Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 9, Episode 10 - The Big Chill - full transcript
Ah! Alright, it's not going anywhere!
Go ahead.
So soft...
Oh, sweet mother of... ! Sorry.
I didn't know you were real.
I'm George Crabtree. What's your name?
Yes. Very good.
Attention all! Proceed to your seats.
The great Captain Joseph Bernier
is about to take the stage
for today's lecture.
Where the Swedes and Yankees have failed,
I shall succeed.
- Sorry, these seats are taken.
- I shall make my mark!
A mark for Canada. I will be the first man
to set foot on the North Pole!
Thank you.
- Have we missed much, George?
- Just the exhibition part, sir,
and a chunk of the lecture.
I see you brought young Roland.
We are determined to live our
lives as we otherwise would.
Modern parents in a modern age.
... to purchase a new ship. And I ask
that you consider contributing
to this daring effort as well.
- Shall we make a small contribution?
- If you like.
That way Roland will grow up in a Canada
whose boundaries extend all
the way to the North Pole.
The heart and soul of any
expedition starts with her crew.
And I have the best in the world.
The CGS Arctic.
The best vessel money can buy.
Her first journey will test her resolve
- as much as it will mine.
- I'm sorry.
He's becoming restless. I
should walk him around outside.
- Julia, I can take him.
- No, William, stay.
- I'll be fine.
- The Inuit, or Eskimo as you know them, taught us
how to use them for ice travel.
Mr. Blair.
Take that off! Take that off!
I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen.
I apologize for that fright.
Another slide, Mr. Blair, please.
What are you doing, Blair?
Mais qu'est-ce que vous faites ?
Vous voulez bousiller ma
pr?sentation, c'est ?a ?
I'm talking about the future of Canada!
Est-ce que vous comprenez ?
L'avenir du Canada !
Sir, is this a part of the presentation?
I really don't think so, George.
Can't you see this?
Someone is trying to
sabotage my grand expedition!
- Well, that may be so...
- They want my funding withdrawn,
my ship taken away!
To put an end to this! The
fate of Canada is at stake!
Mr. Bernier, you yourself admit
the man died in your charge...
Men die all the time on such expeditions!
Entire crews perish!
Do you know of Sir John Franklin's journey?
Of course. Yet in this case,
someone believes you
personally responsible.
Sottises !
Before I investigate the
sabotage of your presentation,
I must first determine the
validity of their claims.
Comment osez-vous insinuer
une chose pareille ?
Vous êtes idiot ou quoi ?
Le plus t?t vous coop?rez
avec cet idiot, Mr. Bernier,
le plus t?t vous serez
lav? de tout soup?on.
Well...
maybe you'd care to see the body?
- You have the body?
- Yeah. At the local funeral home.
I understand you are a member
of Captain Bernier's crew?
Yes, I am his photographer.
I also took some moving pictures
of this most recent expedition.
- The ones in the nickelodeon?
- Yes.
- I quite liked that.
- Thank you.
Did you take the
photograph of the dead man?
Shortly after the body was found.
And as projectionist of this slide show,
I'm assuming you arranged the photographs.
Yes, but I surely did not put in
the ones accusing
Captain Bernier of murder.
His name was Arthur Pimblett.
A dear friend who was at my
side in all my expeditions.
A man of science and nature,
he served as my navigator
or doctor. I will miss him.
- How did he die?
- Whenever the ship was stationary,
Arthur explored the surrounding areas.
He dreamed of discovering
new species of wildlife, you know?
But he never returned
from that fateful walk.
- He got lost.
- Yeah.
Maybe he suffered from snow
blindness, and froze to death.
- How long after his disappearance was he found?
- Four days.
The search cost me valuable time.
I had to turn back or risk
running out of provisions.
- I'm told you have the body.
- Yes, such as it is.
Decomposition must be quite
advanced at this point.
Arthur died three months ago.
I preserved him the
best I could using salt,
but I'm afraid he's not cutting
as fine a figure as he once did.
Well, I eagerly await his arrival
at the city morgue. Gentlemen.
Bye.
Well, I do hope
- she's a better coroner than she is a mother.
- I beg your pardon?
- She hardly knows how to hold a baby!
- Oh, well, I...
Not fit for motherhood anyway. Too skinny.
- Monsieur Bernier...
- My wife has meat on the bones.
I like to know she'll
survive an angry winter
while I'm away.
Monsieur Bernier, the coroner is my wife.
Oh. To each his own.
