All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S06E07 - The Ghost of Queens Park (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

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[ Door closes ]

WOMAN:
[ Whispering ] Reginald.

Reginald.

[ Indistinct whispering ]

MAN:
Anybody there?!

Anybody there?

[ Laughs ]

[ Gasps ]

Oh.
It's just you, Briggs.

Mr. Chilton?

Mr. Chilton!

No. No, please. Don't.

- No-o-o-o!
- [ Thud ]

This is Reginald Chilton.

He was the MPP
for Toronto East.

Thank you, Lieutenant Governor.

Poor man.
This is a terrible business.

Indeed, Your Honor.

Dr. Grace.

He has a fractured skull

and a crushed
cervical vertebra.

Either would have been
sufficient to kill him.

Injuries consistent
with a fall.

Oh, my God.
Reginald.

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

You are?

Thaddeus Walsh,
provincial secretary.

I came as soon as I was called.

Reginald was my oldest friend.

Do you know if Mr. Chilton had
any reason to take his life?

Absolutely not.

By every measure,
he was a man of success.

Did he have any enemies?

Name me one politician
worth his salt who doesn't.

Would you care to elaborate?

Mr. Chilton was a man
who got his way.

I admired him for that.
Others did not.

I see.
Thank you, sir.

CRABTREE: Detective.

This is Mr. Briggs,
the night watchman.

He called the police.

That wasn't all.
I seen what done it.

Foul play's at work here.

And not by the likes
of you or me.

What do you mean?

It was the work of a ghost.

The ghost of Queen's Park.

There's a ghost?

And not just one.
Several.

Apparitions have been sighted
through the halls.

Lady ghosts, one and all.

But this one... This one was
different from the others.

How so?

This one was glowing.

It was glowing?

Sir, what time
did you see the ghost?

10:00 p.m.

A dead politician?

Well, that'll ruffle
a few feathers.

Do you have any leads?

Yes, sir.
An eyewitness.

Mr. Briggs, the night watchman.

Well, it'll be
a short investigation, then.

Not exactly, sir.

Mr. Briggs claims
the murderer was a ghost.

A ghost?

Doing in a politician?

I always thought Queen's Park
was full of happy dafties,

but this takes the cake.

Happy dafties?

Crackpots.

MAN:
Good day, gentlemen.

I've heard about Chilton.

I thought I owed it
to your investigation

to tell you what I know.

- And you are?
- Samuel Jenkins.

Toronto Gazette.

Press.

I was conducting
an investigation

into Chilton's dealings.

Have a seat.

You've written about Chilton in
the past, if I'm not mistaken.

Yeah. Shame to lose
such a rich vein of material.

You know the slaughterhouses
off Eastern Avenue,

the ones
that dumped their effluent

directly into Ashbridge's Bay?

Yes. They nearly caused
an outbreak of cholera.

He owned those.

After I exposed them,

he supposedly sold the property
and went into politics.

Supposedly?

In his position as the
province's lands commissioner,

Chilton was pushing
the government

to purchase
that exact piece of property...

For an inflated price.

For the new
sewage treatment plant.

Did he still have an interest?

The land is owned
by a numbered company.

The address is a post box.

The board of directors
is comprised

of two Chilton cronies.

- What do you think?
- Hmm.

Did Chilton know you were
investigating his affairs?

Oh, yes.

In fact, he was suing me

to discourage further scrutiny
of his dealings.

I see.

Well, with Chilton's death,

you would no longer have to
worry about the libel suit.

It was a paper tiger.
He would never have proceeded.

A court case would have
allowed me to subpoena documents

to prove that he still held
a controlling interest.

Of course, now that he's died
under mysterious circumstances,

that might be something
you want to look into.

BRIGGS:
I've seen them all.

Oh!
Mr. Briggs!

There's a tall, thin one
with streaming hair

and a long flowing robe

who wanders
the third-floor hallways.

And a maiden
in a checkered dress

who pulls it up over
her head to conceal her face.

But most awful of all is the
hanging woman in the basement.

She dangles from a hook,

oozing gloom and sorrow.

M-Mr. Briggs,
the one you saw last night?

Oh, I saw her
only in the distance,

glowing with a terrible
bluish-green light.

Mr. Briggs, who else
was working here last night?

Sometimes the typists in the
east-wing basement work late

when the House is in session.

[ Clears throat ]

Yes, we were working late

to finish some reports
for Mr. Chilton.

And did either of you
notice anything unusual?

Unusual in what way?

Well, Mr. Briggs says
that Queen's Park is haunted.

MARGE: It is.

Hogwash, Marge.
You've never seen any ghosts.

Yes, I have.

Well, I haven't
actually seen them,

but I felt the presence
of a vengeful spirit

on the fourth floor.

That was most likely
his right honorable's secretary.

Very funny.

I wouldn't put much truck

into what that Mr. Briggs
told you.

He isn't quite
the full tin of biscuits.

I've seen one.

Last night,
just as we were leaving,

I saw the ghost of a woman
at the end of the hallway.

Was she hanging from a hook?

No, she was glowing.

Sir, I think
we may be premature

in eliminating the supernatural
element from this investigation.

At least two people have said

they've seen a glowing ghost
in recent days.

George, there is absolutely
no scientific basis

for the existence of ghosts.

Yes, sir,
but you yourself have said

the absence of evidence

is not necessarily
the evidence of absence.

You yourself believe
in God and heaven, for instance.

Neither of which I'm bringing
into this investigation.

Yes, sir,
but you believe they exist,

along with an everlasting soul.

Yes, George.

So, sir, it is my theory
that ghosts are souls

that are stranded here because
they have unfinished business.

- Unfinished business?
- Yes, sir.

They're not able to pass on

because they have
a loved one in trouble,

or they themselves have been
wronged terribly, even murdered.

And the sheer injustice of it

makes it impossible
for them to rest in peace.

So it's your belief, George,

that Mr. Chilton was killed
by the ghost of someone

he himself murdered?

- Or wronged in some way.
- Oh.

That's a very
interesting theory.

Thank you, sir.

And given unlimited resources,

I would happily permit you
to follow this line of inquiry.

But as it is,
I need you to find out

what Dr. Grace has for us.

Thank you.

His occipital bone was crushed,

and his neck was broken
at the first vertebra.

So it was the fall
that killed him.

Oh, yes.

What's interesting is,
given the position of his body,

it seems he went backwards
over the balcony.

As if someone,
or some thing, forced him back.

Some thing?

It's my theory that a vengeful
spirit might be responsible.

A ghost?

Now, I know
what you're thinking,

but it's practically
common knowledge

that Queen's Park is haunted.

- I've heard this.
- Yes.

And we have a witness
that claims

to have seen a ghost last night
when Mr. Chilton fell.

Is Detective Murdoch
entertaining this possibility?

He can be a tad close-minded
about such things.

Still, you shouldn't abandon
this avenue of investigation.

You don't think so?

I've been involved in
some scientific experiments

entailing metaphysical
excursions to the other side.

- Metaphysical excursions?
- Yes.

And we've proven
that it's possible

to enter the portals
of the afterlife

without going all the way over.

Emily, this fits
my theory exactly...

That ghosts are simply spirits

that are not yet ready
to pass through those portals.

Then you should pursue
this line of inquiry.

I don't know
if Detective Murdoch

will grant me permission.

Then it may be best
to seek forgiveness later

than ask permission now.

That journalist, Jenkins,
was onto something.

The company holding
the Ashbridge's Bay property

is in turn held
by another numbered company.

One shell inside another.

Mm.

Chilton was both
a businessman and a lawyer

before going into politics.

So he would have known
how to set it up.

This could underlie everything,
Murdoch.

But if Chilton submerged his
name to cover up his activities,

that would explain why
he might want to kill someone.

But it doesn't give us a reason

why someone
would want to kill Chilton.

What about the journalist?

He claims he was working
to deadline

at the time of the murder.

CRABTREE:
[ Clears throat ] Sirs.

I have found some information
I believe is very important.

What have you, George?

It pertains to the theory
I expressed to you earlier, sir.

What theory?

Constable Crabtree believes
Mr. Briggs is correct

in thinking our culprit
is a spirit

inhabiting Queen's Park.

- Spirits!
- Hear me out, sirs.

I paid a visit to city records
to look into the history

of the legislative buildings,
my thinking being that,

if it had been built
atop a cemetery,

that would explain
souls of the dead

rising up in anger
about being disturbed.

Oh, George...

But, sir, what I discovered
is far more interesting.

All right. I'll nibble.
Go on.

30 years ago on the very land

on which the legislative
buildings now sit was

the University Lunatic Asylum
for insane women.

So?

So?! That explains
why Queen's Park is haunted.

What soul is more likely to
languish in restless disquiet

than that of a deranged woman?!

George, I thought
I expressly told you

to restrict your investigation.

I had some free time, sir.

Not anymore you don't.

I want you
to go down to city records

and look into
the ownership history

of this
Ashbridge's Bay property...

And only this.

Sir, if I could just find
the identity

of the inmate responsible...

Now, Crabtree!

Yes, sir.

You encourage him.

- [ Knock on door ]
- George.

What a pleasant surprise.
What brings you here?

Actually, Doctor, I'm hoping
that you can help me

with a murder case
we're working on.

Of course.
What do you need?

I'm looking
for some information

about the
University Lunatic Asylum.

Is there some connection between
the old asylum and a case?

Possibly.

Between you and I, Doctor,

there is some evidence
to suggest

that a ghost is involved.

A ghost?

Now, Detective Murdoch
has yet to sanction

such a line of inquiry.

I see.
Well, how can I help you?

I'm hoping to have a look
at the files

pertaining to the women
who were once inmates there.

Well, when those women
were transferred here,

their files may have come over
with them.

Take this note to Clifford
in records,

and he will help you.

That's brilliant.
Thank you, Doctor.

Dr. Garland.

- Constable Crabtree.
- Sir.

Hello, Julia.

Well, Darcy.

It seems to be
a day for unexpected visitors.

I have a favor to ask.

A favor?

The charity ball tomorrow.

We're expected
to bring our wives.

I'm hoping you'll still
be able to accompany me.

I see.

I am aware of the awkwardness
of the situation,

but we agreed
that the hospital board

wouldn't know of the change
in our circumstances.

It would be a great favor,
Julia.

Yes.

Yes, of course
I'll come with you, Darcy.

We can be done
with the pretense soon enough.

Next week I mark one year
as chief administrator.

In that position,
I'll be a lot more secure...

Not as easy to dismiss me.

They're not going to fire you.

Dr. Lamott thinks
you're marvelous.

And I will take the brunt
of the scandal of divorce,

as it should be.

What time do you need me?

Pick you up at 7:00?

Fine.

And Darcy...

Rest assured
I will be my most gracious self.

- What have you, George?
- Ah, sir!

I looked into the history
of the Ashbridge's Bay company.

Until 1787 that property

was part of
the Toronto Carrying Purchase

from the Mississauga Indians.

It was subsequently allocated

to the
United Empire Loyalists...

Bloody hell, Crabtree.

We don't need to go back
to the age of the dinosaurs.

Let's see...
In 1860 the land was owned

by one Herbert G. Marshall.

His family had farmed it
for generations.

He wanted to turn it into
a bird sanctuary before he died.

Bird sanctuary?

This Marshall would turn in his
grave if he could see it now.

How did the property come to
be used for slaughterhouses?

When Herbert Marshall died,

it went to his daughter,
Abigail.

When she passed, it went
to her husband, Thaddeus Walsh.

The provincial secretary?

[ Chuckles ]

Who'd have guessed it?

Another politician
up to his neck in it.

Walsh built the slaughterhouses.

He eventually sold them
to Mr. Chilton.

Chilton eventually sold them to
the company that owns them now.

I think we should have
another chat with Mr. Walsh.

WALSH: Yes, I built
the slaughterhouses.

It was the best use
of the land at the time.

BRACKENREID:
Not a bird sanctuary, then?

WALSH: A bird sanctuary
within city limits...

It's absurd.

Cities are for people,
not birds.

At any rate,

I sold the operation to Reginald
when I ran for office.

And you have no further
interest in the property?

None.

And yet you helped Mr. Chilton

push through a proposal
that would have the government

purchase the
Ashbridge's property

at an inflated price.

Thick as thieves, you lot.

If we dig into
those numbered companies,

what are the chances
that both your names turn up?

You intend
to drag my name through the dirt

in an election year?

You're worried about reelection?

If I were you,
I'd be more concerned

about my neck in the noose.

The noose?

MURDOCH: Mr. Chilton
was being investigated

by a newspaper reporter.

That investigation
could have led to you.

You're suggesting
I killed my friend.

You couldn't kill Jenkins
without drawing suspicion.

But who'd finger you
for your pal Chilton's murder?

Your accusations...

Do you know who I am?

I'll have your badges!

Mr. Secretary, not even
the queen gets away with murder.

MURDOCH: Good day.

Crabtree.

Go to
the business registry office

and see what you can find out
about these numbered companies.

Bring the files back with you,
and pay very careful attention.

You'll be looking for any traces
of Chilton's or Walsh's names

hidden in the fine print.

Yes, sir.

George.

Have you made any inroads
with the inmate files?

I'm afraid I've been waylaid
in my efforts.

- Julia.
- William.

Are you busy?

An evening
with the hospital board

is a chore
at the best of times.

But I must live up
to my arrangement with Darcy.

It is only one evening, Julia.

I can't let him
lose his position.

I intend to do everything
I can to protect his reputation.

That's only fair.

This circumstance
is hardly his fault.

I wish we lived
in a different time,

when we could be together
and the world wouldn't care.

Is Detective Murdoch in?

No, he's gone off
with Dr. Ogden

and left me here
on a wild goose chase.

Well, I've made
an exciting discovery

that just might
lift your spirits

and perhaps pull
Detective Murdoch

around to your way of thinking.

Ah, no.

A-A team of workhorses
could not accomplish that.

I've detected high levels
of adrenaline

in the victim's bloodstream.

It's not unusual
to find elevated levels

in murder victims, of course,
but these were especially high.

What does it mean?

Adrenaline is secreted

when the victim experiences
acute psychological shock.

As if he'd seen a ghost.

George, I think there's more
to your theory

than Detective Murdoch
gives credit to.

Emily, look at this.

Each one of these asylum files
has a complete patient history.

Now, it's my belief that
by going through these files

I may be able to identify

some of the ghosts
that have been seen.

We should
see the ghosts ourselves.

What, spend the night
in Queen's Park?

You're finished
your shift soon.

How do we know
the ghost will show up?

- They're notoriously shy.
- Perhaps we'll be lucky.

I have a better idea.

We'll capture one.

We call it the scrutiny camera.

I'll set it to take a picture
every 10 seconds.

Is it actually possible to take
a picture in so dark a place?

If we set the shutter
to stay open for a full second.

George...

We never did talk
of what happened

the day of the evacuation.

[ Sighs ]

Emily, I apologize
for overstepping.

-It's just that I thought...
-George, you didn't overstep.

I thought we were
about to die, and...

Kissing you like that was
highly presumptuous, I know.

I was very glad you did.

- You were?
- I was.

- [ Footsteps ]
- I hear footsteps.

It's probably
just the night watchman.

No.
He just went that way.

What?

[ Sighs ]

Who are you?

I'm sorry.

I'm a little lost.
I was summoned to see Mr. Walsh.

At this time of night?

Do you know
where his office is?

I believe
it's the next floor up.

Ah.

Thank you.

Well, we should go,
I suppose.

I'll check the camera
in the morning.

[ Whispering spookily ]
Dr. Grace!

[ Normal voice ] Are you scared?

No, not at all.

If ghosts
are just unmoored souls,

they're to be pitied,
not feared.

[ Gasps ] George!

Oh! You again?

Any sign of the ghost?

I felt a chill near the suite
of the lieutenant governor,

but no sightings.

[ Man screams ]

BRIGGS:
I'll get the lights!

CRABTREE:
Oh, my goodness.

- Is he dead?
- Uh-huh.

You got here quickly, Doctor.

Who discovered the body?

I did, sir.

You did, George?

What were you doing here?

I was setting up
the scrutiny camera, sir.

Why?

I was trying to capture proof
of the spirit activity, sir.

George, I thought I told you
to leave all of that behind.

It was at my suggestion,
Detective.

Dr. Grace...

I believed
Constable Crabtree's theory

worthy of consideration.

I was surprised to hear
that you did not,

given your own experience.

Right.
What have you found?

Head trauma may be
the cause of death,

but I will not know for sure

till I thoroughly examine
the body.

Have we identified him?

Not yet.

He actually approached us
shortly before he fell.

He was asking directions
for Thaddeus Walsh's office.

I found this on his person.

"We need to talk. Come to
my Queen's Park office tonight.

Tell no one.
T. Walsh."

I don't know him.

You don't seem too sure
about that.

Did you summon him?

No.

That's not my signature.
You can check it if you like.

Someone clearly
stole my letterhead.

Then where were you
at the time of the incident?

I was on my way home.

Can anyone confirm that?

You can't seriously think that
I had something to do with this.

He's connected to both deaths
in different ways.

Oh, he's mixed up in this,
Murdoch.

And I'll wager if we follow
the money trail, we'll find out.

Crabtree, keep digging
into those files.

There's got to be
something in there

that clearly links
to Chilton and Walsh.

Yes, sir.

Sir, I know
you don't want to hear

any more about the ghost,

but there's something
you have to see.

What is it?

Sir, it's a single frame
from the scrutiny-camera film

we took at Queen's Park.

Sir, I think
that's the glowing ghost.

It isn't a ghost, George.

Then what is it?

WOMAN: Excuse me, Constable.
My husband's gone missing.

Oh, my God.
Ansel.

MURDOCH: Could you please state
your husband's full name?

Dr. Ansel Fraser.

When did you last see
your husband, Mrs. Fraser?

Uh...

Yesterday evening.

Do you know what
he was doing at Queen's Park?

I have no idea.
He...

He wanted to go for a walk.

He often did that
in the evening.

Did he happen
to mention a Thaddeus Walsh?

Oh, God.

- Mrs. Fraser.
- I'm sorry.

It's quite all right,
Mrs. Fraser.

The constable
will see you home.

This way.

- Sir...
- Not now, George.

Dr. Grace, have you been able
to establish a cause of death?

It wasn't the head trauma from
the fall that killed Dr. Fraser.

He was likely dead upon impact,

having suffered
a myocardial infarction.

A heart attack.

Sir, he died of fright,
as if he'd seen...

He'd seen a ghost.

Yes, I know where
you're going with this, George.

Dr. Grace, I'd like to see
a full report.

And both of you,
not another word about ghosts.

Sir, there's something
you should know.

- Is it about a ghost?
- No... Possibly.

Sir, Dr. Ansel Fraser
used to work

for the University
Lunatic Asylum.

It's part of
an independent investigation

I've been conducting.

I know what
you're going to say, sir,

but I'm sure these deaths

have something to do
with the old asylum.

See if you can find any link
to Mr. Chilton in those files.

Yes, sir.

[ Exhales slowly ]

Sir!

Sir, look at this!
Asylum committal papers.

Here is the signature
of Dr. Fraser.

Have a look at the name
underneath it.

MURDOCH:
Reginald Chilton.

He was the committing lawyer.

Sir, both victims
are connected to this file.

The inmate
was Abigail Marshall.

She's the daughter of the chap

who planned to build
the bird sanctuary.

Indeed.

That would make her
the late wife of Thaddeus Walsh.

Sir, I believe we've identified
the Queen's Park ghost.

It's the insane deceased wife
of Provincial Secretary Walsh.

We need to have a chat
with Mr. Walsh.

About my theory.

No, George.

[ Gunshot ]

[ Gunshot ]

No!
It can't be!

You're dead!
You're dead!

Who?

Abigail, my wife.

Where did she go?

There!

Stop! Police!

CRABTREE: [ Sighs ]

Do you believe me now, sir?

That wasn't a ghost, George.

Sir, we both just saw it
with our own eyes.

It was clearly an apparition
from the afterlife.

It wasn't a ghost,
and I intend to prove it.

BRACKENREID:
What's all this, then?

It's a mixture of zinc sulfide
and facial cream.

It functions as a phosphor.

Phosphorous.
Ah, yes.

Uh, no, sir.
Not phosphorous.

- Phosphor.
- What's the difference?

Phosphorous is an element
that glows

when exposed to oxygen.

Phosphor is any compound

that absorbs and then reemits
light in the visible range.

Right.
That should do it.

George, you'll need to
hold your face up to the sun.

For how long, sir?

Um... two hours should do it.

Two?!

Enjoy, Crabbers.

Murdoch, I give you
our test subject.

Very good.
George, have a seat.

Good God.

Here you are, George.
There's your ghost.

Oh, my.

Still, sir, how did
Walsh identify the ghost

as that of his dead wife?

Good question.
How, Murdoch?

I don't know.

But at least now we know
how the ghost achieved

its ethereal effect.

Sir, may I wash this off now?

Not yet, George.

I want to see how long
the luminescence lasts.

So, what's going on?

Crabtree was right.

Whether there's a ghost or not,

someone's going to a lot of
effort to haunt Thaddeus Walsh.

Mm.

It was the ghost
of my dead wife.

Are you quite sure?

Why would your dead wife
choose to haunt you?

I don't know.

Did you collude
with your friend Mr. Chilton

to have your wife committed

and have Dr. Fraser
approve the committal?

My wife
was a deeply troubled woman.

Who was about to turn a very
valuable piece of property

into a bird sanctuary.

It had nothing to do with that.

She was depressed.
Hysterically so.

I didn't know what else to do.

It was for her own good.

BRACKENREID:
She must have felt differently.

The two victims
were the men

who were responsible for
committing her to the asylum.

MURDOCH: Do you know
what I think, Mr. Walsh?

I think this is all a lie.

I think you concocted
this "ghost"

to murder
your former colleagues

and to deflect suspicion
from yourself.

You're wrong.

I'm being haunted
by my former wife.

I don't know why.

But I want the police
to stop persecuting me

and start protecting me.

Protect you from a ghost?

How do you propose
we do that, then?

If there
are no further questions.

Sirs, I wouldn't be so quick
to conclude

the glowing woman
is not a ghost.

See?
The cream doesn't glow anymore.

He's right.

You brought me inside
at 11:00.

It's now just past 1:00.

So, what's your point?

My point is, the cream lasts
for less than two hours.

In each case
the ghost was seen

three to five hours
after sunset.

Well, Murdoch,

is there any other concoction
you can think of

that would hold a glow
for five hours?

Not offhand, no.

Sir, could she have charged
herself up under a light bulb?

No, the intensity of a light
bulb would be insufficient.

Well, then, it must be a ghost.

I hate to say it, Murdoch.

Sir,
you can't possibly think...

It glows, it looks like
Abigail Marshall,

and I don't think this is
all the brainchild

of Thaddeus Walsh.

Run with it, Crabtree.

Find out what you can
about Abigail Marshall

and this ghost business.

Yes, sir.

You're just encouraging him.

CRABTREE: Emily!

They've finally come around

to supporting
my ghost investigation.

At least
Inspector Brackenreid has.

That's excellent news, George.

My plan is to return
to Queen's Park

with the scrutiny camera,
if you'd care to assist me.

Of course.

I can finish this work later.

So how do you propose we get
a sharper picture this time?

I'm going to widen the aperture
and shorten the exposure.

Huh.

- Emily, what's that?
- What?

Something's glowing over there.

Indeed it is.

It's coming from Dr. Fraser.

There was something
in the creases of his palm

during my postmortem.

I thought it was dirt,
but it's something else.

What?

Something that glows.

Do you think
it's from the ghost?

Ghosts don't manifest
physical matter.

Yes, right.
No, I know.

I suppose we should inform
Detective Murdoch.

[ Laughs ]

For all his finesse
as a surgeon,

Dr. McKenzie doesn't cut much
of a figure on the dance floor.

He ruined the shoe
on my left foot.

I think you've finally made
an impression with Dr. Lamott.

He was hanging
on your every word.

Really?

Perhaps I should
have brought up the benefits

of a contraception clinic
while I had him in my thrall.

It was a wonderful evening,
Julia.

Thank you for coming.

You're welcome, Darcy.
I'm glad you asked.

I'd forgotten how much
I enjoy your company.

Aaaaaah!

DR. OGDEN: William.

Julia!

My goodness,
you look beautiful.

Well, thank you, Detective.

I just came by
to say good night.

How was the ball?
Not too tedious, I hope.

I survived.

William, what is causing
that luminescence?

Oh, it's something
I've never seen before.

It was found on the hands
of our latest victim.

What I suspect...

It's impossible.

Have a look.

I suspect it's a compound
of some sort,

and one of the ingredients
is radium dust.

That's remarkable.

But who here in Toronto

would have access
to such a rare element?

Actually, I have read about
a scientist who went to Paris

to consult with Madame Curie
on her work with radium.

Someone in Toronto now?

Do you recall the name?

I do.
It's Professor Paul Monteith.

Incredible as it seems,

this appears to contain
the very same substance

as I've been working with.

Radium.

Yes. I've been developing
a radium paint compound.

To what purpose?

A company in the United States

hopes one day to create pocket
watches with glowing dials.

Mm.

Professor Monteith,

does anyone else have
access to your materials?

No.
I work entirely alone.

It's a very painstaking
and meticulous process,

as you might imagine.

- I knew it wasn't a ghost.
- MURDOCH: No.

The substance
that our so-called ghost used

was a compound of Jonteel
beauty cream, water, and radium.

And what is this radium?

It's a newly
discovered element.

It produces
a persistent luminescent glow.

Our ghost must have applied
the beauty cream to her face,

then found a way to imbue
her clothing in radium.

How did she get a hold of it?

I have no idea.

It's very rare,
difficult to produce.

As a matter of fact,
we only know of one scientist

who's been working with it.

Sirs, I've discovered something
I believe is of significance.

What is it?

When Abigail Marshall was
committed to the lunatic asylum,

she was pregnant.

Oh?
And she had the child?

Asylum records state only
that she went into labor.

The next entry lists
that she died two days later.

She died in childbirth.

Along with the baby?

Well, the thing is,
I then went to city records,

and they do have a record
of the birth...

A girl, Lorraine.

The interesting thing is,

the signature
on that birth certificate

is that of Imogene Fraser.

- The wife of our second victim.
- Yes, sir.

When Dr. Fraser was the head
of the lunatic asylum,

his wife, Mrs. Fraser,
was the matron.

[ Sniffles ]
This is all my fault.

Ansel's dead because of me.

How so?

I had no idea
she'd do something like this.

I just thought she had
a right to know who she was,

to know who her mother was.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Fraser...
Who are we talking about?

Lorraine.

Abigail Marshall's daughter.

It was you.
You took the child from her.

I did as I was instructed.

Who gave those orders?

The lawyer.

Mr. Chilton.

Abigail was inconsolable.

The baby
was the only thing she had.

Two days after we wrested
Lorraine from her arms,

she hanged herself.

But not before
writing a letter

to the child
she would never know.

You went to see Lorraine,
didn't you?

Yes.

To give her the letter,

along with a photograph
of her mother.

She's the perfect likeness.

Why now, after you'd kept
your silence

for all these years?

My conscience could abide
no longer the wrong we'd done.

Neither my husband nor I
were in good health.

I'd hoped to make amends

so we might
meet again in heaven.

What happened to the child,
to Lorraine?

They asked me to arrange
for an adoption.

She went to a good home.

Who took her in?

So you had no idea
of the child's origins?

No.

My wife and I raised Lorraine
as though she were our very own.

Do you know where your daughter
is now, Professor?

She's at her place of work.

And where is that?

She works at Queen's Park.
She's a typist there.

[ Typing ]

Pardon us, ladies.

- Hey! What's going on?
- What are you doing?

Miss Monteith,
we need to have a talk.

Do they read like
the thoughts of a madwoman?

No, they do not.

They shut her up
in that horrible place.

They stole her life.

And for what?

A miserable piece of land.

So you took your revenge.

I'd heard about the ghosts
at Queen's Park.

I knew two of the men
responsible worked there.

And you knew of your adoptive
father's work with radium.

I intended to haunt them
as my mother's ghost,

make them feel the terror
she must have felt

every day in that awful place.

But I never intended
for them to die.

You didn't?

It was their own guilt
that killed them.

I never touched Chilton.
He fell all by himself.

And Dr. Fraser?

I don't know what happened.

He just grabbed his chest
and fell down the stairs.

The only one I intended to Kill
was Walsh.

Your father.

He was no father to me.

What's happening to me?

She's not well, is she?

Maybe it's the radium stuff she
was rubbing all over herself.

It's a very new discovery.
We know so little about it.

- Are we going to charge her?
- I'm not sure how.

The person I'd really like
to charge is Thaddeus Walsh.

That's not very likely,

although his political career
is most likely ruined.

Sometimes there's just
no justice in the world.

Drink?

I might almost say yes.

George, I thought we might
return to Queen's Park

to attempt the capture of
one of the real ghosts on film.

Unfortunately Detective Murdoch
has made it abundantly clear

I'm not to use
the scrutiny camera

for any more
extradepartmental activities.

He's even put it
under lock and key.

Oh.
That is a shame.

However, Emily, there are
said to be several soldiers

from the War of 1812

who haunt the shores
of Grenadier Pond.

I don't know if you'd be up for
an excursion to High Park?

I happen to be free
this evening.

Excellent.

Now, we won't have the camera

to keep watch for us,
unfortunately.

Then we shall simply have to
keep each other awake.

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