All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S05E08 - Stroll on the Wild Side (2) (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

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[suspenseful music]

♪♪

You found what you were
looking for, Mr. Faber?

Thank you for pointing me

in the right direction,
Miss Messing.

[muffled scream]

Anna, what the devil
are you doing here?

Hello, William.

What if the Black Hand
finds you?

I'm investigating
the disappearance

of Lucille Messing.

You should talk to her fiancé,
Geoffrey Coville.

He was so superior.

You enjoy wallowing in filth,
don't you?

I don't know much about her,
but the man she took off with,

name of Carling.

I would suggest that
there is more to your librarian

than meets the eye.

Both notes were written
in the same hand.

Perhaps someone was
directing Lucille to the book.

Devil... Drum.

If contraception
were not illegal,

families could make
those decisions for themselves.

You mean women could.

I suppose I do.

Your wife
is a very spirited woman.

Yes, Julia is wonderful

and not shy
about expressing her opinions.

William, what if
the Black Hand has found me

and killed Lucille by mistake?

Hello, Miss Fulford.

[panting]

Please.

[gun cocks back]

Please, no.

[gunshot]

[grunts]

William.

Are you all right?

William, is everything...

Yes, I'm...

I'm just glad
you're all right.

The shot was clean
and effective.

Doctor, if I may.

I'm sorry, sir.

I've never...

If you could please
return this to the armory.

I thought the library
was empty.

He just came out of nowhere.

First strangulation
and now a gun.

Our library killer
was becoming bolder.

This isn't the man
that threatened me.

Just a moment, Doctor.

This isn't the man
I spotted in the tavern.

Are you quite sure?

I swear.

That means there were at least
two of them watching you.

Anna, you are no longer safe
in this city.

This is a brilliant invention.

Well, it used to be a series
of likenesses,

but this seems
somewhat more efficient.

William, this is him.

This is the man that I saw
in The Devil's Drum,

the same one that I talked to
in the library.

I thought it was the colic,
but he's not getting better.

Let's see what's
bothering you, young Arthur.

How are you feeling,
Mrs. Blackwood?

You look tired.

To tell you the truth,
Doctor,

I think I'm with child again.

Mrs. Blackwood.

I thought it couldn't happen

while an infant's
still suckling.

Unfortunately,
breastfeeding

is not a completely
reliable form of contraception.

Tell that to my husband.

I wish I could.

Doctor, I'm worn to the bone.

How much can a body take?

Mrs. Blackwood,
you're strong.

Constable Crabtree, hello.

Dr. Grace.

I'm afraid Detective Murdoch
has gone home for the day.

Then I will leave this report
with you.

Excellent.

As you may have heard,
we are to play Station 5

in a game of baseball
this Saturday.

Uh, if you're not busy, maybe
you'd like to come by and watch

or cheer us on,
as it were.

It's sure to be a good matchup,

and they've made me pitcher.

The pitcher?

That's quite the responsibility.

Inspector Brackenreid
seems to think

I'm something
of a natural talent.

Well,
perhaps I will come along

and see this talent for myself.

Mr. Sato.

Detective.

Have you changed your mind
about engaging my services?

Thank you, no.

But I wondered if perhaps you
had ever seen

this man before.

A hot gin, please.

Are you awaiting an escort?

I'll find one.

I don't know him.

I see.

Thank you.

Perhaps you'd care to join me,
Sir.

I'd be delighted, madam.

And for you, sir?

I'll have a spruce beer.

A spruce beer?

Uh, yes.

Something I developed a taste
for growing up in Nova Scotia.

Oh, I'm pleased
to have the company

of such a worldly gentleman.

It would appear
we may be well-matched.

Not many unaccompanied ladies
frequent this establishment.

Hmm.

What brings you here?

A friend
is something of a regular.

He tells me he's met
interesting people here.

I see he's not mistaken.

It's a bit
of a rough neighborhood.

That doesn't worry you?

