- synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
(horse clip-clopping)
Do you, William, take this woman to thy wedded wife,
to love her, comfort her, to honour and keep her,
in sickness and in health,
till death do ye part?
- I do. - And do you,
Julia Ogden, take this man to thy wedded husband,
- to obey him... - Obey him?
Uh...
we're negotiating that.
(guests laughing)
(pounding on door)
It's Darcy!
(pounding on door)
(knocking on door)
Sir, get dressed quickly. You have to see this.
- (man): What is it? - (people talking frantically)
(man): Get the children inside!
(horse neighing)
Where'd it go, George?
- Behind that building, sir. - What building?
The bank, sir, the bank!
We have to get up on one of these roofs.
Sir. Listen.
(airplane propeller)
- It's coming back. - This direction.
It's not here, George.
You must have heard the sound reflecting off of a building.
(airplane propeller) Sir!
My God.
(George): I believe it's landing.
Not landing.
(loud crash)
(people shouting)
(people shouting) (horse neighing)
(sizzling)
Sir, a few people were struck by light debris,
but apart from that no one seems seriously injured.
What have we got, Murdoch?
Sir, some sort of flying machine.
Flying machine?
- Yes, sir. I saw it with my own eyes; so did George. - Sirs.
Looks like we have a body here in the shed.
Poor bugger. I'll bet that was the last thing he was expecting.
Sir, I think the pilot is still in the machine.
Be careful, George. Don't touch any of the metal.
It may still be hot.
Good God!
What the jumping hell is that?
It appears to be a pig-like creature.
Pig-like?
Sir, I don't think we should assume the entity is of this planet.
Bloody hell, Murdoch. You don't think that...
No sir, I don't think the pig was in control of the aircraft.
Then who was?
Well, if ever there was a debate over which came first...
the day that hell freezes over or the day that pigs fly... this ends it.
Very good, sir.
How did the bloody thing stay in the air?
- It may have been transmitted control. - What?
Nikola Tesla created a device for transmitted control a few years ago.
He used it to remotely control a small boat.
The same technology could be applied to a flying machine.
What about the pig?
Well, whoever was controlling the vehicle may have wanted to test a weighted craft.
Over a crowded bloody city.
The reckless bastard. He killed a man, Murdoch!
And why a pig? Why not a sack of spuds?
I don't know, sir.
Dr. Grace?
All indications are he was struck down by debris
and then died in the ensuing conflagration.
Right. Look for any indicators of identity. We'll need to notify next of kin.
- What about the pig? - Uh...
See if there is anything that will tell us which abattoir it may have come from.
Doctor.
Sirs, about this pig.
I don't think we should rule out the possibility
that it is a creature not of this world.
- Oh, here we go. - George,
don't you think it highly unlikely that a creature
from another planet would look exactly like an earthly pig?
Parallel evolution, sir, except on his planet
pigs became the dominant species.
They are very clever; some say smarter than dogs.
Do dogs fly bloody aircraft, Crabtree?
Not ones that we know.
You two can handle this.
I have a young man that needs my advice.
Carry on.
George, have the men collect the craft,
and have them take careful note of where every piece was found.
I want every piece accounted for.
And have them take it to the warehouse on Governor St.
- Sir. - Thank you.
I envy you, son.
Serving in Her Majesty's army was one of the great honours
of my life. When do you ship out?
I should be face to face with the Boers soon enough.
Bloody Boers declaring war on us.
Fine young men like you will show them what a mistake that was.
In fact, I've half a mind to join you.
Really. At your age?
I'd still be more than a match for any Afrikaans
that I come up against, Arthur my old son.
- Julia! - William!
- My goodness! When did you get back from Vienna? - Last night.
You look wonderful! I'm so happy to see you.
I missed you so much, William.
Oh, as did I.
So, this is your flying machine?
What's left of it.
How fascinating. What a shame it was destroyed.
Yes. I'm hoping to reconstruct it.
William, what do you know about this?
Well, I've studied the flying machines by Otto Lilienthal.
But isn't this craft different? I heard it had a motor.
Well, yes, it did, I believe gasoline powered.
But the principles of aerodynamics are the same.
If I can reconstruct the debris...
A three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle.
What fun!
I've yet to find any indications of the man's identity.
