All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - 05x13 - Twentieth Century Murdoch.AFG.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Gentlemen.

I hope you had a Merry Christmas.

Good morning, sir. Are you feeling better?

Christmas seems to hit me
harder each year, Murdoch.

Sorry I dropped out early last night.

I missed Margaret's
rum pudding, apparently.

It was delicious, as always.

I told you, I did nothing wrong!

- George?
- Sir.

Gideon Turner.

We found him up on Bloor
street with a man in a headlock.

He was about to throw himself
off the Rosedale Valley bridge.

How do you know that, Mr. Turner?

I'm afraid I can't tell you that.

Christmas was yesterday, Mr. Turner.

Now, either you tell us the truth,

or you'll find my very own personal version

of boxing day in our cells.

No, no, you can't.

I must prevent a murder at 10:00.

Oh, lord. I... I have to go.

- Sir!
- Get him!

Get after him, Crabtree!

Seth Morgan.

It's him! It's Santa Claus.

George, after him!

George.

Mr. Turner, explain yourself.

Murdoch.

Hey. This man saved my life.

It's true, sir.

Mr. Turner sent the shot wild.

There'll be plenty more
of that back at the station

if you don't tell us how you
knew this was going to happen.

I saw it happen.

I've been to the future.

You've been to the future?

How'd you manage that, then?

I can't tell you that.
I've said too much already.

Bloody hell. He's crackers.

I lost him, sir. He
escaped down a coal chute.

He left this behind.
It's a piece of his suit.

All right, George.

Escort Mr. Morgan to the
station for questioning

and see if you can lift any finger marks

off this casing.

Sir.

I'll have some constables
search the coal chute.

Thank you.

Right, then.

Do you have any more future
crimes you'd like to prevent?

No, but I have to stop a boy

from being run over by a carriage

at the corner of queen and parliament.

- Ah. What time?
- 3:15.

Wonderful. That gives us time to chat.

How did you know Mr. Morgan

would be at that location
at that exact time?

I've already told you.

You have not been to
the future, Mr. Turner.

And if you persist in this delusion,

I will commit you for observation

at the provincial lunatic asylum.

You can't do that. I'm completely sane.

I never saw Mr. Turner before.

How did he know you were gonna be there?

I have no idea.

I was just on my way to meet someone.

Who?

I've been seeing certain married women.

- Which women?
- Could be any one of a dozen.

I have a weakness.

He maintains his belief
that he's been to the future.

Well, if he committed no crime...

I intend to have Dr. Roberts conduct

a full mental evaluation of Mr. Turner.

And Mr. Morgan?

He liked to seduce married women.

Oh.

Well, that gives us some insight

into who may have tried to shoot him.

12 husbands to pick from.

Not that he'll name any.

You didn't use your customary persuasion?

I didn't have the heart
to knock it out of him,

Christmas spirit and all that.

Sir?

I managed to find a partial
print on the shell casing.

Most likely a thumb mark
from when the shooter

inserted the bullet into the chamber.

Unfortunately, the rest
of the cartridge was clean.

Sir, according to Mr. Turner,

a boy is going to be
trampled by a horse at 3:15.

Should I make sure
that that doesn't happen?

George, I don't believe that anyone

has been traveling through time.

But something strange is going on.

- Take Henry.
- Sir.

Also, sir, one other thing.

As you know, this Sunday
is the turn of the century.

Yes.

Well, I was thinking about
asking Dr. Grace to accompany me

to the policemen's ball, but...

Oh.

She's a doctor, and I'm just a copper.

I just don't want to embarrass myself.

I don't want to embarrass her.

I think you should ask her, George.

- Really?
- Really.

It appears Mr. Turner

has a desperate need to help others.

It stems from feelings of inadequacy,

low self-worth.

But it is strange how he
knew about the shooting.

Yes.

Is it possible that he hired someone

to dress up like Santa Claus

and pretend to attempt to kill Mr. Morgan

all so that he could save him?

