12x04 - Murdoch Without Borders

[bunniefuu]

[Hubbub]

Morning, Murdoch.

Standing room only, I'm afraid.

Must be a result of this new Immigration Act?

It's been a steady stream all morning.

Listen to that incessant chatter; it's worse than Italian.

Still, good to see British order being implemented.

This must be him.

James McBride.

From the Ministry of the Interior.

He may be cleaning up the city, but he's a right royal pain in the...

Inspector.

We are running out of space.

I'll need you to open up the back cells.

Bloody hell, how many more are you anticipating?

We will be finished once every name is struck from this list.

Now, if you would.

Follow me.

What are they doing, sir?

And why are they all Greek?

Any immigrant charged with a crime is eligible for deportation.

I gather these men all have criminal records.

So what, they'll all get sent back to Greece?

I suppose so.

Although it is strange that they all seem to be of the same nationality.

I'm afraid I can't give you an exact deportation date, but we will work through it efficiently.

I trust I can expect your full cooperation.

Of course.

So, sir.

What happens with them when they get back to Greece?

Oh, who bloody cares, Crabtree?

They're criminals.

Our main concern is removing them from Canadian soil.

The government's responsibility ends there.

Now if you'll excuse me.

I should get back to it as well, sir.

Inspector!

Athos?

What are you doing in here?

Please, I did nothing!

I'll take him, Constable.

Come here.

Were you charged with a crime?

Never.

You're the finest carpenter I've ever seen.

Margaret still talks about that bloody buffet that you built us.

Inspector, this is a mistake.

Clear off and keep your head down.

Thank you.

Just because you're out of here, doesn't mean you're out of trouble.

Come on.

I'll walk you out.

This way.

The night watchman startled somebody who ran off, but he said he was pushing a wheelbarrow with something in it that might have been a body.

What might have been a body?

He was too scared to check, sir.

Help me unroll it.

[Grunting]

My God.

Isn't that...

Mr.

McBride.

The Immigration Officer.

Significant trauma to the front of the skull.

There appears to be some bruising under the right eye, as well.

It's the list of deportees.

The man kept impeccable notes.

There appear to be some additional defensive wounds.

I won't be certain until I can get him to the morgue.

So do you suppose he was being delivered or being taken away?

Perhaps Mr.

Copley can help answer that.

George, stay with Miss Hart until the morgue wagon arrives.

Sir.

Gentlemen, if you'd move along, we'll need to talk to everybody shortly.

You say that he was rolled up in a rug?

Presumably to be transported in the wheelbarrow.

Barbaric.

One of those immigrants k*lled him, obviously.

What was your relationship to Mr.

McBride?

I knew of him, but we hadn't actually met until Frank hired him.

Frank?

Oliver.

The Minister of the Interior?

Yes.

The architect of this Immigration Act.

Frank and I are old friends.

In fact, I'll be saying a few words after his speech on Saturday.

Bring the family, show your support.

Is it possible that Mr.

McBride came searching for deportees?

Do you know who I am?

Copley Construction built this city...

by Canadians, for Canadians.

I don't hire people that aren't part of the union.

[Banging on table]

Eliza, what part of 'knock before entering' don't you understand?

Men are talking here.

[Foreign accent]: Excuse me, Mr.

Copley.

I thought you wanted me to empty the ashtrays.

Later.

Come back later.

When did you last see Mr.

McBride?

Quite a while.

But I do know that he went to see Andrew Palmer yesterday.

And who is that?

He calls himself a construction man, but he's a huckster.

Couldn't build a dollhouse.

How do you know he went there?

My union representative, Paul Scotch, had a meeting.

He saw McBride.

What were you doing at Mr.

Palmer's office?

Trying to convince him to do the right thing, hire some of my men for the Malvern Collegiate job.

He refused, of course.

Yes, I read about that.

It's quite the undertaking, from what I understand.

It'll be the largest school the city's seen.

Damn thing probably won't even stay upright, if he ever does finish it.

And you said he won't use union workers?

He's hiring immigrants.

It was the only way he could keep costs low enough to scrape a bid together.

The man is shameless.

No sense of brotherhood.

