All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries S18E01

(birds chirping)

(explosions)

(epic music)

- Fire!
(gunshots)

(groans)

- Fire!
(gunshots)

- Fire!

- Halt!

(indistinct)
Ready!

- To arms!
- Take aim!

- Fire!
- Fire!

(men screaming)

(man whistling)

- It hardly seems sporting,
does it, sir?

- What's that?
- Attacking from behind!

- Guerrilla warfare.

The Americans used it
to defeat the British

during the Revolutionary War.

(whistle blowing)
(shouting indistinctly)

- Okay! Enough!
- Break, break it up!

- Still, though,
I am enjoying myself.

Thank you for the invitation,
George.

- Well, sir, I knew since
Dr. Ogden and Susannah left,

you'd be at loose ends.

- Well, things have been

a bit dull, yes.
(whistle blowing)

- You must miss them
dearly, sir.

- Oh...
(man): Help! Help!

(suspenseful music)

- Good heavens.

Seems this war
has claimed another victim.

- Only a hundred years too late.

(theme music)

- Well, it clearly
seems intentional.

- I was assured that all
of these blades had been dulled.

- Well, they were.
But... the Americans.

Who can ever really trust them?

- You-you believe they would
kill one of their own?

- They fought a war
against each other.

I wouldn't put it past them.

You seem familiar.
Do I know you?

- I don't think so.

- Strange. I'm sure--

- George, let's move
his body to somewhere

where we can properly
examine him.

- Sir. Uh, you there,
would you mind taking his legs?

Careful not to drop him.

- I doubt that matters now.

(indistinct chatter)

- What's that all about?

- Why are you asking me?
I don't know anything.

- Suppose that's not
much of a surprise.

- You're putting me in charge?

- Don't get ahead
of yourself, Watts.

It's just while Murdoch's away.

Are you up to the task?
- Sure.

- Well, I'm only
a phone call away.

Right, I must be off.

I have an appointment
with Crown Attorney Crabtree.

- Oh, the trial?
- Yes.

It's still weeks away,
but best to be prepared.

You need to get all your apples
in one cart

if you're trying to convict
a city councillor.

- Oh, it seems open and shut.

- Those are the ones that
can surprise you.

- Right.

I trust you to steer the ship.

- With steady hand.

Oh, and, Chief Constable,

I must say you look much younger
without the moustache.

- Ha! New job, new look.

Oh, and, uh, Margaret
can't get enough of me.

I should've took it off
years ago.

(chuckling)

So what's the story
with the plants?

- Horticulture.
It's a new interest of mine.

- Well, you know
what they say about that.

You can bring a hor to culture--
- Ah, I've heard.

- Oh.

Right, then, you lot, listen in.

Until further notice,

acting Inspector Watts
will be in charge.

Carry on.

- Mm.

- Your orders, sir?

- Uh, just...
do what you do best.

- Rummy? Penny a point?

- Not for me, thank you.

- What can you tell me,
Mr. Byron?

- So I drew the short straw.

Everyone else got to play-act
as a soldier.

I got to be a medic.

- Do you have training?
- Some.

I assist a veterinarian
back home.

- Well, whoever stabbed this man
knew what they were doing.

A single blow directly
to the heart.

- Could he have just been lucky?
- Perhaps.

But I don't believe
that to be the case.

Did you know this man?

- Jacob Diamont, an American
from Amherst, New York.

But I don't know
much more than that.

He was a neophyte participant.

- Sir.

- What have you, George?
- A suspect, sir.

A man by the name of
Samuel Baker was seen arguing,

quite violently apparently,
with our victim last night.

- Samuel. I doubt that.

He injured his ankle,
just before nightfall.

I treated him in here.
- His ankle, you say?

- It was badly sprained.
I gave him a healthy dose
of laudanum for the pain.

I very much doubt
that he returned to battle.

Detective, when can we
resume our activities?

We are all quite anxious.

We haven't even got
to the stage

where General Brock is killed

and the tide turns
in our favour.

(clears throat)

- Uh, George, please send word

to Chief Constable Brackenreid

that our return will be delayed.

- Sir.

- Look at these cards.

(laughing)

(snoring)
Oh, best out of ten.

- Constable.

Higgins.
(snoring)

Henry!
- I'm sorry, Ruth.

- What are you doing?

- Just what you suggested.

- Sleeping on the job?

- I'm not getting
much sleep at home, sir.

Ruthie's in one of her moods.

- And that is?
- Ah, well...

She can be rather, uh...
insatiable at times.

- There is no particular reason
to reveal that information.

- You asked.

- Get Tucker and do the rounds
on Parliament Street.

- Uh, Tucker, sir.
Can I take someone else?

- No. Take Tucker.

- But I don't like him.

- Well, then, this might be a
chance for you two to get along.

Constable Tucker.
- Yes.

- Accompany Henry on his rounds.

- Henry?

- You heard me.

(coins clinking)

(indistinct chatter)

- Excuse me.
Where might I find Samuel Baker?

(man): Well, you can have one.
Just make sure you give it back.

(indistinct chatter)

(snoring)

Oi.

- What?

- Are you Samuel Baker?

- Who's asking?

- Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

(groans)

- I didn't do it.

- Didn't do what?

- Whatever you think I did.

- Were you involved in a fight

with an American
named Diamont last night?

(chuckling)
- Sure was.

He started it.

Why?

He put you on to me, did he?

- He is dead, sir.

- What?

- He was killed
on the battlefield today.

- I wasn't even on
the battlefield.

Been out like a light since I,
since I saw that quack.

Gave me enough laudanum
to down a horse.

Ask anyone.

I haven't moved from here
since last night.

(sighing)

- Never cared much
for that Watts.

Chief Constable
should've put you in charge.

You're more trustworthy.
- Is that so?

- I've heard some disquieting
rumours about Detective Watts.

It's clear the man has secrets.

- I have a feeling, Tucker,
that he's not the only one.

- You got something
to say, say it.

If not, shut your cakehole.

Let me walk in peace.

(indistinct chatter)

- Excuse me.

(speaking Native
language)

- Who are you?

- Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

This is Constable
George Crabtree.

We'd like to ask you
some questions.

- If this is about the dead man,
we had nothing to do with it.

We were on the opposite flank.

- That's true, sir.
I saw them.

- This is the first time
these people have acknowledged

that the "Kanyen'kehà:ka",
the Mohawk,

fought to defend
what is now Canada.

I have no intention
of causing trouble.

- Of course.

- The rest of your gang
are all white chaps.

- The organizers would only
allow one Haudenosaunee...

Indian... to attend.

Look at their clothing.

It is a disgrace.

- Thank you for
your service to Canada.

- Huh.

- You should talk
to the American troops.

- Who might you be?
- No matter.

But the man was stabbed
in the back.

It would suggest by one of his
own, not one of these people.

- He may have been retreating.

- Good point.
I hadn't considered.

- What's your interest
in the matter, sir?

- Nothing.

I'd just like to get back
to the reenactment,

as would everyone else here.

(tense music)

- George, I'd also like a word

with the man dressed
as Isaac Brock, up on the hill.

- I don't see anybody, sir.

(sighing)

- Adjusting to your new
position, Watts?

- Mm.
The plants like the light.

- Then you should be relieved.

You're going to be here
a while longer.

- Are you off somewhere?

- There's been a murder at the
Battle of Queenston Heights.

- At the play-acting war.
- Mm.

An American killed
on Canadian soil.

Things could get messy.
- Mm.

- Where is everyone?
- On rounds.

- Even Higgins?
- Mm-hmm.

- I'd rather not see an officer
in my constabulary

reading this scurrilous
piece of work.

- Of course.

I will try and remain
immune to new ideas.

- Carry on, Watts.

(clears throat)

- Oh, for Pete's sake!

Oh! I knew it!

I knew it!

I knew I should have brought
my own pillow.

It just didn't seem...
soldierly.

- No, I don't suppose
it would be.

- So much for a break
from work, sir.

(sighing)

- That doesn't seem
to be our lot, George.

- Sir, it seems
everywhere we go,

there's murder and mayhem.

No matter where we go,
what we do,

no matter how purely
intentioned.

Malice.

Death.

It's as if we were born
under a bad sign.

Or under a hex, sir.

It's like we were hexed
by the Devil himself.

- I think the world
is just more violent

than we would like it to be.

(suspenseful music)

George.

- Perhaps he's just relieving
himself, sir.

- I don't think so.

He's heading toward
the medical tent.

- And Diamont's body.
- Right.

George, you stay here

and nab him
if he rushes past me.

(suspenseful music)

Have you misplaced
something, sir?

- This is not your business.
- I'll be the judge of that.

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

- Huh.

An odd choice of uniform.

- You are under arrest.

Come with me.

- You're making a mistake.
- We'll see about that.

(suspenseful music)

- Sergeant Albert Lee
under the command of Major
General Jacob Brown.

- You can stop
with this farce right now.

- That's all the information
I'm prepared to give.

Then you will accompany me
to our cells in Toronto.

- I'm an American citizen.

You have no right to do that.

- I can arrest you.
- On what charge?

I've done nothing wrong
and you have no proof
to suggest otherwise.

- I have suspicion.
- And suspicion is not proof,

certainly not enough
to detain a foreign citizen.

(sighing)

- Then I will find some.

Watch him, George.

And trust me, Mr. Lee,

it's only a matter of time

before you are
much more forthcoming.

(sighing)

- I thought he was a better
policeman than that.

(indistinct chatter)

- Look into this.

McNabb, file that.

Constable Tucker,
go to the Starbright Club.

- Thank you, sir.

But I don't think
they're open yet.

- On business.

Someone defaced
the establishment last night.

Get some whitewash
and clean it up.

It was obviously an area
you missed on your patrol.

Uh, that's all.

Oh, Henry,
do your regular patrol.

- I have a regular patrol?

- Crown Attorney Crabtree.
What can I do for you?

- Effie will suffice.

Have you seen Chief
Constable Brackenreid?

I need to speak to him
about the upcoming trial.

- He's been called
to the battlefield.

- Has there been an incident?
- It appears so.

- Is George all right?
- Of course.

- Right.

- If you don't mind me saying,
you look troubled.

- Oh, I'm... just
a little worried

about George, I suppose.

He's got a case of the morbs.

I was hoping
this little adventure

might cheer him up a touch.
- Curious.

- What is?
- That going to battle,

false or not, would be a place
to lift one's spirits.

Good day.

- How did you get involved
in all of this?

- What do you mean?

- Well, an interest
in the War of 1812.

It's not something I'd expect
from an Oriental chap.

- Only white people can be
interested in history?

- Well, I didn't say that.
- I remember it now.

You're George Crabtree!
- I am.

- The author.
Sir, it is an honour.

I have read The Curse of the
Pharaohs at least three times.

- Well, what about
my last book, A Man Alone?

- I'm sorry to say I didn't care
for it quite as much.

- The Curse was
a most enjoyable read.

Especially considering
it was written

by a white man
from Newfoundland.

Oh! And, uh, out of curiosity,

how was it you became
interested in Egypt?

- Touché, Mr. Lee.

But it wasn't so much Egypt.

It was the, the mummies
and the curses and whatnot.

- Are you going to be writing
about the War of 1812?

That's it, I'm sure!
You're here to experience

a taste of battle.
I could help you.

My great-grandfather was
a participant in many a battle.

- Is that so? And who was
your great-grandfather?

- Joseph Wilcox.

- Oh! I see.

A most notable figure indeed.

- And not at all
who they say he was.

And I'd love Mr. Crabtree
to reveal that.

- Is that so?
- Sir, I'll have to ask you

to move along. This man
is actually in my custody.

- What did he do?

- Well, uh...
- Did you hear that?

I'm being charged with,
"Well, uh..."

- Sir, if you could just
move along, please.

- Apologies, Constable.

I know you're just
following orders.

But if you want some advice,

I'd take a closer look
at that...

Franklin fellow.

I think he may be
involved in this.

- Do you, now?
- I do.

Oh! And perhaps
your Detective Murdoch

could use one of his famous
inventions to solve the case.

- Mr. Lee, how is it you know
so much about us?

- I know a lot
about many things.

- Right.

Give me your hands.
- Why?

- I have to restrain you.

(clears throat)

- You are holding a man
in custody, are you not?

- I am.
- Then let us get back to it.

- Huh. I agree.

- My foot's feeling better.
I wanna fight.

- Most of us have taken time off
from our jobs for this.

- We were preparing to stage
the part of the battle

where General Brock is killed.

- It turns the tide of the war.

- Yes, yes.
Uh, speaking of General Brock,

I've seen him wandering about.
Where is he?

Why is he not with you?

(chuckling)

- Show him Brock.

(scoffs)

- Here he is.

- The chap who played Brock

was unable to attend
so we improvised.

- I could swear I saw h...

(laughing)

- Seems like I'm not the only
one to hit the laudanum.

(laughing)
- Come on, sir.

We're sorry
the American is dead,

but we can't do
anything about it.

Let us fight.

(jazz music playing)

♪ Nobody knows you
when you're down and out ♪

♪ I mean
When you're down and out... ♪♪

- You meet me when I tell you.

And I don't need
to give you a reason.

- I'm sorry, but we can't
meet in public.

♪ Without a doubt ♪

♪ Nobody knows you
When you're down and out ♪

♪ I mean
When you're down and out ♪♪

(applause)

- What was that about?
- Nothing.

- Didn't look like nothing.

- What, are you my commanding
officer now?

I thought that was Watts.

- I outrank you.
What was that about?

(tense music)

- Seen that guy in here before.

So, I was questioning him
about the vandalism.

Surprisingly,
he didn't see anything.

Satisfied?

- Oh! Constable Higgins.
- Miss Hart.

Did you see the man
that Constable Tucker
was speaking to?

- I certainly did.

- And do you know him?

- He's in here regularly enough.

But not after today.

- What did he do?

- He made a suggestion,
not terribly subtle,

that this place could benefit
from some added protection.

- And what did you say to him?

- I told him to go to hell.

- Uh, tell me,

when they were speaking,
did it look like a...

friendly conversation?

- I wasn't here to see it.

Excuse me.
- Of course.

- Uh, how are we faring?

- You don't find this
at all strange, sir?

- What's that?
- Well, this Mr. Lee chap

seems to know a lot about us.

He knows I'm an author,
he knows you're an inventor.

- Well, I suppose each of us is
famous in our own right, George.

- Do you really think so?

- But knowing about us
makes him no less a suspect.

And I am getting
fed up with him.

- Murdoch!

- Ah, sir.

- So what's the situation then?

- I have a suspect in custody,
but I don't believe he did it.

He is, however,
hiding something.

- Oh, well,
let's get to it then.

Oh, and, uh, by the way,
I've had a word with the board,

and they've granted
your request.

- Thank you, sir. I believe
I am much better suited

to the field
than behind a desk.

- Are you sure about that?
- Uh, yes.

It's best I stay busy and
active whilst Julia is away.

- Well, I've found
your replacement.

- Very good.
Uh, sir, this is Mr...

(sighing)
- Good Lord.

Crabtree, release
this man immediately!

- Sir?
- Mr. Choi, I apologize.

- Sir, you know this man?
- Yes, I do. Now release him.

- Why?

- Well, I would say
it's extremely bad form

to arrest your new boss.

Gentlemen, this is
Mr. Albert Choi.

- He told us it was Lee.

- Apologies for the deception,
but I felt it necessary.

I'm very pleased
to meet the two of you.

- You were supposed
to report to Toronto.

- And I intended to, but I had
some unfinished business.

I was on the trail
of a man who is now dead.

And I need to know
who killed him.

- Now that we're all being
open and honest with each other,

what is going on?

- Some years ago, almost one
hundred to be precise,

gold bullion was stolen from a
depository in Buffalo, New York.

It was earmarked to help
fund the war effort.

The thief was a Canadian
by the name of Joseph Wilcox.

- The deserter?

- Who was killed
during the battle.

But not before he was able
to bury the treasure

somewhere on this battlefield.

- But you don't know where?

- I've learned from associates
in the Pinkerton Agency

that Mr. Diamont, the dead man,

had obtained a map
to its location.

- Well, how did he do that?

If such a map did exist,

it would be over
a hundred years old.

- Joseph Wilcox's gravesite
was disturbed some time ago.

I believe Mr. Diamont dug it up

and found the map
on Mr. Wilcox's person.

- That's what you were searching
for when I caught you.

- Why didn't you just tell us?
- Hm.

The Canadian Government
has laid claim to the gold.

But it is American property.

It's my duty to retrieve it.

- So, if Mr. Diamont
has been killed,

it's likely someone else
knows about the map.

- There had been rumours
he had a partner.

Mr. Diamont's murder
confirms that.

- Thieves turning on each other.
Now there's a new one.

- Now that we are all
working together,

perhaps you can tell us who
you believe this partner to be?

- My suspicions lie with
Constable Crabtree's admirer.

- Who the bloody hell
admires Crabtree?

- Ah, sir, perhaps
a good many people.

The detective reckons
we're famous.

- We're famous?
- Well, he and I. Not you.

- Mr. Franklin is also
Joseph Wilcox's great-grandson.

- Again, since we are
working together now,

you won't object
to me arresting him.

- Well, as long as the bullion
is returned

to the United States Treasury,
I have no issue.

- I don't care about the gold.

I care about catching
a murderer.

- I'm afraid the detective and I
have gotten off

on the wrong foot.
- Don't worry.

I'll have a word with him.

- Sir, what's happened
to your face?

Something different.

- What are you suggesting?

- I am suggesting
that something is amiss.

- Because you saw Tucker
talking to someone?

- Not just any someone.

He was talking to Tony Petrucci.
- Oh!

So, he was talking
to an Italian fellow.

- Well, not just any
Italian fellow.

Tony Petrucci is the head
of the Seaton Syndicate.

- The Seaton...
- They were a part

of the Black Hand
before they broke away.

Tony Petrucci took over
leadership of the group

after their boss was killed by
our very own Constable Tucker.

- Oh, well, that is something.
- Yes. It is.

- But talking to someone
is not a crime.

- But--
- My first job

as acting inspector
will not be arresting

a fellow policeman
without cause.

If we find something suspicious,

we'll bring it to Inspector
Murdoch when he returns.

- Well, I might as well be
at work. Right?

- Oh.
- You there.

- We finally going to be
allowed to fight?

- I need to speak
with Mr. Franklin.

- Well, he hasn't been
around in hours.

- Yeah, he likely deserted, just
like his traitorous grandfather.

- Yeah.
- When did you see him last?

- Ah, he was heading over
to the American encampment.

- Right. Could you please fetch
the Chief Constable for me?

- You're my boss now?

- Would you like to get back
to the fighting?

Or not?

(indistinct chatter)
- Oi! You lot! Pack it in.

Go on! Bugger off!

- Who the blazes are you?
- Who am I?

Chief Constable
Thomas C. Brackenreid,

someone with the authority
to throw you lot in jail.

- It's not our fault
a man was killed.

We just want to get
back to the game.

- War is not a game.

Now, go on. Clear off.

You're a bloody disgrace
to that uniform.

(indistinct chatter)

- You take this personally.
- Yes, I do.

- Sounds like you've
experienced it.

- Afghanistan.

Quite a few years ago.

It was no bloody picnic,
let me tell you.

Yourself?
- It's affected me, too.

When Japanese invaded Joseon.
- Joseon?

- It's now called Korea.
- Ah.

- My brother joined a righteous
army to try to beat them back.

He was killed.

Lost many friends as well.

- You were there?

- I tried to get back home,
but it was too late.

And the country I once knew
had been forever changed.

Like you said, not a game.

I hope one day
we'll see the end of it.

- And one day pigs might fly.

(laughing)
No, no, scrub that.

I've seen that.
- Oi.

Ah, Detective Murdoch
wants to talk to you.

- Right, then. Let's go.

- Wait.
- What?

- Tell me about
these flying pigs.

- Maybe later. Over a scotch.

(tense music)

- Part of the perks
of the job, is it?

Must not pay you much.
- I'm done with you.

- Are you now? That's rich.

- I've done everything
you asked.

- Well, that's no mean feat.
I haven't asked much of you.

- I killed a man.
- He deserved to be killed.

- You got what you wanted.

Now leave me alone.
- Okay.

I'll go after your wife.

And then her death'll be
on your hands

and you'll be in even more
hot water than you are now.

- Don't you dare.
You do that and I--

- And you do what?
You'll do nothing.

'Cause you'll be behind bars.

'Cause to all the world,
it'll look like

you killed your wife,
and you can trust me on that.

- What do you want me to do?
- That's better.

Just one more job.

I need you to send a message
to someone

been getting
a little too uppity.

- What's the message?
- It's a simple one.

I want you to burn down
that melanzana's nightclub.

You're not the only one that
needs to learn respect.

(dramatic music)

- Detective?
- Sirs!

Right this way.
- Good Lord.

It's my fanatic!

- What are you talking
about, Bugalugs?

- He's the admirer
of Mr. Crabtree's work.

- He must have found the map.

- Not much of a reward
for finding buried treasure.

- His body's still warm.

(carriage clattering)
(sighing)

- The general. Sir,
it's that mysterious general

you keep talking about.
- You there! Stop!

(dramatic music)

(grunting)
(horse neighing)

- I thought you said
he was a man of science.

- Amongst other things.

- Toronto Constabulary.

You are under arrest...

Terrence Meyers.
- Ah, Murdoch.

We meet again.

(clears throat)
Although,

hm, I'm not sure you needed
to be quite so rough.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

it is a matter of national--
- ...national security.

- No, actually not this time.

But it is important.
Let me go.

- In this case, Mr. Meyers,
you're under arrest.

- Good Lord.

- You murdered a man for this?

- I didn't murder anyone.

That man was dead
when I arrived.

- Is that so?

Then why did the killer
not take off with the gold?

- Who the devil are you?

- This is Mr. Albert Choi,

the new inspector
at Station House Four.

- Well, well, well.
Would you look at that?

Job became too much
for you, eh, Murdoch?

- Answer Inspector
Choi's question.

(scoffs)

- The man who killed Franklin
did not take the bullion

'cause I arrived.
He ran off.

- And you didn't give chase?

- Mr. Franklin's death
did not concern me.

What Mr. Diamont
was after certainly did.

- How did you get involved
in all this?

- Been interested in
Mr. Franklin for some time now.

- Why?

- He's the great-grandson
of a Canadian hero.

- Hero? Wilcox
was a bloody deserter.

- On the contrary.

He was a British operative.

He only pretended to desert.

Instead, he was gathering
valuable information

to aid our war effort.

- What does this have to do with
your interest in Franklin?

- It was rumoured that
his great-grandson

had found this out and
was preparing to clear his name.

I couldn't let that happen,
obviously.

- Why not?

He'd have proven his grandfather
to be a Canadian hero?

- He was buried
an American patriot.

His actions
in these hostilities

is not something either
government wishes to reveal

now that we're friends
and allies.

However, none of this
makes any difference now.

Mr. Wilcox's legacy
is properly tainted.

So, sure you found this
all very interesting,

but I shall be on my way.
- You will not, sir.

That bullion belongs
to the American government.

(chuckling)

- Does not, sir.

It is the spoils of war
and what happens

between our two countries
should be of little concern

to a man like you.

- A man like me?

What are you inferring?

- Mm.

Make whatever inference
you like.

- Chief Constable Brackenreid,

do I have your permission
to assume my role as inspector?

- Murdoch?

- I have no interest
in the position

and you have
made up your mind, sir.

- Carry on, Inspector.

- Detective, I would like you
to arrest this fellow

for theft
and suspicion of murder.

- I didn't murder--

- You've given me no proof
that you're an innocent man.

- Did you give up your loyalty
as well as your job, Murdoch?

- Terrence Meyers,
you're under arrest for murder.

(dramatic music)

- Mm.

Just gained yourself a very
powerful enemy, Mr. Choi.

- I've many enemies.

But I uphold the law,
no matter the race,

or station of the perpetrator.

And the proper term of address
is Inspector Choi.

(scoffs)

- I'd like you to assure me

that you're comfortable
with these developments.

- I am.
- He's a good man.

- If you say so, sir,
then I have no doubt.

How did the two of you
become acquainted?

- I met him a few months ago
at a convention.

He's always been
a good police officer.

He rose through the ranks
in police departments

from San Francisco to New York,
despite his circumstances.

- Well, that can't
have been easy.

- It is a big risk.

And there are certain members
of the Board of Control

that are not comfortable
with a man of his nature.

He'll need your full support.

- And he will have it.

- Gentlemen.

My ears are burning.
(chuckling)

- I'm just letting Murdoch know
a little bit more about you.

- Mm. I trust my actions
at Station House Four

will aptly demonstrate who I am.

And, Detective, I will defer
to your thoughts on this case.

What do you think
our next actions should be?

- So the plan is this man here
is going to shoot me?

- You don't trust me?
- I don't trust anyone.

It's a prerequisite of my job.

- Then have
Detective Murdoch do it.

- I will not have
a British soldier

murder Sir Issac Brock,
even if in jest.

Will you be joining
the engagement, sir?

- I don't think so.
I didn't bring a costume.

- Oh, I'm sure we could
outfit you in something.

- I think I'll sit this one out
on the sidelines.

- Ah.
- Right.

Uh, when Brock was killed,
there was a period of confusion.

The general leading
the British was dead

and there was a time of pure
chaos before the battle resumed.

If anyone is going to try
to slip away

and retrieve the gold, this is
when they might try to do it.

So, sir, could you please watch

the American line
to see if anyone deserts?

And, George, stake out
the wagon holding the crate.

If anyone approaches,
apprehend them on the spot.

- Sir, I was rather
hoping to fight.

- I understand, George,
but I need you to do this.

(motor whirring)

(sombre music)

(laughing)

(indistinct chatter)

- Define lurking.

- He was hanging about
the back of my club.

- You had reported someone
defaced your establishment.

Perhaps he was observing.

- You think he was trying
to help me?

I very much doubt that.

I also found an overturned
can of petrol

near where I saw
Constable Tucker.

- You think he was planning
on burning down your club?

- Llewellyn, I have been subject
to suspicion

and false accusations
my entire life.

I do not make
these claims rashly.

And if you do not look
into this,

I'll be forced to take matters
in my own hands.

I wouldn't advise that.

Then do something
about Constable Tucker.

- I have finished
my investigation

into the death of Mr. Diamont

and have concluded that it was
indeed death by misadventure.

As such, I am prepared to allow
renewal of hostilities.

(cheering)

Also, I have enlisted
the help of this man

to play Sir Issac Brock.

- So we're replacing
one dummy with another.

- Watch your mouth, sir,

or I'll have you charged
with insubordination.

(clears throat)
- This portion

of the reenactment
will take us up to and including

the killing of General Brock.

(cheering)

- Tucker. A word.

Take a seat.

- Prefer to stand.
- All right.

Where were you last night?

- Off duty.

- Were you near
the Starbright Club?

- No.

Why do you ask?

- I heard reports of you lurking
around the back alleys.

- Is that so?

- Mm-hmm.

- Well, if I was,
I would be surprised

not to see you there, too.

- What do you mean?

- Think you know exactly
what I mean.

I can make things extremely
difficult for the likes of you.

(eerie music)

- Be careful who you threaten,
Constable.

I've taken worse from men
much worse than you.

You're on notice.

- Is that all?

- We'll just have to see,
won't we?

(suspenseful music)

- March!

- First squadron,
change direction left.

Left march! Turn.

- Steady men, steady.

Do not shoot until you see
their eyes, clear and true.

- No one's equipped
with live rounds.

- It is, "No one is equipped
with live rounds, sir."

Halt!

- Halt.

- We shall fire a volley,
send the scourge home.

- Sir, should we not await
reinforcements?

- We will repel the invaders
with fire and steel.

Fire on my command.

- Men, ready!

Set!

Fire!

- Ready!

- Let them come to us.

- Take aim!

Fire!

- Onward to glory!

Ah!
- Good Lord.

The general's been shot!

- Hold your fire, men.

We have them.

(dramatic music)

- The general is dead, sir.

Who will assume command?

- Where is Mr. Byron?

He, uh, ran when
the Americans fired, sir.

- Find him, Murdoch!

- The general lives!

Let's send them back to hell!

Attack!

(shouting)

(curious music)

- Don't move.
I am a student of anatomy.

One thrust and you are
dead in a minute.

- Then you needn't worry.

- Now step away from the cart.

- All right.
- You there, stop! Police.

(grunting)

- Where did you learn
how to do that?

- Well, Inspector, I'm a student
of many cultures.

- If I were a younger man,

I would have you teach me
how to do that.

(chuckling)

- Brock was a great hero.

It was an honour
to have portrayed him.

- You died with great
relish, sir.

For a moment, I'd feared
I'd actually shot you.

(chuckling)

- So were the three of them
in it together?

- Not the three of them.
Mr. Byron and Mr. Diamont,

they were partners.
- What about Franklin?

He seemed like a nice fellow.

- According to Mr. Byron,

Mr. Franklin was seeking out
Mr. Diamont,

who had reached out
to him some time ago.

- Why?

- Uh, Mr. Diamont wanted to know

where Mr. Franklin's
great-grandfather
had been buried

and when Mr. Franklin discovered
that the burial site

had been desecrated,
he killed Mr. Diamont

and discovered the map.

He was busy digging up
the treasure

when Mr. Byron
found him and killed him.

- And Byron ran when your Meyers
came across the scene.

Where is Mr. Meyers?

(horse neighing)

(orchestral music)

- Meyers!

- He's taken the gold.

- Perhaps I should have
shot him in earnest.

(indistinct chatter)

- Tucker.

This is for you.
- Hopefully, it's a transfer.

- Yeah, good morning
to you too, Higgins.

- Ah, Detective Watts.

- Ah, don't you mean acting
Inspector Watts?

- You've done an excellent job
covering for Inspector Murdoch,

but as of today you're both
relieved of your duties.

Lads, if you can gather 'round.

Today, I have the pleasure
of announcing the appointment

of Inspector Albert Choi

as the new man in charge
of Station House Four.

Now, I've never been one
to define a man by his race

and I expect the same
from you lot.

Inspector Choi is a highly
respected lawman,

so he tells me.

I'm sure you'll all learn
a lot from him.

Sir, the floor is yours.

- It is a pleasure
to meet you all.

It is possible that more
than a few of you are surprised

to see that a man like me
will be leading you,

but rest assured I am more than
capable of running this station.

And you'll learn
I'm not like many people.

You're going to be introduced
to a new world.

- Hear, hear.

(applause)

(orchestral music)

(theme music)