All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - 09x00 - A Merry Murdoch Christmas.x264-[CDNtv].English.HI.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

(Christmas-like music)

- Julia.
- Mm-hm?

The driver.

I'm sure he's seen this before.

And much more, I'd wager.

You're probably right.

- It's almost Christmas.
- Hm!

♪ Pray, wither sailed those ships all three ♪

♪ On Christmas day on Christmas day ♪

♪ Pray, wither sailed those ships all three ♪

♪ On Christmas day in the morning ♪

♪ O they sailed into Bethlehem

♪ On Christmas day on Christmas day ♪

♪ O they sailed into Bethlehem

♪ On Christmas day in the morning ♪

♪ And all the bells on earth shall ring ♪

♪ On Christmas day on Christmas day ♪

♪ And all the bells on earth shall ring ♪

♪ On Christmas day in the morning ♪

♪ And all the souls on earth shall sing ♪

♪ On Christmas day on Christmas day ♪

♪ And all the souls on earth shall sing ♪

♪ On Christmas day in the morning ♪

(applause)

Ladies and Gentlemen.

The festivities are about to get underway.

Oh, it's so beautiful.

Enjoying yourself?

I will be when this
bloody pantomime is over.

(whispered): Oh, Thomas.

Goose, with apples and prunes.

I could have some, if you don't mind.

(lighting of a match)

- Grandmother?
- Rest, my dear.

You will be home soon.

- Hm!
- (expressions of surprise)

(applause)

(audible yawn)

- Something the matter, George?
- I've got something in my eye.

- Are you crying?
- No. I'm not crying.

Did you enjoy the performance, gentlemen?

- George was crying.
- It's a very touching piece, George.

No shame in feeling its emotions.

It's not my fault that I'm
cursed with a sensitive soul.

No doubt speaks to your gifts as a writer.

I think you're right, Doctor.
I think that's very astute.

But I was not crying.

I'm just gonna slip out for a wee nip.

- You will not, Thomas.
- Ladies and Gentlemen,

if I could have your kind attention.

It gives me great pleasure

to introduce your hostess for this evening,

Mrs. Millicent McGowan.

(applause and awes)

Thank you all for coming.

And now, I'd like to introduce to you

the star of this evening's performance.

Come on stage, Mary.

- I give you Miss Mary Pickford.
- (applause and acclamations)

Treasure her now because, soon, she's off

to America to try her hand
at the moving pictures.

- (Impressed reactions)
- Thank you for coming, Ladies and Gentlemen.

And remember to give from
your hearts, this Christmas...

- Thank you, Mary.
- Oh! (snicker)

The fate of the Little
Match Girl is sobering,

but sadly not unique.
And the fate and fortunes

of Toronto's poor children is the
reason for my husband's Christmas Gala.

His fifth, I might add, and it is my hope

that his kindness will spur you

to make this Christmas, the best Christmas

for Toronto's sick children and orphans.

(applause)

Children, form a queue.

We have a very special
guest in attendance tonight.

Gentlemen.

Bloody showboat.

Thomas, stop being such a pill. Mr. McGowan

is one of Toronto's
greatest philanthropists,

indulge him in his moment.

Close the door. Close
the door! Close the door.

- I think something is wrong.
- Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls...

He's probably pickled. (snicker)

I'm sorry, but there's
going to be a slight delay.

George.

Mrs. McGowan...

the rest of the presents, they're gone.

Gone? What are you talking about, gone?

- They've been stolen.
- His neck is broken.

Oh my God.

Well, I suppose that's put
the kibosh on Christmas.

We best get an attendant to cover him up

- before the children see.
- Right.

- George?
- I'll clear everyone off, sir.

Now, tonight's not when
we put out the presents.

Christmas Eve is the night for that.

You understand that? Is there
something you're hoping for?

I'd love a new doll. I've
heard there's one that talks.

Well, have you been good?

- I try.
- You try!

She tries. What more can we ask?

As long as you try not be bad,

or cruel,

that's enough!

- Excuse me, sir.
- Yes?

I'm afraid we need you to
move along? We're conducting

an investigation now, and we
should get the children home.

Of course, of course!

Alright, beautiful children,

I wish you good night. Try to sleep well.

- Alright.
- Thank you, sir.

And you know, sir, I could
give you... if you wanted it,

I could give you the name
of a... a good barber.

(chuckling)

That's really not
necessary, son. Thank you.

Saint Nick's last ride.

We've got all the names
and addresses of the guests.

Ah, thank you, sir.
Could you drop Julia home?

- Course.
- I have to stay a while longer.

(coughing)

Could you excuse me just one moment?

I'll get my outer coat.

Are you alright?

Yes.

How long have you been like this?

I don't know.

Excuse me. Can you take this boy with you

to The Hospital for Sick
Children? I'll let the nuns know.

Of course.

Mrs. McGowan,

I'm terribly sorry for your loss.

(holding back tears):
He was a wonderful man.

Well, in my experience,

even wonderful men have enemies.

And all the presents...

missing.

They were for the children.
(crying): Poor children.

Mrs. McGowan, someone
wanted your husband dead.

- And succeeded.
- Yes. Who?

The only one that I can think of

that has a heart dark enough
to do this is Cyrus Lynch.

Cyrus Lynch. Of Lynch Fabrications?

- The one and only.
- And why do you say that?

He and my husband were friends once.

And friends can become vicious enemies.

- But...
- But?

... but to kill a man days before Christmas

and steal alms from the poor...

I didn't think Mr. Lynch would go that far.

Again, terribly sorry.

We may need to speak again.

The donations were stored
in the building over there.

We only discovered they were
gone after Mr. McGowan's death.

And you didn't notice
anything unusual today?

I heard something in the woods
before the guests arrived.

- Something?
- It sounded like an animal

- but we didn't see anything.
- Hm...

Now, a sleigh carrying a heavy burden

seems to have gone this way.
What's in this direction?

A few other properties.

- Thank you.
- Here you go!

(hubbub)

Paper! Get your paper!

Who killed Saint Nicholas?!

Constabulary baffled! Read all about it!

The bloke could have let us
know he was taking a photograph.

That's what you look like, sir.

So what did you find at McGowan's?

Nothing concrete. The
groundsman seems to have heard

a disturbance of some kind. And
the name Cyrus Lynch came up.

- He's a piece of work, this Lynch.
- Apparently he and the victim

- were not the closest of friends.
- Anything else?

I checked the city survey. Mr. Lynch's home

- is quite near to Mr. McGowan's.
- (knocking nearby)

- Would it kill ya to hold the ladder, Henry?
- Hey Jackson!

What do you think you're doing?

I'm measuring the height of
the ceiling, sir. For the tree.

There will not be a tree in here.

- No tree?
- Bloody Germans

and their idiotic
traditions. Jackson, get down!

Sir, a tree wouldn't be a terrible idea.

This is a place of work,
Murdoch, not a bloody herbarium.

Well everybody, just popped by

to wish everyone the best of the season.

- I'm off to Newfoundland.
- Oh right, George. Have a pleasant journey.

Oh sir, I hope to. And if
my connections are reliable,

I'll make it the St. Johns just
in time for the festivities.

- My aunts are expecting me.
- George, this arrived for you.

My aunts are going on some journey

with a mysterious benefactor?

- Hardly seems worth the trip now.
- Oh, don't worry

about it, bugalugs. I've
got plenty for you to do.

Instead of gallivanting across
the country, you can help

Murdoch, here, find out
who murdered St. Nicholas.

Right. I could use the company.

I can't believe they would just abandon me.

What am I gonna do now?

Higgins, perhaps you and I could...

... Spend Christmas together?

(laughing mildly): No, I don't
think so, George. I have plans.

Yes, no. Of course.

Sir, why Mr. Lynch?

Mrs. McGowan suspects Cyrus Lynch.

Also, when I was at the
McGowan's last night,

I saw tracks heading
towards Cyrus Lynch's home.

Good eye, sir. Do you mind if I drive?

Go ahead, George.

I get the lead on the way home.

Fair enough, sir. (clicking sounds)

(sleigh bells ringing)

Tell the policeman what you saw.

Go on, son.

I was out for a walk on
the Parker Trail last night

and I saw something in the woods.

- The Parker Trail?
- You know the one.

Near where all the rich people live.

You brought him in here for this?

Tell him what you told me.

The thing I saw.

- It was a creature.
- A creature?

Yes, sir. It looked like
a man. But it wasn't.

It had horns and... big ears.

A big-eared, horny creature?

- Yes sir.
- I tell you what, son:

I'll get a couple of my
men to go take a look.

We wouldn't want this creature
spoiling your Christmas,

- now would we?
- Thank you, sir.

And, uh, one more thing...

- What's that?
- I found this.

It's from the beast.

Krampus.

- We haven't seen him since yesterday.
- Is that unusual?

Very much so. Mr. Lynch
is something of a homebody.

That is when he is not at work.

I inquired. He wasn't there, either.

I very much need to speak with him.

So do I. I'm hoping to be
relieved for the holiday,

- but he's disappeared.
- Is this a recent photo?

- It is.
- May I?

- Thank you.
- Sir.

- Sir.
- What have you, George?

Look at this. "Compliments
of Alistair McGowan."

One of the stolen gifts. Were there others?

This is the only one I could find, sir.

It would appear Mr. Lynch
is trying to steal Christmas.

I want these distributed to
all points of exit from Toronto.

Train stations, livery
yards, lake steamers.

We must find Cyrus Lynch.

Sir, all those places will be
overrun by holiday travelers.

Then all the more likely someone is to have

seen him, Henry. Get to it!

- Yes, sir.
- (hubbub)

Constable Jackson?

It's a pity we can't have a tree, sir.

It would certainly make
our task feel more festive.

- Hm. They do lighten the spirit, don't they?
- Yes, sir!

You should see my family's tree.
Ten feet tall if it was an inch.

And when all the candles
are ablaze it is...

That's a fire hazard, isn't it?

Well, it may be, sir, but...

what a fire hazard! (chuckles)

Please, will you talk to the Inspector?

Ready your axe, Jackson.

Ha ha! Thank you, sir. Ha!

We're getting a tree! Ha ha!

(hustle and bustle)

My mother will be
marinating the goose by now.

- Already?
- A goose needs to be

well sauced, Henry. Sometimes
we eat it the night before.

- On Christmas Eve?
- I know. But sometimes

we just can't resist. Merry
Christmas, my good man!

How about you, Henry?

I'm going to the home
of James and Helen McVie.

- They're old family friends.
- Sounds boring.

You wouldn't say that if you
laid eyes on their daughter,

Elsie, George. Henry Higgins,
your own walking, talking

Christmas gift. Signed,
sealed, and delivered.

Best of the season, my good man. Well,

I can't wait to get home. They
won't trim the tree without me.

And how about you, George?

I was going to go home to Newfoundland.

Until his aunts got a better offer.

I'm sure they have a good reason.

You know, I suppose I'll
just stay in the city now.

Go for a walk or something.

Although... I do love a good goose.

Right, Eh... I'm sorry, George,

but Mother insists that
Christmas be for family only.

Oh, of course, of course,
who better to spend it with?

Why don't you celebrate with the Detective?

I'm not gonna be a third
wheel at the Detective

- and Doctor Ogden's festivities.
- So the Inspector, then?

Higgins, the Inspector?
Are you daft? Anyway,

what does it matter? In the
end it's just another day.

That's right George, that's all it is.

Nothing special at all.

Ahem! Merry Christmas everybody!

- (man): Merry Christmas!
- (woman): A happy Christmas!

Yes,

that is one of Mr. McGowan's.

- Where did you find it?
- In Cyrus Lynch's home.

And Mr. Lynch?

- Still unaccounted for.
- I don't envy your job.

And to have to deal with
a murder before Christmas.

Murder is a vile crime,
no matter the season.

Can you tell me any more

about Mr. Lynch and Mr.
McGowan's relationship?

They were not fond of one another.

By all accounts, that's an understatement.

As young men, the two were partners but...

something happened and
their friendship strained.

- Something?
- Millicent.

They both had designs on her,
but she chose Mr. McGowan.

They were married years ago, were they not?

- Almost twenty.
- Then why would Mr. Lynch wait

all this time to exact his revenge?

Perhaps he got tired

of hearing Mr. McGowan be called a saint

when he clearly knew him as a sinner.

Perhaps he resented the fact

that a thief was being treated like a king.

- How was that?
- Mr. McGowan

was not all that he
seemed, Detective Murdoch.

Publicly, he was a
benevolent philanthropist...

- And privately?
- A miser.

Then how do you explain all
of these presents at Christmas?

It cost him nothing. He
hardly paid his employees,

he often employed their
children for more hours

than the laws allow. Any complaint was met

with a threat of dismissal.

Are we speaking about
the same Alistair McGowan?

In the eyes of the world,
he was the embodiment

of the spirit of giving. But
the world doesn't see everything.

Not like an accountant.

Accountants see everything.

(sigh)

Thank you, Mr. Rankin.

I do hope the rest of the holiday

does allow for more pleasant diversion.

As do I.

And how do you celebrate it, sir?

- Quietly, with my wife.
- As do I...

but without the wife, sadly.

I have a home in the wilderness.

Some enjoy the gaiety; I, the tranquility.

But I do miss the comfort of family.

(door closing)

Hello Father!

Bobby. Gone a little bit overboard

on the Christmas decorations, haven't you?

Oh Thomas, it only happens once a year.

- Where's John?
- Out caroling with his friends.

- Bloody hell.
- I just made this;

it's called egg nog. Try it.

Hm! What do you think?

Waste of good rum.

- Ah...
- Father, I was wondering...

- What?
- Did you see that train set

- I was asking about?
- What does a boy your age

want with a train set? You
don't need a toy. You need a job.

- When I was your age I was up a chimney.
- I was only hoping...

Your mother's side of the
family have spoiled you rotten.

Why not be thankful for what you
have instead of whining for more?