I see.

And would you happen to know what Mr.

McBride was doing there?

Looking for more people to toss out of the country, would be my guess.

He showed me a list of names.

Said he wanted the addresses of all my workers who were on it.

And you gave them to him?

Names.

What was I supposed to do?

I can't fight the law.

Might this have been the list?

Yeah, this is it.

Three quarters of the names on here were my men.

Hmm.

And I take it construction was to commence shortly?

Two damn days.

Now I have to find enough labourers with the right skills who are willing to work for less than union wages.

Why not simply go through the unions?

There are maybe three contractors in the city who can afford to use unions.

The rest of us get the small time jobs, the crumbs.

I finally found a way to get the city's foot off my neck, and this happens.

It seems to me you were looking to prove a point by securing this contract.

I was looking to level the playing field.

If I make a little money along the way, all the better.

Besides, these men get a chance to feed their families.

Is that so wrong?

Do you know where Mr.

McBride went after he left here?

Probably over to Carlton where the Greeks live.

He left with the addresses, like I said.

And what did you do at that time?

Me?

I was right here, trying to figure out a way to dig myself out of this mess.

Alright, next.

Next.

Retrace Mr.

McBride's steps after he left Mr.

Palmer's office.

There's a good chance he went to the Greek part of town immediately afterwards.

Sir.

If Palmer's telling the truth, McBride was very much alive when he left his office.

Heading off to the land of fish and phyllo, are you?

You'll be able to practice more of that Greek that you picked up yesterday.

You almost had it.

I'll see if Miss Hart has completed her post-mortem.

I'll join you.

I believe it's filo, sir.

Fish and filo.

Ah, Detective, I'm afraid I'll be needing that.

The philosopher's tongue.

Now, do you have a special interest in Hellenic or all Indo-European languages?

What?

No.

Watts, have you not noticed our cells are full of Greek men?

Actually I was speaking to a few of them earlier and they were quite distraught.

This whole concept of borders has always been puzzling to me.

Wait, you speak Greek?

A few simple phrases.

Well, that's wonderful.

I have to go down to Greektown right now for the McBride case.

Maybe you'd come with me?

I suppose I could provide some assistance.

Have you eaten?

Eaten?

The blow crushed his skull, k*lling him instantly.

The fragmentation indicates a heavy object was used, with at least two sharp corners.

And the bruising on his face?

Consistent with being punched.

So he most likely fought with his attacker.

The wounds on his hands would suggest a struggle, but it is difficult to determine whether they were sustained before or during the m*rder.

Must have been during.

He was fine when he came to the Station.

And the time of death?

Just a few hours before he was found, at most.

He hadn't been there very long.

So a rough timeline would have him leaving Palmer's, going to Greektown, and then to wherever he was m*rder*d.

We'll know more once George gets back.

Why wait?

We can handle the Athenians ourselves.

Come on.

Miss Hart.

Miss Hart.

[George attempting to speak Greek]

Are you eating again?

A minute ago you were face and eyes into a souvlaki.

Yes, but this is dessert.

Baklava.

Would you care for a nibble?

No.

We're supposed to be finding out where McBride went.

Nobody will talk to me.

Right.

Well, he was here for a while to make arrests but then left to go to the hospital.

How did you find that out?

Nostimo.

Food is an important part of this culture.

You eat, you talk, you learn things.

Are you quite sure you don't want one?

Two.

No, this one here.

And how has it been feeling?

It's all right?

Open your mouth and say 'ah'.

Ah.

Very good.

He'll need his tonsils out.

Oh, what a surprise!

Dr.

Ogden.

I should get accustomed to seeing you working amongst the living, I suppose.

What are you two doing here?

You're not part of this deportation business, I hope.

In a roundabout way.

The man in charge of the sweep, James McBride...

he was found dead last night.

Apparently he was here shortly beforehand.

Have either of you seen him?

I did.

He got into a physical altercation with someone down the hall.

Nurse Sullivan?

He fought with a patient?

A visitor, actually.

The man who assaulted Mr.

McBride ran out before anyone could stop him.

Did you treat McBride?

No, he refused.

