All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S03E04 - Rich Boy, Poor Boy (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

Hoist the mainsail!

Aye, aye, Cap'n.

There's a fair wind blowin'.
They'll not catch us now.

There's treasure
beyond your wildest dreams

on Skeleton Island, Bobby.

My Lord, it's hot as an oven
today, Mrs. Brackenreid.

I hear the thermometer may go
as high as 98 degrees.

Hotter here than the city
of Los Angeles, California.

Whoa!
Waves are blowing in now!

Your son's a fine young boy.

Kind of you to say,
Miss Williams.

Can I wear your hat?
It's my turn to be John Silver.

Aye, Captain!

My husband says
Bobby lives in a dream cloud.

And he's not far wrong.

It's their time for dreams.

Lord knows
that ends soon enough.

Captain.

Land ahoy!

Help!
Help me!

Someone! Hurry!

Whatever's that?

- Oh, my.
- Help me! Someone! Hurry!

Looks like we're on our own.

That's all right.
Pirates can do anything alone.

What happened?

My wages!
He's got my week's wages.

My goodness, dear,
are you all right?

A man stole my purse.
He ran up...

Which way did he go?

That way, I think.

What am I to do?

There, there, dear.
Here.

Would you recognize the culprit?

- I think so.
- Then you must report this.

The sooner you do, the better
chance of recovering your wages.

I'll tell
the first constable I see.

All right.

What a terrible thing to happen.

You see it more and more
these days.

It's not fair, Miss Williams!
It's not fair!

What, Robert?
What's not fair?

How come I can't go
on the adventure like Bobby?

And what adventure is that?

The man said
only Bobby could go.

Man? What man?

Bobby?! Bobby?!

Bobby?!

Bobby?! Bobby?!

Bobby?!

Oh!

Thomas!
Thomas, come quickly!

- Margaret? What's happened?
- Bobby's gone!

- What do you mean, gone?
- He's been taken!

Murdoch!

Nothing.
Bloody nothing.

Sir, it occurs to me --

Not knowing the motive
for the abduction,

concerns arise
for your other boy.

I appreciate that, Murdoch.

Fortunately John's staying in
Grimsby with Margaret's sister.

Ah.
Very good, sir.

So a crime scene
as dry as a desert

and not a clue to be found.

Then we must rely on
what we know.

Mrs. Brackenreid
and the other boy's nanny

were sitting here.

And no passersby
in the vicinity.

Then the victim of
the purse snatching cried out.

The young woman was assaulted
by the purse snatcher here.

The sight lines to where
the boys were playing

are very poor.

So this thief clips a passerby,
causing a commotion.

- Exactly. While a second man...
- Grabs my son.

One crime disguised as two.
At least a possibility.

Excuse me, sirs. This purse was
found in the bushes over yonder.

The thief has relieved the
poor young girl of her money.

The young woman
who was assaulted.

A Miss Evie Dewar.

She hailed Constable Hoover
on Carlton Street.

She's given her statement.

I'll need her
to look at some photographs

at the station house, George.

Sir.

We'll need to talk to the nanny
and the Stanton boy.

Sir, that's Stanton as in
Stanton Breweries, is it not?

Are you all right, sir?

What?
I said let's get on with it.

A young boy
taken in broad daylight.

This city's going to the dogs.

You have my sympathies,
Inspector Brackenreid.

Much appreciated,
Mr. Stanton.

Now, is your boy's nanny around?

I assumed you'd be stopping in.

Miss Williams has instructions
to speak freely with you.

We'll need to speak with your
boy Robert, as well, sir.

My wife will arrange that.

You sent for me, sir?

See the officers to
the sitting room, please, Lucy.

Right away, sir.

Now, commiserations aside,
gentlemen,

business at the brewery awaits.

There was nothing unusual,
Inspector.

Mrs. Brackenreid and I
were commenting on the heat,

watching the young boys play.

Then we heard the young woman
call for help.

Did you see the purse snatcher,
Miss Williams?

I'm sorry, no.

Do Bobby and Robert usually
play together at the fort?

