All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S11E06.21.Murdoch.Street.WEB.x264-RBB

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Thank goodness you're here!

Aaah, yes!

Our supply of victims is running low.

Tell me, Frye,

what is it that makes a man rush
back up a hill he's fallen down

time and time again?

Banerjee, I'm here to play.

Are you gonna let me in or not?

No sense of humour to be found here.

Jarvis! You're out.

- Thanks for helping me, Jarvis.
- Bye, Jarvis.

You've been replaced.

You two ought to have
learned some manners by now.

We are terribly unpopular
this evening, brother.

Cheers, Jarvis.

We'll see you again when
"Papa" sends your allowance.

- Damn darkies.
- Ugh!

At least, we're not here on scholarship.

You know what?

One day, you boys are gonna
get exactly what you deserve.

What did you say?

Do you want the whole school
to hear you? Get back in there!

Best let him go. Come on.

Every time we move, I
think things will change.

They never do.

This is unusual, even for them.

Hello?

- Can I help you?
- Yes, hello.

We were told to speak to a
Detective William Murdoch.

How may I be of assistance?

These are our sons, Vik and Sunil.

They're missing.

When did your sons disappear?

Their correspondence
ceased two weeks ago.

Correspondence?

Do you not live in Toronto?

I am an emissary for the
Raj, posted in Ottawa.

For the duration,

we placed our sons at a boarding school,

- Laird College.
- Laird College?

My wife would give my eyeteeth
to fix our boys a spot up there.

Two weeks missing, and
no one batted an eye.

The headmaster believed we
pulled them out of enrolment.

Is it possible your sons
simply abandoned their studies?

But they have nowhere to go. We have

no connections in this country.

Something is wrong, Detective.

I understand your concern,
Mr. and Mrs. Banerjee.

We'll look into it.

I'll see you out.

When I was in Afghanistan,

I fought alongside some good Indian men.

I have a deep respect for
your part of the Empire.

Perhaps I was one of those men.

- I fought that war as well.
- Ah, it was devilishly hot.

- Oh.
- Sand everywhere.

This withdrawal letter
found its way to my desk.

How was I to know it was a forgery?

Tuesday the 14th.

Aah... Aah!

The same date the parents
stopped receiving correspondence.

It was likely written by the
Banerjee brothers themselves.

- They were troublemakers then?
- Quite.

For 25 years, I've matriculated
both members of Parliament

and your run-of-the-mill degenerates.

The Banerjee brothers were the latter.

Did you not find it suspicious

that they left behind
all of their belongings?

It happens more often than you'd
expect with the sons of diplomats.

Besides, I've been busy
interviewing professors

- for our Department of Literature.
- I see.

Did the brothers associate with any
students that we could interview?

Yeah.

Hello, rabbit.

May I play with him?

Her! No, you can't.

Miss Clark!

Good afternoon.

Well, that's an unusual encumbrance.

I've just procured my
latest test subject.

- Oh, what's the experiment?
- Hormonal therapy.

She is barren, like yourself,

and I hope to synthesize a
medicine that may help her conceive.

A medicine? And you say you're close.

But not successful.

My experiment has reached an impasse.

I will inform you when
I need a human subject.

Perhaps I could assist you.

Frye, Moore, Jarvis.

Front and centre.

This is Detective Murdoch
and Inspector Brackenreid.

They have some questions for you.

Gentlemen, I have business to attend to.

Good day, gentlemen.

Uh, do you recall the last time you saw

the Banerjee brothers?

It has been a while.

Did their absence not alarm you?

What was the nature of your friendship?

We studied together. That's it.

Can you think of any reason
why they may have fled?

We haven't the slightest.

Do you have any knowledge

- of their whereabouts?
- No, sir.

That'd be great, thank you.

What are you doing here?

I've been in since morning.

Yes, but what are you doing here?

I'm a policeman.

You weren't always a policeman.

You simply put on a
uniform and converted

- as it were?
- I suppose.

Fairly young to be withering your
brain over paperwork. In fact,

it's dangerous. How do you
intend to make room for wisdom?

I intend to do my job.

Hmm.

Where does a young man
grow such certainty?

I'm not certain.

I'm just "here" as you call it.

I see. So you are not certain

you want to be a policeman.

- They know something.
- I never said they didn't.

But they won't be telling us.

Sir, I'm certain if we
interviewed them separately,

they would respond to questioning.

You seem to forget what
it was like to be young.

Sir, when I was young,

I was happy to aid the police
as an amateur detective.

Course you did, Murdoch.

John!

A moment?

Are you out of your mind?!

We have more experienced constables!

- Yes, but none that are young enough.
- What is the case?

Two boys have gone missing
from their boarding school,

and none of the students
will speak to us.

And you think they'll talk to me?

Yes, if you're a student.

Murdoch, he's hardly
gotten his feet wet.

I never will if you keep coddling me.

Sir?

Oh, all right.

Hello, everyone. I'm John.

Congratulations.

I need a seat.

Glad to see you found the class.

You lot won't be sitting
on your heels any longer.

I found your new literature professor.

- Headmaster.
- All yours.

Hello, all. I am
Professor Colin Matthews.

Today, we are set to embark

on the most epic of journeys
to the most exotic of locales.

Our destination,

Ancient Egypt.

Oh, very funny.

The brightest of a generation, and
that's the best you've come up with?

Now, the vessel

upon which we are about
to embark on our journey

is a novel by the criminally
underappreciated author

George Crabtree. It is...

Curse of the Pharaohs.

Can we please have something else?

Why? You're not fond of the book?

The opposite. It's great.

Oh, really?

What's your favourite, uh...

What is it that makes it so "great"?

An infertile rabbit is a rare specimen,

but three seems most unlikely.
Wherever did you find them?

An exhaustive search of the local farms.

They were glad to be rid
of their fruitless does.

And the cause of infertility?

Well, their reproductive
organs function,

but they cannot enter a state of heat.

It suggests hormone deficiency.

And you have a medicinal
treatment to address this?

Chasteberry has been used

in folk-infertility remedies
since Ancient Greece.

I aim to extract its medicine,

much the same way as
Aspirin was from willow bark.

What have you tried so far?

Using the coca leaf as model,

I've created a paste of chasteberry,

water and solvent, yet
the paste keeps reacting

to any chemical I add to purify it.

Well, unlike coca leaf,

chasteberry contains sugar.

If we suspend it in alcohol,

we can synthesize the plant's medicine

without the live material interfering.

Yeah. It's worth a fair shot.

Hey, come on!

Gentlemen, could I have
your attention please?

Vik and Sunil Banerjee
are still missing.

If anyone has any information
as to their whereabouts,

you better come see me
at Station House Number 4.

Thank you.

Oy, you there!

I've not seen you before.

You wouldn't be avoiding the
constabulary by any chance, would you?

You haven't seen me because I'm new.

You better start adding a sir
to the end of your sentences.

Sod off, sir.

What did you just say?

Stand up! Come here!

Let's see if you've got the
nerve to repeat yourself now.

Good.

Seems to me like you've
learnt your lesson.

: No way!

Excuse me, gentlemen,

your colleague and I need
to have a little chat!

When I said you could get rowdy,

- I didn't mean punch me in the face.
- It had to look real!

As long as the right people saw it.

Constable Crabtree
doesn't need to be here.

- I have this in hand.
- Oh, is that right?

So what do you know so far?

Not much.

Here, take this.

Maybe it will loosen a few tongues.

- And be careful.
- Huh.

Good punch by the way.

Gerald Jarvis. Proud son of
Gordon Jarvis, the barrister.

John Simpson, son of Thomas
Simpson, the whisky brewer.

You got gumption, punching
that inspector like that.

I don't like to be pushed.

I'm just surprised you're not in jail.

He was satisfied to rough me up.

It's for you.

It took me ages to get my invitation.

What do you mean?

"Be ready in 15 minutes. Bring money."

What is this?

It's an invitation to the real school.

Tell me once more,

how did you fall?

I walked into a door.

No, you didn't. What happened?

- John hit me.
- What?!

Margaret, calm down if
you want to go to dinner.

I have no problem instructing the
driver to turn this carriage around.

Fine.

Go on.

He walloped me in front
of the Laird students

so that they would adopt
him into their group.

Oh, Thomas! Boys of such class

won't stand for such
abhorrent behaviour!

They'll think him a vagrant.

Now, he won't make
any connections there.

You do understand he's
not really a student?

- He's a police officer on duty!
- I know that!

I just hope that perhaps
his time at Laird College

might change his thinking.

You won't let that go, will you?

It's not my decision that he
follows in my footsteps, it's his!

- You could discourage him.
- I have.

It seems that he's as
stubborn as his mother.

Oh!

- Welcome.
- What is this?

Much better than our fathers'
clubs, I can assure you.

No trite conversations over brandy

and no pretending we have influence

over things half a world away.

But we do have cigars.

Cheers.

Hahaha!

Those cards,

- they're from France.
- Then I wanna go to France.

- Where did you get them?
- The Banerjee brothers.

Apparently, their parents
were posted there for a time.

Should have stayed there.

How do I purchase cards from them?

You can't.

They're gone and good riddance.

- What happened to them?
- Disappeared.

Conveniently the same night that
they lost a hideous amount to me.

Quit complaining, I
covered their losses.

Yeah, and you're the house now.

So who's really winning?

If you wanna play, you need money.

I have something even better.

A break from whatever vinegar
you're brewing in the corner.

Your father's whisky!

Capital!

- Stay away from me.
- Get away!

I didn't believe there'd be enough
spores to kill seven Egyptologists.

One, perhaps two. But seven?

Well, Simpson,

that's called taking
"artistic license." Class,

were none of you drawn
in by the... the... the

- rich atmosphere of Ancient Egypt?
- Not really.

But some of the
descriptive passages here:

"The sandy desert

broken only by the mighty Nile."

You know, uh, the Sphinx,

the, uh... Ah, the pyramid!

"The great pyramids,
both triangular and huge."

I've been to Egypt,

unlike you who clearly has
never left the continent.

The only thing of note about Egypt
is that it's unpleasantly hot.

Frye, if you're not careful,

you'll be cynical your whole life.

Who cares? None of this matters.

All right, class.
That's enough for today.

All right, OK.

Meet me tonight.

Forbidden fruit?

Nina. I regret, I'm not in the mood.

Too jaded by the state of today's youth.

What do you mind? You
don't have to teach.

I know it's all a ruse, but if I
could just reach this one student...

If I could just reach
this one teacher...

I mean, his grades were
excellent in the past.

I feel he's just given up on himself.

I know there's passion
in him, he just...

he needs to discover it.

Well, then charm him.

I once had a Star Room customer
who never paid me any attention.

- It's hardly the same.
- Sure it is.

I tried everything to intrigue him.

I even changed my costume,
inspired by his profession.

Nina, I don't know if I want
to hear any more of this.

I assure you the effort was worth it.

The customer was you.

Hmmm...

Well, this is disheartening.

She was the only doe
to receive the chemical.

The medicine appears to be poisonous.

I see.

Not to say I'm giving up.

No, of course not.

Thank you for letting me know.

Well, I should get back to work.

Something on your mind, Julia?

It's nothing.

Just a slow day at the morgue.

Good news for the living.

Ah...

I've just been thinking about

how I rely on my work so much for my

sense of purpose.

The satisfaction of a job well done

is one of life's greatest pleasures.

Is it wrong to want more?

No.

But I've never known you to
be one to wait for change.

You always create it.

Perhaps I've said the wrong thing.

On the contrary.

You said just what needed to be said.

- Nothing.
- What exactly are we looking for?

The Banerjees made a still
from science equipment.

I got the sense that they
spent a lot of time in here.

Is that blood?

Where would that have come from?

John, get a petri dish and some glue.

And I need...

Found them.

Violet phosphorous.

What are you doing?

I am illuminating the invisible.

Violet phosphorous

absorbs visible light

and translates it

into ultraviolet radiation.

At least, I think that's
how the Detective put it.

Get the lights.

If there's blood,

this will reveal it.

So much blood!

May have been the perpetrator
stepped in his own victim's blood.

Seems to lead this way.

Seems to me

a body was brought from over there,

to this wall,

and then dragged back

as far as...

This hasn't been cleaned out in ages.

This top layer is fresh,

but it's the middle of June.

Look at this.

What is that?

Bone.

- Do you know who's responsible?
- Not yet.

We need you to keep this quiet.

- We don't want to tip the murderer.
- You have my word.

The fewer people who know
about this, the better.

Excellent improvisation with
the ultraviolet light, George.

- Just when I think no one is listening.
- Oh, it was nothing, sir.

What have you found?

It's impossible to
determine so far, sir,

until we sift through all of the ashes.

- And the shoe print?
- Sir.

Average size, average
style. Could be anybody's.

Walter Moore.

- I beg your pardon?
- Walter Moore, one of the boys;

- I'm certain he's involved.
- Why?

He's taken over the
Banerjee's gambling business.

"Follow the money," you always say that.

If it is his shoe,

would there still be traces of blood?

There very well could be.
But if you want be sure,

use this.

I have a special assignment
for you today, lads.

It should be a real
treat. Life-changing even.

I would like you each to
write your own obituary.

A rather morbid turn to your lectures.

Not at all, Jarvis. In fact,

it will give you cause to
reflect on the things that

make life worth living.

I mean, we can sit around
reading about heroes all you like,

or you can be the heroes.

The heroes in the
stories of your own lives.

- How would yours read, sir?
- I don't know, Mr. Moore,

I suppose it would go
something like, uh...

"Professor Colin Matthews is
survived by his beautiful wife

and seven children.

A virile gentleman to say the least.

His eulogy was delivered

by his best friend, William

Mmmm... Murphy.

And he died

the author of Canada's
universally praised,

nay, lauded series,

The Secrets of Go Home Lake.

Is that all?

If you imagine greater
things for yourself, Mr. Frye,

I implore you,

get to work.

Class...

Detective Watts, are you occupied?

In terms of police work, no.

- Are those...
- I borrowed these from your desk.

- In the future, I would appreciate it...
- You can't see out of them.

They're meant to see heat.

Eventually. More work is required.

Perhaps you might explain
why heat needs to be seen?

I will, on the way to the storage shed.

- What's the task at hand?
- A messy one, I'm afraid.

The dissection reveals she
was in heat at time of death.

That's very unusual.

But you were successful in
stimulating its hormones.

We should test at a lower dosage.

Even if it is safe for
rabbits it may not be for you.

Well, I'm willing to take the chance.

You would put yourself at risk for what?

The approval of your husband?

It's not for his approval.

William very much wants a child,

and so do I.

Well,

the other rabbits
aren't dead yet, Doctor.

I will inform you when I have results.

Thank you.

What did you find?

These bone and tooth fragments...

but they're too damaged to
yield any information. You?

Well, I found these
curious bits of metal.

One of these teeth

has been hollowed out.

- These must be amalgam fillings.
- Oh.

Then we need to find out
if the boys had fillings.

Oh! Oh!

Detective, has it occurred
to you that we are, uh,

covered in human remains?

Yes, it... it had,
Detective, but I'd hoped to...

- keep it unspoken.
- Mm-hmm.

The new professor is
far too enthusiastic;

it's nearly indecent.

Oh, he's all right.

Say, do you have any
of those postcards left?

Only from my personal collection. Why?

I'll play you for them.

If I lose,

I'll trade you my brand-new
oxfords for your ratty pair.

But if I win, I get your collection.

One draw only. Agreed?

Deal.

So why did you take over
the Banerjee club anyway?

Why do anything?

For fun.

Draw or stay?

Three please.

You must be happy they're gone.
No one seemed to like the brothers.

I had no quarrel with them.

How about the rest?

They didn't like them
because they were brown.

- That's why they moved on.
- "Moved on"?

Left this place. They're cooking up

- their next scheme as we speak.
- They are?

- Draw or stay?
- I'm taking two.

Ready?

Flip.

Nothing.

Four threes.

Can't beat a good player.

- Mr. Frye!
- What now?

May I discuss something with you?

You drew this caricature of me

- in lieu of your obituary assignment.
- _

You chased me to chastise me?

Actually, I came to commend
you. It's quite good.

- I never asked your opinion.
- Also,

I saw some of the drawings you
did for the Laird Chronicle.

- You gave them up.
- They bored me.

Mr. Frye, why are you trying at
great lengths to hide your talents?

What do I need talent for?

Hmm? So I can write the finest waybills

that my father's shipping
business has ever seen?

There's more to life than just work.

- You shouldn't turn your back...
- Just give it a rest, will you?

Professor Abrams never
meddled this much.

Is he ever coming back?

- Where did he go?
- Couldn't tell you.

He never said goodbye.

Vive la France !

I was wrong. There was nothing
on Moore's shoes. Not even dirt.

- I was sure it was him.
- Don't beat yourself up, John.

One piece of advice.

I'm sure Detective Murdoch would
say this as would your father,

"In this line of work,

you're wrong until you're right."

Come on.

You have news, Inspector?

- There was a murder on campus...
- You're not saying...

Let him finish, Padma.

The victim had fillings in the
central incisor and first molar.

Now, I have to ask if either Vik

or Sunil had any such fillings?

No, they didn't.

So where are my sons, Detective?!

Sirs, I don't think the Ba...

Uh...

The... Come here!

We'll be right back.

Excuse us.

- What is it, Crabtree?
- Sirs.

I've been filling a vacancy
in the Literature Department.

We bloody well know that, don't we?

Yes. But why is there a vacancy?

Sirs, look at the last
professor's agenda.

He stopped writing the same
day the boys disappeared.

Not only that, some of
these illicit postcards

the boys have been selling
were in his possession.

- So he was mixed up in their scheme.
- Well, I thought the same.

So I went by his rooming house.
Nobody's seen hide nor hair of him,

but none of his possessions
had been touched.

Sirs, what if the Banerjee
boys were not the murdered?

- What if...
- The professor found out

what they doing and
threatened to expose them?

Is everything all right?

The murder victim may be a teacher.

How terrible.

Your sons may be the killers.

Sir, his dentist was able to confirm it:

Professor Abrams was indeed the victim.

Any idea where the brothers are?

Tell him, John.

Well, Walter Moore said the brothers

were "cooking-up a scheme as we speak."

At the time, I thought it was
a lie to cover up his guilt,

but now I think he knows something.

All right, but we've lost
a lot of time on this case.

- Be swift.
- Sir.

That old bastard.

Who's crossed John Simpson?

The inspector I punched
wants me to investigate

the Banerjee brothers in exchange
for dropping my assault charge.

- They care that much about gambling?
- No.

These friends of yours
murdered a Professor Abrams.

The police are determined to find them.

I don't envy the Banerjees.

Dear God.

I can't believe you ever
associated with them.

Take over for me. I have
something to attend to.

This one is in heat.

Point five percent
is the winning dosage.

It worked! How wonderful!

Will you join me for a
libation to celebrate?!

I do not partake in
the sorrows of drink.

Well, I suppose I'm on my own.

Let me know when you've
synthesized more of the hormone!

Let's put you back.

I followed Moore here.
This is his father's hotel.

I believe we'll find
the Banerjees here, sir.

Let's get them then.

What's wrong?

Should we wait for some more Constables?

Listen to me, son.

You and I are more than capable
of handling this. Come on.

Let's get a move on.

I don't want your money! Just get out!

We can make a better arrangement!

Toronto Constabulary! Open up!