Not in the company
of courteous gentlemen.

Do you find my conduct improper?

Not at all.

Unfortunately, I have to leave
for a prior engagement.

May I have the honor
of escorting you?

Thank you, no.

I don't have far to go.

Perhaps we will see each other
again.

Until then.

Same red ink,
and it's the same handwriting.

Same red ink,
and it's the same handwriting

as the note Lucille Messing
gave to Mr. Carling.

Whatever Lucille was up to,

another woman
has taken her place.

Or maybe
they were working together.

But at what?

Clearly,
the young woman reveled

in creating a spectacle
at the tavern.

With no shyness or concern
for her behavior.

Perhaps they were a couple
of amateur dollymops after all.

But then, why the notes?

Hmm.

So are you going to be
following up

on your mystery woman's
invitation?

As part of my investigation.

And exactly how far will this
investigation of yours go?

Miss Fulford,

I believe you are exhibiting
signs of jealousy.

Well, where will I be
when you're visiting

these strange women in
hotel rooms at this late hour?

You'll be sleeping right here
in the cells.

Oh, lovely.

A constable will be
keeping watch until I return.

So is this my life now, is it?

I'm not a criminal,

but I'm gonna have to
live like one.

No, no.

You don't have to.

You just have to trust me.

As I was saying, I'm in need
of a new desk sergeant, Jackson.

You might want to consider
working here.

It's a good bunch of lads.

I'm doing fine
with Inspector O'Kelly, sir.

But not on
a desk sergeant's wage.

Come in. Come in.
Sit down.

Thank you, sir.

Fancy a drink?

I wouldn't say no.

Thank you, sir.

That's a fine drop of scotch,
Inspector.

- It goes down easy.
- Like a whore's drawers.

[chuckles]

We watch the salty language here
at Station 4, Slugger.

Then I'll be staying
with the boys in Number 5.

I keep telling you, it's money
down the drain on old Pop Smith.

He's over-the-hill
and far beyond.

You're just scared of having
your pants beaten off you

in front of your missus.

Leave my missus out of this.

Yeah?

I hear you leave her out
of a lot of things.

What's that mean?

Oh, it's all right, Jackson.

I won't tell a soul.

We can't all bat a thousand,
now, can we?

If you get my meaning,
right, Slugger?

You lumbering pile of...

[blow lands]

Assault a fellow officer,
would you?

You're under arrest, Jackson.

You won't be seeing any homeruns
from behind bars, sunshine.

Undress me.

[muffled laughter]

[indistinct speech]

[knocks on door]

Hello?

Hello?

Miss?

[suspenseful music]

♪♪

Miss?

Oh, no.

Any thoughts, Dr. Grace?

Similar ligature marks
as we found on Lucille Messing.

No apparent sign
of a struggle,

also like Miss Messing.

Yes.

Nothing to identify
the victim with.

Wait.

Her shawl is missing.

Shawl?

Yes, when I saw her
several hours ago,

she was wearing a shawl,
a silk shawl.

I'm finished here, Detective.

The attendants may take her
to the morgue.

Thank you for coming out
at such a late hour.

It's horrible.

To think
you were just talking to her

just a few hours before...

Yes.

Don't you ever want to just
leave all this ugliness behind?

I do, but I've made
my life here, Anna.

But aren't you curious
about the world,

about what's out there?

Well, of course, but...

We're on the cusp
of a new century, William.

Where do you want to be
when the clock strikes midnight?

Easter Island,
the Roman ruins of Pompeii?

The Tibetan Steppe, maybe?

I don't think they have clocks
in Tibet.

Well, we could take one
with us.

What do you mean?

Then we could run away,

travel the Silk Road.

As tempting
as your dreams sound,

our first priority
must be the Black Hand.

Well, all the more reason

to consider
what I'm talking about.

At the moment,
I am considering sleep.

So should you.

Strangulation occurred

shortly before you discovered
the body, Detective.

