All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S06E10 - Twisted Sisters (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

Subtitling made possible by
RLJ Entertainment.

Sir.

These lads
were on a training run

when they discovered the body.

- Training?
- Yes, sir.

For the upcoming Olympics
in Paris, apparently.

Even though the club isn't
sponsoring any track athletes.

Apparently they don't think

we can beat
the famous George Orton.

- DR. GRACE: Excuse me.
- Emily Grace?

Fancy meeting you here.

Ralph?

It's been a long time.
I haven't seen you since...

I called off my engagement,
yes.

Dr. Grace.

We miss you at the club.

I must go.

Did you know that the club

is sending a croquet player
to the Olympics?

- Really?
- Yeah.

Doctor?

Didn't that used to be
your sport?

Dr. Grace!

Sorry, Detective Murdoch.

Who was that chap?

My apologies, Detective.
An unexpected reunion.

Um, upon first examination,

it would appear this woman
likely drowned.

And the wound on her head?

Oh. Yes.

Uh, that would
suggest otherwise.

I'll need a full report,
Dr. Grace,

at your earliest
possible convenience, of course.

Um...

So how did you know these chaps
who found the body?

The Toronto Athletic Club.

Why?

George, are you jealous?

The Athletic Club.

I've never been
through the front door.

I was a member once.

But after I broke off
my engagement to Jerome,

I wasn't quite as welcome.

I do miss it sometimes.

I was quite the croquet player.

- Really?
- Mm-hmm.

City champion
two years in a row.

And now somebody from that very
club is off to the Olympics?

- So it seems.
- Emily, that could be you.

I don't know, George.

I think you do.

Dr. Grace.
Your report?

Detective! Certainly.

Our victim did indeed drown.

And the head wound?

Occurred antemortem.
The wound is a substantial one.

She would have been unconscious
after such a blow

and would likely have died from
it had she not drowned first.

So she was struck first,
and then drowned.

I believe so.

Also, the same
phylum Mastigophora

were found present in both the
water in her lungs and the lake.

So she died
where she was found.

Have you established
a time of death?

Between 7:00 and 9:00
last evening.

Her name is Judith Winslow.

The photo came from her friend,
Miss Sophia Lucas.

She reported
Miss Winslow missing

first thing this morning.

She hasn't budged since.

Dead?

I'm afraid so.

Miss Lucas, you and Miss Winslow
live at the same boardinghouse?

On Isabella Street, yes.

- Was she home last night?
- No.

We had plans to attend the music
hall, but she canceled.

Do you know why?

I imagine it had to do
with her work.

And what work was that?

She was a secretary

at the financial firm
of Mr. Alvin Storey.

Did Miss Winslow
have any enemies?

No.
She was the sweetest girl.

Thank you, Miss Lucas.

George, please accompany
Miss Lucas home

and begin a search
of Miss Winslow's room.

Sir.

[ Typing ]

Mr. Storey, do you know
a Miss Judith Winslow?

Oh, yes, of course.
She works here.

Right over here.

Oh, it seems she's not in.

No.
No, she wouldn't be.

You see, she's been murdered.

- [ Woman gasps I.
- [ Typing stops ]

Well, that is terrible.

Was Miss Winslow
at work yesterday?

I believe so.

And what time
did she leave here?

7:00, I imagine.

That's when
the ladies usually leave.

Did you happen to notice
anything unusual

about Miss Winslow yesterday?

Did she appear anxious
or different in any way?

I'm afraid I wouldn't know,
Detective.

I never paid much attention
to her.

BRIDGEWATER: Emily Grace.

How courageous of you.

The sign-in is right here.

Are you on the team?

No. Not me.

I'm just presiding
over the trials.

Truth be told, we've only had
one competitor so far.

No one dared contest her.

And who would that be?

Emily Grace.

- Hello, Eustacia.
- You seem surprised.

I can't imagine why.

After your
ignominious departure,

the croquet title went to me.

Well, you always did like
my discards.

I'll remember those words while
I'm strolling la Rive Gauche.

We'll see about that.

Sir, I've found
a couple of interesting things.

This is a, uh, diary of sorts.

The last entry
was dated two days ago.

The day before she died.

"Maple Cottage."

