05x04 - w*r on Terror

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...donnez moi une seconde, Higgins, je dois appeler la station...

All these boxes are fantastic, now we can communicate...

Mind yourself, lad.

Now, we can communicate from almost anywhere in the city.

Imagine one day a telephone so small, you could carry it around.

It would never work... wires all over town, you'd trip the horses.

Oh! Station number four, please. George, just so you know, I began reading your book, and I... Ah, yes!

Agh!

I never saw it coming, sir. You couldn't have.

How's Henry?

He'll be right as rain.

Detective Murdoch... Stay where you are, Crabtree, Murdoch will be fine.

Wesley, get Crabtree and Higgins to Toronto General straightaway.

Right, everybody off the street, please, there's nothing to see!

Move along, please, sir.

There was over $3,000-worth of goods in there. Stand down, sir.

Who's going to pay for my losses? Well, not the Constabulary.

Please get off the street, so we can continue with our job.

Please tell me, what is going on?!

Two of our constables were seriously injured.

Doing a job they're well-paid to do.

You shut your mouth, sir, or I'll shut it for you. I've told you once, get off the street... I won't tell you again.

Inspector! I think I may have found something.

What have you got, Murdoch?

Sir, I believe this is the result of an incendiary device.

A b*mb? It seems someone has taken an intense dislike to Mr Milne.

Doesn't look like any kind of m*llitary ordnance I've seen before.

I've yet to locate any insignia or manufacturer's mark.

Home-made? I would say so. Quite a powerful device.

Mmm. Is it possible that our lads were the intended victims?

The b*mb was placed in Milne's shop. I would say that was the target.

But our lads walk that b*at every day. Anything's possible.

A device like this could k*ll someone. Bastards.

As soon as you know the origin of the device, let me know. Yes, sir.

How are you, lad? Welcome back!

Crabtree!

Crabtree.

I admire your dedication, but you could have had a couple of days off.

That's not necessary, sir. Any word on Higgins, will he be all right?

He's well cared for.

Constable Crabtree? Ah!

I heard the news... are you faring well?

I'm fine, Dr Grace. To what do I owe the pleasure? A favour, Constable Crabtree. What's that? It would benefit me greatly if I could accompany you on your investigation. Why?

To understand how the police do their job.

Doctor, I don't doubt you can handle yourself, but police work can be very dangerous. I can see that.

But I am prepared to assume the risk.

I'm sorry, Doctor, it would be irresponsible of me.

Thank you.

All right.

Henry?

Detective Murdoch, I...

Er... At ease, Constable. Save your strength.

Was anyone else hurt, sir? There was so many women and children.

Nothing serious.

And George?

It would appear he has a much harder head than you do.

That's no surprise!

Did you get the bomber, sir?

I've only just started looking.

You will.

Henry?

Yes, I will catch him.

Detective, I'm not a popular man... not that it worries me.

Anyone you're particularly unpopular with?

Landlord wanted me out, neighbours weren't exactly neighbourly, I let half a dozen employees go... should I go on?

Yes, please, I have time.

All right.

Take that "dandy" over there...

He's a dreadful man. Mr Milne left refuse in the lane, he'd stay in his store to all hours of the evening, make noise, loiter around, catcall women! From his place of business?

Man like him, where else would he go? He hasn't got a friend in the world.

No home to go to, either, I've heard.

You've complained to the landlord about his behaviour? We all did.

Not that it did much good. Mr Decker said that his hands were tied.

I see. Does this mean that Milne will be leaving the market?

Well, the building is unsound, I imagine it will have to come down.

What a shame!

This is dreadful. Damned Milne!

I've had this building for more than ten years...

I've never had a tenant like him.

He probably caused this... I bet he's got an illegal still in the back.

I don't believe so, it was an expl*sive device that caused it.

So you two weren't on the best of terms? I wanted him out, that's no secret. But he wouldn't leave, said he had an iron-clad lease... he's nothing but a damn nuisance.

Mmm... almost like a boil that refuses to be lanced.

Mmm.

Er, did he have any enemies then, sir?

Anyone in his employ, I would imagine. Well, anyone else?

The man that owned that establishment, er, Angus Trout.

He had the bad fortune of being in the same business as Milne.

And? Milne drove him out of business... poor Trout sold his inventory for pennies on the dollar.