As you speculated.

I found this
in one part of the wound:

Silk.

The missing shawl.

Could she have been strangled
by her own silk shawl?

I would need to match
the shawl to this sample.

All of her clothes
were made of fine silk,

some of them
quite exotically detailed.

She also wore this.

A winged man,
ancient Persian motif.

It's most unusual.

There's more.

She was bound
sometime prior to her death.

But the marks
are quite superficial.

She doesn't appear
to have struggled.

I see.

Take a look at this,
Detective.

It's recent.

Similar to the mark
on Lucille Messing's neck.

Sir?

I looked into that room
at The Devil's Drum.

It seems it was rented
by a Mr. R. Stori by the month.

By the month, eh?

Sir, I find no trace
of such a person.

I suspect it's an alias.

Hmm, look into that,
would you, George?

Has Mr. Carling come in yet?

Sir,
he's in the interview room.

Thank you.

What were you doing
last night?

I was with my loving wife.

That is a barefaced lie.

I saw you myself last night
near The Devil's Drum,

where, moments later,

that young woman was found dead
in the same establishment,

and there was no loving wife
anywhere to be seen.

Room four.

She told me her name was Doris.

She'll vouch for me.

Do you recognize this woman?

I saw her at The Devil's Drum,

but she was very much alive.

When was this?

A week ago.

I walked by her table,
but she took no notice of me.

You were hoping she would?

I would not have refused
the young lady.

Mr. Carling, I can now
connect you to two young women

who have both been murdered.

Your cavalier attitude
isn't doing anything

to persuade me
of your innocence.

I followed Lucille Messing
to a hotel room,

where she instructed me
to undress her.

I followed her to the library,
where she denied knowing me,

but I didn't kill her.

As for your latest victim,
I have no idea who she is.

May I go now?

Yes.

But you remain under suspicion.

Mr. Carling.

What were you looking for
at The Devil's Drum?

The unpredictable,
Detective.

[upbeat piano music]

♪♪

Excuse me.

Have you seen this woman before?

Looking for
a different girl now?

Ah, Jake.

You may recall I pay very well
for information.

Have you seen this woman before?

I wish I could say I did.

Actually, Jake,

I might need your assistance
on another matter.

"Relations
not for procreation"?

I don't want
this sinful rubbish.

What in the bloody blazes
are you doing with this filth?

Looking after myself for once.

- Know your place, woman.
- Get home.

- When I'm good and ready.
- When I tell you-.

You'll not raise your hand
to this woman.

You, you keep your
perverted ideas to yourself.

[clattering]

Another attempt
to assault your wife,

and I will call the constable.

You'll regret this.

Mark my words.

You're absolutely right.

Detective Murdoch has to be

one of the most accomplished
detectives in the modern world.

His talents
would be in demand anywhere:

London, San Francisco,
Paris, Rome.

He certainly has an aptitude
for languages.

Yes, that he does.

So what or who
keeps him in Toronto?

Well, Detective Murdoch
is not the peripatetic type.

I think he finds comfort
being in one place.

I think he thinks of this
as being his home

and all of us being something
of a family.

Well, maybe a change
would do him good.

I recognize this woman.

You do?

Yes, she used to come
into the library regularly.

She used to like
books on Persia.

Her name was, uh,
Minnie Duggan.

George.

Though I never knew her name.

Miss Messing, you say?

Stanley Faber,
our ornithologist.

George, escort Mr. Faber
to the station house, please.

"Slowly he undid
each tiny pearl button.

"His hands fumbled at
the sheer delight of the task.

"As my robe fell open
to reveal my bodice,

his hand brushed against
the swell of my bosom."

They're silly stories.

What's the harm
in reading such nonsense?

Mr. Faber, these stories
are connected to not one

but two murders.

I-don't know anything
about murder.

I don't even know
who the other woman is.

But you knew the whereabouts
of the booklets.

How is that?

I'm not the only man
who-who knew about them.

I ask you again, sir:

How did you know
where to find the booklets?

Mr. Faber,
do I need to remind you again

of the seriousness
of this crime?

It-it was the girl.

What girl?

The dead librarian.

She-she told me where to look.

Lucille Messing.

Yes.

Miss Messing.

One of the booklets
is a firsthand account

of Leonard Carling's encounter
with Lucille Messing.

Yes, right down to the removal
of the last garment,

I might add.

Thank you, Crabtree.

And you, put that down.
It's evidence.

If I may.

Yes, Anna.

The words used,
the details in the description,

I believe this is written
in a female voice.

Anna is of the opinion
that Lucille Messing,

and now possibly Minnie,

were willing participants.

Really?

Whoever devised this scheme
sent the girls instructions.

After their assignations
were completed,

perhaps they recounted their
adventures to the mastermind.

Who then
printed and published

the titillating literature.

But then the shenanigans
went off the rails,

and the women ended up dead.

Lucille Messing,
by all accounts,

was a very timid girl-.

Not an obvious candidate.

How did he know
which women would be willing?

Women send out signals.

Men who know how to read them
will find them.

How do they read the signals?

I wonder if a man could learn
to read the signals.

The man you're looking for,
Mr. Falcone,

he's inside.

Always sits in the back.

Important sort.

Type of man
I'd like to be in with.

What's your business with him?

That's no matter to you.

Thank you, Jake.

Oh, and I trust our dealings
will stay between the two of us.

Oh, you can count on my word,
Mr. Murdoch.

Miss Fulford has not wronged
your organization.

It was her fiancé.

Nevertheless,
I have a reputation to maintain.

Maintaining this reputation

has already cost you one man,
Mr. Falcone.

This Miss Fulford
means something to you.

That's no business of yours.

I see.

We will leave her alone.

But?

One day,
when the time is right,

you can return the favor.

What do you say?

As long as Miss Fulford lives,
you have my word.

I will return the favor.

Then we have a deal.

Is it really over?

Tis.

I feel a lightness in my step
I haven't felt in months.

I can't quite believe it.

I'm free.

- Well, you are.
- Enjoy it.

I can't thank you enough,
William.

So now that I'm back
at the library,

surely there's a way I can help
you with your investigation.

- Yes.
- Yes, you can.

Try winning the game with your
ringer sitting in my jail cell,

O'Kelly.

My ringer?

[laughs]

What's so funny?

Oh, knock yourself out,
Brackenreid.

You can keep him locked up
as long as you like.

What do you mean?

You think Slugger Jackson
is my ringer?

That lad couldn't hit a baseball
to save his life.

I saw his homerun
with my own eyes.

It sailed out of the park.

It was a fluke, Brackenreid.

A fluke.

So if he's not your ringer,
who is?

You didn't see my pitcher.

[laughs]

Put that down, George.

Sir,
it's important police work.

Have you found the printer of
Miss Rose Petal's booklets yet?

Uh, no, sir.

I still have to compare
the watermarks

to some of the various samples
I've collected.

Sir, I think
you should listen to this.

"My breath quickened.

"I would never hurt you,
my beauty, '

"he whispered softly
as his nimble brown fingers

tied the soft silk ropes
around my wrists."

Silk ropes.

Yes, sir.

"The sultan gave a soft sigh
of excitement.

"The door to his tent
fell closed behind him.

I felt of jolt of excitement
as he tied the final knot."

What do you think?

Silk ropes, no struggle:

The story matches the evidence
on Minnie Duggan's body.

Well observed, Constable.

You obviously read the booklets
very carefully.

I thought this matter
was settled, Julia.

I didn't intend
for this to be public, Darcy.

We had an agreement
that you'd stop this.

Now you're threatening my career
and your own

with this cavalier disregard
for the law.

I'm not breaking the law,
Darcy.

Section 207 of the criminal code
clearly states

that there's a public good
defense, which I can justify-.

