All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S11E03.1080p.BluRay.x264-YELLOWBiRD

So... I'm just meant
to swallow it whole?

Have no fear, sir.
It's a dose of good health.

Fine fettle for 24 hours
or your money back.

Money back?

Well, no need.
I think I feel better already.

What do you call them?

"Isolated Accessory
Food Factors."

They're amines
vital for the body.

Vital amines.

Well, here's what you could
call them... vitalamines.

No. Uh, vitalmines.

Vittlemines.

Vi... Vita...

Vitalamines.
Yeah.

Hello.
I'm Dr. Julia Ogden.

I believe I've heard of you.

Oh. You.

Because of your husband,
I lost my laboratory.

And my research experiments

have been put on hold.

Well, it appears
you're back on your feet.

This is quite impressive.

- Miss Demeter, isn't it?
- Marilyn Clark.

It's all theoretical.
I need funding.

I understand you are trying
to achieve a world without men.

First, we need to perfect
refrigeration techniques

to allow the fluid extracted
from the male to be preserved.

- By fluid, you mean...
- Oh.

A centrifuge
would then sort particles

according to density,
allowing us to eliminate

those carrying
the male chromosome.

And then, finally,
each remaining spermatozoon

would be combined with
a single egg from the mother.

Outside of the womb?

Eventually, yes.

My initial findings
indicate numerous complications.

First, I hope to achieve my aims

through intrauterine
fertility methods.

And you believe that
to be possible?

Of course.

Why wouldn't it be?

I see.

Well, thank you.

Dr. Ogden.
There you are.

I afforded myself a break to go
see some of the other booths.

It's remarkable.

Yes, well, I've just been
across the way here,

trying some health supplements.

I'd be wary of those, George.

Many so-called physicians
pass off placebos

as medicine these days.

Some are actually harmful.

I don't think in this case,
Doctor.

I mean, if you're not satisfied,

they'll give you
your money back.

They would hardly do that
with a product that didn't work.

In any case, the detective has
asked that I come and find you.

There's something happening
outside you'll want to see.

Those before me
have been content

to experiment on animals.

Julia, George.

He's really going to do it.

To do what?

A human organ transplant.

What's he going
to transplant, sir?

A foot?
A head?

A kidney.

Of course, such an endeavor
is fraught with peril.

Most surgeons,
even the greatest in the world,

would not dare make the attempt.

But I assure you,

in my hands, the procedure
will be completely safe.

The well-being of my patient
is paramount.

The donated kidney has already
been successfully removed

with no damage to the organ,

and it awaits us
in the operating theater.

- Where did it come from?
- All great advancements

begin with two factors...

Risk and genius.

Both will be on display
this afternoon.

- Who are they?
- I have no idea.

The surgery
will commence momentarily.

Please come inside

- and find your seats.
- Ready?

Excuse me, Doctor.

This seems like
an extremely dangerous endeavor.

- Not in my hands, madam.
- Are you aware

of Dr. Landsteiner's research
on blood types?

How do you know
about Landsteiner?

I'm a police detective.

His work was relevant
to an investigation.

In fact, I visited Landsteiner
in Europe last year.

Blood compatibility is crucial

to the success of
any transfusion or transplant.

If there's nothing else...

Butcher!

You will kill this woman.

Organ transplantation is still
impossible, and you know it.

This woman has months to live,
possibly less.

She is a willing participant.

Fear and convention
would condemn her to death.

I bow to neither.

Clamp.

Sponge.

We're close.
Bring out the organ.

Ligature.

There's too much blood.
Cauter.

She's still bleeding.

Should I put it back on ice?

No!
Get me a sponge.

- We've used them all.
- Well, then run the suction.

- It's running.
- Do it faster! Damn it!

Clamps.
Suction!

Sponges.
Get me something.

I can't see anything.

- There's too much blood!
- That's it.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the surgery was unsuccessful.

- No.
- Aw.

No!

She bled to death.

He must have nicked
the abdominal aorta.

Is that common?

Not for an experienced surgeon.

And if that is what happened, he
should have noticed right away.

That poor woman.

What way to die, in front
of a room of spectators.

Surely she consented
to the surgery.

She may not have known
the risks.

This Dr. Lennox could have
misrepresented his abilities.

- Or he simply made a mistake.
- You there.

- You're the detective, yes?
- That's right.

I have a crime to report.

- Sabotage.
- Sabotage?

- How is that possible?
- I don't know.

But my patient is dead, and
it had nothing to do with me.

Well, you're the surgeon.
Surely you're responsible.

Who are you?

Dr. Julia Ogden, city coroner.

You cut up the dead.
I am a surgeon.

I have an instinct for
the living flesh under my knife.

There is no doubt

something was terribly wrong
from the first incision.

Do you have evidence?

This very morning,
some hours before the surgery,

I double-checked
all my equipment,

only to find that my tank
of anesthetic had been drained.

Luckily, I had time
to obtain a replacement

and didn't have
to cancel the operation.

But then that wouldn't have
affected the operation itself.

Well, no,
but where there is sabotage,

there is more sabotage.

Whoever did this
must be found out and punished.

There you are.

And how exactly
is this my fault?

Whose fault is it, then?

Why does it have to be
anyone's fault?

Everything is someone's fault,
Thomas!

You are always pushing him!

I'm his father.
I'm supposed to push him.

We can't both sit around
mollycoddling the boy.

Oh. He could do anything
he wanted with his life.

He could be a lawyer
or a dentist or...

or write
Canada's greatest novel.

And instead...

You asked for me, Inspector?

Margaret?

Did you ask him

- to come in here?
- Oh, I can't.

I don't.

Get back to the recruits.
I'll be over there shortly.

- Sir.
- And shut the door!

Is this really what you wanted
for him?

And what exactly is wrong
with being a policeman?

He could do so much more
with his life.

Is that right?

Well, if you hadn't noticed,
you're married to a policeman.

You sleep with a policeman.

But this is John.

And he was made
for better things.

I'll fix it.

Thank you.

Excuse me?

Is it true the medical school
is accepting ladies this year?

It is. The school is going
to be coeducational

for the first time, and
we're seeking female applicants.

We could meet doctors!

Dr. Gowland
of Cambridge University

has done remarkable research
with animals in his laboratory.

So with growing confidence,
the medical community

is convinced that human health

is tied with nutritional factors
in our foods.

So these amines are the
foundation for human vitality.

So I like to call them
vitalamines.

You both know I'm not one

to stand in the way of progress,
but I have to say,

this whole transplant business
makes me very uncomfortable.

Why is that, George?

Sir, what if Dr. Lennox
had succeeded?

I mean, where does this stop?

What's to keep anybody
who has anything wrong with them

from simply getting rid
of the broken bit

and swapping it out
with a new part?

Would that be so bad?

Well, first off, where are
we finding all these kidneys

and spleens and elbows?

From the dead, George.

Accident victims, people in
comas with no hope of recovery.

And in the case of the kidneys,
we each have two,

and we can survive
with only one.

Yes, but where does it end?

- Where does what end?
- The madness, sir.

Say I give you a kidney.
And I would without question.

But then you say, "Oh, George,
you have lovely penmanship.

I wish I had your hands."

And I say, "Sir, I've always
admired your strong chin

and square jawline.

Perhaps we should trade."
What's to keep us from doing so?

And then I say,
"Because you have my kidney,

perhaps you should throw in
one of your calves,

finely shaped from avid cycling.

I mean, my point is, once we've
swapped legs and arms and necks,

surely, at some point,
I cease to be me and become you.

George, I highly doubt either
of us would survive all that.

Especially given
our current success rate.

And there are a great
many variables to master.

As you'll see when we begin.

- Shall we begin?
- Doctor.

Mrs. Sheen's abdominal aorta
is intact,

and all of the incisions
were perfectly made.