They had quite a set-to the day that Trout finally shuttered his windows.

The Constabulary were called... from time to time, Trout comes by to hector Milne.

Really? When did this last occur? Yesterday, I believe. I wasn't here, but it was the talk of the street.

Ha-ha-ha! He lost his whole shop?!

Yes, he did. Ha-ha-ha-ha!

His whole shop! Shame he wasn't in it at the time!

A colleague of mine was almost k*lled in that expl*si*n!

So just... shut your mouth!

George. Sir, I suggest you sober up, before you incriminate yourself.

Sober up?! This is the best day I've had in a long time!

Sir, I'm sorry for that outburst.

Quite all right, George, it was justified.

What's this all about? I have no idea.

Is this the man behind the bombing? You're damn right!

Quiet, Mr Trout. Step aside, people! He's the traitor? Why did you do it?

You want to know who the criminal is? It's Peter Milne!

Just let us pass.

Put Mr Trout in the interrogation room, please, George.

And post a guard.

Gentlemen, back to work.

So has he confessed? Hmm? Named any co-conspirators?

Terrence Meyers! Murdoch.

What might this have to do with our esteemed government?

Who's the man? What's his name?

His name is Angus Trout. He's a shopkeeper.

I'm questioning him regarding... Oh, I'm well aware of all that.

The Anarchist att*ck on Dunbar Market.

Anarchists?

That bombing was no simple dispute between two shopkeepers.

It was a first strike against us.

By whom? Anarchists, Murdoch.

It would appear our country has now joined the w*r on terror.

You'll have to go a long way to convince me that Toronto is being besieged by t*rrorists.

Hmm. Why doesn't that surprise me?

Gentlemen, I am privy to some confidential information.

Our government is currently in high-level negotiations pertaining to a visit to Canada by President William McKinley.

This would be something of a coup for us, as it would be the first trip to foreign soil by any American President.

Well, bully for him.

I'll get the missus to make him a steak and kidney pie with mushy peas on the side.

Inspector Brackenreid, despite your opinions to the contrary, the Americans are an important, if somewhat unruly, ally of ours.

How are the tribulations of an unpleasant shopkeeper involved?

Well, it speaks to the maturity of the country, I suppose.

The Americans think our standards of law and order fall short.

Damn Yankees.

Who are they to talk about standards, hey?

Or law and order, for that matter?!

They went to w*r with themselves! Our Government wants to be the first to host an American President, so we must be vigilant.

We are vigilant. Really? Oh, good. Good, good, good.

You must be keeping close tabs on Emma Goldman, then.

Who the bloody hell is Emma Goldman?

Emma Goldman is a noted American Anarchist and labour organiser.

Who, according to reliable sources, is currently in Toronto.

It is my opinion that she and her cohorts are the authors of the bombing you are currently investigating.

Any reason why Miss Goldman would b*mb a shop on market day?

Well, Milne's Fine Goods appealed to an elite clientele.

The bombing was an affront against capitalism... the backbone of any free society.

They att*cked more than a shop... two of our own were injured.

That may be a coincidence.

Has Miss Goldman's group taken credit for the att*ck?

Gentlemen, whatever the reason for the att*ck, it is our duty to eliminate this scourge.

It is our Prime Minister's opinion that the Anarchist movement is a thr*at to peace, order and good government.

I love my country. Not to worry, Mr Trout.

I doubt you have political affiliations of any kind.

Your only conviction appears to be to the bottle, and little else.

You haven't gone through what I have... a destroyed business, shattered marriage, watching my loyal customers walk in and out of Milne's shop as I shuttered my windows.

The bottle's the most reliable thing I have left in the world.

Mr Trout, while you were watching those customers, did you happen to see anything suspicious?

I saw Albert Wallace kick up a fuss.

And he is? A clerk once in Milne's employ.

Milne fired him three weeks ago.

Well, I think the future of policing will be much like my field... covert operations, subversion, prediction and prevention of crime before it's committed.

George, see if you can locate a Mr Albert Wallace, a former employee of Mr Milne's... he's a person of interest.

Yes, sir. Good work, Murdoch. Is he affiliated with Emma Goldman?

He's a store clerk.

You mean, he SAYS he's a store clerk...