Don't quote legalities at me,
Julia.

You're the talk of the hospital.

My promotion's now in jeopardy.

Did you even consider that
at all?

Someone has to challenge
this law.

But why you?

I can't give a useless
iron tincture

to another woman worn out
by continual childbearing.

It's that important to you?

Yes!

More important
than a promise to your husband?

Yes, officer,
initially Lucille Messing

and then Miss Minnie Duggan.

Andrew Trevor.

Do you have any idea
what could've happened to her?

They're both...

Mr. Trevor, can I help you?

Oh, Detective Murdoch,

thank the Lord you're here.

I was just explaining
to the constable

that another of my choir members
is missing.

Another one?

Are you quite sure?

Quite sure.

First Miss Messing,
and now this?

I now fear that my choir

had some connection
to these dreadful events.

Who's your missing
choir member?

Miss Duggan.

Minnie Duggan.

Mr. Trevor, when
is your next choir practice?

All right, everyone,
from the beginning.

[organ plays]

♪♪

All: ♪ Praise, my soul,
the King of heaven ♪

♪ To his feet
thy tribute bring ♪

♪ Ransomed, healed,
restored, forgiven ♪

♪ Who like me
His praise should sing ♪

♪ Praise him,
praise him ♪

♪ Praise him, praise him ♪

♪ Praise the everlasting King ♪

♪ Praise him for his grace ♪

Minnie Duggan's
missing silk shawl,

found in your coat pocket.

I have no idea
how that got there.

Why didn't you tell me
you sang in the choir

with your fiancée, Lucille?

I didn't think
it was relevant.

No?

When was the last time
you saw Minnie Duggan?

At choir practice last Monday.

She was very consoling
about Lucille.

Oh, that's when you realized.

Minnie suspected
you had killed your fiancée.

How dare you suggest
such a thing?

You discovered your fiancée,
Lucille,

had been living a double life,
so you killed her.

And when Minnie Duggan
discovered what you had done,

you had to kill her as well.

I did not kill Lucille,
and I didn't kill Minnie Duggan.

Geoffrey Coville,
you are under arrest for murder.

The shawl
isn't the murder weapon.

The weave of the silk
is too coarse.

I see.

I'm sorry, Detective.

Thank you.

Coville knew both women

and had the silk shawl
in his possession.

But you don't have
the evidence to hold him?

No.

Sirs, madam,
in tracing the watermark,

I found the printer
for Miss Rose Petal's books,

a Mr. Ramston.

And the customer?

A Mr. R. Stori,
an alias you may remember

from the room rental
at The Devil's Drum.

All payments were in cash
delivered anonymously.

So no further leads.

Well, not exactly, sir.

In talking with the printer
about his previous clients,

I discovered something
of coincidence.

He also produces sheet music
for Mr. Trevor.

Trevor the choirmaster?

Very good, George.

Murdoch, look at this.

Oh, have a look at this,
Sir.

What the devil
is going on here?

I demand an explanation,
Detective Murdoch.

Explanations are indeed
in order, Mr. Trevor.

Now, if you would kindly
accompany us to the station.

So you got the job,
despite your spirited wife?

[chuckles]

Yes, there was no one
more surprised than I

when Lamonte announced
I was the new administrator.

It's such good news, Darcy.

When do you start?

Today.

Beginning with the installation
of a plaque

to Lamonte's father
in the front lobby.

Oh.

[chuckles]

And after the foofaraw,
what then?

I don't know.

I'll just be getting
my feet wet.

I'd very much like you
to endorse the women's clinic.

Julia, there will be
no official support

for the advocacy
of contraception.

That was made very plain to me.

I see.

Maybe in time.

Of course.

I'll be busy tomorrow.

There's a fundraising
garden party at the Lamontes.

Oh.

Well, I'll admire the flowers.

I'm sure Mrs. Lamonte's roses
are splendid.

