Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 11, Episode 4 - The Canadian Patient - full transcript

(theme music)

♪

(lively music)
(indistinct chatter)

So, I'm just meant

to swallow it whole?
Have no fear, sir,

it's a dose of good health.
Fine fettle for 24 hours

or your money back.
Money back?

Well, no need, I think
I feel better already.

What do you call them?

"Isolated Accessory Food Factors."
They're amines

vital for the body.
Vital amines.



Well, here's what you should
call them... vitalamines!

No. Uh, uh, uh, vitalmines.

Vitelmints. Vi... vita...

Vitalamines. Ah!

♪

Hello, I'm Dr. Julia Ogden.

I believe I've heard of you.

Huh? You.
Because of your husband,

I lost my laboratory.

Oh.

And my research experiments

have been put on hold.

Well, it appears
you're back on your feet.

This is quite impressive.



Miss Demeter, isn't it?
Marilyn Clark.

It's all theoretical.
I need funding.

I understand you're trying

to achieve a world without men.

First, we need to perfect
refrigeration techniques

to allow the fluid
extracted from the male

to be preserved.
By "fluid", you mean--

A centrifuge would
then sort particles according

to density allowing us
to eliminate those carrying

the male chromosome.
And then finally,

each remaining spermatozoon
would be combined

with a single egg
from the mother.

Outside of the womb?
Eventually, yes.

My initial findings indicate
numerous complications.

First, I hope to achieve

my aims through intra-uterine
fertility methods.

And you believe that
to be possible?

Of course.
Why wouldn't it be?

I see.

Well, thank you.

♪
(indistinct chatter)

Dr. Ogden, there you are.

I afforded myself

a break to go see
some of the other booths.

It's remarkable!
I've just been across the way

here trying
some health supplements.

Oh, I'd be wary of those, George.

Plenty so-called physicians

pass off placebos
as medicine these days.

Some are actually harmful.

I don't think
in this case, Doctor.

I mean, if you're not satisfied,

they'll give you
your money back.

They would hardly do that
with a product that didn't work.

In any case, the Detective has
asked that I come and find you.

There's something happening
outside you'll want to see.
Oh.

(man): Those before me
have been content

to experiment on animals.
(indistinct speech)

Julia, George.
He's really going to do it.

To do what?
A human organ transplant.

What's he going to transplant,
sir? A foot? A head?

A kidney.
Oh.

Of course, such an endeavour
is fraught with peril.

Most surgeons, even the greatest
in the world, would not

dare make the attempt.
But I assure you,

in my hands, the procedure
will be completely safe.

The well-being of my patient
is paramount.

The donated kidney has already
been successfully removed

with no damage to the organ,

and it awaits us
in the operating theatre.

All great advancements
begin with two factors:

risk and genius.

Both will be on display this afternoon.

Who are they?
I have no idea.

The surgery
will commence momentarily.

Please come inside and find your seats.

It's OK.

Excuse me, Doctor.
This seems like

an extremely dangerous endeavour.

Not in my hands, madam.
Are you aware

of Dr. Landsteiner's research on blood types?

How do you know
about Landsteiner?
I'm a police detective.

His work was relevant
to an investigation.

In fact, I visited
Landsteiner in Europe last year.

Blood compatibility
is crucial to the success

of any transfusion
or transplant.

If there's nothing else...
Butcher!

(man): What?
You will kill this woman!

Organ transplantation is still
impossible and you know it.

This woman has months
to live, possibly less.

She is a willing participant.

Fear and convention
would condemn her to death.

I bow to neither.
(indistinct chatter)

♪
Clamp.

Sponge.

We're close.
Bring out the organ.

Ligature.

There's too much blood.
I have to cauter.

She's still bleeding.
Shall I put it back on ice?

No! Get me a sponge.

We've used them all.
Well, then run the suction.

It's running.
Do it faster! Dammit!

Clamps! Suction!
(suspenseful music)

Sponges, get me something!
I can't see anything!

There's too much blood! Yes.

Argh!

