All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - S08E11 - All That Glitters - [BD][1080p][x265 10-bit][AAC 5.1]_Track05

Let's hope they honor it.

I got it from home.

It was a present
from the mother-in-law.

All I needed to do was remove
the atrocity that was in it.

What is that, sir?
Mahogany?

Well, it's certainly one of
the more exotic woods.

Yes, it's too dark for teak.

Why are the two of you talking
about the frame

when it's the painting
that merits attention?

I think your use of color
is extraordinary.

BRACKENREID:
You needn't flatter me, Doctor,

but why exactly do you say so?

With this painting, I see
a creative vision taking hold.

You seem to be capturing
the essence of the North Woods

and not just the actual of it.

BRACKENREID: Well,
it's not half bad for a copper.

MURDOCH:
I'm curious, sir.

Why did you use blue and pink
for the trees?

BRACKENREID:
Creative vision, Murdoch.

Like Dr. Ogden just said.

Oh, and I ran out of the green.

George.
Look at this one.

He's put a few away already.

Oh.
He's coming right for us.

Most drunks head the other way
when they see us.

CRABTREE: He's too pickled
to know if he's coming or going.

Well, I'm off duty.

CRABTREE: Getting
an early start today, sir?

Eagle.

What's that?

Eagle?

Eagle.

What?

Eagle flight.

Sir, are you all right?

Eagle.

I can't make out
what he's trying to say.

I've. . .been. . murdered.

CRABTREE: Sir?

Sir?

HIGGINS:
He's out cold, George.

CRABTREE:
He's gone cold, Henry.

He's dead.

We thought he was just
three sheets to the wind, sir,

then we realized he was
trying to tell us something.

I've. . .been murdered.

And then he died.

Right at our feet, sir.

Thank you, Henry.

Doctor?

Well, if we can consider the
constables' account accurate,

he may well have died
from a seizure.

Edward Graham.

Surveyor for the Timiskaming
and Northern Ontario Railway.

Sir, and his appointment book
has a meeting for today

at 5:00 with C.A.M. at MD&A.

I have no idea
what that could mean.

All right, gentlemen,
let's notify his next of kin.

I can't imagine it, Detective.

He only just arrived home
this morning,

unexpected at that.

He was so excited, so happy.

I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Graham.

I understand
your son was a surveyor.

Yes.

He was under contract
to the Ontario government

for the new Northern Railway.

You say his visit
was unexpected.

Do you have any idea
why he returned to Toronto?

I don't.

All he told me was that our
fortunes were about to change.

- How so?
- MRS. GRAHAM: He didn't say.

He hurried right out
to take care of some business.

He returned with a small parcel
and put it in his suitcase.

And then what happened?

He was so happy.

He took a drink to celebrate,

which surprised me,
him knowing I don't approve.

I scolded him for that.

Oh, dear Lord, my last words
to him were in anger.

Mrs. Graham, what time
would this have been?

Around midday, I believe.

I wonder
if any of these abbreviations

mean something to you.

MRS. GRAHAM:
MD&A.

That could very well be
Murphy's Dining & Alehouse

just down the road.

Edward liked to socialize there.

And C.A.M.?

I couldn't say.

Thank you.

Just one final question,
Mrs. Graham.

What does "eagle flight" mean
to you?

Nothing at all.

[ Door closes ]

Detective.

Doctor.

The only physical evidence
I've found

is a venous congestion
of the brain.

I'm inclined to believe
he may have been poisoned.

Doctor, have you the flask

that Mr. Graham had
in his possession?

I do.

According to his mother,

Mr. Graham took a drink,

presumably from this flask.

[ Sniffs]
Whiskey.

Approximately one hour
prior to collapsing dead

on the station house steps.

There are a number of poisons
that could manifest the same way

as in Mr. Graham.

I'll endeavor to determine which
one was put into his whiskey.

Thank you.

So, Graham came here because
he knew that he'd been poisoned?

Why didn't he go
to the hospital?

Well, sir, if he believed
he'd been poisoned,

perhaps he wanted to alert
the authorities?

What's this "eagle flight"?

The last words that Graham
uttered before his death.

BRACKENREID: You know, Murdoch,
that makes perfect sense.

There's a brand of whiskey
called Eagle's Flight.

Horrible stuff.