And this is a train schedule
for Kleinburg.

She has an aunt in Kleinburg

whom she visits
rather frequently.

Another thing, sir.

It seems that Miss Winslow
was also employed

by The Toronto Gazette.

Doing what?

She was trying to be a reporter,

but all the editor would let her
write was the Lady Fay column.

Lady Fay?

It's an etiquette column, sir.

You know, how to dress the table
for company and so on.

Apparently she wrote the one

about which tie a man
should wear to which occasion.

Did you know, sir, that white
ties are only for formal events?

I almost
bought a white tie once,

but there was a green one there
that seemed to

bring my eyes out more,
or so the lady said.

George.

Judith wanted to be
a serious journalist.

She was always looking
for the one big story

that would make her
a household name.

Apparently without
much success.

Sir, perhaps she recently
stumbled upon something.

And perhaps that something
was in Mr. Storey's office.

You manage the assets of some
of the city's wealthiest men.

That I do.

Detective, I really
don't have time for this today.

Well, perhaps we can have
this conversation

down at the station house,

if that will help you
better concentrate.

[ Sighs ]

Were you aware that Miss Winslow

had aspirations
towards journalism?

Well, if I had been,

I never would have ceded to my
sister's request and hired her.

We deal with
sensitive information here.

Sensitive?

Yes, sir.
Sensitive, but not illegal.

All of my clients' finances
are completely aboveboard.

I should very much
like to verify that.

Oh, please do.
Your time is yours to waste.

May I?

May I?

Any luck, Murdoch?

Sir, we've been through
Storey's accounts.

Everything looks
perfectly legitimate.

Miss Winslow may have been
onto something,

but I doubt it had anything
to do with Alvin Storey.

Something'll turn up.
It always does.

Sirs.
There's been another murder.

It's another young woman,
I'm afraid.

BRACKENREID:
Her name's Ethel Morgan.

She lives... well, lived...
In a boardinghouse nearby.

MURDOCH: Perfectly respectable
neighborhood.

And judging
by her state of dress,

a perfectly respectable woman.

I wonder what she was doing
in a laneway this time of night.

Perhaps she wasn't here
voluntarily.

The killer made no attempts
to hide her body.

She was drowned.
And certainly not here.

Detective, take a look at this.

Two victims,
two nights in a row,

killed apparently the same way.

Not another sequential killer.

I certainly hope not, sir.

I found this
in her skirt pocket.

It seemed strange enough
to be of interest.

MURDOCH: Yes.

It's of great interest,
Dr. Grace.

Thank you.

It could be
an identifier of sorts.

Identifier?

These are unique pieces of
what could be a larger symbol.

But to what end?

Pieces of a whole could mean
that these woman are to him

pieces of a larger scheme.

But until we know
what the symbol is...

We have no way of knowing how
many victims are forthcoming.

For once, Julia,
I sincerely hope you're wrong.

Sir, the landlady says
that she was a student.

Studied at that Baptist college
up on Bloor Street...

McMaster University.

With an apparent interest
in ancient religions.

Did you find any connection
to Judith Winslow?

No, sir.

The landlady had never seen
nor heard of Miss Winslow.

That is a beautiful typewriter.

Look at that, sir,
how smooth the keys are.

Oh, and this pen!
Wow.

George, pack up
Miss Morgan's things.

We'll have a closer look
at the station house.

Sir, will do.

Sir.

"Meet me in my office at 5:30."

Signed "M.B."
Dated yesterday.

Hmm.

Yes, Detective,
I wrote this note.

I am Miss Morgan's
thesis advisor.

What time did Miss Morgan
leave you last night?

She never arrived.

Did that not strike you as odd?

Miss Morgan has other interests
that often divert her attention.

She considers herself
something of a crusader

in the women's suffrage
movement.

- Which you oppose?
- Quite the opposite.

There is not
a single female PhD graduate

from a Canadian university.

Miss Morgan is
on the cusp of greatness.

If she would only focus.

Tea?

A scene from the "Shahnameh,"
the Persian "Book of Kings."

That is the story
of Zal and Rudabenh.

Their great love
was sanctioned by the gods

but not by their families.

Love conquered prejudice, and
they lived happily ever after.

A much more generous ending
than Shakespeare's version.

[ Clears throat ]
You are Persian?

On my father's side,
but I was born in India.

May I ask, is Miss Morgan
in some kind of trouble?

She was murdered.

Drowned.

Drowned.

How awful.

Dr. Grace has determined

that Ethel Morgan was drowned
in her own bathtub.

Yes, sir. Unfortunately,
that doesn't help us.

No connection, then?

Well, sir, we know that
both women attended university.

Judith Winslow went
to Victoria College

and got a degree in literature.

And Ethel Morgan was in the
middle of her master's degree

in ancient religions
at McMaster University.

So they went
to different schools,

studied different courses.

No friends in common,
no hobbies, nothing?

No, sir, but both women were
killed exactly the same way,

and both were in possession
of this same identifier.

What about suspects?
Alvin Storey?

No connection to Ethel Morgan.

What about the other fellow,
Bahmanyar?

No connection
to Judith Winslow.

- [ Knock on door ]
- CRABTREE: Sirs.

I've been going through
the young women's effects.

And you've found something?

It might seem silly, sir.

Out with it, Crabtree.

Well, Miss Winslow
and Miss Morgan

were both in possession
of the same fountain pen.

Yes, Crabtree,
both girls could write.

Not exactly breaking the case
wide open, are you?

No, sir, but this is
a particularly fine pen.

Even more fine than the Parker
gold-filigree Lucky Curve.

You see, sirs,
the nib is made of gold.

This makes it more resilient
to the acid in the ink.

I myself have been envious
of this pen for some time,

but on a constable's salary
it's unlikely...

George, how exclusive
is this pen?

Sir, this particular one
costs $20.

There's only one stationer
in the city that sells them.

Yes, these most certainly
came from us.

Wonderful.

Have you ever seen
either of these two women?

No.

But I've been in England
for the last two months.

I just got back yesterday.
My clerk might know more.

Mueller!

Good day. Detective Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

What can you tell me
about these fountain pens?

Wait. St... Stop!

All right.

Do you know these women?

She came into the shop
a few weeks ago.

With her father.

He bought our best typewriter
and... and one of those pens.

And this one?

That's Judith.

She and I
went to university together.

When did you last see her?

I don't know.
A few days ago.

Look, I'm sorry.
I couldn't help myself.

Couldn't help what?

I knew she wanted it.

You knew she wanted what,
exactly?

The pen.

I gave her
this fancy gold fountain pen.

She couldn't afford it,
and neither could I.

Julia?

Can you believe that
of all the houses in Toronto,

he chooses one
a mere three blocks from me?

What are you talking about?

Darcy has purchased a house
on Jarvis Street.

Perhaps he simply wanted
to be closer to the hospital.

William, please.

He knows full well
that I live on Linden Street

and that my route to work

is directly past
his new front door.

I don't think
it was intentional.

I don't know what I find
more infuriating...

Darcy's blatant attempt
to distress me

or your refusal
to acknowledge it!

Miss Lucas.

Detective,
I'm sorry to bother you,

but I've remembered something
that might be helpful.

Please.

The night before Judith died,

there was a letter
waiting for her.

What was in the letter?

I don't know,
but it was after Judith read it

that she canceled our plans
to attend the music hall.

Mm. Do you know
where the letter is now?

No, but I did catch
of glimpse of it.

It looked as though
it was written in a man's hand.

Ethel Morgan was to meet a man
the night that she died.

I'm sorry, did you say...

Miss Lucas?

- No, I just...
- Are you quite all right?

Uh, yes, yes.
I should go.

William, your Miss Lucas
knows more than she's saying.

Yes. Seems she recognized
the name Ethel Morgan.

Perhaps you've found
your connection.

[ Telephone rings ]

Detective William Murdoch.

It's Sophia Lucas.
I-I must speak with you.

Meet me at 8:00
in Judith's room.

[ Receiver hangs up]

Miss Lucas?
Hello?

Where is she?

Sir.
You're needed.

Sir, this way.

Jackson, what's happened?

Best you see for yourself, sir.

Sophia Lucas?

No, it's not her.

Then who is this?

Do you know who she is?

The landlady identified her
as Virginie Rousseau.

Dr. Grace?

