All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S11E13.1080p.BluRay.x264-YELLOWBiRD

If it's a girl, I like Mary.

Oh, your mother's name.

I would like to honor her.

I love the name Mary.

And if it's a boy?

Uh, well, William would be nice.

William II?

It is a convention to name
the eldest son after his father.

So we'll be calling him Junior?

Or Will.

Or will Will will his name to be
something other than a verb,

a noun, and future indicative.

Check, please.

William...

You don't have to say the name
if you don't like it.

I never said that
I didn't like your name.

I'm afraid I can
only offer you this.

"You've saved my life.

Allow me to pay for your meal."

Extraordinary!

Who ever could it be?

I have no idea.

Well, it couldn't be for me.
It must be for you.

I've never saved anyone,
except you... twice.

Well, I've never
saved anyone, either.

Well, there was the one...

I suppose if you count...

You simply have to tell us.

You're invited to join him
in the private section.

President Roosevelt.

Detective Murdoch and Dr. Ogden.

Imagine my delight
in seeing you here.

Oh, these fine men
are my guide and guard.

Victor Palmer
and Wilbur Reynolds.

Gentlemen.

What brings you to Canada,
Mr. President?

I am here to hunt
the legendary White Moose.

I've never heard
of such a thing.

Well, I believe albinos exist
in every mammal species.

Oh, it's not albino.
It has dark eyes.

That's what makes it so rare.

Then may I ask,
why do you want to kill it?

To preserve it, of course.

You could preserve it
with a photograph.

Oh, there's already
a photograph.

It's the moose I want.

And where do you
hope to find it?

Apparently he returns
to Crane Lake

every year at the fall equinox.

Is that common?

For an animal to go to the same
spot at exactly the same time?

Perhaps it's legend, but I'm
willing to take that chance.

Well, then,
I wish you happy hunting.

I wish you happy hunting, too.

- I just hope you miss.
- Oh.

Oh, I must ask that we
keep this meeting secret.

The Canadian government
is unaware I'm in your country.

Your secret is safe with us.

I don't care if he's
the king of bloody England.

He's... He's sneaking into
our country to kill our moose.

You're laying claim
to the moose”?

Well, it's a beautiful, rare,

- majestic beast.
- Sir!

Doctor.

George?

I'm sorry to disturb you
on a night out,

but we've had a call
to the station house.

Somebody's requesting that you
meet them at the Queen's Hotel.

Room 208.

- Who?
- He wouldn't say, sir.

Only that it was
of vital importance.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry.

I'll see you at home.

Actually, sir,
he's asked for both of you.

Oh, no.

Is this the man that called us?

No.

Terrence Meyers.

His name is Guillermo Burgos.

He was an agent
for Spanish intelligence.

I'd like you to find out
who killed him and why.

We had a meeting, but he failed
to show, so I became suspicious.

What was the meeting about?

I'm not at liberty to say.

Did it have anything to do
with the Americans?

No.
Why do you ask?

The door was forced open.

It was locked from the inside.
I had no choice.

All the windows are also locked,

which means Mr. Burgos died
inside this room alone.

And along with the fact
of his death,

there's a top secret dossier
that's missing.

There are no obvious signs
of trauma.

I won't know cause of death
until I conduct a postmortem.

Can you help me flip him?

There's something
under the sheet.

Let me see that.

That is the missing dossier.
Intact. Thank God.

I'll see you both
in the morgue in the morning.

An injection mark?

That's what I thought at first,

but there were no signs
of poison

in the blood or the organs.

It's also not where one
would readily find a vein.

No.

So he wasn't poisoned.

Well, there are several poisons
that are fairly undetectable,

but I found something
much more interesting.

Electrical burns to the bottom
of the sigmoid intestine.

Obviously an electrode
was placed internally.

So this was torture?

Actually, I believe it was
the means of execution.

This is where the electrodes
were attached.

The charge would have
traveled through the heart,

stopping it long enough
to cause death.

So he wasn't tortured.

Well, there was a slight
deformation of the ulna

which could have been
quite painful.

How recent?

I'll need your Roentgen ray
device to determine that.

I'll have it sent over
straightaway.

Electrocuted?

It's also likely
he was tortured.

You seem preoccupied
with that possibility.

Is your concern for the victim
or what he may have revealed?

Do I seem like
the sentimental type?

If it was worth torturing
and killing a man for,

then it's at the center
of this case.

Tell us what it is.

I can't.

- National...
- Bloody security.

Right.

So where does that
leave us, Murdoch?

Mr. Burgos was electrocuted.

Now, he did not do that
to himself in a locked room.

Also, the killer somehow escaped

without using the door
or the window.

Sir, perhaps the killer
was never actually in this room.

Then how did he kill Mr. Burgos?

Perhaps... with robotic arms.

Built into this wall,

just waiting for the victim
to fall asleep.

And when he did, they made use
of this point of entry.

They came in through the vents,
extended across the room,

taking the victim
in their deathlike grip,

and when the deed was done,
they simply retracted,

without a trace.

And how would these
robotic arms controlled?

By whoever was in the next room,
of course.

The next room.

Help me with this, George.

Good Lord.

Find out who stayed
in Room 206, please.

Sir.

Sir.

What have you, George?

The room was rented
by a Juan Gonzales.

Did you get a description?

Nobody remembers seeing him.

I believe this apparatus
was used to kill Mr. Burgos.

Sir.

There's something
under the bed here.

Looks like
photo-processing equipment.

I used the Roentgen rays
to determine

whether the ulna fracture
was recent.

And the answer is yes.

How recent?

Sometime in the last two
or three days.

It appears to be the result
of a force applied slowly.

- Painful?
- Very.

So this was torture.

Yes.
That's a reasonable conclusion.

I also found this.

I would have dismissed it
as a sliver

had it not been
for the location.

- Right above the injection mark.
- Exactly.

Something was inserted
directly into the muscle.

- Postmortem?
- I believe so.

I retrieved it and discovered
it was a roll of metal foil.

I've unfurled it.
Take a look.

E-N.

- E-N7?
- Yes.

Let me see that.

No, it can't be.

What can't it be?

I've seen this before.
I know this killer's work.

Who is it?

El Noche.

Spanish for "The Night."

He's an assassin who specializes

in Killing his victims
invisibly.

Then why leave his mark?

Vanity.

He wants his work appreciated

but only by those worthy enough
to find it.

At least now we know
who we're looking for.

How do we find him?

You can't.

He doesn't exist.

He's a character in a novel.

Is someone impersonating him?

I'm the only one
that's read the book.

Who's the author?

A former adversary,
now imprisoned.

His location is top secret.
You can't go there.

Well, then he'll just have to be
brought to the station house.

Thank you.
You can go.

Allen Clegg.

I thought you were dead.

Hello, gentlemen.

As you may recall, Mr. Clegg was
relinquished to our authority

after he attempted an attack
on his own country.

Which he tried
to blame on Canada.

I expected he would hang.

Mr. Clegg is now a guest
of the Canadian government.

Apparently your prime minister
thought me more valuable alive.

Alas, I didn't talk.

No, but he has chosen
to write a book.

Entitled "Shadow of the Night."

You intercepted it.

Oh, come, Mr. Clegg.

You didn't actually believe
we would allow you

to publish a book, did you?

Who's read it?

Only me.

What's this book about?

A disgraced American
agent reclaims his glory

by foiling the assassination

of the president
who abandoned him.

That's it?
That's your précis?

Who's El Noche?

El Noche is a Spanish assassin

whose brother was killed
on San Juan Hill.

He swore vengeance against
the man who pulled the trigger.

- Theodore Roosevelt.
- If you don't mind.

He tricks Roosevelt
into coming to Canada

to hunt a Great White Moose.

He knows that Roosevelt
will want this moose

and that he'll sneak into Canada
with a minimal retinue

rather than suffer
a meeting with Laurier.

Roosevelt apparently
finds him boring.

True.

We've uncovered a murder
that was committed

by someone who left
the mark of El Noche,

a fictional character.

He's not entirely fictional.

You based your villain
on a real person?

It's permissible in fiction.

Who is he?

I first heard of El Noche
during the Spanish-American War.

No one knew who he was,
but anyone who wronged Spain

could expect his shadow
to fall on them.

Through systematic
methods of persuasion,

we learned a good deal
about him.

Did you leave anything out
or make anything up?

I made up the plot and, uh,
the bit about the white moose.

Everything else I got
from stories I was told.

El Noche is deadly real,
gentlemen.

And he always finds his target.

It's time for the truth, Meyers.

I've told you the truth.

Theodore Roosevelt
was in Toronto last night.

How do you know that?

We met him, my wife and I.

He paid for our dinner.

Just before you sent for us.

You didn't think that
worthy of mention?

He's in Canada to hunt
the Great White Moose,

which apparently returns
to the same place

at the same time every year.

He showed me
the Geographic article,

which I assume
you got into his hands.

I should never have
brought you into this.

If my superiors were to discover
that this was out...

Well, it is bloody out.

And if you don't tell them,
we will.

I'm afraid you can't do that.

Murdoch, get on the phone
to the prime minister's office.

Yes, sir.

They know who we are.

Tell them it's a matter
of national security.

Switchboard.
Police protocol.

I'd like to call Ottawa, please.

The prime minister's office.

Thank you.

The prime minister
doesn't know about any of this.

Who does?

Burgos, but he's dead now,
so just me.

And possibly EI Noche.

Gentlemen, when I read
Clegg's book, it struck a chord.

The protagonist
is based on Clegg.

The whole book is a roman a clef
of his wishful fantasies.

But it spoke to me.

An agent whose star has fallen
finds a path to redemption.

Your star has fallen?

There were certain incidents
during my time in Borneo

that have somewhat
darkened my reputation.

And how does tricking
the American president

into coming to Canada to hunt
a moose restore that reputation?

Burgos was to fake
an assassination attempt,

which I was to foil.

You copied Clegg's entire plot?

How was I supposed to know
it was based on real life?

Carry on.

Naturally, Roosevelt
would have been grateful

that we had saved his life.

Likewise, he would have
been embarrassed

that he had sneaked into Canada.

This would have
given Laurier an edge

during reciprocity negotiations,

and I would be restored
to Agent First Class.

And Burgos?

Burgos, already compromised,
feared retribution from Spain.

After his capture,
I was to fake his death

and give him a new identity.

Unfortunately,
he was tracked down

and killed by EI Noche himself.

Bit of irony there.

So how do we catch him?

Well, sir, the first step is to
learn all we can about El Noche.

Starting with Mr. Clegg's book.

No.

I'm afraid that's classified
as top secret.

Not anymore it isn't.

I'm finished.
Who has Chapter 67?

I do.

Well, here, let's swap.

We aren't supposed to swap.

Damn it, Higgins,
Chapter 5 ends with El Noche

drawing a bead
on Roosevelt's forehead.

I have to know
what happens next.

Roosevelt trips, and the shot
goes over his head.

That's a bit anticlimactic.

What a crackerjack
of a novel, eh, lads?

- Who's got Chapter 5?
- Sir.

Gentlemen, gentlemen, we are
only reading one chapter each

and noting everything
about El Noche.

Oh, you are the death of joy,
Murdoch.

Thank you, sir.

What have we learned so far?

He's not afraid of heights.

He travels in the treetops
above his quarry.

He has a terrible fear of water.

Won't even get into a boat.

He hides photos in his bedposts.

I'm sorry, what?

El Noche knows that they're
on the way to his room.

They still don't know
what he looks like.

But if they find
the photos in his room,

then they'll know all his plans,

so he hides the photos
in his bedpost.

Bloody brilliant.

Anything?

Nothing.

Hid it in the bedpost.

Oh, well, perhaps Mr. Clegg
invented it as a plot device.

Wrote himself into a corner.

Would you look at that.

It's what I feared, gentlemen.

How do you mean?

That is a photograph
of a document from the dossier

that Burgos was carrying.

What does that mean?

It means that El Noche has
all the information he needs

to assassinate
President Roosevelt himself.

Sirs.

The station agent at Brignall
said that the only people

who disembarked
at the northbound 10:14

were a woman and two children.

What about southbound?

He said a lone man did get off
the southbound train at 11:48.

That can't be El Noche.

He would be traveling
northbound.

But, sir, if he carried on
northbound to Parry Sound,

then took the southbound
to avoid detection...

It's what I would do.

So he's got a head start.

Henry, when is the next train
out of Toronto?

There's a 12:42
out of Union Station, sir.

That's enough time
to pack and change.

We'll make Crane Lake
by nightfall.

But we know he prefers to attack
under the cover of darkness.

We also know the assassin
is terrified of water.

We'll be safe on this island.

Well, get to it,
then, gentlemen.

Where is my bolograph?

Your what?

It converts heat radiation
into a graphic array.

You can see people in the dark.

Well, actually, sir,
you can see the heat

radiating off of their bodies.

George!

Sir, I found it.

Where was it?

Sir, McNabb had taken it
to help him shoot raccoons.

Bloody McNabb.
Big dozy git.

Thank you.

Well, get a move on, then.

You've got 10 minutes
to catch that train.

Ah. Good luck.

You know,
it occurs to me, Murdoch,

that should we reach Roosevelt
before El Noche attacks,

I will, in fact, be saving

the American president
from assassination.

And if Roosevelt dies?

The Americans will want
to know why he was in Canada.

They'll probably uncover
the role I played,

and my life will be over.

Then I'd suggest
we pick up the pace.

Sir, a body's been found in
an alleyway off D'Arcy Street.

Well, let's get a move on.
And let's inform Dr. Ogden.

Sir.

Right, let's see
what we've got, Crabtree.

Oh, good God.

It appears he's lost his head.

And his hands,
by the look of it, sir.

The killer obviously didn't
want us to identify him.

What have we, gentlemen?

A particularly grisly one,
I'm afraid, Doctor.

That it is.

Excuse me.

Well, I've never seen her
react like that before.

Sir, that's the second time
I've seen Dr. Ogden

overcome like that.

Women have peculiar
constitutions, Crabtree.

When Margaret
was expecting Bobby,

the sight of blood
would send her into a fit.

Sir, are you suggesting
Dr. Ogden is with child?

Bloody hell, Crabtree, I'm
saying women are unpredictable.

Don't look for a reason
for their behavior.

You won't find it.

Everything all right, Doctor?

Let's just get it over with.

Judging by the...
The body temperature...

...and the state
of rigor mortis,

I'd suggest the time of death
was shortly after midnight.

As for the cause of death...

...I'll have to let you know.

Sir, something rather gross
has been found.

Oh, no.

Three bedrolls.

The president is traveling
with two other men.

Mr. President.

My dog chased a rabbit
through the fence.

He didn't catch the rabbit,
but he found this.

He wanted to keep digging.

- Oh, boy.
- Oh, gracious.

Oh, bloody hell.

Sir.

Are you're thinking
what I'm thinking?

That this belongs to the body
we found earlier?

Get your dog
to sniff around some more.

I'll give you a dollar
for every body part you find.

- How about two?
- Don't push it.

- Sir, look.
- Come on.

There's a scar
on the middle finger.

So?

The finger mark I lifted from
the photograph in the bedpost

had a similar scar.

How would a Spanish assassin
know I'm here?

Even my cabinet
is in the dark about it.

- Well, sir...
- We don't know.

But as you well know, sir,

Spanish spies are among
the world's best.

I'm convinced as to the threat,
Mr. President.

Damn it, Reynolds, I'm not
leaving without that moose.

It returns every year, sir.

We can always come back.

You say he only
attacks at night.

- Well, according to...
- That's correct.

Then we won't have time to get
to Brignall Station before dark.

No, but we can get to the island
before the sun sets.

But what good is the island?
We'll be sitting ducks.

The assassin is afraid
of open water.

Won't even get into a boat.

How do you know so much
about him, hmm?

Interestingly, we learned
about him from...

Spanish intelligence.

The assassin is apparently
a rogue agent.

Personal vendetta against
yourself, apparently, sir.

What did I do to him?

His brother was killed
in your charge up San Juan Hill.

Well, if that's the case,
we ought to pack

and move on
as quickly as we can.

Go.

Murdoch, you cannot
tell them about Clegg.

Mr. Meyers, I will not lie
to the American president

in order to spare you
the consequences

of your poor decisions.

Listen carefully. Clegg being
alive was not my decision.

It was Laurier's.

Two years ago, we informed
the American government

that we had hanged Clegg.

We did not.

We only kept him alive

in order to extract American
intelligence secrets.

So you see, Murdoch,
my own personal interests

are not the only ones
at stake here.

It's a match, sir.

You're saying these belong
to the infamous El Noche.

Well, most of him.

There's still a head
and a hand at large.

He was an assassin
who killed an assassin

and has now been assassinated.

Concisely put, sir.

Thank you, Crabtree.

We found the head.

Let's have a look.

Crikey.

Sir, that's...

The prison guard that escorted
Clegg to our station.

So Clegg's escort was El Noche?

He's been dead how long?

Midnight last night.

Clegg and the guard left
the station after 11:00.

Sir, I'll get Clegg's picture
to all points of transit.

Carry on, Higgins.

Sir.

The device uses a bolometer
and a graphic array

to visualize heat radiation.

This would be excellent
for hunting at night.

It's only accurate
up to 100 yards

but should help us see
anyone approaching the island.

There's someone
coming right now.

Sir, you must remain
in the tent.

Canvas won't stop
a bullet, Meyers.

No, but it will obscure you
from a sniper on the mainland.

Please.

Sir, we found the Canadian
government wagon

abandoned outside Union Station.

So he's making good his escape.

If freedom is what he's seeking.

How do you mean?

Well, we showed Clegg's photo

around Union Station
this morning.

A clerk remembers
selling him a train ticket

to Brignall this morning.

Brignall?

That's the nearest station
to where Roosevelt's camped.

Sir, it can't be a coincidence.

What does this have to do
with El Noche?

Sir, what if Clegg's guard
was playing the role of El Noche

while Clegg
was still imprisoned?

To what end, though?

Because Clegg's been trying
to obscure the true identity

of the assassin all along.

Bloody hell.

Allen Clegg...

Is El Noche.

There'll be a station agent
at Brignall.

Get me Brignall Station
right away.

Yes, sir, this is
Toronto Constabulary.

We need to get an urgent message

to a hunting party
at Crane Lake.

Yes, I realize it's nighttime.

Give me that, Crabtree.

Now, listen to me.

The American president
is staying at Crane Lake.

He will be killed if he doesn't
get this message immediately.

Message as follows...

Allen Clegg is El Noche,
and he's escaped.

Repeat... Allen Clegg is
El Noche, and he's escaped.

I must insist
you keep down, Mr. President.

He can still shoot at us
from the mainland.

Well, let him try.

His muzzle flash
will reveal his position.

Perhaps you should remove
your hat, Mr. President.

The Parry Sound Constabulary
has sent a group of men,

but most likely they won't
get there until dawn.

What about the station agent?

He's on his way... by canoe.
Apparently it's quicker.

It'll be all right, Doctor.

As soon as he gets the message,

Detective Murdoch
will know what to do.

The first I went hunting
was in Maine.

I was taught by the best.

Bill Sewall, Wilmot Dow.

What were you hunting?

Waterfowl mostly.

I was rather nervous at first.

The anticipation.

The exhilaration of lying
in wait, finger on the trigger.

And now I lie in wait
for someone to shoot me.

Pardon me, Mr. President.

Detective Murdoch's device
has picked up a signal.

There's somebody near our boat.

Here.

Who's that?

I don't know.

It's the railway agent
from Brignall Station.

- What's he doing out here?
- There's something in his mouth.

It's part of a telegram
from Station House Number Four.

El Noche.

El Noche?

It's the name of the assassin.

Where's the rest
of that message?

More importantly,
what was the message?

Hold on.

"El Noche" is Spanish
for "The Night."

- He calls himself "The Night"?
- You've heard of him?

Oh, yes. We know a man
who called himself The Night,

but he wasn't Spanish.

Who was he?

An American agent you know,
Mr. Meyers.

Your government hanged him
two years ago.

Are you speaking of Allen Clegg?

Murdoch.

Allen Clegg
called himself The Night?

Murdoch, a word.

Enough lies, Mr. Meyers.

Allen Clegg is alive,
Mr. President.

And I fear he may be the man
who seeks to kill you.

What?

Think of it.

We were sent a message
of enough importance

that the station agent canoed
for miles through the night

to try to get it to us.

You think that message
was meant to warn us

that Clegg himself
is the assassin?

Why has your government
lied to me?

I'm not at liberty
to discuss that, sir.

More importantly, why would
Clegg want to kill you?

Well, we... we have a history.

We met at Harvard.

We were both writing our theses
on the War of 1812.

Clegg was obsessed that America
had lost its opportunity

to claim Canada as its own.

And he still is.

You think it's possible
that Clegg seeks

to start another war
with Canada?

But how would killing me
result in war?

It's not like I was coerced
into coming here.

Not coerced.

Tricked.

Isn't that right, Mr. Meyers.

What can you tell us
about Allen Clegg?

When I was
Secretary of the Navy,

Clegg was a covert operative.

It is believed he planted a bomb
on the hull of the USS Maine.

In Havana harbor?

Yes.

The explosion split
the ship in two.

And the war was declared
against Spain.

If Clegg was a Navy diver...

He's not afraid of water.

He only told us that
to get us on this island.

Which means our sanctuary
is a trap.

Reynolds.

Why won't he answer?

Get down!

Got your answer.

Dear God.

He scuttled the boat.

We'll have to swim for it.

Sir, Agent Clegg
now has the bolograph,

which means he can see us.

Palmer!

Get down, sir!

He's given away his position.

Might have gotten him.

I doubt it.

Sir, we've got to get you
to the mainland.

I'm not leaving this island
without Palmer.

You don't have to.

All we have to do
is get into the water.

The water's freezing.

Precisely my point.

If we lower
our body temperatures,

he won't be able to see us
with the bolograph.

And then?

We fight back.

All right.

Let's move.

Cover him with blankets.
Try to make him comfortable.

What can I do?

Fill this bag with warm rocks
from the fire.

For what reason?

You've hunted waterfowl before.

We're making a decoy.

Right.
After him!

Blood.

Let's track him.

More blood.

We're close.

Sir, be careful.
It could be a trap.

You've been saying that
since dawn broke, Murdoch.

Let's just say I have my own
reasons for being careful.

And that is?

Can you keep a secret?

Murdoch, I'm a spy.

Julia's with child.

That's wonderful, Murdoch.

And, yes, your secret
is safe with... Oh!

Meyers, no!

Get him.

Murdoch, this way!

Sir, wait!

I've lost sight of him.

So have I.

If I put my gun down, you'll
shoot the president and flee.

I can't let you do that.

You shoot him,
and I will shoot you.

I'm surprised at you, Clegg.

How did you not
think this through?

You betrayed me.

You betrayed America.

I'm a patriot!

A patriot!

Unlike all of you pacifists
who refused to see

that America can have
everything it wants.

It just needs a reason
to take it.

Which you are about
to provide, hmm?

I'm gonna kill you both
and then disappear

and let the evidence
speak for itself.

Put the weapon down, Clegg.

There you are.

You son of a gun.

Son...

Quarter inch to the left, and it
would have pierced the aorta.

Be grateful
for a punctured lung.

I'm grateful
for many things, Doctor.

Yes, well,
we can all be grateful.

Ah, yes.

I believe congratulations
are in order.

You told him?

He's a spy.

He can keep a secret.

With my life if necessary.

Thank you.

If it's a boy,
I quite like Julian.

Julian?

After you.

William, I don't want him
to be named after me or you.

I want him to have his own name.

Daniel.

I've always loved
the name Daniel.

Well, then Daniel it shall be.

I suppose Clegg
will hang this time?

After our boys have had
a chat with him.

An extensive chat.

Sir, with regard
to recent events,

I'm of the opinion it serves
both our interests...

That no one find out about this.

You did come to Canada
without permission.

You almost arranged
my assassination.

Shall we call it even, then?

I concur that history
need not record this matter.

But as for your
prime minister...

He need not be apprised, sir.

All right.

Sir, will you not be going
after the Great White Moose?

My misadventure cost
the life of a good man,

very nearly two others.

I've set eyes on the beast.
That will have to be enough.

Thank you for saving my life
yet again.

Always a pleasure.

Driver.

Well, Clegg,
I suppose this is it.

I'll be seeing you
in hell, I'm sure.

Perhaps.

But not before
I publish your novel.

Under the name Guillermo Burgos.