All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - S09E10 - The Big Chill [1080p]

Oh, all right!
It's not going anywhere.

Oh. Go ahead.

So soft.

Oh, sweet mother!

I'm sorry.

I didn't know you were real.

I'm George Crabtree.
What's your name?

Well, yes.
Very good.

Attention, all!
Proceed to your seats.

The great Captain Joseph Bernier
is about to take the stage

for today's lecture.

Where the Swedes and Yankees
have failed,

I shall succeed.

Oh, I'm sorry.
These seats are taken.

...I shall make my mark.

A mark for Canada.

I will be the first man
to set foot on the North Pole!

Thank you.

Have we missed much, George?

Just the exhibition part, sir,
and a chunk of the lecture.

I see you brought young Roland.

We are determined to live our
lives as we otherwise would.

Modern parents
in a modern age.

...purchase a new ship.

And I ask that you consider

contributing to this
daring effort as well.

Shall we make
a small contribution?

If you like.

That way Roland
will grow up in a Canada

whose boundaries extend
all the way to the North Pole!

The heart and soul of any
expedition starts with her crew.

And I have the best
in the world.

The CGS Arctic.
The best vessel money can buy.

Her first journey
will test her resolve

as much as it will mine.

I'm sorry.
He's becoming restless.

I should
walk him around outside.

Julia, I can take him.

No, William, stay.
I'll be fine.

...or Eskimos,
as you know them,

taught us
how to use them for ice travel.

Mr. Blair.

Take that off!

Take... Take that off!

Oh, I'm sorry,
ladies and gentlemen.

I apologize for...
For that fright.

No.

Another... Another slide,
Mr. Blair, please.

What... What are
you doing, Blair?!

I'm talking about
the future of Canadal.

Sir, is this still
part of the presentation?

I really don't think so,
George.

Can't you see this?

Someone is trying to sabotage
my grand expedition!

Well, that may be so...

They want my funding withdrawn,
my ship taken away!

To put an end to this!
The fate of Canada is at stake!

Mr. Bernier, you yourself admit
the man died in your charge.

Men die all the time
on such expeditions!

Entire crews perish!

Do you know of
Sir John Franklin's journey?

Of course.

Yet, in this case,

someone believes you
personally responsible.

Before I investigate the
sabotage of your presentation,

I must first determine
the validity of their claims.

Well...

Maybe you'd care
to see the body?

- You have the body?
- Yeah.

At the local funeral home.

I understand you're a member
of Captain Bernier's crew?

Yes.
I'm his photographer.

I also took some moving pictures
of this most recent expedition.

The ones
in the nickelodeon here?

Yes.

- I quite liked that.
- Thank you.

Did you take the photograph
of the dead man?

Shortly after
the body was found.

And as projectionist
of this slide show,

I'm assuming
you arranged the photographs.

Yes, but I surely
did not put in the ones

accusing Captain Bernier
of murder.

His name was Arthur Pimblett.

A dear friend who was at my side
in all my expeditions.

A man of science and nature,

he served as my navigator
or doctor.

I'll miss him.

How did he die?

Whenever the ship
was stationary,

Arthur explored
the surrounding areas.

He dreamed of discovering

new species of wildlife,
you know?

But he never returned
from that fateful walk.

- He got lost?
- Yeah.

Maybe he suffered from snow
blindness and froze to death.

How long after his disappearance
was he found?

Four days.

The search cost me
valuable time.

I had to turn back or risk
running out of provisions.

I'm told you have the body.

- Yes.
- There we go.

Such as it is.

Decomposition must be
quite advanced at this point.

Arthur died three months ago.

I preserved him the best I could
using salt,

but I'm afraid he's not cutting
as fine a figure as he once did.

Well, I eagerly await his
arrival at the city morgue.

Gentlemen.

Bye.

Well, I do hope she's a better
coroner than she is a mother.

I beg your pardon?

She hardly knows
how to hold a baby.

Oh.
Well, I, uh...

Not fit for motherhood anyway.
Too skinny.

- Monsieur Bernier...
- My wife has meat on the bones.

I like to know she'll survive
an angry winter

while I'm away.

Monsieur Bernier,
the coroner is my wife.

To each his own.

Uh, who might wish to suggest
that Mr. Pimblett's death

was your doing?

Who else?
The Swedes!

Björn Nordenskjold.

He wants nothing more than
to beat me to the North Pole.