(soft music)

Ladies and gentlemen,
the surgery was unsuccessful.

♪

death.

He must have nicked
the abdominal aorta.

Is that common?
Not for an experienced surgeon.

And if that is what happened,
he should have noticed

right away!
That poor woman!

What a way to die! In front
of a roomful of spectators...

Surely, she consented
to the surgery.

She may not have known the risks.

This Dr. Lennox could have
misrepresented his abilities.

Or he simply made a mistake.
You there,

you're the detective, yes?
That's right.

I have a crime to report: sabotage.

Sabotage?
How is that possible?
I don't know. But my patient

is dead, and it had
nothing to do with me.

Well, you're the surgeon,
surely you're responsible.

Who are you?
Dr. Julia Ogden, city coroner.

You cut up the dead;
I am a surgeon.

I have an instinct for
the living flesh under my knife.

There is no doubt
something was terribly wrong

from the first incision.
Do you have evidence?

This very morning,
some hours before the surgery,

I double checked
all my equipment only to find

that my tank of anaesthetic
had been drained.

Luckily, I had time
to obtain a replacement

and didn't have to cancel the operation.

But then, that wouldn't have
affected the operation itself.

No. But where there is sabotage,
there is more sabotage.

Whoever did this must be
found out and punished.

(woman): There you are.
♪

How exactly is this my fault?
Whose fault is it then?

Why does it have to be
anyone's fault?!

Everything is someone's fault, Thomas!
You are always pushing him.

I'm his father,
I'm supposed to push him.

We can't both sit around
molly-coddling the boy.

He could do anything
he wanted with his life.

He could be a lawyer

or a dentist or...

or write Canada's greatest novel,

and instead...
You asked for me, Inspector?

Margaret?

Did you ask him to come in here?

I can't... I don't...

Get back to the recruits.

I'll be over there shortly.
Sir.

And shut the door!

Is this really
what you wanted for him?

And what exactly is wrong
with being a policeman?

He could do so much more
with his life.

Is that right?
Well, if you hadn't noticed,

you're married to a policeman.

You sleep with a policeman.

(small sigh)

But this is John

and he was made for better things.

I'll fix it.

Thank you.

♪
(indistinct conversations)

Excuse me? Is it true

the medical school
is accepting ladies this year?

It is. The school is going
to be co-educational
for the first time,

and we're seeking
female applicants.

We could meet doctors!
(young women giggling)

Dr. Gowland of Cambridge
University has done
remarkable research

with animals in his laboratory.
So, in growing confidence,

the medical community
is convinced that human health

is tied with nutritional factors
in our foods.

So these amines
are the foundation

for human vitality. So I like
to call them vitalamines!

You both know, I'm not one
to stand in the way of progress,

but I have to say
this whole transplant business

makes me very uncomfortable

Why is that, George?

Sir, what if Dr. Lennox
had succeeded?

I mean, where does it stop?
What's to keep anybody

who has anything wrong with him
from simply

getting rid of the broken bit
and swapping it out

with a new part.
Would that be so bad?

Well, first off,
where are we finding

all these... kidneys
and spleens and elbows?

From the dead, George.

Accident victims,
people in comas

with no hope of recovery.
In the case of the kidneys,

we each have two, and we can
survive with only one.

Yes, but where does it end?
Where does what end?

The madness, sir.
Say I gave you a kidney,

and I would without question,
but then you say,

"Oh, George, you've lovely
penmanship, I wish I had
your hands", and I say,

"Sir, I've always admired
your strong chin

and square jawline,
perhaps we should trade."

What's to keep us from doing so?
And then I say,

"Because you have my kidney,
perhaps you should throw in

one of your calves, finely
shaped from avid cycling."

I mean, my point is,
once we swapped

legs and arms and necks,

surely at some point,
I cease to be me

and become... you.

George, I highly doubt

either of us would survive all that.

Especially given
our current success rate.

And there are a great
many variables to master.

As you'll see when we begin.

Shall we begin?
Doctor.