He was obviously trying to tell
Crabtree how he'd been poisoned.

Sir, I believe you may be right.

Oh, Well.

Sirs, Mr. Graham's suitcase.

Thank you, George.

It's locked.
Do you have a key?

No, sir.
Mrs. Graham didn't have the key.

However, if you'll allow me.

Let the dog see the rabbit.

BRACKENREID: Thinking of a
change in profession, Crabtree?

No, sir.
Just trying to hone my skills.

Oh.

CRABTREE:
I've almost got it there now.

BRACKENREID:
Crabtree, move it.

- Sir, I've almost got it.
- BRACKENREID: Move!

There you go.

I softened it up for you.

BRACKENREID:
Well.

There doesn't seem to be
anything of any importance.

Graham's mother did say that
he stowed something in here.

Just a moment, sir.

The outer dimensions of the case
appear to be much larger

than the inner ones.

Sir, a secret compartment,
perhaps?

I love a secret compartment.

Not so secret anymore.

A hand-drawn map.

Likely of the area
Graham had been surveying

for the Northern Ontario
Railway.

Look what we have here.

Sirs, this is what Mr. Graham
must have been talking about

when he said their fortunes
were going to change.

Or perhaps it was money
he was planning to use

in his upcoming meeting
with C.A.M.

Edward Graham?

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

Constabulary?
What's this about?

Sir, Mr. Graham is dead.

What?

But I was to have met him here
today.

MURDOCH:
Yes.

And you are?

My name is
Charles Arthur McCool,

MP for the Nipissing Region.

C.A.M.

- You're a Member of Parliament?
-lndeed, sir.

What was Mr. Graham's business
with you?

Oh, I do not know.

I've never met the man.

But you agreed
to a meeting with him?

Well, I knew him by name.

He wrote a report that led to

a change in the route
of the Timiskaming Railway.

What was this change?

Well, he proposed that it run
due north of North Bay

to Dymond instead of along
Lake Timiskaming to Haileybury.

MURDOCH:
And you supported that?

I took his advice.

Were you expecting recompense?

Exactly what are you
insinuating?

Sir, Mr. Graham was found

with a great deal of money
in his possession.

Bribery?

How dare you accuse me
of such chicanery?

I'm simply trying to ascertain
the facts.

I'll have you know
that I have never...

I have never accepted so much
as one red cent of dirty money.

Again, what was Mr. Graham's
business with you, then?

I am as curious as you,
Detective.

I believe the poison was put
into the victim's flask.

But any odor and taste is masked
by the cheapness of the whiskey.

So you can imagine
the difficulty I'm having.

I'd be happy to help.

Poisons have always been
a particular interest of mine.

Excellent.

I ordered a new nest of rats
to help with the testing.

When do we start?

Well, they arrive tomorrow.

Do you have a hidden talent
I'm unaware of?

I don't,
but I know someone who does.

CRABTREE:
Provincial records show

that one Harold Richmond
bought great tracts of land

in and around Haileybury.

The original proposed terminus
for the railway line.

Where might we find
this Mr. Richmond?

His residence is listed
in Haileybury.

Haileybury is where Mr. Graham
had been staying

while surveying.

Perhaps they knew one another?

Richmond would have lost
a lot of money

after Graham changed the
proposed routes of the railway.

Right, then.

Pack your bags.

You two are off to Haileybury.

MURDOCH:
What have you there, George?

My pillow, sir.

They'll be pillows
in Haileybury.

Yes, but this is my pillow, sir.
I can't sleep a wink without it.

I discovered that
on our trip to Newfoundland.

You realize we'll be trekking
through the woods, George.

Oh, yes, exactly, sir.

All the more reason to bring it.

Oh.

MAN: All aboard to North Bay
and points beyond!

Sir, the only time
I've been up this way before

was to visit my Aunt Nettle.

Not nearly as exciting
as this trip.

George, you do not have an aunt
in Haileybury?

Well, not anymore, sir.

She moved back to Newfoundland.

Why?

She couldn't stand the mainland,
sir.

Terrified of moose.

BROWN: Excuse me.
Pardon me.

Pardon the disruption,
gentlemen.

Jagger Brown's the name.

Crabtree, George Crabtree.

This is
Detective William Murdoch.

A detective.

