Right this way, folks.
Come on in. Please, find your seats.
And go to the back, please.
Constable Higgins. What have you?
Well, the streetcar made it a stop down the line
before the incident was noted, sir.
And as for the victim, it's a real puzzle, sir.
Indeed.
Doctor, I hear we have something out of the ordinary.
A single gunshot wound to the torso.
I suspect it hit the heart.
Brazen, but hardly odd.
According to Constable Higgins, no one heard the shot.
Ah.
Ah, indeed.
Perhaps he was shot elsewhere.
Given the severity of the wound,
he would have left an impressive blood trail, and there's none.
Hmm.
So if he was shot where he sits...
and no one heard...
A stray bullet.
Some boys shooting at bottles.
Or some unrelated dispute?
A return railway ticket from New York City.
Well, we've given him quite the welcoming.
Something to write home about.
If you find anything else out, Doctor.
As usual.
Henry, impound this streetcar, please.
Yes, sir.
According his business card,
our victim is a Wilbur Delory, Esquire,
539 Gilmore Street, New York.
Have George inquire
with the New York City Police, please.
Yes, sir.
Oh, and, sir, a few riders saw a man in a boater hat
board the car with Mr. Delory, sir.
They were having a friendly conversation by all accounts.
And where is this man?
He got off the car before it left the station, sir.
I'm afraid no one saw his face clearly.
Perhaps he was just seeing Mr. Delory on his way?
Interesting turn of phrase, Henry.
Henry, get this man's description, such as it is,
out on the wire,
and have the men canvas the area
for any reports of gunfire.
Straightaway, sir.
Ah, sir.
As per your request, I've wired New York City Police
about Mr. Delory's information.
Very good, George.
Sir, there's a rather fetching lady waiting for you
in your office.
Oh? I'm not expecting anyone. Who is she?
Well, from the little we spoke,
I gather that you two are acquainted.
- Who is she? - Sir, I haven't the foggiest.
Thank you.
Anna Fulford. My goodness!
Hello, William.
What brings you to Toronto?
I'm on my way to Niagara Falls with my fiancé.
Your fiancé.
Ah, congratulations.
William, he's vanished.
Vanished?
I'm at my wits' end.
I think something terrible must have happened.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Yes. Listen.
Absolute--I appreciate your concern.
- I understand. - What now?
We need to deal with this in an orderly fashion.
Crabtree, get here.
Sir, it seems there has been a rash of petty crimes
in their neighborhood.
Pickpocketing, laundry stolen off clotheslines,
missing chickens.
- Chickens? - I have a theory, sir.
Make it quick.
A gypsy caravan has just set up camp down by the river.
Gypsies? Bloody thieves.
Well, sir, the gypsy concept of ownership
is different from ours.
- Well, sort it out. - Sir, I will.
- Where will you be? - My office.
My campaign manager is stopping by.
Oh.
It'll be quieter in here.
I'm sorry to bother you, William.
I couldn't think what else to do.
It's quite all right.
I would have been upset if you hadn't come to me, Anna.
Please, tell me what happened.
Oh, Joe left our hotel at about 7:00 last night
to look for a tobacconist.
We were supposed to meet for dinner in the hotel restaurant
at half-past, and he never arrived.
He literally went out for tobacco and never came back.
Forgive me for asking, Anna,
but were you and he having troubles?
No!
We were on our way to Niagara Falls to get married.
I'm sorry, William, I didn't mean to snap.
It's quite all right.
And Joe's last name?
Bell.
A few months after you and I had our adventure in Bristol,
I finally plucked up the courage to sail to New York.
Joe was the best thing about that place.
It's loud and filthy and the people are horrible.
I take it Joe is the exception.
He is.
Strong and forthright, kind.
There aren't many like that.
Anyway, a short while after, he proposed,
and I thought all my dreams had come true.
We'll find him, Anna.
Look at me, I haven't even asked how you've been.
Oh, uh, I'm well.
And Julia? Are you and she still...
Uh, we're still very close, yes.
Julia is engaged to another.
Oh, William, I'm sorry.
That's quite all right. I'm fine.
Now, I'll need a description of Joe.