Said he had more patients to assess.

Could you identify the assailant?

Oh, I'm not sure.

I do remember he had an accent, though.

But he was visiting someone in room ten.

I could check the visitor's log.

Perfect notes.

I'd half expect him to detail his own m*rder.

That would make things much easier.

So, these names...

it could be the first person who was crossed off, or the last person who isn't.

Or a relative of someone who was arrested, or was about to be arrested.

Needle in a haystack, then.

As usual.

Excellent.

Inspector!

Oh, the vultures are here to pick the bones clean.

Any comments on the McBride m*rder?

None whatsoever, Miss Cherry.

Do you believe a Greek person was involved?

Are the words "none whatsoever" in a language you don't understand?

Inspector!

How good to see you.

Athos Rella, Detective Murdoch.

Athos is the master carpenter who made our cabinetry.

Oh yes, I recall Mrs.

Brackenreid mentioning the buffet you made several times.

We need some information on the man, McBride.

Did you hear anything?

I have.

Terrible.

Do you know if anyone on this list could be involved in the m*rder?

You think a Greek did this?

Well, most of the names here are Greek.

If you could have a look.

I know many of these men, but I don't believe any could do what you say.

We were all afraid and angry at him for doing this to us, but I cannot imagine it.

If you do hear anything, let us know.

Of course.

Inspector, my wife and I, we are so grateful.

Because of you, we can stay.

Please, you must come over for dinner...

That's fine, just fine.

Stay out of trouble.

Sir?

Look, I spared him from the cells.

Margaret would have my guts for garters if he'd been shipped.

Of course.

It burns!

It burns!

Please, please help.

Nurse Sullivan, may I be of assistance?

[Sighing]

I've been instructed not to treat him.

What?

Instructed by whom?

From the government.

Something about the new immigration laws.

My leg.

Please.

I'm Dr.

Julia Ogden.

What is your name?

Jakub.

Jakub Czarnecki.

Please...

Just one moment.

These are the early stages of gangrene.

They won't let him be admitted.

Dr.

Forbes, why are we not helping this man?

He's scheduled to be deported.

Have you examined him?

His leg may need to be amputated.

If he were a patient, we might be able to do something.

But all we can do is keep him comfortable until they come for him.

Has he committed a crime?

Apparently his wound qualifies him as a burden on the country, which is enough to deport him.

That's all I've been told.

It had to have been a crime of opportunity.

Why?

The idea that k*lling McBride would stop the deportations makes no sense.

The law is the law, if he's alive or dead.

So it was done in a rage.

That's the clearest line.

Though Palmer's alibi is he doesn't have an alibi.

I tell you something, Murdoch, I don't much care for oily fish, but this strained yogurt...

excellent.

[Knocking]

Sirs.

I think we're onto something.

Go on.

Well, after Mr.

McBride left the Greek section, he went to the hospital, where he and another man were involved in a physical altercation.

The man's father is a patient, and also on the deportation list.

Threats were made.

Do you have this man's name?

I do.

I assume he's Greek, sir.

It's Athos Rella.

Perhaps there's more than one?

I don't believe this.

Sir.

This is what you get when you help someone, Murdoch.

My mother always said I was too much of a soft touch.

Sir, we don't yet know where Athos was at the time of the m*rder.

I let the man out of jail, and he bloody kills someone.

What were you thinking, ya big Yorkshire pillock.

Sir, I'm having him brought in now.

We need to resolve this quickly.

My neck could be on the chopping block if this ever gets out.

Never.

I could never do that.

You were seen fighting at the hospital shortly before he was m*rder*d.

It wasn't me.

I was at the hospital visiting my father.

He is very ill.

And did you as*ault James McBride?

No.

That's enough, Athos.

The truth.

Just tell us what happened.

Maybe we can help you.

I saw him.

There you are.

Go on.

But there was no fight.

There was no altercation of any kind?

Look, I once put the boots to a man who threatened to take my father away.

Nobody can blame you for that.

Just tell us.

I have told you.

You fought with him and then you k*lled him.

No!

Right.

Where did you go after the hospital?

Home.

To my wife.

And she can attest to this?