Well, I'll have to mind myself,
then, mustn't I?

I'm a prospector.

It's not an easy life,

but if you know your way
around a claim,

you can make
one heck of a living.

What are you searching for?

Oh, Detective, the true
prospector is not out

in search
of one single substance.

Nay, the prospector roams,
like the hunter of the plains,

waiting until his prey
is discovered to strike.

MACK: You're no prospector.
You're a damn greenhorn.

Excuse me?

What's a greenhorn?

A gink who thinks he knows
something about prospecting.

They shouldn't let the likes
of you out of the city.

MURDOCH: Excuse me,
but regardless of experience,

I believe everyone has
an equal right to prospect

as he wishes, ma'am.

MACK:
Don't call me that.

The name's Mack.

Oh.

My apologies, Mack.

I wonder, when we reach
the end of the line,

could you direct us
to Haileybury?

You can tag along.

You haven't said much.

The strong, silent type.

I like that in a man.

DR. OGDEN:
Inspector, I took the liberty

of entering your painting

into an amateur competition
at the Littlewood Gallery.

I'm sure it will be
well-received.

Julia.

Stand down, Doctor.

DR. OGDEN:
I see you found my note.

I did, and I forbid it.

I really feel
you're overreacting.

- Your painting is quite lovely.
- Any fool can see

that my painting
doesn't belong on the wall

with the likes of these.

I mean, look at them.
Even the leaves are perfect!

What does that matter?
You have just as much right

to share your efforts
with the public.

I don't see the harm in it.

The harm, Doctor,
is that I will be humiliated.

- I wish I could convince you.
- Well, you can't.

THOMSON:
I couldn't help but overhear.

I must say,
I agree with the lady.

Who are you?
Are you a painter?

Why, yes.
I painted this sign right here.

But I'm also a student of art.

Your painting is the best
I've seen so far.

Are you having me on?

Not at all.

Yours is the only original
of the bunch.

DR. OGDEN: That's very nice
of you, young man.

Unfortunately, the inspector
seems to have made up his mind.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Hold your horses, Doctor.

Perhaps I should share
my efforts with the public.

So you will accept his critique,
but not mine.

I've always been a big believer
in consensus, Doctor.

Sir.

Sir, you've no tie or collar.

No need, George.

This here's our guide.

There aren't enough horses
for all of us,

but a couple of donkeys
should do the trick.

[ Donkey braving 1

Here we are.

Leave it to the Newfoundlander
to catch a fish.

Excellent work, George.

CRABTREE: Perhaps you could gut
it, sir, as were I caught it.

These ought to sweeten it
right up.

Who'd have thought you'd find
wild parsnips in these parts?

MACK:
You don't want to be doing that.

What?
They're just parsnips.

Those are not parsnips.
That's kaagaaiminj.

Ka-- Excuse me?

MURDOCH:
Kaagaaiminj.

That's Algonquin
for water hemlock.

Highly poisonous.

It can be identified
by the vein traveling inward

to the notch of the leaf.

You know Algonquin.

MURDOCH:
Oh, a bit.

Enough to trade.

I was a lumberjack
a long time ago.

Say, did you happen to guide
a man named Edward Graham

last Tuesday?

Traveling from Haileybury
to the train.

I guide many people.
I don't ask names.

Over here, Georgie.

Let's gut that fish together.

[ Howling 1

Sir.

Sir, do you hear that?

Wolves, George.

Miles away.

Miles away?

Mm-hmm.

Very good.

[ Rustling, twittering ]

Sir, that wasn't miles away.
Did you hear that?

It's probably raccoons, George.

Raccoons.

Sharp teeth, though, sir.

And ornery, raccoons.

-[ Calling ]
- Oh, what was that?

It's nature, George.
Nothing more than that.

- Just nature.
- Nature.

Well, I'm not sure
I care for it.

[Calling]

MURDOCH:
Thank you.

I wonder if you happen to know
a Harold Richmond.

Everybody around here
knows Richmond.

Keeps me in business.

- He frequents the inn?
- Regularly.

He'll likely be in later,

strutting about the place
like a peacock.

And another man, Edward Graham,
do you know him?

Sure.
He keeps a room here.

Oh, I'll be needing his key
as well.

No.

Sir, Mr. Graham is dead.

I'm a police detective
investigating his murder.

