All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - S08E12 - The Devil Wears Whalebone - [BD][1080p][x265 10-bit][AAC 5.1]_Track05

Now, that I can help you with.

Abolish the tyranny of corsetry.

I heard Mr. Macy was sending
a representative

all the way from New York City.

Miss Heloise told me
a man is here from Harrods.

In London, England.

TENNANT: I'll be sure to linger
around his chair.

Are you nervous, Nicolette?

TENNANT:
She's not nervous.

She likes prancing about in her
underclothes for wealthy men.

HELOISE:
Ladies, ladies.

We're about to begin.

I shouldn't need
to impress upon you

the importance
of today's events.

No mistakes.

Be perfect.

Who let him in?

And now we have Charlotte,

wearing the House of Heloise's
summer model,

in the traditional style.

For the lady who prefers
to maintain a classic shape,

Italian sateen and coutil,

with baby ribbon and lace trim.

Cordite-filled, with a genuine
padded whalebone busk.

Retail suggested at $1.75.

Nicolette sports
our Princess hip corset.

Made in
the new erect form style.

You'll notice the shapely
s-curve of her body.

Steam-molded to remove
all stretch from the fabric.

Whalebone-filled, fine French
coutil with sateen trim.

Retail suggested at $3.50.

And now for
our piéce de résistance.

My new innovation.

A modern corset
for a modern woman.

This corset is not for
the grandes dames of society,

nor is it
for the woman of leisure.

This corset
is for today's woman,

who plays as hard as she works.

A corset as freeing
as the life ahead of her.

This new patented technology
is exclusive to me,

and you're the first
to be seeing it.

[Women gasping]

Oh, dear.

No need to panic, everyone.

Please just take your seats.

A tiny interruption.

We'll resume immediately.

- Please take your seats.
- Aah!

Sir, the victim was
a Miss Isabelle Young.

She was standing right here
modeling a corset

when this brick was thrown
through this window.

She was unfortunately struck
and died shortly thereafter.

George, where is the body?

Sir, it had been removed
to the dressing room.

Miss Heloise did not want to
further distress her guests.

Do we know who threw the brick?

No, sir.

Although there was a group
of women protesters apparently.

Dress reformers.
They scattered quickly.

The lads are trying to
track them down now.

Hmm.
And this Miss Heloise?

CRABTREE: She's the owner
of this establishment, sir.

Not entirely a pleasant woman.

Miss Heloise,

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

Detective.

An accident such as this

is hardly concern
for the constabulary.

Nicolette, take the Americans
more champagne.

Be quick about it.

- Miss Heloise --
- Detective Murdoch.

I'm trying to salvage
a very important event.

The future of my business
is riding on its success.

Your presence is making
a terrible accident much worse.

I see.

Do you have any idea
who may have thrown the brick?

None at all.

Charlotte,
stop that man from leaving.

I will sell Harrods this season
if it kills us all.

None of your guests
will be leaving

until I'm good and finished,
Miss Heloise,

so there is no need to worry.

Have you received any threats
of late?

No.

But, Miss Heloise, the letter.

Charlotte!

Harrods!

What letter would that be,
Miss Heloise?

[Sighs]

An unfortunate accident,
you say.

Cause of death appears to be
this wound to her head.

Yes.
Thank you, Dr. Grace.

Detective, I understand
this woman was modeling a corset

at the time of death.

- That's correct.
- She isn't wearing one now.

Oh.

HELOISE:
Surely, my guests may leave now.

These men represent Mr. Eaton,
Mr. Simpson, Mr. Macy,

and even Harrods.

They do not take kindly
to being kept prisoner.

Where is the corset
this young lady was wearing

at the time of her death?

It is company property

and the key piece
of my current collection.

It is evidence

in an investigation
of a suspicious death.

Suspicious?

A brick flew through the window
and hit her on the head.

- We all saw it.
- The corset, Miss Heloise.

Nicolette.

Thank you.

Miss Green, is it?

Do you know who may have sent
Miss Heloise

the threatening note?

I haven't the faintest idea.

Thank you.

Do you know of anyone
that may have wished her harm?

There is someone.

Thank you.

Gareth Clarke,
Clarke and Co. Corsetry.

Did you write this note?

If I were to threaten Heloise,
I would do it to her face.

And I would never harm
a lovely young model.

You really should be looking
at those annoying protesters.

You believe them to be
responsible?

CLARKE:
Well, who else?

"Corsets are the devil's
torture chamber"

and other such nonsense.

Shrewish things
who can't attract a suitor

no matter how tightly they lace.

Could you describe any of them?

Unmemorable except
for the ringleader.

She was wearing a straw boater
dyed black,

if you can believe such a thing.

Thank you, Mr. Clarke.

MOSS:
Poor thing.

This gash on her head --
is that what killed her?

It's likely,

but I try not to draw
a conclusion

until I have all the facts
before me.

And how long until you have
all the facts?

Some hours yet.

She had been tight-lacing
for quite some time.

You can feel her organs pushing
into her abdominal cavity.

Her lungs are compressed.

She was likely unable to eat
very much.

And I believe at least two
of her ribs are cracked.

Corsets are wretched creations.

I don't wear one myself.

Oh, I couldn't imagine
not wearing a corset.

I would feel so...

Free?

Exposed.

And improper.
I work with men.

MURDOCH:
Dr. Grace.

Miss Moss.

Detective.

Detective,
I wasn't expecting you so soon.

I can assure you that I am
focused on the case at hand.

MOSS:
I should leave you to your work.

I'll have the new pamphlets
for the election tomorrow.

A straw boater dyed black.

I wasn't trying to kill anyone.

I couldn't have known
she was standing there.

I was making a statement.

You did more than that.

That poor dead girl
on the table,

her body warped and twisted
into unnatural shapes...

That isn't the point.

...all for some farcical idea
of beauty.

It's barbaric
and outdated thinking.

MURDOCH:
Miss Moss.

Why you threw the brick
is immaterial.

At best, you'll be charged
with destruction of property.

At worst, manslaughter.

Either way, you'll be spending
the night in our cells.

Detective.

You must know I didn't wish
for anyone to die.

Did you write this note
to Miss Heloise?

No.

Simon, what on earth
happened to you?

Nothing.

Simon.

I saw a penny on the sidewalk,

and I thought
it was my lucky day.

But when I bent over
to pick it up,

some kid socked me in the ribs.

So you got into a fight.

He hit me first! It was
my penny, and he stole it.

What was I supposed to do?

You don't believe me.

Well, who's this other boy?

- That's him.
- That's him.

All right, you go on home.
I'll take care of it.

I can take care of it right now.

Don't rise to it, son.

You're going home right now.

Father,
may I have my penny back now?

I'll keep hold of it
till this matter's settled.

But it wasn't my fault.
I was reaching for it first.

I know, I know.
I believe you, Bobby.

Higgins, can you take Bobby
and get him cleaned up?

Of course.
Come on, lad.

The blow from the brick
was not the cause of death.

Then what was?

Suffocation.

And not blunt force trauma.
Are you quite sure?

Petechial hemorrhaging.

I am quite sure.

Have you determined
the cause of suffocation?

Her ribs were cracked,

which isn't uncommon
amongst women who tight-lace.

There were no particulates
in the esophagus,

meaning nothing was held
over her mouth.

And her airway did not swell
nor was it blocked.

Well, then how?

Given she was standing upright
in a room full of people

for some time
before she collapsed,

I simply have no idea.

One hint of discomfort
and this is coming off.

I remember when I was a girl

our nanny forcing Ruby and I
to sleep in our corsets.

She tied our arms
behind our backs

so we couldn't remove them
in the night.

That seems somewhat extreme.

A common practice, actually.

But in our case,
she was dismissed,

and our mother let us run free

probably longer
than she should have.

Well, that would explain
a thing or two.

It's enormously comfortable.

Nothing horrid poking out
anywhere.

I can breathe normally,
yet I feel quite supported.

[Laughs]

Remarkable.

It isn't forcing my posture
in any way.

And it's oddly fetching.

It is that.

-[ Knock on door]
-[ Gasps]

I ordered hot chocolate.

Good evening.

Thank you.

- JULIA: [Gasping ]
-[Thud]

Julia!

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't breathe!

William.

This corset is your killer.

It's a clean break.

Keep it wrapped for six weeks,
then we'll see.

I feel so foolish.

Imagine a corset squeezing me
to death

and my only injury
is a broken wrist.

Breathe.

[ Exhales ]

I would never have imagined
a corset could suffocate a woman

had I not felt it myself.

You're perfectly fine,
apart from the wrist, of course.

Thank you, Emily.

What we women
put ourselves through.

Those dress reformers have
a point.

When not taken to the extreme,
a corset does serve a purpose.

Yes, but why should we feel the
need to conceal supposed flaws?

Why can't women just wear
what they want

and make their own choices?

Not all women
are in the position to do so.

You and I still wear a corset
everyday.

[ Knock on door]

Good morning, ladies.

Julia, my goodness,
what happened to you?

A corset injury.

What can we do for you, Lillian?

I've brought the campaign
flyers, hot off the presses.

"Margaret Haile --

equal rights to all,
special privileges to none."

What do you think?

It's excellent.

But, Lillian, I must request,
on behalf of the campaign,

that you refrain from throwing
any more bricks.

Julia, in my experience,
action invokes change.

And often that action must be
violent lest it be ignored.

DR. OGDEN:
And in my experience,

change must happen
within social boundaries,

lest it be dismissed as radical.

Perhaps you should loosen more
than just your corset.

DR. GRACE:
I'm free this afternoon.

I can go canvassing
with Lillian.

MOSS:
Lovely.

And I promise to be proper.

At least for today.

So, it was the corset, then.

I believe so, sir.

How?

Corsets are stiff, molded
supports encased in fabric,

designed to force the body
into an artificial shape.

Right, yes.

This corset, however, exhibits
none of those standard traits.

BRACKENREID:
For a married man,

you seem to know a great deal
about corsets, Murdoch.

What do these bits do, then?

I have no idea.

Sir.

The texts on garment-making
you requested.

Ah.
Thank you, George.

Sir, do you think young Bobby
Braokenreid is on the up-and-up?

I have no reason
to believe he isn't.

Lying and stealing, sir. That's
not normal for a boy his age.

George.

Lying and stealing is exactly
normal for a boy his age.

Having the inspector as a father
would have its own trials,

I imagine.

[Clears throat]

George,
I believe I've discovered

how this corset killed
Miss Young.

Indeed.
How exactly?

You see these pieces
of chain link.

When they are fitted together
at exactly this angle,

they create a ratchet
and they cannot be pulled apart.

In fact, the ratchets
will only tighten further.

Sir, what tightened it
in the first place?

Well, I don't know yet.

I haven't discovered any sort of
triggering mechanism.

Is there a trigger of some sort?

Well, there must be.
I just haven't found it yet.

Of course I designed it.

You're holding my sketches
bearing my official seal.

- Is this all of them?
- Yes.

Charlotte, you've gained
1/8 of an inch on your waist.

- What have you been eating?
- Nothing, I swear.

None of these sketches show
the inner layer

with the horizontal rows
of metal keys.

If it's not in the sketches,
it's not in the garment.

Miss Heloise, I believe
you are failing to grasp

the seriousness
of this situation.

You have admitted
to designing a corset

that has killed a young woman.

Oh, I understand the seriousness
all too well.

I've not had one inquiry about
my products since the incident.

And corsets don't kill.

Well, this one did.

It was built
for that very purpose.

Even if what you're saying
is true,

why on earth would I design
such a corset

when I was set
to model it myself?

Who was aware of this?

HELOISE:
It was hardly a secret.

I always model
in my fashion parades.

Well, Miss Heloise,
if that is the case,

if you were set
to model the corset

and this was public knowledge,

then you very well could be
the intended target.

So the person
who built this corset

not only set out to destroy
my business but me as well?

So it would seem.

I find that hard to believe.

See, I am respected and beloved.

I can assure you
no one was trying to kill me.

Charlotte will see you out.

Don't mind her.

She's just like that.

Which is why I think
there are plenty of people

who wouldn't cry over her grave.

Yourself included.

Why did Miss Heloise not model
the corset?

She didn't model the corset

because she was too fat
to fit into it.

But did she not make it
to measure?

Miss Heloise
doesn't make anything.

She draws it,
and Miss Parks builds it.

Miss Parks?

TENNANT: Eunice Parks.
The head seamstress.

We use a factory in Buffalo

to produce the orders
as they come in,

but they've yet to receive
this season's patterns.

And what of the corsets
from the evening of the event?

I build the prototypes
for the fashion parades.

Well, then,
perhaps you can tell me

how these ratchets tighten?

PARKS:
I have no idea what that is.

By your own admission,
you made this corset.

I made a corset.

Similar to this one,

but this is not the corset
that I made.

MURDOCH:
How can you be so sure?

This corset was sewn
by a machine.

I don't use machines.