Yes, she can.

Of course your wife would lie for you.

I could arrest you both, have you deported.

Shall we try that?

Wait, please...

What's that?

Nothing, I was working...

ah!

Looks like you've been in a fight.

[Knocking]

What would you recommend as a post-op?

Medication has been delayed...

Dr.

Ogden?

I was hoping to discuss Jakub Czarnecki.

Hasn't he been sent back?

Not yet.

I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do.

We were given a direct order from a government agency.

His leg is gangrenous.

His life is in danger.

They have hospitals in Poland.

He could die in transport, if he even makes it that far!

If you think I'm pleased about this, Dr.

Ogden, let me disabuse you of that notion.

But we are required to follow the law.

Now, that's an end to it.

Now please.

You should run for office.

Your skills are obviously being wasted here.

Everything all right?

What sort of country are we becoming that we just throw away people who are different from us?

The man, Frank Oliver, who designed the law, is not the most enlightened of thinkers.

And now this Polish man may die simply because he wasn't born here.

There's nothing you can do?

Dr.

Forbes has specifically instructed me not to treat him.

"We are required to follow the law".

I understand.

But there's nothing you can do beyond that?

Are you advising me to disobey my superior?

As a police officer, I would never advise that, but a man may die.

You do have a rebellious spirit buried in there, don't you?

[Both laughing]

Oh.

Doctor.

How are you feeling?

Not as well as I should with two beautiful women in the room.

Nurse?

In Poland, I was the best Polonez dancer in Malbork, you know.

Perhaps when this is over, you will let me show you.

Excuse us for a moment.

What is he doing here?

I'm going to operate.

I'll need your help.

We could be permanently stricken from the register if we get caught.

And if we do nothing, he may die.

If it comes to it, I'll say I ordered you to assist me.

Everything all right, George?

Sir.

The latest edition of the Telegraph just came out.

Louise Cherry's published a new article.

Oh.

Oh...

She knows the Inspector let that chap out of jail.

"The Inspector has blood on his hands...

" "A Greek intruder cut down one of the King's noble subjects...

" "Inspector Bumblereid?" Murdoch!

I just spoke to the Board of Control.

They made it very clear that I need to fix my mistake immediately.

We're doing all we can, sir.

Not quickly enough.

I want this case closed.

I want Athos charged.

But we don't have evidence yet.

He att*cked McBride, he had motivation...

it's got to be him.

Sir...

My job's at stake here, Murdoch.

If you can't get a confession, I will.

Sit.

Have you spoken to my wife?

Trust me when I tell you I've heard enough lies to last me a lifetime.

I said sit.

What do you want from me?

Say it.

No.

You k*lled him.

I did not.

You fought with him at the hospital, you followed him, and you k*lled him.

Why would I?

You let me leave.

I was free.

I would not risk going back to Greece and leaving my family.

You found out that McBride was going to deport your father and you att*cked him.

Blind rage.

My father will die soon.

I want to be with him when it happens.

In anger, in fear, I hit that man, and I will always regret it.

But that was the end of it.

The fact is, Athos, I simply don't believe you.

You talk about family.

Because of what you've done, I could lose my job.

That puts my people, my family, at risk.

And you don't want to know how far I'll go to protect them.

So you would have me lie to save yourself?

You remind me of the Elliniki Astinomia in Greece.

They are not police.

They are thugs.

What did you just call me?

You k*lled an innocent man.

You followed him, and you bashed his head in.

Admit it.

No!

Confess to the k*lling of James McBride.

Is this why you became a police officer?

To put innocent people in jail?

Give me the confession.

I will sign whatever you want.

Just please...

keep my family safe.

It wasn't him.

Sir?

Trust me.

We need to look elsewhere.

Damn that Louise Cherry for putting us in this position.

Yes.

I've been thinking, sir...

the wording she uses is particularly schismatic.

Almost as though she were furthering an agenda.

She's a bloody opportunist, Murdoch.

Thought you might like to know, rioting in Greektown.

Apparently there are injuries.

Detective...

I'll call for an ambulance.

Murdoch.

Look at that.

We need to contain this.