I demand you relinquish that key
at once.

You pay his bill,
you get his key.

How much does he owe?

$26.37.

Sir, what if we get caught?

We don't have $26.

Well, nor do we have the
authority to break and enter.

-[ Click]
- Ah.

Excellent work.

Sir, is this
surveying equipment?

Yes, George.

The drawer is locked, sir.

That shouldn't be a problem
for you, George.

This is all
prospecting equipment.

Not uncommon to find
in these parts.

CRABTREE:
Got it, sir.

That's odd.
It's empty.

MURDOCH:
I wonder.

CRABTREE:
What does it mean?

MURDOCH:
I have no idea.

A code of some sort?

It's possible,

but without knowing
the orientation

or knowing
what these symbols mean,

it's impossible to know
what Mr. Graham was recording.

Well, sir, that symbol
looks like the moon.

And that's the symbol for man.

Do you suppose he could have --

No, George.

I don't suppose that Mr. Graham
had encountered moon men.

No.

I was thinking more along
the line of astronomy.

Oh.

Either way, sir,
it must be important.

Otherwise why would he have hid
that map in his suitcase

and these symbols locked away
in the drawer here?

Indeed, George.
Right.

Lock these away in your room
and meet me downstairs.

We need to speak
with Harold Richmond.

Sir.

Yes, I knew Graham.

I couldn't stand that bastard,
and I'm not sorry he's dead.

Why is that?

I staked my fortune on the land
all around Haileybury.

The railroad was supposed to end
right here,

so I bought up everything

that wasn't on
the Indian reservation.

Then that lunatic Graham
had the line rerouted.

Why does that make him
a lunatic?

Because it makes no sense.

Look, either Graham was
an incompetent surveyor

or a lying thief

who falsified his reports
for his own purposes.

What purposes would those be?

RICHMOND:
I don't know,

but I've hired my own surveyors
to find out.

Mr. Richmond, is there anybody
who can confirm your whereabouts

for Thursday evening past?

No.

I was at home.

I haven't been in Toronto
in months,

if that's what you're asking.

When did you last see
Edward Graham?

I'm not sure.
Some weeks ago.

Are you accusing me
of killing him?

Did you?

Of course not.

I didn't get rich
by being stupid.

All right,
do you know of anyone else

who may have been upset
with Mr. Graham?

He would know.

That's Frank Gowdy.

He was Graham's assistant.

Dead?

Dear Lord.
How?

That's what
we're trying to ascertain.

Do you have any idea why
Mr. Graham traveled to Toronto

earlier this week?

He didn't say.
He left quite suddenly.

I assumed
it was a personal matter.

He had family in the city.

Did he have any enemies
you know of?

GOWDY: [ Chuckles]
More than a few.

A lot of people were counting on
that railway coming through.

Any of them that may have
wished him dead?

Harold Richmond, I'm sure.

And there was a woman
that he used to, uh, see.

Terribly jealous.

Mad as a wildcat
when he left her.

She even followed him
down to Toronto.

But she lives here?

She's drinking right there
at the end of the bar.

There he is.

My big, strong copper-

Miss -- Mack.

I wasn't talking about you.

I understand that you were
in an intimate relationship

with Mr. Graham.

So?

Well, I regret to inform you

that Mr. Graham
was recently found dead.

Murdered.

Well, I didn't do it.

So, George, what about a drink?

You were in Toronto.

No flies on you, eh?

We were on the train together.

I also understand

that Mr. Graham had recently
parted ways with you.

I don't know what you heard,
but I parted ways with him.

And none too soon.

George, a drink?

Perhaps another time, Mack.

Sir, her manners could use
some refinement to be sure,

but do you think
she actually killed the man?

She did not seem
at all surprised

at the news
of Mr. Graham's murder.

And, George,

poison is traditionally
a woman's weapon.

Excuse me, would I be able to
borrow this board?

You will bring it back?

Yes.

Even a small drop of the liquid
from Graham's flask

was enough to kill this rat.

There was no burning
of the mucous membranes,

so we can rule out arsenic,
cyanide, strychnine.

I activated carbon I made
from ground nutshells

and gave it to this rat.

He's still alive.

So, the poison is not
a strong acid.

Which would also rule out
alkali, iron,

lithium, ethanol, and the like.

