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[suspenseful music]
♪ ♪
[sly orchestral music]
♪ ♪
- Give me a second, Higgins.
I have to put a call in to the station.
It's fantastic having all these boxes all over the place.
Now we can communicate--
- Mind yourself, lad.
- Now we can communicate
from almost anywhere in the city.
Imagine one day, they make a telephone so small
that you could carry it around with you.
- It would never work.
I mean, you'd be dragging 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!
[explosion]
[people screaming]
I never saw it coming, sir.
- You couldn't have.
- How's Henry?
- He'll be right as rain.
- I should be assisting Detective Murdoch.
- Stay where you are, Crabtree.
Detective Murdoch will be fine.
Wesley, make sure Crabtree and Higgins
get to Toronto General straightaway.
Right, everybody off the street, please.
There's nothing to see.
Move along, please, sir.
- This is a disaster.
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.
Now, please get off the street so we can continue with our job.
- Can you 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.
Now, I've told you once to 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 bomb?
- It seems someone has taken an intense dislike to Mr. Milne.
- Doesn't look like any kind of military ordnance
I've seen before.
- I've yet to locate any insignia
or manufacturer's mark.
- Homemade? - I would say so.
- Quite a powerful device.
- Mm.
- Is it possible that our lads were the intended victims?
- Given the placement of the bomb, sir,
inside of Milne's shop,
I would say that was the intended target.
- But our lads walk that beat every day.
- Well, I suppose anything's possible.
A device like this could kill someone.
- ***.
As soon as you find out the origin of that device,
Murdoch, let me know.
- Yes, sir.
- How are you, lad?
Welcome back.
- Crabtree!
- Crabtree.
- George.
- Crabtree. - Ah, Inspector.
- I admire your dedication to the cause,
but you could have taken a couple of days off.
- No, that's not necessary, sir.
Any word on Higgins?
Is he going to be all right?
- He's well cared for.
- Constable Crabtree? - Ah!
- I heard the news. Are you faring well?
- I'm fine, Dr. Grace, thank you.
To what do I owe the pleasure?
- A favor, Constable Crabtree. - What's that?
- It would be to my great advantage
if I could accompany you on your investigation.
- Why?
- I would love a greater understanding
of how the police do their job.
- Doctor, while I don't doubt you can handle yourself
in any number of situations,
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--
[groans]
- 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.
- I'll tell you this, Detective: I'm not a popular man,
not that it worries me.
- Anyone you're particularly unpopular with?
- The landlord wanted me out.
The neighbors weren't exactly neighborly.
I've 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 doesn't have a friend in the world.
No home to go to either, I've heard.
- And you've complained to the landlord
about his behavior?
- 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 structurally unsound.
I imagine it'll 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 wouldn't be surprised
if he had an illegal still in the back.
- I don't believe that's the case, sir.
It was certainly an explosive device
that caused the damage.
Obviously you two weren't on the best of terms, then.
- 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.
- Mm, almost like a boil that refuses to be lanced.
- Mm.
- Did he have any enemies, then, sir?
- Anyone in his employ, I would imagine.
- Well, anyone else?
- The man that owned that establishment,
Angus Trout.
He had the bad fortune of being in the same business as Milne.
- And?
- Milne drove him out of business,
and poor Trout ended up selling his inventory
for pennies on the dollar.
They had quite a set-to
the day Trout finally shuttered his windows.
The constabulary were called.
From time to time, Trout comes by to hector Milne.
- Really?
And when was the last time this occurred?
- It was yesterday, I believe.
I wasn't here, but it was the talk of the street.
- [laughing]
He lost his whole shop?
- Yes, he did.
- [laughs]
His whole shop.
Shame he wasn't in it at the time.
- A colleague of mine was almost killed in that explosion,
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.
[chuckles]
- Sir, I'm sorry for that outburst.
- Quite all right, George.
It was justified.
- What's all this about?
- I have no idea.
- Is this the man behind the bombing?
- You're damn right. - Quiet, Mr. Trout.
- Step aside, people. - Is he the traitor?
Why did you do it?
- You want to know who the criminal is?
It's Peter Milne.
- Just let us pass.
- Mr. Trout in the interrogation room,
please, George.
And post a guard.
Gentlemen, back to work.
- So has he confessed? - Hmm?
- Named any coconspirators?
- Terrence Meyers.
- Murdoch.
- What might this have to do with our esteemed government?
- Who's the man, hmm?
What's his name?
- His name is Angus Trout.
He's a shopkeeper. I'm questioning him regarding--
- Oh, I'm well aware of what you're questioning him about.
The anarchist attack 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 war on terror.
- You'll have to go a long way to convince me
that Toronto is being besieged by terrorists.
- 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.
Now, this would be something of a coup for us,
as it would be the first trip to foreign soil
by any American president.
- Oh, well, bully for him.
I'll get the missus to make him a nice 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.
- And how does this involve the tribulations
of an unpleasant shopkeeper?
- Well, it speaks to the maturity of the country,
I suppose.
The Americans are already convinced
that our standards of law and order
do not meet theirs.
- Damn Yankees.
Who are they to talk about standards, eh?
Or law and order, for that matter?
They were the ones that went to war with themselves.
- Like it or not, gentlemen,
our government is committed to being the first host country
of 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, hmm?
- Who the bloody hell is Emma Goldman?
- Emma Goldman is a noted American anarchist
and labor organizer.
- 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.
- And do your sources suggest a reason
why Miss Goldman would bomb 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.
- And they attacked more than a shop.
Two of our own were injured.
- That may be a coincidence, sir.
Has Miss Goldman or anyone in her group
taken credit for the attack?
- Gentlemen, whatever the reason for the attack,
it is our duty to eliminate this scourge.
It is our prime minister's opinion
that the anarchist movement is a threat 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,
former employee of Mr. Milne's.
He's a person of interest.
- 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.
If I had my way, I'd string up the lot of them.
- As long as they were guilty, I trust.
- Yes, of course.
So do you think Meyers' suspicions carry any weight?
- They might.
The bomb and its construction does share some similarities
to the device used in the Haymarket attack
in Chicago 13 years ago.
- Eight coppers died that day, didn't they?
Brothers in arms, despite their lineage.
Stay close to Meyers on this, Murdoch.
This is still our investigation.
I don't want him getting his sticky little fingers into it.
- He already has, sir.
Once Ottawa is involved--
- Yes, yes, I know, but...
I don't want a ***-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.
- 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're aware that Emma Goldman is currently--
- [laughs]
An anarchist.
You think I'm an anarchist.
[laughs]
- Are you?
Oh, hardly.
The anarchists are nothing more than disorganized 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 naiveté.
Do you think society could function
without some mechanism of control?
[chuckles]
- 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.
- Hmm.
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 bomb placed?
- Near the cash register.
- Mm. And the bomb'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's 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 *** 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 realize
"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, look sharp.
This could well 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 perhaps a dustman's cap, sir, to cover your nice hair.
- Mm-hmm.
And what about me, Constable Crabtree?
Do I, uh, pass muster?
- Oh, sir, you look like a regular ragman.
No offense. - Excellent.
- May I ask the reason for all this subterfuge?
- Mr. Meyers seems to think
that this is a worthwhile avenue of investigation.
- We will infiltrate this criminal organization
and cut off its head, hmm?
We'll beat them at their own game.
Let's go, Murdoch.
- George, I need you to stick to the task
in case Mr. Meyers' speculations are wrongheaded.
- 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 explosion?
- Sorry, sir. - I was.
See this? - Oh, dear!
- 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!
[crowd yelling]
We need to smash the chains that bind us.
- All right, 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.
Come on. Move along. Move along.
- Come on. Let's do this.
- Hurry. - We have to go.
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 don't want to hear the truth.
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. [chuckles]
His real name is--
both: 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 thing you are:
infiltrating this vermin.
We need to 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,
but I can't speak for the Toronto faction.
But I do know what these types are capable of.
- These types?
- You remember Haymarket.
Chicago, Illinois,
eight dead officers of the law, men like yourself.
- What everyone neglects to mention about Haymarket is,
those eight dead police officers
were accidentally shot by their fellow men.
- At an event where the anarchists lit the fuse.
They still died 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?
- Some good news, sir.
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 terrorist
that did this to my establishment?
- The investigation is ongoing, sir.
- Yes, I can see it is.
Although 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 you are talking to.
- Doctor, please, it's quite all right.
- She's a doctor. Now haven't I seen it all?
- Sir, you are about to see a lot more.
- That's quite enough from both of you.
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?
- As a policeman, we often need to 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 practice free love?
- Huh?
- Consider that:
the feeling of being able to do what you want,
free of all 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 tell you 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 sometime.
There's a group from New York
that comes here from time to time.
- Really? Where is this?
At Massey Hall or...
- [scoffs] Hardly.
They play in dark, mysterious places.
- Mm.
- 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 honored 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
stronger than just mere 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 will listen to.
- And sometimes violence
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.
They needed help.
- 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's been striking the common man repeatedly.
All we're doing is 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 help but notice
the destruction across the street.
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 attacks?
- Of course not.
Constable!
How can I help you?
- Actually, sir, I was wondering if I could--
- Here.
Try this.
- Actually, sir, that's my on-duty helmet.
I'm required to...
- Well, doesn't that look smashing?
- Yes, indeed, it does.
I'm sure I couldn't afford it, though.
- Of course you could.
I am having a moving sale.
Three weeks from now,
Chez Lyon will be in a much grander
and much safer place of business.
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.
- [chuckles] - 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 good-- uh, having a network of--
is good for a variety of things.
- Our hat shop owner will be disappointed to hear that.
- [stammers] - [giggles]
- It appears that Mr. Green
is moving into a new establishment.
- Didn't we know that already?
- Yes, but what we didn't know is that the building
into which he is moving is owned by Mr. Howard Decker.
Now, he's the chap 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.
- [chuckles]
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 threat is merely American paranoia.
- Don't you read the newspapers, Murdoch?
These people are dangerous.
Anarchism is a worldwide movement
that wants nothing more than to topple our civilization.
- Well, I don't think these people are part of it.
[explosion]
[people screaming]
- What happened?
- Sure you wouldn't like to reconsider your assessment?
- *** got what they deserved.
Push me into the wall.
- What?
- Inspector, shove me.
- Come here!
- [grunts]
I need to talk to you.
- About what?
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 bomb went off.
- Do 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 *** in jail!
- I hear you've released Wallace.
- Bloody communist.
I don't fancy feeding him any more free lunches.
- Mm.
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 know, you should lay charges against that policeman.
I would have come to your aid,
but I was injured myself earlier.
I got struck by a truncheon.
- Are you all right?
- I'm not sure, actually.
- Here.
- Could I have a word with you, Mr. Clegg?
Where were you at the time of the explosion?
- That's classified.
- Mr. Clegg, of everyone here,
you're the one who stands to gain the most
if violence 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 ***.
- You didn't.
- Yes, the factory where you were speaking.
- What were you thinking?
They won't even let me speak freely.
What do you think happens from now on?
- Now they will listen.
Now they will see we're serious about change.
- No, now they will hunt us all down,
put us behind bars.
That was stupid!
Was anyone killed or injured?
- Not that I know of.
- Well, at least that's something.
Violence 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 explosion, then.
- The explosion hospitalized 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 lawsuits 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 would he destroy his own building?
- Perhaps there were bigger rewards for Mr. Decker
with his building demolished.
- And the explosion outside the factory?
- I've yet to determine how he might benefit from that.
A distraction, perhaps.
- Mm.
- 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.
- Let the officer take him, Emma.
Don't get involved.
You're too important to the cause.
- Help me.
- I can't.
- You stand by your earlier statement?
- I do.
I bombed the factory.
- People could have been killed.
- People are always killed.
- Governments send men into war 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.
- So 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.
- [chuckles]
- 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.
- Yes, of course not.
A man of your station would hardly be familiar
with the nitty-gritty.
- I should think not. I have interests...
- Dr. 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 bomb
that was built to destroy Mr. Milne's establishment?
- You're not suggesting--
- 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.
Unfortunately for you, 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.
- No, I don't think you could, sir.
This is an agreement of sale.
Do you recognize it?
- No.
- That is a bald-faced lie.
This is an agreement to sell your land
to the Dominion Bank.
They offered you well above market value
to secure your property.
It was to be the site of their new head office.
Do you deny that?
- Uh...
- Go on, George.
- This 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.
- Back to normal, then?
- It was a real page-turner, George.
- What's that?
- Before the explosion, I was gonna tell you.
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
who's 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 passed by while you were conducting
your interrogation.
I may have glanced in.
You presented yourself quite forcefully.
- Well, Mr. Decker's bomb
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, Dr. Grace.
- Emily.
- Excuse me?
- My name is Emily.
- Rival.
- Excuse me?
- The name, "Emily," it means rival.
- It does. It also means to excel.
- Well, that certainly pertains to you:
a female becoming a doctor and at such a young age.
- Hardly matches putting a criminal behind bars.
- Yes, no, I suppose not.
[both chuckle]
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 highly doubt the second bombing
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 hold me responsible for.
I've done my duty.
- The American State Department
has canceled 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.
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