can at least give him
one day.

One day?

William.

Julia.
Thank you for coming.

You wanted to see me?
About something important?

Yes, Julia.

- I was hoping that you would...
- Yes.

But I haven't finished yet.

Yes, of course.

Go on.

I-I was wondering

if you might be able to shed
some light on something for me.

Oh.

Of course.

What is it, William?

A man has been strapped
to the top of a telephone pole

with a bomb attached to him.

Goodness.

Yes. Whoever is responsible

seems to have a strong objection
to this man's factory.

- He wants it shut down.
- A disgruntled worker?

Yes, but I-I think
it may be more than that.

You see, the man has attached
a note to the bomb

saying that it will detonate

if there is any sound
in the vicinity

greater than the toll
of St. Andrew's bell.

Is such a thing possible?

I intend to find out.

What would you like me to do?

I was wondering if you could put
together a personality profile

of whoever could be responsible
for this.

Perhaps check the Asylum records
for anyone who's been admitted

for having a strong aversion
to auditory stimuli.

Yes, certainly.

And was there anything else
that you wanted?

Perhaps you could be quite quick
about it.

Yes. Of course.

Look at these ghouls,

idling about,
hoping they get to see

my husband
blown into a million pieces.

Perhaps they're just concerned.

Concerned?
These two are taking bets.

How long
has your husband's factory

been operating at this location?

Six months now.
And why are you asking me this?

Just get him down.

As I told you, ma'am, any
attempt from me to take him down

may result in him blowing up.

This must have been a quiet ward

before your husband
opened this factory.

Quiet and poor.

Look at it now.

It's bustling with the sounds
of business and opportunity.

Was everyone happy
your husband built this factory?

Everyone who wanted to put food
in their children's bellies.

Mrs. Welsh, please.
I need your help.

There were a few malcontents,
but they're fools.

Woolly-headed intellectuals.

Their names?

They call themselves
the New Agrarians.

Was the detective
speaking to you?!

And what a ridiculous name.

How can agrarianism be new?
Industrialization is new.

Urbanization is an abomination

antithetical
to the human condition.

Progress is part of evolution.

Urbanization is not progress.

Some would argue otherwise.

Of course they would.

And those "some" are monsters
like Mr. Welsh

and all the rest of the
industrialists and developers

who are destroying Toronto.

So you consider Mr. Welsh
a monster?

Men like him
don't care about people.

They're all servants of Moloch.

Would it be safe to say you
are enjoying his predicament?

Of course I'm not.

But I can't say I'm unhappy
his factory is quiet.

And who else
is pleased with this?

Everyone I know.

Miss Cunnyworth,

if anyone in your organization
is capable of more than rhetoric

you would be well advised
to tell me.

We're a peaceful organization.

Well, then, if that's the case,
you will help me.

Please.

A man's life hangs
in the balance.

There is one man, a new member.

His name is Travis McGuire.

He once worked
with the monsters.

He told me that toiling
in machine work

was like being
in the pits of Hades.

Sir!

Sir. Sir.

I have to ask you
to not do that right now.

Look, I don't care
if it's the Lord's day.

I have to make a living.

It's got nothing to do
with the Lord's day.

There is a noise restriction
on the entire area.

That's bloody ridiculous.

Well, that's the way it is, sir.
You can either pack this up now

or come down
to the station house with me.

Well, how long
is the restriction?

As long as the Constabulary
deems necessary.

So, in the meantime,
you'll feed my family?

Sir, I-I promise you,
we're working as fast as we can.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you
for your understanding.

Dr. Grace.

Hello.

What can I do for you?

I wanted to talk to you
for a moment, George.

Right.

I was a fool.
I made a dreadful mistake.

I was momentarily distracted
by Mr. Garland's charms.

I never realized
he was such a cad, and...

I'm so sorry.

I see.

So, you understand?

I understand.

I understand that

if Leslie Garland hadn't
turned out to be such a cad

you'd still be with him,
rather than me.

George, I didn't mean
for it to come out like that.

Well, it came out like that.

So, you've made no progress?

We're investigating
a number of leads.