Oh, I've found,
in the case of multiple deaths,

a simple system of organization

makes the cold chamber
much easier to navigate.

The foot is left exposed,

and a quick reference card
is affixed,

allowing immediate access
to whichever corpse is required.

How very organized.

- And your findings?
- It works quite well.

Of Miss Rousseau.

Yes! Of course.

She died at approximately 8:00
last night.

The manner of death
was identical

to that of Ethel Morgan's.

First she suffered
a blow to the head,

which rendered her unconscious
but not fatally so.

Then she was drowned.

So all three women
suffered a blow to the head.

Yes.

You'll be wanting this.

It was also in her pocket.

George, have you completed
your interviews?

Yes, sir.

Sir, we have a witness
who saw a woman

coming out of
Miss Rousseau's room at 9:00.

I showed her a picture
of Sophia Lucas.

The witness confirms
it was she.

Very good, George.

Henry!

Find Sophia Lucas
as soon as possible.

Yes, sir.

Sophia Lucas has played us
for patsies, then.

Possibly, sir.

But her voice
betrayed genuine fear.

Or genuine acting talent.

She was the last one
seen with the victim.

What is that?

A Persian eagle.

It is a Faravahair,
a symbol of Zoroastrianism,

the religion of ancient Persia.

What does it represent?

A guardian angel

and reminder to follow
the principles of Zoroaster,

to be worthy of union
with Ahura Mazda,

the true, uncreated god.

A guardian angel?

Seems like a strange symbol

to place on the dead bodies
of young women.

Professor, do you know of any
other Zoroastrians in Toronto?

Pashti.

And if I did,
I'd sorely like to meet them.

As far as I know, Detective,
I am the only one.

Pashti.

Detective, your figure
seems to be missing its tail.

Sir, there's a fourth piece.

That means
there's a fourth victim.

We'd best find Sophia Lucas.

Crabtree, where's Miss Lucas?

She hasn't been seen
since last night, sir,

before she telephoned
the detective.

Right.

I'll get all the lads on it,
whatever it takes.

Miss Lucas is neck-deep
in all of this.

She's our best suspect.

Or our next victim.

- Inspector.
- Julia. Thank you for coming.

George.

Uh, sir, our latest victim,
Miss Rousseau,

comes from "Rye-mouse-sky"?

- Rimouski, in Quebec.
- That's the one, sir.

She came to Toronto
to study at St. Hilda's College.

Apparently her parents
would only allow her

to attend an all-women's school.

There are such schools
in Quebec.

Yes, but it seems she wasn't
accepted into any.

She wanted to become a doctor

but consistently failed
her exams.

Did she know Miss Winslow
or Miss Morgan?

I don't think so, sir.

What about Miss Lucas?

Not as far as I can tell.

So our only common factor

is that all three women
were university educated.

Could that be
why they were being targeted?

It's a theory.

It would fit with
the nontraditional career paths

each of these women
had chosen.

Professor, doctor, journalist.

Right, then, George.
Have a look at our recent cases.

See if there are any complaints
from university-educated women

who are being threatened
or attacked.

I know of a place
where you could speak

to many
of these women themselves.

And this is?

Toronto Adelphean Society,

modeled after
an American fraternity for women

founded in 1851.

Amazingly, the Americans
began educating their women

long before we did.

I wish there had been a society
when I was at school,

but we were
only a handful then.

Those were pioneering days.
We have it much easier now.

Do you know Judith Winslow?

Of course.

Judith was like
an older sister to me,

not just a fraternity sister.

It was because of her

that I had the courage
to become a student myself.

How very sad
what happened to her.

And the others.

The others?

Ethel and Virginie.

We've been quite devastated
by it all.

Miss Gregson,
are you telling me

that you knew
all of these women?

Why, yes.

They were three
of the founding members,

along with Sophia and Amelia.

- Sophia Lucas?
- Yes.

In the beginning it was
more like a secret society,

with rituals and rules.

White robes and all.

Now it's more of a study group.
Especially after what happened.

After what happened?

Three years ago, a member died.

Amelia Richards.

She committed suicide.

How, exactly?

She drowned.

Amelia was always frail.
Poor thing.

Always had trouble
with her lungs.