Mrs. Sheen's abdominal aorta is intact

and all of the incisions
were perfectly made,

so I have to admit Dr. Lennox
is a fine surgeon.

He did nothing wrong, then?
Not to the body,

but it appears he didn't
properly examine the blood.

Why would he examine her blood?

In advance of any major surgery,

one must ensure
that the body is fit enough
to withstand a bodily trauma,

and I believe he missed something.

So there was no sabotage,
he was negligent?

Well, it's clear that she died
from excessive blood loss,

so I used a haemocytometer
to analyse her cells

and discovered that her blood plaque

was far below normal levels.
And blood plaque

is a chief factor in blood clotting.

She wasn't a haemophiliac,
but any responsible surgeon

would have refused
to put her under the knife.

Haemophiliac?! Impossible!

Not haemophilia,
but with blood nearly as weak.

Impossible. Impossible.

I examined Mrs. Sheen's blood
myself this past Tuesday.

Every result was as expected.

Perhaps you saw the results that enabled you

to proceed with the operation.
Why would I need to?

Do you have any idea
how many people in this world

are nearing death
from a failing of the kidneys?

Hundreds, thousands,
perhaps millions.

I'm afraid I can't simply take your word for it,

Dr. Lennox.

I still have the vial.

Of Mrs. Sheen's blood?
Indeed.

In my refrigerated chest.
It's labelled "Sheen",

possibly with an initial.

I'll wait right here if you like.

I will be proved correct.

♪

He's right.

The plaque is normal.

So the patient's blood was healthy

only days before the operation.
Unless Dr. Lennox is lying

to us and this isn't
actually her blood.

So he could get away with killing her

on a public stage?
That makes no sense.

There's no other explanation
for the discrepancy.

Unless he's correct

and someone did indeed
sabotage his operation.

By sabotaging
the patient herself.

(people laug♪

All we know is the patient
had normal blood plaque one day

but not the next. And usually,
this kind of problem

is caused
by hereditary factors

or problems
with the thyroid.

It would seem
someone did this intentionally;

we simply don't know how.

Where's bloody Watts?

He asked for a couple
of days off, sir.

Thinks he can wander in and out of this
station house and do as he pleases.

Sir, our case?

Hmm? Oh, yes. Right

So the question is,
who wanted to see her dead?

Or who wanted to discredit
the surgeon?

That's mad.
There was a man in the crowd

who called him a "butcher",

but we have no leads
on identifying him.

I'm willing to bet
that someone wanted

this woman out of the picture.
Start with the husband.

♪
Oi, lads, listen up!

This is John Brackenreid.

Now, you are to treat him as
you would any other new recruit.

Any other new recruit who
could have you sacked
at the drop of a hat.

(men laughing)
Alright then, John,

you're with me.
I'll show you the Wilton beat.

Oi, Brackenreid.
Where do you think you're going?

Constable Crabtree
is gonna show me his beat.

No he's not. I've got work
for you to do around here.

Yes, sir.

See that bunch of drunks?
Yes.

Round them up,
throw them in the cells.

Yes, sir.

Inspector,

you remember the last time
we had that lot in the cells?

Oh, I remember just fine.
Don't you worry, Crabtree,

it won't be you that's
on clean-up duty this time.

Hahahahahaha!

Mr. Sheen!

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

Yes? How can I help you?

Taking a trip somewhere?

Oh, just a little holiday,
take my mind off things.

Just a moment, dear.

I know this looks
like I am the lowest of swine.

Perhaps not.
Perhaps she's your daughter.

You must understand. My wife
was near death for years.

I'm sorry to say this,
Mr. Sheen, but we believe

your wife was murdered.
What?! How?!

By that doctor?
We don't know,

but we suspect
foul play was involved.

Oh...

Oh, say, I... I know
how this looks,

but I didn't do a thing
to poor Regina.

Did anyone wish
your wife harm recently?

There were some men
who came to see us.

They left poor Regina
quite distraught.

Who were they?
It was people from the Church.