Hmm. What about the pig? Have you conducted a postmortem?
I didn't think it necessary.
I was wondering if his internal
constitution is the same as the ones here on Earth.
- George, what are you eating? - Oh, it's called
a hot hamburger. It's really quite delicious.
And you can carry it around in your hand. Would you like a bite?
Hot meat and bread together? I should think not.
You must have a strong constitution. As to your pig,
he is very much of this earth,
slaughtered by the usual means. Hmm.
This metal is extraordinarily light.
Aluminium; similar strength to steel,
but one third of the density, 20 times the cost.
Whoever built this had money.
That looks more electrical than mechanical.
Excellent observation.
Sir. Doctor.
- I have some interesting news. - What have you, George?
Well, firstly, as you suspected...
the pig is just a pig.
Oh, I'm sorry, George.
Oh, that's quite all right, sir. It's given us another avenue of inquiry.
We found a stamp on the pig, which not only tells us the slaughterhouse,
but also the date on which it was...
Now, as it turns out, there were 64 pigs slaughtered that day;
most of them were sold dressed,
but have a look who bought a whole one.
James Pendrick.
- Can you try him again, please? - (door opening)
Yes, again.
Ah...
Yes, and let it ring. It's a matter of some importance
that I contact this man.
It crashed.
Where?
- Downtown Toronto. - Impossible.
Mr. Pendrick, you were testing a flying craft
over a crowded city and now a man is dead!
Oh, dear Lord.
I relinquished control of the aircraft to my assistant,
Mr. Matthews, earlier this morning. It was part of a test we were conducting.
You're telling me your assistant lost control of the craft?
No. He would have known what he was doing.
- Where is he, then? - I've been trying to contact him.
I've been betrayed, Murdoch.
Once again. There's something sinister at work.
Do you see this?
It was attached to this.
A microphone.
Yes. I followed the wire to the carriage house.
- Who would be listening to you? - One of my competitors, obviously.
Have you heard of the Mortimer Challenge?
No.
He's an oil tycoon by the name of Samuel Mortimer.
He put up a million dollars to the first man who can achieve controlled flight.
- A million dollars! - Yes.
You understand the stakes now.
Any fool can get a flying machine off the ground.
It's a matter of reducing weight and drag
and maximizing speed and wing surface.
The problem is: how do you turn the damn thing?
A rudder?
Yes, well, a rudder needs a keel,
something to press against.
Of course, you can't have a keel on a flying machine.
Solution: tilt the plane,
use the wings as a keel.
Ah, but how do you tilt the plane?
That is a question to which I have the answer.
That's what they're after.
(alarm bell ringing)
The Arrow.
(ringing stops)
Who's there?
(shuffling nearby)
Matthews?
Matthews.
Must be those damn racoons.
Detective Murdoch, allow me to officially introduce...
the Pendrick Arrow.
But the test craft...
Was just a test craft.
This is the aircraft I intend to fly.
Mr. Pendrick, I have to ask:
why a pig?
I was testing a harness.
There's no point in trying to secure oneself
if the end result is slow death from organ rupture.
How were the organs, by the way?
Oh, I wouldn't know.
But I'd be more concerned about burning to death.
Yes. Yes, that is a problem.
(dart shot)
Mr. Pendrick?
(dart shot)
They've taken it.
They've taken the Arrow.
- The asylum? - Yes, I start next week.
From coroner to psychiatrist.
What other surprises do you have in mind?
Well, I hope to go from married to unmarried.
I retained a lawyer.
Wish me luck.
You have it.
You should sign up for the military, Crabtree.
War tests the measure of a man.
Sir, I'm not sure I want to be measured.
Thomas, what is this foolishness?
Robert said he saw you taking your old uniform
out of the attic. Oh, don't bother, Constable Crabtree.
I know full well what you were doing.
You must be an excellent cook, Mrs. Brackenreid.
It's not my cooking that's made him stout. What sort of a fool are you?
Going off to fight a war at your age!
Sir. Ah, Mrs. Brackenreid.
Sir, I have Mr. Pendrick in the interview room.
Perhaps you ought to sit in on this one.
Too old to fight a war?
Seems like I fight one with the missus every single night.
(She scoffs.)
I received a letter. It was a personal invitation,
but I assumed that other gentleman scientists received the same.