So I have to admit
Dr. Lennox is a fine surgeon.

He did nothing wrong, then?

Not to the body.

But it appears he didn't
properly examine the blood.

Why would he examine her blood?

In advance of any major surgery,
one must ensure that the blood

is fit enough to withstand
a bodily trauma,

and I believe
he missed something.

So there was no sabotage.
He was negligent.

Well, it's clear that she died
from excessive blood loss.

So I used a hemocytometer
to analyze her cells

and discovered
that her blood plaque

was far below normal levels.

And blood plaque is a chief
factor in blood clotting.

She wasn't a hemophiliac.

But any responsible surgeon

would have refused
to put her under the knife.

Hemophiliac?

Impossible.

Not hemophilia,
but with blood nearly as weak.

Impossible.
Impossible.

I examined Mrs. Sheen's blood
myself this past Tuesday.

Every result was as expected.

Perhaps you saw the results
that enabled you

to proceed with the operation.

Why would I need to?

Do you have any idea
how many people in this world

are nearing death
from a failing of the kidneys?

Hundreds, thousands,
perhaps millions.

I'm afraid I can't simply take
your word for it, Dr. Lennox.

I still have the vial.

- Of Mrs. Sheen's blood?
- Indeed.

In my refrigerated chest.

It's labelled "Sheen,"
possibly with an initial.

I'll wait right here
if you like.

I will be proved correct.

He's right.

The plaque is normal.

So the patient's blood
was healthy

only days before the operation.

Unless Dr. Lennox is lying to us

and this isn't
actually her blood.

So he could get away

with Killing her
on a public stage?

That makes no sense.

There's no other explanation
for the discrepancy.

Unless he's correct

and someone did, indeed,
sabotage his operation.

By sabotaging
the patient herself.

All we know is the patient
had normal blood plaque one day,

but not the next.

Usually this kind of problem
is caused by hereditary factors

or problems with the thyroid.

It would seem someone
did this intentionally.

We simply don't know how.

Where's bloody Watts?

He asked for a couple
of days off, sir.

Thinks he can wander in and out
of this station house

and do as he pleases.

Sir, our case?

Oh, yes.
Right.

So, the question is,
who wanted to see her dead?

Or who wanted
to discredit the surgeon?

That's mad.

There was a man in the crowd
who called him a butcher,

but we have no leads
on identifying him.

I'm willing to bet
that someone wanted

this woman out of the picture.

Start with the husband.

Oi, lads.
Listen up.

This is John Brackenreid.

Now, you are to treat him as you
would any other new recruit.

Any other new recruit
who could have you sacked

at the drop of a hat.

Right, then, John.
You're with me.

I'll show you the Wilton beat.

Oi, Brackenreid.
Where do you think you're going?

Constable Crabtree's
gonna show me his beat.

No, he's not.

I've got work for you
to do around here.

Yes, sir.

- See that bunch of drunks?
- Yes.

Round them up,
throw them in the cells.

Yes, sir.

Inspector.

You remember the last time
we had that lot in the cells?

Oh, I remember just fine.

- Hey.
- Don't you worry, Crabtree.

It won't be you that's
on cleanup duty this time.

The inspector

wants you in the cells,
and there's no use fighting.

Mr. Sheen.

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

Yes.
How can I help you?

Taking a trip somewhere?

Oh, just a little holiday.

Take my mind off things.

Just a moment, dear.

I know this looks like
I am the lowest of swine.

Oh, perhaps not.

Perhaps she's your daughter.

You must understand.

My wife was near death
for years.

I'm sorry to say this,
Mr. Sheen,

but we believe
your wife was murdered.

What? How?

- By that doctor?
- We don't know.

But we suspect foul play
was involved.

Oh, say, I know how this looks,

but I didn't do a thing
to poor Regina.

Did anyone wish your wife
harm recently?

Well, there were some men
who came to see us.

They left poor Regina
quite distraught.

- Who were they?
- Oh.

It was those people
from the church.

The ones that protested
at the operation.

Oh, what do
they call themselves?

The Christian Scientists.

Therefore, metaphysics
resolves things into thoughts

and exchanges the objects
of sense for ideas of soul.

The testimony
of the material senses

is neither absolute nor divine.

Human philosophy
has made God manlike.

Christian Science
makes man godlike.

In closing,
I will recite a benediction

from the "Pulpit and Press."

"Divine presence,
breathe thou thy blessing

on every heart in this house."

- Amen.
- Amen.

Amen.

Thank you.

- So well done.
- Thank you.

- Pardon me.
- Oh, I'm glad.

Detective William Murdoch,
Constable George Crabtree

- of the Toronto Constabulary.
- Oh.

Did you enjoy what you
heard of my sermon?

I can't say
I followed much of it.

Many of the congregants
here in Canada

need a little extra help
with their science.

And you are?

Mary Baker Eddy, of course.

I'm so glad that you're
interested in our church.

Mr. Gable, would you find
some literature

- for these young men, please?
- Mm-hmm. Certainly.

We're not here to discuss
your teachings per se.

- Well...
- MURDOCH:

No.

We were told that some
of the members of your church

visited Mrs. Sheen prior
to her transplant operation.

Well, such an operation
defies our belief

that a medical procedure
of any kind

is an assault upon the body.

Who exactly visited her?

Myself and a couple of others...
Danvers and Lamotte.

Yes, but no member
of our congregation

would ever wish harm
upon another soul.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I'm very tired.

Good day, gentlemen.

Uh, Mr. Gable,
we'll need a word.

Are the men that you
mentioned here today?

Yes, but as I was trying to say,
we never spoke to Mrs. Sheen,

only her husband.

Well, he said
she was quite distraught.

Well, she was,
but it wasn't us who upset her.

Her husband excoriated us
and sent us away

before we had a chance
to explain that the man

speaking to his wife
was not one of our number.

There was someone already there

- when you arrived?
- Yeah.

Can you describe him?

Dark hair, middle-aged.

A serious man, scowling, severe.

I saw him again at the surgery.

He was the one who called
Dr. Lennox a butcher.

Vitality and health in a bottle.

All the necessary amines
from your food

distilled into a single pill.
Thank you.

I see you know
what you're talking about.

Of course.

I only mean
most people selling remedies

don't know a thing
about modern medicine.

Are you a doctor?

I'm at a medical exposition,
aren't I?

That doesn't answer
the question.

How do you know so much
about amines?

I can read.

You know,
you can learn a lot that way.

So you're self-taught.

That's impressive.

It's served me well enough.

Would you like to try
a vitalamine?

I think you might find it
quite rejuvenating.

Where did you get this?

There's a blood booth
around the corner.

You just have to be able
to read the signs.

Blood coagulation
is my speciality.

That's my brand-new pamphlet
on the very topic.

I wonder if you know of any
substance foreign to the body

that inhibits coagulation?

Certainly.

There are a few,
though it's a rather new topic.

In particular, I'm curious about
what might affect blood plaque.

I can think of only one thing.

Acetylsalicylic acid.

Better known as aspirin.

Aspirin?

- The pain-relief pills?
- Indeed.

I only recently discovered
the side effect

while testing
some of my own blood

in the wake
of a nasty ache in the head.

- How well known is this?
- Not very.

You won't find it
in the pamphlet.

But anyone who's visited
my booth could know.

I have been crowing
about it all week.

Dr. Lennox's heckler may be

of more interest in this case
than we first thought.

- But you don't have his name.
- No.

George is having a sketch
made up from his description.

What is it you think he did?

He went 'round
to this woman's house

the day before her operation...

and somehow made
her blood not work?

I may have an answer.

- Aspirin.
- Aspirin?

The pills?

A little-known side effect
inhibits blood plaque.

I tested the victim's blood and
found it in high concentration.

Maybe she was in pain.