But it didn't stop her
from doing whatever she wanted.

She was so close
to graduating from university.

In the weeks prior
to your daughter's death,

was she at all unhappy?

She was happier
than I'd ever seen her.

But so secretive.

How do you mean, secretive?

Going out at all hours,

never telling me
who she was with.

Or, worse, lying about it.

This was unlike her?

Oh, yes.
We'd always been very close.

Mrs. Richards, could there have
been a man in Amelia's life?

I've often
wondered that myself.

Because of this.

I found it after she passed.

It looks like a courting gift,

though I've never seen
the likes of it before.

So you knew Amelia Richards?

She was a student of mine, yes.

As was Ethel Morgan.

And you surely know
what happened to Miss Richards.

Yes.
A tragedy.

Prejudice can be hard
to overcome.

- Prejudice?
- Yes.

Female students are often
subjected to derision.

I imagine it's not unlike
being of a different religion.

People can be cruel.

Was Amelia Richards
ever threatened?

- I wouldn't know.
- But you'd know about this.

Do you know
who this belonged to?

Amelia Richards.

Do you know how she came
to be in possession of it?

You said yourself that there are
very few Pashti in Toronto.

Presumably this type of token

would be very difficult
to come by.

Mr. Bahmanyar, we know bloody
well that you gave it to her.

She was my Rudabeh,
my forbidden love.

But her parents would have
never sanctioned our union,

and my religion does not allow
marriage outside the faith.

It was hopeless.
She simply couldn't bear it.

- Who else knew of your affair?
- Not a soul.

I would have lost my job, and
she would have been expelled.

How did you know Judith Winslow
and Virginie Rousseau?

I don't.

Where were you
the last three nights at 8:00?

Here. Alone.

And it's Mr. Bahmanyar.

Oh, he's good for it.
Slippery bloody foreigner.

Sir.

[ Indistinct talking ]

So you are really going to
try to take me on?

I am, whether or not
you allow me to practice.

I have earned my spot
on the team.

I object to you being able
to contest it.

Considering my ability,
I can't say I blame you.

No one here
is going to cheer you on.

Quite the opposite, I imagine.

I've arranged my own supporters.

Paid for, out of your very own
little salary, I imagine,

working woman that you are.

Who allowed that rabble in here?

Emily!

I hope
I haven't missed anything.

Hello there.
Uh, George Crabtree.

Um, how's the practice going?

I'm... I'm very much looking
forward to the game tomorrow.

That's a nice suit.

From Timothy Eaton's, is it?

Uh, my Aunt Begonia, actually.
She's an excellent seamstress.

Homemade!
How quaint.

I must say, Emily,
he's so very perfect for you.

A match made in middle class.

Well, Dr. Grace, this place
is exactly how I imagined.

I know you're nervous,
but I think you'll swing circles

around this Eustacia Stokes.

I'm quite looking forward
to watching you beat her.

George, I think it might be best
if you don't...

If I don't what?

Nothing.

If you don't want me to come,
Emily, just say.

It's all right.
I understand.

- George.
- It's fine. I take no offense.

[ Door closes ]

Henry, watch what you're doing.
You're muddling up the evidence.

What are you talking about?
This is Sophia Lucas' pen.

No,
that's Judith Winslow's pen.

Well, then, it's Ethel Morg...

See, George?
It's Sophia Lucas' pen.

All three girls
with the same pen.

Good work, Henry.
Come with me.

That Kane Mueller
from the stationery store

has something to do with
Sophia Lucas' disappearance.

This is where he lives.

She's in there.
I know it.

George.

That's him.

Henry, I'll wait here.

You fetch Detective Murdoch
immediately.

[ Indistinct talking ]

Sir!
We've found Sophia Lucas.

Lads.

You can't come in here.

Out of the way.

No, hey.
No, wait!

Go this way.

Miss Lucas!

Miss Lucas!

This one's clear!

Check the other end
of the hallway.

[ Gasps, cries ]

He's going to kill me next.

Who?

Professor Bahmanyar.

Where is Kane?

Mr. Mueller is in holding
until we get some answers.

He has nothing to do with this.
He's just a friend.

I asked him to hide me.