I personally sew each prototype
by hand.

Oh.

Well, then, where is the corset
that you built?

The last I saw it was the night
of the fashion parade.

I haven't the slightest idea
where it is now.

Sir.

Jackson and Higgins are on their
way to the House of Heloise

to look for the prototype
of this killer corset.

Oh, good.
And what have you, George?

Well, sir, I found out there are
several oorsetieres in Toronto,

and they all use
sewing machines.

Well, we'll need to speak
with them all.

No need to, sir.

I also found out
that one of those corsetieres

is Gareth Clarke.

George, just because Mr. Clark's
company uses machines

doesn't mean we should rule out
the rest of them.

Yes, but, sir, I also learned

that seamstresses
are terrible gossips.

And as it turns out,

Mr. Clarke and Miss Heloise
were once involved.

She was one of his best models

until she left Clarke, opened
a corset house of her own,

and brought all his best clients
with her.

Well, then,
bring in Mr. Clarke, George.

Sir, he's in your office.

Did you collect any samples
from his machines?

All 30, sir.
They're on my desk.

Right.

Well, then, compare those
samples to this corset

8S soon 8S YOU can.

Sir.
Right away.

Oh, and, George, good work.

Crabtree.

This business between Bobby
and Simon needs dealing with.

Sir, I couldn't agree more.

I understand that
for boys of a certain age,

it's not easy
without a man to look up to.

Without a man to look --

Sir, Bobby hit Simon
from behind.

It was a dirty blow.

My boy doesn't fight dirty.

Sir, no offense,
but how do you know?

Because, Crabtree,
he's a Brackenreid.

We win by skill and with spunk.

Sir, with all due respect,
Bobby is no match for Simon.

It's not a fair fight.

We'll see about that.

I'll get the lads
to build a boxing ring.

A boxing ring?

A fair fight.
The winner takes the penny.

If that's what you want,

I'm sure Simon would be happy
to settle this once and for all.

As will Bobby.

We're comparing sewing samples
from your machines

to the corset that killed
Isabelle Young.

It's a waste of time.

It's not the machines
that differ,

but the women operating them.

And there are legions
of seamstresses in this city

who use machines.

You and Miss Heloise have
a history.

And that history gives you
the strongest motive

for seeing her dead.

I'm afraid
I'm not following you.

You must have known

Miss Heloise was planning
to wear the corset that night.

Heloise was supposed to wear
the corset?

Of course.
Her vanity knows no bounds.

Did you make the corset in the
hopes of killing Miss Heloise?

CLARKE:
I did not.

If I was going to kill Heloise,
why would I choose a corset?

As bad for my business
as for hers.

I would have expected
the women of The Annex

to be a little more open
to a female candidate.

Middle-class women are more
interested in social climbing

than social change.

Lillian,
I know what you told Julia,

but why did you throw the brick?

Three years ago,
I refused to marry

the eminently presentable suitor
my parents had chosen for me.

I was ejected from my home
and cut off financially.

I had dreams, Emily,
of becoming an engineer.

But I had to leave university
and find a job.

As a model, as it happened.

At the House of Heloise.

I see.

Miss Heloise treats her models
like cattle.

And when I protested,
I was summarily fired.

I'm sorry.

I'm not.

If I hadn't been fired,

I would have never dedicated
my life to worthy causes.

I would have never
have taken off

the medieval torture device
known as a corset,

and I would have never met you.

Evans, Worsley, good job, lads.

How are you getting on, Murdoch?

Sir.
Very slowly.

Higgins and Jackson were unable
to find the original prototype

at the House of Heloise.

You believe that whoever made
the lethal corset

swapped it for the prototype
at the last minute.

Find the corset,
find the killer.

That was my hope.

But I fear it may have been
destroyed by now.

Do you have a suspect in mind?

Well, sir, now that we know

Miss Heloise was
the intended target,

I believe the killer
may have not been present

at the time
of Miss Young's murder.

If he was there,

he would have stopped Miss Young
from wearing it.

Precisely.

Although, if I wanted to kill
Miss Heloise with a corset

and Miss Young comes
out wearing it,

I'd probably keep my mouth shut
or I'll be arrested for murder.

- That's an excellent point.
- BRACKENREID: Right.

I'm gonna keep Bobby away from
Margaret's Yorkshire pudding.

Training starts at dawn.

You should leave, too.

Go do something fun
this evening, Murdoch.

