All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S03E06 - This One Goes to Eleven (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

Very good.

It's an excellent
likeness of James Pendrick.

Wouldn't you agree, William?

Excellent, yes.

But the building itself is a far
better portrait of the man.

Solid steel,
reinforced concrete skeleton,

gearless traction
electric elevators,

and a full 11 stories.

Julia, could you imagine
anything so grand in Toronto?

William, it's breathtaking.

Oh.
Breathtaking, yes.

No more masonry wall
load transference ratios.

"Bathsheba at Her Bath"

is a true vessel of tragedy,

the most exquisite nude
of Rembrandt's career.

We are indebted to Mrs. Pendrick
for sharing this jewel with us

at this most prestigious
of showings.

Signore Carducci,
é molto gentile.

James and I are delighted

that an art connoisseur
like yourself could join us.

I came to Canada in search
of rising young talent,

but what do I find?

A European masterpiece endowing
its light upon the colonies.

Really, do we have to endure
this asinine twaddle?

Groveling
over long-dead painters?

Such impertinence, such fire.

Art is a living,
breathing organism.

What is this snobbish obsession
with anything ancient?

My dear Burt,

the difference between
the dead masters and you moderns

is that the dead
have better manners.

Oh, William.
It's simply stunning.

You see how Rembrandt
made equal use

of agitated and serene
brushstrokes?

She's beautiful and haunting.

Note the rich
ocher pigment of the robe.

It's rare to see a nude

that portrays a woman
as a whole person.

An astute observation.

Dr. Julia Ogden, is it not?

Why, yes.
Mrs. Pendrick.

Your father talks incessantly
about your accomplishments.

Ah!

Well, not to me.

It's so good of you to join us.

And this gentleman?

Detective William Murdoch,
of the Toronto Constabulary.

I was told they'd send
their finest

to keep an eye on my painting.

It's an honor to guard such
a masterpiece, Mrs. Pendrick.

I take it you're familiar
with Rembrandt's work,

Detective?

To some small extent.

Then you're aware that his model
was Hendrickje Stouffels.

Yes, his mistress of many years,
I believe.

Correct.

Perhaps that's why he was able
to evoke so much compassion

on the canvas.

Such raw intimacy.

Perhaps.

How much longer is this soiree
supposed to last?

About another hour, I think.

Must be some painting

if Pendrick's own security
isn't enough.

A priceless painting of a woman
sans clothing, I'm told.

It seems a shame
to keep it hidden away

up in the Pendrick mansion
where no one else can see it.

Once again,
thank you all for coming.

It has been Mrs. Pendrick's
and my pleasure

to share such a treasure
with you.

Now it's time to put
this fine lady to bed.

Clarkson, thank you.

Here she comes.

It's moving at quite a speed.

State-of-the-art technology.

So Detective Murdoch tells me.

I'm glad it's not me up there.

I get dizzy standing
on a ladder.

I bet you could overcome that,
Higgins.

The idea would be to start
with a diminutive ladder.

Then, each day, progress to a
slightly larger ladder until...

You have an excess of ladders.

She's some fast, all right.

My God.

I think he's dead.

And where's the Rembrandt?

Sir, I don't understand
how it's possible.

The elevator did not stop
moving, I swear.

Paintings,
priceless or otherwise,

don't simply disappear.

Sir, I watched the dial
with my own eyes.

As did I.

In the meantime, George,

as the building search gets
under way...

I'll need statements
from the guests.

Did they see anything
untoward and such.

Thank you, George.

What have you, Doctor?

A small knife wound
below the shoulder blade,

no doubt piercing the heart.

He died instantly?

Within seconds, I should think.

Well, the killer,
or killers most likely,

could have been waiting
on top of the car

and entered and exited
through the hatch.

Nothing up here.

But the opening is far too small

for that painting
to have fit through.

Could it have been cut
from the frame?

Any attempt to fold or roll
a painting as old as a Rembrandt

would destroy it
and render it worthless.

It would have had to have
been taken in its frame.

Dear God, how could this happen?

Poor Clarkson.

I don't understand.
My security was impeccable.

Excuse me, Doctor.

Mr. Pendrick,

Detective William Murdoch
of the Toronto Constabulary.

Detective,
who would do such a thing,

murder an innocent man?

It's clearly the work
of brazen professionals.

However, I can assure you
that they will be caught

and your painting
will be recovered.

I will be needing a list
of all of your staff

as well as the caterers,
musicians, waiters.

Yes, of course.

Whoever orchestrated
such a heinous crime

had to have access
to the building.

As well as
a detailed understanding

of the physical structure

and a schedule
of this evening's activities.

You shall have
everything you need.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I must break the terrible news
to my wife.

Sir?

You're needed
on the third floor.

I think we've discovered
how they made good their escape.

Right, then, Henry, get
photographs and fingermarks.

And collect the rope.

Yeah.

My desk is covered

with telegrams from broadsheets
around the world,

wanting to know
how a masterpiece

disappears into thin air.

It didn't disappear.

A logical explanation
will surface.

These thieves have got
a bloody cheek.

So, why the lift?

The elevator ride
was the only time

the Rembrandt wasn't under
direct police watch.

Makes sense.
Scared of us.

And the guard?
Was he part of it?

Frederick Clarkson.

A family man
with impeccable credentials.

I'm convinced
he was not involved.

So, the motive?
Ransom?

No demands have arrived.

Hmm.

Exactly how much
is this painting worth?

A Rembrandt, signore.

Its value to civilization cannot
be equated in dollars and lire.

Signore Luca Carducci
at your service.

Inspector Thomas Brackenreid.

The pleasure is mine.

Apparently.

I met Signore Carducci
at the unveiling last night.

He represents several
European art galleries

and is renowned
in international art circles.

Ah.
Wonderful.

I've asked him
for his expert advice.

Anything I can do to help secure
Bathsheba's return.

So, in crass monetary terms,

please, Mr. Carducci,
how much is she worth?

A Rembrandt painted in 1654?

$40,000, perhaps more.

So it could be ransomed.

Or sold to some unscrupulous
private collector.

I would think a work of art

as famous and costly
as a Rembrandt

would be difficult to sell.

In this provincial town,

absolutely.

So the thieves would want
to get it out of Toronto.

But how?
A fence?

Not here.

But there are such characters
in the international art world.

Then where would they
try to sell it? Europe?

Possibly,
but more likely New York.

Or Buffalo.

The nouveau riche have
a voracious appetite

for acquisition.

Thank you, Signore Carducci.

You've been very helpful.

You're most welcome,
and good luck, signori.

Bloody arty types.

There is another possibility
here, sir.

Mr. Pendrick could have
orchestrated his own theft.

Insurance fraud.

But why?
The bugger's filthy rich.

Nevertheless,
an avenue we should explore.

Agreed.
"Bathsheba at Her Bath."

A lady's bathing ritual
should not be spied upon.

Mr. Pendrick?

Ah, Detective.

Excuse me, I find I can't stop
thinking about poor Clarkson.

Keeping the mind occupied helps.

Indeed.

What are you working on?

This is a mechanism

that will drive a model
of the solar system,

based on Eisinga's work.

The Dutchman who created
the planetarium.

Yes, in 1781.
It's astonishing.

He calculated the movement
of the planets to an accuracy

within seconds.

Fascinating man.

An amateur astronomer,
wood carver.

Eisinga's model filled
an entire room.

Mine will fit
into the palm of your hand.

It's remarkable.

My wife took me
to a flea circus,

and I thought why not
combine the two ideas --

produce a planetarium
on a minuscule scale.

I myself am fascinated
by the idea that someday,

tiny electrical circuits

will be capable of calculating
vast mathematical algorithms.

Yes, you understand.

Miniaturization is the key
to the future.

Yet you designed
the tallest building in Toronto.

Ah, that thing?

Obsolete before the last rivet
went in.

I'm already working
on new alloys

that are lighter and stronger.

Now, have you any idea
who murdered Clarkson

and made off with the Rembrandt?

It's early stages still.

There is a strong possibility

you'll be receiving
a ransom note.

If one arrives,
I will contact you immediately.

But, surely,
you didn't come all this way

just to ask me the obvious.

No, I didn't.

I take it you had an insurance
policy on the painting?

Ah.
I see.

Of course you have to ask.
I'd expect nothing less.

Yes, the Rembrandt was insured.

I'll need to see that policy.

I'll have it sent along,

though I'm confident
your scientific mind will lead

to the recovery
of the Rembrandt.

Thank you.

One more thing.

Clearly, the Rembrandt would be
a coveted possession.

There was quite a frenzied
bidding process in Vienna.

Do you have any idea
who the other potential buyers

may have been?

That is a question for my wife.
The art world is her domain.

Where might I find
Mrs. Pendrick?

I believe she's by the pool.

Oh, excuse me.

Uh, I'm sorry.

Why, hello, Detective Murdoch.

Perhaps another time
would be better. I'll --

Nonsense.

We are trying to work here.

It's all right, Burt.

Detective Murdoch's
investigation

is far more important
than my portrait.

Rembrandt stolen, world ends.

Mr. Lightman is very passionate
about modern art

and his opinions,
aren't you, Burt?

How can I help you, Detective?

Your husband tells me
your purchase of the Rembrandt

caused quite a stir
in the art world.

My competitors kept pushing
the bidding higher and higher,

certain I'd lose my nerve.

Any idea who these prospective
buyers were?

All the prestigious galleries,
a few well-heeled individuals.

It was quite scandalous for
a woman to secure the painting.

Were any of them disgruntled
enough to steal it?

What a terrible thought.

But I suppose.

I'll need a list of names,
if at all possible.

Yes, of course.

Ice water?

Thank you.

Your comments last night
on Rembrandt's technique

tell me
that you're an art lover.

I was educated by Jesuits.

They used the classics as hooks
to capture our young souls.

However, I'm less familiar
with the moderns.

Oh, well, then, you must
allow me to contribute

to your education.

You must see Burt's work.

Oh.

Mrs. Pendrick, the painting
is not yet finished.

Oh, don't be so precious, Burt.

Detective Murdoch is interested.

What's your first thought?

It's a challenging composition.

I use only primary colors

to better highlight
the dynamic tension

between geometric figures.

Burt's style will light the way
of the future.

Ah, then I'll be sure to pay
closer attention.

The Pendricks
made quite an impression

when they first arrived.

Father says James Pendrick
is brash,

but, then, he never did like new
ideas upsetting his world order.

Mr. Pendrick is something
of a revolutionary thinker.

So you and he
are quite like-minded.

His wife seems refreshingly
modern, don't you think?

Yes. Quite modern.

Has your postmortem
determined anything?

Indeed.

As I suspected, the victim died

from a single stab wound
to the heart.

But here's what's interesting.

The guard's right ankle
was broken.

That's strange.

I watched him walk
into the elevator.

There was no evidence of injury.

Agreed.

And yet it is broken.

So, how could he break an ankle
inside an elevator?

Could it have fallen?

The elevator didn't fall...

...but the guard did.

Sir, how did he fall
in an elevator?

He didn't fall in the elevator,
George.

He fell into the elevator.

Thank you.

I'm not sure I'm following you,
sir.

There were two elevator cars.

Two elevator cars?

You see? Here.

These are screw holes.

A second, false car was built
on top of this one.

So the guard and the painting
enter the false car.

And as the elevator
makes its way down,

the thieves,
stationed in the car below,

open the hatch.

The guard falls into the car

and in doing so,
breaks his ankle.

The thieves murder him

and climb up into the false car.

The dead guard
then continues his journey

down to the first floor.

So, Constable Higgins and I
discover him

in the real elevator car.

Everyone assumes
the crime occurred there.

And while we're busying
ourselves searching down below,

the thieves and the painting
got out here.

On the second floor.

I think I can take it
from there, sir.

They thieves then dismantle
the false elevator car,

stash the materials
somewhere nearby,

and make their way
up to the third floor

where they escape
down the rope.

No, George, the rope was a ruse.

The thieves wanted us to think

they escaped
from the third floor

so we would focus
our search there.

Why that?

How did they get the painting
out of a building

surrounded by policemen?

Well, I don't imagine
they could, sir.

Precisely, meaning they didn't
leave the building immediately.

They laid low.

They stayed right here
under our noses

until the commotion passed.

Yes. And once we had left and
the building was unguarded...

They slip off into the night.

That's a nervy pair of thieves,
sir.

Yes, with an ingenious plan.

And I think we've found
their hiding place, George.

Have you your skeleton key?

The remains
of the false elevator.

So, the thieves removed
the painting from its frame,

keeping it mounted
on the stretcher,

waited for the coast to clear,
and made good their getaway.

I agree with part
of your theory, sir.

Oh, just which part of it
don't you agree with?

The getaway part, actually.

Point taken, George.

Sir, if the thieves are dead,
then who has the painting?

Both thieves died in
the same extraordinary manner.

A sharp, thin object
pierced the right eardrum,

entering the soft tissue
of the brain.

They died
of cerebral hemorrhage.

Murder weapon?

I'll have to examine both brains
to get an exact description.

Thank you.
That would be most helpful.

Time of death?

I'd estimate they died in the
early hours of the morning.

Between 3:00 and 4:00 a.m.

Any defensive wounds?

None.

So, either the killer managed to
surprise two ruthless thieves...

Or they let their guard down.

But why would they do that?

Sir?
Do you have a moment?

Yes, of course, George.

I'm just inspecting
the dead thieves' clothing.

Sir, we followed up on the rope
used in the getaway.

It's commonly obtained.

No merchants recall selling
a length of it

to anyone matching
the thieves' description.

Fingermarks?

Sorry, sir.
I guess they used gloves.

That's unfortunate.

Thank you.

Sir, I can't stop thinking.

What a terrible way to die.

I mean, to have a sharp object
plunged into your ear canal.

Indeed.

I mean,
I see the killer's logic.

He needed to access the brain

without interceding bone matter,
didn't he?

Still, the ear seems such
a delicate part of the body.

Yes, it does.

He could have gone
up through the nose, I suppose.

But that wouldn't be
much better, would it?

And then there's the eye socket.

That would be worse again,
really, sir.

You would see the weapon
sort of coming towards you.

Yes. Thank you, George.
That's quite enough.

Oh, forgive me, sir.
Terrible business.

George, did you speak
with the catering company?

I did. They reported
no uniforms missing.

Then, how did the thieves
obtain these?

I suppose they had them sewn up.

The catering company's uniforms

were manufactured here
in Toronto, were they not?

Yes, sir.

Goldberg Tailors on Spadina.
Have you found something?

Yes, George.

I believe the art thieves were
from Chicago.

Jonah Watson and Cyril Hughes.

Professional thieves,
both wanted in Chicago

for the armed robbery
of several banks.

Dangerous characters

but someone managed to kill
the pair of them.

I believe they were murdered

when they were handing
the painting over

to whomever hired them.

The partner who supplied them
with all the inside information

that allowed them
to commit the robbery.

Exactly.
The mastermind behind the theft.

And then the mastermind
double-crosses them.

Tying up all loose ends.

Come in.

Pendrick still hasn't received
a note.

I think we can safely
rule out ransom.

So, where did the painting go?

No doubt on its way
to some private collector.

Actually, sirs, it might be

that your earlier instincts
were correct.

I've already told you
I had the Rembrandt insured.

But you didn't mention
you increased the policy

to $200,000.

The painting's value
is 1/5 of that.

Do you see this Goya, Detective?

I paid $300 for it
five years ago.

What do you wager
it's worth today?

I suspect its value
has increased somewhat.

Tenfold.

I've had offers of 3,000
and more, but I like this one.

It relaxes me.

And I'm told
it matches the room.

You insure art for what some
fool is willing to pay for it,

not for what it's worth
in the moment.

Is that what your art collection
is to you, Mr. Pendrick,

an investment?

I'm afraid
it doesn't captivate my mind

the way it does my wife's.

A shame, really.

Common interests
solidify a marriage.

And what woman do you know

has the least interest
in steel and concrete?

At any rate, the value
of the Rembrandt is moot

since I'm sure
you will recover it.

Is there anything else,
Detective?

Yes.

I'm wondering if you know
where Mr. Carducci is?

Carducci.

I can't be sure,

though I understand he takes
an interest

in young male painters.

Try Burt Lightman's studio.

I believe it's on the Esplanade.

Detective Murdoch,

what a pleasant surprise.

Good day, Mrs. Pendrick.

I see you're taking
your interest in the moderns

seriously.

Actually, I'm here to see
Signore Carducci.

I believe he's monopolizing
my favorite painter.

Signore Carducci,
you are much in demand.

Ah, Detective Murdoch.

Have you brought us good news
about our lovely Bathsheba?

They're welcome
to that old relic.

My dear Burt,

someday you will be
the old master

to our great-grandchildren.

You're too kind.

Signora Pendrick is right.

This gentleman will soon be
the talk of all Europe.

Are you leaving us, Burt?

I'm going to Paris.

Signore Carducci
will introduce me

in all the right circles.

How marvelous.

So, how can I be of assistance,
Detective?

Mrs. Pendrick gave us
a list of the buyers

who coveted the Rembrandt.

Thinking if they
could not purchase it,

they would have it
by whatever means necessary.

Precisely.

However,
we have cleared most of them.

But I was hoping you might have
some additional thoughts,

given your vast experience
in the art world.

It sounds like you are --
How do you say it?

Grasping the straw?

Yes, I'll admit I seem to be
quickly running out of options.

I can certainly prepare a list
for you,

but I fear the Rembrandt
already hangs elsewhere.

Well, thank you for your time,
Signore Carducci.

Of course.

Do you like my portrait?

I'll admit a certain fascination

with Mr. Lightman's style.

Well, then.

It's yours.

Just what is that?

A Burtrand Lightman.

It's a very brave choice, sir.

I must say, there is something
strangely beguiling

about this new
nonrepresentational form.

Well, it's not something
I would have chosen.

We should put it up.

Oh, no, George,
that won't be necessary.

Oh, but, sir, it demands it.

Better lighting over here.

Do you really want to stare
at that, Murdoch?

Well, it does have merit, sir.

A step into the art
of the future.

Art of the future?

My lad could do better
than that, and he's 7.

Anyway, it looks upside down.

I beg to differ, sir.

This triangle should be pointing
upwards, like a pyramid.

It is the pyramids, right, sir?

What do you think, Murdoch?

Do you know what the painting
is about?

The moderns believe
interpretation lies

in the eye of the beholder.

And just what is
your interpretation?

It's a pyramid.

Detective, you're needed.

It's right up here, sir.

Burt Lightman, the artist.

The cause of death
appears the same as the robbers.

Why on earth would someone want
to murder a struggling artist?

It would appear there's no honor
amongst thieves.

There's no question.

Lightman was killed
by the same weapon

used to murder the two thieves.

You're quite sure?

The shape of the weapon
is quite distinctive.

Same weapon, eh?

Sounds like another loose end
being tied up to me.

Suggesting Mr. Lightman was part
of the theft as well.

But what role does
a modern artist play

in the theft of an old master?

Lightman despised
the old masters.

Exactly, Doctor.

He's more likely to burn it
in an act of public art protest

than profit from it.

Perhaps.

Or perhaps the man did protest
too much.

Sir, some of Lightman's work.

Before his geometric phase,
I presume.

It seems he was quite talented
in the classical sense.

Classical.

I use only primary colors.

Berries and leaves.
Why that?

A vegetarian, perhaps?

Perhaps.

George, pack all of these up,
along with the sketches.

Yes, sir.

What have you
got there, Murdoch?

Pigments, sir.

Used in making paint.

I know what pigments are.

What do they have to do
with this case?

Mr. Lightman went to
a great deal of trouble

to create these pigments.

Perhaps he wanted special colors
for his special paintings.

Yes, but Lightman only painted
in primary colors.

No ocher.
Hmm.

Well, I admit
that is interesting.

Yes, and what's
more interesting,

this ocher color is derived
from buckthorn berries,

commonly used
by the old masters,

particularly Rembrandt.

Why did Lightman want to make
the same pigments as Rembrandt?

Unless he wanted to paint
like him.

You are correct, Detective.

This is the exact shade of ocher
Rembrandt used.

Why do you ask?

I believe Lightman was either
about to or had painted

a forgery
of "Bathsheba at Her Bath."

That is ridiculous.

To copy a Rembrandt
requires skills

Signore Lightman
did not possess.

I believe he did.

We found sketches
in Mr. Lightman's studio.

Clearly, Mr. Lightman
was classically trained.

So, let us say Burtrand
did paint a forgery.

What use is a worthless copy
to the thieves

when they have
the priceless original?

What if the theft
of the Rembrandt was staged

in order to sell
an unsuspecting buyer a forgery?

But any buyer would expect
such a well-known painting

to be a forgery.

Even if the Rembrandt
had been stolen

in a sensational robbery?

Ah, I see.

Then the buyer could conceive

they were purchasing
the original.

But what if the new owner
discovers the truth?

That's the beauty of the plan,
isn't it?

The buyer has no recourse.

He has knowingly bought
stolen property

and therefore cannot report it
to the authorities.

Incredibile.

It is brilliant
in its conception.

So, a viable scenario, then?

Indeed.

Good.

Now all I have to do
is prove it.

There must be some mistake.

Perhaps Burt
stumbled on something

and was murdered as a result.

I'm afraid the evidence points
to only one conclusion,

Mrs. Pendrick.

I can't believe he was involved.

How could he betray me
like this?

He was a frequent guest
in my house.

Do you recall him paying much
attention to the Rembrandt

when he visited?

He was always free
to study my collection.

Could he have had time enough
to forge it?

I don't see how.

The Rembrandt was on loan
to a gallery in New York

for most of the past year.

It returned home shortly before
the exhibition in Toronto.

I see.

Thank you for your time.

I'll see myself out.

Such a waste.

Though we have his work
to remember him by.

Yes.

Who knows how much my portrait
might be worth

in a couple of years, Detective?

I do hope you're enjoying it.

It hangs in my office.

I can think
of no higher compliment.

Ah, hello, Julia.

William, there you are.

I have news
of the murder weapon.

By mapping a cross section
of the victims' brains,

I've ascertained the weapon

to be an eighth of an inch
in diameter

and approximately
five inches long.

Very unusual.

Perhaps something like
a woodworking awl.

A rather specialized murder
weapon, don't you think?

Both efficient and precise

when thrust into the ear
of the victim.

Indeed.

Thank you.

My pleasure.

This painting --

Yes, it's a Burtrand Lightman.

I see.

Well, it's truly shocking.

What makes you say that?

I believe we're looking
at a woman

in a rather intimate pose.

Really?

I'd concluded
it was a landscape.

A landscape?

Perhaps something inspired

by the stark beauty
of the Canadian Shield,

which is very stark.

William, look again.

Surely, the red triangle...

Pyramid.

A pyramid?

On the Canadian Shield?

William, don't be obtuse.

It's the torso of a woman.

Sir, I have that information
you wanted.

Ah.
I must be getting back.

I'll leave you to enjoy
your landscape.

George, what did you find out
about Mr. Lightman?

Well, sir, as you know,

the Rembrandt spent eight months
of last year in New York.

Funnily enough,
so did Burtrand Lightman.

Did he, now?

He secured a position

at the very gallery that was
displaying the Rembrandt.

Really?

Night watchman.

So Mr. Lightman goes to
New York, paints the forgery.

Our mastermind
already has lined up a buyer.

The grand theft
is staged in Toronto.

And once the forgery is painted

and Mr. Lightman is no longer
needed by the mastermind,

he's killed.

But then, sir, if Lightman
created the forgery in New York,

why are the supplies to make
the pigments here in Toronto?

A very good question, George.

Oh, well, then, also, another
point that remains unclear to me

is how did the mastermind plan
on getting the painting

out of Toronto to the buyer?

Are you leaving us, Burt?

I'm going to Paris.

How marvelous.

George, I'll need you to pay
a visit to the docks.

You found no baggage listed
under Burtrand Lightman's name?

There was nothing
in the manifest, sir.

Lightman would have transported
the forgeries with him to Paris.

I'm certain of it.

Well, sir, perhaps the painting
was to go on a later passage.

No, he wouldn't risk
it being lost in transit.

We're missing something here.

Sir, by all means,
have a look for yourself.

His name is not on the manifest,
sir.

No, but we should see what Miss
Hendrickje Stouffels is shipping

more than two centuries
after her death.

Hendrickje who?

Hendrickje Stouffels.

Rembrandt's mistress and model
of many years.

Oh, so, now we're
an art historian, are we?

The Bathsheba.

An excellent copy.

Sir.

It appears she has
a twin sister.

The lad's been a busy boy.

These are quite remarkable.

Mr. Lightman
certainly was brazen.

Why sell one forgery
when you can move... five?

Four, George.

Four, sir?

Murdoch, there are five.

Yes, but only four are copies.

I believe this one
is the original Rembrandt.

Are you sure
this is the original?

Because they all look alike
to me.

Many painters have
a signature technique.

Rembrandt used a single layer
of coarsely sieved quartz

as a canvas primer.

I've examined the medium used
on this canvas,

and it is indeed quartz.

Proving what?

This is Canada, Murdoch.

You can't go anywhere without
tripping over bloody quartz.

Ah, not this type.

However, it is commonly found
in Holland.

There's no question.
This is the Rembrandt.

Think of it, sir.

We are standing here
just as he did,

assessing his masterpiece to
pronounce it done and perfect.

Sir?

Thousands of dollars

for some bare-assed floozy
having her feet washed.

How did Lightman get his hands
on it?

He had unfettered access
to the Pendrick collection.

I believe he switched
the original

for a forgery he made
in New York

on one such occasion.

So, the painting exhibited
at the Pendrick Building,

stolen by the thieves,
was a forgery.

So it would seem.

Sneaky little sod.

Do you think Lightman took it
to sell himself?

Perhaps.

But he didn't account
for the treachery

of his partner in crime.

Who killed him

before he realized
Lightman had the original.

Exactly.

So, who's behind it all,
Murdoch?

For the swindle to work,
the buyers must believe

that they are purchasing
the original.

So the original can't resurface

until the forgeries
have been delivered.

Correct.

I believe it's time
for Bathsheba

to return to her rightful owner.

You have exceeded
my expectations, Detective.

My wife will be delighted to see
the Rembrandt

within these walls again.

Before you speak to her,

I've invited Signore Carducci
to authenticate the painting.

A mere formality.

Detective, no one can replicate
the master.

Agreed, but I would feel more
assured we have the original

if you would take a closer look.

I cannot believe the audacity.

Is something wrong?

This is a forgery.

An excellent one, but...

Are you absolutely sure?

Look at the eyes --

the window
to Bathsheba's soul --

the forger cannot capture
Rembrandt's depth of emotion.

But I don't understand.

This -- This is surely
as great a crime --

to have her back once more
only to see her taken away.

I'm terribly sorry to have
raised your hopes, sir.

It is very late.
I have a pressing engagement.

Good evening, gentlemen.

That's all right, Detective.

If it weren't
for Signore Carducci,

I, too, would have judged this
the original.

Interesting you should say that.

Please excuse me.

There is a matter
I must attend to.

Yes, of course.

Mannaggia!

So that's where you hid it.

Detective.

- I, uh...
- You what?

Can explain?

I doubt that very much,
Mr. Carducci.

I just watched you declare
the real Rembrandt a forgery.

There was only one reason
to do that --

to maintain the swindle
you'd orchestrated.

I admit nothing.

Except perhaps going to
a great deal of trouble

to steal a worthless fake.

Burt Lightman exchanged
the Rembrandt

for one of his forgeries

while it was still
in the Pendrick home.

That treacherous little bastard.

Thinking he had done his part
in your scheme,

you killed him,

just like the other accomplices.

You, sir, are a thief
and a murderer.

But to orchestrate this,
you had help.

Where did you get the inside
information you needed --

the building plans,
the movement of the painting?

Someone else had a hand in this.

Who was it?

Who are you working for?

As you already know, Detective,

I am a professional
who abhors loose ends.

A rather clever design,
don't you think?

Carducci used this to kill
the two thieves and Lightman.

And almost you as well, sir.

Thank goodness Mr. Pendrick
arrived when he did.

Yes, quite impeccable timing
on his part.

What do you mean?

There are pieces of this puzzle
Carducci took to the grave.

Like what?

How did he know the
exact movements of the painting?

How did he orchestrate
a complex theft

without detailed
inside information?

His hired guns
were disguised as caterers.

He had access to the building
days in advance.

But consider this.

Once the forgeries are delivered
and the money is collected,

the original
mysteriously reappears,

only one man benefits.

Pendrick.

He would have his money
and his original,

and no one would suspect him.

You've caught the killer,
found the Rembrandt.

You prevented one of the biggest
art frauds in history.

Excellent point, Doctor.

Isn't that enough for you,
Murdoch?

We will miss her.

But after such a dreadful
turn of events,

I couldn't bear to have the
painting in the house anymore.

I persuaded James to donate her
to the Louvre.

That's very philanthropic
of you.

But you will be needing
a replacement, Mrs. Pendrick.

Might I suggest
your Burt Lightman portrait?

Really?

You would part with it?

It would offer
a refreshing modern perspective

to your collection.

Well, that's very observant
of you, Detective.

I accept your offer,

but I trust you will come
and visit it from time to time.

It would be my pleasure.

Detective Murdoch.

Congratulations.

Things couldn't have
turned out better.

Mr. Pendrick, I believe
some of the credit goes to you.

I would not be here today

were it not
for your timely intervention.

Pure luck, I assure you.

Tell me, what brought you
to the building last night?

Oh, I often go up there to look
at the night sky.

Really?

Well, what is the point

of owning the tallest building
in Toronto

if you don't avail yourself
of its advantages?

And the gun?

Well, I never venture out
at night without a firearm.

Detective, you seem unsettled.

In an odd way, Signore Carducci
and I are very similar.

We both dislike loose ends.

Loose ends?

With Signore Carducci dead,

we'll never be able to ascertain
the identity of his employer --

the true mastermind
behind this crime.

And what makes you think
he wasn't the true mastermind?

It's a theory, for now.

Mrs. Pendrick.

Mr. Pendrick.

I bid you good day.

Good day, Detective Murdoch.

I trust our paths
will cross again.

I will look forward to that.