Who might wish to suggest
that Mr. Pimblett's death
- was your doing?
- Who else? The Swedes!
Bjorn Nordenskjold.
He wants nothing more than
to beat me to the North Pole.
That's why he's in Toronto.
I see your slide show did not go so well,
Mr. Bernier. I hope you
don't lose your ship!
What of sending your men
to the North Pole in a hydrogen balloon?
It was six years ago and still no return.
Can we assume that was a failure?!
Je suis le plus grand
explorateur au monde !
Vous aviez pas d'affaire ? vous
montrer la face dans ma pr?sentation !
Le p?le Nord appartient au Canada !
I see.
Decomposition was indeed advanced.
Coupled with the salt used to preserve it,
the body became dry and shriveled.
- Mummified, if you will.
- I see you've given him a bath.
I'm hoping this Sodium Hydroxide mixture
will re-hydrate the body
near to its original form.
- Very resourceful, Julia. Have you tried this before?
- No.
But if it works, I
should be able to provide
a more complete picture of the
circumstances he died under.
Well then, I shall await the
results of Mr. Pimblett's bath.
Or I could tell you the
cause of the death right now?
You can?
He may well have wandered off
the ship as Mr. Bernier claims,
but I don't believe hypothermia killed him.
He was throttled, William.
My preliminary examination
revealed fractures of the hyoid bone
- and surrounding cartilage.
- Strangled.
- By ligature or manually?
- I can't say.
There's too much discolouration of the skin
to discern bruising patterns.
Either way, this man's
death was no accident.
- I tried to keep him away.
- It's not your fault, Miss James.
The Detective and I were distracted.
If you don't mind my saying,
perhaps the Morgue isn't
the safest place for a baby.
You should take him for a
while, while I continue here.
Strangled?
Ce n'est pas possible. It's impossible.
Arthur Pimblett was
murdered, Captain Bernier.
- I'm afraid to say.
- You claim to have no knowledge of this?
I won't dignify such a question.
Why don't you elaborate
on the circumstances
surrounding his disappearance, Captain?
Like I mentioned,
Arthur went on a walk and never came back.
My crew fanned out looking for him, but
it was too late.
Who found him?
An Inuit crew member, Nuniq.
Carried him three miles back to the boat.
Would he have had any reason
to want Mr. Pimblett dead?
Oh! Heavens no!
Arthur was closer to Nuniq than any of us.
It was Arthur's idea to
assimilate an Inuit into our crew.
You're from Quebec, Captain.
What brings you to Toronto?
This is where Arthur was born
and deserved to be buried.
And I also hope to find
his replacement here.
All the while asking the public
- to fund your next expedition.
- Well, Captain. If we have any further questions...
Of course. Of course, Inspector.
Oh, um,
if I had any involvement
in Arthur's murder,
do you think I would have
volunteered his body to you?
Well, you did express a lack of confidence
in our coroner's abilities.
Well, thank you, Captain.
I'll show you out.
You seem to have a bee in
your bonnet about the Captain.
And you seem to quite like him, sir,
which I find surprising given
how you feel about Frenchmen.
Well, he's not a Frenchman
Frenchman. He's a Canadian Frenchman.
And if he claims the North Pole for Canada,
he's also claiming it for the British Empire.
- Right.
- Oh, bloody hell, Murdoch, give him here.
Come on, Roland, little fella. Whoa!
Have you not you heard of a nanny, Murdoch?
Get him on your knee and bounce him.
Boo-boo-boo-boo-boo!
- That's working, sir.
- Yes.
Right. I'll get Crabtree
to interview Bernier's crew,
see if they can corroborate his story.
I can't go anywhere, sir, or do anything.
Just this...
Welcome to fatherhood, Murdoch.
Strangled? Who would do such a thing?
That's exactly what we're
trying to ascertain, Mr. Philips.
What exactly was your duty on
Captain Bernier's expedition?
Third Officer, technically. Though
of course I'm much more than that.
- How so?
- Captain's prot?g?.
I'm being groomed as his successor.
In me, he sees the same qualities
that made him a captain
by the age of twenty.
- I'll have my own ship before long.
- Best of luck with that.
I certainly won't be under someone
else's command in my thirties.
No, heaven forbid.
Can you explain to me the circumstances
around Mr. Pimblett's death?
Derek Frewen, First
Officer of the CGS Arctic.
- What's going on here?
- Perhaps you could help.
He said Arthur was strangled to death.
That can't be. He froze to death.