Bring in Louise Cherry before she adds more fuel to the bloody fire.

Sir.

Gentlemen.

I've been summoned.

Again.

We have some questions, Miss Cherry.

A few comments, as well.

Have a seat.

May I take notes?

For what purpose?

I am a journalist.

This is part of an ongoing police investigation, so no, you may not.

How may I help?

You can start by issuing an apology.

Was there something inaccurate about my reporting?

"Inspector Bumblereid?" I'd say that's pretty bloody inaccurate, as well as being a personal att*ck.

Slanderous.

Your decision cost a man his life.

Athos Rella did not k*ll James McBride.

No?

Who did?

Where did you get the information to write your story, Miss Cherry?

I have no intention of revealing my sources.

We've been down this road before, if I'm not mistaken.

This journalism, as you call it, is inflammatory, and could be seen as a call to incite v*olence.

Which is precisely what happened this afternoon.

I was reporting the truth, Inspector.

Perhaps if you hadn't let an unhinged man out of jail because he built your kitchen cabinets, we wouldn't be in this situation.

Who put you up to it?

I beg your pardon?

Did someone influence your decision to write this article?

Because the wording seems very divisive.

Detective, the citizens of Toronto, and this country, are being overrun by foreigners.

They're changing the very fabric of our society as we speak.

Do you know how many Greek men in this city have been charged with a crime?

I can't say I know or care.

One in three.

Don't you find that disturbing?

Sounds like fabricated news to me.

Well, you'll just have to read my next article.

I do go into some detail.

Is there anything else?

You're free to go.

Good.

But I will remind you, Miss Cherry, to be careful what you choose to write about in the future.

If you remember what happened the last time you were caught printing falsehoods.

As I recall, I was given a better job and my own byline.

Just give me the tiniest reason to throw her back in jail, Murdoch.

I'm begging you.

I'm certain that reason will present itself, sir.

Everything's going to be fine, Mr.

Czarnecki.

I should have been more careful that day.

If only I had heard my friends calling for me to move...

It's not your fault.

Injuries and accidents happen.

Luckily, medicine will ensure you don't need to lose your life.

Yes, yes, of course.

I just...

I am afraid.

Dr.

Ogden will take very good care of you.

The pain will soon be gone.

Thank you.

Thank you both.

Are we ready?

Let's begin.

What on earth are you two doing?

Dr.

Dixon, I can explain...

Ha!

This is grounds for dismissal.

You were explicitly instructed not to treat this man.

I'm especially surprised at you, Nurse Sullivan.

She's not at fault.

I gave her no choice.

That is irrelevant.

I'll be reporting this to Dr.

Forbes immediately.

Please.

Wait.

We're trying to save this man's life.

He could die an agonizing death.

This hospital is not a vehicle for your personal crusades, Dr.

Ogden.

Now, I understand because of your gender, your emotions may have clouded your judgment...

This has nothing to do with my emotions, or my gender.

I took a vow...

we took a vow...

This man is not our responsibility.

Everyone who requires medical attention is our responsibility, Dr.

Dixon.

I became a surgeon to save lives.

Why did you?

Help us.

You must be joking.

Not at all.

You're one of the most capable surgeons in our class.

Yes, and I would like to stay one.

You don't think a human life is more important than the law?

Oh, George.

Sir?

I found it highly irregular that the majority of the men being deported were Greek, and even stranger that most of them worked for Andrew Palmer.

Look at this.

All of these arrests were made during a two-week period, just prior to the Immigration Act coming into effect.

I see.

Actually, I don't really see, sir.

What does that mean?

Well...

I'm not certain, but the charges were almost exclusively misdemeanors.

That, coupled with the strange timeline, could mean something.

So what do we do next?

One woman in particular, an Anne McKinnon, was involved in five separate solicitation cases, all within a two-day period.

Well, perhaps she was just popular with the lads, sir.

Yes, but she was never charged or arrested.

Yet all of the men were.

Hm.

Hm!

Anne McKinnon?

Toronto Constabulary.

What is it?

I've got things that need doing.

You were recently involved in several arrests involving Greek men.

I don't ask where they come from, so I couldn't tell you.