Yes. He's about your build.
Dark complexion, I suppose you'd say,
a moustache, and black hair.
What is it, William?
This new look of yours is going over very well
with the voters and the press, Tommy.
So I hear.
Now, what's this all about, Isaac?
Well, it seems that you are in a tighter horse race
with your opponent than we had hoped for.
But just days ago you said
that Ellis Cornwall was dead in the water.
What's happened?
Well, things change quickly in politics.
Cornwall's anti-immigrant stand has become increasingly popular.
As a result, he has gained significant support
for his opposition to the subway project as well.
Cornwall says "no" to any new idea.
A bloody Luddite is what he is.
Because he understands people are afraid of change.
Now, he's savvy.
He's a numbskull. People will see through that.
Don't be simple, Tommy.
Trust the people's judgment, and you're doomed.
And the immigrant issue aside, without you on city council,
we don't have sufficient numbers
to pass the subway project vote next month.
Now, Edwin Drury and the rest of your backers
at the land consortium are getting nervous.
So what do we do?
We beat Cornwall at his own game,
and an opportunity to do just that
has landed on our doorstep.
It has?
The gypsy crime spree.
Crime spree? A few minor thefts?
There's nothing minor about it, Tommy.
In fact, you have just released a statement saying
that you are shocked at these brazen gypsies
and that you intend to lock up the guilty
and run the rest out of town.
When did I release this statement exactly?
It'll be in all the afternoon papers.
But we've barely had time to look into these crimes.
A statement's premature.
Not if you want to convince the voters that as alderman,
you will be their champion of law and order,
that you intend to right the ship,
to see your dream of "Toronto the Good" come true.
Now, you've promised that in all your speeches.
Don't you want to show them that was more than just words?
- Of course I do. - That's my boy, Tommy!
It's time to draw a line in the sand.
Now, go right that ship
and show those gypsies who they're really dealing with.
Is this Joe?
Anna, I know how difficult this must be for you.
It's not Joe.
Thank God. He's still alive.
Right, then.
I believe what would be best now is for you to get some rest.
I'll let you know as soon as there's news.
Constable Morris, please escort Miss Fulford to her hotel
and stay there with her until I can join you.
Thank you, William.
She's lovely.
Poor thing.
I can't imagine how I'd feel in her situation.
Well, then, it would appear that Mr. Delory is,
in fact, himself.
Has your postmortem revealed anything, Doctor?
Yes.
I recovered this slug-- .32 caliber.
Given the powder burns on his skin,
Mr. Delory was shot point-blank.
Ruling out a stray bullet.
I don't understand, Julia.
The passengers would have heard a gunshot.
I know. I've no explanation, either.
And I found this:
metal filings.
They were embedded in the wound and the victim's jacket.
As if they were also fired from the gun?
If so, you're dealing with a most unusual weapon.
I believe I need to return to the scene of the crime.
Metal filings, sir?
Yes, like those recovered from the victim's body.
Henry, I'll need you to gather a few items for me.
Certainly, sir.
From where?
A millwright.
Right, then.
Who's in charge here?
When I ask a question, I expect an answer.
You've got till the count of three before we take action.
One, two...
Put those damn sticks away.
What are you, then? Their queen?
He thinks I'm a gypsy queen.
Well, you must be the police king.
I'm Inspector Thomas Brackenreid.
Just who the hell are you?
I am the Phuri Dae.
The furry what?
It means "wise woman."
I am the one who will speak with you, only me.
Come.
And no weapons.
Uh, sir, I should come with you
just to make sure that your safety is...
Just keep your eye on this lot, Crabtree.
Yes, sir.
So, Miss whatever your name is,
there's been a crime spree in this neighborhood
since you lot turned up.
Really?
Well, I will tell my clan to be on guard for those criminals.
Don't play coy with me.
Your clan needs to pack up and move on.
Inspector Brackenreid, gypsies are used to persecution.
We aren't intimidated.
Please, show me the evidence against us.
You're trespassing on city property.
You've got until noon tomorrow to be gone.
Otherwise, I can't answer for what might happen.
Neither can I.
Murdoch.
Ah, sir. How did it go with the gypsies?