A million dollars is to be awarded
- to the first man to fly. - Not just fly;
each recipient had to perform a figure eight over a distance of one mile
with a hundred-pound load in addition to the pilot.
That was to be achieved by July 1st.
So, you think your flying machine was stolen
to prevent you from winning the competition.
- Obviously. - What about the test craft?
Deliberately crashed to prevent me from using it to win.
In the middle of a large city?
That was intended to destroy my reputation.
Remain in contact, Mr. Pendrick.
If you have any further insights, please bring them to us.
And do not take the law into your own hands.
Then find my Arrow, Murdoch.
My financial future depends on it.
Ah, yes, regarding that, Mr. Pendrick, if I may...
I thought you were financially ruined.
I was, thanks to you.
Well, then, where did you get the funds to do this?
Reginald Gleason, an investor.
We agreed to split the prize money 50-50.
Risky move on his part.
Hmm. In my opinion, it's riskier to bet against me.
I don't trust him. Is there even
the slightest chance he could be mixed up in this?
I don't see how this could possibly be to his advantage.
- Right then. Let's talk to the competition. - Right.
♪
Not a decent suspect amongst the lot of them.
None of them seemed even close to making the July 1st deadline.
I thought the two from Ohio had potential.
- The Wright brothers? - Well, at least they had
something that looked like it could actually fly.
Hm. I'll have George look into this Samuel Mortimer fellow.
You think he might be behind this?
Well, if the money is committed, this would be one way of not having to pay it.
Then why make the offer in the first place?
Julia?
Is everything all right?
Yes. I just came by to tell you I've talked to my lawyer.
He thinks that Darcy and I should obtain an annulment.
An annulment? Is that even possible?
If we swear that our marriage was never consummated.
Darcy would have to agree to that.
I think he might, to avoid the scandal of divorce.
- Hm. - I'm going to have dinner with him tonight.
What have you, George?
Oh, sir. I was expecting...
well, I wasn't expecting this.
It's like a magic suit.
Put it on and you're instantly 20 years younger.
I was going to say.
I've signed up, Murdoch. Just got back from the recruitment centre.
- You... I beg your pardon? - Oh, it's only for a few months.
- The war will be over by then. - But, sir...
I just wanted to stand up and be counted, that's all.
Now, what's all this?
I'm testing the darts, sir. It's very sophisticated stuff.
The chemical was held in a reservoir
and then forcibly ejected when it hit the skin.
What kind of chemical?
Some sort of anaesthetic.
Can you identify it?
It's not like anything I've ever seen, sir.
Sinister forces indeed. (knocking on door)
- What have you, George? - Sirs, it would seem
the contest is bona fide. A million dollars was ta...
Oh, deep breath, sir. There you are.
A million dollars was taken out of an account
under the name of Samuel Mortimer
and placed in trust with the Bank of Toronto, to be
released to the winner if the terms of the challenge are met.
So if Pendrick succeeds, this Mortimer is down a million dollars.
What did you find out
- about Samuel Mortimer himself? - Well, that's the thing, sir.
Aside from his name being on the account, nobody seems to have heard of him.
Despite the condition of the corpse,
there were a couple of things that gave me pause...
the pattern of the burns, the position of the body.
Both these things suggest that this man was lying on his back at the time of impact.
And, given what I could tell of his clothing,
he didn't appear to be a workman taking a nap.
I decided that there was a possibility
that this man may be a victim of a homicide that would have
occurred before he was struck by the flying machine.
Yes, of course.
- Dr. Grace, what are you eating? - Oh, a hot hamburger.
Terribly popular. Would you like to try?
- No. - Your loss.
So, I decided to look at poisoning as the cause of death.
I emptied the stomach contents, and that's where I found these.
(Brackenreid): He swallowed them?
Tore it into pieces, likely to make the task
easier. It appears to be a cipher of some sort.
What are the odds, Murdoch, that the shed that the flying machine crashed into
just happened to contain a dead body?
Very low, I should think.
- So who's our victim? - I don't know.
Mr. Pendrick's assistant is still missing.
I've asked him to come in.
So, we have a millionaire that doesn't exist,
but a million dollars that does.
We have dead bodies, coded notes,
special darts, and exotic poison.
You know who I think is behind this, Murdoch?
- Terrence Meyers. - Exactly. - No, sir.
Terrence Meyers just walked into the station house.
Gentlemen. I shall presently be taking possession of a corpse
currently undergoing an autopsy in your morgue.
- I trust you have no objections. - Oy. Let me see some authority, Meyers.
Ah, of course.
Will you be wanting the pig too?
Uh... no. Keep the pig.
Is the victim an agent of the government?
I'm afraid that's top secret.
Did you steal the Pendrick Arrow, Mr. Meyers?
I have no idea what you're talking about.
So you're telling us it's just a coincidence
that your agent's body was put into a shed
that Pendrick's test craft later crashed into.
Well, I never said he was an agent,
but if I did, then, yes,
yes, that's what I would be saying. Good day, gentlemen.
Could this be your assistant Matthews?
Were the missing teeth pre-or postmortem?
Pre.
Then that's him, the poor devil.
Then how is it that the craft crashed into him?
I thought he was operating it.
I thought so too.
What's going on here, Detective?
Mr. Pendrick, I believe
your assistant may have been working for someone else.
Damn him!
Was it raining where you were earlier today?
We had a brief thunderstorm. Why?
Both Mr. Meyers and Mr. Pendrick had mud spatter on their pants.
You think they were caught in the same storm?
Well, it stands to reason that if you're going to steal
a flying machine, you won't want to go very far in broad daylight.
Look here, Murdoch.
The road that runs north of Pendrick's property.
Concession 51.
Do you recall a certain government airship being tested on Concession 51?
(groan)
(gun hammer cocked) Turn around.
Slowly.
Arthurs.
He'll live.
Where is my flying machine?
The Pendrick Arrow?
You claimed you didn't take it.
Of course we took it. It was in the interest of national security.
Ah.
Well, then,
who stole it from you?
I have no idea.
Detective, what could you possibly offer me that I don't already know?
Hmm?
It's possible
we found a coded note in Mr. Matthews' stomach.
A note. What note? Where is it?
It's a hypothetical note, to be hypothetically transferred
to you on the understanding that you tell us everything.
What I'm about to tell you can never leave the confines of this room,
- under penalty of... - Yes, yes, treason.
- Death penalty. - Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
We are at war, gentlemen,
and the need for a flying military vehicle has never been greater.
That's why you insisted on the hundred-pound payload. You intend to bomb the enemy.
Among other things. Obviously, whoever controls the skies will
- have tremendous advantage. - (Brackenreid scoffs.)
Bloody flying machines will never replace
- a well-drilled infantry. - So, you present yourself
as Samuel Mortimer, a wealthy industrialist planning a grand contest.
We became aware that a number of avionauts had made significant progress
in the area of manned flight, and we thought
that a financial incentive would accelerate progress.
So, how does Matthews fit in to all of this?
He became aware that certain foreign agents were monitoring Pendrick's progress.
But we won't know until we decode that message.
What does it mean?
I'm afraid that's top secret. Good day, gentlemen.
Bloody hell. I knew we couldn't trust him!
You remember the code, right?
I'm due for training.
Get to the bottom of this, Murdoch.
I'll do my best, sir.
Stand up straight, boy.
We will begin our day with a little bit of limbering up.
Fifty push-ups followed by a five-mile run.
And then we will proceed to the obstacle course.
It is our preference that our soldiers die
on the battlefield and not the training ground.
I'm an active policeman. I'm more than capable
of the rigours required for military service, Sergeant.
Is that right? Good.
Fifty push-ups. Go! All of you!
Bloody hell. Bollocks.
The Pendrick Arrow was never intended for military use.
- Don't be naive. - Well, who are
these supposed foreign agents? The Boers?
We don't know.
But we certainly don't want your flying machine in the hands
of someone who could use it against us.
You needn't worry about that.
Whoever attempts to fly the Arrow will be
- in for a big surprise. - What do you mean?
The very feature that makes the Arrow navigable, the tilters,
have been removed from the aircraft and kept in secret storage.
As you know, I had reason to be suspicious.
- Does anyone else know about the these tilters? - No one.
- Not even Matthews. - What about Mr. Gleason,
your financial backer with the deep pockets?
Well, he certainly knows I've perfected a system of navigation.
- He doesn't know how it works. - I'll need to see the particulars
- of your agreement with him. - Mr. Gleason can't be behind this.
It was his money that paid for it all.
No stone unturned.
Get over that wall, you old tub of guts! Go!
Next!
Need a boost, sir?
Oh, get your bloody hands off me, lad!
Aw! Oh, bloody hell.
(panting) Next!
- Sir? - What is it?
I conducted a trace of Pendrick's funds.
He was wired money directly from the Merchant Bank in Rochester...
an account under the name Reginald Gleason.
And the point, George?
Reginald Gleason doesn't exist, sir.
I see. Have you told Mr. Pendrick?
- I was on my way. - I'll tell him.
Agh!
No, no, no, Harry. Watch me. Watch.
Thrust! Twist! Withdraw! Now you try it.
- Ugh! - Oh, that's better, lad!
You do it like that, the poor bugger'll never know what's hit him.
Right, then, one more time, together. Oh, and put some guts behind it.
(both shouting)
Mr. Brackenreid. A moment.
If you're willing, I'm prepared to shave five or six years off your age.
It'll look better on your record.
We could use a man like you showing the Boer what for.
Sergeant, uh,
maybe 10?
Carry on.
Mr. Pendrick?
Sir, do you think Mr. Pendrick is dead?
No. I think it's more likely he's been kidnapped.
Oh, that's good.
He's an interesting chap.
Sir, why would they bother kidnapping him?
They already have his flying machine.
Because they can't fly it without him.
You see, I believe Mr. Pendrick removed something
crucial to the craft, something called the tilters,
which allow the craft to bank into a turn.
And you think now that they have him,
they plan to extract that information by force.
Yes.
Oh, sir, look. Do that again.
This could be it, George.
Yes. I believe these are the tilters.
I'll need both of these straightaway.
Yes, sir. Lads.
By the way, Murdoch,
I meant to tell you earlier. I've been accepted.
- Accepted? - I have a duty to Queen and country.
I intend not to shirk it. Thrust!
Twist! Withdraw!
Sir, I've brought the tilters.
Just leave them there, George.
This one's a real puzzler, isn't it, sir?
Yes. It's not a simple cipher, George.
Detective. Mr. Pendrick has been kidnapped.
Yes. I'm aware of that.
Are you now willing to divulge the coded message?
No. No, uh,
apparently the message is not encoded in any cipher we know, so...
I need your help, Murdoch.
Is that right?
Well, perhaps it's not a cipher after all.
Maybe it's just... numbers.
Sir, today is May the 13th, correct?
What of it?
Because Pendrick's flying machine...
was stolen yesterday, May the 12th.
Very good, George,
that's it.
Five twelve is the date; 1115 could be the time.
The time of what? His abduction?
No, I don't think so.
Sir, if they stole the flying craft, they would have to transport it somehow.
Yes, exactly.
Now, they couldn't fly the machine.
They would have had to use... a train!
A train car could would be large enough to transport the flying craft. George,
see if any trains left Willowdale station at 11:15,
and see if box car 2473 was
- routed anywhere in particular. - Sir.
Do you have anything to add, Mr. Meyers?
No.
Then I'm very busy.
Sir, there was indeed an 11:15 train leaving Willowdale.
What about box car 2473?
Routed for Lewiston, New York.
Just across the border. So it WAS the Americans.
Of course it was the Americans.
Did you say, Lewiston, Constable?
- I did. - There's a decommissioned
military base just outside of Lewiston.
They don't know that we know about it.
Right, George, arrange for my passage to Lewiston.
Yes, sir.
Margaret, you can't just come barging in here when I'm at work.
I just need the answer to one question: have you decided to join the military?
It's my duty. I can't just sit back
while Her Majesty's empire is under attack. You understand.
I know enough not to try and change your mind once it's made up.
Thank you, Margaret.
That's very understanding.
Why aren't they at school?
Thomas, I will not stand in your way,
but it's also your duty as a father to let them know what you are up to.
Not mine. Boys, your father has something
- he would like to tell you. - Bloody hell.
What is it, Father?
Come and have a seat, lads.
You've heard there's a war going on?
Our beloved empire is under attack.
Yes, sir.
Well, I have a duty to serve Queen and country.
You understand that, don't you?
I do, Father,
and if you don't come back,
I will do my duty as well.
I will see that Bobby and Mother don't go wanting.
You'll be the head of the house, will you?
If need be, Father, I'm prepared.
Mr. Gleason.
Why don't you call me by my real name?
Allen Clegg.
We tried taking the Pendrick Arrow for its inaugural flight yesterday.
Was it a good flight?
Why won't it turn, Mr. Pendrick?
The test craft did. Why not this one?
You killed Matthews, didn't you?
That's not what we're talking about.
You killed him, didn't you?
Not personally.
Now, Mr. Pendrick,
tell me what I need to know.
I'm not going to hit you.
Remember your last lacrosse game at Yale?
It was the Bulldogs, wasn't it? The team name?
You should have won that game.
That was the first time your shoulder popped out, wasn't it?
Then 10 years ago your fondness for the steeplechase took its toll.
A dislocated shoulder never quite does heal, does it?
It has a tendency to pop out when least expected.
And when expected.
(crunch) Ahhhh!
You and I are partners, Mr. Pendrick.
We don't want to take the Pendrick Arrow from you;
we want to share it with you.
And trust me when I say I make a better friend than enemy.
(crunch) Ah!
I'll let you catch your breath.
Fire!
- (whispering): Mr. Pendrick. - Murdoch.
- Are you all right? - My shoulder is dislocated.
Which one?
The le... the le... the left one.
- Not the plane; it won't fly. - It will now.
I brought the tilters.
How did you...?
Never mind. Get in.
- Take the controls. - Me?
- Well, I can't fly; I need two hands. - But I don't...
Nothing to it but a stout heart.
All right.
You there!
Stop!
Now gently pull the stick towards you.
More.
It's flying! We're flying!
What did you expect, man? I'm James Pendrick!
(both laughing)
Damn you, Murdoch.
Why are we going south?
We need to use the headwinds to gain altitude.
But we're going further into America.
Thank you, but I do understand basic geography.
Now, let's see if you've done your job right.
Raise the tilter on the right wing slightly.
A little more.
That's it.
Now level out the tilters.
(both laughing)
Fine work, Murdoch! Now let's aim for home.
Stop here!
- Brace yourself! - What?
Suggestions? (gunshot)
Shut up and fly!
Damn it. They're out of range.
Mr. Pendrick, we appear to be descending.
Pull the control stick towards you.
Still descending.
How much do you weigh, Murdoch?
Approximately 160 pounds.
Well, I didn't calculate for two passengers.
Oh. Right.
Oh. Again, I ask for suggestions.
- What are you doing? - I'm reducing our net weight.
(engine sputtering) Oh. Perhaps you've reduced it too much.
The stick! Pull it toward you as hard as you can!
I am! There's no response!
Lower both tilters!
(Murdoch grunting with effort)
Whoaho!
Take that!
Nobody beats James Pendrick!
Thank you, Mr. Pendrick.
We'll be taking your flying machine now.
- Good work, Detective. - But... Mr. Pendrick,
I had nothing to do with this. I swear to you.
Rest assured, Murdoch was a dupe in all of this.
- I see. - Get back to the road, get a team of horses and somebody
to dismantle this. I want it done before sunset.
Make sure that we have somebody that's qualif...
What in blazes! Murdoch!
Stop him!
It's not yours.
I will not have my name on a war machine.
You'll pay for this, Pendrick.
Mr. Pendrick merely destroyed his personal property.
There's no crime in that, as far as I can tell.
You betrayed your country, sir.
You know, someone will get up there someday.
You're risking losing your place in history.
Well, if I have a change of heart,
I can always rebuild it,
but only I.
But you're risking not being the first.
We have but one life, Murdoch. I have to be true to myself.
Besides, we both know I was first man to fly.
Actually, Mr. Pendrick...
I believe I was.
(Pendrick laughs.)
Touché.
So, we finally got to stik it to Meyers.
That's got to be worth a drinking itself.
Yes.
When do you ship out, sir?
I'm not going anywhere.
Glory is for the young, Murdoch.
I'll leave the thrashing of the Boers to others.
Well, the military may be displeased, but I am not.
A man has to be true to the ones he loves.
But it's a bloody pain in the arse sometimes.
William,
I have to talk to you.
Julia, what is it?
I just met with Darcy. He's agreed to the annulment.
- We can be married? - Yes!
We can be married!
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