Miss Lucas, please tell me,

why is it you think
Professor Bahmanyar

is trying to kill you?

Miss Lucas, I know about
the Adelphean Society.

I know about Amelia Richards.

Oh. You know?

Mm.

It was all a terrible mistake.

Judith and her rituals.

She wanted us
to be like the Freemasons.

Then she found out about Amelia
and that foreigner.

Professor Bahmanyar.

We were all disgusted,
but Judith was really angry.

She said
that Amelia was jeopardizing

everything that women students
had fought so hard for.

Not only would the dalliance
have led to her expulsion,

but she would have disgraced
her family and us.

Tell me about the night
Amelia died.

We wore white robes.

We'd never dressed
for a ritual before.

We went to the lake.

We dunked her underwater
six times.

One for every month
she was involved with him.

The sixth time
she went underwater,

she stopped
breathing altogether.

We didn't know what to do.

But it was ruled a suicide.

No one asked any questions.
No one else knew.

Only the four of us.

He must have discovered
what we'd done.

Now they're all dead.
All but me.

May I go now?

No.

No, you most certainly
may not go.

What do you mean,
I killed three girls?

I did no such thing.
I didn't even know two of them.

We know
you drowned those girls,

the same way
they drowned Amelia Richards.

Amelia?
What do you mean?

Her friends
learned of your affair,

and her friends
wanted to put an end it,

so they "purified" her

by repeatedly
immersing her head underwater.

- But her weak lungs.
- Exactly.

They killed her,
you killed them.

Amelia murdered?

All this time?

Yes.

So she did not kill herself?

No.

Thank you, Detective.

Thank you.

Gentlemen,
I believe he was sincere.

He genuinely did not know
the truth

about Miss Richards' death.

Excuse me, Doctor, but I think
you've been taken in somewhat.

I watched the emotions
on his face.

Only a very calculating person

would be able to control himself
so convincingly.

And there's been
no other indicators.

And yet Bahmanyar
is the only person

with any sort
of motive whatsoever.

I'll agree the murders seem
to be motivated by revenge,

but perhaps not Bahmanyar's.

How about the lad
who works in the pen shop?

No.

I believe it was someone
who knew

what really happened
to Amelia Richards.

But other than Sophia Lucas,
they're all dead.

- Do you have the statement?
- Yes, sir.

"We dressed in white robes."

Took themselves very seriously,
didn't they?

Hilda Gregson
mentioned white robes.

I believe she did.

But how would
she have known that?

Because she was there.

Miss Gregson, you're aware

of what happened
to Amelia Richards?

She committed suicide.

The truth... that she was
drowned and left for dead.

You're also aware
that three of the women

that participated in that ritual
are now also dead.

Drowned.

You witnessed the event,
perhaps even sanctioned it.

I had nothing to do with it.

Where were you
the past three nights

between 6:00 and 8:00 p.m.?

Here. Studying.

With any number of witnesses.

I didn't kill anyone.

I didn't kill Amelia.

No.

But you watched her die
and did nothing.

What could I do?

I couldn't tell anyone.

- No one would believe me.
- [ Footsteps ]

Hilda.
Are you all right?

BRACKENREID: So Alvin Storey
is Hilda Gregson's half-brother.

And you think he knows about
Amelia Richards' death?

Yes, sir. And I believe
my first instinct was right.

Judith Winslow
was onto something.

George!

Sir.

Before her death,

Judith Winslow visited
her aunt's cottage in Kleinburg.

Maple Cottage.

Perhaps she left some notes
there for safekeeping.

Crabtree, you're on
the next train.

Sir.

So you think Storey
wanted Miss Winslow dead.

But, then, why the other girls?

Well, sir, perhaps he killed
the other girls

to throw us off the track,

thinking that we would
link the other deaths

to the first murder
and Professor Bahmanyar.

That would make him
a right evil bastard.

I'd be inclined
to agree with you, sir.

And you don't know
where George is?

He said
he was off to Kleinburg.

- Today?
- Mm-hmm.

But that means
he'll miss my croquet game.

Well, I could watch your game,
if you'd like.

Uh, that's quite all right,
Constable Higgins.

Of course.

MURDOCH:
Have a look at these women.

Do you recognize them?

And, uh, this.