The Greek accent usually gives it away, Miss McKinnon.

Five arrests in two days.

You were named in each of the cases, and yet you were never arrested or charged.

Coppers love me.

What can I say?

I'm a delight.

How do you meet the men that solicit your services?

They usually find me.

We have reason to believe that these arrests are linked to a m*rder.

James McBride.

You may have seen his name in the papers.

I had nothing to do with it.

What do you recall about these arrests?

I was paid well.

More than usual?

By whom?

Not the Greeks, I can tell you that.

Miss McKinnon, unless you'd like to see the inside of our cells, I suggest you stop playing games.

He's a client.

One of my best.

He told me where to find the men, and to just do what I do.

Miss McKinnon, a name, please.

Paul Scotch.

The union leader?

One and the same.

So Scotch and McBride were working together?

Not necessarily.

If Scotch arranged for the arrests because he knew the law was about to pass, that doesn't necessarily mean that McBride knew.

But if he found out after the fact, and confronted Scotch about it...

That could have given Scotch a reason to k*ll him.

It's also plausible that the two men were working together, and Andrew Palmer found out and k*lled McBride.

Mr.

Scotch?

Toronto Constabulary.

Mr.

Scotch?

Uh, sir.

At least this absolves Athos.

Well, sir, it may be more prudent to wait to release him until we've resolved this.

What do you have?

Well, sir, it's possible that Scotch and McBride were working together to arrest and deport all of Palmer's workers in order to force him to hire union workers.

So Palmer found out, and k*lled them.

Potentially.

I suggest we go and have a little chat with Mr.

Palmer.

Sir.

Carry on, lads.

I don't like the way I'm being spoken to here.

Where were you this morning?

I was interviewing more workers at my office.

Which, it turns out, was a waste of time.

Why?

The city withdrew the contract a few hours ago.

Too much bad publicity, they said.

I'm done.

Palmer Construction is sunk.

Not to mention you're also facing the noose.

Bit of a bad day all around.

You won that contract by hiring non-union workers, which angered Mr.

Scotch.

So McBride and Scotch had your workers arrested and deported, thinking it would force you to hire union men.

How did you find out about their plan?

I didn't know anything about it!

In fact, if you want the truth, I doubt they ever had one.

How do you mean?

McBride would never break the law.

The man was a do-gooder, through and through.

I tried paying him off myself on more than one occasion.

You attempted to bribe him?

He was trying to deport my entire work force.

Of course I tried.

But he wouldn't take it?

Not a penny.

Look, I spent years trying to get a contract like this, but I failed every single time because of men like Copley and Scotch.

Now that I finally got one, there's no way I'd risk losing it.

I'm telling you, I didn't k*ll those men.

The infection's begun spreading, but I believe we can contain it.

[Sighing]

Wait.

Have you considered Bromide?

The infection's moving too quickly.

I don't believe so.

I recently came across an older case study by Goldsmith...

he was able to stifle the poisoned section using a combination of an injected and a topical solution.

The risk is too high.

If you're wrong, the infection will continue to spread, and he'll be on a ship back to Poland.

Yes, but if I'm right, we'll be able to save this man's leg and keep him in the country.

That's what you want, isn't it?

Perhaps we should re-examine Mr.

McBride's list.

There may have been arrests for violent crimes that we've missed.

I'll be getting another call from the Board of Control, I just know it.

George?

Where are you lot headed?

Sir, we're going down to the Frank Oliver speech.

There is concern of a possibility of v*olence, given everything that's happened over the last couple of days.

All right, lads, let's move out.

You up for a bit of v*olence, Murdoch?

Not particularly, sir.

Nice change of pace if you ask me.

Get your hat.

This new Act will ensure Canada remains a country for Canadians!

[Cheers and applause]

Canada is a country made up of the King's loyal subjects, and that is the way it will remain for as long as I am alive.

Thank you!

Thank you!

[Cheers and applause]

And now, Harold Copley, one of the great visionary builders of this city.

[Booing]

Traitor!

Turncoat!

Thank you, Minister.

This is, of course, a sad day.

I recently learned of the m*rder of my old friend, Paul Scotch.