Nuniq found his body four days
later and returned it to the ship.
Bernier yelled at him when he did.
Not sure for what, but it was damn funny.
Captain Bernier was very upset
over the death of his dear friend.
Thank you, gentlemen.
- Mr. Nuniq, may I have a word?
- Yes, I am Nuniq.
I understand that you
discovered Mr. Pimblett's body
- and brought it back to the ship.
- Yes. Sad day.
And that when you arrived back at the ship,
Captain Bernier yelled at
you. Can you tell me why?
I say Arthur not have gloves on,
but Arthur always wear gloves
when exploring off ship.
What exactly did he yell at you?
- He say not my concern.
- Right.
Well, thank you, Mr. Nuniq.
- Just Nuniq. No Mister.
- Nuniq.
- Are you enjoying Toronto, Nuniq?
- Yes,
- my people would not believe.
- Oh, I daresay!
It's a city of almost a
quarter of a million people.
I should show you around.
Vast improvement.
I wish Roland took to baths with such ease.
- He puts up a fuss?
- Always,
but then maybe I'm not doing it right?
I question how well suited I
am to the tasks of motherhood.
- Well, maybe...
- Miss James, come look at this.
Sir, the crew seemed genuinely surprised
to hear that he'd been strangled,
yet I still get the sense
they're hiding something.
Did you speak with the Inuit
fellow who found the body?
Yes sir, Nuniq. He mentioned that
when he happened upon the body,
Pimblett was without gloves,
which obviously was unusual
due to the cold weather.
As if he had been forced off
the ship against his will.
- Did Mr. Nuniq...
- Just Nuniq, sir. No Mister.
Did Nuniq report the
inconsistency to Captain Bernier?
He did, sir, and apparently Captain Bernier
tore a strip off him
for making mention of it.
- William! You'll not believe...
- Shh!
We're trying to get him to sleep, Julia.
- I'm sorry.
- It's alright, it's alright.
- When I took Mr. Pimblett out...
- Well, there's no point whispering now, Doctor.
Right.
You were saying, Julia?
The benefits of the bath
revealed Mr. Pimblett
had a shackle around his right ankle.
He was imprisoned before his death?
Only one person would have
authority to do such a thing:
Captain Bernier.
Mr. Pimblett had been shackled.
Our coroner found evidence of it.
Just what did he do to
warrant imprisonment?
Poor, poor Arthur had gone mad.
I was forced to confine
my best friend in his
room, for his own safety
and that of my crew. He was mad.
Well then, how is it he came to
be three miles away from your ship?
He escaped.
I shackled him to a pipe
but he broke it and ran off.
Lord knows what he was thinking.
What was he doing?
I mean, how did this
madness manifest itself?
He was delusional,
even thought we were in the Pacific Ocean.
Drawing maps and babbling on about
- Pacific salmon.
- Pacific...
- Pacific salmon?
- I'm telling you, he was deranged!
Obsessed by the fish!
Why did you keep this from us?
To preserve his name, sir.
I'm sorry not to tell you before.
Are you now prepared to
tell us who strangled him?
I don't know nothing about it.
I swear to you, Detective.
I can only imagine that in his
crazed state, he wandered
into a hostile Inuit community.
You're suggesting that Mr.
Pimblett was killed by Inuit?
Wouldn't be the first time, sir.
Sir, I'm to speak with Nuniq this evening.
I'll ask him the likelihood that
Pimblett was killed by Inuit.
Or Nuniq himself, George.
We're very lucky to get a
table at this restaurant.
It's very popular
and, as you can see, very expensive.
No, no, no.
- Very sorry, please excuse me.
- I am Nuniq.
No, Nuniq.
Please pardon my friend.
He's not accustomed
to our customs. Nuniq...
Thank you.
Sir.
In my culture, we share everything.
My food is yours.
Your food mine.
In the beginning it was not mine, or ours.
Today it is not.
I like the sound of that.
In some ways, that's more
civilized than our society.
Sometimes it feels like everybody's
crawling over one another
for a bigger piece of the pie.
Shameful, really.
We are happy people.
Speaking of which, Nuniq,
do you think it's possible
that Mr. Pimblett happened
upon an Inuit tribe and
for whatever reason
met his end that way?
No.
I suppose you have no such thing
as murder in your culture either?
No, we do. But
there are no Inuit communities
near where I find Arthur.
Impossible.
Either white man from ship kill him,
or Qalupalik.
Qalupalik?
Pardon us.