That's why he's in Toronto.

I see your slide show did not
go so well, Mr. Bernier.

I hope
you don't lose your ship.

What of sending your men
to the North Pole

in a hydrogen balloon?

It was six years ago
and still no return.

Can we assume
that was a failure?!

I see.

Decomposition was
indeed advanced.

Coupled with the salt
used to preserve it,

the body became dry
and shriveled.

Mummified, if you will.

I see you've given him a bath.

I'm hoping
this sodium hydroxide mixture

will rehydrate the body
near to its original form.

Very resourceful, Julia.
Have you tried this before?

No.

But if it works,

I should be able to provide
a more complete picture

of the circumstances
he died under.

Well, then, I shall await the
results of Mr. Pimblett's bath.

Or I could tell you the cause
of the death right now.

You can?

He may well have
wandered off the ship

as Mr. Bernier claims,

but I don't believe
hypothermia killed him.

He was throttled, William.

My preliminary examination

revealed fractures
of the hyoid bone

and surrounding cartilage.

Strangled.

- By ligature or manually?
- I can't say.

There's too much discoloration
of the skin

to discern bruising patterns.

Either way, this man's death
was no accident.

Oh, I tried to keep him away.

It's not your fault,
Miss James.

The detective and I
were distracted.

If you don't mind my saying,

perhaps the morgue isn't
the safest place for a baby.

You should take him for a while,
while I continue here.

Strangled?

It's impossible.

Arthur Pimblett was murdered,
Captain Bernier,

I'm afraid to say.

You claim to have
no knowledge of this?

I won't dignify
such a question.

Why don't you elaborate
on the circumstances

surrounding his disappearance,
Captain?

Like I mentioned,

Arthur went on a walk
and never came back.

My crew fanned out
looking for him,

but it was too late.

Who found him?

An Inuit crew member.

Nuniq.

Carried him three miles
back to the boat.

Would he have had any reason
to want Mr. Pimblett dead?

Oh! Heavens, no.

Arthur was closer to Nuniq
than any of us.

It was Arthur's idea

to assimilate an Inuit
into our crew.

You're from Quebec, Captain.
What brings you to Toronto?

This is where Arthur was born
and deserved to be buried.

And I also hope to find
his replacement here.

All the while asking the public
to fund your next expedition.

Well, Captain, if we have
any further questions...

Of course.
Of course, Inspector.

Oh, um, if I had any involvement
in Arthur's murder,

do you think I would have
volunteered his body to you?

Well, you did express
a lack of confidence

in our coroner's abilities.

Well, thank you, Captain.
I'll show you out.

Yeah.

You seem to have a bee in
your bonnet about the captain.

And you seem
to quite like him, sir,

which I find surprising given
how you feel about Frenchmen.

Yes, well, he's not
a Frenchman Frenchman.

He's a Canadian Frenchman.

And if he claims the North Pole
for Canada,

he's also claiming it
for the British Empire.

Right.

Oh, bloody hell, Murdoch,
give him here.

Come on, Roland,
Little fella.

Have you not you heard
of a nanny, Murdoch?

Get him on your knee
and bounce him.

- That's working, sir.
- Yes.

Right, I'll get Crabtree
to interview Bernier's crew,

see if they can
corroborate his story.

Uh, I can't go anywhere, sir,
or do anything.

Just this.

Welcome to fatherhood,
Murdoch.

Strangled?
Who would do such a thing?

That's exactly what we're trying
to ascertain, Mr. Philips.

What exactly was your duty on
Captain Bernier's expedition?

Third officer, technically.

Though of course
I'm much more than that.

- How so?
- Captain's protégé.

I'm being groomed
as his successor.

In me
he sees the same qualities

that made him a captain
by the age of 20.

I'll have my own ship
before long.

Best of luck with that.

I certainly won't be under
someone else's command

in my 30s.

No, heaven forbid.

Can you explain to me
the circumstances

around Mr. Pimblett's death?

Derek Frewen,
first officer of the CGS Arctic.

- What's going on here?
- Perhaps you could help.

He said Arthur
was strangled to death.

That can't be.
He froze to death.

Nuniqg found his body
four days later,

returned it to the ship.

Bernier yelled at him
when he did.

Not sure what for,
but it was damn funny.

Captain Bernier
was very upset

over the death
of his dear friend.

Thank you, gentlemen.