Mm.

People have been known to purposely create

desperate situations that
only they can resolve.

Hmm.

I'll keep him under observation.

Thank you, doctor.

No! You can't!

I have to rescue the boy!

The boy!

William?

Julia.

The nightmares started soon
after I was buried alive.

They became so bad, I was
afraid to sleep at night.

I can only imagine.

- So you came to see Dr. Roberts?
- Yes.

I agreed to an experimental treatment

which induced seizures.

That sounds drastic.

Yes, but it worked wonders.

I have nothing but sweet dreams now.

But if you're cured...

Oh, I'm no longer in treatment.

I'm here because I've
been studying psychiatry.

It's a fascinating field.

Then you might be
interested in what I'm up to.

Oh, and what is that?

Well, it's a curious case:

A man who believes he's been to the future.

He's quite convinced.

And he thinks he's something of a hero.

I believe the psychologist Emil Kraepelin

refers to patterns of
behavior as syndromes.

Perhaps this man is
suffering from hero syndrome.

But why the future?

Perhaps he wants to be a hero
with superhuman ability...

a superhero, as it were.

Hmm.

Well, you're welcome to observe
my investigation if you like.

I'd be delighted.

Superhero?

Yes, sir.

It would appear that Mr. Turner

may have set up the whole shooting

just so that he could stop it.

Seth Morgan will be relieved to hear that.

Murdoch, take a look at this.

I've been holding on to it for a few days.

Sir, they're offering you the
position of chief constable.

In Ottawa.

Not as big as this town, but prestigious.

That's quite an honor, sir.

Will you accept?

I don't know yet.

It's an administrative position.

I wouldn't really be a copper anymore.

When do you have to let them know?

By the New Year.

New century.

Detective Murdoch.

Teddy Nelson, the gazette.

I've heard you brought in a man

claiming to be from the future.

Is there any truth to that?

The man in question is
undergoing a full evaluation

at the provincial lunatic asylum.

Sir, everything happened
exactly as Turner said.

He may be from the future after all.

Uh... This is a police matter.

Hodge?

Sir, Higgins and I went down

to the corner of queen and
parliament, as instructed.

- We waited there till almost 3:30, sir.

We were about to pack it in when, suddenly,

Higgins sees this carriage
barreling down queen street

at considerable speed.

And then this urchin comes
bolting out of an alley, sir,

right into it's path.

- Was the boy hurt?
- No.

Mr. Turner was there to stop it.

Mr. Turner?

He came out of nowhere, sir,
scooped up the young lad,

and spirited him off to safety.

Where's Mr. Turner now?

He ran off.

We left him in ward c.

Which was locked, was it not?

Yes, but he jumped out of a window.

I only hope he's all right.

My goodness.

Do you have any idea
where he might have gone?

Well, he works with a
Professor named Harms.

I believe you can find him on Blair street.

Sir, look at this.

Mr. Turner.

What are you doing here?
You're not supposed to see this.

This... this is Professor Harms' machine.

Where is Professor Harms?

- He's in the future.
- The future?

Who are you?

Teddy Nelson, Toronto gazette.

Bloody hell.

What is this?

I'm sorry, Professor.

They came uninvited. I
tried to get them to leave.

Is that a time machine?

George, get Mr. Nelson out of here.

Sir, Mr. Nelson, please, if you will,

come with me.

Professor Harms, what is going on here?

What's going on

is that I'm engaged in
an important experiment,

and you're trespassing on my property.

I'm investigating the attempted murder.

Mr. Turner prevented this morning.

Gideon, you were instructed

never to interfere with the future.

How could I not, knowing what I know?

What laws have we broken?

To start with,

it appears that you've
violated the laws of physics.

I'm sorry, Detective,

but I cannot allow you to
interfere with the device

I've devoted my life to building.

I know my rights.

Provide me with a warrant,

or leave my premises immediately.

Those are your options.

But there is another.