I re-examined the body
and found an injection mark

on the back of the upper arm.

Only gas was used
during the surgery.

So, someone stuck her
with a needle.

I believe so. Between 12
and 24 hours before she died.

Precisely during the time frame
that our mystery man

was seen with her.

Also, the side effect
is a recent discovery.

The killer may well have learned
of it at the exposition.

We need to know
if this man visited your booth

earlier this week.

He certainly did.
That's Dr. Ridgeway.

- He's a doctor?
- A surgeon, in fact.

He works in transplants,
though I believe

he's mostly experimented
with animals.

And you spoke with him
about aspirin?

At length. He took
a keen interest in my findings.

Do you know where we might
be able to find him?

I know he's in Toronto
specifically

for this exposition.

I assume he's staying
at one of the hotels.

Dr. Anton Ridgeway.

Thank you, Doctor.

Thank you.

Good people,
may I have your attention?

I have excellent news.

After
the most unfortunate outcome

of yesterday's surgery...

So barbarically sabotaged
by outside forces...

My team and I are ready
to make a second attempt.

- Oh, my.
- This is Mr. Robert Heins.

Tomorrow, he will be
the healthy, happy recipient

of the world's first
human-to-human organ transplant.

There he is.
That's Ridgeway.

- You're a madman!
- Stop!

Drop it!

You are no doctor.

Go back to your goats.

Dr. Ridgeway,
you are under arrest.

He has to be stopped.
Don't you see?

He has to be stopped.

That's enough.

All right, all right.
You've caught me red-handed.

There's no point in denying it.

But it's Lennox who should hang.
He's the murderer.

He performed the surgery.

But Mrs. Sheen died
because of you.

Me?

I had nothing to do with that.

We found evidence
that the surgery was sabotaged.

She was poisoned, in effect,
the day before the operation.

And you happened to have been
with her that very evening.

I was trying to tell her
not to go through with it.

Just a kindly conversation,
was it?

I implored her to withdraw,
and she became upset.

It was for her own good.

That monster was planning

to slaughter her in front
of a crowd of spectators,

and he went ahead
and did just that.

Or that monster was about
to beat you at your own game.

- What are you saying?
- You're a transplant surgeon.

This upstart came along
to steal all your glory.

Medical science is not ready
for a human organ transplant.

If we fail now
on the public stage,

it will set the entire endeavor
back years, even decades.

I had to stop him,
even at cost to myself.

Is it merely a coincidence,
then,

that you've recently taken
an interest

in the effects of aspirin?

Aspirin?
What of it?

You asked Dr. Kemp about
its anticoagulant properties.

- Yes, but...
- Then you used a needle

to give some to Mrs. Sheen.

Knowing full well
what it would do to her.

I did no such thing.

I am a surgeon.

I keep myself abreast
of the latest research

so I can avoid
tragedies like this.

Lives are at stake.
Lennox is the killer, not me.

See this?
Everything that's here.

Hello.

You've returned.

I wanted to hear more about
your ideas on fertilization.

The key is to isolate the female
chromosomes from the male.

Yes, but let's imagine
for a moment

that you didn't care
about the sex of the child.

But that is all I care about.

Well, then let's take
that aspect as a given.

Oh, the rest is simple.

One merely needs
to encourage conception

at the time of insemination.

And how would that
be accomplished?

There are several avenues.

Female fertility
has been long been ignored

by male researchers.

We knew more a thousand
years ago than we do today.

- Is that so?
- Oh, yes.

My research on the matter.

May I read this?

All right.

Thank you.

So, what do you think?

He attempted to assault
the doctor,

but we have no evidence
that he went as far as murder.

He had motive.

He wanted to do it,
he did it,

and now he's lying
to spare himself the noose.

Yes, sir, but motive alone
is not enough.

Particularly given
how many people wanted

to see this transplant fail.

Including the husband.

Wasn't he already stepping out
with some trollop?

Yes, but I believe him to be
honest, even if he is callous.

Now, the most suspicious
character in all of this

- is Dr. Lennox himself.
- Right.

On to more pressing matters.
Carry on, Murdoch.

Inspector.
The cells are clean.

- What, all of them?
- Yes, sir.

I want them as clean
as a kitchen counter.

I'm prepared to eat my dinner
directly off the floor, sir.

So, what now, Inspector?
Should I head out on patrol?

No.

It's shining day, Brackenreid.

Shining day, sir?

Yes, Crabtree,
bloody shining day.

You're shining the boots
of every constable

in this station house.

Yes, sir.

Inspector.

Don't you think you're being
a little hard on the boy?

I'm just putting a new constable
through his paces, Crabtree.

I don't remember having
to perform any of these duties

on my first week.

You'll be doing them this week
and the week after

if you're not careful, sunshine.

Constable Crabtree.

The saboteur
was stealing my organ.

The very organ
that will save a man's life

in mere hours from now.

I apprehended him myself.

You tied him up?
George.

Of course.
I caught him dead to rights.

Was a gag really necessary?

Dear God,
what has happened here?!

It appears there's been
a citizen's arrest.

Who did this?
Was it you?

You monster.

How have I suddenly been cast
as the villain of this piece?

Your friend here already killed
one of my patients,

and now he's tried
to do it again.

- Sir.
- He did no such thing.

Christian Scientists
abide by the law,

even if we disagree with it.

And if not for that,
you would have felt

my wrath by now, sir,
I assure you.

The man tried
to steal my kidney!

Enough.

George, take Dr. Lennox

and ensure that his property
hasn't been damaged.

Sir. I will. But I found this
in Mr. Gable's pocket.

Dr. Lennox.

Detective, please.

All I did prior to the surgery

was switch out
the doctor's anesthetic.

I didn't kill anyone.

Mr. Gable,
I'm not sure I can believe you.

What is this?

A pamphlet on blood coagulation.

It was in Mr. Gable's pocket.

It's true.
It's mine.

Mr. Gable, the man
who gave you this pamphlet

recently discovered
a side effect of aspirin.

A side effect which enabled
Mrs. Sheen to be murdered.

- You're a killer?
- No.

That is not befitting
for a Scientist.

No.

I don't know anything
about the murder.

Why would you,
a Christian Scientist,

be researching
medical discoveries

that fly in the face
of your beliefs?

Yes, why would you, Mr. Gable?

Because I'm a fraud.

A fraud?

You can't understand.

The pain is unbearable.

I've prayed to no end.

It hurts so terribly,
I can barely function.

I had to see a doctor.
I had to.

What is your ailment?

A strangulated hernia.

It requires surgery.

I've been learning all I can
about every aspect.

I'm terrified.

I will pray for you, Mr. Gable.

Thank you, Mrs. Eddy.

But I'm no longer sure
it will do any good.

You could help people more
with some training, you know.

How do you mean?

You could do your own research,
create even better supplements.

Now, why would I do that
when people buy these ones?

You don't want to help people?

Do these pills
actually do anything?

Or are you just parroting jargon
you've stolen from real doctors?

And what if I am?

They still make people
feel better.

No. Real medicine
actually makes people better.

I'm just trying
to make a living.

And I'm making a fine one.

Thank you for your advice
all the same.

Julia. I thought
you'd be at the surgery.

I'm curious about the result,

but I'd rather not witness
another death.

Did you arrest your suspect?

Mr. Gable's doctor
confirmed his story

about his upcoming operation.

He was against the transplant,

but we've no evidence
that he's our killer.

Why risk jail
to stop the operation?

He felt
he was failing his religion.

He wanted to atone.

Detective.

You might find this interesting.

"The Mad Butcher of Milan."
What is this?

It's a news article
from the Continent.

I've only just received it.

It's about a failed surgeon?

Not a failed surgeon.
A veritable killer.

The man killed three women
on the operating table

in the span
of only a few months.

Surgeons lose patients
all the time.

Do they?
Through experimental surgery?

Dr. Ridgeway, I fail
to see the relevance here.

This is about
a Dr. Julius Henthorne.

Oh, indeed.

Apparently his reputation

followed him
across the Atlantic.

Dr. Henthorne legally changed
his name only last month.

He now goes by Bertram Lennox.

The surgery is about to start.

Clamp.

Oh, there it is.
Ew.

Oh, my.
That is disgusting.

Please.
That is my husband.

I-I didn't mean "disgusting"
in a bad way. I...

I'm sure he'll be fine.

- George.
- Sir.

He's removed the kidney already.

Then there's nothing we can do.

Perhaps you could step in?

Not at this stage.

Dr. Lennox is the only one with
any hope of helping him now.

What if he kills him?

We can only hope
that he doesn't.

Ladies and gentlemen.

The surgery is complete.

And the patient is alive.

Bravo!

Well done, Doctor!

Detective, I'm so pleased
you could join me

for this
momentous accomplishment.

I'm glad the patient
survived, Dr. Lennox.

Or do you prefer Henthorne?

I just completed the first
human-to-human organ transplant.

Which name do you think will
sound best in the history books?

You killed three people
in Milan last year.

And?

And one also died under
your knife here in Toronto.

The business
of saving lives comes at a cost.

If that cost is a single life,
fine.

Four single lives.

- So far.
- Four lives?

You accuse me
of losing four lives?

Four lives is nothing.

Anyone with a conscience
would disagree.

It is those who stand in my way
who are without conscience.

I carry the weight of those
four lives, and I do it gladly.

I do it for the world,
for the future.

For humanity.

I will save millions.

And in doing so,
I will not merely prolong life,

but through the procreation
of those I save,

I will create life.

If I'm a murderer,
then so, too, is God a murderer.

John?

Surely your shift
ended hours ago.

I'm just finishing
this last pair.

I'm getting faster, though.

I can get a true mirror shine
in less than 90 minutes.

Shall I do yours next?

You don't need
to polish my boots.

The inspector said every pair
in the station house.

John, it's true that your father
is hard on everybody.

But, I mean, this...

this goes beyond.

He's being hard on me
because I'm his son.

Doesn't matter to me, though.
I'll show him I can take it.

You're a young man.
I mean, you could do anything.

Why are you so intent
on becoming a policeman?

Well, it's the most
honorable job I know.

Constable Brackenreid.
How's it going with those boots?

I've shined nearly every
pair in the station house, sir.

- Fine.
- Will I be on patrol tomorrow?

We'll see. You can finish
the boots tomorrow morning.

Uh, you can take
the streetcar home.

Thank you, sir.

Listen, a few of the lads and I
are going to go out for a drink.

- Why don't you come with us?
- Really?

- Yes, sir, I'd like to.
- Excellent.

And you don't call me "sir."
We're both constables.

More importantly,
answer me this...

If I took the brain of a cat
and put it into a dog,

would I have a cat or a dog?

A dog.

See, that's what these two said.

But you're not considering.

If the soul resides in the mind,

and the mind is the brain...

then surely, in essence,
you're still a cat.

Behaviorally,
what are you doing?

Do you think him
a megalomaniac?

It's likely.

Then he could be
a psychopathic personality.

Most doctors are megalomaniacs,
particularly surgeons.

It's seen by young men to be
a career filled with glory.

There's no glory
in failed transplants.

And a maniacal killer
wouldn't kill the first victim

and save the second.

It makes no sense.

He was awfully lucky.

Lennox?

No.
The second patient.

- How so?
- Think of it.

All of the millions of people
who have died of kidney failure

throughout history.

What are the chances he comes
along at the precise moment

to be the first person ever
to get a new one?

That is lucky.

And doubly so, given that
he was never intended to receive

the transplant
in the first place.

He would have died
if it wasn't for a murder.

Perhaps he made his own luck.

Really, Detective, he can't be
speaking to anyone right now.

His condition is that dire?

The surgery was a success.
That is a doubtless fact.

But his body
will need time to heal.

How confident are you
that he will?

I don't know.

So it's possible
he may not recover.

The kidney
is not yet functioning.

If it doesn't, it is unlikely
his condition will improve.

If he passes
before I can speak with him,

I may never learn the truth
about Mrs. Sheen's murder.

No.
No, he couldn't have done it.

Why do you say that?

I know what you're insinuating.

But that poor man
has been ill for months.

How exactly do you suppose
he murdered someone?

Mrs. Sheen
died from an injection

that was administered
the day before the surgery.

It takes no strength at all
to use a syringe.

The day before the surgery,
you say?

Well, there you have it.

I was with my husband
all day and all evening.

It's impossible.

I'm not so sure.

But how could he have done it
if he never left his bed?

It's quite clear.

Mrs. Heins,
I appreciate your testimony.

But I'm going to speak
with your husband.

Mr. Heins.

I'm Detective William Murdoch.

I'm sorry to bother you.

But I have some questions.

It's about the death
of Regina Sheen.

Killed her.

Yes.

You gave her an injection.
Is that correct?

I-I wished...

I wished her dead...

so many times.

I wished that she would die
so I could live.

Yes, but did
you kill her yourself?

By your own hand?

Mr. Heins,
did you visit Mrs. Sheen

the day before the surgery?

Or were you home all day
with your wife?

Yes.

I was with Jeannette.

So you didn't visit Mrs. Sheen?

The two of you
were together all day?

Yes.

No.

I didn't go out.

But Jeannette...

Your wife?

Your wife left the house
that day?

She does everything for me.

Please.
Don't say any more.

I didn't do anything but pray.

Of course not.

You didn't do anything wrong,
my dear.

I love you.

You know that.

I would do anything for you.

Anything at all.

Please...

Robert, don't leave me.

All right, Detective.

You can take me away now.

What if I did want
to help people?

I beg your pardon?

Well, like you said I should.

If I wanted to help people,
what do you propose?

Well, you are aware

the University of Toronto
Medical School

is now accepting
female applicants.

So? Even if they wanted me,
I couldn't afford it.

If you're accepted,
I could arrange a scholarship

to pay for your tuition.

But that would only be

for someone
who really wanted to help.

Do I look like someone
who would fit in there?

Does that matter to you?

Probably not.

But I can't afford
to just go to school all day.

Well, then you could work
for me.

Work for you?

If you're accepted
into medical college,

I'll see to it that you have
what you need to get by.

And why would you do that
for me?

I'm not doing it for you.
I need an assistant.

It's hard work, it's long hours,

and it involves
a lot of dead bodies.

But if you really want
to help people,

I'm offering you a chance.

You're a real doctor?

Dr. Julia Ogden.

City coroner.

Violet Hart.

But I must warn you...

I have no intention
of being your assistant forever.

Well...

I would expect no less.

I'm sorry your transplant
was a failure.

A failure?
Not in the slightest.

One of your patients
was murdered,

and the other one died.

Yes, I failed
to save a life this week.

But an unsuccessful attempt
is not a failure

if that failure
is followed by success.

This, friends, was progress.

Good day.

He is right.
Progress requires risk.

Someone has to be brave enough
to take it on.

Hardly heroic
when the risk is only to others.

Could you wait a moment?

I think we should work together.

On what?

On your proposals regarding
hormones and reproduction.

Why would we do that?

It will take you
a step toward your goals.

Prove part of your concepts.

But why do I need you?

A few months ago, I was
in Chicago visiting a doctor

renowned for his work
in fertility.

- His.
- He couldn't help me.

But he thinks that
I should be able to conceive.

You seem to be talking
around the point.

The point is, I want to see

if your ideas can truly cure
infertility in women.

I'll provide
the necessary funding.

Where would we find
a test subject willing

to undertake experimental
hormone replacements?

You misunderstand me.

The subject would be me.