But nothing that
could be construed as progress?

- Well...
- Mr. Mayor,

to be fair,
we've only just begun.

Then letting you begin
may have been a mistake.

Sir?

This city cannot exist
in stasis.

This is the 20th century.

What are you suggesting?

Business must return to normal.

At the expense of a man's life?

I am not going to be able
to keep the factories shut down.

The wheels of industry
must continue to turn.

Well, stop them.

I daresay I can't.

There are
at least three companies

who are threatening
to defy my orders.

Then I'll bloody arrest them.

No.

What the devil is he doing?

You can't run the siren.

We always run the siren.
We're on the way to a fire.

Please do it quietly.

Okay, let's go.

This isn't going to work.

We just need a bit more time,
Mr. Mayor.

I'll see what I can do.

But the city
is a living, breathing thing.

I can't kill it.

- He's right.
- I know.

A stray train whistle,
a ship's horn, anything...

So we need to find the bomber.

Or disarm the bomb.

You work on the machine.
I'll work on the people.

So, Mr. McGuire...

Take your hat off.

How long have you been a member
of the New Agrarians?

A few months.

And how long have you had it in
for Mr. Welsh?

I don't "have it in" for him.

Don't lie to me.

I'm not.

Then what exactly is this?

I have nothing
against the man in question.

Just his business.

You tried to blow it up.

I was attempting to dissuade him

from setting up shop
in the middle of the city,

- right where people live.
- Dissuade him?

With two sticks of dynamite?

It didn't work.

But I certainly have
nothing to do

with the circumstance
he finds himself in now.

You find this amusing?

Is anyone else in your group
capable?

Of a bomb triggered by sound?
No, I very much doubt that.

- Anyone in the ward?
- No one liked him.

- Or his wife.
- And why's that?

They thought because they owned
that belching factory

that they were royalty.

They were providing
a living wage

to the working man of Toronto.

They're doing no one
in this city any favors.

Human beings are not capable of
living under such circumstances.

Noise, overcrowding, foul air...

They're turning us
into uncivil beasts.

Just like the type
who would try to blow up

a man's business
and his livelihood?

I call that
working for the greater good.

Why did you do that?

Because you're a bloody fool.

Sir, I have a theory.

What's that, George?

I think this might be the work

of one
of Mr. Welsh's competitors.

Lads, lads...

You know, businessmen
can be quite vicious.

Possibly,
but I'm not entirely convinced

that this is an attack
on Mr. Welsh himself

but, rather, what he represents.

What he represents?

Progress.

Well, who would be
against progress?

Sir, do you notice that?

What?

Peace and quiet.

It's like a blast of silence.

It's quite enjoyable, I think.

Hmm.

What's going on?

Sir, have you been watching
the device?

Only every damn second.

And every time they stir...

...the damned thing
starts to move.

I just want to...
get back to work.

The diaphragm appears to be
the key.

- If it vibrates too much...
- I blow up.

I understand that.

The question is,

what are you gonna do
to make that not the case?

Get this thing off me.

Sir, I'm afraid I can't.

If I disconnect
the wrong wire...

Don't say it.

Sir, what about a blanket?

A blanket?

Yes, we'll bring a heavy blanket
up to you on a crane.

If we wrap it around,
it may dampen the sound.

George, the sound
of an industrial crane

too near the device
may set it off.

Well, a balloon, then?

A-A balloon?

Yes, sir. We float a balloon
over top of him

and drop the blanket from above.

George, anything near this man,

anything falling
over top of the diaphragm

would be far louder than a
church bell tolling a mile way.

Will you two stop blathering
and get this thing off me?!

We're gonna need
to quiet these people down.

Sir...

...I'm afraid that any attempt
to get you down

might trigger the device.

Then find the bastard
who strapped it to me.

Are you sure
that you have no idea...

If I did, don't you think
I damn well would have told you?

Why aren't you doing anything?

Ma'am, as long as it's quiet,
he's in no immediate danger.

No danger?!

He's stuck atop a pole
with a bomb strapped to him!

Ma'am,
please keep your voice down.

You don't want to be the one
to set it off, now, would you?

Although, sir, I doubt her voice

- is loud enough...
- Yes, George, I know that,

you know that, but
we don't need her to know that.

Sir, Mr. Welsh
has enemies on all sides.

Sir, Mr. Welsh
has enemies on all sides.

Even the other industrialists
are upset with him

because he pays his employees
higher wages.

Could any of them
have done this?

Well, we're talking to them,
but nothing so far.

Family members?

Despite his abrupt attitude,
he seems very well liked.

What of this Travis McGuire?

Sir, the Agrarians...

They just seem like harmless
country people, artists.

Bad news, Murdoch.

Just received word
from the mayor's office.

He's gonna reopen the factories.

He's signing
Mr. Welsh's death warrant.

I explained that to him, but
he's under a lot of pressure.

A missed day of business
is worth a man's life?

The mayor seems
to have convinced himself

that this
is nothing more than a hoax.

That's a possibility, sir,
but...

But if it isn't, Mr. Welsh...

When is the mayor
going to lift the moratorium?

Noon today.

Three hours to find
the person responsible for this?

I know.

Where are you going?

To disarm the bomb.

Gentlemen.

Well, come on, then, Crabtree.
Get a move on.

Are you sure you can do this,
Murdoch?

Of course I can, sir.
I've known how to for years.

So, what happens
when you get to the top?

I'm going to try
to defuse the bomb.

I'm not having my best man
get blown to...

Sir, I wouldn't be your best man
if I didn't at least try.

That's well put, sir.
You can't argue with that.

I hope we're far enough away
from that thing.

I've been blown up before,
you know.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

- Hey!
- Sir!

What's going on?

Sir, could you stop the engine?

I will not.
I need to pass.

Sir, get out of the automobile.

I will not.

Now, sir, remember, the sounds
you make will increase in volume

the closer you get
to the device itself.

Thank you, George.

What is he doing?

Getting your husband down.

Why didn't he think of that
in the first place?

He said
if the area remains quiet...

The mayor is letting the
factories start up, isn't he?

That bastard!

My Richard
as much as put him in office!

Ma'am, quiet down.

It's about time. Hurry!

Sir, turn this around
and go the other direction.

- Step aside.
- Get out of the automobile.

Step aside!

- Sir...
- Sir...

- I said move.
- Sir, don't you...

- Move!
- Sir. Sir...

- Stop!
- No.

You can't go that way!

Stop! Stop now!

Hurry!
Get this damn thing off me!

- Get back here!
- Stop the car!

- Sir!
- Stop!

- Get back!
- Stop the car!

- Sir!
- Stop!

Stop right now!

- Sir!
- Jump!

You all right?

Mrs. Welsh...

I am so sorry.

That car backfire
could not have been predicted...

Don't.
It hardly would have mattered.

Don't you hear that?

My husband's friends...
would have killed him, anyway.

Couldn't even wait a day.

My husband's blood.

We know that sound dissipates

the further it travels
from its source.

So the man bothered by the
factory must have lived nearby.

Exactly.
Only residents of Cabbagetown

would have been
directly affected by the noise.

As much as we are being tortured
by that damn thing outside.

Gentlemen.

Julia.

I found very few cases of people
who have acted violently

when overly stimulated by sound.

And those that were, they
didn't try to stop the source.

They simply retreated.

- Became hermits.
- Exactly.

So you found
nothing that could assist us?

I'm afraid not, William. This
is clearly an irrational act.

But the Asylum has no record
of anyone with any such malady.

Inspector Thomas Brackenreid.

We'll be there right away, sir.

The deputy mayor
wants to speak to us.

I'll get my coat.

What a bloody racket.

Almost wish the poor sod
was still on top of the pole.

Yes, Doctor?

I was wondering, has William
been acting oddly lately?

Oddly?

I'm just wondering
if he'd said anything to you?

About?

Oh, nothing, Inspector.
I'm sorry to have bothered you.

Murdoch keeps his own counsel,
Doctor. You should know that.

Yes. I know all too well.

Jackson, stop shaking the box.
It's a bomb.