Stop right there if you
know what's good for you!

- John, grab him!
- Simpson?

- It's Constable Brackenreid.
- My son!

I didn't do anything. They
said the police were after them

for gambling. I didn't
know they were murderers!

- We didn't murder Professor Abrams!
- Sunil, be quiet!

His blood on your boot,

it will match the prints
of the murder scene.

You... you have it wrong. We were there,

but we didn't commit the murder.

We witnessed it.

Tell us what happened.

We went to the science lab to
get Frye the money we owed him.

We heard two men come in, so we hid.

There was a fight.

We couldn't help him.

Did you see who it was?

We did not.

You witnessed a murder, but
you never saw a bloody thing?

We were hiding!

Did you hear what they
were arguing about?

No.

It happened so fast
and they never spoke.

What a load of bollocks!

Why did you not simply
report it to the police?

Somehow, we didn't think you'd
believe two Indian brothers

who ran an illegal gambling club.

Maji! Papaji!

Vik! Sunil!

- We didn't do anything, I swear.
- Not another word, Sunil.

You will not speak to our sons
again without our lawyer present.

Lawyer or not,

the evidence is strong
enough without a confession.

You're leaving?

I'm finished here.

You were too sincere
for this place anyway.

And what's your issue
with sincerity, Frye?

I told you,

none of this makes any difference.

I know you think your
father has your whole life

mapped out for you,

but if you turn your
back on your talents now,

if you fail to complete assignments,

- if you fail to graduate, you may never...
- "Fail to graduate"?

- That's rich.
- You don't think I'll give you a failing grade?

It doesn't matter.

There are no consequences
for those who can afford it.

What do you mean by that?

Professor Abrams tried to fail me,

but look, I'm still here.

Where is he?

Sir!

It wasn't them.

Bring him in, George.

Detective.

I'm relieved you caught the
murderers. Laird College can move on.

Shall I write my statement
or is testimony enough?

Perhaps you should be
writing your confession.

I beg your pardon?

You murdered Professor Abrams.

Why would I do that?

To protect Laird graduates
who are now in board rooms,

law firms, even Parliament

whose reputations were
built on your business

of selling flawless
records to the wealthy.

How do you know that?

Mr. Frye's report card,

complete with your signature.

A flawless record.

One of many.

He is an excellent student.

Hardly.

Mr. Frye received this failing grade

from Professor Abrams,

and yet your report doesn't
account for it at all.

Professor Abrams threatened your income,

so you killed him.

- You have no evidence.
- On the contrary.

You left two key pieces
of evidence that night.

- They both saw you.
- Impossible.

They were hiding in the very room.

Well, then they couldn't
have seen me, it was too dark.

If that's what they
told you, they're lying!

You're right. They didn't identify you.

I did.

But how did you know the room was dark?

You realise that
amounts to a confession?

Well...

then there's nothing left to say.

I couldn't agree more.

Thank you, gentlemen.

A policeman, eh?

Not just any policeman.

A published one.

You're George Crabtree?

See? All this time,
you've been in the presence

of one of your favourite authors.

Wouldn't go that far.

Here.

It's my stab at your
obituary assignment.

I drew my life as an illustrator.

Frye, this is excellent.

You know, if Curse of the Lost
Pharaohs ever goes into reprint,

which it is sure to,

perhaps you could draw
some of the scenes for it.

All right. But I don't work for free.

So where are your boys?

Assuring their mother there
will be no more trouble.

- Do you think that's true?
- Haha! I very much doubt that.

You saved my sons;

I'm in your debt.

I had help.

- You must be proud of him.
- Yes, I am.

I'd be a lot prouder of him
if he wasn't a policeman.

He's capable of so much more.

That may be,

but don't forget it's his
path, Inspector Brackenreid.

Let the Empire shape itself.

- Good day, sir.
- Good day.

Take care of yourself.

I think I lost a friend.

You're a policeman now, son;

that's gonna happen quite a lot.

Right then, let's get back to work.

Yes, sir.

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -