All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S03E09 - Love and Human Remains (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

Bring them here.

I want these on the back
of that thing.

Right away.

What's he up to?

You two.
Get in there.

Hey.
Come on.

Get those bricks
in that pile there.

Lambie!

We're already behind schedule.

What do you think you're doing?

They look like gargoyles, sir.

The contortions of the bodies
would suggest poisoning.

An astute hypothesis, Detective.

Cyanide perhaps?

That would explain
the clenched fists.

What about the color
of their skin?

Stained by the damp earth,
I suspect.

Cyanide is often used
in suicides.

Perhaps they killed themselves.

How did they then
bury themselves, George?

Point taken, sir.

So, murder, then.

Judging by their condition,

I suspect they were killed
within the last two weeks.

Not likely.

There was a shed built over
those piles.

Could someone have cut the
floorboards then, to bury them?

No. Lambie or myself would have
noticed a thing like that.

When was the shed demolished?

We took up the floor
this morning.

So the bodies were buried
before the shed was built.

Any idea
when that might have been?

About five years ago,
as I recollect.

Five years?

So they were lying there in
the ground all of this time,

perfectly preserved.

Five years in the ground

and they've not decomposed.

How is that possible?

They were buried
in sphagnum moss, sir.

Moss?
As in peat moss?

Yes.

Its acidic nature acts
as a sort of preservative.

The watery, airless conditions
prevent organic matter

from decomposing.

I've never heard
of such a thing.

Well, sir, there has been
a recorded case just this year.

A young girl was found in
a peat bog in the Netherlands.

Yes, Murdoch,
I'll take your word for it.

So whoever built this shed
did it to conceal the bodies.

That would be the owner
of the factory --

a James Kirkham.

I've asked George to find him

and determine the nature
of his business.

I did ask him to be quick
about it.

Oh, good. Because with
a five-year-old case,

we wouldn't want the trail
to go cold, would we?

Remarkable.

I'm receiving telegrams

from universities and museums

all but begging for information.

Well, this is a very rare find.

Did you know
that earlier this year,

the body of a mummified woman...

Was discovered
in the Netherlands.

Preserved in a peat bog
just like this.

Yes.

So, what have you learned,
Doctor?

Well, they're a male and female,
obviously.

Both approximately
40 years of age.

And how did you determine that?

Fine wrinkles where the skin
has been folded on itself.

People go gray
at different rates,

but skin breakdown
is fairly uniform.

Of particular interest,

their internal organs
are entirely intact,

as are their stomach contents.

It looks like partially-digested
meat, potato, and onion?

And cyanide.
In both stomachs.

They were definitely poisoned.

Were they husband and wife?

Or brother and sister?

Their similar ages

and the fact that they shared
the same last meal

would suggest they cohabitated.

Yes.

And there is this.

A dental apparatus I found
in the woman's mouth.

Are these teeth human?

I'd guess goat or calf.

Clearly,
the dentist they visited

employed primitive techniques.

Or they could have been
immigrants.

From Eastern Europe perhaps?

Mm.

Well, this is
an excellent start.

Yes, well, I may have saved
the best for last.

It's like it's staring at me,
sir.

Yes, quite realistic, isn't it?

How would one keep it
from falling out?

I mean, imagine how embarrassing
at a lovely romantic dinner

and your glass eye falls
into your soup.

Not this one, George.
This one is very well made.

It would have been custom-fitted
to the man's eye socket.

There appears to be
an identification mark

of some sort.

Something to offer us
some insight, sir?

George, there's
a very attractive young lady

to see you here.

- Georgie!
- Penny.

Oh, my!

Ah, yes, thank you.
That will be all, Higgins.

Georgie,
how wonderful to see you.

The trip was very long and
the railcar had a certain odor,

but it went by very quickly.

And Toronto is much bigger

than I thought
it was going to be.

You look so smart
in your uniform.

Is that a glass eye?

I do believe it's staring at me.

Relative of yours, George?

Yes, sir.

Please allow me
to introduce you to my cousin,

Miss Penny Renton.

Penny,
this is Detective Murdoch.

A pleasure to make
your acquaintance, Miss Renton.

And you, sir.
If you don't mind me saying,

Georgia's always writing home
about you

and your brilliant ideas you
have and the experiments you do

and how he's so much wishing
he'll be like you one day and --

Penny tends to go on
quite a bit, sir.

She came all the way
from Belleville

to attend secretarial school.

Oh, well, in that case,

I wish you all the success
in the world.

Now, if you don't mind,

I have a couple of things
I need to discuss

with Constable Crabtree.

"Constable Crabtree."

Of course.

Sir, about the letters,
she tends to exaggerate.

It's quite all right, George.

I looked into the factory
and its owner.

And I think you'll be
particularly interested

in what they made there.

Very good.

And if you could please find out
all you can

about this glass eye.

Where it was manufactured,
when, and for whom.

Yes, sir.

I will look into it.

All right.
I'm nipping this in the bud.

As I already told
your colleague,

there'll be no photographs
of the bodies released,

nor any details of this case.

Yes, you can call back later
if you wish,

but don't expect to hear
anything differently.

Thank you.
Bye-bye.

Bloody reporters.

That's the third one
I've had sniffing around

for your mummies, Murdoch.

Buried treasure I understand.

But buried bodies?

What's this?

Information on James Kirkham,

the factory owner who built
the shed over the burial site.

It was
an electroplating factory.

Any significance in that?

An electrolyte used in both
gold and silver electroplating

is a cyanide solution.

The poison responsible
for the deaths.

You think the bodies
may have been factory workers?

Apparently, Kirkham was
very hard on his employees.

Check missing-persons reports
from the period.

Already looking into it, sir.

Hmm.

He had quite a violent streak,
this fellow.

Kirkham was arrested twice
for harassment

and three times for assault.

So, he does them in,
up goes the shed,

and no one's the wiser.

Am I really here
to talk about a shed?

Two people were found buried
underneath that shed.

And you think
I had something to do with it?

They died of cyanide poisoning.

You used cyanide
in your factory.

Yes, but I didn't feed it
to anybody.

These people were murdered,
Mr. Kirkham.

And then buried
beneath a shed you built.

Be that as it may,
I didn't murder them.

You owed many people money,
did you not?

Still do.

Did any of them ever come
to your factory to collect?

I'm afraid I can't answer that.

I beg your pardon?

I'm involved in several disputes
of a civil nature.

My lawyer has forbidden me

to discuss any details regarding
my debt obligations.

Are you deliberately evading
my inquiries, Mr. Kirkham?

I'm doing no such thing.

I'm free to talk at length
about my shed.

Two people have been murdered,

and I believe you know
something about it.

You will either tell me --

Sir.

Excuse me.
A word?

I am in the middle
of an interview, George.

Sir, that's why I felt
I had to interrupt you.

What do you mean?

Sir, the glass eye found
in our male body

was made by an ocularist
named Bryan Winston.

Winston stopped manufacturing
glass eyes in 1850.

Almost 50 years ago.

What does that mean?

1850 is the last year
that our male victim

could have been fitted
with the eye.

Now, if he was 18 at the time,

which he would have had
to have been

to be fitted
with a custom glass eye,

and 40 when he died,

then 1872 is the last year
he could have died.

Before the electroplating
factory was even built.

Which would exonerate
Mr. Kirkham.

And those bodies have remained
perfectly preserved

all this time?

Yes, sir.

25 years.

Is this even worth pursuing,
Murdoch?

The culprit is probably dead
by now.

Age isn't amnesty, sir.

Two people have been murdered.

We owe it to the victims

to find out the truth
about their deaths.

If the killer is out there,
I'll find him.

This map, dated 1888, clearly
shows the Kirkham factory.

The X is where the bodies
were found?

That's right.

And this one -- dated 1872...

The last year that we believe

our mystery mummies
could have been killed.

Right.

It was mostly farmland
back then.

But there is a house
approximately 20 yards

from where the bodies
were found.

When was the house torn down?

1880.

Sirs.

Any luck at city records,
Crabtree?

The land and surrounding area
was purchased from city hall

in 1852.

Whoever owned that house

must know something
about those bodies.

Could well be our killer.

George, were you able to find
out who purchased the house?

His name is Horace Mooney.

On the old farm?

Yes.

Well, I wish I knew
how I can help you, Detective,

but I haven't lived there
since I sold the place in...

1879.

That's right.

The bodies have been there
since at least 1872, Mr. Mooney.

And you were living there during
that time, were you not?

I was.

Then perhaps
you can explain to me

how two people came to be buried

less than 20 yards
from your door

without you noticing?

Well, that's a very good
question, Detective,

and I wish I knew the answer.

I believe you do.

And whether you buried them
or murdered them as well --

Murder?

Detective, I didn't kill them.
I didn't bury them.

And I honestly wish
there was something I could do

to help you out.

Perhaps there is.

Do you recognize them,
Mr. Mooney?

How can they still be preserved
like this?

They're mummified.

Do you recognize them?

No.

Someone who went missing
perhaps?

Neighbors?
Farmhands?

No.

So complete strangers
were buried on your property

without your knowledge?

I suppose so.

If that's all...

Yes, Mr. Mooney, that's all.

For now.

What do you make of his reaction
to the bodies?

It's hard to say.

He certainly seemed to study
them with great interest.

Do you think he's their killer?

I don't know.

But I'm convinced he knows more
than he's saying.

But how do I prove it
after 25 years?

I think I might have something
that will cheer you up.

At first, I thought
it was a birthmark

or discoloration from having
been in the ground for so long.

Then I realized...

It's a tattoo.

Military perhaps.

You're right, Julia.

This has cheered me up.

Sir.

Ah, Murdoch.

I've just received a telegram
from The Times in London.

They want to do a featured
article on the mummies.

Word has spread to London, sir?

Can you believe it?

Murdoch, I think these bodies

are considerably more
significant than we thought.

You don't say.

What have you got there?

Our male mummy had some kind of
military tattoo on his arm.

Can you identify it?

You're not going to believe
this, sir,

but the insignia
is of the Caldwell Rangers,

a Canadian regiment that last
fought in the War of 1812.

1812?

Based on Dr. Ogden's estimate
of their ages,

and my assumption that he was
at least 16 years old

when he joined the regiment
in 1812,

the murders had to have occurred
before 1836.

That's 60 years ago.

Which puts Horace Mooney
in the clear.

I was certain he knew something.

Toronto wasn't
much of a city back then.

Less than 10,000 people.

Would have been quiet and safe.

Not this sprawling,

foul-smelling place
we live in today.

This is what our murder site
would have looked like

back in 1836.

It's all fields west of Spadina.

College Street
didn't even exist.

What have you, George?

Sirs, the property
was originally owned

by a Samuel and Mary Blake.

They built the house there
in 1815,

farmed there until 1850

when the land was expropriated
by the city.

For what?

An insane asylum.

But then plans changed,

the asylum was built
on Queen Street,

and the land was auctioned
in 1852.

To Horace Mooney.

Well, that clears things up
somewhat.

Uh, one other thing, sirs.

The Blakes had a child.
A daughter.

Her married name
is Rebecca Hastings.

She's still alive,
and I have her address.

Hello.

Mrs. Hastings?

Mrs. Rebecca Hastings?

Yes, how can I help you?

I'm Detective William Murdoch
of the Toronto Constabulary.

Oh, dear,
has something happened?

Oh, goodness, no.
I didn't mean to alarm you.

I just have some questions
for you.

Of course.

Are these your grandchildren?

Great-grandchildren, actually.

Charlie Hastings.

Detective William Murdoch.

Now, what can we do for you?

Excuse me, ma'am.

Do you teach
at the secretarial --

Pardon me.

Excuse me, ma'am, do you --

Pardon me.
Pardon.

Ah, of course.

Pardon me, ma'am.

Yes.

Is there a problem, Constable?

Yes. Well, no.

I'm here to meet my cousin,
Penny Renton.

She began her first day of class
here today.

She absolutely did not.
Classes begin tomorrow.

Are you quite certain, ma'am?

I dropped Penny here
this morning.

She must have realized
her mistake and left.

Yes, of course.

Good day, ma'am.

Lovely.
Thank you, Mrs. Hastings.

I was hoping to speak to you
about your parents,

Mr. and Mrs. Blake.

Goodness me.
Whatever for?

We recently found two
well-preserved bodies

buried on the property
they once owned.

That's disturbing news.

It appears
the bodies were buried

at a time when your parents
still owned the property.

Around 1836.

I don't know how I can help you.

I'd left the farm by that time.

And how old were you then?

15.

15?

That's rather young to be
off on your own, isn't it?

Oh, I wasn't on my own.

Charlie left with me.

Mr. Hastings, you lived
at the home as well?

Well, I was indentured.

My parents couldn't afford
to keep me

so they sent me
to the Blake farm to work

in exchange
for food and lodging.

Ah, and your parents must not
have taken too kindly

to you being courted
by an indentured servant.

No, they did not.

When we told them
we wanted to marry,

they were very angry.

So we left.

And did you keep in touch
with your parents?

Not very much.

My mother died shortly after
the sale of the property.

My father followed
a couple of years later.

So you have no idea
who the people we found buried

might be?

None at all.

I wonder, would you be willing
to look at the bodies?

Perhaps it could trigger
a memory, however small,

that could help us
identify them.

Well, if it'll help.

Oh, those poor people.

They look frozen in time.

Do you recognize them?

I'm trying to think,

but I can't say that I've ever
seen them before in my life.

Are you absolutely sure?

Yes.

Thank you both for coming.

It's most appreciated.

You don't need to pull on me.
I can walk on my own.

I found her in Allan Gardens.

What?

I can't believe you sent
the police after me.

She was talking
with a young man.

What?

I was merely asking
for directions.

Penny Elizabeth Harriet Renton,
what were you thinking?

You could have been harmed.

- I didn't --
- No, I don't want to hear it.

Do you know, I went to
your secretarial school today

to pick you up, only to find

that your classes don't begin
until tomorrow.

I'm afraid
that in all the excitement,

I mixed up the dates.

And you didn't come
back to the station because...

I was embarrassed.

My first day in the big city
and I get it all wrong.

Georgie,
please don't be mad at me.

Constable.

Are you hungry?

I've got some bread
and some cheese.

I'll get you something warmer
in a little bit.

Sir.

Sir, I found something I believe
you'll find very intriguing.

Yes, George?

Well, I looked
into the Caldwell Rangers

and I found an officers list.

That fellow who used to own
the property -- Samuel Blake --

is on it.

Really?

Sir, it would be my guess
that the buried bodies

are those
of Samuel and Mary Blake.

Very good, George.

Which means we've identified
our mummies.

Rebecca Hastings' parents.

Yes.

But it also means Charlie and
Rebecca Hastings lied to me.

The bodies you saw in the morgue
were those of your parents,

Mrs. Hastings.

There's no way
you couldn't have known that.

They looked so different.

And it's been such a long time.

I simply didn't recognize them.

You told me your parents died
after the sale of the property.

That was in 1850.
You lied to me.

Why?
Did you murder them?

Murder?
No!

Charlie.

Rebecca,
we need to tell him the truth.

You were right.

We didn't leave the farm.

It was my parents who left.

At least that's what we thought

until you showed us
their bodies.

When did they leave?

Around 1836.

They just disappeared.

We never saw them again.

And you never went
to the authorities?

What authorities?

There were no police then
the way there are now.

At least, none that
you could trust at any rate.

We knew something
must have happened to them,

but we never had any idea what.

We impersonated my parents

by forging their signatures
on the sales documents.

We always feared
this day would come.

Are you going to arrest us?

Not for forgery, no.

But I am conducting
a murder investigation.

Oh, sir, according to
the House of Industry records,

Charlie Hastings was not
the only indentured child

living at the Blakes'
when they disappeared.

There were three other children
there.

Really?
Still living?

All of them, sir.

Including one Horace Mooney.

Huh.

Find them and bring them in
for questioning.

Sir.

Sir?

Sir?

Sorry to disturb you, sir,
but you have a telephone call.

Another reporter?

This one's from
The New York Times, sir.

The New York Times.

Put it through.

Right away.

Pardon me.

Excuse me, I received a note
at the university

that I should come down here
at once.

My name is Michael Webster.

No.

Excuse me, ma'am?

Why, it is you.

You little turkey.

No one has called me that...

Alice!

I really don't know what more
I can tell you people,

Constable.

We just have a few more
questions, Mr. Mooney.

Horace?

It's Michael.

And Alice.

Oh, my goodness!

Horace!

It's a strange place for
a reunion, but I'll take it.

Now, what in the world

did they drag us all
down here for?

Mr. Mooney, you say
that you didn't recognize

the bodies of Samuel
and Mary Blake,

yet you lived with them.

I didn't recognize them.

The last time I laid eyes
on them, I was five years old.

And then they left.

Did you not wonder
where they went?

To be honest, not really.

I was glad.

They were horrible.

They just up and left
as I recall.

And you never heard from them
again, Miss Nugent?

No.

And I didn't care one whit.

That was a --
That was a cold thing to say.

They were, for all intents
and purposes, your parents.

My parents died when I was 10.

The Blakes were my keepers.

You felt bitter about having
to work for your food and board?

I was bitter about 18 hours
of farm work a day

and the beatings to top it off.

Beatings?

They were mean, those Blakes.

Never a smile or a kind word
from them.

Yet years later
you bought the house.

Why would you do that if there
were such terrible memories?

Because after
the Blakes disappeared,

there were nothing
but good memories.

Rebecca and Charlie became like
a mother and father to us.

We were family.

Can you tell me anything

about the last time
you saw the Blakes?

My last memory
is hearing old man Blake

take his belt
to Alice's backside.

I didn't deserve it.

He stubbed his toe on a chair

and accused me
of pulling it to the hutch

to steal candy
from the top shelf.

But I didn't.

The next morning,
they were gone.

Who do you think killed them?

I have no idea.

I'm sorry, Detective.

I can't help you with that one.

Don't know.
Don't care.

We were just happy
they were gone.

So, all their stories match.

They have remarkable memories
for old people.

Except for the part about
what happened to the Blakes.

Well, they could be telling
the truth about that, sir.

I mean, I suppose the Blakes
could have enemies

that the children
didn't know about.

I don't think so.

I think Alice, Horace,
and Michael are lying

to protect the Hastings.

Or perhaps they all did
the mean bastards in

to protect each other.

I don't know what's worse
to think about.

These sweet old people
killing the Blakes

or to think of them as young
children doing the same.

Either way, I think
we're finally getting closer

to finding out what happened
in that house

and who was involved.

Off you go, now, ladies.

No loitering.

All of you, let's go.

Good evening.

Hello, again, ma'am.

Constable, you must be here
to meet Miss Renton.

I am.

I have the correct day today,
I hope.

Yes, congratulations, Constable.

However, you do not have
the correct time.

Ma'am, if classes end at 4:30,

I'm nearly a full hour early.

Class is over at 3:30.

Something you might have checked
first.

Well, I'm certain Penny told me
4:30.

Constable, young girls do not
have the capacity to focus.

Their minds wander aimlessly
unless given proper instruction.

Yes, ma'am.

Something I fear
you are not doing.

Ma'am, I'm sorry. She's usually
a very responsible girl.

You must be responsible for her.

You are her guardian,
are you not?

I am, ma'am.

I'll look for her straightaway.
Thank you.

Constable.

Miss Renton went
in that direction.

Ah.

Thanks again, ma'am.

You're too kind.

Oh, I don't think so.

Penny, what in God's name
is going on here?

- George!
- Oh, my gosh.

You get your hands off her.

George, you don't understand.

Oh, I understand.

This randy scoundrel
is trying to take advantage

of an innocent young girl.

- I'm 16.
- Sir, I was only...

Oh, yes, I know what you were
"only," you goat.

I should have you penned up
in the ram's pasture.

You're coming with me.

What are you doing?

This whatever-his-name-is
is under arrest.

For what?

Public indecency.

We're indoors.

The curtains are see-through.

What does that have to do
with anything?

Well, it means
that any member of the public

could witness this indecency.

Now, get a move on.

George Crabtree, you let him go.

Penny, I'm doing this
for your own good.

But Clarence is my true love.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

You arrived for school
two days ago.

You've only just met.

I've known him six months.

You came here to be with a boy?

School was just a ruse?

It was not.
I came to do both.

- Oh!
- Penny, just calm down.

You know, your cousin
has every right to be upset.

Thank you.

Ah, you're not allowed to speak.
No more speaking from you.

George, is everything all right?

Sir, forgive me
for the disturbance.

I was just making an arrest.

Sir, a man just phoned
from the demolition site.

It seems another body's been
discovered at that location.

What?

As if two adults aren't bad
enough, someone dumps a child,

as though it was
a piece of rubbish.

Something's different here, sir.

I don't believe
this body was dumped.

The child is dressed
in baptismal gowns

and wrapped in blankets.

It was buried with love.

If there's love in that grave,
I don't see it.

Perhaps the Blakes had
a second child?

That's unlikely.

Mary Blake had undergone
a crude hysterectomy,

most likely due
to postpartum hemorrhaging

after the birth of Rebecca.

Well, it's no coincidence
that the body was buried

just a few yards away
from the Blakes.

So, whose baby is it?

I believe I know.

That's enough.

This was your child, then?

We named him Martin.

He was just six months old
when he...

He died of congenital
heart failure.

There's nothing
you could have done.

Why did you bury him
like you did?

We were just children ourselves.

Frightened we did
something wrong.

Constable, please escort the
Hastings back to the station.

They're to be charged
with murder.

Oh, no!

No, no, no, no, no.

William, the child died
of natural causes.

And was buried less than 10 feet
away from the Blakes.

That was no coincidence.

So, if they buried the Blakes...

Then they murdered them as well.

Mr. Hastings, you have lied
to me at every turn.

Yes, we buried them,
but we didn't kill them.

We were trying to kill
ourselves.

I don't understand.

Rebecca and I
had fallen in love.

We kept it a secret, but
when Rebecca became pregnant,

we had to tell the Blakes.

Mother and Father were enraged.

They threatened
to have Charlie arrested

on trumped-up charges of theft.

And they wanted Rebecca
to take something

to get rid of the baby.

We would have run away,
but we had nowhere to go.

Rebecca told me to leave,

but I wasn't going to abandon
her to them.

So we saw no way
out of the situation.

Except for suicide.

Yes.

And how were you planning
to do it?

The Blakes used cyanide
on the farm as a pesticide.

I stole some.

We made a draft
with the cyanide,

and put it in
an old laudanum bottle.

Rebecca's parents
had the habit

of taking laudanum every night
to help them sleep.

We planned to use some of
their laudanum in our poison

with a mind of making our deaths
less painful.

We said our goodbyes
and fell asleep.

But in the morning, you awoke.

We -- We had no idea
why it didn't work.

Until we saw my parents.

That's when I realized
I'd made a terrible mistake.

I'd inadvertently switched
the cyanide with the laudanum.

The bottles were identical.

We were so frightened.

We panicked, buried the bodies
in the backyard,

and told the children that
the Blakes just up and left.

If Charlie had accidentally
switched the bottles,

then the Blakes would have
ingested laudanum

as well as cyanide.

Would the laudanum still be
in their bodies?

It would be.

But it isn't.

Just cyanide.

I'm afraid they're lying.

Oh.

And I wanted so much
to believe them.

Yes, it's a shame.

What will happen to
the Hastings? Will they hang?

If you'll please excuse me,
Julia.

There was no laudanum found
in the Blakes' bodies.

You never switched the bottles,
and this was no accident.

But what we've told you is...

The truth?

I think one of you had something
to do with the Blakes' death.

I'm not sure which one.

And perhaps you never even
admitted it to one another.

But don't you think it's time
to set the record straight?

Arrest me.

I will not.

George Crabtree,
you arrest me right now.

For what?

I, too, was undressed and
about to engage in carnal acts!

Penny, you came here

and asked to stay with me
under false pretenses.

We plan to be married, George.
I love him.

Penny, you're 16.
You don't know what love is.

That's practically an adult.

You're behaving like a child.

You're the one who arrested
Clarence for no reason,

just because you're angry.

George, I'm begging you.

- Let him go.
- I can't.

He put you
in a compromising position,

and I have to charge him
accordingly.

But that will go
on his permanent record.

He wants to attend
medical school.

It will destroy his life.

If I go home and promise
not to see him again,

will you please let him go?

What about your schooling?

I'll make other arrangements.
I love him.

I won't let you ruin his life
just because of me.

Please, George.
Let him go.

Either they both did it
or one of them did it.

So charge them both.

We don't have enough evidence,
sir.

And no jury would ever convict
either one of them.

Sweet old couple like that.

Age is no reason for amnesty,
Murdoch.

You said it yourself.

I'm aware of that, sir.

But let's say one of them
did switch the bottles

and the other one is innocent.

That's reasonable doubt.

And if they stick
to their story, well...

So break their story.

Interrogate them separately.

Get one of them to confess.

By what means?

You'll figure it out.

You can solve this, Murdoch.

I know you can.

Thank you, sir.

Sir, that reporter
from The New York Times

is on the line.

He wants to confirm
your interview

at the Rossin House Hotel
at 8:00.

Excellent, good.

An interview, sir?

With a reporter?

He came all the way from
New York to pursue this story.

Which story would that be?

The discovery
of mummified remains

or the subsequent
murder investigation.

Both.

Well, you can't tell one
without the other, can you?

Ah.

So you would like
a satisfactory outcome.

Of course.
Don't you?

The eyes of the world's press
are upon us, Murdoch.

Well, sir, given your distaste
for the press,

perhaps I should take
this interview off your hands.

That's very kind of you,

but I think this case
needs you more.

Excuse me, sirs,

Charlie Hastings
would like to speak with you.

Ah.

I killed the Blakes.

I switched the bottles
on purpose.

I didn't put any laudanum in,

just went in and switched
the two bottles.

I meant to do it.

I wanted them dead.

Are you willing to put
your confession to paper?

Yes.

Just as long as you understand
I did this alone.

Rebecca had nothing to do
with it.

George, can you join me
with a pen and paper?

We need to draw up a confession
for Mr. Hastings.

Uh, sir.

Rebecca Hastings
is asking for you.

I've put her
in the interview room.

I killed my parents.

You did?

I couldn't go along
with the suicide.

I wanted to live with Charlie,
not die with him.

But I knew he would never have
gone along with my new plan.

Which was?

I switched the cyanide
with the laudanum.

I killed my parents.

I see.

So, if they both switched
the bottles,

the second switch would have
canceled out the first one.

So they can't both be telling
the truth.

That means one of them gave
a false confession.

If Rebecca switched the bottles

and Charlie mixed
the two concoctions,

then they would have also gotten
a dose of the cyanide.

They would have died
along with the Blakes.

But if Charlie alone switched
the bottles,

then they live
and the Blakes die.

So Charlie's our man.

Unless what if
they're both lying?

I mean, what if Charlie is
confessing to save Rebecca,

Rebecca is confessing
to save Charlie?

Maybe they're making that
sacrifice for each other.

But if they're both lying...

It means they're both telling
the truth.

About the suicide, that is.

But then the Blakes would have
had laudanum in their stomachs.

Which they didn't.

What if one of the other
children made the switch?

Aw, bloody hell, Crabtree.

We've solved it.
It's Charlie.

What did you say?

I don't know.

What if one of the other
children switched the bottles?

Sir, he has a point.

George,
bring everyone back in here.

Mrs. Hastings, you claim that
you switched the laudanum bottle

unbeknownst to anyone else,

but I believe that you're simply
protecting your husband.

That's not true.

It is.

And I also believe

that Mr. Hastings is doing
the same on your behalf.

He's right.

That leaves the other children
in the household.

All of you had both motive
and opportunity.

The Blakes were so awful

that you can barely speak of it,
Mr. Webster.

Mrs. Nugent,
you suffered a beating

on the evening
that the Blakes died.

Then there's little
Horace Mooney,

who claims to barely remember a
thing because he was only five.

You were the youngest
and also the smallest.

Now, can anyone tell me
on this diagram

where the laudanum bottle
was kept?

Right here in the hutch.

- On the shelf.
- Which shelf?

The middle shelf.

The middle shelf.

Now, Mrs. Nugent,

you suffered a beating
on that fateful evening

because Mr. Blake thought
you had been stealing candy.

Where was the candy kept?

On the top shelf.

The top shelf.

And why was it kept
on the top shelf?

Because I could reach
the others.

You could reach the others.

Including the shelf
where the laudanum was kept?

Yes.

So, in that case,
you didn't need a chair

to reach the laudanum bottle
and switch it.

No.

But there was a chair there
that evening, wasn't there?

Yes.

Was the chair there

when you changed the bottle,
Mr. Hastings?

I don't recall.

No.

If it was,
I would have put it back.

So, what was the chair
doing there?

The only person
who would have needed the chair

to reach the lower shelf
where the laudanum was kept

was little Horace Mooney.

But how could you say that?

That's a ridiculous notion.

He's right.

I don't remember much
about that age,

but I do remember that night.

I overheard Charlie and Rebecca.

They were talking about
going away.

You overheard them
planning their suicide.

They saw how scared I was,
so they told me they were

just taking a magic
disappearing potion

that would make them go away
for a while.

We told him it was similar
to the "happy potion"

the Blakes drank each night.

The laudanum.

Yes.

But you didn't want them
to disappear, did you?

No.

That night,
I stole into their room

with a fresh bottle of
"happy potion" from the cellar,

which I --

Well, I put in place of the --

what I presumed to be
the disappearing potion.

So when I switched the laudanum
with the cyanide,

I was only...

Adding laudanum to laudanum.

I made sure that Charlie
and Rebecca didn't disappear.

But that wasn't enough,
was it, Mr. Mooney?

I was afraid that as long
as the Blakes were around,

Charlie and Rebecca
would try to disappear again.

So you gave the Blakes

Charlie and Rebecca's
disappearing potion.

The one that contained cyanide.

After Charlie left,

you replaced the laudanum bottle
with the disappearing potion.

But to reach it,
you had to drag a chair over.

And that's where you left it.

I was too young to understand
what "disappearing" meant.

The next day,
Charlie and Rebecca told us

that the Blakes had gone.

They were going to be
taking care of us.

I guess the potion worked.

Horace, you kept this secret
all this time?

That must have been a heavy load
for such a young man.

I never gave it much thought.

It was years before I understood
what I'd done.

And I can't say I regret it.

What's going to happen
to Horace, Detective?

Well, we can't very well
convict a man

for misunderstanding
the meaning of a word

when he was five years old,
can we?

No, sir, we can't.

Truly?

You mean I'm free to go?

You are.

You all are.

Sir, it's almost 8:00.

You asked me to remind you.

Bloody hell.

What will I tell
The New York Times now?

That we've solved the case
but not made any arrests?

Well, sir, you could always
dazzle them

with scientific information

about the details
of mummification.

Murdoch, when have you
ever heard me

use a scientific term
in a sentence?

You'll be fine, sir.

Just stick to the facts.

You should get a move on, sir.

How do I look?

Really?

You look very handsome, sir.

- Penny!
- Clarence!

All right, not so fast.

Now, listen, you two.
I know you say you're in love.

We are in love.
In fact --

Uh, I believe you.

I just don't want you to rush
into anything.

So I've written
a list of conditions.

Until you should decide
to get married,

you have to agree to be
chaperoned at all times.

Is that all?

I think that's a sacrifice

that two people who are in love
would be willing to make.

Do you agree?

I do.

I do, too.

Thank you, Georgie.

I'll treat her well, sir.

All right, that's enough now.

This is my workplace.

I wonder how the inspector's
interview is faring.

Very well, I should think.

He's surprisingly sentimental

about romantic stories
like this.

He'll do it justice.

You find this romantic?

Certainly.

Out of adversity grew
a family of sorts.

That's important to you,
isn't it?

Family.

Oh, yes.

My family life was so erratic,

I suppose it made me crave my
own close-knit family someday.

You deserve such happiness.

As do you.

Yes.

If that's what you want.

Is that what you want?

Yes.

Yes, of course.