It already blowed up, Henry.

"Blew up," Jackson.

Why does Detective Murdoch
want this rubbish, anyways?

Well, he's going to reconstruct
the device,

hoping it will lend some clues
as to its maker.

It's just junk, though.

Higgins,
you of all people should know

Detective Murdoch can see things
where no mere mortal can.

I saw Dr. Grace today, George.

Did you, now?

She was by the station,
waiting for you to come in.

I think it's over
between she and I, Henry.

You sure about that, George?

She's a fine woman...
educated, too.

Yes, I know that, Jackson.

I'm also know that, in due time,

she'll... find some other chap
who's more on her...

Don't sell yourself short,
George.

I'm not. I... I know who I am,
and I'm content with that.

- So... you're through, then?
- Yes, we're through, Henry.

Can we just focus
on the job at hand?

- Oh, Lord.
- What?

Ohh.

And he said nothing about it?

Not a thing.
I thought that when he said

that he had something important
to ask me

that he meant a proposal.

Instead,
it was assistance with a case.

He might have cold feet.

I could see that, considering
the last time he tried.

You had reason.

I know. But there's no reason
not to now.

William Murdoch
and George Crabtree

will be the death of us.

Have you talked to him?

Yes. But every time I do,
I put my foot in it.

I should be going.

Don't give up, Emily.

George Crabtree is as fine a man
as ever walked the earth.

Hello?

Hello, Julia.

Father?

Whoa!

We're not moving.

The streets are getting busier
and busier, sir.

Because they're always
bloody tearing them up.

I told you. We should have taken
a bicycle, sir.

Only a fool would ride a bicycle

on a street full of wagons,
streetcars, and damn motorcars.

We'll walk.

Thank you.

I've instructed all businesses

to cease operations.

And I've told all churches
to cease ringing their bells.

And they've agreed to comply?

For now. But, Inspector,
we can't have the mayor be

this fiend's next victim.

We'll do what we can.

That wasn't quite enough
for poor Mr. Welsh, was it?

Clever.

Mr. Mayor.

It's all right.
We can speak.

Could you do something?

Yes, sir. Did you get a look
at who did this to you?

He wore a mask. He was
a man of unremarkable stature.

That's all.

Please, get me out of this.

We will, Mr. Mayor.

Where are you going?

To solve this, sir.

It's much quieter here
than Cabbagetown,

but the risk
is still considerable.

Another car backfiring,
a baby crying...

And we'll be looking
at another damned election.

You're gonna be all right,
Mr. Mayor.

Just get this damn hat off me.

Jackson?
Have a look at this.

- What am I looking at?
- Well, it's a threat.

Directed to Mr. Welsh.
From a Bradley Fowler.

- Want to bring him in?
- I do.

Where's Higgins?

He stepped out
to grab a bite of pizza pie.

Said he was famished.

- Hollow leg on that one.
- Matches the head.

Dr. Grace.

Constable Higgins.
What can I do for you?

Well, I was... wondering
how you were faring.

Well enough, thank you.

I see.

Well, what is it, Constable?
I'm... quite busy.

Oh. Yes. Uh...

Well, I was wondering
if you would care to join me

at the Agricultural Fair
this Saturday?

You and I?

Well, I was under the impression

that George had recently
broken things off with you.

So I thought perhaps...

Are you being
deliberately cruel?

No. I...

Did George put you up to this?

No.

My invitation was sincere.

I'm...
sorry to have troubled you.

Henry, I'm sorry.

And you think
you can reconstruct this?

Well, sir, I have to try.

To what end?

Well, perhaps I can figure out
how to disarm the new bomb

or where the parts came from.

It might yield a clue
as to the identity of...

Sirs?

- What is it, Crabtree?
- Sorry for the interruption.

Jackson and I just brought in
a Bradley Fowler.

He was a competitor
of Mr. Welsh's.

I found a rather threatening
note in Mr. Welsh's effects.

- A note? Is that it?
- No, sir.

I took the liberty of going
through Fowler's employee list.

At one point,

he had a Travis McGuire
working for him.