Leaving us with a multitude of
plant-based poisons to consider.

The rat is still
in metabolic acidosis.

Have you considered treating it

with an antidote
of sodium bicarbonate?

Of course.
If the rat responds,

it would narrow down
the type of plant.

Thank you.

Come here, little fella.

Let's see
if we can make you better.

Harold Richmond admits
to wanting Edward Graham dead.

He would have lost
a potential fortune

with the rerouting
of the railway.

CRABTREE:
Mr. Gowdy?

MURDOCH:
No apparent motive.

Although he did have had
the most access

to Mr. Graham's flask.

And the woman Mack, sir,
she was in Toronto,

and jealousy
is a powerful motive.

MURDOCH:
Indeed, George.

Let's hope Dr. Grace
is having some luck

identifying the poison.

Once we discover
what killed Mr. Graham,

we'll be in a better position
to discover who killed him.

Sir, I wonder if we could
continue this tomorrow.

Oh, yes, of course, George.

It'll be good to sleep with
a roof over one's head, sir.

I didn't catch a wink
last night.

The pillow didn't help?

MACK:
Hello, there, Constable.

You said,
"Perhaps another time."

Well, that time has come.

Oh, my.

[ Rattling ]

George?

CRABTREE:
Oh, one moment.

Oh, sir.

Thank God it's just you.

Who were you expecting?

Sir, that woman Mack
has been trying to seduce me.

I found her there in my bed

when I got back to my room
last night.

Oh.

Sir, I escorted her out
directly.

Make no doubt about it.

She broke in here, George?

Sir, it was quite unexpected.

I realize that women find me
quite the catch,

but that is no way to win a man.

George, is it possible that
she was after something else?

Sir, I'm not making it up.

I found her right there
in my bed.

I've spent the whole night
in a chair against the door.

I didn't catch a wink.

George, she went to the trouble
of breaking the door.

Is it possible that her motives
may have extended

beyond the charms
of one George Crabtree?

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, sir.

Graham's papers are gone.

No.

It appears our little friend's
breathing has improved.

Well, that narrows our search.

It would likely be among
one of the poisonous plants

that grow here in Ontario.

What about wolfsbane?

No.
That would have caused asphyxia.

Hmm.

White baneberry?

The symptoms fit,

but it's the fruit
that's poisonous

and it's out of season.

Conium Heculatum.

No.

No, it's not hemlock.

But Cicuta Maculata.

Water hemlock.

Difficulty breathing,
convulsions.

That matches the symptoms.

Emily, I daresay
we've found our poison.

DR. GRACE:
Thank you, Julia.

My pleasure.

I'll telegraph the detective
immediately.

Ah, Doctor.
There you are.

Is something the matter,
Inspector?

BRACKENREID:
Oh, on the contrary.

My painting is about to be
judged later today.

I was wondering
if you would come with me.

I should be honored.

Where's the map?

What map?

The map you stole
from Constable Crabtree's room.

What?

You were in Toronto
when Graham died.

You were alone
in Constable Crabtree's room.

You are, at the moment,
our prime suspect.

George's door was open.

I thought it was an invitation.

CRABTREE: Sir, I assure you,
it was firmly locked.

It was open. I swear.

Whatever you may think,

I don't normally have to force
myself into a man's bed.

If you didn't open the room,
then who did?

I passed the greenhorn
in the hallway

on the way up to George's room.

Jagger Brown?

Mr. Brown, the detective would
like to have a word with you.

Certainly.
Um --

GOWDY:
No, my money!

- Money!
- Money!

[All shouting]

Give me my money!
Give me my money!

Ruffians!

Give me!

Mine!

- That money belongs to me.
- George.

All right, all right, all right.

Where are the maps you stole?

What maps?

Empty your pockets, Mr. Brown.

They're gone.
Where could they have gone?

No, wait, wait.
Aah!

Aah! Aah!

Roses in a vase.

Seen that before.

Yes, but there's no denying it
was painted by a capable hand.

These are quite good, I suppose.

I rather like this one.

This one?

It's all just lines.

Not even a tree in sight.

Where's my painting?

Perhaps it's been moved.

You there,
what's happened to my work?

Did no one from the gallery
inform you?

It's been stolen,
I'm sorry to say.

Stolen?

How the bloody hell
did that happen?

How many other paintings
were taken?

Only yours.

I suppose it could be taken
as a compliment.

I always said
it was the best in show.

A thief with good taste
is a thief nonetheless.

Get Worsley onto it.

Do you suppose
I'm still eligible

for the $10 prize?

MURDOCH: You have yet to provide
a satisfactory explanation

for all of the money
in your briefcase, Mr. Gowdy.

GOWDY: My affairs
are none of your business.

Perhaps
as the new lead surveyor,

you required a healthy bribe
from Mr. Richmond

to return the railway here.

I did not require a bribe

to return the railway
to its correct path.

Mr. Richmond's contribution was
an added bonus.

You were going to redirect
the railway here regardless?

GOWDY:
Of course.

I don't know why Graham was
so intent on moving it.

His plans made no sense.

He even falsified our surveys
to support his proposed route.

Did you confront him about this?

I've only just discovered it
since going through his files.

I have no idea why he did it.

CRABTREE:
Sir.

Thank you, Mr. Gowdy.

I'd like to speak with you
further about this.

At your service.

Sir, Mr. Brown here claims
the maps are gone.

He says
they must have been stolen

in the kerfuffle just now.

In any case, they're not on him.

BROWN: Not that I could make
heads nor tails of them anyway.

Good luck to whoever's got them.

Thank you.

Mr. Brown, you were acquainted
with Mr. Graham, were you not?

Never met the man.

- I beg to differ.
- Beg all you want.

I didn't know him,
and you can't prove it.

This telegram proves otherwise.

You were seen
with Mr. Graham in Toronto.

Seen?
Who saw me?

MURDOCH:
You were seen.

And, Mr. Brown, you know nothing
about prospecting.

What are you doing here?

And how did you know

Mr. Graham's maps
were important?

I was in the assayer's office
working on the books

when he came in.

- Graham?
- BROWN: Yes.

He had a nugget with him.

It must have been
the size of his fist.

I only stole the map.

I didn't murder anyone.

A nugget?
Nugget of what?

Silver, Detective.

Silver.

He told the assayer

there was plenty more
where that came from.

I knew it had to be
around here somewhere.

Right.
Mr. Brown, thank you.

You're free to go.

Sir,
I have to admit some confusion.

Dr. Grace's telegram ascertains

that Mr. Graham was indeed
poisoned by water hemlock.

Sir, how does that prove

that Jagger Brown was seen
with Graham in Toronto?

It doesn't, George.

The telegram makes no mention
of Mr. Brown.

Sir, you were bluffing.

I was prospecting, George.

At any rate,
Dr. Grace's findings proved

that Mr. Brown
could not be the murderer.

CRABTREE:
How so?

You don't want to be doing that.

What?
They're just parsnips.

He was going to feed us all
water hemlock.

He didn't know it was poisonous.

No.

But everyone else here does.

So, Mr. Graham rerouted
the railway

to protect his silver find.

Then why meet with a politician
in Toronto?

I mean, surely,
if he had falsified surveys,

that would be enough
for the government

to comply
with his recommendation.

I think it has something to do

with the native reservation,
George.

CRABTREE:
A bribe, sir?

Perhaps he bribed a Member of
Parliament to seize Indian land?

So he could lay claim to it
himself?

Which would mean
that there is silver somewhere

on the current reservation.

Which means whoever has the maps
knows about the silver

and where to find it.

And they're one step
ahead of us.

Excuse me.
May I see this?

You haven't given me
my chalkboard back yet.

Sir, we are police officers.

We will bring back
your chalkboard.

The symbols, George.

CRABTREE:
The crescent moon.

Silver.

There.

The northernmost point
of Long Lake.

Thank you.

Ah, Doctor.

I was just thinking

which of my other paintings
are good enough to be stolen.

The gallery found this.

My painting.

It seems the thieves
discarded it in the alley.

Ah, they stole it
for the fancy frame.

It appears so, but the painting
can be salvaged.

I know someone
who cleans canvases.

- He might be able to help.
- Forget it.

Bloody thieves were right.

What's the point in salvaging
something that has no worth?

- Inspector, I --
- Thank you, Doctor.

Now, if you don't mind,

I have quite a bit of work
to be getting on with.

Sir, how do you know
which way we should be headed?