Mr. Nuniq, may I have a word?

Yes, I am Nuniq.

I understand that you discovered
Mr. Pimblett's body

and brought it
back to the ship.

Yes. Sad day.

And that when you arrived
back at the ship,

Captain Bernier yelled at you.

Can you tell me why?

I say
Arthur not have gloves on,

but Arthur always wear gloves
when exploring off ship.

What exactly
did he yell at you?

He say not my concern.

Right.

Well, thank you, Mr. Nuniq.

Just Nuniq.
No Mister.

Nuniq.

Are you enjoying Toronto,
Nuniq?

Yes.
My people would not believe.

Oh, I daresay.

It's a city of almost
a quarter-million people.

I should show you around.

Vast improvement.

I wish Roland took to baths
with such ease.

- He puts up a fuss?
- Always.

But, then,
maybe I'm not doing it right.

I question how well suited I am
to the tasks of motherhood.

- Well, maybe...
- Miss James, come look at this.

Sir, the crew seemed
genuinely surprised

to hear
that he'd been strangled,

but I still had the sense
they're hiding something.

Did you speak with the Inuit
fellow who found the body?

Yes, sir.
Nuniq.

Actually, he mentioned that
when he happened upon the body,

Pimblett was without gloves,

which obviously was unusual
due to the cold weather.

As if he had been forced
off the ship against his will.

Did Mr. Nuniq...

Just Nuniq, sir.
No Mister.

Did Nuniq report
the inconsistency

to Captain Bernier?

He did, sir,
and apparently Captain Bernier

tore a strip off him
for making mention of it.

- William, you'll not believe...
- Shh.

We're... We're trying to
get him to sleep, Julia.

I'm sorry.

Oh, it's all right.
It's all right.

When I... When I
took Mr. Pimblett out...

There's no point
whispering now, Doctor.

Right.

You were saying, Julia?

The benefits of the bath
revealed Mr. Pimblett

had a shackle
around his right ankle.

He was imprisoned
before his death?

Only one person would have
authority to do such a thing...

Captain Bernier.

Mr. Pimblett
had been shackled.

Our coroner
found evidence of it.

Just what did he do
to warrant imprisonment?

Poor...

Poor Arthur had gone mad.

I was forced to confine
my best friend in his room

for his own safety
and that of my crew.

He was mad.

Well, then, how is it
he came to be

three miles away
from your ship?

He escaped.

I shackled him to a pipe,
but he broke it and ran off.

Lord knows
what he was thinking.

What was he doing?

I mean, how did this madness
manifest itself?

He was delusional.

Even thought we were
in the Pacific Ocean.

Drawing maps and babbling on
about Pacific salmon.

Pacific...
Pacific salmon?

I'm telling you,
he was deranged.

Obsessed by the fish.

Why did you keep this
from us?

To preserve his name, sir.

I'm sorry
not to tell you before.

Are you now prepared to tell us
who strangled him?

I don't know nothing about it.

I swear to you, Detective.

I can only imagine
that in his crazed state

he wandered into
a hostile Inuit community.

You're suggesting that

Mr. Pimblett was killed
by Inuit?

Wouldn't be the first time, sir.

Sir, I'm to speak with Nuniq
this evening.

I'll ask him the likelihood that
Pimblett was killed by Inuit.

Or Nuniq himself, George.

We're very lucky to get a table
at this restaurant, Nuniq.

I-It's very popular and,
as you can see, very expensive.

- Uh...
- Thank you.

Nuniq, no.

V-Very sorry. Please excuse...

- I am Nuniq.
- No, Nuniq.

Uh, please pardon my friend.

He's not accustomed
to our customs.

Nuniq.

Thank you.

Sir.

In my culture,
we share everything.

My food is yours,
your food mine.

In the beginning
it was not mine or ours,

and today it is not.

I like the sound of that.

In some ways, that's more
civilized than our society.

Sometimes it feels like

everybody's crawling over
one another

for a bigger piece of the pie.

Shameful, really.

We are happy people.

Speaking of which, Nuniq,

do you think it's possible

that Mr. Pimblett happened
upon an Inuit tribe

and for whatever reason
met his end that way?

No.

No, I suppose you have
no such thing as murder

in your culture either.

No, we do, but there are
no Inuit communities

near where I find Arthur.

Impossible.

Either white man from ship
kill him or Qalupalik.

Qalupalik?

Pardon us.

We were wondering
what "Nuniq" means?

Close your eyes.

That's what Nuniqg means.

Join us, why don't you?

- Please, have a seat.
- Yes.

There you go.
You as well, of course.

Waiter, we'll have
another round.

Ha ha hal.

Ah, here we are.

I am Crabtree!

I am Nuniq!

Nuniq, somebody should make
a moving picture

of... of your time here.

Like the Arctic nickelodeon,
but here.

"Nuniq of Toronto."

"Nuniq of Toronto."

Oi, shut it!

Oh, quiet yourself.

Nuniq, I do have
one serious question.

Did you kill Arthur Pimblett?

No.
We were friends.

We talk about fish
he draw in journal.

Salmon.

He had a journal?
Can I see it?

No.
Journal go missing after he die.

Did you say salmon?

Oh, how lovely.

His brain came out quite neatly.

It'll make for
a most satisfying dissection.

Now, the honor of cutting
the first slice

is yours, Miss James.

I don't think I can,
Dr. Ogden.

Why not?

I might become sick
on the subject.

You'll get over it.

Now come.
Get your hands dirty.

We need to determine
whether a tumor

was the cause of Mr. Pimblett's
supposed insanity.

After you, Captain.

The Eskimo said that
Mr. Pimblett's journal

disappeared after he died.

Do you know
where might we find it?

No.
But why would anyone want that?

We don't know, but the fact
that it's missing

may have to do
with his murder.

I doubt that.

It was just drawings of fish

and random dates
that only he understood.

But mostly fish.

I'm telling you
he was totally insane.

Yes, he was insane.

But we only have
your word for that.

Unfortunately,
our coroner didn't find

anything in his brain
to explain his insanity.

Ask my crew.
They will tell you the same.

Our constable
is doing that now,

but I suspect
they'll only tell us

what you want them to tell us.

What does it matter anyway?

Now that my reputation
is unfairly tarnished

with Arthur's blood,

I'll never raise enough money
to get to the pole.

Nor will I find his replacement.

Arthur was truly one of a kind,
you know?

Gentlemen.

Uh, don't lose faith,
Captain.

If the Swedes do take the pole,

before you know it, they'll
be marching south wanting more.

I can't allow that.

That's why you need to be
forthright with us.

The sooner we get this settled,

the sooner
you'll be back on the ship.

You get my word, Inspector.

Then I wish you good luck
for your lecture.

Ah, thank you.

Oh, maybe you'd care to make
a contribution yourself?

- What do I get in return?
- How do you mean?

Well, I'd be more inclined
to donate

if I got something for it...

Say a jar of Arctic ice
from the pole.

I'd pay $10 for that.

The crew was reluctant, sir,
but they eventually conceded

that during the expedition
Pimblett went insane.

Anything else, George?

Well, sir, the photographer,
Mr. Blair,

he claims that Pimblett
was already insane,

or eccentric at the very least.

How so?

Well, he claims that just prior
to the last expedition,

Pimblett adopted
a vegetarian diet

and tried to subsist the whole
time on canned vegetables.

Well, unwise, perhaps,

but far from convincing me
the man was insane.

Also, sir, the crew says

that he'd become obsessed
with salmon,

even though he never ate it.

He was
continuously sketching salmon.

Yes, I've heard
all about the salmon.

Well, if he did go
a bit doolally,

it at least explains him being
miles away from the ship

with no gloves on.

Well, insane or otherwise,

we still don't know
who strangled him or why.

Especially if we take
Nuniq's word

that there were
no Inuit nearby.

Sirs, there is
another explanation.

Qalupalik.

Now, in Inuit lore...

Sir, in Inuit lore,

Qalupalik is
a humanlike creature,

and he crawls out of the sea

with long, stringy hair

and sharp fingernails
and webbed hands

and a greenish hue to his skin.

And he wears a pouch, sirs.

He takes his victims
and stuffs them in his pouch,

and he carries them...

- Oh, never mind.
- Never mind what?

I just remembered we still have
Mr. Pimblett's body,

as where Qalupalik carries
his victims

down beneath the ocean forever.

After the brain dissection

failed to reveal
any abnormalities,

we conducted blood tests which
showed high levels of lead.

Lead?

Further examination
of the cadavers tibia

revealed dense
metaphyseal lines,

a classic symptom
of lead poisoning.

I see.

Other symptoms
include delirium,

cognitive deficits,
and even hallucinations.

Well, then,
I suppose Captain Bernier

was telling the truth
after all.

Lead poisoning
is often the result

of exposure to contaminated soil
or water.

It seems unusual
that he would be

the only crew member to suffer.

He had adopted
a vegetarian diet,

brought all of his own
canned food aboard.

Perhaps the tins
were contaminated?

If he was the only one to eat
from them that would explain it.

Well, then.

Thank you, Miss James,
Dr. Ogden.

Young Master Murdoch.

I do think motherhood
suits you just fine, Dr. Ogden.

Did you hear that?

Our fearless prime minister

has already
contributed $200,000,

but it's not enough.

I ask that you
consider contributing

to that most daring effort!

But I am not looking for
a handout,

my fellow Canadians.

In return for your contribution,

you will receive a priceless
token of appreciation.

For $10, I'll bring back a jar
of genuine Arctic water

direct form the pole.

That was my idea.

Very enterprising, sir.

For $500,

you may become member of
the crew of the CGS Arctic.

Uh, safe return not guaranteed.

$500.

Margaret may have that
in her cookie jar.

Thank you,
ladies and gentlemen.

The rest is yours.

Mr. Frewen, a word please.

I'm quite busy, Detective. The
captain needs all hands on deck.

Just why did Captain Bernier

insist on confining
Mr. Pimblett?

What threat
did he pose exactly?

Well, I suppose Mr. Pimblett
had become capricious,

aggressive even.

- Toward Captain Bernier?
- Yes.

In fact, he was so rife
with madness,

he tried to start a mutiny.

A mutiny?
Why?

He became convinced that the
captain was leading us to death.

Hmm. Did this mutiny
gain any support?

With some of the more
impressionable crew, yes.

But thankfully the captain
quashed the mutiny

after Mr. Pimblett's death and
fired those that betrayed him.

Serves them right.

Mr. Frewen.
Come and help!

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Don't speak to your superiors
like that, Mr. Philips.

I am first officer.
You're merely third officer.

Oh, shut up and help me,
you fool.

Mutiny, sir.
It gives Captain Bernier motive.

Mr. Pimblett must have
discovered something that

threatened Captain Bernier's
future expeditions.

Including his attempt
at the North Pole.

Arthur Pimblett
started a mutiny.

That's why you shackled him,
isn't it?

I shackled him
because he was mad.

But he also started a mutiny.

Yes.
Obviously out of madness.

But he was gaining support
with some of the crew members.

Perhaps that's why
his journal went missing.

It had details of the mutiny

which you wanted
to keep a secret.

What are you suggesting?

That your friend had become
a threat to the expedition

and to future ones,

that he believed that you were
leading your men to their death,

and if word of that got out,

the Canadian government may
reconsider giving you a ship.

So you think
I killed my best friend?

It would have been easy
for you to strangle him

while he was shackled,

and make it appear
as though he wandered off

to freeze to death.

That's quite an accusation,
Detective.

It would also explain

why Mr. Pimblett was found
without gloves on

and why you yelled at Nuniq
for mentioning it.

I'm very hurt.

All I wanted was to keep
Arthur's madness a secret,

and now I'm being accused
of his murder.

Captain Bernier,
did you murder Arthur Pimblett?

I will say no more.

Well, if there is evidence,
I will find it.

In the meantime, I'll be
holding you in our cells.

If he did it,

why would he bring the body all
the way back and hand it to us?

A guilty conscience, perhaps?

What we do know
of Bernier

is that he ruled his ship
unconditionally

and was one of few
who had access.

Pimblett had lead poisoning.
He was a crackpot.

How much of a threat
could he have been?

Sir, any threat at all
gives the captain motive.

Until he starts telling the
truth, I recommend we hold him.

Even if it means Canada won't be
the first to the North Pole?

Sirs, Canada may yet still
be the first.

I've just been
to the exhibition.

Mr. Philips has been named
captain in Bernier's absence.

The third officer?
That was bloody quick.

He's very young, sir,
but he's very ambitious,

and he's said
to be very talented.

Something of a prodigy.

On whose authority?

The government of Canada, sir.
It's their ship, after all.

He convinced them
he was up to the task.

I'm surprised the expedition
wasn't scrapped altogether.

Bernier's the world authority
on the Arctic.

Without him, it's doomed.