When I was teaching at
the polytechnic in Zurich,

one of my students, an Albert Einstein,

suggested a radical way to
reconcile the laws of mechanics

with Maxwell's equations.

Not only was time inextricable from space,

but my mathematical derivation

suggested that it would be possible,

with sufficient energy,

to pass from one point in time

to a point in the distant future.

And you've succeeded in
doing this with this machine?

Yes.

You're telling me you've
traveled to the 20th century?

Only as far as 1912.

I cannot yet go beyond that.

But your man Mr. Turner

has now altered the very
future that you witnessed.

How do you reconcile that?

Yes. That is a problem.

A problem?

Perhaps more than one future exists.

Perhaps every time you travel,

the universe splits into
two possible futures.

What other explanation is there?

He's got a point.

Your Professor didn't go to the press.

The press found him.

Sir, perhaps that was the point,

to have Mr. Turner make
a show of stopping a crime

in public to attract the press.

But where's the profit in it?

I could see one person pulling a hoax

for the sheer sport of it, but
what about the rest of them?

The boy, the shooter?

What's in it for them?

Fraud is not without precedent.

Redheffer had his perpetual motion machine,

and P.T. Barnum displayed
the skeleton of a mermaid.

What would motivate a respected scientist

such as Professor Harms
to perpetrate such a fraud?

A deep-seated desire for fame, I imagine.

Even if his fraud was
certain to be exposed as such?

Or perhaps his desire for fame

exceeded his concern for his reputation.

I'm sorry. I, uh...

I don't mean to appear glib.

I'm trying to bend my analysis
to fit your assumption.

There is a more rational
explanation at hand.

What's that?

The time machine works.

Dr. Roberts, are you all right?

No, I...

I've been diagnosed
with Huntington's chorea.

The degenerative nerve condition.

It's heritable.

My father had it.

I'm terribly sorry.

Hmm.

One must play with the cards one is dealt.

I am...

I, uh... I'm sorry.

I have an appointment.

Please, see yourselves out.

So, William, what are you thinking?

I'm still convinced
that this is a deception

orchestrated by Professor
Harms and Mr. Turner.

But it seems extreme for Mr. Turner

to throw himself through a window

unless he really believed that
a boy's life was in danger.

Then we speak with Mr. Turner.

Mr. Turner,

how did you know the boy
was about to be trampled?

I saw it happen with my own eyes.

When you were in the future?

It was terrible.

I couldn't let it happen again. I couldn't.

And how did you know

Seth Morgan was about to be shot?

I saw that too. Same with the suicide.

Mr. Turner, most people
live out their entire lives

without witnessing such an event,

and yet you saw three,

all in a matter of hours.

How do you explain that?

I can't.

Maybe...

Maybe what, Mr. Turner?

Maybe God directed me.

Maybe God chose me to save them.

Do you believe him?

I believe that he believes.

How does Professor Harms fit into it?

Perhaps he has somehow
harnessed Mr. Turner's delusion.

William, I have to say,

this is exhilarating.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Dr. Grace, I hope I'm not interrupting.

Of course not. What a pleasant surprise.

Well, what I came to tell you,

unfortunately, I'm very busy now

that news of this time
machine has gotten out.

Time machine?

- How fascinating!
- Oh, yes.

But I was wondering if you would join me...

Of course. A time machine?

I would love to see it for myself.

Uh, n...

Imagine it, George.

Here we are at the dawn of a new century.

Really, after New Year's Eve,

it's just another day, is it not?

Well, I suppose in a way...

What if I were to travel to tomorrow

and come upon my future self?

I suppose your future self

would be expecting your past self,

having already traveled from
the past into the future.

Which would then be the present.

Excellent point.

Dr. Grace, would you accompany me to the...

Oh, George!

What did you see, Mrs. Haversham?

I've seen the future.

My future.

Thank you, Professor.

Amazing.

So it's settled.

We're ringing in the new
century with the Lamonte.

What fun!

I'm going to a meeting with Dr. Roberts.

What?

You're giving up your practice
of real medicine for psychiatry?

Darcy, this field has a
great deal of validity.

In fact, Dr. Roberts and I

are assisting Detective Murdoch on a case.

How long has that been going on?

It's a recent development.

I may be late for dinner.

You say you traveled to the year 1912.

Is that correct?

Yes.

What did you see?

The most wonderful thing.

My son. He was elected mayor.

Oh. That is something.

And that's not the half of it.

My daughter voted for him.

Can you imagine it?

We women shall have the vote.

Astounding.

She seems perfectly sincere.

As does Mr. Turner.

Do you think it's possible

for two people to share the same delusion?

There have been instances of mass delusion,

the witches of Salem
being an obvious example,

but this is quite different from that.

Murdoch!

I should go.

Sir?

I've decided to take the
chief constable position.

I wanted you to be the first to know.

Oh.

Congratulations, sir.

Then let's drink, shall we?

Station house number 4 won't
be the same without you, sir.

To the future.

Sirs, you should see all the people

outside Professor Harms' lab,

some of Toronto's highest and mightiest,

all lined up for a trip to the future.

He's offering time travel tours now?

Yes, sir. At $1,000 a ticket.

Well, that settles it, then.

This is no hoax, Murdoch.

No, it's a swindle.

Join me, Crabtree.

Just a short questionnaire

to ensure your fitness for the journey.

No, miss, you do not need
to change your clothing.

Uh, sir, I understand your impatience,

but everyone will get their opportunity.

No, sir, you can pay
Professor Harms directly.

It is indeed a once-in-
a-lifetime opportunity.

I myself have traveled

and can assure you, it's perfectly safe.

Inspector Murdoch.

You've had a change of heart?

You could say that.

How much money have you
made in the past two days?

The money is not for me.

The machine has to exist in the future.

It must be maintained.

Uh, bills. Taxes must be paid.

With sufficient money,

we should be able to travel
into the next millennium.

Imagine what the world
will be like in 2012.

You asked for a warrant. Here it is.

Uh, Detective.

If you don't believe it works,
put your faith to the test.

You're suggesting that
I travel to the future?

Why wait for the New Year
to see the 20th century?

Are you so incurious, Detective?

At the instant of transport,

you will momentarily lose consciousness.

You'll awaken on the other side in 1912.

You can stay as long as you like,

but you must return to the machine.

I knew it!

I knew you were coming!

You don't know who I am, do you?

Pardon my manners.

William Murdoch, Jr.

Welcome to 1912.

Uncle George said you'd be coming.

We'd better hurry. Come on.

We're doing an experiment.

Whoa!

William! You're going to miss it!

Coming!

I've got to go.

Come watch, but you can't
let them know you're here.

See you when I'm born.

So the candle causes the
air above it to heat up.

This causes negative pressure

relative to the air surrounding it

and forces the hot air up.

But because it's trapped
inside the enclosure,

the whole balloon rises up with it.

Wow!

That's incredible.

What did you see, Detective?

What was it like?

I saw the future.

The time machine is real.

One at a time, one at a time.

"Detective William
Murdoch of station house 4

confirmed yesterday that
he had visited the future

in Professor Harms' time machine."

The report is accurate.

Have you forgotten this is a swindle?

Actually, sir,

all of the money that
Professor Harms collects

goes into a trust fund

to maintain the machine in the future.

What was it like, sir?

Were there flying machines,
carriages with wings?

No, no, George.

I only went as far as 1912.

So what did you see, sir?

Well, uh...

Sir, I saw my son.

He was eight years old.

He was very excited to see me.

A son, sir? Well, congratulations.

I should like to have a son someday.

Who was the mother?

I'm here to see Detective Murdoch.

Which suggests other dimensions,

invisible to us

but lying as close as
the surface of our skin is

to the air above it.

And it all worked, except for
one troubling inconsistency.