Ebenezer.

- I heard that, Margaret.
- Good!

(voices of well-wishers)

All of the presents had been
stored in Mr. McGowan's barn.

Mr. Lynch had ample time and
opportunity to remove them.

So you think he did it?

(sighing): We found one of
the presents from Mr. McGowan's

in Mr. Lynch's home. And
still no sign of Mr. Lynch.

So he killed Mr. McGowan
and now, he's in hiding?

- So it would seem.
- (knocking at the door)

I'll get it.

Oh! It's arrived! Excellent. Come in,

- come in, come in.
- William?

- There's hardly room.
- Don't be silly.

There's always room for a Christmas tree!

(snicker and first notes
of O Christmas tree)

(humming to the song)

I'm not usually a sentimental sort

but I have kept these
things since childhood.

- Oh!
- I thought that was broken?

I fixed it.

Are you humming?

Me? No.

(little snicker)

Full of surprises.

(hubbub)

Merry Christmas!

Can I help you, sir?

Yes. Do you have, um...

anything like a small duck or a capon?

Smallest I got is four
pounds and it's spoken for.

What about a turkey?

Ten's the least.

- Nothing for a single person?
- On Christmas? Hardly.

There's never anything for
a single person on Christmas.

- Right. Thank you.
- Hey. Wait, wait, wait.

Uh...

I got these.

Huh?

- I'll take them.
- Great.

That'll be... 75 cents.

75 cents?!

Holiday prices!

(sigh)

Merry Christmas!

(birds chirping)

♪

(branch cracking)

Never ever sneak up on a man.

Why are you here?

- Just looking around.
- So you believe me?

I'm simply taking a walk.

Besides, it was just your imagination.

If you thought that, you would
not be snooping around here.

What kind of animal track
do you think that is?

I don't know. But I think you do.

All right, you lot, get off your backsides!

WE... are going to find this man.

- Of course we are, sir.
- Oh, I'm glad you're showing

some confidence, Jackson,
because until he's behind bars,

- all leave is canceled!
- Canceled?!

- Sir, what about Elsie?
- Please, sir,

- it's Christmas.
- You want Christmas,

find St. Nick's killer.

I want my Christmas.

- I promised my mother...
- Hang Christmas!

- I wanted Elsie.
- You know what?

This might not be so bad.

- What are you talking about?
- Well, we'll spend Christmas together.

The three lads! We'll make a go of it.

(barely audible): Sure.

Right?

I have another job for you, George.

Please take Henry and Jackson
down to Sullivan Street.

Mr. Lynch has a warehouse there.

- Perhaps he's stashed something.
- Yes, of course.

(big, obvious sigh)

George?

Sir, do you and Doctor Ogden...

What are you doing for
Christmas? You have any plans?

- None at all.
- Really? Well, I was asking...

And we couldn't be happier. We spend

so little time alone together
that a day with nothing more

than each other's company is all we want.

Yes, of course.

Of course. Right, then. Off we go.

- George?
- Sir?

Could you..?

Oh.

My sausages.

Merry Christmas! Best of the Season.

- Happy Christmas, ma'am!
- Jackson.

- Merry Christmas!
- He's getting half annoying.

- Just half?
- Happy Christmas!

Merry Christmas, sir!

- Cut it out, Jackson.
- You're an officer of the law,

- man, not an elf.
- More like an oaf.

(snickering): Very good, Henry.

You there! Merry Christmas. Ha ha! Got ya.

- God, grant us patience.
- Merry Christmas.

- Jackson!
- (horse snorting)

- I could feign an illness.
- And you think the Inspector

- is gonna believe that?
- You should see her, George...

Fellows, look: The McGowan presents.

Well, how do we know
they're from HIS house?

Ha!

Look at this.

- It's a sled.
- Not just any sled.

And it's a sleigh, by the way.

- And see?
- "Slugger."

- Yeah.
- I built this and donated it

to Mr. McGowan's cause.
Gentlemen, we are starting

on the road back to Christmas.

(chuckles)

And here we are, for you, my princess.

- Merry Christmas.
- Merry Christmas.

Thank you, my darling. Thank you!

And for you sir, I believe this is a razor

since you're starting to shave.

- Merry Christmas.
- Excuse me, sir,

- Uh, a word, please?
- Of course, sonny.

What is it?

You were at the McGowan house
the other night, were you not?

Indeed. We spoke, yes.

May I ask where you got these presents?

I have important work to do here.

- Do you mind?
- Excuse me, sir.

- What? What?
- What's your name?

Isn't it apparent? It's Kris Kringle!

(Jackson gasps.)

- Sir, you need to come with us.
- Why?

We believe these presents might be...

- stolen property.
- Stolen property?

- How dare you?!
- Come off it, you old coot.

I will not go willingly.

What do you think of that?

(wind blowing and whistling)

(knocking at the window)

(growling)

(screaming and more growling)

Let me go! I said let me go!

- I've never been treated like this.
- Bloody hell.

You are the stupidest
police I've ever encountered!

- Murdoch?
- One step ahead of you, sir.

- Good luck, sir.
- Mary Pickford!

This isn't right. All he was
doing was handing out presents.

Excuse me, but this is police business.

You can't put him in
jail. Not before Christmas!

I can do whatever I choose,
young lady. Now you, go home.

- (to himself): Bloody match girl!
- I'll ask you

once again, sir. What is your name?

Oh. It's, uh, Kris Kringle.

But some prefer to call me Santa.

- Santa Claus.
- Yes,

yes, I understood that part.

So you just happened

to find those presents in that warehouse?

I did take the presents,

but only to give them to the children.

I was planning to deliver
them on Christmas Eve,

naturally.

But then... I had second thoughts.

Why is that?

Look at those children!

They have no homes, much less a chimney.

What is your connection to Mr. Lynch?

I have none!

- Alistair McGowan?
- (Hums a negative.)

Then how did you come to be in his home?

I know of all Christmas events.

Good thing I was there!

The children needed me.

And now you are in
possession of Mr. McGowan's

- stolen Christmas gifts.
- Well...

Again, I ask you, what is
your connection to Mr. Lynch?

I. Have. None.

I'm going to give you

a moment to reconsider that answer.

OK.

We only found a small
portion of the presents.

There could be caches
scattered throughout the city.

So... we could find them?

- Like an Easter Egg Hunt.
- Wrong holiday, Jackson.

That's not exactly true,
Higgins. In some cultures...

The Finns for example... hiding
eggs is not unique to Easter

It is indeed part of
their Christmas tradition.

- Thank you, George.
- Sir.

In spite of the man we have in cust...

- Latvians also, in Latvia. Sir.
- Thank you.

In spite of the man
that we have in custody,

Cyrus Lynch remains our primary suspect.

- He didn't do it.
- Doctor?

Mr. McGowan's neck was snapped. His body

was also transported after death.

Given the relative sizes of
the two men, it's unlikely

- Mr. Lynch could have done it.
- Well, he may have had an accomplice.

At any rate, Cyrus Lynch remains a
person of interest in this investigation.

The lynchpin as it were. (chuckles)

- Lynchpin.
- Back to work, Gentlemen.

(banter)

I have someone that I
would like you to meet.

- Who?
- Well, he...

You'll see.

(sound of metal door and keys)

- Hello, I'm Doctor Julia Ogden.
- Oh!

- And you are?
- Kringle. Kris Kringle.

And you have to let me out of here.

May I talk to you for just one moment?

Could we do that a little later, please?

This is my busy time. And the elves,

if they're left alone too long,
they tend to get fractious.

- I see.
- Yeah!

So you believe that you are...

And the reindeer, someone
has to look after them,

and you know who that
someone is, don't you?

Well, you have to get me out of here.

Alright

Is there someone you
know that I could talk to?

I can't release you unless there's someone

to surrender you to.

My wife.

Good! And how can I find her?

She's some distance north of here.

♪ Deck the hall with boughs of holly ♪

♪ Fa la la la la la la la la ♪

♪ Tis the season to be jolly

♪ Fa la la la la la la la la ♪

It's a big city, George.
We won't find a man

- who doesn't want to be found.
- Especially a man of means.

He could be anywhere. He
could be in New York City

or halfway to San Francisco

I can't believe we're gonna miss Christmas

because of the Inspector's stupid...

George, why the heck did you kick me??

- Evening, Inspector.
- Ah, evening, lads.

- Uh, not at home?
- I decided I could use

a few before I could face what
the missus has got planned.

- Why, what's that sir?
- Margaret want us to bob

- for bloody apples.
- That sounds like fun, sir!

Dunking my head into a bucket

of ice cold water is not
what I consider fun, Jackson.

I hate this bloody season.
At least, at New Year's,

all you have to do is get drunk
and kiss the wife! Ha ha ha!

- What about Easter, sir?
- Don't get me started

on that bloody ghost
story. Fancy another one?

- I should get home.
- Yes, busy day.

Killer to find and all that!

I hope that's not sarcasm
I'm detecting, Higgins.

- Wouldn't dream of it, sir.
- Hm. What about you, Crabtree?

- I'll have another, sir!
- Ah, good lad.

Landlord. Two pints and two chasers

and keep them coming.

Ha ha!

Sir, I feel like you're
missing the whole...

- spirit of the season.
- Let me tell you

about the season that is
supposedly full of good.

It still contains its fair share of evil.

- What do you mean, sir?
- Oh Crabtree.

It's a holiday for hypocrites.

A holiday where the Godless can feel pious.

Where the greedy can
pretend to be generous.

I'd be happy if the
whole thing never existed.

I'll see you tomorrow,

George Crabtree.

Woman of the house!

- Thomas! Honestly!
- (He laughs.)

- Come here, Margaret.
- What do you... Oh!

That's enough of that.

Spend Christmas together?

Oh, no I don't think so,
George. I have plans.

I'm sorry, George, but Mother insists

that Christmas be for family only.

A day with nothing more
than each other's company

- is all we want.
- On Christmas? Hardly.

There's never anything for a
single person at Christmas.

I'd be happy if the whole
thing never existed.

(panting and moaning aloud))

Sir! What is it?

There's something in the
woods, it was coming after me!

Something? What do you mean, something?

A creature. And it was carrying a body

- as if it was a feather pillow.
- A creature?

Yeah! Horns on his head. Blood-red eyes.

- Where is this creature now?
- In the woods. That way.

If I was you, I'd get help.

(panting and moaning)

Hello!

Is anyone there?

(sniffing)

- Inspector Brackenreid!
- I'm not releasing him.

That's not why I'm here.
Even though you would

- if you had a heart.
- What do you want?

I'm assisting in a charity
drive for the City's orphans

and The Hospital for Sick Children.

I was hoping some of the Constables
could help with the procuring

- of donations.
- Well, we are attempting

to solve a murder and a
robbery at the McGowan Mansion.

I know sir, but if you fail,
the children could use help...

Maybe you should try the fire department.

- Sir, a moment?
- What is it, Crabtree?

Sir, I saw something unusual last night.

- Well, you'd had a few.
- I know,

but, sir, I saw... I saw
some tracks in the woods.

- What'd they look like?
- Like nothing I'd ever seen before.

They weren't quite human,
a little bit like a paw,

but at the same time, like
no animal I've ever seen.

I am running out of time!
You are destroying Christmas!

- Sir. I have no choice.
- You are so sure,

- aren't you?
- Excuse me?

How can you be convinced that I am not

who I say I am?

Bloody Christmas!

They're supposed to be solving a murder.

Sir, they're merely exchanging gifts.

- (sighing): Come on. Let's go.
- Where?

- The Mayor's making a speech.
- All ranking city officials

- are to be in attendance.
- I'm a ranking city official, now?

No, and you're never likely

to be, but I could use the company.

Higgins, you twit! What are
you doing with that bloody tree!

Detective Murdoch said it would be alright.

Put down the tree and find Mr. Lynch!

- Not here, Jackson. Come...
- Sorry.

Come about! Come on! Excuse me, sir!

- Sorry!
- Watch out, sir!

(Brackenreid grunts.)

And thank you for coming. Your
generosity is the real message

of the spirit of Christmas. To
think that citizens of Toron...

Thank you, Miss Pickford.

Oh! (applause)

To reiterate what our own
Little Match Girl was saying,

I thank you all for donating to our cause.

All our hearts were
saddened by the untimely

demise of Mr. McGowan, a man who spread joy

for so many years. It seemed
the spirit of Christmas

had passed us by, but you rose

and took up the torch. And
the man who held it firmest

was none other than Cyrus Lynch.

Since the death of Mr. McGowan,
I have been in communication

with Mr. Lynch, who has
helped spearhead this drive

- with a sizable donation.
- (Oohs and aahs)

The City of Toronto owes
him a debt of gratitude.

- It would seem Mr.
- Lynch is alive and well.

And now he's playing at
being Saint bloody Nick!

A perverse motive, but that
could explain the murder.

... to give a gift to the City of Toronto.

And it gives me great honour

to unveil it today.

(excited reactions)

(reactions of horror)

Good Lord.

That's bloody Lynch!

(roar of fire ignition and screams)

Get back everyone! Get back!

Everybody, back!

This is terrible. This is not good at all.

Why didn't you inform us
that you were in contact

with Cyrus Lynch? We were looking for him.

- I didn't know that.
- There were posters all over town.

I've been very busy
coordinating this charity drive.

I don't have time to be looking at posters.

Mr. Mayor. What did you
believe was in the crate?

I was told it was a likeness of myself.

And you thought it would
be a good idea to unveil it

- at this celebration.
- Every little bit counts.

My Lord, the carnage.

- All our efforts, up in smoke.
- Sir, when did you

- last see Cyrus Lynch?
- I never saw him.

The only means of communication
was through a third party.

Who was?

I have no idea.

All I can say is that once
the presents started to arrive,

I had no reason to
believe anything was amiss.

Mr. Mayor, it's time to control the damage.

Gentlemen, I have to go.
Inspector Brackenreid,

my office will be in contact
later, this afternoon.