These Anarchists sound like Marxists to me.

They share some philosophies, I think.

Oh, that's what you call it, philosophy?

I don't recall Socrates running around blowing up shops.

I'd string up the lot of them. As long as they were guilty, I trust?

Of course. Do Meyers' suspicions carry any weight? They might.

The b*mb and its construction does share some similarities to the device used in the Haymarket att*ck in Chicago 13 years ago.

Eight coppers d*ed that day, didn't they?

Brothers in arms, despite their lineage.

Stay close to Meyers on this, Murdoch. It's our investigation...

I don't want him getting his sticky little fingers into it.

He already has, sir. Once Ottawa is involved... Yes, I know, but...

I don't want a cock-up. Sirs...

Mr Wallace is in the interview room.

Why did Mr Milne remove you from his employ?

He withheld my wages, didn't pay me for days I had worked.

I had the audacity to complain.

And why would he do that? Because he's a heartless capitalist.

He routinely cheated his employees.

I wasn't the first man he fired for speaking his mind.

Your politics betray you, sir. What do you mean by that?

You are aware that Emma Goldman is currently...

An Anarchist? Ha-ha-ha! You think I'm an Anarchist!

Are you? Oh, hardly!

The Anarchists are nothing more than disorganised idealists.

I am an adherent of Karl Marx.

Oh, I see.

Anarchy is an unworkable political theory.

It's a thimbleful of intellectual ideas drowning in a bucket of naivete.

Do you think society could function without some mechanism of control?

Ha-ha! Mr Wallace, I'm not here to debate political theory with you.

I'm here to ask about your involvement with Mr Milne.

Milne treated his workers like dogs. Worse than dogs.

Mmm. And where were you when his establishment was bombed?

There's a suggestion that the bombing was a staged event perpetrated by the Anarchist movement.

Are they trying to take credit for it?

There's been talk. The Anarchists? They said they did it?

Oh, I'm not saying... Well, they didn't do it. I did it.

I placed the device for the revolution... the workers' revolution!

Are you admitting your guilt, sir? Yes, sir!

Right, then.

Where in the establishment was the b*mb placed?

Near the cash register.

Mmm. And the b*mb's composition? It was supplied to me, I...

And the method of detonation?

I lit... the fuse?

A moment, Detective.

I would appreciate being notified next time you intend to monitor my interrogations.

You had a confession. A false one. He's innocent.

You argued him out of his guilt.

Because he isn't guilty and he should be released.

You can read minds now, can you?

Sir, Albert Wallace has been arrested several times.

He's an attention seeker, publicity hound, trying to become a martyr.

The man uttered a false confession. I want him charged with obstruction.

Well that certainly is an improvement, Chief Constable.

At least this time, you've manufactured a viable charge.

You walk a fine line, Detective Murdoch.

Mind you don't stumble on it.

There is talk of a demonstration on Liberty Street tomorrow afternoon.

Emma Goldman is planning to speak.

I want her arrested at the slightest provocation.

I believe your Constable Higgins is still in hospital.

The bastards responsible are going to pay.

I trust that sentiment is shared by all at this station?

Oh, yes, of course.

As long as those we make pay are actually guilty.

We pushed open the door to the tomb of the Pharaohs and choked on the dust of the ancients.

What we saw when our eyes adjusted to the light was a most horrific sight.

The mummy's tomb had been opened, and the poor unfortunate was lying on the ground for all the world to see, swaddled in rags that were once regal, but were now despoiled by the cruel hand of time.

As we moved deeper into the crypt, we began to realise that we were not in the grave alone.

There was a pair of hideous yellow eyes gazing upon us.

We'll pick it up from there tomorrow, Henry.

You're going to want to be awake for the ending.

Wonderful news, isn't it?

What's that? The demonstration, man.

Come on, this could be the break we've been waiting for.

Could you be a bit clearer?

Just follow me, Murdoch. Come on, I've got an idea. Come on!

Too formal, sir. And a bit too tidy.

Could you not find a shirt with frayed cuffs or a dirty collar?

Or a dustman's cap to cover your nice hair?

Mm-hm. And what about me, Constable Crabtree, do I, er, pass muster?

Oh, sir, you look like a regular ragman. No offence. Excellent.

May I ask the reason for all this subterfuge?