- Bunch of goat-herders. - That well.
They'll be gone by tomorrow if they know what's good for them.
What are you working on?
It's a speculative notion at the moment.
To do with this impossible shooting of yours?
- Yes, sir. - How's that going?
Well, sir, we've confirmed that the victim was indeed
a Wilbur Delory from New York City,
in town on business, according to his family.
Two incidents both involving New York City residents:
Delory and Miss Fulford's missing fiancé.
Yes, sir. Perhaps there's a connection.
The fiancé knew this other bloke,
had a row with him, killed him, and ran.
Could be as simple as that.
The thought had crossed my mind.
Keep an eye out, Murdoch.
Miss Fulford's runaway groom could be
a bit of a dangerous character.
Sir, Constable Morris just telephoned
from the Imperial Hotel.
Miss Fulford took a message at the front desk from her fiancé.
Indeed.
Have Morris stay put with Miss Fulford
until I can get there.
Mr. Morris just found this out now.
He thought Miss Fulford was in her room.
I don't understand, George.
Where is Miss Fulford now?
Sir, she's on the way to meet her fiancé.
What?
Do we have any idea where she was going?
The man at the front desk who took the message
said the Gerard Street Bridge, sir.
Anna!
William!
William, I finally heard--
What the hell are you doing?
Joe would never harm anyone let alone try and kill me.
But he contacted you with instructions
that led you into an ambush.
Anna, just how well did you know him, really?
Just what does that mean?
Well, you've had a whirlwind romance.
And you barged into my pub
with a bullet through your arm a year ago,
begging me to believe you weren't a murderer,
so don't you dare question my judgment!
But isn't it possible that your love for Joe
has blinded you to the truth about him?
Right.
If I'm to help you find Joe,
I'll need to know everything you know about him.
Where do I start?
Was he well-off? Where did he work?
He has his own business
shipping cargo back and forth to Europe.
What sort of cargo?
I'm not sure.
That's all right.
We can find all of that out
if you just tell me the name of the company.
I don't actually know.
You weren't far off when you said whirlwind.
Oh, this is embarrassing.
Did Joe ever mention a Wilbur Delory?
I don't think so. Who is he?
He's the unfortunate gentleman I showed you in the morgue.
And he had a bullet in him.
Are you seriously suggesting that the man I love
is going about Toronto shooting people
and probably trying to kill me?
I don't know anything at the moment, Anna.
But I do know that I don't wish to see you harmed.
Well, Joe would never harm me. I know he wouldn't.
Is that it?
Virtually no noise.
I got the idea after reading about Hiram Maxim's attempts
to muffle the sound of internal combustion motors.
So this is a "muffler" so to speak.
Yes, George,
which would explain why no one on the streetcar
heard the gunshot.
Insidious is what it is.
I agree.
The key to this "muffler", as you call it, George,
is the sound-dampening properties of metal filings
stuffed into a series of conical baffles
along the length--
"Silencer." That has a better ring to it.
I'm sorry, sir.
Along the length of the cylinder--
"Baffler." That's the ticket.
So those metal filings are like the ones found
in the victim's wound?
Correct, sir.
They would have been blown out of the gun
with the force of the shot.
Murdoch, a man travels all the way from New York City
to commit murder and uses a highly-specialized device
that ensures he can slip away into thin air.
What does that sound like to you?
I believe we're dealing with an assassin.
- Tommy, we have a problem. - We do?
Mr. Drury, good to see you again.
I took care of our problem, gentlemen.
The gypsies will be gone by tomorrow one way or another.
You should have run them out of town on sight, Inspector.
A number of my neighbors on Jarvis Street,
many of whom I convinced to contribute to your campaign,
were burglarized last night by those lowlifes.
What makes you think it was the gypsies?
My son, Edwin Jr., and his friends saw
the gypsy men themselves from our drawing room.
The thieves were breaking into Number 28.
First a minor crime wave,
now these major thefts by these immigrant peasants.
Ellis Cornwall will rake you over the coals with this
unless you react with an iron hand.
But we can still turn this to your advantage,
but we need arrests, and we need the caravan out of town
before the evening papers hit the streets.