Oh, I plan to do
exactly that, sir.

The simple act of breathing
may be all that was required

to activate the mechanism.

The bellows should be higher.

A corseted woman breathes in
the upper section of her lungs.

The diaphragm has no room
to expand.

Hence the "heaving bosom"
of a woman in distress.

Oh, I see.

DR. OGDEN:
That should do it.

Right, then.
Let's get started.

Dr. Grace,
if I could trouble you

to take measurements
of the waist and, uh, bosom.

And what should I do?

For heaven's sake.

My wrist is broken.
It hasn't fallen off.

Hand me a measuring tape.

[Sighs]

Right, then.

Approximately 1/8 of an inch
lost in the waist

and 1/16 in the ribcage.

Isabelle Young wore the corset
for approximately one hour

before her death.

- This could take some time.
- An hour?

I was barely wearing it
for five minutes

when I felt it tighten
significantly.

What happened
in those five minutes?

You laced me up.

You bent down
to touch your toes.

Then you left the room,

and all of a sudden,
I just couldn't get my breath.

The cocoa.

DR. GRACE:
Cocoa?

Room service delivered cocoa.

There was a knock at the door

and a sharp intake of breath.

[ Gasps]

And that activated
the mechanism.

Dr. Grace,
if I could trouble you

for another measurement, please.

DR. GRACE: Two full inches lost
in the waist

and 1 1/2 in the ribcage.

The pressure being exerted is
certainly enough to break ribs.

DR. GRACE:
As happened to Isabelle Young.

The knock startled me.

I gasped,
and it triggered the mechanism.

Much like a brick being thrown
through a window would.

DR. OGDEN:
I imagine so.

The brick was the catalyst,

and Lillian Moss threw
the brick.

DR. OGDEN:
But why?

Lillian may have radical ideas,

but to plan
such a devious murder

to protest the wearing
of corsets?

Detective.

Dr. Grace?

Lillian worked for Miss Heloise.

She was fired
and has resented her ever since.

- DR. OGDEN: Emily.
- I only learned of it today.

Eliminate the corsets
and the devil who makes them

in one fell swoop.

Lillian Moss has made fools
of us all.

Do we have your vote, Detective?

MURDOCH: Do you see
the similarities, Miss Moss?

The paper stock is identical.

You threw the brick
through Miss Heloise's window.

You wrote
the threatening letter,

indicating premeditation.

And you were once
in Miss Heloise's employ.

How did you --

I imagine Dr. Grace told you.

You had the ability to design
a corset to kill Miss Heloise.

Detective.

I hold no affection
for Miss Heloise.

No one who modeled for her does.

But even if I could design
such a corset,

I couldn't make it.

I can't sew to save my life.

I ruined three campaign banners.

Ask your wife.

What did you mean
by this letter, "corsets kill"?

They do kill.
And maim.

The brick
was only meant to disrupt.

You've already lied to me once,
Miss Moss.

I swear.

What about
any of the other models?

Would they be able to build
this corset?

Charlotte Tennant was
a seamstress

before she became a model.

Make it full size, Burns,
full size.

Sir, respectfully,
shouldn't it be a foot smaller.

They're just boys.

There's no sense in
mollycoddling them, Crabtree.

If they're going to fight
like men,

they should fight
in a man-sized ring.

Henry, what's all this?

The boys are going to have
a proper fight, sir.

The boys.

Simon is the clear favorite.
Bobby doesn't stand a chance.

Don't tell the inspector
I said that, though.

Sir,
I'm going to release Miss Moss.

I no longer believe her to be
involved in the murder.

Also, I'll be returning
to the House of Heloise

to question the employees
further.

Good, good.

Good.

You really believe me
capable of murder'?

No, that's not --

Even worse that you could
so easily betray my confidence.

Lillian, I work with the police.
lt was pertinent information.

Imagine me,
thinking you could be...

Be what?

My secrets are mine to keep.

This is my job.
You have to understand it.

I don't, actually!

Of course Miss Heloise
is strict.

And mean.

Except to Isabelle.

She was the favorite.

She got invited to dinner
with clients and everything.

But I didn't mind.

Isabelle was nice.

You started here
as a seamstress.

Yes.

I was truly terrible at sewing.

I was lucky Miss Heloise fired
that Lillian girl

and needed a model right away.

Did you use a sewing machine?

Heavens, no.

I could never understand how to
work one of those contraptions.