The wife says it's pirates

morning, noon, and night
with the lads.

He's right.

Robert is fascinated
with "Treasure Island."

Thank you, Miss Williams.

Mrs. Stanton, I presume.
Inspector Brackenreid.

Detective Murdoch.

This is so worrisome.

How are you faring, Inspector?

Fine.

And you must be Master Robert.

Are you a real policeman?

Yes, I am.

And I need your help
to find Bobby.

Yes, sir.

Robert, what do you remember
about what happened in the park?

A man came over to us.

Did he talk to you?

It's all right, Robert.

He wanted to take Bobby on
an adventure with real pirates.

He said I could go next time.

- Did he hurt Bobby?
- No, sir.

What did he look like?

He had a big hat, sir.

Was he young or old?

Old like you.

Did he sport a beard
or mustache?

Glasses, perhaps?

No, sir.

You've done very well, Robert.

There'll be a policeman
coming by

to help you make a picture
of the man.

Yes, sir.

- Time for lunch, Master Robert.
- Thank you, Lucy.

Oh, please pass on my sincere
thoughts to Mrs. Brackenreid.

I'll be sure to.

This must be
such a terrible time for you.

I -- I never thought
I would have a child.

The day Robert came
into our lives was a miracle.

The very thought
of losing him...

Yes, madam.

Bobby's disappearance
was a planned abduction.

One man could have carried out
both crimes,

snatching the purse here

and then running
through the woods

all the way back
to the boys' fort.

It's a distance.
But it could be done.

We're more likely looking for
two men working together.

I've arranged for Miss Dewar to
look through police photographs

for any possible suspects.

Did young Stanton come up with
a portrait of the kidnapper?

Our sketch artist got
an excellent likeness, sir,

but only of the kidnapper's hat.

- Are you being funny, Crabtree?
- No, sir.

What do you think, Murdoch?

I've been in this job
enough years

to have made a few enemies.

A logical place to start.

I'll pull together a list.

George, also look into any
recent child-abduction cases.

Sir.

Well, you heard him.
Let's get moving.

The chances of Bobby's safe
return diminish by the hour.

We must consider
all possibilities, sir.

Some quite distasteful.

I know what you have to do,
Murdoch.

When Miss Dewar comes in,

we'll show her photographs
we have of known pederasts.

I wish there was a way
to keep tabs on these bastards.

Sir...

If they've touched
one single hair on his head...

Thomas?

Who's "they"?
Do you know who took Bobby?

No, Margaret.
I was just saying.

Mrs. Brackenreid, we'll not rest
until your son is returned.

It's all my fault.
I should never have left him.

I'm going out of my mind!

Margaret.
Margaret, listen to me.

I swear to you
I'll bring Bobby home.

But you must have faith in me
and the department.

But now...
Now there's work to be done.

You go right ahead.

I'll wait here
until there is news.

William.

I just heard about
Bobby Brackenreid.

Is there something I can do?

At this point,
I'm not quite sure.

Julia,
should we hear the worst...

Thomas had just come
out of the army

when Father asked him to join
the family's plumbing business.

Really?

He'd have made a good plumber,
I thought.

But his heart was set
on the police force.

I'm sure it can't be easy
married to a policeman.

I knew what I was getting into.

No point in complaining
about the long hours.

And the worry.

But still...

I worried more
after we had the boys.

If something should happen
to Thomas...

I never dreamed it would be
one of the boys in danger.

Can I interest you in a stroll,
Mrs. Brackenreid?

The air in here is so still.

Do you think Thomas would mind?

I think
it would be perfectly fine.

Do you recognize
any of these men, Miss Dewar?

I only saw him a moment.

Take your time.

I didn't expect so much fuss
over me and my purse.

Me being a duster girl and all.

It does a heart good.

We try to be thorough.

It might be this man, Detective.

But I can't be
on-my-life certain.

You were seen in Seton Park
this morning.

I don't go to Seton Park.

Mr. Carson,
this is a serious matter.

A 7-year-old boy is missing.

I had nothing to do with it.

If you've got any idea
what's in your best interest,

you'll tell us where the boy is.