Except there's
one piece missing.

I wonder
who that was meant for.

Her?

I don't know these girls.

You should.

They were all
part of the Adelphean Society

with your sister.

If you say so.

As was Amelia Richards.

I know what happened to her.

My sister
wasn't involved with that.

No, but she knew the truth,

as did your secretary,
Judith Winslow.

Because you knew Judith Winslow
had killed Amelia Richards,

you knew you had something
you could use against her.

Use against?

She was a secretary.

A secretary
trying to become a journalist.

And like any good journalist,
she had found out something.

Something that could
destroy you.

Tell me about Maple Cottage.

You keep them out of this.

I'm afraid I can't do that.

George.

Hello.
Thank you for coming in.

Could you please
identify this man?

It's all right.
You can tell him.

He is my husband.

I see.
Thank you.

But there's no record
of your marriage.

We may not have been married
in a church,

but we are married
all the same.

And Judith Winslow
had found out the truth.

I don't know what you mean.

You don't have
a shred of evidence.

We found this in your home.

WINSLOW:
I know your secret.

STOREY:
Judith knew about my wife.

She was going to
write a story about it.

She said I was a disgrace

and that my wife was
a "dirty Indian."

I told her I would tell everyone
what she did to Miss Richards.

But she laughed at me,
told me no one would believe it.

I couldn't contain myself.

I grabbed her
to shake some sense into her,

but she stepped backwards
and hit her head.

I took her to the lake
and threw her in,

thinking it would look like
she drowned.

And what about
the other two women?

I had to make it look like
someone else killed her.

By pointing the evidence
at Professor Bahmanyar.

If people had found out
about Marianne,

it would have destroyed me.

It would have destroyed
my children.

I would have lost everything!

Damn it, man,
I was protecting my family.

Any man would do the same.

I don't think that they would.

I'm going to see
that you hang for this.

Professor?
You've been dismissed?

Affairs with students
are forbidden.

I'm being made an example of.

Oh, I see.

Where will you go?

Perhaps Australia.

They don't mind
an indiscretion or two.

- I wish you luck.
- Thank you, Detective.

Thank you for setting
my heavy heart free.

I spoke to my solicitor.

Mr. Storey's assets
will go to his sister.

She refuses to acknowledge
the new family.

He intends to marry her legally
before his trial.

At least then the children
will be taken care of.

DR. OGDEN:
I suppose that's something.

Emily, we have to begin.

Just another few minutes.

Obviously your man-for-hire
found a better job.

Or have you finally realized
you're outclassed?

In every sense.

Look, we have to start now
or you forfeit.

Emily!

I'm sorry I was detained.
Police duty.

Good Lord.
A constable.

Even worse than I thought.

- Thank you for coming, George.
- I wouldn't have missed it.

Shall we?

- Well done, well done.
- Nice shot.

CRABTREE:
Excellent shot, miss.

Dr. Grace, it looks like you
have your work cut out for you.

- Ohh!
- Ohh!

Well, it looks like the game
really and truly is on.

[ Clicks tongue ]

[ Clears throat ]

Ah-choo!

Dreadfully sorry.

That's not very sporting, man.

Oh, are you going to arrest me,
Constable?

I should thank you, Ralph.

Your sneeze put me
in an excellent position.

I suppose
I should start saving my pennies

for the Galerie Colbert.

STOKES: Yes.

Perhaps they are looking for a
shop girl and a security guard.

I can just imagine the papers.

"Lady doctor
and her pet constable

take the gutters of Paris
by storm."

[ Chuckles ]

Oh! Oh!

Oh, I'm so sorry.
How dreadfully clumsy of me.

Oh, my foot.
It's broken.

- It's broken!
- Oh, it is not.

Ralph!

Uh...

Look, I'm sorry, Dr. Grace,

but I have no choice
but to disqualify you

and ask you to leave
the premises immediately.

Dr. Grace was about
to win the competition.

Assaulting one's opponent

is hardly the action
of an Olympian.

Emily, you were about to win.

Of course I was.

So, what,
you threw away Paris for me?

Oh, don't go getting a swelled
head over it, George Crabtree.

- Good crack!
- [ Chuckles ]

Subtitling made possible by
RLJ Entertainment