What about
any of the other models?

Nicolette Green only cares
about finding a husband.

Good luck to her.
She's hardly a ray of sunshine.

She even works the odd time
for Mr. Clarke.

And never mind the champagne she
stole from the fashion parade.

She also works for Mr. Clarke?

It's true I don't care for
the way Miss Heloise treats us,

but this is the best house
in the city,

which means I meet
the best clients.

I would never jeopardize
my position here.

Then why work for Mr. Clarke?

Beauty costs money, Detective.

And men like their women
beautiful, don't they?

Do you know of anyone that may
have wished Miss Heloise dead?

Mr. Clarke does like
to watch her suffer.

I think he was trying to poach
our seamstress.

Eunice Parks?

I saw her leaving Mr. Clarke's
office two weeks ago.

Nicolette, get dressed.

You're accompanying me to dinner
with the buyer from Harrods.

The detective
can see himself out.

That is if he isn't too busy
ogling young girls

to solve a murder.

Miss Heloise --

I'm sorry, but this has been
a very trying time.

14 to 1?

I wouldn't bet on Bobby
at 100 to 1.

25 cents on Simon.

14101.

I can't say I'm surprised.

Poor wee Bobby's going to have
his lunch served to him.

Higgins.

Did I just hear you say that the
odds are running against my son?

You know, sir, I'm not sure
what the lads are thinking.

I'm sure they're just blinded
by Simon's height.

Hey, Goliath's height didn't
mean anything to David,

did it, sir?

And who did you bet on?

I was just gonna lay my money
on Bobby.

BRACKENREID:
Were you, now?

How much?

1 O cents?

I mean, 25 cents, sir.

That is...one dollar?

That sounds about right.

Should I put the kettle on, sir?

Good lad.

Please come in.

I understand you attempted to
poach Miss Heloise's seamstress.

Miss Parks came to me,
unsolicited.

Oh.
Why was that?

She wished to sell me a design.

A very innovative one,

with the condition that
I hire her as head designer.

And you declined.

CLARKE:
On the contrary.

I was thrilled.

But when I went to the patent
office to register the designs,

I found them already spoken for.

Miss Parks obviously stole
the designs from Heloise

and tried to pass them off
as her own.

I couldn't very well hire her
after that.

I see.
You've brought the drawings?

Yes.

It's all worked out,

since that is the very corset
that killed that lovely model.

I couldn't weather a scandal
like that.

Eunice Parks
was the designer of the corset.

Miss Heloise stole the drawings
from her.

Henry!

Sir?

Arrest Eunice Parks for
the murder of Isabelle Young.

She's the one?

I believe so, sir.

You believe.

So, you have no proof, then.

Well, not as of yet.

I'm hoping to find the original
corset that Miss Parks sewed

and compare it to the one
that killed Isabelle Young.

You're hoping to prove
that she sewed them both.

Precisely.

I'll have George search
her boardinghouse

as soon as possible.

Crabtree
is otherwise occupied today.

Let me take care of it for you.

Oh, thank you, sir.

BRACKENREID:
Higgins!

I did not make the corset
that killed Isabelle.

Miss Heloise stole your design.

Your revolutionary design.

And you were seeking revenge.

I created it under her roof.

It was her right
to assume ownership.

Where is the original prototype?

I cannot say.

Constables are searching
your boardinghouse as we speak.

It will be found.

I assure you it will not.

I imagine I'm free to leave.

Yes, yes, for now.

Miss Parks,

I'm afraid I'm going to
have to ask you to stay

a little longer.

You were right.

It was hidden in the one place
no man would think to look.

Thank you, Julia.

I'm hoping to prove that she
sewed the killer corset as well.

Perhaps your eye for fashion
will see something that I can't.

DR. OGDEN: Well, the corset
Miss Parks was wearing

is of exceptional quality.

It was most certainly sewn
by hand.

That would fit her story.

DR. OGDEN:
Whereas the stitching

on the corset
that killed Miss Young

lacks the same artistry.

I'm sorry, William,

but I see no indication that
they were sewn by the same hand.

Perhaps they weren't sewn
by the same hand at all.

I fail to see the point of this.

This aberration in the stitch
is the same

as that of the corset
that suffocated Isabelle Young.

You interrupt the flow of
the pedal at the same interval.

Eunice Parks,

you built a murderous device
with intent to kill.

I am charging you with
the murder of Isabelle Young.