I can see your point, gentlemen,
but that's not how I left it with them.
We should give the gypsies a chance to--
Brackenreid, you've--
We've got a potential disaster on our hands.
Just get back to that camp and get them the hell out of there.
And I'm sending the press, so I don't want any mistakes.
Everything Mr. Drury's consortium has worked for
depends upon this, Tommy.
Everything you've worked for.
You wanted to see me, Doctor?
Yes, I've received a request from Mr. Delory's family
to have his remains returned to New York.
Yes, I see no reason why not.
Right.
Then I'll release the body to the mortician here
that the family made arrangements with.
He's to ship the body to a funeral parlor in New York City.
Very good.
Is there something else?
Yes.
I suppose I was wondering how you'll keep Miss Fulford safe
now there's been an attempt made on her life?
Well, I've asked her to remain at the station house
until I can arrange protective custody.
And once the killer is caught--
Why can't she stay with me?
- With you? - Yes.
The killer would never think to look for her in my home,
and she'd be more at ease.
Yes, but--
Consider what Anna's going through, William.
If the gunman is her fiancé,
then she's been horribly betrayed,
and she's lost the love of her life.
It's heartbreaking.
Indeed.
I'll arrange it.
Right, you lot, there's no need for trouble,
but if that's what you want, then I'm happy to oblige.
Thomas--
Tommy Brackenreid is fair but tough.
Are you getting all this down, Glynn?
Every golden word.
- Good lad. - Inspector!
You will stop this immediately.
Ma'am, I'll ask you to stay back for your own safety.
It's all right, Crabtree.
What you've got to understand is that
there's no point crying over this.
The decision's been taken.
By who?
Oh. I see.
So you were following someone else's orders.
You're a messenger boy.
You've got nothing to complain about.
If it wasn't for me, we'd be rounding everybody up,
not just the men.
You gave us until tomorrow.
You were going nowhere, and you know it.
Mm, so I am the liar?
Well, in that case, you leave me no choice.
What you seek, you shall never gain.
What's that supposed to mean?
She is remarkable. Who is she?
Never you mind. Get on with your job.
Sir, I think she just put a gypsy curse on you.
A curse, was it?
Thank you, Crabtree.
She did no such thing.
Right, you lot, come on. Chop-chop.
I don't know how to thank you for your kindness, Doctor.
Call me Julia.
May I ask you a personal question, Julia?
Of course.
Well, the way William spoke of you in Bristol,
I got the feeling you and him were destined for each other.
But now you're engaged to someone else.
So I was wondering...
What happened?
I don't mean to pry. It's just--
Well, it's important to me that William's happy.
It's good of you to care for him.
I still do, very much.
But it became obvious that our futures were...
just not compatible.
It must be true what they say.
Love isn't always enough.
Sir, your signature is needed.
The customs form regarding Mr. Delory's body.
Yes, of course.
What is it, George?
Well, sir, with respect to the Jarvis Street break-ins,
the inspector, he hasn't even asked
to interview any of the residents.
He's just taken it on Edwin Drury's word
that it was the gypsies.
There's a saying, George: it's just politics.
- Yes, but, sir-- - Don't worry.
I'll make sure that the thefts
are thoroughly investigated very soon.
In the meantime,
the inspector needs our support and discretion.
Yes, sir.
That's odd.
The funeral home that Mr. Delory's body
is meant to be shipped to...
It's different than the one his family requested.
No one should disturb the dead, not even the police.
Mr. Palmer, we contacted Mr. Delory's family
in New York City,
and they had no idea arrangements
for Mr. Delory's body had been changed.
But they contacted me directly.
Someone contacted you,
but it wasn't Mr. Delory's family.
And whoever it was has been going to great lengths
to obtain his body.
I want to know why.
Sir, that body's sitting awfully high up.
Mr. Delory seems anxious to escape
this shipping coffin, Mr. Palmer.
Can you explain why?
I cannot.
It's a false bottom, sir.
If you please, George.
One, two...
Oh, my.
Well, George,
it appears we've found Miss Fulford's fiancé.
I'm sorry, Anna.
I need some air.
- I'll come with you. - William!