Wasn't he the bloke who tried to
blow up Welsh's building?

The very one, sir. I'll have
Jackson bring him in next.

I'll have a go at this Fowler.

Uh... a light one, sir.

He doesn't appear to be
a common street thug.

Murdoch, you stick
to what you do best. As will I.

Just tell me the truth.

I didn't do anything
to Mr. Welsh.

You threatened him.

He upped an offer

on a building I was in the midst
of purchasing.

I was angry. And that was years
ago... water under the bridge.

And you had to move your factory
quite a distance away?

I did. And everything costs more
because of it.

You're in the same business,
aren't you?

Machine parts, yes.
Mostly marine parts and...

And Welsh pays his workers
double?

You lost three of your
most skilled mechanics to him.

Yeah. He's paying them
like they're damned lawyers.

And now he isn't.
And you'll have them back.

Bring him in.

Nice to see you again.

Do you know this man?

I've never seen him before
in my life.

Don't bloody lie to me!

I'll ask you again.
Do you know him?

He worked for me once.

Before or after
he tried to blow up

- Welsh's building?
- I had nothing to do with that.

Is he lying?

You better think on your answer,
sunshine...

because I'm seriously looking
at you two

for the murder
of Mr. Richard Welsh.

Murder? That's ridiculous.

Look at me!

Don't listen to him.
Tell me the truth.

Yeah, he paid me
to blow up the building.

He's lying.

But I had nothing to do
with the present bomb. I swear.

I wouldn't pay that fool $50
to do anything.

On my mother's grave,
he paid me exactly $50

to try to blow up
Mr. Welsh's factory.

For "the greater good," is it?

Unless you're prepared
to furnish some form of proof

of my involvement in Mr. Welsh's
death, I'm leaving.

You lay a hand on me, I'll have
you before a court of law.

Sir!

Henry, please...

What is it?

You're needed, sir.

And please, no matter what,
no applause.

Or loud noises.

Mr. Mayor.

My fellow ratepayers,

I have always respected you,
your wishes, and your desires.

With that in mind, I have made
a... most difficult decision.

At 6:00 this evening,

the city hall clock tower
will ring true and strong.

And not just any clock

but every factory and church
in the city

will serenade you with the sound
of progress and industry.

Please, let's not rush
the inevitable, shall we?

You have to stop him.

The mayor is a stubborn man.

He will die.

And they will build a statue
to him.

I think
it's all he really wants.

...cannot stay
the wheels of progress

or starve
the engine of prosperity.

And so, my fellow ratepayers,

at 6:00 this evening,
I will be no more.

But you and this great city
will live on.

My death will convince
this fiend

that he cannot push back
the power of the 20th century

or stymie the men who will lead
humanity into a brave new world.

Now I ask you
to please disperse.

Let me spend my few remaining
hours... with my family.

Mr. Mayor, this isn't necessary.

It is, Detective.
You as much as said so yourself.

With every steam whistle
too loud,

every child with colic,
this device explodes.

- But, sir...
- I've decided, Detective.

I'm going to sacrifice my life
so this city can prosper.

Now, go.

Jackson, ensure that this crowd
stays a safe distance back.

We know from before
the approximate blast radius.

And how much is that, sir?

Well, I would prefer
they weren't here at all,

but 20 feet should do it.

Shall we get them to disperse?

Just keep them back.

Oh, and, uh...

...move them when necessary.

Yes, sir.

George.

I'm heading back
to the Station House.

- You're in charge here.
- Sir.

You're certain you can't make
the mayor reconsider?

His mind's made up.

The mayor may not be
the sharpest tack in the drawer,

but when his mind is made up...

And I suppose you'll assume
the mantle of leadership?

But not the way I wanted.

What about Mr. Fowler?

Nothing strong enough
to hold him.

So you don't think that...

Doesn't look like
he had anything to do with it.

Henry.
What are you doing?

- Get away from there.
- But, sir...

Go down to city hall
and help Constable Crabtree.

- Sir, wait.
- What is it?

I know
where these parts are from.

- Oh.
- It's a piano, sir.

This... This here is piano wire,

and this is, well,
what's left of a damper.

What about these?

Those are piano tuning screws.

Excellent work, Henry.

My family owned a piano shop,
sir.

I was never really any good
at playing the damned thing,

I suppose,
but I'm pretty well acquainted

with the various
parts and inner workings...

Henry, what time is it?

It's 4:00, sir.

Good work.

Perhaps, sir, I'm not
just a mere mortal, as well.

Right.

Excuse me. Police.

Hello?

Toronto Constabulary.

Hello?!

What do you want?

I said, what do you want?
We're closed.

I'm looking for a Mr. Pike.

Are you his wife?
You own this place?

My husband and I.

I'd very much like to speak
with him.

You and me both.

You don't know where he is?

I threw him out.

Weeks ago now.

I need to find him.

Well, if you do,
tell him to go to hell.

Mrs. Pike, why did you
throw your husband out?

He wasn't any good.

He was mad.

Mad as a damn hatter.

He'd rant and rail.

Damn the noises around him
to high heavens.

Ma'am, it's very important
that I find him.

Please.
A man's life is at stake.

A man?

What man?

I thought he was blown up.

Hell of a commotion.

Yes, yes.

Well, a different man.
The mayor.

I knew it.

Oh, Jesus.

He was smarter than I thought.

That's what he was tinkering on?
He built the bomb, didn't he?

You wouldn't think
he'd had it in him.

Ma'am, please.
I need to find your husband.

His name is Wallace,
and he used to be a good man

before the noise of the city
made him mad.

So he built a bomb.

Mad as a hatter.

Enough, ma'am. Please,
I need to find your husband.

- Get your hands off me.
- Please.

Let me go.

Avery's Bridge.

Try that.

Sometimes I'd find him hiding
under there like a hermit.

Ladies, please.

Sir, I hope you're not betting.

Excuse me. Uh...

Fine.

Could be my imagination,
but are there more people here?

Must have missed
the first explosion.

Hey, George, if you want
my opinion regarding Dr. Grace,

she seems like a fine woman...

She's a fine woman, Jackson, but
I was batting out of my league.

The relationship was always
destined to end poorly.

George, you don't really believe
that, do you...

That's enough, now. My affairs,
or lack thereof, with Dr. Grace

is my own business.

It's done.
I'm done talking about it.

Sorry, George.

Wallace Pike?

Toronto Constabulary.

It's quiet here, isn't it?

Like the way
the world should be.

Yes, it is.

Isn't this...
what the world should be?

Mr. Pike, I need your help.

I-I don't want
an innocent man to die.

Then turn off the factories,
turn off the cars...

I can't.

And at 6:00 today, the world
as it is will start up again.

But the mayor...

You can't stop a city.

I'm sorry, but you just can't...
You can't win.

But you can save
an innocent man's life.

I just want everything
to go back to the way it was.

Those days are gone.

Don't let
another innocent man die.

Please.

I love you.

It's time to go.
Ma'am.

People, I advise you
to stand back.

We need you to stand back now.

Look out.
Police coming through.

You have two minutes, Mr. Pike.

It won't take long.

Thank you.

Be quiet.

It's done.

Mr. Mayor.

Thank you, Mr. Pike.

Mr. Pike!

I want silence.

No!

Julia.

What brings you here?

I'm off to visit my father.
He called me out of the blue.

Oh. How long has it been?

Years.
But he wants to see me.

I don't suppose
that you could accompany me?

It would be lovely
for you two to meet,

and perhaps there's something
that you would like to ask him.

Julia, I couldn't possibly.

I have a reception
at the mayor's office,

and my attendance is mandated.

Safe journey.

Constable Crabtree.

Ah. Dr. Ogden.

I hope I'm not
overstepping my boundaries,

but I spoke with Dr. Grace.

I know that she's very sorry.

I appreciate that. I just... I-I
really don't want to discuss it.

She's a good woman, George,

and one certainly deserving
of a second chance.

Well, I think
in breaking things off with her

I've given her just that.

But I really do appreciate that,
Doctor. Thank you.

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