I never meant
for Isabelle to die.

I didn't know
she was wearing the corset.

I was sent out
to buy more champagne.

I still don't know why
Miss Heloise wasn't modeling it.

It was custom-made for her.

It fit her like a glove,
just the day before.

TENNANT:
She didn't model the corset

because she was too fat
to fit into it.

Good day, Miss Tennant.

I wonder, do you recall exactly

why Miss Heloise chose
not to model that corset?

Of course I remember.

Nicolette tried her best,

but she just couldn't squeeze
Miss Heloise into it.

It was rather comic.

And what happened then?

I volunteered to wear it,

but, no, it had to be Isabelle,
as always.

- You volunteered?
- TENNANT: Of course.

I was the only one
who never got to wear it.

MURDOCH:
How do you mean?

Nicolette tried it on the day
before the fashion parade.

But I never got my turn

because Miss Parks came in
all of a sudden

and barked at Nicolette
to take it off right away.

I don't know what all the fuss
was about.

Tighter, Charlotte.
Tighter.

-[ Hands clap]
- What are you doing?

Take it off.

This is for Miss Heloise to wear
and she alone.

[ Gasping ]

You knew the corset
would suffocate

whomever was to wear it.

You offered to help
Miss Heloise put it on,

pretended that it was
too small for her,

knowing that Miss Young

would be selected to wear it
in her place.

You sent Miss Parks out
for more champagne,

ensuring that she wouldn't
be there to foil your plan.

You intended to trigger
the mechanism yourself,

but the brick beat you to it.

Detective,
the last thing I would want

is to harm the reputation
of the House of Heloise.

No, just relieve Miss Young
of her position

so that you could become
top model.

I can't deny that has happened.

You murdered
an innocent young woman

for free dinners
and the company of gentlemen?

I didn't throw the brick,
Detective.

I didn't make the corset.

I didn't even lace it
on Isabelle.

No.

You just manipulated events

to be sure that Miss Young would
be the one wearing the corset.

I played a prank
on a vain woman.

I hardly think that
to be a hanging offense.

Bobby is smaller than Simon.

That needs to be addressed
in the rules.

Sir, what would have?

Should Simon fight
the whole thing

with an arm tied
behind his back?

Well, that's a start.

Sir, you can't be serious.

Well, obviously,
not the whole fight,

but the first round.

It's to be a fair fight,
remember?

Sir, if that's the way
it's going to be,

Simon won't fight at all.
Isn't that right, Simon?

Bobby won't fight if he's
already lost before he starts.

Will you, Bobby?

Crabtree.

Lads.

Boys.

Here's a penny each.

Get yourself an ice cream.

Thank you.

What do you say, Simon?

Thanks.

CRABTREE:
Off you go, lads.

Why don't you and I have a go,
Crabtree?

Oh, sir, I couldn't.

I've got tennis elbow.

You don't play tennis.

Technically, it was
a football injury, sir, but...

You don't play football either.

Sir, I was hit with a hockey
puck, in the elbow, as a child.

It's never fully...

It's a pity Eunice Parks

will never see
her talents recognized.

And what will happen
to Nicolette Green?

Ajury will likely see
a pretty young woman

and not the devil inside.

She may likely get away with it.

That's a pity.

That corset
was quite innovative.

I would have bought one myself,

minus the murderous mechanism,
of course.

I find it difficult
to feel sorry for Miss Heloise.

She really is
a most unpleasant woman.

William.

It's not an easy feat to rise
to the top of one's profession.

You did with grace.

Yes, but not all women are
afforded the same advantages.

When a woman like Miss Heloise
fights her way up the ladder,

she must keep fighting
lest she lose everything.

I don't think
she's lost quite everything.

Rumor has it

that she and Mr. Clarke
have reignited their romance.

Rumor has it?

Seamstresses can be
such gossips.

DR. GRACE:
Lillian.

I can see how it looked.

I don't blame you
for doubting me.

I understand
why you did what you did.

I'm glad to hear it.

But you must understand, Emily,

my suffragist sisters
are all I have.

DR. GRACE:
I do understand.

It just sometimes
the way you behave...

you frighten me.

I frighten you?

You will do anything
for the cause.

Not just for the cause.

I doubt I have your passion.

MOSS:
You do.

You lead by example.

DR. GRACE:
It doesn't feel like enough.

Then do more.

Lead by action instead.

I want to go corset-free.

Now, that I can help you with.