This act was no doubt perpetrated by a cowardly immigrant.

These people are not like us, they don't have bloody morals.

They are animals.

Turncoat!

But Copley...

Copley Construction will strive to keep our country pure and consistent with our one true God.

Thank you, and God Bless the King.

[Clamouring]

[Whistling]

Well, this is unusual.

They're mostly union men.

Why are they so angry with Copley?

[Grunting]

Let me go!

Crabtree, bring him here!

What's all this about?

Thought Copley was your employer.

b*st*rd sold us out.

Tried to pay us non-union wages for the Malvern job!

Get him out of here, Crabtree.

[All yelling]

Interesting.

[Knocking]

Mr.

Copley.

A word.

Gentlemen.

Did you catch the k*ller?

We're so close I can almost feel it.

Ah.

You were the next contractor in line to be awarded the Malvern contract, were you not?

A fortunate turn due to unfortunate events, I suppose.

What a horrible debacle this all has been.

Debacle indeed...

almost caused a riot.

It's quite serendipitous, though, isn't it?

Almost unbelievably so.

What are you insinuating?

Bear with me for a moment.

I have a brief tale to relate.

I don't have time for this.

There was a construction tycoon who built half this city, as he was so quick to point out.

He was used to getting everything he wanted and no one dared challenge him for fear of reprisal.

Absurd.

But that all changed when a large project, one of the biggest in the city's history, was awarded to a man that the construction tycoon deemed inferior.

Of course, this infuriated the tycoon, so he and his union man devised a plan to sabotage the project.

They saw the Immigration Act as an opportunity rather than a hindrance.

This is libelous, sir.

Only, the man who was enforcing the law found out about the scheme.

Your implication being?

McBride figured out what you were doing, and you k*lled him.

And Mr.

Scotch learned that you were planning to use non-union labour.

He threatened to expose you, so you strangled him and buried him.

[Laughing]

This is absolutely witless.

I fear for this great city if minds like yours are tasked with protecting its citizens.

You k*lled those men.

Got any proof?

Any evidence?

Anything other than your asinine theory?

Dammit, Eliza, how many times must I tell you...

I'm sorry...

You're fired, you bloody idiot!

Get the hell out of here!

And that goes for you as well.

And rest assured I will do all in my power to have both your jobs.

Your rug.

What?

What about it?

This rug seems to have replaced a much older one.

Oh, for God's sake.

What are you on about now?

Mr.

McBride was found rolled up in a rug and I would wager that it was exactly the size of the one that you recently replaced.

You k*lled him here.

You tried to dispose of the body, ran into the night watchman, and had to abandon it.

You call that evidence?

I'm calling the Chief Constable personally.

I built MacMillan tower and I will ruin the both of you.

[Knocking]

Should I put this back on the shelf before I go, Mr.

Copley?

It was in a closet under a blanket.

Very messy.

Care to revise your story?

[Rhythmic chanting]

Gentlemen, this is the man who tried to have you sent back to Greece.

Constable.

Enjoy getting acquainted.

What are you looking at, you filthy mugs?

You keep your bloody hands off of me.

Keep your bloody hands off of me!

[Knocking]

Thank you for finding the truth.

Athos, I...

Yes.

Go on.

I would be honoured if you'd come over for dinner tonight with your wife.

On one condition.

Name it.

We drink Greek wine.

I won't fight you on that.

The men in the cells...

what will happen to them?

To us?

The Minister of the Interior has decided to delay the deportations.

They'll all be released until this is resolved.

And then?

I'm afraid I don't know.

Mr.

Rella, the law isn't always an accurate measure of a society.

Then what is?

You saved me, Doctor.

I wish I could repay you somehow.

Perhaps, when you're fully recovered, my husband and I will join you and Nurse Sullivan for a night of dancing.

Oh, I would like that very much.

Your husband is a very fortunate man.

Do widzenia, my dear.

Goodbye, my lovely.

Goodbye.

He'll live to dance another day, won't he?

Sooner than he should, I'm sure.

Thank you for helping him.

And me.

There's no need for that, Julia.

You simply reminded me of what my job is.

It's well done.