7-year-olds
are a little young for me.

Where the bloody hell
have you got my son?!

I wish I had seen
your lovely boy.

Inspector.

Sit down.

What if that
bastard's got my little boy?

Sir, if we don't keep our wits
about us, mistakes will be made.

Keep my wits?
Is that what you suggest?

I realize this must be difficult
for you.

I find out that Jeb Carson was
within half a mile of that park,

I'll put the noose
around his neck myself.

We'll keep him here
until we can speak to his alibi.

I don't care if the Archbishop
of Canterbury can vouch for him.

He's staying in the cells
until Bobby gets back

safe and sound.

These types
makes my flesh crawl.

We're tracking down
as many as we can, sir.

The thought of Bobby
with somebody like that is...

Sirs, Mr. Stanton is here.

This arrived
with the morning mail.

Frankly, I'm mystified.

"We are wanting $10,000
for your son.

Our instructions
we will soon deliver."

They've snatched your boy
as well?

No. Robert isn't missing.
He's home with his mother.

Sir, I believe
the kidnappers think they have

Mr. Stanton's son.

They took the wrong boy
from the park.

Margaret.

It was a mistake?

- So it seems.
- Thank God!

They'll let Bobby go the moment
they realize their error!

- That could be the case, but --
- I should go.

He'll be home any minute.
He'll be tired and hungry.

Yes, you go home.
I'll be along shortly.

- I'll go with her.
- Thank you, Doctor.

Well, Margaret's got
one thing right.

Bobby's no use
to the kidnappers.

But if they find out
who he really is,

they won't let him go.

They'll kill him.

Thank you for your cooperation,
Mr. Stanton.

It's critical
that the kidnappers believe

that it's your son
they've taken.

Not too bright,
taking the wrong boy.

Amateurs, no doubt.
Makes them more dangerous.

Whatever the case,

could there be a personal motive
behind this?

Would one of your
former business associates

be capable of this crime?

I suppose.

I didn't raise myself up in
business by courting popularity.

Does anyone else come to mind?

Former household staff
with a grievance, perhaps?

I recall a disgruntled employee
or two.

We'll need a list
of those names, please.

You shall have
all the names you need.

Mr. Stanton, we would like you
to deliver the ransom.

If you're agreeable.

Of course.
It's a matter of civic duty.

Good. Then I'll
put the money together.

All you need to do is drop
it off under our watchful eye.

Fine.

Now, if that's all,

I'll contact you once I've heard
from the kidnappers.

Good day.

My God, Murdoch, how long
can we keep up this pretense?

Bobby himself could have let it
slip that he's not a Stanton.

Then we'll have to work quickly.

"Our instructions
we will soon deliver."

What kind of claptrap is that?

"We will soon deliver."
Hmm.

The time qualifier
comes before the verb.

Well, it's cocked up,
but what does it signify?

If I recall from my language
lessons in secondary school,

the wording would suggest
German syntax.

Syntax?

Yes, the German language
is very precise.

Unique in some ways.

- The kidnapper's German?
- Or pretending to be.

What are you looking at?

The watermark.

Sir, Ramsden's Printers supplies
stock with this watermark

to a number
of different companies.

Thank you, George.

You may want to draw
your attention

to the bottom of the list, sir.

Stanton Brewery.

Stanton?

Everything's on the cheap
with him.

Not an easy man
to work for, then?

Look, talk to anyone here,
Inspector.

They'll tell you.

Hey, Pete.

Yeah, Ned?

Pete Morgan, shift foreman.

The inspector
and the detective here

want to know about the boss.

They say that
Stanton's son's been kidnapped.

Get off.

Gentlemen, we are eager to speak
with any workers

who may have wished
Mr. Stanton harm.

Hell of a long line
that would be, huh?

See those barrels behind you?

Try heaving them up on the dray
day in, day out,

without crippling yourself.

Stanton doesn't care.

You lose a couple of fingers?

He'll dock your pay
for time off.

And don't go getting sick,
or you're out, friend.

And no free beer, neither.

Yes, well, that's all
very well and good.

And there ought to be
a law against it.

But we're looking for someone

who had a real grievance
against the man.

Maybe they should talk
to Otto Schroeder, eh?

The brewmaster.

Hates Stanton like hornet soup.

And didn't come in today
till noon.

Schroeder.

Fine German name.

If you would please
just sign your name here.

It's true I have no love
for Herr Stanton.

Why is that, Mr. Schroeder?

10 years ago
we were to set up a business.

He wanted to open a brewery,
but he knew nothing.

I am a brewmaster,
trained by my grandfather.

I have the knowledge.

And he had the money.

We signed an agreement
for my recipe.

$25 he paid.

My recipe --
a fine German lager --

built his fortune.

$25!

So he cheated you.

Oh, no.
He sees it not like that.

No, no, no.

"I paid you," he said,
"fair and square."

A swindle like that
needs to be set right.

- Ja.
- So you kidnapped his son.

We found the paper that
the ransom note was written on

in your office, Mr. Schroeder.

Many people come into my office.

Who are you working with?

And no more
of this "Was ist das?"

Who's your accomplice?

I know nothing
about accomplices.

Why weren't you at work
this morning?

- I felt ill.
- Where's the boy?!

You have the wrong man!

Stanton fleeced Herr Schroeder

out of his fair share
of, well, a fortune.

He had access
to the brewery stationery,

he missed work,
and he's a bloody Kraut.

He wrote that note.

But the handwriting
doesn't match, sir.

Oh, come on.

He knew
you were taking a sample.

He disguised his hand.

Sir, in handwriting analysis,

special attention is paid
to the stops and starts

of letter formations --
the pen lifts, if you will.

If a person is consciously

trying to
disguise their handwriting --

They'll hesitate
as they write the letters.

Exactly. A person's natural hand
has a smooth flow to it.

Schroeder was not trying
to fool us.

So?

You said yourself
there was two of them.

His partner could be
the literary genius.

Check Schroeder's alibi
and tear his house apart.

- But, sir --
- Just do it, Murdoch!

Yes, sir.

Deal with this, Sergeant.
Immediately.

There was nothing
at the Schroeder house.

Are you sure, Murdoch?
Absolutely sure?

Both his wife and neighbor
confirmed his alibi.

I'm sorry, sir.

All right, all right.
So, what else do we have?

There's nothing new.

The gardener and the maid
both have airtight alibis.

And the pederast, Jeb Carson,
is also in the clear.

- For this.
- Sirs.

The delivery from the bank.

Well, at least one thing's
gone right.

The bank's agreed
to front the ransom.

Helps to have a bank manager
who owes you a favor.

And don't ask.

What about Stanton's
business associates?

Well, it seems
every hops supplier in town

has had a run-in with the man.

I spoke with a builder
who claims he's never been paid.

But they all have alibis.

The ransom note does connect the
kidnapper to Stanton Brewery.

But if Schroeder
wasn't involved...

That narrows it down to what,
hundred suspects at the brewery?

Interview them all, will you?

Well, sir, with all respect,
what I think you should do --

I don't want you to think,
Crabtree!

I want you to bloody act!

My son has now been missing
seven hours.

Yes, sir.

I want some bloody answers,
Murdoch.

We're all working
as hard as we can, sir.

This Stanton.

You can't treat people
like -- like slaves

and not expect the consequences.

Man's put my boy
in mortal danger.

Inspector.

You. Stanton.

One spark of decency in you

and none of this
would have happened.

Inspector. Please.

Mr. Stanton,
have you any news?

This came in the afternoon mail.

What does it say?

"The bag you must leave
in the 15th pew."

There's that bloody
German syntax again.

"In St. Michael's Church.
8:00 p.m."

That only gives us half an hour.

I came here
as quickly as I could.

Well, that wasn't
quickly enough, was it?

What exactly are you implying?

Inspector, I realize
you're under a great strain,

but you must understand

I'm being as cooperative
as I can be.

Sir, they obviously mean
to deny us sufficient time

to devise a plan.

Well, I'll tell you
what the plan is.