She needs time to herself.
Of course.
I have preliminary results.
Joe Bell died of a single gunshot wound to the abdomen.
.32 caliber, the same as the other victim.
And I found metal filings in the wound.
Time of death?
Roughly 24 hours ago.
He was killed before Mr. Delory.
Why are these two men dead?
And why on Earth would someone want Anna dead as well?
And why would the killer want to ship Joe Bell's body
back to New York in secret?
It's a conundrum to be sure, sir.
Well, whatever his reason, the killer comes up
with this double-coffin deception.
But he needs a second corpse to put on top of Joe Bell's body.
So he must have known Delory was from New York.
The streetcar witnesses claim
that two men were chatting moments before the murder.
So the murderer killed Delory
simply because he needed a corpse?
Sir, the disregard for human life...
Indeed, George.
This assassin is well-suited to his calling.
I don't believe we've seen his like before.
Bloody hell, Glynn! What were you thinking, eh?
You were supposed to write about the arrests,
not this curse bollocks.
But a gypsy curse,
how could I ignore a thing like that?
I thought we had a deal.
I give you scoops over all the other broadsheets
in exchange for good press on my station house.
On your station house, yes, not your political aspirations.
Is it possible you've confused the two?
If your reporting costs me this election,
I guarantee I'll find a way to make you sorry.
Is that a quote, Inspector?
- Sir. - What do you want, Crabtree?
Sir, the gypsy women have begun a sort of vigil outside.
Outside? Are you serious?
Yes, sir.
That wise woman of theirs says they won't leave
until their men are released.
Shall I have the lads try to move them off?
What, with Glynn out there lurking
ready to make a fool out of me again?
Sir, if I were an objective observer,
which I believe I am,
I might observe that--
Sir, I believe your policing methods have suffered of late.
Did I hear you correctly, Crabtree?
Yes, sir.
What?
Oh, Mr. Drury, I'm so sorry.
Yes, sir. I'll be right there.
Where are those Jarvis Street break-in reports?
I'll fetch them, sir.
I never saw the man, Detective.
I received a telephone call.
And this caller, what did he offer you?
The continued use of my legs.
I see.
Mr. Palmer, how did the second body get into the coffin
without you seeing who put it there?
The caller asked me to prepare the Delory corpse
and then go for a stroll.
I was to leave the door open and come back in an hour.
That's all I know.
Detective, who are these people
that threaten such ghastly violence?
Sir.
The break-in reports.
Detective.
The men have been showing photos of Joe Bell around town.
They discovered he made a visit to Union Station
not long before he was killed.
- He was alone? - Yes, sir.
Why return to Union Station?
Well, apparently he stored several items while in transit.
He requested access to a piece of luggage
and then left the station.
Beyond that, I'm afraid the trail goes cold, sir.
Well, whatever he was doing,
it was certainly without Miss Fulford's knowledge.
We need to find out what he put into storage, Henry.
Sir.
How do you do it, Murdoch?
Joe loved this watch.
It kept terrible time.
These are the rest of his effects.
Thank you.
What will you do when all this is over?
Start again, I suppose.
Though it's hard to imagine how.
I suppose we become so accustomed
to the shape of our lives,
we're convinced that no other is possible.
And yet, of course, it is.
You know, I've fallen for two men in the space of a year,
and I've lost them both.
There's always the nunnery.
Two men?
One was Joe.
The other walked into my pub in Bristol.
But his heart belonged to another.
Oh.
My chaperone is growing impatient.
I should return to the safety of your home.
Of course.
Thank you.
I have to say I'm surprised at you, Tommy,
very surprised.
I asked a simple thing, and you made a mess of it.
The round-up went exactly to plan, Mr. Drury.
So Paddy Glynn's the problem?
Don't look to side-step the blame.
I beg your pardon?
Who was it sent him down there?
Inspector, I will not accept failure.
You need to counter-attack after this fiasco.
I'm open to ideas.
Well...
There is something that might "right the ship", sir.
I'm listening.
Perhaps your family would care
to attend the theater this evening?
I could teach Joe Bell a thing or two.
When I travel, I pack one valise and a shoe box.
Henry, a one-hour carriage ride to your mother's house
doesn't count as traveling.
Sir, where would you like this monstrosity?
Right here on the work table, George.
Right, then.
Let's see what brought Joe Bell to Union Station.
I'm betting it's another body, sir.
It often is.
It often is, Henry?
And we have...
tin cans.
No doubt full of body parts, Higgins.
And inside is...
Oil.
Sir?
Olive oil to be precise.
Who would go carting around gallons of olive oil
while they're on vacation?
There's something in here.
What on Earth?
American $20 bills.
Sir, if the other tins are filled with the same,
there's a fortune here.
Sir, who was this Joe Bell?
How did he come by all this money?
I have no idea, George,
but it's a fair bet that this is why he was murdered.
The paper itself is low grade,
high in linen, lacking in cotton.
And, if you look at Alexander Hamilton's buttons,
there are two.
There should be three.
So this Joe Bell was a counterfeiter
who couldn't count.
No, in fact.
According to the United States Secret Service,
this particular counterfeiter is a forger who lives in Sicily.
Sicily?
How did this fake money end up in New York?
Miss Fulford said that her fiancé, Joe Bell,
had a shipping company-- various cargo.
Some of which was Sicilian olive oil.
Yes.
Now, the question is whether or not
Mr. Bell was part of this counterfeiting ring
or if he simply happened upon the hidden money.
Well, either way, he helps himself to a few tins,
and he makes a run for it.
Yes, and the rightful owners
sent an assassin to track him down.
And the rightful owners are?
The New York City Police have no knowledge of this Joe Bell,
but they did recognize the double-coffin ruse.
It's a technique used by an organized crime group
called the Black Hand.
The double coffin allows them to transport victims
they don't want discovered.
Pragmatic cutthroats.
Apparently this Black Hand has its roots in Sicily
but has been moving into New York City's Italian community.
First a band of gypsies,
now something called organized crime.
"Toronto the Good", indeed.
So do you have a plan to put a stop to this business?
I might.
Brilliant, 'cause I have a crime wave of my own
to deal with.
Oh, yes, I've heard.
And you hope for a speedy conclusion.
I do.
With the actual thieves behind bars, if you were wondering.
- I was not. - Good.
Now, you have some unpleasant business to attend to.
Yes.
Joe would never associate with this Black Hand.
He was a good soul.
No doubt.
But he did steal from the Black Hand.
And it cost him his life and put yours in jeopardy.
I swear I had no idea what Joe was doing.
And I believe you.
But the attempt on your life would suggest
that the Black Hand feels otherwise.
And it's this mistaken belief that's the basis for my idea.
- To catch his killer? - Yes.
Now, it stands to reason
that the Black Hand wants the money back.
And I intend to give it to them.
Why would you want to give those murderers anything?
To draw out the assassin.
I'll send them a telegram pretending to be you,
and that you know what they've done.
"Anna" will offer the money in exchange for her life,
and when the killer presents himself,
he'll be apprehended.
And how will you contact them?
There is a funeral parlor in New York City
I believe the Black Hand uses as a cover.
I'll wire them the specifics of where and when
the exchange is to take place.
Well, I want to be there with you.
It's far too dangerous.
But the killer will expect to see me.
If he doesn't, he might slink away,
and you'll never catch him.
Anna, I will not use you as bait.
William, if our roles were reversed,
if you were after the killer of the woman you loved,
you would not want to be denied a role.
No, I would not.
Right.
So what can I do to help?
Have you come to beg me to lift the curse?
No.
Something even more difficult than that.
I'm here to admit that I was wrong.
Yes?
I know your men didn't commit those break-ins,
but apologies aren't going to get them out
of the situation they're in.
So your words are empty.
No.
I do have a plan, but I need your help.
Release my men first.
I can't.
For this to work, they must remain in jail one more night.
May I?
The public has to believe the men are free.
I need your women to cancel their vigil
outside my station house.
And suppose your big plan doesn't work?
Well, for one thing, you won't have to curse me again.
I'll have the whole city doing that.
And the police king will fall?
He will.
Whoa.
Yah!
Well, well, well.
What do we have here?
They're friends of my son, Edwin Jr.
Yes, the ones so eager to give statements blaming the gypsies.
It was Edwin Jr.'s idea.
- That's rubbish. - It's true, I swear.
What was Edwin Jr.'s idea?
Speak!
To rob each others' house when our families were out.
These boys are just trying to get my son in trouble.
No, I don't think so.
You see, Mr. Drury,
I went back over your boy's statement.
Before I came back up here this afternoon,
I stopped off in front of Number 28.
There's no line of sight between there
and that drawing room window.
Which means your boy and these two were lying
when they said they saw the gypsies
breaking into the place.
It was a setup,
and I'm afraid your son instigated it all.
Well, thank you, Inspector.
You can rest assured that my son will be dealt with severely.
Actually, there'll be no back-room deals.
I'll have my men arrest Edwin Jr. at the theater.
I'd think twice about that.
You will humiliate my family and theirs.
Tommy, this--this may not be the smart move.
What are you saying, Lowe?
Well, politics is all about the compromise,
the give and the take.
So you give a little on this,
and then you take a little on that.
Are you attempting to bribe an officer of the law?
Of course not.
You told me to make this city "Toronto the Good",
and I'm doing just that.
Let's not mince words here, Tommy.
You're making a mistake that will go far beyond
throwing your campaign away.
Bribes? Threats?
Now, I may not know much about politics,
but I do know about the law,
and you two are that close to breaking it.
Boys! Outside.
Tommy, Tommy...
The name is Inspector Brackenreid,
and I say to hell with politics.
You two can dig that subway your bloody selves.
Oh, I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to take the next car.
But this is the last one.
We have an extra car running tonight.
I don't understand why I can't take this one.
We're on a very tight schedule.
Tight schedule?
These cars never run on time!
Sir, I'm sorry.
I'm gonna have to ask you to step aside.
I have to make my shift. If I'm late, I'll be sacked.
- Sir, I understand. - What is the issue?
Look, sir.
Drop your weapon!
Anna!
What on Earth?
He murdered Joe.
Come on.
Joe Bell was a member of the Black Hand.
He handled shipping of the counterfeit money
into New York City.
And all of that was going smoothly
until he met and fell in love with Anna Fulford.
And then he wanted out.
So he took the money to start their new life together.
Correct me if I'm wrong.
So the Black Hand sent you to kill Joe Bell.
And in bringing his body back to New York City
it would send out a very clear message:
"steal from the Black Hand,
and we'll find you and kill you."
Anna Fulford is innocent.
She played no part in this.
Oh, we don't see it that way.
No harm will come to her.
You don't understand.
Someone will replace me.
If they fail, they will be replaced.
The woman will die.
The Black Hand does not forget.
It will come for her and for this city.
So you're off?
It's better this way.
They say Peterborough is a nice little town.
So I've heard.
Lots of chickens.
I never would have thought this a couple of days ago,
but I think I'll miss you.
Your clan, I mean.
Thank you, Inspector.
You will forgive us if we don't send postcards.
Right.
And I'm glad that you're here,
because I have to lift the curse.
Don't bother.
It wasn't actually a curse as it turned out.
I must be losing my touch.
Take care of yourself, Inspector.
You're one of the good ones.
I never did get your name.
Mirela.
So these people will hunt me down and kill me
simply to save face?
I'm afraid so.
I'm not sure I can resign myself to that.
You don't have to.
But you just said--
Anna, I can't protect you,
but I can help you hide.
But I don't want to run and hide, William.
I want to stay here.
You can't.
Well, Bristol, then.
I could go home.
We've had these documents made up for you.
They're your new identity, a new name, a new past.
Everything you'll need.
But where will I go?
What am I going to do?
Anna, what's important is surviving
to be able to make those decisions.
I'm so sorry, but it's the best I can do.
How did this happen?
Both of us losing the futures we counted on?
Perhaps when enough time has passed,
you can come to me.
No.
No, you must never tell anyone what's become of Anna Fulford.
Not even me.
To do so would place us both in great danger.
So this really is good-bye?
I'll miss you, William.
Thank you, William.
Good luck, Anna.