The ones who protested
at that operation.

What do they call themselves?
The Christian Scientists.

Therefore, metaphysics

resolves things
into thoughts and exchanges

the objects of sense
for ideas of Soul.

The testimony
of the material senses

is neither absolute
nor divine.

Human philosophy has made

God manlike.

Christian Science makes

man Godlike.

In closing, I will recite

a benediction
from the Pulpit and Press.

"Divine presence, breathe Thou Thy blessing
on every heart in this house."

Amen.
(congregation): Amen.

Thank you.

So well done.
Thank you.

Pardon me.

Detective William Murdoch,
Constable George Crabtree

of the Toronto Constabulary.
Oh.

Did you enjoy
what you heard of my sermon?

I can't say I followed much of it.

Many of the congregates here in Canada

need a little extra help
with their science.

And you are?

Mary Baker Eddy
of course.

I'm so glad that you're
interested in our Church.

Mr. Gable, would you find some
literature for these young men?

Certainly.
We're not here to discuss

your teachings per se.
Well...

(Murdoch clearing his throat)
No.

We were told that some
of the members of your Church

visited Mrs. Sheen prior
to her transplant operation.

Well, such an operation defies our belief

that a medical procedure of any kind

is an assault upon the body.

Who exactly visited her?

Myself and a couple of others,
Danvers and Lamotte, but--

Yes, but no member
of our congregation would ever

wish harm upon another soul.
Now if you'll excuse me,

I'm very tired.
Good day, gentlemen.

Uh, Mr. Gable,
we'll need a word.

Are the men
that you mentioned here today?

Yes, but as I was
trying to say,

we never spoke to Mrs. Sheen,
only her husband.

Well, he said she was
quite distraught.
Well, she was,

but it wasn't us who upset her.
Her husband excoriated us

and sent us away
before we had a chance

to explain that the man speaking
to his wife was not
one of our number.

There was someone already
there when you arrived?
Mhm.

Can you describe him?
Dark hair,

middle-aged.

Serious man, scowling, severe.

I saw him again at the surgery.

He was the one who called
Dr. Lennox a butcher.

Vitality and health in a
bottle. All the necessary amines

from your food
distilled into a single pill.

Thank you.
(indistinct chatter)

I see you know
what you're talking about.

Of course.
I only mean

most people selling remedies
don't know a thing

about modern medicine.
Are you a doctor?

I'm at a medical
exposition, aren't I?

That doesn't answer the question.

How do you know so much about amines?

I can read.

You know, you can
learn a lot that way.

So you're self-taught.
It's impressive.

That served me well enough.
Would you like to try
a vitalamine?

I think you might find it
quite rejuvenating.

Where did you get this?
There's a blood booth

around the corner. You just have
to be able to read the signs.

Blood coagulation is my speciality.

That's my brand new pamphlet
on the very topic.

I wonder if you know

of any substance
foreign to the body

that inhibits coagulation?
Certainly.

There are a few,
though it's a rather new topic.

In particular, I'm curious
about what might affect

blood plaque.
I can think of only one thing.

Acetylsalicylic acid,

better known as aspirin.

Aspirin?
The pain-relief pills?

Indeed. I only recently discovered

the side effect while testing
some of my own blood

in the wake of a nasty ache
in the head.

How well known is this?
Not very.

You won't find it in the pamphlet,

but anyone who's visited
my booth could know.

I have been crowing about it all week.

Dr. Lennox's heckler may be
of more interest in this case

than we'd first thought.
But you don't have his name.

No. George is having a sketch
made up from his description.

What is it you think he did?

He went around
to this woman's house

the day before her operation
and somehow made

her blood not work?
I may have an answer.

Aspirin.
Aspirin? The pills?

A little-known side effect
inhibits blood plaque.

I tested the victim's blood and
found it in high concentration.

Maybe she was in pain.

I re-examined the body

and found an injection mark
on the back of the upper arm.

Only gas was used
during the surgery.

So someone stuck her with a needle.

I believe so. Between 12
and 24 hours before she died.

Precisely during
the time frame that our
mystery man was seen with her.

Also, the side effect
is a recent discovery.

The killer may well have
learned of it at the exposition.

We need to know
if this man visited your booth

earlier this week.
He certainly did.

That's Dr. Ridgeway.
He's a doctor?

A surgeon in fact.
He works in transplants,

though I believe he has mostly
experimented with animals.

And you spoke with him
about aspirin?

At length. He took
a keen interest in my findings.

Do you know where we might be
able to find him?

I know he's in Toronto
specifically for the exposition.

I assume he's staying at one of the hotels.

Dr. Anton Ridgeway.
Thank you, Doctor.

Thank you.
Good people,

may I have your attention.
I have excellent news.

After the most unfortunate
outcome of yesterday's surgery,

so barbarically sabotaged
by outside forces,

my team and I are ready to make
a second attempt.

Oh my...
This is Mr. Robert Heins.

Tomorrow, he will be
the healthy, happy recipient

of the world's first

human-to-human organ transplant!

(applause)

There he is. That's Ridgeway.

You're a madman!
Stop!

(dramatic music)
Drop it!

Drop it!
You are no doctor.

Go back to your goats!

Dr. Ridgeway,
you are under arrest.

He has to be stopped!
Don't you see?

He has to be stopped!
That's enough.

All right, all right,t, all ri

you've caught me red-handed,
there's no point in denying it,

but it's Lennox who should hang.
He's a murderer.

He performed the surgery,

but Mrs. Sheen died because of you.

Me? I had nothing to do with that.

We found evidence
that the surgery was sabotaged.

She was poisoned, in effect,
the day before the operation.

And you happened to have been
with her that very evening.

I was trying to tell her
not to go through with it.

Just a kindly conversation, was it?

I implored her to withdraw
and she became upset.

It was for her own good.

That monster was planning
to slaughter her in front

of a crowd of spectators, and
he went ahead and did just that.

Or that monster was about
to beat you at your own game.

What are you saying?
You're a transplant surgeon.

This upstart came along
to steal all your glory.

Medical science is not ready
for a human organ transplant.

If we fail now, on the public stage,

it will set the entire endeavour

back years, even decades.
I had to stop him,

even at cost to myself.
Is it merely

a coincidence then that you've
recently taken an interest

in the effects of aspirin.
Aspirin? What of it?

You asked Dr. Kemp about
its anticoagulant properties.

Yes, but--
And you used a needle

to give some to Mrs. Sheen
knowing full well

what it would do to her.
I did no such thing.

I am a surgeon, I keep myself
abreast of the latest research

so I can avoid
tragedies like this.

Lives are at stake.
Lennox is a killer, not me.

♪

Here. See this?
(snatches of conversation)

Hello.

You've returned.

I wanted to hear more about
your ideas on fertilization.

The key is to isolate
the female chromosomes

from the male.
Yes, but let's imagine

for a moment that you didn't
care about the sex of the child.

But that is all I care about.

Well, then let's take that aspect as a given.

The rest is simple.
One merely needs

to encourage conception
at the time of insemination.

And how would that be accomplished?

There are several avenues.

Female fertility
has been long been ignored

by male researchers.

We knew more a thousand years ago

than we do today.
Is that so?

Oh yes.

My research on the matter.

May I read this?

Alright.

Thank you.

So, what do you think?

He attempted to assault the doctor,

but we have no evidence
that he went as far as murder.

He had motive.
He wanted to do it, he did it,

and now he's lying
to spare himself the noose.

Yes, sir, but motive alone is not enough.

Particularly given how many people

wanted to see this transplant fail.

Including the husband.

Wasn't he already stepping out
with some trollop?

Yes, but I believe him

to be honest,
even if he is callous.

Now, the most suspicious
character in all of this

is Dr. Lennox himself.

Right. On to more pressing
matters. Carry on, Murdoch.

Inspector, the cells are clean.

What, all of them?
Yes, sir.

I want them as clean
as a kitchen counter.

I'm prepared to eat my dinner
directly off the floor, sir.

So what now, inspector?
Should I head out on patrol?

No. It's shining day,
Brackenreid.

Shining day, sir?
Yes, Crabtree,

bloody shining day.
You're shining the boots

of every constable
in this station house.

Yes, sir.

Inspector,

don't you think you're being
a little hard on the boy?

I'm just putting a new
constable through his paces.

I don't remember having
to perform any of these duties

on my first week.
You'll be doing them this week

and the week after
if you're not careful, sunshine.

(phone ringing)

♪
Constable Crabtree.

♪
(indistinct chatter)

The saboteur was stealing my organ.

The very organ that will save a man's life

in mere hours from now.
I apprehended him myself.

You tied him up?! George--
Of course.

I got him
dead to rights.

Was a gag really necessary?

(Mary Baker Eddy): Dear God,
what has happened here?

It appears there's been a citizen's arrest.

Who did this? Was it you?

You monster!
How have I suddenly

been cast as the villain of this piece?

Your friend here already killed
one of my patients

and now he's tried
to do it again.

Sir--
He did no such thing.

Christian Scientists abide by the law,

even if we disagree with it.
And if not for that,

you would have felt my wrath
by now, sir, I assure you.

The man tried to steal my kidney!

Enough!
George, take Dr. Lennox

and ensure that his property
hasn't been damaged.

Yes, sir. I will. But I found
this in Mr. Gable's pocket.

Dr. Lennox.
Detective, please.

All I did prior to the surgery was switch out

the doctor's anaesthetic.
I didn't kill anyone.

Mr. Gable, I'm not sure
I can believe you.

What is this?

A pamphlet on blood coagulation.

It was in Mr. Gable's pocket.

It's true.
Ah...

It's mine.
Mr. Gable, the man

who gave you this pamphlet
recently discovered

a side effect of aspirin.

A side effect which enabled
Mrs. Sheen to be murdered.

(Mrs. Eddy): You're a killer?!
No.

That is not befitting for a Scientist!

No. I don't know anything
about the murder.

Why would you, a Christian Scientist,

be researching medical discoveries

that fly in the face of your beliefs?

Yes, why would you, Mr. Gable?

♪

Because I'm a fraud.
A fraud?

You can't understand.

The pain is unbearable.

I've prayed to no end.

It hurts so terribly
I can barely function.

I had to see a doctor, I had to.

♪
What is your ailment?

Strangulated hernia.
Requires surgery.

I've been learning all I can
about every aspect.

I'm terrified.

I will pray for you,
Mr. Gable.

Thank you, Mrs. Eddy.

Though I'm no longer sure
it will do any good.

You could help people more
with some training, you know.

How do you mean?
You could do
your own research,

create even better supplements.
Now, why would I do that

when people buy these ones?
You don't want to help people?

Do these pills actually do anything?

Or are you just parroting jargon

you've stolen from real doctors?
And what if I am?

They still make
people feel better.

No.
Real medicine actually makes people better.

I'm just trying to make
a living, and I'm making

a fine one.
Oh.

Thank you for your advice
all the same.

♪

♪

Julia, I thought
you'd be at the surgery.

I'm curious about the result,
but I'd rather not

witness another death.
Did you arrest your suspect?

Mr. Gable's doctor
confirmed his story

about his upcoming operation.
He was against the transplant,

but we've no evidence
that he's our killer.

Why risk jail
to stop the operation?

He felt he was failing
his religion,

wanted to atone.

Detective. You might
find this interesting.

"The Mad Butcher of Milan."

What is this?
It's a news article

from the continent.
I've only just received it.

It's about a failed surgeon?
Not a failed surgeon.

A veritable killer
The man killed three women

on the operating table in
the span of only a few months.

Surgeons lose patients all the time.

Do they?
Through experimental surgery?

Dr. Ridgeway,

I fail to see
the relevance here.

This is about
a Dr. Julius Henthorne.

Oh, indeed. Apparently,
his reputation followed him

across the Atlantic.
Dr. Henthorne legally changed

his name only last month.

He now goes by Bertram Lennox.
(dramatic music)

The surgery is about to start.

Clamp.

(suspenseful music)

(indistinct talking)

Oh, there it is.

Hmm... Oh my, that is disgusting!

Please. That is my husband.

♪
Oh...

I didn't mean disgusting
in a bad way.

I'm sure he'll be fine.

George.

Sir, he's removed the kidney already.

Then there's nothing we can do.

Perhaps you could step in.

Not at this stage.

Dr. Lennox is the only one with
any hope of helping him now.

What if he kills him?

We can only hope
that he doesn't.

♪

Ladies and gentlemen,

the surgery is complete,

and the patient is alive.

(exclamations of approval)
(man): Well done, Doctor!

(applause)

(sigh)

Detective, I'm so pleased
you could join me

for this momentous
accomplishment.

I'm glad the patient survived,
Dr. Lennox.

Or do you prefer Henthorne?

I just completed the first
human-to-human organ transplant;

which name do you think will
sound best in the history books?

You killed three people
in Milan last year.

Ahem! And?
And one also died

under your knife
here in Toronto.

The business of saving lives comes at a cost.

If that cost is a single life, fine.

Four single lives...

so far.
Four lives?

You accuse me of losing four lives?

Four lives is nothing.

Anyone with a conscience
would disagree.

It is those who stand in my
way who are without conscience.

I carry the weight
of those four lives,

and I do it gladly.

I do it for the world,
for the future, for humanity.

I will save millions.
And in doing so,

I will not merely prolong life,
but through the procreation

of those I save,
I will create life.

If I am a murderer,

then so too is God a murderer.

♪

John? Surely,
your shift ended hours ago.

I'm just finishing this last
pair. I'm getting faster though.

I can get a true mirror shine
in less than 90 minutes.

Shall I do yours next?

You don't need
to polish my boots.

The Inspector said every pair
in the Station House.

John, it's true
that your father

is hard on everybody,

but, I mean,
this... this goes beyond.

He's being hard on me
because I'm his son.

Doesn't matter to me, though.
I'll show him I can take it.

You're a young man.
I mean, you could do anything;

why are you so intent
on becoming a policeman?

Well, it's the most
honourable job I know.

Constable Brackenreid,
how's it going with those boots?

I've shined nearly every pair
in the Station House, sir.

Fine.
Will I be on patrol tomorrow?

We'll see.

You can finish the boots
tomorrow morning.

Uh, you can take
the streetcar home.

Thank you, sir.

Listen,
a few of the lads and I

are gonna go out for a drink,
why don't you come with us?

Really? Yes, sir,
I'd like to.

Excellent. And you don't call
me sir. We're both constables.

More importantly,
answer me this:

if I took the brain of a cat
and put it into a dog,

would I have a cat or a dog?
A dog.

See, that's what
these two said.

But you're not considering.
If-if-if the soul resides

in the mind, and the mind
isn't the brain...

then surely, in essence,
you're still a cat.

(small chuckle)

(Murdoch): Do you think him
a megalomaniac?

(sighing): That's likely.

Then he could be
a psychopathic personality.

Most doctors are megalomaniacs,

particularly surgeons.

It's seen by young men to be
a career filled with glory.

There's no glory
in failed transplants.

And a maniacal killer
wouldn't kill

the first victim
and save the second.

That makes no sense.
He was awfully lucky.

Lennox?

No, the second patient.

How so?
Think of it.

All of the millions of people who have died

of kidney failure throughout history;

what are the chances he comes
along at the precise moment

to be the first person ever
to get a new one?

That is lucky.

And doubly so
given that he was never intended

to receive the transplant
in the first place.

He would have died
if it wasn't for a murder.

Perhaps he made his own luck.

Really, Detective, he can't be
speaking to anyone right now.

His condition is that dire?
The surgery was a success,

that is a doubtless fact, but
his body will need time to heal.