I have a task for you.

There will be many in our
fair city who will not see

- Christmas this year.
- And they'd be very

disappointed not to get to see that statue.

Mr. Mayor,

what did I tell you about
talking to the police

- on your own?
- Hm.

You have to eat something.

I heard what happened at City Hall.

Yes. It was terrible.

The world needs me. You know that,

- don't you, Constable?
- I can't help you.

Yes, you can. You know it's wrong

to keep me in this cell, don't you?

- And I know something else, too.
- What's that?

You have the spirit of
Christmas within you.

And you do know who I truly am.

Eat something. Please.

And we've been instructed
by the Mayor's office

to do whatever we can to
bring in gifts and donations.

Are we still looking for
the stolen presents, sir?

- Yes, Higgins.
- And the murderer, sir?

We're the police,
Crabtree, what do you think?

- Right.
- Then get to it. And Jackson,

- you're not on holiday yet.
- Yes, sir.

Ah, Murdoch. What have you got?

Julia's examining the body, sir.

But it's safe to say that
Lynch didn't kill McGowan?

- We don't know that.
- Sirs,

even if Lynch was the murderer,
somebody's killed him now,

- so we have another crime.
- What are you still doing here?

I think my efforts are better
spent here on the investigation.

Alright, Crabtree, what do you think?

I think a third party
killed McGowan and Lynch.

Oh? And why would they do that?

It would appear, sirs, for the sole purpose

of destroying Christmas.

Gentlemen. My office.

(sighing): Krampus!

- Who?
- Kram...

pus. Krampus.

With a K.

I'm sorry, sir, I don't follow.

When I was a boy back in Yorkshire,

my father told me the story of Krampus.

Krampus is a creature
that emerges from the woods

at Christmas time. But he
didn't bring gifts to children,

he punished them. And if he
was in a particularly foul mood,

- he devoured them.
- Devoured them, sir?

Yes. In fact, he punished
all who celebrated Christmas.

So, did he devour adults as well?

- I don't know.
- I mean, I suppose if you had

to choose between devouring
a child or some old person...

Alright, that's enough, George. Sir,

you believe this Krampus is
responsible for our murders?

Mock me if you want Murdoch,
but I'll tell you this:

I've seen him. When I was a boy,

he appeared at my bedroom window.

You had a nightmare as a child.

But I hardly think it responsible

for two murders... in Toronto... today.

- How do you kill it?
- According to my father,

- Krampus can't be killed.
- I knew it.

And I think he's here, now.

- Sir?
- (deep sigh)

Yesterday I was walking
through the woods...

and I felt its presence,

just like I did all those years ago.

All right, sir.

Would you be willing to
describe this presence?

Don't be smart, Murdoch.

Alright, let me see.

All I remember is the glowing eyes,

the beastly feet and the horns.

- Crabtree saw the same.
- George?

Sir, not to the same level
of detail as the Inspector,

but I did see... some very unusual tracks.

- Where was this?
- On Bells Bridge.

A tramp had reported seeing a huge figure

carrying a body over his
shoulder through the woods.

That body could have
been that of Mr. Lynch.

- Did you see this body?
- No.

- Did you see the "beast?"
- No.

Did you see anything to
support this Krampus notion?

Well, sir, as I said, I did see the tracks.

What about this?

That looks very much like a goat's horn.

Like a horn. But perhaps

not simply a goat's horn.

Respectfully, Sir,

there is no such thing as Krampus.

No such thing as St. Nick.

No such thing as the
ghost of Christmas past,

- or elves...
- Please don't say that, sir.

- There's no Kris Kringle.
- Not you, too, Doctor!

I was coming by to see how he was faring.

- Did someone let him out?
- Not without your authority, Julia.

Maybe his elves rescued him.

Jackson, what are you doing?

- Decorating the station, sir.
- Well, stop it.

- We've got two murderers to find.
- And possibly a monster.

- George?
- Don't get him started.

(Jackson): A monster?

Despite how he was
found, it seems Mr. Lynch

died in the same manner as Mr. McGowan.

- A snapped neck.
- So it seems likely that

the same person murdered both of them.

It's possible. And I found
these scratch marks on his body.

- He was clawed.
- That makes sense.

- Inspector?
- The Inspector seems

to believe that supernatural
forces are at work here.

- Oh, I see.
- Whereas

I prefer to stay in the real world.

(sleigh bells)

- Whoa!
- (horse snorting)

I just don't feel like
celebrating this year.

I can understand that, Mrs. McGowan.

Thank you for seeing me.

Oh, of course, I'm just
not sure how I can help.

I take it you've heard about
the unfortunate circumstance

that befell Mr. Lynch.

I have.

And do you still believe
him to be responsible

- for your husband's death?
- I do.

I hate to trouble you with this,

but I will need you to
account for your whereabouts.

You're not seriously suggesting..?

Is everything alright?

I take it you've heard about
the death of our prime suspect.

I have. And I must admit surprise.

I was of the sincere belief
that Cyrus Lynch was responsible

- for the death of Mr. McGowan.
- We both were.

Well, thank you. If you
think of anyone else...

Of course.

Robert Kratchet.

You should talk to Robert Kratchet.

Hi sir. Can I borrow your hat?

Oh, I'm sorry miss,

but I only have the one.

(giggles)

Oh no! Help!

Help! Help! Please let
me in! I'm being attacked.

(knocking)

I was chief of operations
at McGowan Manufacturing

for almost ten years. Not anymore.

Was Mr. McGowan unsatisfied with your work?

He didn't fire me I left.

- Oh. Why?
- You know what he did this year?

He docked our wages so he
could buy more presents.

The only thing Alistair McGowan
ever did was make himself

look good at other's expense.

A number of the lads and
myself were making the move

- to Lynch Fabrications.
- McGowan's chief competitor?

Did McGowan know about this?

Mr. Lynch walked into our plant
and offered up the jobs himself.

He must have heard that
McGowan was docking our wages.

Struck while the iron was hot.

And how did Mr. McGowan react?

The two of them actually got
into a fight on the shop floor.

- No?
- Mr. McGowan got the better of him.

You don't seem upset
by Mr. MaGowan's murder.

As far as I'm concerned, the old skinflint

got what he deserved.

And how do you feel
about Mr. Lynch's death?

As long as the job he promised
is still waiting for me,

that's all that matters.

Ma'am, please...

Would you like to make a
donation? Anything helps.

Ma'am could you please help?

- What would be the point?
- It'll just get stolen.

And Happy Christmas to you, too.

I haven't had a single donation.

I put these in myself.

Higgins. Krampus is winning.

Who's Krampus? What are you talking about?

The Inspector believes

that there is a malevolent
spirit loose on the streets

of Toronto and its sole aim...

is to ruin Christmas.

- The Inspector said that?
- Yes, he did.

And look, he's right!

(phone ringing)

Constable George Crabtree.

I'm sorry. No more questions, gentlemen.

This man needs medical attention.

He's taken a blow to the head. We
should take him to the hospital.

Sir, what happened?