I don't expect you to come,
Julia.

Darcy, I'm more than happy to.

It's just an obligatory
attendance on my part.

What a shame.

I was planning
to distribute prophylactics

to the gentlemen present.

Julia,
that's not what I was saying.

There's no need to explain.

I'm perfectly happy
with the arrangement, Darcy.

I think it's best
for both of us.

I couldn't agree more.

[door clicks closed]

Inspector, carry on.

I need a moment.

This way.

Detective Murdoch.

Yes?

A colleague of mine,
a Mr. Leone,

is going to be taken
into custody.

I need to meet you this Saturday
to discuss some options.

That's not possible.

I'm playing in a police
baseball game on Saturday.

My absence will be noted.

Perhaps I'll stroll by.

We can have our conversation
afterwards.

It would be amusing to watch

policemen running around
like little children.

My office, George?

I'm in your office, sir.

Why, yes, I know.

- Oh, I'm sorry, sir.
- I had to use your table.

I've cut together
some photographs.

I'm trying to analyze
this new fangled throw

that the pitcher at Station 5
has developed.

The ball drops, George,
fooling the batter.

Yes, but how?

I believe they call it
a "spit ball."

The application of moisture

changes the weight
on one side of the ball.

Well, if I'm to play the sport,
George,

I took some time
to learn about it.

Oh.

You see, as the ball
reaches velocity here,

it then drops here.

Excuse me.

That was quite an elaborate
game you devised, Mr. Trevor,

including planting
Minnie Duggan's silk scarf

in Geoffrey Coville's coat.

I don't know what
you're talking about, Detective.

You knew
that two of your choir members,

Lucille Messing
and Minnie Duggan,

were very impressionable
young women,

and you lured them
into your world of perversion.

They confided in you
the stories of their encounters,

and you printed
and published them

for yours and other men's
amusement.

But when you realized the police
were on to what you were doing,

you had to kill Minnie Duggan
to silence her.

I did no such thing.

You recognize this tie,
Mr. Trevor?

I may.

This was the tie
used to strangle Minnie Duggan.

Impossible.

Well, the tie matches fibers
found on Minnie Duggan's body.

That tie is readily available
at the Eaton's department store.

There must be a hundred men
walking the streets

wearing the identical one.

There very well may be
a hundred ties, Mr. Trevor,

but there is only one tie pin,

one that matches the wounds
on your victim's necks.

Yours, Mr. Trevor.

These young women trusted you,
and you took advantage of them.

No.

Lucille took little persuasion

to venture out
and try something new.

She was a romantic,

fascinated by the pain and
beauty of love and obsession.

You no doubt saw her tattoo.

Your idea?

Not at all.

She wanted it.

Lucille Messing wasn't enough.

You then courted Minnie Duggan.

Neither woman was coerced,
Detective.

I read the accounts
of Minnie Duggan's encounters.

You preyed
on her desire for adventure.

At first, it was small things:

Drinking in public,
smoking a cigarette.

And Miss Messing?

When Lucille
suggested the tattoo,

I knew I had her.

But you were the master
of the game,

a game that escalated
from tattoos

to propositioning strangers,

and then escalated again
to murder.

That's not what happened.

I didn't kill for pleasure.

The idea repulses me.

Then why did you kill
Lucille Messing?

Lucille was the first woman
I approached.

When you devised
the idea for the books.

Yes, she was
a willing accomplice.

She even told other men

where to find the books
in the library.

That's when I made my mistake.

Mistake?

I invited Minnie to join.

When Lucille found out,
she was angry.

Our special relationship
had been sullied in her eyes.

She felt betrayed.

She threatened to expose me.

So you killed her
to protect yourself?

And you also killed
Minnie Duggan

for the same reason.

What kind of man are you?

I had no choice, Detective.

I had no choice.

So when Lucille
talked of betrayal,

it wasn't of her fiancé,

but of sharing Trevor's games
with Minnie Duggan.