Mr. Stanton
will drop off the bag.

We'll jump the bastard
who picks it up.

And I'll beat him to a pulp

until he tells us
where Bobby is.

Sir, I really don't think
that that --

Murdoch! That's the plan.
We don't have time to debate it.

Mr. Stanton.

Got you, you bastard!
Come here!

- Where's the boy, eh?!
- What boy?!

Don't give me that!
Where is he?!

Lay off, will you?!

I got paid $2
to pick up the bag!

- Who paid you?!
- Sir!

I just saw the money.

Sir!
I know this man.

- Go on, George.
- His name is Jack.

He's just a sot
from down at the docks.

He wouldn't hurt a soul

unless you got in the way
of his next bottle.

That's right.

You.
Where were you to take the bag?

Harvey's Lane.

Under the walkway.

Murdoch.

- Sir...
- What does it say?

It seems they've anticipated
our actions.

They want $20,000.

Sir.

I've tried, but I cannot lift
any fingermarks

from the ransom notes.

Where am I gonna get
another $10,000

before the next drop, Murdoch?

Don't lose heart, sir.

- This latest ransom note...
- What about it?

It's evident
the kidnappers still believe

that they have the Stanton boy.

They don't realize
they have Bobby.

Where is he, Murdoch?

We'll find him, sir.

You want children someday,
don't you?

I hope to have a son someday.

I've not had
a lot of time for mine,

what with this bloody job
and everything.

I've left it all to Margaret.

Understandable.

If I'm being totally honest,
never really understood Bobby.

He exists in a fantasy world.

At the moment, it's all pirates
and buried treasure.

Games of imagination, sir.

A good father
makes time for his boy.

Shows him the way.

I swear by Almighty God, if --
if I can have him back...

You will.

Not without $20,000.

I don't understand.
Why hasn't Thomas telephoned?

Margaret, I'm sure
you'll be the first person

the inspector calls
if there's news.

No. He's keeping me in the dark
to protect me.

I'm sure Detective Murdoch
does the same for you.

Actually, despite the
often gruesome subject matter,

William and I talk quite openly.

Lucky you.

That all changes
when you get married.

And have children.

I suppose.

Though I'm not sure children
are in my future.

Still, Thomas is as fine
a father as one could want.

Last winter when the boys
had the croup,

Thomas went days without sleep
tending to them

and went to work every day
without complaint,

near collapse as he was.

That sounds like him.

I was so grateful.

But he wouldn't hear
a thank-you.

Policemen.
They have their moments.

Some reserved for you,
if you're lucky.

You're a steadfast
and loving wife, Margaret.

I admire you.
I honestly do. I...

Margaret?

We could use
counterfeit bills, sir.

That would take
too long to arrange.

Well, this looks like $20,000.

Surely the kidnappers
are going to

want to get back
to their hiding spot

rather than linger around
and count it all.

Let's hope so, George.
We have no other options.

The drop is in one hour,
gentlemen.

- Are we all set?
- The money's ready, sir.

- What's this?
- We've improvised.

$20,000 is a bit rich
on an inspector's salary.

That's taking
too big of a chance.

- What choice do I have?
- None.

That's why I brought this.

The additional $10,000.

I know what it is
to be a father.

Mr. Stanton.
You're a gentleman, sir.

If you insist, Inspector.

Now to business.

Detective, what's the plan?

Mr. Stanton, you will make the
drop at the mill as instructed.

I've studied the area
extensively, sir,

and I believe that I can observe
from a distance

without being discovered.

You and only you, Murdoch.

But you'll back off if there's
any chance you've been seen.

Yes, sir.

This time it's got to work.

Stop! Police!

Sir!
I think he's got the scent!

Come on, Murdoch.

We're heading south, sir.

The Old Humber Mill, sir.

Perhaps Bobby's been here
the whole time.

Murdoch.

Sir.

Sir.

It's Bobby's shoe.

Bastards have killed him.

Bobby!

Bobby!

Bobby.

It shouldn't
have been my boy.

I'm sorry, love.

You promised to bring him back!
You were to bring him back!

God.

Sir.

I'm sorry.
We've found nothing.

The body must have
been swept downriver.

George, I'll need you
to find a butcher's.

Just as I thought.

Sir?

George, stay here and don't let
anyone on this dock.

- Inspector.
- What is it, Murdoch?

- I've examined the dock.
- Oh, stop it.

It's finished.
It's over.

He was dead long before
we delivered the ransom.

- Sir, I believe --
- I failed, Murdoch.

I failed everyone.

Sir, I believe
Bobby may still be alive.

Don't.

Don't.

Please.

Don't you dare
give me false hope.

Inspector...

I don't say this lightly.

The geometric shape
of a bloodstain

determines the direction
it was traveling in

when it hit the ground.

See how the tip of the oval
points toward the shore.

What does that prove?

I created a second blood trail,

this time traveling
from the shore to the dock.

And you see the tip of the oval
now points towards the water.

- They don't match.
- Exactly.

Whoever created this blood trail

was traveling from the dock
to shore.

But the blood on the floor?

The pattern of the bloodstain --

a small spread,
no fine droplets --

suggests that
it was poured onto the floor

from a very low height.

What about Bobby's shoe?

These are rough fibers I found
in the blood from Bobby's shoe.

I believe a piece of sackcloth
was used

to rub blood on the shoe.

Bobby's death was staged, sir.

He's alive.

Right, then.
It was staged.

So why do the bastards
want us to think he's dead?

So we would stop looking.

William.

Perhaps one of the kidnappers
could be a woman.

Go on.

A woman perhaps unable

to have a child of her own
and desperate for one.

It's not unheard of.

Just any child,

or young Robert Stanton
in particular?

I never thought
I would have a child.

The day Robert came
into our lives was a miracle.

If the kidnapper is a woman,

perhaps she was in the park
that day.

I didn't expect so much fuss
over me and my purse.

It might be this man,
Detective.

We should see if Evie Dewar

has had any sudden need
to leave town.

Do you really think
she could be

one of the kidnappers?

She's cleaned out her flat
and skipped out on her rent.

Not the actions
of an innocent victim.

But, sir, she walked
right into the station --

And pointed us to the pederast,
Jeb Carson.

We'd be sure to take that bait.

So after the so-called attack,

her accomplice doubles back
to the fort and takes Bobby.

Possibly.

So then, sir,
who exactly do you want to

show this sketch
of Evie Dewar to?

If I'm right.

To a woman
who was once desperate

for a child of her own.

Detective, I don't understand
why you're showing this to me.

You don't recognize this woman?

No.

Darling?

Detective, what has this
got to do with anything?

Mr. and Mrs. Stanton,

the safe return
of the inspector's son

may depend on your willingness
to speak of something

I believe you've held in secret
for a number of years.

- My word, sir.
- No.

Dear.

It's all right.

No, Detective,
I did not give birth to Robert.

I couldn't have --

We couldn't have children.

I'm terribly sorry.

If I may.

Just how did you come to find
your son?

This -- This is Molly Morgan.

She's Robert's, um...

She's the one who borne him.

You knew her?

She lived in a tenement
near me.

No more than 16.
All by herself.

And in trouble
in more ways than one.

She was going to prison
for thieving,

and the little fella
would end up in an orphanage.

I knew Mrs. Stanton
wanted a baby very badly.

And Molly was willing
to give up her child.

Oh, that was powerful sad
to see, that day.

But it was better
than the children's home.

Where would we find Miss Morgan?

Oh, sir, I've -- I've no idea.
None -- None at all.

Crabtree.

I want to hear
that you've found something.

Inspector, I believe I have.

We have three Molly Morgans
on file.

Now, I don't know if any of them
gave birth seven years ago --

that being
Robert Stanton's age --

but one of them
did just get out of jail.

Seven years for larceny.

Well, she's got to be the one.

Seven years is a long time

to think about the child
you gave up.

And a long time
to plan to get him back.

But she didn't pull this off
by herself, Murdoch.

No, sir.

And let's not forget
whoever wrote the ransom notes

has a connection
to Stanton Brewery.

Crabtree, how many of Stanton's
employees have we questioned?

- A dozen.
- Is that all?

Can we connect any of them
to Molly Morgan?

None that I can think of, sir.

Hold on.

The name of the shift foreman
we met at Stanton's brewery?

What was his name?

Hey, Pete.

Pete Morgan.

Pete Morgan.

George,
telephone Stanton Brewery

and find out if Pete Morgan
showed up for work today.

This Morgan fellow --

As I remember, there was
no love lost for Stanton.

No, sir.

So you're telling me
we almost had him in our hands.

Bollocks!

Sir, there's now way we could
have known at the time.

Sirs, Pete Morgan
quit yesterday.

Get an address.

205 Brunswick Avenue.
Thank you.

Come on, Murdoch.

Do you have a telephone
for 205 Brunswick Avenue?

Sirs!

- Sirs, stop!
- What is it, George?

I just spoke
with Pete Morgan's landlord.

He moved out three days ago.

Oh, bollocks.

It's not over yet, sir.
Let's think.

Pete Morgan may have moved out
three days ago,

but he was still working
at the brewery

up until yesterday.

- He must be staying nearby.
- Yeah, but where?

George, the city directories
and survey maps.

Sirs, I think I have something.

This survey map of Etobicoke.

A lot belonging to M & P Morgan

right here
near the Humber River.

Molly and Pete.

And it's less than a mile
from where Bobby was being held.

Irving, grab the map.
Mitchell, get the carriages.

This must be it, sir.

Pray to God
that Bobby's in there.

It's the only cabin on the lot.

Right, then.

Sir, we don't know
what we're in for.

Oh!

That's Morgan, all right.

Sir, let us take care of it.

Once he's in custody,
I'm straight in that cabin.

Yes, sir.

Toronto Police.
Be quiet.

Is the boy in the cabin?
Well?

Are you gonna take me home now,
like you promised?

We're going to a new home.

A wonderful new home.

Daddy.

Who are you?

I'm Thomas Brackenreid,
Miss Morgan.

I've come for my son.

Sorry, mister, this is my boy.
Get out of here!

Daddy.

It's all right, Bobby.

You made a mistake.
You took the wrong boy.

No, he's mine. You can tell.
He looks just like me.

This isn't the Stanton boy,
Molly.

He's not yours.

Get back.

No one is taking him
away from me!

I won't lose him again.
I won't.

It must be terrible
to have to give up

your own flesh and blood.

What my wife and I have been
through these last two days,

we know how you must have felt.

What would you know?

I have him back,
and that's all that matters.

This boy has a mother.

She's waiting for him.

This is his father,
come to take him home.

I don't believe you.
Why are you lying to me?

This isn't your boy.

And you know it, Molly.
A mother knows her own child.

You are my boy, aren't you?

No.
He's my dad.

I want to go home.

Go on home, then.

Ready to sail!

He seems no worse for wear
for his adventure.

Took it in his stride.
Chip off the old block.

You're a good man,
Thomas Brackenreid.

Daddy, you coming?

Excuse me, Margaret, but I think
my ship is about to sail.

Hold on, me hearties!
Hold on!

Thank you.

- Catch!
- Throw me a sword.

En guard!

It's clear the thought
of reuniting with her son

sustained Molly Morgan
while she was in prison.

Becoming something
of an obsession, I would think.

Her only wish.

The ransom demands
were her brother's idea.

Taking advantage
of your own sister's desire

to have her son back --
That's monstrous.

I do feel some sympathy for her.

That's understandable.

If we hadn't arrived
when we did,

the Brackenreids may never
have seen their son again.

The inspector seems to be
adjusting well to pirate life.

What an ordeal.

Indeed.

Being a parent carries
such heavy responsibilities.

Though it appears
to have its rewards.

Here, lad.
Ha ha!

Whoa!

Yes, so it seems.

Over here, Mommy.

- Thank you, sir.
- Thank you.

Is she seaworthy, son?

You're getting good, yeah.

- All right. Like this?
- Just like that.