I was closing up for the night.

I heard a noise. Something
was destroying the carousel.

- Something?
- It wasn't human.

It was a foul smelling creature.

It walked on two legs, but it wasn't a man.

I turned to run, but it
struck me from behind.

And you told those reporters that?

People need to know!

- William. I have to take him.
- (grunt from the man)

- Sir, did you hear that?
- I did.

- Do you believe me now?
- No, George. I do not.

Sir... (Blows out air.)

Krampus. Krampus.

Gentlemen, gentlemen. One at a time, please.

- Detective, is the city safe?
- As safe as it ever was.

Well, how can you say
that? We have two murders

- and a beast roaming the streets.
- We are investigating

the deaths of Mr. Lynch
and Mr. McGowan and we will

- come to a conclusion.
- And what about the beast?

Uh... gentlemen,

I highly doubt that a beast

is wandering the streets of
Toronto, and so should you.

- That's all for now. Thank you.
- How did this Krampus

- arrange passage?
- Have you checked the steamship lines?

You called for me?

I did indeed, Constable Jackson.

I know what you did.

I don't know what you're...

- You released Mr. Kringle.
- I did not, I...

Well, he...

- Ahem!
- I'm not a fool, Jackson,

so don't play me for one.

I don't think it's in his
nature to cause harm, ma'am.

(quick sigh)

I know you mean well,
but you're not qualified

to make that judgment.

Now, come with me.

- Can't we just let him go?
- Jackson!

Christmas is my favourite
time of year. Yet now,

- it doesn't feel the same.
- Well, two murders just days

before the holidays do tend
to dampen the Christmas Spirit.

- There he is.
- Sir!

- Sir!
- Go! Go!

- Stop.
- You there. Stop!

- Oh! Ah...
- AH!

Jackson.

- Are you alright?
- Yes, Doctor.

Well, you know what they say
about dashing in the snow:

"head over heels you go."

Very good, Doctor.

George!

- George!
- Sir.

Is this your doing?

Sir, he remains a viable suspect.

No, "it" does not.

George, we would be much
closer to solving this case

if you and the Inspector would
reign in your flights of fancy.

Sir.

Take this.

As you can see, the boy
you sent us is doing well.

- He'll be released soon?
- A woman from the orphanage

is coming for him.

Is it always so chilly in here?

We do our best. But
when a chill wind blows,

well, it plays havoc on our ability

- to care for the early borns.
- I'm sure.

You know, my husband,
Detective William Murdoch,

is quite an ingenious man.
He may be able to help you.

Thank you. We'd appreciate
any help we can get.

It has nothing to do
with who Mr. McGowan did

or didn't cheat. Krampus
is responsible for all this.

I'm sorry sir, but I find it difficult

- to believe that a demon...
- You believe in the existence

- of good, do you not?
- Of course.

Well then you can believe
in the spirit of evil.

You can believe that
someone can hate Christmas.

Well, all people are capable

of hating something, so that is possible.

- But Christmas...
- There are plenty of reasons

to hate Christmas, Murdoch.
The poor hate Christmas,

the lonely hate Christmas,
the greedy hate Christmas.

- And I hate Christmas.
- Sir...

Every year when I was a young boy,

I asked for one small present:

a figure of a Prussian cavalry
officer. And every year,

nothing. Oh, I know my father tried,

but every year your face
got rubbed deeper in it.

For a lot of people, Christmas
isn't St. Nick, it's Krampus.

- I doubt very much that Kramp...
- Christmas is nothing but greed

and crushing disappointments.
It is the time of Krampus.

But it doesn't have to be.

I just wish the whole
bloody holiday would go away.

Sir, Christmas is worth saving.

It really is.

I have some specimen containers
that would be suitable.

- Wonderful.
- I'll have someone bring them over.

This is going to work perfectly.

And don't you be late tonight.

It is Christmas Eve. (snicker)

(conversations)

(man): Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

- This is the best you could do?
- People are skint.

- Skint?
- Tapped out. Without money.

- Bleakest Christmas on record.
- And during your term in office, sir.

- What a pity.
- And Happy Christmas to you too, Inspector.

Right, you lot, get back
to work. Oh, and you two

are not excluded either.

(inaudible words)

- Right, everyone, go home.
- Home, sir?

You heard me, Higgins? Now clear
off before I change my mind.

- Inspector?
- We're not going to find him

tonight, Murdoch. We'll pick
it up after the holidays.

- Merry Christmas, sir!
- Quite.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Tomorrow's going to be my lucky day!

George, can you help me pack up this box?

Ah.

And accompany me home.

Really, sir?! Oh thank you, sir!

- Oh, I didn't mean...
- Oh sir, that is wonderful.

I thought my Christmas Eve
was going to be bleak, but...

your place at the Windsor is just
lovely, and the food is to die for.

And Doctor Ogden, sir,
she is lovely company.

Really, I think that's
important. And very attractive.

As are you. I'm sure if you asked any lady,

they would say as much.

Julia? Julia, where are
you, I've brought a...

Unwrap me, William.

- ... visitor.
- Good gracious!

- Sir, I... I... I should go.
- No, George...

(sighing): I think the
moment may have passed.

George. Would you like a breast or a leg?

Oh, uh... whichever is appropriate.

Thank you. George.

Why are you wearing only one sock?

The other one is hanging on the tree, sir.

The tree?

Yes. You don't have a
hearth so I thought I thought

that would be the best place...

Do you not hang your
stockings at Christmas?

Well, you must!

♪ Good King Wenceslas looked down ♪

♪ On the feast of Stephen

♪ When the snow lay round about ♪

Are we supposed to put something in them?

- I have no idea.
- And is he staying over?

I believe that's the expectation.

Let's just make the best of it, shall we?

(George still singing)

Looks wonderful, George!

And now... (little snicker)

- (electrical buzzing)
- Oh! William!

They're quite strong, sir.

I'm sure it can easily be corrected.

Would you like a sherry,
George? This could take a while.

Another mint, Doctor?

I'm fine. William, how much longer?

This should do it.

(more electrical buzzing)

Perhaps you overcompensated, sir.

Something must have caused
a short circuit somehow.

I'll ring down to the desk, see
if they can replace the fuse.

I may pop out for a brief constitutional.

And for goodness sake, William,
keep your hands off the lights!

(doors closing)

(melodramatic music)

(hubbub)

Father, did you see that
train set I was talking about?

It's not fair! It's not fair!

Everyone gets a present! Everyone but me!

- I made you a present.
- I don't want something

- stupid and homemade.
- I'm trying my best, son.

I hate you!

(conversations)

Hey, you there! Stop!

There is somewhere I have to be.

- Well, hold up a moment!
- I'm in a tremendous hurry!

And you should be in custody!

What? Aah!

I can't be! Not tonight!

Surely you must understand who I am?

Sir, why do you insist on this ruse?

How can you believe you
are who you say you are?

And why do you believe I'm not?

To use your parlance,

I certainly fit the profile.

And answer me this:

I overheard one of your constables say

you were searching for Krampus.

If you can believe in him,
why can't you believe in me?