Yes.

Do you think
she was in love with Trevor?

No, I don't think so.

Trevor thought
he had power over her,

but Miss Messing felt like
she was very much in control

and didn't want to share that
with anyone.

To think Lucille
buried that welter of emotion

behind such a timid exterior...

Anna.

Yes?

What do you want to say,
William?

Hello, Emily.

- Good to see you, Julia.
- Hello.

Come on, Crabtree!

[sighs]

William in knickerbockers.

Maybe he's coming out
of his shell.

Well, look at our pitcher.

Constable Crabtree is looking
positively striking.

Indeed he is.

All right, George,
all right.

- Chucks it like a tart.
- Right in the middle.

[bat cracks]

Oh!

That's it.

[sighs]

Strike!

That was good, eh?

Crowd: Oh!

Time.

Trust the science, George.

Remember the drop of the ball.

Hit six inches below where you
think the ball is going to be.

Imagine the ball
to be in a different place

than it actually is,

and then swing where it isn't.

Exactly.

Away you go.

[sighs]

[scattered applause]

- Come on, George.
- Crabtree.

[spits]

[bat cracks]

Oh, good shot, Crabtree!

Very well done, George!

Ho, ho, ho!

Well done, George!

Very good!

What the bloody hell
just happened, Murdoch?

Well, sir, the ball appears

to be coming straight
at the batter,

but the physics would suggest...

I don't care how.

Just makes sure
it happens again.

- Right.
- Gentlemen, gentlemen, huddle up.

All right, Henry, have an eye.

[bat cracks]

[cheers and applause]

[laughter]

[bat cracks]

That's in!

[bat cracks]

Yes!

[applause]

[bat cracks]

Oh.

- It's all mel!
- Watch it, sirl.

Oh, well done, gentlemen!

Well done!

Crabtree, you're up first.

[bat cracks]

[applause]

Come on, Higgins!

Bring me home, buddy.

Bring me home!

[bat cracks]

[cheers and applause]

[bat cracks]

Excellent hit, sir!

[laughs]

Well done.

[giggling]

[sighs]

Come on, sir.

[dramatic music]

♪♪

[bat cracks]

[cheers and applause]

And it's out!

Here, here, sir!

Let's go! Let's go!

[cheers and applause]

Jolly good, sir.

Whoo!

To the untrained eye,

the ball looks like it's coming
in a certain height,

but actually it's way down...

Such a perfect summer's day.

You think so?

Oh, come on, William.

You won the ball game.

The sun's shining.

You and I are together.

What would you change?

It's perfect.

Well, I suppose you're right.

Let's stroll back.

[gun cocks back]

[gun fires]

Anna!

Anna!

No!

Help!

George!

I see him, sir!

[dramatic music]

♪♪

Anna!

Julia!

Julia, help me!

- William.
- Nol!

I'm so sorry.

No!

You!

You murdering coward!

This wasn't us.

You hired the boy!

We had nothing to do
with this.

[blows landing]

[grunting]

We couldn't charge
the bastard.

There was nothing to connect him
to Miss Fulford's murder.

What about the boy?

He got away.

I'm sorry, Murdoch.

Thank you, sir.

Falcone said something curious
before he left.

"Tell Murdoch
the debt has been paid.”

What was he talking about?

I wouldn't know,
Sir.

She's ready.

We must hurry.

Thank you for your help, Julia.

We're all set, Miss Fulford.

So you're
my traveling companion, Jake?

I'll take her out
as far as Kingston, but then-.

Then I'm on my own.

Thank you, William.

For midnight
on the Tibetan Steppe.

Well,
I hope it keeps good time.

That it does.

Thank you for my freedom.

"I never thought
it could happen to me.

"Just last Sunday I was
in the park to feed the ducks...

- [whispers]
- Swans.

"Swans.

"When a young lady
approached me.

"I found her most beguiling,

and she was indeed
entranced with me."

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