Mr Meyers believes this is a worthwhile avenue of investigation.

We will infiltrate this criminal organisation and cut off its head.

We will b*at them at their own game. Let's go, Murdoch.

George, I need you to stick to the task, in case Mr Meyers' speculations are wrong-headed.

If I find anything? Use your initiative.

So I'm assuming you didn't have anything to do with it? Nah.

So, were you hurt in the expl*si*n? Sorry, sir? I was.

So you had very few dealings with Mr Milne personally?

How are you?

Thanks.

And what brings you down here? Hello, Constable Crabtree!

I told you this is dangerous business.

I'm simply a private citizen doing my shopping. Ah.

May I join you, Constable?

I promise not to get in the way.

Just mind yourself. Thank you. So, what shall we investigate?

You mean who? Of course.

You see, Detective Murdoch focuses on physical evidence...

I prefer to explore the inner workings of the human mind.

That's why he and I... make such a good team.

And who are these men who call themselves our leaders?

I'll tell you who... men no better than any of you.

Yet they conduct themselves like they are royalty and they treat us as if we were children, incapable of making our own decisions.

I reject the idea of government, either for the people or by the people, as strongly as I reject the idea of monarchy!

Listen to her. Strong words, indeed.

These men, this "government", is nothing more than an arrangement between the ruling elite and the powers of industrialists to keep you and me in chains!

Do I have to give the order?

All of you know how to conduct your own affairs... keep your own counsel, make your own decisions.

You are not cattle... don't allow yourselves to be treated as such!

Yeah!

We need to smash the chains that bind us.

That's enough. That's enough!

All right, lads, break this up.

Come on, move it. I said... move it!

Nothing to see, move along. Move along.

Move along. Move along.

Let's do this.

Hurry. We have to go. We have to go. Come on. This way.

Go on.

Keep alert, Murdoch, we're inside the belly of the beast.

Emma, are you all right?

They charged us... right in the middle of my speech.

They just want to oppress the voice of the people.

Even in Canada?

Especially in Canada.

Miss Goldman, are you all right? Yes, I'm all right.

I'll make you a cup of tea. You do that.

I'll get you something stronger.

If you're approached by this man...

His name is Turner, he's a reporter for the Gazette.

Reporter! Ha-ha!

His real name is...

His real name is...

Allen Clegg.

Mr Clegg.

I'm on official American Government business. So stay out of my way.

Mr Clegg, what are you doing here?

The same as you... infiltrate this vermin, find out what they're up to.

And what are they up to? Fomenting dissent.

Were any of these people involved in the market bombing? I don't know.

Miss Goldman wasn't... I can't speak for the Toronto faction.

But I know what these types are capable of. Types?

You remember Haymarket? Chicago, Illinois... eight dead officers of the law, men like yourself.

What no-one mentions about Haymarket is, those eight dead officers were accidentally sh*t by their fellow men.

The Anarchists lit the fuse... they still d*ed doing their duty.

You best not do anything to expose me.

One question, Mr Clegg... how is it that you are here without the invitation of the Canadian Government?

We don't need Canadian permission.

You most certainly do...

Shh!

My government was granted permission to cross your border by the British Foreign Office.

I believe their authority exceeds yours.

Excuse me.

Damn high hat... I don't trust any of them.

Anarchists? Americans.

Bloody hell. It's what I saw, sir.

Both Agent Meyers and Detective Murdoch were swept up in the crowd.

And then you lost them? That, I did.

Has there been any word on Higgins?

Good news, sir... a couple of the boys went down to pay their respects, had a short chat with him.

He's drifting in and out of consciousness. But he's on the mend?

It would appear so. Good, good.

Hey, you! Copper!

Shouldn't you be out chasing the t*rror1st that did this to my establishment?

The investigation is ongoing, sir.

Yes, I can see it is. How you will be able to apprehend anyone while taking a stroll with a trollop is beyond me.

Sir, I'll advise you to... Trollop?

I do not know who you think...!

Doctor, it's quite all right.

She's a doctor! Now, haven't I seen it all?

You are about to see a lot more...

That's enough! Dr Grace, over here, if you will.

And, you, I advise you to mind your manners in the future, sir.

Do you often handle abuse of that sort?

Policemen often suffer the slings and arrows of the discontented.

So, what do you know about these supposed Anarchists?

Not a great deal... they seem a dastardly lot, though.

Do you know they practise free love?

What? Consider that.

The feeling of being able to do what you want, free of all of society's constraints.

I imagine that would take a degree of self-confidence.

What would you do... if there was no-one in authority to say what was or wasn't proper?

Oh, I... I'm an officer of the law, Dr Grace.

I don't think in such terms. Certainly.

But as a writer, I would have thought you in possession of a more daring soul.

They call themselves the Apaches.

Who? Who does? The French avant garde.

Their music is so progressive, it takes you to the most sensual places.

Before you even know it, your body is moving, undulating, writhing...

Go on.

It's hard to explain. You should come with me some time.

There's a group from New York that comes here from time to time.

Really? Where is this, at Massey Hall, or...?

Ha! Erm, hardly.

They play in dark, mysterious places.

Mmm.

I agree with Nellie Bly, from the New York World.

You're a modern Joan of Arc. Oh, Mr Pierce, really!

Your followers in Toronto, especially myself, are honoured you're here... to listen to you speak, it's as if you wield the sword of truth.

I tell Emma that sometimes, she needs to wield something more than words.

The police come at us, all we do is run.

You're a firebrand, Alec. Well, what good are words, when they fall on deaf ears? Sometimes, raw power is the only thing people listen to.

And sometimes, v*olence only serves to obscure the message.

And who are you, sir?

Another admirer, Miss Goldman.

He was at the rally. He and his friend were almost arrested.

And what do you think?

Words are the only weapons that matter.

Are you a pacifist?

Well, I won't strike first, but I'll certainly strike back.

Then you're on our side.

The government strikes the common man... we're fighting back.

A fist in the face deserves two back, does it not, Mr Clegg?

You're damn right.

Madam, if you wish to try on the merchandise, please consult me.

Sorry, sir.

I couldn't fail to see the damage... was your building affected?

Thankfully, no. Have they caught the culprits?

Not as far as I know.

You must be a brave man. Aren't you worried about future att*cks?

Of course not.

Constable!

How can I help you?

Actually, I was wondering if I could...

Here.

Try this.

Actually, sir, that's my on-duty, er, helmet, I'm required to...

Well, doesn't that look smashing? Mmm.

Indeed, it does. I'm sure I couldn't afford it. Of course you could.

I am having a moving sale.

In three weeks, Chez Lyon will be in a much grander and safer place.

Perhaps you'd like to attend our opening soiree?

What were you doing there?

I was trying to determine if he had any useful information.

That's my job, not yours.

Hmm! What's so funny?

Perhaps it was that fiery temper that attracted Mr Green.

Excuse me? The owner of the hat shop.

He was immune to my charms, but certainly not to yours.

That was quite a commotion, the... market bombing. It was.

Was it a brave man or a coward who did it?

I don't think I would know.

Is he among us? I really have no idea.

But I can understand the anger.

When the government won't listen, a reaction is inevitable.

Fortunately, I don't want to change the government, I just want the day when it no longer exists.

That's an ideal I can't pretend to understand. Then why are you here?

Miss Goldman has some very good ideas.

She certainly does. Although...

I can't pretend to share her faith in my fellow man.

When government makes men's decisions, tells them what they can and cannot do, then how can we ever know the true potential of what people... not just men... are capable of?

People... are capable of good and evil in equal measure.

Unfortunately, that much is true.

I spoke to a contact of mine at the Municipal Records Office.

Part of good policing, Dr Grace, is to build a network of sources, and she told me something very interesting.

She? Well, it's, er, good, er, having a network of... is good for a variety of things.

Our hat shop owner will be disappointed to hear that.

It appears that Mr Green is moving into a new establishment.

Didn't we know that already?

The building to which he is moving is owned by Mr Howard Decker, who owned the block of stores that Mr Milne's shop was in.

And what does that mean?

Well, it's an interesting coincidence.

So, what should we do with this, Constable Crabtree?

Well, I'll submit these findings to Detective Murdoch, of course.

Of course. Well, what would you have me do?

He who hesitates is lost, George, but I would imagine if you were able to solve this puzzle on your own, it would look good on you.

Anarcho-syndicalism is a workable approach.

It treads a similar path as Marxism, I fear.

It's no more than a refinement of trade unionism.

Whatever you're saying...

These people are harmless. They're just intellectuals.

Ha-ha!

Those are the ones I worry about the most.

Intellectuals are the most dangerous of all.

They're just young people with their hearts in the right place... even if their minds aren't.

Have you seen Agent Clegg?

I haven't, actually. Well, as far as I'm concerned, all of this Anarchist thr*at is merely American paranoia.

Don't you read the newspapers, Murdoch? These people are dangerous.

Anarchism is a global movement that wants to topple our civilization.

Well, I don't think these people are part of it.

What happened?

Sure you wouldn't like to reconsider your assessment?

Bastards got what they deserved.

Push me into the wall. What?

Inspector, shove me!

Inspector, shove me! Come here!

Agh!

I need to talk to you. About what?

Agh... Shut up!

Allen Clegg, sir.

The American agent? What about him?

I said, shut up!

He's also infiltrated the Anarchists.

I've been keeping my eye on him.

He wasn't with us when this b*mb went off.

You think Clegg's got something to do with this?

I don't know, sir, but you need to find out.

Away you go, you scoundrel!

And you're lucky I don't throw your arse in jail!

I hear you've released Wallace.

Bloody communist. I don't fancy feeding him any more free lunches.

Mmm. Have you heard anything from Murdoch yet?

No. Undercover?! I must say, I admire the man's initiative.

Well, what do you think, Brackenreid?

Well, two distinct bombs, sir. Could mean two distinct bombers.

So is Murdoch barking up the wrong tree?

We don't know that yet. Hmm.

You should lay charges against that policeman.

I would have come to your aid, but I was injured myself...

I got struck by a truncheon. Are you all right?

Er, I'm not sure, actually. Here.

Could I have a word with you, Mr Clegg?

Where were you at the time of the expl*si*n?

That's classified.

Mr Clegg, of everyone here, you are the one who stands to gain the most if v*olence were to break out.

You're walking on very thin ice here, Murdoch.

As are you. One word from me and your cover is blown.

If you interfere with my mission, I'll...

Are you all right? Did you see?

Two sticks of dynamite makes a hell of a bang.

You didn't? Yes... the factory where you were speaking.

What were you thinking? They won't even let me speak freely... what happens from now on?!

They will listen, see we're serious about change.

No, they will hunt us all down, put us behind bars. It was stupid!

Was anyone k*lled or injured? Not that I know of.

Well, at least that's something. v*olence will not help our cause.

Not here, not now!

You did the right thing, she's just being emotional. Come on.

I have to get out of here. That man knows me.

I'll handle it.

Hey. Who are you? Albert Wallace... communist.

But I'm here to join the cause.

Any news, George?

Mr Decker's building has been slated for demolition.

Shame it wasn't a bigger expl*si*n then!

It hospitalised my friend, it was plenty big enough.

I'm sorry, that was a foolish thing to say.

Dr Grace, look at this.

There are numerous law suits against Mr Decker, all filed by Peter Milne.

It would appear that Mr Milne had no intention of moving.

So Mr Decker felt compelled to force him to leave?

But why destroy his own building?

Perhaps there were bigger rewards with his building demolished?

The expl*si*n outside the factory?

I've yet to determine how he might benefit from that.

A distraction, perhaps. Mmm.

Make sure you keep Pierce here. Got it.

You!

That man there, he's a police officer!

He's right. He's right! There's a snake in our midst!

Toronto Constabulary. Mr Pierce, you're under arrest.

Let go of him! Emma, don't get involved. You're too important.

Help me.

I can't.

You stand by your earlier statement? I do.

I bombed the factory.

People could have been k*lled. People are always k*lled.

Governments send men into w*r without regard to their safety.

They take no responsibility for our lives... why should I for theirs?

University of Toronto, King's College... you were an intelligent young man.

I AM an intelligent young man.

Then why do this?

For Emma.

She's turned her back on you. She'll help me.

I know she will. I am a soldier.

I know she will come for me. No.

No, she won't. This is your crime, and yours alone.

What will happen to me?

Two bombings. You'll likely spend a great deal of time behind bars.

I didn't do the first one, I swear. Only the second.

Who did the first bombing? I don't know, I honestly don't know.

He told me it would impress her. Who told you that?

Mr Clegg.

Is it possible then that Clegg was responsible for the first bombing?

I wouldn't put it past him. Sirs...

What is it, Constable? We're busy here. Go ahead, George.

I've discovered something at City Hall that I believe is of interest.

Uh-huh. So what is it?

Well, pardon me, sir, but this is for Detective Murdoch.

Well, this is very interesting, George. I thought so, too, sir.

What's amusing? The Anarchists may have been right all along.

I'm sorry, sir? It appears you've stumbled onto a capitalist plot.

What is it, George?

I've prepared the evidence for your interrogation of Mr Decker, sir.

Ah. I won't be needing it. Sir?

You'll be doing it, George. Me? Why, yes.

You've gotten the case this far. See it through to its conclusion.

Are you certain, sir? Mm-hmm.

Yes.

Sir, do you have any pointers you'd care to share with me, tricks of the trade, as it were?

Let him know, with all assurance, that you think him guilty.

Well, do you, George... think he's guilty?

What do you feel in your gut? I believe he did it, sir.

Then it's his job to convince you otherwise.

Off you go, George.

I am a busy man. I will try to be brief.

Does this look familiar?

I can't say that it does. That's curious.

This pipe was manufactured by a company you own in Hamilton.

I'm not familiar with the day-to-day operations of all my holdings.

Of course... a man of your station wouldn't know the nitty-gritty...

Doctor Grace. Detective Murdoch.

Just seeing how George is doing.

George? '..Would you be surprised if I told you' that this pipe was one of the components used in a b*mb used on Mr Milne's establishment? You're not suggesting... What, sir?

While it may be Milne's store, he is merely a tenant.

I wouldn't blow up my own building.

Really? Because according to Municipal Records, your building has been slated for demolition for some time.

Proceedings were being held up by a number of legal briefs signed by Mr Milne.

He was a nuisance. He would be gone by the end of the year.

I could wait. I don't think you could, sir.

This is an agreement of sale. Do you recognise it?

No.

That is a bald-faced lie... this is an agreement to sell your land to the Dominion Bank, who offered well above market value for your property.

It was to be the site of their new head office. Do you deny that?

Er...

Go on, George. The sale was about to expire.

You knew Milne's refusal to leave would scotch the deal... hence you lanced the boil.

Do you deny THAT?

Good bit of detecting, George. Thank you, sir.

Higgins! Good to see you, Henry! How are you faring?

I'm well, George. I must admit, my faculties are somewhat scrambled.

Er, back to normal then?!

It was a real page-turner, George. What's that?

I found your book to be a real page-turner... kept me up all night.

Well, thank you, Henry.

You should start another one.

You know, I think I will. The muse has struck me.

I'm thinking of a female detective, wise in the ways of postmortem science...

Have you heard the news? What news?

Michael Decker will be spending a long time behind bars. I saw.

You saw? You were watching me?

I, er, passed by while you were conducting your interrogation, I may have glanced in.

You presented yourself quite forcefully.

Well, Mr Decker's b*mb nearly cost my friend Henry his life.

How is he faring? Well, thank you.

And thank you, Dr Grace, for your stalwart support.

Oh, that's not necessary, George.

That's if you don't mind me calling you that?

That would be fine, Doctor Grace.

Emily. Excuse me?

My name is Emily.

Rival.

Excuse me? The name Emily, it means rival. It does.

It also means to excel.

A female becoming a doctor, and at such a young age.

Hardly matches putting a criminal behind bars.

Yes, no, I suppose not!

Well, I should go. Good day.

I must say, I am... pleased that you have gained a measure of self-confidence.

Bidding us farewell, Mr Clegg? I could help with your bags.

I don't appreciate your tone.

I doubt the second b*mb would have occurred without your encouragement.

Ah, yes, the all-powerful word.

Young Mr Pierce will spend the rest of his days behind bars.

I hold you responsible...

I don't give a devil what you think... I've done my duty.

The American State Department has cancelled President McKinley's visit.

Let's go, Mr Clegg. Of course.

I and my new lady friend Emma Goldman have a train to catch.

It'll be a damn long time before you see an American President on foreign soil.

We'll keep our own safe, thank you.

It's my feeling you make your own problems.

We're God's own country, and we'll take our own counsel.