Well, George, the bottom tip
of the crescent moon

was just north of the top edge
of Long Lake.

Yes, but, sir,
how do we know the silver

is not right in the middle of it
or at the top of it?

That's a good point, George.

We'll have to explore
the entire area.

Sir.

Look at that.

Could that be silver?

MURDOCH:
I believe it is, George.

CRABTREE:
Look at this.

There's a carved inscription.

"Edward Graham, 5 August 1902."

Graham staked a claim here.

There should be
four more of these

outlining the claim
in its entirety,

but they would be on stumps
still in the ground.

Sir, stumps like this one, sir.

But it's not his name.

M. McCarthy -- Mack.

September 7, 1902.

Edward Graham staked this claim,

and then Mack put her name
ahead of his.

CRABTREE: She was trying to jump
his claim.

Yes, George, I believe
Mack killed Edward Graham.

Sir.

I believe you're right.

I'm sorry, gentlemen,

but I have to protect my claim.

Edward Graham's claim has
no legitimacy.

Neither will yours.

This is Indian land.

Once the government sees
that there's silver here,

they'll see to it
that this land becomes fair game

and I will become
a very rich woman.

So of course you understand
when I have to do this.

No!

- Sir!
- MACK: Aah!

[Gun cocks]

I don't suppose
you want to share my wealth?

Oh, Well.

I'm so sorry,
but I have to shoot you, too.

[Gunshot]

-[ Gasps]
- Sir, you're all right.

- George?
- Sir, you're all right.

[Grunting]

The medicine woman here took
the bullet out of your shoulder.

You've been in delirium,
in and out,

but you're past the worst of it.

They've been very good
to us here, sir.

This man saved your life.

MURDOCH:
Thank you.

Thank you.

Migizi Pimise?

That's your name?

In English,

it means Eagle Flight,
doesn't it?

You know the properties
of water hemlock.

You poisoned Mr. Graham's flask

when you guided him
to the train.

Am I speaking the truth?

Why?

The silver.

If people found out,
then we would --

You would lose your home.

Can you deny
that you won't take it away?

Can you deny we won't be removed
from our land?

I can't,

but that's not
what's at issue here.

Go home!

- No.
- CRABTREE: Sir.

Gentlemen.
Please don't. Don't.

Then you will die here.

Your bodies never found.
Both of you.

Others will come for us.

- We will run.
- And they will chase you.

Migizi Pimise,
you are under arrest

for the murder of Edward Graham.

Sir, they saved our lives!

You have no authority here.

This is not your world.

We do not follow your laws.

Yes, you do.

Yes, you do,
and you are coming with me.

Will you add our two lives
to your conscience?

I am protecting my birthright.

And I am doing my duty.

As I had to try and do mine.

Go while you still have
your lives.

George, I don't...

- Sir. Sir.
- I don't...

-[ Knock on door]
- THOMSON: Inspector Brackenreid?

Oh, hello.

What can I do for you?

I'm sorry to disturb you,

but I was hoping
you might sell me

your painting
from the exhibition.

Sell it to you?

THOMSON:
If you would.

I'd like to try my hand
at the canvas.

Not to paint pale imitations
of the natural world,

but rather to paint its essences
as you do.

I'd be prepared to pay.

Oh.

Oh, well, I'm flattered,
but it's not for sale.

I'm thinking of re-entering it
in the next exhibition.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Hold your horses,
hold your horses.

The prize money was $10.

It's yours for 15.

15'?

Take it or leave it.

All right.

15.

Wise choice, Mister...

Thomson.
Torn Thomson.

Ah, well, Mr. Thomson, I hope
I can provide some inspiration.

Good day.

Good day to you, too.

[Laughs]

Bloody fool.

Inspector.

Mrs. Brackenreid is
on the telephone.

Something about
a missing picture frame.

Oh.
Oh, bloody hell.

Thank you.

Migizi Pimise turned himself in
yesterday.

I suppose he knew someone
would come looking for him.

And the people he was with?

They moved further north.

It won't go well for them,
will it?

The silver will draw prospectors
like moths to a flame.

Migizi Pimise started a fight

he couldn't possibly hope
to win.

Surely, they have a treaty
that will protect them.

Let's get you to bed.

Our government is made of men
of good conscience.

Let's hope they honor it.