- Well, you make a good point there, I suppose.
- Ah!

But you stole presents. Is
that in the spirit of Christmas?

I did not steal presents!

They were my presents!

I did see a man

carry a load of presents
into the warehouse.

- A man. What man?
- Never saw him before in my life.

Sir, could you come with me?

- I'm tremendously busy.
- I promise I won't

keep you long, but I
will give you a chance.

- A chance? At what?
- To save Christmas.

His chin's a little broader.

And you're certain this is the man you saw

deposit the gifts in Mr. Lynch's warehouse?

Oh, yes... yeah... yes it is.

George. This could be Robert Kratchet.

Recently in the employ of none
other than Alistair McGowan.

- So he's our man?
- Let's not jump to conclusions just yet.

- Thank you.
- Ah!

Let's pay Mr. Kratchet a visit, shall we?

Right. I'll get my sock.

And where are you going?

It's very late. The
Constable said I could leave.

Oh, please. Look at me,

I'm hale and hearty and I can assure you:

I am no danger to myself

or anyone else, I promise you that.

You're quite certain?

Yes, I am. Now please.

I have to go.

Both you and I have
important work to do tonight.

Alright. Let's go catch a thief.

- And a murderer.
- That too.

And you are on the naughty list.

I did wonder.

Where are the presents?

- Did we have a break in?
- No.

- Then what?
- The boys.

- (sighing): What did they do?
- No, no. It's not like that.

They took the toys and presents
and marched down to the Orphanage.

They said they had enough things and wanted

to give them to the poor children.

I have never been so proud.

My boys are better men than me.

What are you talking about, Thomas?

Do you know what I did at
Christmas when I was their age?

I told my father how much I hated him.

That's why Krampus came calling.

Oh, you know Krampus is not real.

- That's what they say.
- Where are you going?

To make things right.

- It's Christmas Eve.
- I'm well aware of that,

Mr. Kratchet. Please, answer the question.

I delivered the presents
to Mr. Lynch's warehouse.

- What of it?
- They were stolen.

No, they weren't. Mrs. McGowan
found them in her house.

After Mr. McGowan's murder.

But why deliver them to Lynch's warehouse?

She said they were to aid
Mr. Lynch's charity drive.

I had no reason to believe otherwise.

- Why would she do that?
- I don't know.

Perhaps she, unlike her
husband, had a good heart.

Detective,

I honestly didn't know I
was doing something wrong.

Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Kratchet.

Merry Christmas.

Why would she help her husband's rival?

She was a charitable soul, sir.

I'd be inclined to believe that,
George, were it not for the timing.

Mr. Lynch's gift drive
hadn't been announced yet.

She only had Mr. Kratchet do that

in order to implicate Mr.
Lynch in her husband's murder.

- So she did it?
- You're jumping again, George.

North on Yonge Street, driver.

With pleasure, sir.

- Mrs. McGowan?
- Millicent?

What are we doing here?

Doing what the Inspector always says to do.

Following the money.

Just a few files Rankin was
disinclined to show us, sir.

A-HA!

- What is it?
- We know that Mr. McGowan

and Mr. Lynch were partners
who eventually parted ways.

But Mr. Rankin didn't tell us about this.

I've been chasing after you lot

halfway across bloody Toronto.

Nice of you to join us, sir. We have it.

They were all partners, sir.

McGowan, Lynch, and Rankin.

At the very beginning, yes.
Mr. Rankin was an equal partner

in the very first company
that the three of them formed.

But when the business started off slowly,

Mr. Rankin wanted out, so he
sold his shares in their company

- to them for 100 dollars.
- Not a wise move.

Mr. McGowan and Mr. Lynch
built it up to a million-dollar

enterprise before they parted ways.

- And Mr. Rankin?
- The best they could offer him

was a position as a salaried employee.

Enough to make a man very, very bitter.

He watched his friends getting
richer and richer every day

while he continued on as
a poorly-paid bookkeeper.

- Is Millicent McGowan involved?
- I've found no evidence

- to link her into any of this.
- So she's innocent?

Ah, that's jumping to conclusions, Doctor.

Mr. Rankin would be up

to answer this question, if
we knew where to find him.

Bring the sleigh around,
George. Mr. Rankin has a home

- just outside the city limits.
- Ah, well,

let's go and deliver
him some festive cheer.

Sir, look out for that stump!

Ooh! Ooh!

Sirs! Look.

They're animal tracks, George.

Sir, it's not just an animal.
I'm telling you these are

the same tracks I saw when that old
tramp saw the beast on the bridge.

But you didn't see the
beast. You said so yourself.

I smelled it, sir. There
was a hideous smell.

Fine. You stay here. We'll handle this.

Let's get a move on, Crabtree.

Sir, what if Krampus is in there?

Then we tell him he's not welcome.

Mr. Rankin!

Toronto Constabulary!

- (whimpering nearby)
- Shh! William, listen.

(whimpering ongoing)

(muffled screams)

- Are you alright?
- (whimpers)

Ah! Yes.

Yes, I think so.

Julia, wait.

- Who did this to you?
- It wasn't a who.

- Where's Mr. Rankin?
- I have no idea.

- Who brought you here?
- It was a monster.

It had horns, and had horrible red eyes.

I have no time for fairy
tales, Mrs. McGowan. The truth.

- That's what I'm telling you.
- No, Julia,

- leave her.
- (Mrs. McGowan): Oh!

Let's find Mr. Rankin first.

We'll split up.

Beware of the beast.

(blowing wind)

(door slamming)

(Lets air out.)

Crikey.

Krampus?

Krampus?!

- (Meeeow!)
- (whimpering)

God!

Hello?

Hello!

(mechanism and gasping)

(Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!)

(Clock continues to chime.)

(clock ticking)

(Crabtree): Sirs! Doctor!

Come look at this.

(unnerving escalating music)

Right. We best split up.

Why?

I'm sure this bugger knows this
maze like the back of his hand.

If he was here, he's probably long gone.

Besides, if we split up,
he'll pick us off one by one.

George, he's an accountant.

- Sir, he could be Krampus!
- There is no such thing as Krampus!

What are you talking about?

I'll explain later. Let's go.

(growling)

William! William!

- I think I saw something.
- Is it him?

I don't know. It was something!

- Something?
- Yes, something!

What in God's name are you saying?

Doctor Ogden?!

- Sir?
- Yes.

- I'm seeing more of the tracks.
- I see them, too, George.

Don't worry, it's just a ruse.

If it is, it's a bloody good one.

Doctor?

Doctor?

You should not have followed me.

Krampus?

You know what happens now.

Dinner.

You're not real.

You're nothing but a fairy tale.

A stupid fable! An old wives tale.

Murdoch!

Follow my voice. I got him!

- George!
- Sir?

Find Julia!

(grunt)

(whistling wind)

Oh! (sigh)

I've seen the beast.

Sir, there is no beast.

Oh, bloody hell, Murdoch,
I know that. But as far

as I'm concerned, a man
who dresses like a beast

is as good as one.

I suppose I can't argue with that.

