Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 6, Episode 1 - Murdoch Air - full transcript

Detective Murdoch finds that the man behind a flying machine that crashes in Toronto is none other than his old nemesis, James Pendrick. He learns that Pendrick is hoping to win a $1 million prize for the first controlled flight. A body is found in the rubble of the crash but someone is clearly out to steal his invention. Murdoch also has to deal with Ottawa-based spymaster Terence Meyers who says it's all a national security matter. Meanwhile, Julia returns from Vienna intent on practicing psychiatry. She's also hoping to have her marriage to D'Arcy annulled.

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?


we're negotiating that.

It's Darcy!

Sir, get dressed quickly.
You have to see this.

What is it?

Get the children inside!

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.

- It's coming back.
- This direction.

It's not here, George.

You must have heard the sound
reflecting off of a building.


My God.

I believe it's landing.

Not landing.

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.


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.


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?

Yes, again.


Yes, and let it ring. It's
a matter of some importance

that I contact this man.

It crashed.


- 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?


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.

The Arrow.

Who's there?



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.

Mr. Pendrick?

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.

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?


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.

- 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.

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?


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?

Turn around.



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.


Well, then,

who stole it from you?

I have no idea.

Detective, what could you possibly
offer me that I don't already know?


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.

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!


Need a boost, sir?

Oh, get your bloody hands off me, lad!

Aw! Oh, bloody hell.


- 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.


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.

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?

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.


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?


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.

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.

I'll let you catch your breath.


- 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!


Now gently pull the stick towards you.


It's flying! We're flying!

What did you expect,
man? I'm James Pendrick!

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.

Fine work, Murdoch! Now let's aim for home.

Stop here!

- Brace yourself!
- What?


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.

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!


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.


So, we finally got to stik it to Meyers.

That's got to be worth a drinking itself.


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.


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!