All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries S19E10

(train horn blaring)

(grand instrumental music)

- How much longer
is this going to take?

(Murdoch): Well, sir, we've just
stopped in Medicine Hat,

so I'd say we're almost there.

- Three bloody days.

I can't believe I let you talk
me into a second-class sleeper.

- It saved the department
a considerable amount of money.

- And it cost me a considerable
amount of sleep.

These Calgary Stampede folk
are going to invite police

from all over Canada,

at least they could pay
their fare.

- Seeing this rodeo in person
is payment enough for me.

I hear this Stampede
will draw cowboys

from across North America.

(thud)

- And it seems like they're
all on this bloody train.

Wake me up when
we get to Calgary.

(grand instrumental music)

(water rushing)

(birds chirping)

(grunting)

(instrumental music continues)

Oh. Finally!

I can breathe. Ho!

(exhales)

(distant shouting)

- All right, boys!

Welcome to the greatest
outdoor show on Earth.

Welcome!

Cowboy tents are over
by the arena.

Go on, go on.

I don't see any spurs
on you boys.

You must be policemen.

- From Toronto. Chief Constable
Thomas Brackenreid.

- Detective William Murdoch.

- I heard about you two.
I was looking forward

to meeting you.
Glad you could make it out.

Name's Guy Weadick.
- We wouldn't have missed it

for the world, Mr. Weadick.

- Will there be a briefing
for the policemen in attendance?

- I heard he was a bit
of a stickler, as well.

(laughing)

Yeah, we're going to do one

tomorrow before
the Stampede opens.

Police tents are over yonder.

'Til then, have some fun
on the range, gentlemen.

(kissing to horse)

- You heard him, Murdoch.
Let's go seek out some fun.

- Uh, uh, I'll get the luggage.

(horse neighing)

(tense music)

(woman): Anyone think
they can beat me?

Come on! Let's see what ya got!

- Is that who I think it is?

- I can shoot the fly
off a bird's hind end.

Just watch me.

(gunshots)

(man): Wow. Did she miss that?

(crowd laughing, applauding)

- Miss Annie Oakley.

Not bad at all.
See you've still got it.

- Tom Brackenreid,
as I live and breathe.

(chuckling)

- And if it isn't
Mr. Tidy Detective.

- Wonderful to see you again,
Miss Oakley.

- Likewise. You fellas
in town for the rodeo?

- We've had a personal
invitation from the man

who's running the show.
- Huh.

Gents, these are two
of the finest coppers

in the country, and yet, I can
still shoot better than them.

- Oh. Well, there's more to
policing than shooting firearms.

- Well, that sounds like
an excuse to me.

What do you say?

(Brackenreid laughing)
A dime if you make the shot.

(man): Help! Help!

- It's coming from the arena.
Come on, Murdoch.

- Look out. Police!
Coming through.

There's a rider down, sir.

- He's probably trampled
by a horse.

- Roy!

He-he's dead?

(tense music)

You...

You killed my brother!

- Take him away, lads!
Get him out of here!

Remind me never to come
on holiday with you again.

(theme music)

Why are you blaming
that cowboy?

- 'Cause he was supposed
to distract the horse

if the rider falls,
and help the rider out

of the pen,
and he just stood there.

Damn him!

- Did you see what happened?

- Sure, I saw my brother got
thrown and I saw him do nothing!

- What could I do?

Horse was on him
before I could reach him.

- What are you talking about?

I saw you out there.
You could've helped!

- I know you're looking to be
mad at someone.

It ain't me!

I'm sorry, Luka.

- You should arrest him.

- Go out of the arena.

Calm down and take a breath.

Go on.

- Sir, I-I've just seen
something very strange.

The dead man's pupils
are dilated.

- Isn't that natural
after death?

- Not immediately.

My best guess is that they were
dilated before he passed.

Perhaps Mr. Wilde
was under the influence

of some kind of drug.

- Maybe he took something
before the ride.

- Or someone else drugged him.

(tense music)

- Ellis Boone.
I've seen him at a few rodeos.

- Luka Wilde holds him
responsible

for his brother's death.

- Everybody's mad at Ellis.

- If Murdoch is right
and Roy was drugged,

how likely is it that Ellis
was involved in his death?

- I don't know him
all that well,

but folks say he has a temper.

- I want to talk to him.

- Yeah, you and about
a hundred other cowboys.

It's probably why he's made
himself scarce.

Tom!

This here is Tom Three Persons.
Hell of a bronc rider.

- Tom Brackenreid,
Toronto police.

We're looking for this
pickup man, Mr. Boone.

- I'm looking for him, too.

The hell was he doing,

standing around
when Roy went down?

- So you heard what happened?

- Yeah.

And you can talk to him
after I finish tearing

a strip off him.
If I can find him.

- You won't be tearing
a strip off anyone.

For now, this is police
business, so you stay out of it.

- See ya.

- Maybe not the best way

to make friends around here.

- I'll tell you what,
friends are overrated.

- Well, I am headed to the bar
for a drink.

Would you care to join?
(chuckling)

- In normal circumstances,
Miss Oakley, I would love to.

But I need to find this
Mr. Boone

before someone else does.

- Mm.

Why don't you tell
that tidy detective

that there's still a dime
on the line,

whenever he's ready.

- Don't underestimate Murdoch.

(phone ringing)

- Llewellyn.

- Serge. What are you
doing here?

- I thought I might
speak with you.

- It's been a while
since we last saw each other.

(clears throat)
You never returned my messages.

- There's been a lot going on.

I need your help.

A-As a detective.

There's a problem with my boss,
Mr. Sands at Dario's.

I think he's in some
kind of trouble.

- What kind of trouble?

- Last week, I saw him arguing
with two men in the alley

at the back of the restaurant.
- What was the argument about?

- I couldn't hear.
Then, today, they came back

and roughed him up.

- Who were these men?

- He wouldn't tell me.

And he wouldn't tell me
what they want.

- So you'd like me to find out?

- It must be serious.

After he cleaned up,
he said he was thinking

of closing down for good.

But Mr. Sands
loves his restaurant.

- And you're worried about him.

- I've worked with him
for the last three years.

He's been good to me.

- I'll speak with him.

- Thank you, Llewellyn.

- Ah, Detective Watts.

- Of course. Uh,
and I'm sorry I didn't call.

- Oh, don't mention it.
Shall we?

(indistinct chatter)

- Are you rifling through
a dead man's satchel?

- I believe Big Roy Wilde
was drugged with a narcotic

before he died.

- Drugged? What do you mean?

- People said that he was fine
before he got on the horse,

but then became unsteady, shaky.

- Maybe it was something else.
His heart, or some such.

- His pupils were dilated,

which is a very strong indicator

that he was under
the influence--

- If he was,
it's his own damn fault.

- Everyone I've spoken to

said that that's not something
Roy Wilde would ever do.

- So-so you're saying someone
drugged him?

I don't believe it.

- I understand that the, uh,

purse for the bronc-riding
competition

is the largest that's ever been
put up by a rodeo.

- $1,000 and a fine saddle.

I just can't seem to think
that any of these cowboys

would be so low and underhanded
as to kill a man to get it.

- $1,000?

- Yes, sir.

- I'm begging your pardon, sir,

but in my experience,

I have to disagree.

Um...

This is litmus paper.

And it will change to purple

if any substance,
such as an opiate,

has been added to this canteen.

(tense music)

- It's purple. Huh.

So, you're saying one
of the competitors did this?

- That's what I intend
to find out.

- Me, too.

(horse neighing)

(indistinct chatter)

- Yeah, I knew Big Roy Wilde.

And I saw his brother
shooting targets this morning.

And he's damn good.

- Mr. Heedly, I understand
you were about to compete

against Big Roy Wilde
in the bronc-riding competition.

- Yeah. We've gone up against
each other a few times.

- I was told that, uh, Mr. Wilde
frequently bested you.

- Well, he ain't doing
that anymore.

- I've also learned that, uh,

Roy Wilde was drugged

before he attempted
to ride that bronco.

- Drugged?

Shoot, I don't know nothing
about drugs.

Only vices I got
are whiskey and women.

- Where were you before
Mr. Wilde stepped into the ring?

- I was right beside it,
with plenty other fellas.

I don't need to cheat to win.

And, besides, I
ain't the favourite now.

That Indian is.

(coins clank)

(tense music)

- Big Roy and I rode together
a few times.

- As a competitor,
Mr. Three Persons?

- Call me Tom.

And to answer your question, no.

We worked as drovers.

Worked a drive across
the border last spring.

- The prize money
for this Stampede is significant

and it's said that you
are the favourite to win.

- We'll see. But I wouldn't
hurt my friend, Detective.

- Well, then, do you know
of anyone who would've wanted

to harm or kill Mr. Wilde?

- Like his brother said,
that pickup man, Ellis Boone.

Last year, down in Cheyenne,

Big Roy got into it with Ellis.

Said Ellis was a coward.

- Is Mr. Boone afraid
to ride broncos?

- Or go anywhere near 'em,
according to Big Roy.

Ellis took a swing at him,

Big Roy knocked him clean out.

- Could this have been
Mr. Boone seeking revenge?

- Talk to him.

(intriguing music)

(horse neighing)

- There's that pickup man.

- Mr. Boone!

We'd like a word.
(gunshot)

(grunts)

(bystanders screaming)

- Well, it looks like he packed
all his worldly belongings.

- He was leaving
the Stampede grounds?

- But not in the direction
of either gate.

Maybe he was making his way down
to the police tents?

- Right. Uh, he was shot
when he was facing this way,

which means the shot would have
come from quite a distance,

necessitating a rifle,
but a rifle would have left

an exit wound,
and there isn't one.

- The cheek of it,
killing him in front of us

and all these people.

- I talked to all those folks.
Nobody saw anything.

- Uh, look, I have to ask.

- Me? I know I might be
the best shot around,

but I've never shot a man,
and I don't intend to start,

even if it's tempting.
- Mm. Right.

I'll get a couple of constables,

and we'll get his body
into the tent.

(sighs)

- Miss Oakley, with me, please.

Let's retrace the path
of this bullet.

Now, Mr. Boone was shot
in the front,

and he was facing west,

therefore the bullet had to have
come from this direction.

- But the shooter couldn't have
been standing there.

Everybody would have seen him.
- Including me. I was--

What is this?

There's a dent
in this metal sign.

- A ricochet shot,

which means the shooter
was standing over there.

- Where no one could see him.

- Oh. That is quite
an impressive shot.

I know a lot of great marksmen,
but...

- Well, who might they be?

- Well, next best to myself

would probably be
Big Roy's brother, Luka.

(indistinct chatter)

- Detective.

I hear Ellis was shot
right in front of you.

- Very near me, yes.
But no one saw the shooter.

- So you have no idea
who did it?

- I'm actually here to speak
with Big Roy's younger brother.

- I've got investors
breathing down my neck.

This Stampede
hasn't even started,

and it's already bound
for failure.

- And that's why
you have us here, Mr. Weadick.

I assure you we'll get
to the bottom of this.

- And I appreciate it.
Just, please, be discreet.

(indistinct chatter)

What can we do for you,
Detective?

- I was hoping to speak
with Mr. Wilde here.

Um...

Mr. Wilde, where were you
when Mr. Boone was shot?

- I was with Tom,
at the Indian Village.

- I'll vouch for that.

- Obviously,
you blamed Mr. Boone
for your brother's death.

- Look, I-I was angry and I...

I said some things
that I regret.

- If you want a list of people
who saw us

at the Indian Village
when Boone died,

I'll get you it.

- That won't be necessary.

But do either of you know
of anyone else

who may have been angry
at Mr. Boone?

- Well, you now, I-I saw Ellis
arguing with Link Bowman.

Must've been an hour
before he was shot.

- Uh, if I may, uh...

You'll want to hold the rope

much further behind the honda.
Uh...

And to let out another coil.

But, uh, most importantly,

you-you want to follow through
across.

Uh... like this.

- Nicely done. Where'd you
learn how to do that?

- Oh, I paid my dues
on a ranch a long time ago.

- Is that so?

- You were overheard having
a heated discussion

with Ellis Boone shortly
before he was killed.

- Heated? I wouldn't say that.

- Then how would you
characterize

your talk with him, Mr. Bowman?

(horses neighing)

- Ellis blamed himself
for Big Roy's death.

I was telling him to stay,
but he was upset.

- Did you discuss anything else?

- No. What else
would I say to him?

- Why did you want him to stay?

- I just knew he'd regret it

if he left before
this Stampede started.

It's gonna be the biggest show
in the west.

(female rider): Hya!

- And you are set to compete
in the, uh,

bronco-riding competition also.

- Sure am.

But before you go accusing me,

I would never harm
another man to win.

You can ask anyone here.

- Oh, we plan on doing that,
sunshine.

- Sunshine? I like that.

- Where did you go after your
conversation with Mr. Ellis?

- Back to my tent.

- Alone?

- Unfortunately.

But that is something
I aim to change tonight

at the dance.

(tense instrumental music)

(birds chirping)

(indistinct chatter)

- Miss Oakley.

What were you doing
in Mr. Boone's tent?

- I was checking to see if he,

or whoever shot him,
had left anything behind.

And look at this.

A hundred and fifty dollars.

It was in his tent
with a rock on top.

That's all he left.

- That's a lot of money
for a cowboy.

- Well, Ellis Boone didn't
have a dollar to his name.

So, what was he doing
with that kind of money?

- And why did he
leave it behind?

(church bells ringing)

- I talked to the man
who supplies the restaurant.

- Mr. Grews. And?

- It was clear he's being
threatened.

By whom, I don't know.

- Likely the same men
who are threatening Mr. Sands.

- Perhaps a larger butcher
is trying to get rid

of the competition.
I'll have to go to each of them,

all across Toronto,
could take a while.

- Do you know Mark Gilbert Meats
on Fenshaw Avenue?

- Yes. A new butcher shop,
isn't it?

- Mr. Mark Gilbert called to
book a table at eight o'clock.

- Mr. Sands said
he wasn't opening tonight.

- That's what I thought.

But a meat delivery arrived
this afternoon

from Gilbert's butcher shop.

- Is that so?

- Mr. Sands went pale
when I told him about

the reservation.
He said nothing can go wrong

for Mr. Gilbert tonight.

- Well, if that's the case,

I think Dario's could use
another waiter.

- You're not suggesting--
- You have a spare uniform?

(indistinct chatter)

- Ah!
(chuckling)

A civilized man.

Here's to the gentlemen
among cowboys.

Let me buy you a drink.

Ah, Mr. Ethan Tripp.

- Chief Constable
Thomas Brackenreid,

Toronto Constabulary.
And what brings you out here?

Are you part of the Stampede,
or a police officer?

Oh! God, no!
(chuckling)

Look, between me and you,

it's time the businessmen
of Calgary stopped encouraging

this frontier parade.

The city of Calgary should be
promoting progress

and stop playing
at cowboys and Indians.

- Who the hell
do you think you are?

- Look, uh, nobody
wants any trouble in here.

- You should follow me outside
and we'll settle this for good.

- Why don't you
sit down and relax?

Here, have a drink on me.

- I'll sit down
when I'm good and ready.

A toast.

To the Stampede!

(all cheering)

- What are you celebrating, hm?

My brother died
out in that ring today.

- We'll get to the bottom
of this, son.

The truth will come out.

- Oh, and they'll just keep
carrying on in the meantime?

I've had enough of these folks.

This whole Stampede
can go to the devil.

(spits)

(door opens)

(door slams)

(Weadick): I hear you know your
way around a rope, Detective.

(Murdoch): Oh. I was just giving
Luka Wilde a bit of help,

that's all.
- Mm.

That's part of being a cowboy.

Knowing what's right.

- Be that as it may,

someone here is responsible
for the death of two men.

- I just can't believe it.

- Perhaps you should
postpone the Stampede.

- Impossible.

I've advertised everywhere
from here to Texas.

Got everything riding on this.

- You've had a man die
in the ring

and a pickup man that you hired
was shot in cold blood.

- All the riders know
they might not

come out of that ring alive.

And as for Ellis,
there's plenty of rifles around.

Could've been an accident.

- You don't believe
these two deaths are connected?

- All I'm saying
is that I'm not sure.

(man): Fire! Fire! Fire!

(Weadick): Oh no.

(distant shouting)

(tense music)

I just don't know
how this could have happened.

There isn't any electricity
to this tent,

so this couldn't have been
a frayed wire.

- Well, then it's most
certainly arson.

- Big Roy dead,
Ellis Boone shot.

I had all my money stolen,
and now this?!

- Y-You had money stolen?

- Someone broke into my lockbox.

Took all that was in there.

- Just how did they get into it?

- The girl who works
for me lost her key.

- How much was lost exactly?

- $150.

- Then I believe
I know who took it.

- Now remember to smile.
Slight nod when you greet them.

Neat movements.
- And serve from the left,

remove from the right.

- I'm not sure about this.

- Oh, don't worry.

I've gotten quite adept
at playing a role.

- They will be here
any moment. Are you ready?

- Yes, Mr. Sands.

- These are dangerous men,
Detective. Please be careful.

Gentlemen, welcome.

(soft tense music)

(glass shattering)
- Ah...

- I just got that hat.
Custom.

It's ruined.

- I'll sponge it off, sir.
It'll be good as new.

- You know, spilling that
wine was a good thing.

- What? What did you say?

- That wine was
a German Riesling.

You wouldn't have liked it.

You look like strong Barolo men.

- Strong Barolo men, huh?

You're right.
- Hm.

- I take a hearty red
over a white any day.

I like this guy.
- Ah!

- It's got to be connected.

It's no coincidence
that the money that Ellis Boone

left in his tent
is the exact same amount

that was stolen from
the Stampede office.

- Well, now we know
where he got the money.

But why would Mr. Boone
steal that money

and then leave it in his tent?

- Change of heart?

- Where are you off to?

- I'm going to have a word
with the young lady

who lost her key.

(indistinct chatter)

(horse neighing)

So, Miss Croft,

were you the only one
who had a key to the lockbox?

- Not the only one.
Mr. Weadick had one, too.

- Ah, I see.

- I noticed my key was missing
from my pocket earlier.

I looked everywhere.

- And you never found it?

- No.

And when I went back
to the office tent,

the box was empty
and the money was gone.

- $150?

- Yes. I feel just
terrible about it.

- Did you see anyone suspicious
hanging around the office?

- No.

- Who else knew you had a key?

- Nobody, sir.

- Not even Ellis Boone?

- I've never spoken
to that man in my life.

- This place isn't half bad.

I could get used to coming here.

- I told Mr. Sands
we would be, often.

- How much longer is this going
to go on? My hands are shaking.

- Patience, Serge.

- Any trouble with that
Mr. Grews?

- None at all. He soon fell
in line once he heard my offer.

- Thought you were just
telling him to close for good.

- I gave him a choice:
leave or keep selling meat

and get his shop torched
to the ground.

(chuckling)

Hey, waiter.
- Mm-hmm?

- Before it gets cold.
- Uh-huh.

- Waiter. More wine.

- Uh-huh. Right.

Uh! Ah. Ha, ha, ha.

- What-what are you doing, man?
Step back!

- What is that?
- Hm?

- Under your waistcoat?
It's hard, like metal.

(Watts): Uh...

- He wears a medical device.

He needs it to breathe, um,

but he's very proud and doesn't
like to talk about it.

(exhaling sharply)

(tense music)

- We've got the butchers
on the east side of town

all shaking in their boots.

Now we start on the west side.

- And I can help you with that.

Our two shops
will run this town,

as long as we have
each other's backs.

- Well, I think
that should do it.

Gentlemen, I am not a waiter.

- No kidding.
- I'm a police detective

and you men are under arrest.
Constables!

- I've recorded
everything you've said.

(grunting)
Arrest these two

and bring them
to the station house.

Mm.
(spits)

This Barolo's corked.

If poor palates were a crime,

I'd charge you both
with that, too.

(horses neighing)

- Why would anyone
wanna burn this tent down?

- To end the event
before it begins?

- This Stampede is supposed
to be the greatest

outdoor show
this country's ever seen!

- Perhaps there are some folks
who don't share that feeling.

Uh, Mr. Weadick.

(ominous music)

- Kerosene and a lighter?

- Evidence that this fire
was definitely arson.

- Hell of a thing.

Sorry your Stampede's
catching such trouble, Guy.

- Thanks, Tom.
- I spoke with the people

at the Indian Village.

Nobody saw anyone
around this tent yesterday.

- I was actually coming to speak
to you next, Mr. Wilde.

- Me? A-About the fire?

I don't know anything about it.

- Either of you men
recognize this lighter?

- No, sir.

- Mr. Wilde, I was told that
you were rather upset yesterday

when the Stampede decided
to go ahead in spite

of your brother's death.

- Well, I was angry at everyone
at the bar yesterday

for being in such high spirits.

I mean, they didn't say one word
about my brother.

I thought cowboys
would mourn one of their own.

- So you tried
to destroy my rodeo?!

- He wouldn't do
anything like that.

- Are you vouching for him
a second time,

Mr. Three Persons?

- No, as a matter of fact,
I'm not.

- Look, I was a hothead
yesterday,

but I went straight
from the bar to my bed.

'Kay, the fella in the next tent
can swear to it.

(intriguing music)

- Oh! How are the pancakes?

- Very good! Must be my tenth.

I think it's the buffalo milk.

- Did you manage to talk
to the young Mr. Wilde?

- Yes. He has an alibi
for the time of the crime.

And he didn't recognize this.

I found it at the burnt-out
tent next to a can of fuel.

- I've seen this lighter before.
Yesterday at the bar.

(Murdoch): Who did it belong to?

(Brackenreid): That businessman,
Mr. Tripp.

He told me how much he hated
the whole idea of the Stampede.

- God, no!

- How good with a rifle
do you think he is?

- There's one way to find out.

- Ah, Miss Oakley?

Yeah, I got a message
that you'd like to see me.

- I've heard all about you,
Mr. Tripp.

- Oh, have you?
I-I don't know you at all.

- You never heard
of Annie Oakley?

I'm the best shot in the west.
Heck, the east,

south, north, too.

- Ah, well,
how wonderful for you.

- Hm. I hear you don't like
the Stampede much

and I was thinking that maybe

it's because
you don't know about it.

If you did, you'd love it.

- The city of Calgary
doesn't need to look backwards,

Miss Oakley. Okay, we need
innovation and forward thinking.

- You ever shot a rifle?

- I beg your pardon?
- Like this.

(rifle clicks)

(gunshot)

(cheering, applause)

- That's impressive. For a lady.

- I ain't no lady.
You wanna try?

- Ah, no.
(chuckling)

- It's okay. There's no shame
if you can't.

- Why, I... You surely aren't
trying to best me.

I mean, I have fired
a rifle or two in my time.

- Hm. Can't wait to see it.

- All right.
(chuckles)

(tense music)

(gunshot)

(chuckles)

Well, I'll-I'll just
give it another try.

(rifle clicks)

(gunshot)

(indistinct murmuring)

This weapon's not properly
sighted. It's...

- Here. Allow me.

(gunshot)

(cheering, applause)

I don't think it's a problem
with the weapon, sir.

Looks like you're not much
of a shot, Mr. Tripp.

- But you are an arsonist,
nonetheless.

- Uh, what do you mean?

- I found this,
along with some accelerant

at the scene of the fire.
Look familiar?

- Well, somebody must have
stolen that from me.

Uh, I mean, there is nothing
but thieves and scoundrels

in this place.
- Mr. Tripp,

you're under arrest
on suspicion of arson.

Take him away, Murdoch.

- Come with me.

- He could have been pretending
to be a bad shot.

- Doesn't mean he's not
a firebug, though.

- Hm. Try your luck?

- Oh! Why not?
(chuckling)

Toss it, me ol' mucker!

(gunshot)

(laughing)

(cheering, applause)

Luck has nothing to do
with it, Miss Oakley.

Oh! Thank you.

Ah! Mr. Tripp here
has had plenty of time

to stew in the holding tent.

- I demand to be released.

- Mr. Tripp, you've been charged
with arson.

You'll be sent to
the Calgary central jail.

- What is your problem
with this Stampede?

Seems to me that it would put
this city on the map.

Surely that's gotta be
good for business?

- I-It's the wrong kind of
business!

We are in the twentieth century.

It is time to leave
the past behind.

- I've heard that you put
an offer in on this land.

- I did! I was going to turn it
into an exhibition grounds

for modern technological
inventions,

not a circus for cowboys.

- I believe the city
didn't like your idea.

- Ah, yeah.
They fell for Mr. Weadick.

He conned them into letting him
hold this Stampede.

It's a disgrace.

- So you decided to burn
the whole bloody thing down.

(scoffs)
- Drunkenly and foolishly,

I-I lit a fire.
(chuckling)

I apologize.
I will happily pay the damages.

- Are you sure lighting
a fire is all you did?

- What are you talking about?

- I believe a cowboy's
been drugged.

And another man
was shot and killed.

- That had nothing
to do with me.

Although, it's no big surprise.

- Care to expand on that?

- That's what happens when
you get these types together.

Troublemakers, the lot of 'em.

I heard some things when
I was in that holding tent.

- What did you hear?

- One of them must've done
something illegal.

I don't know what he did,
but he paid a pickup man $150

to keep quiet about it.

- Who was it?
- I don't know his name.

All those cowboys,
they all look the same to me.

(chuckling)

- We'll check the list of men
who were in holding last night.

- Ah, as I proved helpful
to you men,

ah, will you, will you
let me out of here?

(both): No.

- Take him back.

(indistinct chatter)

(horses neighing)

(indistinct)

- Ah.

- Hello, men. See a horse
outside named Cyclone?

- Mm.
- Say she's a real outlaw.

But I think we're going to get
along just fine.

- Mm. Good.

Uh, we're still searching
for whoever

drugged Big Roy Wilde's canteen

in order to win
the bronco-riding competition.

- And you came to find me?

- Well, no. I...
I've come to test your canteen.

- Nothing but water in there.
As far as I know.

- Can't hurt.

(intriguing music)

- Whatever opioid substance
was put

in Big Roy Wilde's canteen
is also present in yours.

Have you drank any of this?

- Did you see anyone hanging
around your saddlebags?

- No, I didn't.

- Look at that.

- What am I looking at, sir?

- That's Lucinda Croft.
She's the one

who lost the key
to Mr. Weadick's lockbox.

- Containing the $150.

- Well, they seem friendly.

- And he was one of the men who
was in the lockup last night.

- Miss Croft. A word.

- What can I do for you?

- We'd like to ask you some more
questions about the theft.

- I told you everything I know.

- Pardon me, fellas.
I gotta practise.

- Just a minute, Mr. Heedly.

You were in the lockup
last night, weren't you?

- Had one too many.
I didn't know that was a crime.

- I don't think that's
the only crime you've committed,

is it, Mr. Heedly?

- The hell you talking about?

- How did Miss Croft's
stolen $150

end up in the possession
of Ellis Boone?

- You took it to give to him
as payment, didn't ya?

But he saw you drug Big Roy
and threatened to turn you in.

- Riley, you said that
that money was for us,

so that we could
run away together.

- Quiet, Lucinda.
- You killed Big Roy.

And you tried to get rid
of me, too.

Couldn't win fair and square,
Heedly?

- You can all go to the devil.

- Oh!
- No! Wait!

Mr. Heedly!
- Gimme that horse!

- Hold it right there!

You there!
Toronto Constabulary.

I need to use this horse.

(dramatic music)

(horse neighing)

Hya. Hya. Git.

- Careful, that's a wild one!

He's got some skill
for a city boy.

- That's William Murdoch.

(neighing)

- Whoa!

- Hya! Hya! Ha, ha, ha! Come on.

Hya! Come on!

- Hya!
- Hya!

- Hya!

(gunshot)

(gunshot)

(horse neighing)

- Oof!

- Thank you for your assistance,
Miss Oakley.

- Surely, Detective.

- Ellis Boone saw me dose
Roy's canteen.

And I gave him that money
to keep quiet about it

and let Roy fall in the ring.

- Why did you then kill him?

- He wasn't going to stay
quiet about it.

He told me he had
a change of heart.

He was going to tell you
what I'd done.

- You're now under arrest
for two murders.

- Looks to me like this
is your last rodeo, "pardner."

- I've cooked you my specialty.

Oh!

Ah, well, the only thing
that I know how to make,

lamb chops
from Mr. Grews's shop.

- They look perfect.

- Mr. Sands is happy he can
go back to his regular butcher.

- I'm just glad he won't be
threatened any more

by those criminals.

- You're a good man, Serge.

- Not really.

I should have called you
after we first had dinner.

- Oh, I understand.

- No, I don't think that you do.

I didn't call you
because I really like you.

- Oh.

- I've had my heart
broken before,

and I don't want that
to happen again.

- Well...
(clears throat)

Nothing is promised us, but...

I think we could
make each other happy.

(Watts chuckles)

(soft music)

So can this be considered
our second date?

- Yes.

- Well, in that case,

maybe it wouldn't be
too forward to do this.

(announcer): He's looking
pretty good!

That horse is starting
to buck something fierce,

but he's hanging on.
Come on, son!

And he's off!
(applause)

That was a good ride!

Come on, folks, give him a hand.
It was an excellent ride.

- Your instincts about
your brother were right.

He didn't simply
fall off of his horse.

- Thank you for finding out
who killed him.

That's some comfort.

I just wish Roy was here
to watch me compete,

even if I do lose.

- Seems like he was
a good brother to you,

and I'm sure he'd be very proud.

- Well, there's another rodeo
next month in Medicine Hat.

I'm aiming to win it.

- Oh!
- For Roy.

- This is going to be
one hell of show, Mr. Weadick.

- Wouldn't have come off
without you two.

You saved the Stampede.

(clearing throat)
- With a little help.

- Thank you, ma'am.

(grunting)

- Sir, are you injured?
- Blame Miss Oakley.

- Blame? I bought you a present.
Show them off, Tom.

(Weadick whistling)

A man who shoots as good as you

deserves a proper pair of boots.

- Those are going to be perfect

for marching
in the parade tomorrow.

- Marching? Bloody hell.

(announcer): Our next cowboy's
ready to ride!

- Oh, Tom's set to ride.

(men cheering)

(tense music)

- Riley Bo should've known
that Tom was going to win

the damn thing, anyway.

Cyclone is our toughest bronc
and my money's still on him.

(inspiring music)

(theme music)

Subtitling: difuze