Maybe so, but this promotion
gives Mr. Philips motive.

Sir.

Mr. Blair.

We're looking for Mr. Philips.

You won't find him here.

He's out celebrating
his promotion.

Are you planning
on leaving Toronto?

No, I live here.

But I am leaving the employ
of the CGS Arctic

now that Philips is captain.

Why?

For all his talent,

he's inexperienced
and far too ambitious.

He may get them to the pole,

but I doubt
if they make it back.

Why do you say that?

When Captain Bernier
cut the last expedition short

after Pimblett's death,

Philips nearly convinced him
to press on.

I'm not about to risk my life
for the glory of someone

who has little or no regard
for their crew's safety.

Thank you, Mr. Blair.

Uh, Mr. Blair,

is that the moving-picture
camera you used

to make the nickelodeons?

Yes.
Why do you ask?

This will be
an excellent nickelodeon.

"Nuniq of the North
Visits Toronto."

I got that. I got that.
The kick.

Nuniq?

Oi.
Have you two retired?

What's this?

This eventually will be
my nickelodeon, sir.

Although I have lost
my subject.

Have you not got work to do?

George insists
that this is work.

Coming up here, sirs.

Right there.

Isn't that Mr. Nordenskjold

dining with Mr. Philips?

Just last night, sir.

Canada's new captain
dining with our chief rival.

Bloody Swedes.

Good work, George.

Congratulations on your
promotion, Captain Philips.

Thank you.

How did you celebrate?

I enjoyed dinner
with friends.

These friends?

Just what were you doing
having dinner

with high-ranking Swedes
when you're to be captain

of a government-sanctioned
Canadian expedition?

They wanted to speak with me.

What about?

To see whether I might captain
their ship to the North Pole.

Don't they have captains
of their own?

Yes, but Captain Bernier
is the best in the world,

and as his protégé,
I am the next-best thing.

- And what did you say?
- That I would consider it.

Though I doubt they could
outfit a finer vessel

than the CGS Arctic anyway.

You would
betray your country?

I only care about being
the first man to the North Pole,

whether it's under the flag
of Canada or Sweden.

I see them only as sponsors.

That traitor
should bloody hang.

Maybe so.
Yet no law has been broken.

We'll see about that.

I sent Crabtree
to search his room

while you were
interviewing him.

And it's true
that he's one of the few

who could have stolen
the negatives

leading up to the show.

And now he's leveraging
his newfound position

to solicit offers
from the Swedes.

Unless, sir, he's been working
with the Swedes the entire time,

Mr. Pimblett caught onto him,
and that's why he was killed.

Philips then tries to pin it on
the captain and take his ship.

Sirs, I found
Pimblett's missing journal

in Mr. Philips' room.

Arrest him, George.

Sir.

What's going on?

Sir, Mr. Pimblett
wasn't insane.

Well, he was insane,

but he made
a brilliant discovery.

A discovery that I dismissed.

Well, what is it?

A yet-to-be-attempted route
to the North Pole.

Daring in scope,
but brilliant in its simplicity.

Every explorer has attempted
to reach the North Pole

from the east.

But by studying carefully
the weather patterns

and natural currents,

Mr. Pimblett suggested that
one could reach the North Pole

from the west,
through the Bering Strait.

Well, what's so brilliant
about that?

This was long thought
to be impossible.

The distance from the nearest
point of land is much further.

He theorized that if you left

at the exact right time
from the west

and allowed the ship
to become locked in ice,

the weather patterns and
ocean currents would carry you

right to the North Pole.

- That sounds crackers.
- Exactly.

But it's brilliant.

His theory was validated
when he discovered salmon...

Pacific salmon... locked in ice
in the east Arctic,

just as a ship would be
were it to be locked in ice

having left from the west.

But the final map detailing how
to accomplish this is missing.

It's been
torn out of the journal.

That bloody weasel Philips
must have it.

I didn't steal the journal.

I-I don't know how it wound up
in my room.

- Where's the map?
- What map?

The map detailing how to get to
the North Pole from the west.

The west?
I don't have such a map.

Although the Swedes did mention
something about a new route.

What did they say?

They were vague,
but they mentioned something

about a new route to the pole
from the west.

I thought they were insane
as Pimblett.

My protégé.

Shame on you
for talking to the Swedes.

So the Swedes
approached you

with this information,
not the other way around.

Then the Swedes
must have the map.

But how did they get it?

Someone from your crew came
across Mr. Pimblett's diary,

murdered him for it,
and sold the map to the Swedes.

I'm afraid one of your men
is working for them.

A traitor?
In my midst?

But why would the Swedes
turn around

and approach Philips
to be their captain?

In addition
to gaining a captain,

they would be leaving Canada
without one.

Then the traitor must be
a crew member here in Toronto

to have sabotaged
my slide show as well.

What's that, Crabtree?

Oh, sorry, sir.

It's my nickelodeon.
I'm just finishing it up.

Even though
Nuniqg abandoned you?

I wouldn't say
he abandoned me, sir.

We're just not spending
as much time together lately.

I hear he's
quite the man about town.

It's true, sir.

I'm glad. I'm glad he's
meeting new people in Toronto.

But heaven knows
where he's been sleeping.

Nuniq!
There you are.

I've been worried about you.

Can I come back to your home
to stay?

- Yes, of course.
- I miss home.

I want to go back,

but I don't trust the new
captain can make safe journey.

The new captain, Mr. Philips,
he's in our jail cells.

No.

Derek Frewen
is the new captain now.

The first officer?

Frewen has been made the new
captain of the CGS Arctic.

Ridiculous!

Frewen is a reliable first mate
but a hopeless leader.

Doesn't mean he doesn't
have ambitions for more.

Frewen is the traitor.

Betrayed by my own first mate.

Let's say he came across
Mr. Pimblett's journal,

he recognized its value,
and murdered him for it.

By pinning the murder on you,

he would be eliminating
all of Sweden's competition.

Then he shares Pimblett's
western route with the Swedes.

But when Mr. Philips
became captain,

Mr. Frewen felt passed over,

so he attempted to frame him by
placing the journal in his room.

And according to Nuniq,

Frewen has himself
a train ticket to Vancouver.

Where he'll assemble
his own crew

and head for the North Pole.

To claim it
for bloody Sweden.

He's been the traitor
all along.

George.

Sir, there's Mr. Frewen now.

Oh, Mr. Frewen.

Stop!

Drive!

Drive! Go!

Stop!

- Hey!
- Out of the way!

Hurry, Frewen!

I'm free!

And I'm gonna take
the North Pole for Sweden!

Inge leve Sverige!

Get in, you fool!

Long live Sweden!

Sir, should we give chase?

I don't think so, George.

We have the man we want.

They're not going to be

getting anywhere near
the North Pole without this.

Long live Sweden.

Mr. Frewen, you're under arrest

for the murder
of Arthur Pimblett.

And for treason.

Long live Canada.

I suppose you'll be heading
back home now

that Captain Bernier's
been reinstated.

Yes.
I miss family.

Thank you for Toronto,
Crabtree.

You certainly
made the most of it.

I have something for you.

"Nuniq of the North
in Toronto."

This way your family
can share in the experience.

Mr. Blair said
he'd project it for you.

Thank you, Crabtree.

"Nuniqg" means "kiss."

No, I just say that.

"Kunik" means "kiss."

So, what does Nuniq mean?

Another time.

Merci! Thank you all
for your generous support.

Captain.

I see the fundraising campaign
is a success.

Would you like to join
my expedition?

- Oh, well, I'm flattered.
- Not you, Inspector.

You, Detective.

- Me?
- Yeah.

You're a man of science,

and by translating
Arthur's journal,

you proved yourself
a worthy replacement.

If you need a real seaman,
you'd take me, not Murdoch.

That may be, Inspector.

But there can be
only one captain,

and you, my friend,
you're a captain as well.

Ah. Captain of Station House
Number Four.

Well.

Captain.

You know,

Captain Bernier asked me
to join him on his expedition.

- Did he, now?
- Mm.

But I told him
I could not accept

on account of being a father.

And how long
would the expedition take?

Four years.
Give or take a year.

But if not for being a father,
you would go,

leaving me here
for four years?

You would wait for me, Julia.

Don't be so sure.

Speaking of being a father,
where is our child?

Right this way.

It replicates the motion of
bouncing him on one's knee.

Look how happy he is.

Oh, yes.
He's our gleeful bouncer.

I could use
one of those at the morgue.

That's why I've made three...

One for the morgue, one for
here, and one for my office.

That way,
Roland can remain occupied

while we go about our work.

- We'll never miss a moment.
- No.

- No.
- No.