How confident are you that he will?

(sighing)

I don't know.

So it's possible
he may not recover.

The kidney is not yet
functioning. If it doesn't,

it is unlikely
his condition will improve.

If he passes
before I can speak with him,

I may never learn the truth
about Mrs. Sheen's murder.

No, he couldn't have done it.
Why do you say that?

I know what you're insinuating,

but that poor man
has been ill for months.

How exactly do you suppose
he murdered someone?

Mrs. Sheen died
from an injection

that was administered
the day before the surgery.

It takes no strength at all
to use a syringe.

The day before the surgery,
you say? There you have it.

I was with my husband
all day and all evening.

It's impossible.

I'm not so sure.

But how could he have done it
if he never left his bed?

It's quite clear.

Mrs. Heins, I appreciate your testimony,

but I'm going to speak with your husband.

Mr. Heins.

I'm Detective William Murdoch.

I'm sorry to bother you,
but I have a few questions.

It's about the death
of Regina Sheen.

I... killed her.

♪

Yes.

You gave her an injection,
is that correct?

I... I wished...

I wished her dead

so many times.

I wished that she would die
so I could live.

Yes, but did you kill her
yourself? By your own hand?

♪

Mr. Heins,

did you visit Mrs. Sheen
the day before the surgery?

Or were you home all day
with your wife?

Yes...

I was with Jeannette.

So you didn't
visit Mrs. Sheen?

The two of you
were together all day?

Yes...

No.

I didn't go out,

but Jeannette...

Your wife...

Your wife left the house
that day?

She does everything for me.

Please.
Don't say any more.

I didn't do anything but pray.

Of course not.

You didn't do
anything wrong, my dear.

I love you, you know that.

I would do anything for you.
Anything at all.

Please...

Robert, don't leave me.

(Mrs. Heins sobbing)

♪

All right, Detective.

You can take me away now.

♪

What if I did want
to help people?

I beg your pardon?
Like you said I should.

If I wanted to help people,
what do you propose?

Well, you are aware

the University of Toronto
medical school

is now accepting female applicants.

So? Even if they wanted me,
I couldn't afford it.

If you were accepted,

I could arrange a scholarship
to pay for your tuition.

But that would only be

for someone
who really wanted to help.

Do I look like someone
who would fit in there?

Does that matter to you?

Probably not. But, um,

I can't afford
to just go to school all day.

Well, then you could work for me.

Work for you?
If you're accepted
into medical college,

I'll see to it that you have
what you need to get by.

And why would you
do that for me?

I'm not doing it for you.
I need an assistant.

It's hard work, it's long hours,

and it involves a lot of dead bodies.

But if you really want to help people,

I'm offering you a chance.
You're a real doctor?

Dr. Julia Ogden,
city coroner.

Violet Hart.

But I must warn you,

I have no intention
of being your assistant forever.

Well...

I would expect no less.

I'm sorry your transplant
was a failure.

A failure?
Not in the slightest.

One of your patients was
murdered and the other one died.

Yes, I failed to save
a life this week,

but an unsuccessful attempt
is not a failure

if that failure
is followed by success.

This, friends, was progress.

Good day.

He's right.
Progress requires risk.

Someone has to be
brave enough to take it on.

Hardly heroic
when the risk is only to others.

(indistinct chatter)
Could you wait a moment.

♪

think we should work together.

On what?

On your proposals

regarding hormones and reproduction.

Why would we do that?

It will take you a step toward your goals,

prove part of your concepts.

But why do I need you?

A few months ago,
I was in Chicago

visiting a doctor renowned
for his work in fertility.

"His."
(Ogden sighs.)

He couldn't help me, but he thinks

that I should be able to conceive.

You seem to be talking
around the point.

The point is
I want to see

if your ideas can truly cure
infertility in women.

I'll provide the necessary funding.

♪
Where would we find

a test subject
willing to undertake

experimental hormone replacements?

You misunderstand me.

The subject would be me.

(theme music)

Closed Captioning by
SETTE inc.

♪