(sighing): Follow me.

Doctor!

Doctor!

Julia.

- George.
- Are you alright?

Ah... I think so.

- Who did this to you?
- I really didn't see.

But they ran that way.

- Are you sure you're alright?
- Yes, go.

You stay here.

Sir!

Stop!

Aye! Stop!

- Find Julia.
- Be careful, Murdoch.

Hello?

Hello!

Krampus? OH!!

(grunt of effort)

(groan)

(liquid being poured)

Millicent! Stop what you're doing!

Aren't you clever.

You're a murderer, Millicent.

I had no choice.

My husband was robbing me blind.

Giving his money away to layabouts.

There are 3 police officers here.

You'll never get away with it.

Oh, I think I will. Unless
you can walk through fire.

Don't!

(scratching and sighing)

Pity they don't seem to be working.

Poor little match girl.

(grunting and groaning)

(fighting sounds)

Ya! OH!

Do you need a hand, Doctor?

I think I have it covered.

(hit, yelp and groan)

Always enjoyed a good Christmas punch.

So do I, Inspector. So do I.

- Stop!
- Huh!

(grunts and groans)

(fighting sounds)

- Let go or I'll kill you.
- I very much doubt that.

Mr. Rankin said that my
husband was going broke.

That he was going to put me in poverty.

- You hardly look poor.
- Giving away what's

rightfully mine to the
undeserving! I'd had enough!

Your husband was a cheat
and thief. But he had plenty

of money to live on and plenty
for you. I saw his books.

That's not what Mr. Rankin said.

He played you like an old piano, ma'am.

And made you an accessory to two murders.

I had nothing to do
with Mr. Lynch's murder.

- I swear.
- Well then,

we'll have to settle for your
part in killing your husband.

You've caused enough trouble, Mr. Rankin.

I don't suppose you want to hear my side.

- Not particularly. No.
- You lied!

- Mrs. McGowan!
- Get her off me.

You told me he was broke!

- I lied.
- You lied!?

I helped you kill my husband!

You wouldn't have done
it if you didn't want to.

You were just going to
leave me there, weren't you?

- You were never coming back for me.
- Why would I?

You were as bad as he
was. As all of them were.

- She's worse than I am.
- Oh, I doubt that.

You tried to terrorize an entire city.

A city overrun with greed and false cheer.

It deserved it. You all deserve it.

And you wallow in vice and depravity

and cruelty to your fellow
man. And dress yourselves up all

in false piety and reward
yourselves on Christmas Day.

(snickering): I am Krampus

and I hate all those
who celebrate Christmas.

I hate what it stands for.

It's a holiday for hypocrites

where the Godless can pretend to be pious,

the greedy can pretend to be generous.

People like me, we end up with nothing.

You throw crumbs at our feet and
we're supposed to be grateful.

I hate it!

You know what?

- I feel sorry for you.
- And why's that?

You'd feel better if you
measured Christmas by what

you can give... not what you can get.

At least you'll have a warm
Christmas Eve in the cells.

Be grateful for that.

(bells chiming)

(breathing and cooing)

Merry Christmas, Doctor.

(with a soft laugh):
Merry Christmas, Detective.

I imagine George will
be waiting by the tree.

(chuckles)

- George?
- Where's is he?

I have no idea.

"Thank you for Christmas
Eve. Enjoy your morning.

Much appreciation. George Crabtree."

Oranges.

Oh, lovely!

What is this?

(snickering): A rib spreader!

Yours was getting old and rusty.

Overuse, I imagine. Thank you.

And I had this made especially for you.

- My hat?
- For the tree!

Oh! Thank you.

Shall we go to the hospital?

In a moment.

Oh, you don't need that.

(giggles)

We should go.

(laughing and shouting)

(Choo-choo!)

How did you find a toy store
open so late on Christmas Eve?

- It wasn't exactly open.
- Wh... ?

I broke in. I did leave
enough to cover the cost.

I'm gonna nip out for a bit.

Oh, I highly doubt the pubs are open today.

I'm not going to the pub. The
boys are on a bit of a mission

this morning; I thought I'd pitch in.

I'll see you at lunchtime.

They're called incubators.

They will deliver a safe, regulated heat.

My husband assures me they'll
work and save many lives.

- Thank you.
- Thank Miss Pickford.

- She is your champion.
- Anyone who helps us

- with our work is a champion.
- Thank you, Detective Murdoch

and Doctor Ogden. Merry Christmas.

(soft laugh)

Merry Christmas. There ya go.

Merry Christmas.

Lads!

Ah, Sir! I thought you'd
be home with your family.

I'll have plenty of time
for my family later today.

- Where's Higgins?
- The lure of Elsie McVie

- was too much.
- Ha ha!

Can't blame the lad for trying. (chuckles)

Thank you for coming, Inspector. You know,

Christmas time is a special
time when we can all...

Jackson, enough. I'm here, aren't I?

Indeed you are, Inspector.
Oh, who wants this big one?

It really is a special time, isn't it?

Charitable donations, doing something good.

It's as though you can
truly feel the magic of...

Where did that came from?

Oh, I think I have an idea.

Do you now, Great Detective?

(chuckles)

Oh, and I think she needs arresting.

No! William.

(giggling)

- We're running low.
- I can see that.

Looks like the mighty Higgins struck out.

Higgins! Best of the season.

- And to you, George.
- So Elsie McVie...

Spoken for already, apparently.

- That's a shame, Henry.
- It's OK,

The camera provided a
more flattering picture

- than the reality.
- Ha ha ha! Well, come join us.

I will! But first,

- there's someone I'd like you to meet.
- (gasp)

Surprise. Merry Christmas, Georgie!

Aunt Azalia! Aunt Ivy!

- I thought...
- We pulled a fast one on you!

- Merry Christmas, Georgie.
- Sir!

- My aunts! They came!
- Yes, I see that!

Hello, ladies!

It appears we've arrived too late.

Uh, yes sir, uh...

more children than presents, I'm afraid.

What about those?

Good gracious. Where did those come from?

Does it matter?

Ooh! Christmas truly is here.

Aunt Azalia!

Alright, who doesn't have a present yet?

- Here's a lovely one for you.
- There you go!

Thank you, thank you for you.

And to you: Merry Christmas!

Did you see that?

See what?

You saw him. I know you did.

Merry Christmas!

♪ Joy to the world ♪

♪ The Lord is come ♪

♪ Let earth receive her King ♪

♪ Let every heart ♪

♪ Prepare him room ♪

♪ And heaven and nature sing ♪

- It's lovely!
- ♪ And heaven and nature sing ♪

♪ And heaven and heaven ♪

♪ And nature sing ♪

♪ Joy to the world ♪

♪ The Lord is come ♪

♪ Let earth receive her King ♪

♪ Let every heart ♪

♪ Prepare him room ♪

♪ And heaven and nature sing ♪
♪ And heaven and nature ♪

♪ Sing And heaven and nature ♪
♪ And heaven and nature sing ♪

♪ And heaven, and heaven ♪

♪ And nature sing ♪

- synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -