04x09 - The Black Hand

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Murdoch Mysteries". Aired: January 2008 to present.*

Moderator: Virginia Rilee

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In the 1890s, William Murdoch uses radical forensic techniques for the time, including fingerprinting and trace evidence, to solve some of the city's most gruesome murders.
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04x09 - The Black Hand

Post by bunniefuu »

Right this way, sir.

Come on in. Please, find your seats.

INAUDIBLE SPEECH BELL RINGS

Constable Higgins.

What have you?

Well, the streetcar made it a stop down the line before the incident was noted, sir.

And as for the victim, it's a real puzzle, sir. Indeed.

Doctor, I hear we have something out of the ordinary.

A single g*nsh*t wound to the torso.

I suspect it hit the heart.

Brazen, but hardly odd.

According to Constable Higgins, no-one heard the sh*t.

Ah. Ah, indeed.

Perhaps he was sh*t elsewhere.

Given the severity of the wound, he would have left an impressive blood trail, and there's none. Hmm.

So if he was sh*t where he sits... and no-one heard...

A stray b*llet.

Some boys sh**ting at bottles.

Or some unrelated dispute?

A return railway ticket from New York City.

Well, we've given him quite the welcoming.

Something to write home about.

If you find anything else out, Doctor.

As usual.

Henry, impound this streetcar, please.

Yes, sir.

According his business card, our victim is a Wilbur Delory, Esquire, 539 Gilmour Street, New York.

Have George inquire with the New York City Police, please.

Yes, sir. Oh, and, sir, A few riders saw a man in a boater hat board the car with Mr Delory, sir.

They were having a friendly conversation. And where is this man?

He got off the car before it left the station. I'm afraid no-one saw his face clearly.

Perhaps he was just seeing Mr Delory on his way?

Interesting turn of phrase, Henry.

Henry, get this man's description, such as it is, out on the wire and have the men to canvas the area for any reports of g*nf*re. Straightaway, sir.

Ah, sir. As per your request, I've wired New York City Police about Mr Delory's information. Very good, George.

Sir, there's a rather fetching lady waiting for you in your office.

Oh? I'm not expecting anyone. Who is she?

From the little we spoke, I gather that you two are acquainted.

Who is she? Sir, I haven't the foggiest. Thank you.

Anna Fulford. My goodness! Hello, William.

What brings you to Toronto?

I'm on my way to Niagara Falls, with my fiance.

Your fiance. Ah, congratulations.

William, he's vanished. Vanished?

I'm at my wits' end.

I think something terrible must have happened.

COMMOTION What now?

We need to deal with this in an orderly fashion.

Crabtree! Get here.

Sir, it seems there has been a rash of petty crimes in their neighbourhood.

Pickpocketing, laundry stolen off clothes lines, missing chickens. Chickens? I have a theory.

Make it quick.

A gypsy caravan has just set up camp down by the river.

Gypsies? Bloody thieves.

Well, sir, the gypsy concept of ownership is different from ours, Well, sort it out. Sir, I will.

Where will you be? My office.

My campaign manager is stopping by.

Oh.

It'll be quieter in here.

I'm sorry to bother you, William.

I couldn't think what else to do.

It's quite all right. I would have been upset if you hadn't come to me, Anna.

Please, tell me what happened.

Joe left our hotel at about seven o'clock last night to look for a tobacconist.

We were supposed to meet for dinner in the hotel at half-past and he never arrived.

He literally went out for tobacco and never came back!

Forgive me for asking, Anna, but were you and he having troubles?

No!

We were on our way to Niagara Falls to get married.

I'm sorry, William, I didn't mean to snap.

It's quite all right.

And Joe's last name? Bell.

A few months after you and I had our...adventure in Bristol, I finally plucked up the courage to sail to New York.

Joe was the best thing about that place.

It's loud and filthy and the people are horrible.

I take it Joe is the exception.

He is. Strong and forthright, kind.

There aren't many like that.

Anyway, a short while after, he proposed and I thought all my dreams had come true.

We'll find him, Anna.

Look at me, I haven't even asked how you've been.

Oh, uh, I'm well.

And Julia? Are you and she still...

Uh, we're still very close, yes.

Julia is engaged to another.

Oh, William, I'm sorry.

That's quite all right. I'm fine.

Now, I'll need a description of Joe.

Yes. He's about your build.

Dark complexion, I suppose you'd say, a moustache and black hair.

What is it, William?

This new look of yours is going over very well with the voters... and the press, Tommy.

So I hear.

Now, what's all this about, Isaac?

Well, it seems that you are in a tighter horse race with your opponent than we had hoped for.

But just days ago you said that Ellis Cornwall was dead in the water. What's happened?

Things change quickly in politics. Cornwall's anti-immigrant stand is increasingly popular.

As a result, he has gained significant support for his opposition to the subway project, as well.

Cornwall says "No" to any new idea, a bloody Luddite is what he is.

Because he understands people are afraid of change. Now, he's savvy.

He's a numbskull, people will see through that.

Don't be simple, Tommy. Trust the people's judgement and you're doomed.

The immigration issue aside, without you on city council, we don't have sufficient numbers to pass the subway project vote next month.

Edwin Drury and the rest of your backers at the land consortium are getting nervous.

So what do we do?

WE b*at Cornwall at his own game.

And an opportunity to do just that has landed on our doorstep. It has?

The gypsy crime spree.

Crime spree? A few minor thefts?

There's nothing minor about it, Tommy. You have just released a statement saying that you are shocked at these brazen gypsies and intend to lock up the guilty and run the rest of out town.

When did I release this statement? It'll be in all the afternoon papers.

We've barely had time to look into these crimes. A statement's premature.

Not if you want to convince the voters that as alderman, you will be their champion of law and order.

That you intend to right the ship, To see your dream of "Toronto the Good" come true.

Now, you've promised that in all your speeches, don't you want to show them that was more than just words? Of course I do.

That's my boy, Tommy!

It's time to draw a line in the sand.

Now, go right that ship and show those gypsies who they're really dealing with.

Is this Joe?

Anna, I know how difficult this must be for you.

It's not Joe.

Thank God, he's still alive.

Right, then. I believe what would be best now is for you to get some rest.

I'll let you know as soon as there's news.

Constable Morris, please escort Miss Fulford to her hotel and stay there with her until I can join you. Thank you, William.

She's lovely.

Poor thing. I can't imagine how I'd feel in her situation.

Well, then, it would appear that Mr Delory is, in fact, himself.

Has your postmortem revealed anything, Doctor? Yes.

I recovered this slug. 32-calibre.

Given the powder burns on his skin, Mr Delory was sh*t point-blank.

Ruling out a stray b*llet.

g*nsh*t AND SCREAM I don't understand, Julia.

The passengers would have heard a g*nsh*t.

I know. I've no explanation, either.

And I found this - metal filings.

They were embedded in the wound and the victim's jacket.

As if they were also fired from the g*n?

If so, you're dealing with a most unusual w*apon.

I believe I need to return to the scene of the crime.

Metal filings, sir?

Yes. Like those recovered from the victim's body.

Henry, I'll need you to gather a few items for me.

Certainly, sir.

From where? A millwright.

Right, then.

Who's in charge here?

When I ask a question, I expect an answer.

You've got till the count of three before we take action.

One, two... Put those damn sticks away.

What are you, then? Their queen?

SHE LAUGHS He thinks I'm a gypsy queen.

Well you must be the police king. I'm Inspector Thomas Brackenreid.

Just who the hell are you?

I am the Phuri Dae. Furry what?

It means wise woman. I am the one who will speak with you. Only me. Come.

And no weapons.

Uh, sir, I should come with you, just to make sure that your safety is...

Just keep your eye on this lot, Crabtree.

Yes, sir.

So, Miss...whatever your name is, there's been a crime spree in this neighbourhood since you lot turned up. Really?

I will tell my clan to be on guard for those criminals.

Don't play coy with me, your clan needs to pack up and move on.

Inspector Brackenreid, gypsies are used to persecution, we aren't intimidated.

Please, show me the evidence against us.

You're trespassing on city property. You've got until noon tomorrow to be gone.

Otherwise, I can't answer for what might happen.

Neither can I.

Hello.

Sir. How did it go with the gypsies?

Bunch of goat-herders. That well.

They'll be gone by tomorrow if they know what's good for them.

What are you working on? It's a speculative notion at the moment.

To do with this impossible sh**ting of yours? Yes, sir. How's that going?

Well, sir, we've confirmed that the victim was indeed a Wilbur Delory from New York City, in town on business, according to his family.

Two incidents, both involving New York City residents.

Delory and Miss Fulford's missing fiance.

Yes, sir. Perhaps there's a connection.

The fiance knew him, had a row with him, k*lled him and ran. Could be that simple.

The thought had crossed my mind.

Keep an eye out, Murdoch.

Miss Fulford's runaway groom could be a bit of a dangerous character.

KNOCK AT DOOR Sir, Constable Morris just telephoned from the Imperial Hotel.

Miss Fulford took a message at the front desk from her fiance. Indeed.

Have Morris stay put with Miss Fulford until I can get there.

Morris just found this out now. He thought Miss Fulford was in her room. I don't understand, George.

Where is Miss Fulford now? Sir, she's on the way to meet her fiance. What?

Do we have any idea where she was going? The man who took the message said the Gerrard Street bridge, sir.

Anna!

Anna!

William! William, I finally heard...

What the hell are you doing?

Joe would never harm anyone, let alone try to k*ll me.

But he contacted you with instructions that led you into an ambush.

Anna, just how well did you know him, really?

Just what does that mean? Well, you've had a whirlwind romance.

You barged into my pub with a b*llet through your arm, begging me to believe you weren't a m*rder*r.

So don't you dare question my judgement!

But isn't it possible that your love for Joe has blinded you to the truth about him?

Right. If I'm to help you find Joe, I'll need to know everything you know about him.

Where do I start?

Was he well-off? Where did he work?

He has his own business, shipping cargo back and forth to Europe.

What sort of cargo?

I'm not sure.

That's all right, we can find all of that out if you just tell me the name of the company.

I don't actually know.

You weren't far off when you said whirlwind.

Oh, this is embarrassing.

Did Joe ever mention a Wilbur Delory?

I don't think so. Who is he?

He's the unfortunate gentleman I showed you in the morgue.

He had a b*llet in him, are you seriously suggesting that the man I love is going about Toronto sh**ting people and trying to k*ll me?!

I don't know anything at the moment, Anna. But I do know I don't wish to see you harmed.

Joe would never harm me. I know he wouldn't.

FEEBLE g*nsh*t Is that it? Virtually no noise.

I got the idea after reading about Hiram Maxim's attempts to muffle the sound of internal combustion motors.

So this is a "muffler", so to speak. Yes, George.

Which would explain why no-one on the streetcar heard the g*nsh*t.

Insidious is what it is. I agree.

The key to this "muffler", as you call it, George, is the sound-dampening properties of metal filings, stuffed into a series of conical baffles along the length...
"sil*ncer."

That has a better ring to it. Oh, sorry, sir.

Along the length of the cylinder...
"Baffler" - that's the ticket.

So those metal filings are like the ones found in the victim's wound?

Correct. They would have been blown out with the force of the sh*t. Murdoch... a man travels all the way from New York City to commit m*rder and uses a highly-specialized device that ensures he can slip away into thin air. What does that sound like?

I believe we're dealing with an assassin.

Tommy, we have a problem.

We do?

Mr Drury, good to see you again.

I took care of our problem, gentlemen.

The gypsies will be gone by tomorrow. You should have run them out of town, Inspector.

A number of my neighbours on Jarvis Street, many of whom I convinced to contribute to your campaign, were burglarised last night by those lowlifes.

What makes you think it was the gypsies?

My son, Edwin Junior, and his friends saw the gypsy men themselves from our drawing room.

The thieves were breaking into number 28.

First a minor crimewave, now these major thefts by these immigrant peasants.

Ellis Cornwall will rake you over the coals with this unless you react with an iron hand.

We can still turn this to your advantage, but we need arrests and we need the caravan out of town before the evening papers hit the streets.

I can see your point, gentlemen, but that's not how I left it with them.

We should give the gypsies a chance to... Brackenreid. You've...

We've got a potential disaster on our hands.

Just get back to that camp and get them the hell out of there.

And I'm sending the press, so I don't want any mistakes.

Everything Mr Drury's consortium has worked for depends upon this, Tommy. Everything YOU'VE worked for.

You wanted to see me, Doctor?

Yes, I've received a request from Mr Delory's family to have his remains returned to New York.

Yes, I see no reason why not.

Right.

Then I'll release the body to the mortician here that the family made arrangements with.

He's to ship the body to a funeral parlour in New York City.

Very good.

Is there something else?

Yes. I suppose I was wondering how you'll keep Miss Fulford safe now there's been an attempt made on her life?

Well, I've asked her to remain at the station house until I can arrange protective custody.

And once the k*ller is caught... Why can't she stay with me?

With you? Yes.

The k*ller would never think to look for her in my home and she'd be more at ease.

Yes. But... Consider what Anna's going through, William.

If the gunman is her fiance, then she's been horribly betrayed AND she's lost the love of her life.

It's heartbreaking.

Indeed.

I'll arrange it.

Right, you lot, there's no need for trouble, but if that's what you want I'm happy to oblige.

Thomas... Tommy Brackenreid is fair but tough.

Are you getting all this down, Glyn? Every golden word. Good lad. Inspector!

You will stop this immediately.

Ma'am, I'll ask you to stay back for your own safety.

It's all right, Crabtree. What you've got to understand is that there's no point crying over this.

The decision's been taken. By who?

Oh. I see. So you were following someone else's orders. You're a messenger boy.

If it wasn't for me, we'd be rounding everybody up, not just the men. You gave us until tomorrow.

You were going nowhere and you know it.

So I am the liar? Well, in that case, you leave me no choice.

What you seek, you shall never gain.

What's that supposed to mean?

She is remarkable. Who is she? Never you mind, get on with your job.

Sir, I think she just put a gypsy curse on you. A curse, was it?

Thank you, Crabtree. She did no such thing.

Right, you lot, come on. Chop-chop.

I don't know how to thank you for your kindness, Doctor. Call me Julia.

May I ask you a personal question, Julia?

Of course.

Well, the way William spoke of you in Bristol, I got the feeling you and him were destined for each another.

But now you're engaged to someone else. So, I was wondering...

What happened?

I don't mean to pry. It's just...

Well, it's important to me that William's happy.

It's good of you to care for him. I still do, very much.

But...it became obvious that our futures were... just not compatible.

It must be true what they say...

Love isn't always enough.
KNOCK AT DOOR

Sir, your signature is needed.

The customs form regarding Mr Delory's body.

Yes, of course.

What is it, George?

Sir, with respect to the Jarvis Street break-ins, the inspector hasn't asked to interview any of the residents.

He's just taking it on Edwin Drury's word that it was the gypsies.

There's a saying, George - it's just politics.

Yes, but, sir... Don't worry.

I'll make sure the thefts are thoroughly investigated very soon.

In the meantime, the inspector needs our support and discretion.

Yes, sir.

That's odd.

The funeral home that Mr Delory's body is meant to be shipped to...

It's different than the one his family requested.

No-one should disturb the dead, not even the police.

Mr Palmer, we contacted Mr Delory's family in New York City and they had no idea arrangements for Mr Delory's body had been changed.

But they contacted me directly.

Someone contacted you, but it wasn't Mr Delory's family.

And whoever it was has been going to great lengths to obtain his body.

I want to know why.

Sir, that body's sitting awfully high up.

Mr Delory seems anxious to escape this shipping coffin, Mr Palmer.

Can you explain why? I cannot.

It's a false bottom, sir.

If you please, George.

One, two...

Oh, my...

Well, George.

It appears we've found Miss Fulford's fiance.

I'm sorry, Anna. I need some air.

I'll come with you. William!

She needs time to herself.

Of course.

I have preliminary results.

Joe Bell d*ed of a single g*nsh*t wound to the abdomen.

32-calibre. The same as the other victim.

And I found metal filings in the wound.

Time of death?

Roughly 24 hours ago.

He was k*lled before Mr Delory.

Why are these two men dead?

And why on Earth would someone want Anna dead, as well?

And why would the k*ller want to ship Joe Bell's body back to New York in secret?

It's a conundrum to be sure, sir.

Well, whatever his reason, the k*ller comes up with this double-coffin deception.

But he needs a second corpse to put on top of Joe Bell's body.

So he must have known Delory was from New York.

The streetcar witnesses claim that two men were chatting moments before the m*rder.

So the m*rder*r k*lled Delory simply because he needed a corpse?

Sir, the disregard for human life...

Indeed, George. This assassin is well suited to his calling.

I don't believe we've seen his like before.

Bloody hell, Glynn! What were you thinking, eh?

You were supposed to write about the arrests, not this curse bollocks.

But a gypsy curse! How could I ignore a thing like that? I thought we had a deal.

I give you scoops over the other broadsheets in exchange for good press on my station house.

On your station house, yes. Not your political aspirations.

Is it possible you've confused the two?

If your reporting costs me this election, I guarantee I'll find a way to make you sorry.

Is that a quote, Inspector?

Sir... What do you want, Crabtree?

Sir, the gypsy women have begun a sort of vigil outside.

Outside? Are you serious?

Yes, sir. That wise woman of theirs says they won't leave until their men are released.

Shall I have the lads try to move them off?

With Glynn there, ready to make a fool out of me again?

Sir, if I were an objective observer, which I believe I am, I might "observe" that...

Sir, I believe your policing methods have suffered of late.

Did I hear you correctly, Crabtree?

Yes, sir.

PHONE RINGS What?

Oh, Mr Drury. I'm so sorry.

Yes, sir. I'll be right there.

Where are those Jarvis Street break-in reports?

I'll fetch them, sir.

I never saw the man, Detective. I received a telephone call.

And this caller, what did he offer you?

The continued use of my legs.

I see.

Mr Palmer, how did the second body get into the coffin without you seeing who put it there?

The caller asked me to prepare the Delory corpse and then go for a stroll.

I was to leave the door open and come back in an hour.

That's all I know.

Detective, who are these people that thr*aten such ghastly v*olence?

Sir... The break-in reports.

Detective! The men have been showing photos of Joe Bell around.

They discovered he made a visit to Union Station not long before he was k*lled.

He was alone? Yes, sir.

Why return to Union Station?

Apparently he stored several items while in transit.

He requested access to a piece of luggage, then left the station.

Beyond that, I'm afraid the trail goes cold, sir.

Well, whatever he was doing, it was certainly without Miss Fulford's knowledge.

We need to find out what he put into storage, Henry.

Sir.

How do you do it, Murdoch?

Joe loved this watch.

It kept terrible time.

These are the rest of his effects.

Thank you.

What will you do when all this is over?

Start again, I suppose.

Though it's hard to imagine how.

I suppose we become so accustomed to the shape of our lives, we're convinced that no other is possible.

And yet, of course, it is.

You know, I've fallen for two men in the space of a year and I've lost them both.

There's always the nunnery. Two men?

One was Joe.

The other walked into my pub in Bristol.

But his heart belonged to another.

Oh...

My chaperon is growing impatient. I should return to the safety of your home. Of course.

Thank you.

I have to say I'm surprised at you, Tommy.

Very surprised.

I asked a simple thing and you made a mess of it.

The round-up went exactly to plan, Mr Drury.

So Paddy Glynn's the problem? Don't look to side-step the blame.

I beg your pardon? Who was it sent him down there?

Inspector, I will not accept failure.

You need to counter-att*ck after this fiasco.

I'm open to ideas. Well...

There is something that might "right the ship", sir.

I'm listening. Perhaps your family would care to attend the theatre this evening?

I could teach Joe Bell a thing or two. When I travel, I pack one valise and a shoe box.

A one-hour carriage ride to your mother's doesn't count as travelling.

Sir, where would you like this monstrosity? Right here on the work table, George.

Right, then, let's see what brought Joe Bell to Union Station.

I'm betting it's another body, sir. It often is.

It OFTEN is, Henry?

And we have...

..tin cans.

No doubt full of body parts, Higgins.

And inside is...

..Oil. Sir?

Olive oil to be precise.

Who would go carting around gallons of olive oil while they're on vacation? There's something in here.

What on Earth?

American $20 bills.

Sir, if the other tins are filled with the same, there's a fortune here.

Sir, who was this Joe Bell?

How did he come by all this money?

I have no idea, George.

But it's a fair bet that this is why he was m*rder*d.

The paper itself is low grade, high in linen, lacking in cotton.

And, if you look at Alexander Hamilton's buttons, there are two. There should be three.

So this Joe Bell was a counterfeiter who couldn't count.

No, in fact. According to the United States Secret Service, this particular counterfeiter is a forger who lives in Sicily.

Sicily? How did this fake money end up in New York?

Miss Fulford said that her fiance, Joe Bell, had a shipping company, various cargo.

Some of which was Sicilian olive oil.

Yes, now the question is whether or not Mr Bell was part of this counterfeiting ring or if he simply happened upon the hidden money.

Either way, he helps himself to a few tins and makes a run for it.

Yes. And the rightful owners sent an assassin to track him down. And they are?

The New York City Police have no knowledge of this Joe Bell.

But they did recognise the double-coffin ruse.

It's a technique used by an organised crime group called the Black Hand.

The double coffin allows them to transport victims they don't want discovered.

Pragmatic cutthroats.

Apparently this Black Hand has its roots in Sicily but has been moving into New York City's Italian community.

First a band of gypsies, now something called organised crime.

"Toronto the Good", indeed.

So, do you have a plan to put a stop to this business?

I might. Brilliant.

Cos I have a crime wave of my own to deal with. I've heard. And you hope for a speedy conclusion?

I do. With the actual thieves behind bars, if you were wondering.

I was not. Good.

Now, you have some unpleasant business to attend to.

Yes.

Joe would never associate with this Black Hand. He was a good soul.

No doubt.

But, he did steal from the Black Hand.

And it cost him his life and put yours in jeopardy.

I swear I had no idea what Joe was doing.

And I believe you.

But the attempt on your life would suggest that the Black Hand feels otherwise.

And it's this mistaken belief that's the basis for my idea.

To catch his k*ller? Yes.

Now, it stands to reason that the Black Hand wants the money back.

And I intend to give it to them.

Why would you want to give those murderers anything? To draw out the assassin.

I'll send them a telegram pretending to be you, and that you know what they've done.

"Anna" will offer the money in exchange for her life.

And when the k*ller presents himself, he'll be apprehended. And how will you contact them?

There is a funeral parlour in New York City I believe the Black Hand uses as a cover.

I'll wire them the specifics of where and when the exchange is to take place.

Well, I want to be there with you.

It's far too dangerous.

But the k*ller will expect to see me.

If he doesn't, he might slink away and you'll never catch him. Anna, I will not use you as bait.

William, if our roles were reversed, if you were after the k*ller of the woman you loved, you would not want to be denied a role.

No, I would not.

Right.

So what can I do to help?

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT Have you come to beg me to lift the curse?

No, something even more difficult than that.

I'm here to admit that I was wrong.

Yes?

I know your men didn't commit those break-ins, but apologies aren't going to get them out of the situation they're in.

So, your words are empty. No.

I do have a plan, but I need your help.

Release my men first. I can't.

For this to work, they must remain in jail one more night.

May I?

The public has to believe the men are free.

I need your women to cancel their vigil outside my station house.

And suppose your big plan doesn't work?

Well, for one thing, you won't have to curse me again.

I'll have the whole city doing that.

And the police king will fall?

He will.

Well, well, well.

What do we have here?

They're friends of my son, Edwin Jr.

Yes, the ones so eager to give statements blaming the gypsies.

It was Edwin Jr's idea.

That's rubbish. It's true, I swear.

What was Edwin Jr's idea? Speak!

To rob each others' house when our families were out.

These boys are just trying to get my son in trouble. No, I don't think so.

You see, Mr Drury, I went back over your boy's statement.

Before I came back up here this afternoon, I stopped off in front of Number 28.

There's no line of sight between there and that drawing room window.

Which means your boy and these two were lying when they said they saw the gypsies breaking into the place.

It was a set-up. And I'm afraid your son instigated it all.

Well, thank you, Inspector. You can rest assured that my son will be dealt with severely.

Actually, there'll be no back-room deals.

I'll have my men arrest Edwin Jr at the theatre.

I'd think twice about that. You will humiliate my family, and theirs.

Tommy, this...this may not be the smart move. What are you saying, Lowe?

Well, politics is all about the compromise, the give and the take.

So you give a little on this, and you take a little on that.

Are you attempting to bribe an officer of the law?

Of course not.

You told me to make this city "Toronto the Good".

And I'm doing just that. Let's not mince words here, Tommy, you're making a mistake that will go far beyond throwing your campaign away.

Bribes? Threats?

Now I may not know much about politics, but I do know about the law, and you two are that close to breaking it.

Boys! Outside! Tommy, Tommy...

The name is Inspector Brackenreid.

And I say to hell with politics.

You two can dig that subway your bloody selves.

Sorry, sir, you'll have to take the next car. But this is the last one.

We have an extra car running tonight.

Why can't I take this one?

We're on a very tight schedule. Tight schedule? These cars never run on time!

Sir, I have to ask you to step aside. I have to make my shift. If I'm late, I'll be sacked.

Sir, I understand... What is the issue?

Drop your w*apon!

Uh!

Anna!

What on Earth...? He m*rder*d Joe.

Joe Bell was a member of the Black Hand.

He handled shipping of the counterfeit money into New York City.

And all of that was going smoothly until he met and fell in love with Anna Fulford.

And then he wanted out.

So he took the money to start their new life together.

Correct me if I'm wrong.

So the Black Hand sent you to k*ll Joe Bell.

And in bringing his body back to New York City it would send a very clear message - steal from the Black Hand, it will find you and k*ll you.

Anna Fulford is innocent.

She played no part in this.

Oh, we don't see it that way.

No harm will come to her. You don't understand.

Someone will replace me.

If they fail, they will be replaced.

The woman will die.

The Black Hand does not forget.

It will come for her. And for this city.

So you're off? It's better this way.

They say Peterborough is a nice little town.

So I've heard. Lots of chickens.

I never would have thought this a couple of days ago, but I think I'll miss you. Your clan, I mean.

Thank you, Inspector. You will forgive us if we don't send postcards. Right.

I'm glad that you're here, because I have to lift the curse.

Don't bother. It wasn't actually a curse as it turned out.

I must be losing my touch.

Take care of yourself, Inspector. You're one of the good ones.

I never did get your name.

Mirela. (Mirela.)

So these people will hunt me down and k*ll me simply to save face?

I'm afraid so. I'm not sure I can resign myself to that. You don't have to. But you just said...

Anna, I can't protect you, but I can help you hide.

I don't want to run and hide, William. I want to stay here. You can't.

Well, Bristol, then. I could go home.

We've had these documents made up for you.

They're your new identity. A new name, a new past.

Everything you'll need.

But where will I go?

What am I going to do? Anna, what's important is surviving to be able to make those decisions.

I'm so sorry, but it's the best I can do.

How did this happen? Both of us losing the futures we counted on?

Perhaps, when enough time has passed, you can come to me. No.

No. You must never tell anyone what's become of Anna Fulford.

Not even me.

To do so would place us both in great danger.

So this really is goodbye?

I'll miss you, William.

Thank you.

Good luck, Anna.
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