What was that?

These equations led to infinities

within a finite space.

I was crushed, naturally.

Then it hit me.

What if time and space were
folded in upon themselves?

You know, like the pages of a book.

And if these folds lay
closely enough together...

With sufficient harmonic energy,

one could bridge one point in time

with another.

What are they talking about, sir?

Haven't the foggiest, Crabtree,

but whatever it is, I'm not buying it.

Sir, if a time machine exists,

then the attempt on Seth
Morgan's life was real.

Time machine or not,

a man was almost shot in a Toronto street.

He said the lads found this
at the bottom of a coal chute.

Yes, sir. When I fell, he got ahead of me.

He must have escaped down the chute

seconds before I arrived.

If the man wearing this
slid down the chute,

the stains would be
streaked all down one side.

These are in patches all over.

What are you suggesting?

Santa didn't slide down the chimney.

This is a decoy suit.

So, what, our shooter
was wearing a second suit?

And waited in hiding for us to
discover the suit he planted,

making us all believe he'd disappeared.

Sir, that's a very Murdochian observation,

if I may say.

Murdoch's not the only copper
in this station, Crabtree.

Get your coat.

Check that side, Crabtree?

So, sir, if this time machine
is just a big swindle...

Well, then, whoever was wearing the suit

was part of that swindle.

If we can find out who's
behind the shooting,

we'll be one step closer to proving it.

Try that one.

As you can see, we found a partial print

on the button of the
second Santa suit here.

George, based on the size,

I suspect that this
is a partial thumbprint.

Take a photograph of
this as well as the print

we lifted from the shell casing.

See how the two compare.

Sir. Will do.

Hello, William.

I understand you've been to the future.

But, William,

time travel violates
every principle of logic.

Perhaps,

but Professor Harms makes a
compelling mathematical case.

How does he explain the numerous paradoxes?

He speculates there may
be more than one future.

Every atom, every molecule duplicated?

I know it sounds absurd,

but the laws of physics remain unviolated.

But what about the law of conservation?

You say you saw yourself in the future.

That means that there were
two of you in one space.

Matter was created.

In fact, if every time
you traveled to the future,

you arrived one minute
prior to the time before,

you could theoretically
populate a city with yourself.

Perhaps matter wasn't created

so much as it was simply borrowed.

Borrowed?

Well, as long as your body
was in one future state,

it was necessarily not in another.

Perhaps the laws of conservation only hold

across all possible future states.

Or perhaps the laws of physics are wrong.

The only thing that is certain...

How long have they been at it?

Over an hour, sir.

Bloody hell.

Get me the lunatic asylum.

So Detective Murdoch said
he's been to the future?

That he did.

Did he say if they invented a
machine to match finger marks?

Henry, no machine will ever take the place

of the keen eye of the policeman.

We'll get to it.

By New Year's, I hope.

Speaking of New Year's, did
Dr. Grace accept your offer?

I haven't offered my offer yet.

'Cause she's avoiding you?

George, she comes from a better class.

All her friends do.

Henry, sometimes I think
you want me to remain

a miserable bachelor like yourself.

I have a date to the ball.

George, you're not even
comparing the photograph

to the finger marks.

Henry, I've seen it 100 times.

I have that finger mark
committed to memory.

I'll be dreaming of that finger mark

in my sleep tonight.

And you're wrong about Dr. Grace.

She is a modern woman,
and in the new century,

relationships will be defined
by a meeting of the minds,

and I, my friend, am a 20th-century man.

George.

Dr. Grace.

Emily.

I'm wondering of you would do
me the honor of accompanying me

to the New Year's policeman's ball?

Oh, George, I'm afraid I've
already made plans with friends.

You're welcome to join us, though.

I'm sure you'd like them.

No, no, that's fine.

You have a wonderful time, though.

You too.

Inspector Brackenreid's
call was hardly necessary.

He's concerned your trip to the future

is a psychotic delusion.

Is that possible?

Yes, although it would
require full-blown psychosis,

which you've shown no
symptoms to this point.

Ah.

Oh, my goodness.

Oh. Uh, George?

George, could you please get
the doctor a rag or something?

- Doctor.
- Thank you.

Thank you, George.

Goodness.

Have you spoken to any of
the other travelers yet?

Some.

And they appear sane as you and I.

It seems to lead to only one conclusion.

Professor Harms' machine works.

What do you think?

Dr. Roberts isn't doing much
to dissuade the Detective.

Bloody hell.

Crabtree, get Higgins to
fetch that Turner fellow.

And bring in Professor Harms' solicitor.

To what end, sir?

To do what we should have
done in the first place:

follow the sodding money.

So tell me about this trust, then.

It's completely legal.

All monies collected as payment
for voyages to the future

are to be deposited in a trust account

which is devoted entirely to
the operation and maintenance

of the time machine,

as long as the funds last.

How long is that?

At the moment, 112 years.

Mr. Denman,

you're telling me that Professor Harms

raised all this money to pay someone

to keep the lights running
through to the next millennium?

Essentially, yes.

And Professor Harms
himself has no access to it?

None whatsoever.

The money led nowhere.

Where are we with the
finger marks of the shooter?

No matches yet, sir.

Care to join us, Murdoch?

Have you found something new, sir?

Do I need to remind you that
this is your case as well?

Sirs...

Unlike you, I haven't been
fooled by a bloody con man.

Sir, Professor Harms and
Mr. Turner are not con men.

- Sirs!
- What is it, Higgins?

We found Mr. Turner.

Where is he?

In the morgue, sir.

His body was found in the Don River, sir.

That makes sense.

There are signs of
exposure on Turner's body:

His face, hands, and feet are frostbitten,

and he has skin damage.

This doesn't make sense.

I examined all his organs

and found that his kidney
was partially frozen.

Frozen?

Yes, and not only his kidney.

All his organs show signs
of having been frozen solid.

But the temperature has been above freezing

for the past few days.

I myself just saw him yesterday.

Perhaps Turner sent himself into the past,

and he's been dead for weeks, not days.

That was a joke, Murdoch. I was joking.

Sirs!

What is it?

I found a match for the cartridge

and the Santa suit button.

Who is it?

It's Dr. Roberts.

Dr. Roberts? Are you quite sure, George?

Quite, sir.

What the bloody hell is he doing

dressing up as Santa Claus
and taking potshots at people?

George, have Dr. Ogden
meet me at the asylum.

Good bit of police work there, Crabtree.

He does have a fatal condition.

Perhaps he's become somewhat unhinged.

That's possible.

What's this device?

This is the experimental
therapy I mentioned.

The cap is placed over the patient's head.

Then an electric current

is passed through the temporal lobes.

Inducing an instant seizure.

Yes, which makes the patient susceptible

to hypnotic suggestion.

Professor Harms.

Perhaps he's gone to the future, sir.

Well, if he has, he isn't coming back.

You have a son.

He is eight years old.

He is very excited to see you.

See you when I'm born.

I was never there.

All foolish fantasy.

Ah, an identical room.

It's all smoke and mirrors, me old mucker.

Bloody hell.

Dr. Roberts.

Sir, what is it?

Please, don't touch him.

He's not dead.

He looks bloody dead to me.

He is not.

He's been frozen alive.

I immersed him in liquid nitrogen.

It was the only way to save him.

We watched our father die of the disease.

I wasn't prepared to see
him suffer the same fate.

- You were brothers?
- Stepbrothers.

So you're not afflicted by the disease?

You're hoping that someone in the future

can revive him and cure him.

This is what you're raising money for.

The time machine was all a hoax.

Oh, not at the beginning.

But when I couldn't make it work,

I had to find a way to
finance this cryogenic chamber.

So you, Mr. Turner, and Dr. Roberts

constructed these elaborate scenarios

to make it appear as though.

Mr. Turner traveled to the future.

The attempted suicide,
the shooting, the boy,

they were all part of it.

I had to try to save my brother.

Reanimation from a
frozen state is possible.

I experimented with goldfish.

I froze them and thawed them.

They came back to life.

A fish is hardly a person.

He's my brother. What choice did I have?

And people's visions of the future?

Post-hypnotic suggestion.

We didn't mean to hurt anyone.

Really?

Then how did Turner end up
melting in a bloody ditch?

We needed to test the thawing process.

We couldn't revive him.

He wanted to do this.

I swear.

He wanted to be a hero.

Your brother took advantage of him.

If that's not murder,
then it's bloody close.

I've half a mind to thaw him out right now.

Leave him!

If you unplug the machine, he will die.

I take the responsibility for our actions.

Sir, it's not up to us to play God.

So we just leave him?

If it works, he'll live
much longer than we will.

Godspeed.

When Dr. Roberts hypnotized you,

what did you see?

Oh, it doesn't matter.

It was all in my imagination.

But what did you imagine?

The world as I would want it to be.

It's a pity it wasn't true.

I would love to live in a future
imagined by William Murdoch.

I should go.

Happy New Year, William.

Yes, Happy New Year, Julia.

Sir.

George?

Shouldn't you be attending
the New Year's celebration?

Uh...

I'm not sure I'm attending the party, sir.

Isn't Dr. Grace expecting you?

She's going to another, more high-class do.

She invited me to attend, but...

George, Dr. Grace invited you to a party,

and you don't plan on attending?

I just don't think I would belong, sir.

It's...

What about you? Are you going to the ball?

No. No, I wasn't planning on it.

George, the new century
deserves to be marked.

Might I suggest that you and I
attend the celebration together?

We were to be there half an hour ago.

I'm hurrying.

Damn it.

You don't want to do this, do you?

I'm happy to go to the Lamonte party.

That's not what I meant.

It's the Eve of a new century.

It is.

I think you should be with
whom you wish when it begins.

Uh, sir.

What are you two gawking at?

Sir, just taking in
station number 4's prowess

on the dance floor.

How's your packing coming along?

I'm not going anywhere.

I've changed my mind, Murdoch.

Sitting behind a desk in Ottawa

is no place for Thomas S. Brackenreid.

Besides, you lot couldn't
cope without me for a day.

Oh, sir, truer words were never spoken.

Less of your insolence, Crabtree.

Bloody hell.

Where'd Higgins get a
bit of fluff like that?

He's definitely punching above his weight.

Welcome back, sir.

Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.

Sir.

George...

Dr. Grace, what brings you here?

You do, George.

Me?

Well, I thought you had
a party with your friends.

None of my friends are
quite as stimulating as you.

Shall we get a drink?

Yes, absolutely.

Maybe we could squeeze in a
dance before the fireworks.

That sounds most splendid.

To refuse that promotion

is probably the most ridiculous thing

that you have ever done.

Sir, it's New Year's Eve.

I don't see what that has to do with it.

Well, I'm about to dance with my wife,

so if you don't mind...

Thank you, sir.

Julia.

Hello, William.

It's quite the turnout.

Yes.

All these policemen.

It would be a good night to commit a crime.

William...

I wanted to let you know...

That I intend to become a psychiatrist.

Oh.

Yes, just think of it:

The application of psychology

to the puzzles you're faced with.

It could be invaluable.

I can envision a whole new
field of criminal investigation.

Take the case of Mr. Turner.

I should have seen that he was in fact...

Julia.

You came her tonight to tell me that?

Yes, I... I thought that...

Darcy and I have parted.

And I want you to know

that I don't expect
anything from you, William,

but we could work together.

Perhaps we could discover
the psychological profile

of someone who would be most
likely to commit a crime.

You and Darcy have parted?

Yes.

Julia, I have seen the future.

William?

It was you.

Happy New Year.

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