We were wondering what "Nuniq" means?
Close your eyes.
That's what Nuniq means.
Join us, why don't you.
Please, have a seat.
There you go. You as well, of course.
Waiter, we'll have another round!
Here we are.
I am Crabtree! I am Nuniq!
Nuniq, someone should make a
moving picture of your time here.
Like the Arctic nickelodeon, but here.
"Nuniq of Toronto."
- "Nuniq of Toronto."
- Oy, shut it!
Oh, quiet yourself.
Nuniq, I do have one serious question.
Did you kill Arthur Pimblett?
No, we were friends.
We talk about fish
he draw in journal. Salmon.
- He had a journal? Can I see it?
- No.
Journal go missing after he die.
Ugh!
Did you say salmon?
Oh, how lovely.
His brain came out quite neatly.
It'll make for a most
satisfying dissection.
Now,
the honour of cutting the first
slice is yours, Miss James.
- I don't think I can, Dr. Ogden.
- Why not?
I might become sick on the subject.
You'll get over it. Now
come get your hands dirty.
We need to determine whether a tumour
was the cause of Mr.
Pimblett's supposed insanity.
After you, Captain.
The Eskimo said that Mr. Pimblett's
journal disappeared after he died.
- Do you know where might we find it?
- Non.
But why would anyone want that?
We don't know, but the fact that it's
missing may have to do with his murder.
I doubt that.
It was just drawings of fish
and random dates that only he understood.
But mostly fish.
- I'm telling you he was totally insane...
- Yes, he was insane. But
we only have your word for that.
Unfortunately, our coroner
didn't find anything in his
brain to explain his insanity.
Ask my crew, they will tell you the same.
Our constable is doing that now,
but I suspect they'll only tell
us what you want them to tell us.
What does it matter anyway?
Now that my reputation is unfairly
tarnished with Arthur's blood,
I'll never raise enough
money to get to the Pole.
Nor will I find his replacement.
Arthur was truly one of a kind, you know.
Gentlemen.
Don't lose faith, Captain.
If the Swedes do take the Pole,
before you know it, they'll
be marching south wanting more.
I can't allow that.
That's why you need to
be forthright with us.
The sooner we get this settled,
the sooner you'll be back on the ship.
- You get my word, Inspector.
- Then I wish you good luck for your lecture.
Thank you.
Maybe you'd care to make
a contribution yourself?
- What do I get in return?
- How do you mean?
Well, I'd be more inclined to
donate if I got something for it.
Say, a jar of Arctic ice from the Pole.
I'd pay ten dollars for that.
The crew was reluctant, sir,
but they eventually conceded
that during the expedition
Pimblett went insane.
Anything else, George?
Well, sir, the photographer, Mr. Blair,
he claims that Pimblett was already insane,
- or eccentric at the very least.
- How so?
Well, he claims that just
prior to the last expedition,
Pimblett adopted a vegetarian diet
and tried to subsist the whole
time on canned vegetables.
Well, unwise perhaps, but
far from convincing me the man was insane.
Also, sir, the crew says that
he'd become obsessed with salmon,
even though he never ate it,
he was continually sketching salmon.
Yes, I've heard all about the salmon.
Well, if he did go a bit
doolally, it at least explains
him being miles away from
the ship with no gloves on.
Well, insane or otherwise, we still
don't know who strangled him, or why.
Especially if we take Nuniq's word
that there were no Inuit nearby.
Sirs,
there is another explanation.
Qalupalik.
Now, in Inuit lore...
Sir, in Inuit lore, Qalupalik
is a human-like creature
and he crawls out of the sea,
with long stringy hair, and sharp
fingernails and webbed hands,
and a greenish hue to his skin.
And he wears a pouch, sirs,
and he takes his victims
and he stuffs them in his
pouch and he carries them...
Oh, never mind.
Never mind what?
I just remembered we still have
Mr. Pimblett's body, as where
Qalupalik carries his victims
down beneath the ocean forever.
After the brain dissection failed
to reveal any abnormalities,
we conducted blood tests, which
showed high levels of lead.
Lead?
Further examination of the cadaver's tibia
revealed dense metaphyseal lines,
- a classic symptom of lead poisoning.
- I see.
Other symptoms include delirium,
cognitive deficits,
and even hallucinations.
Well, then I suppose Captain Bernier
was telling the truth after all.
Lead poisoning is often the result of
exposure to contaminated soil or water.
It seems unusual that he would
be the only crew member to suffer.
He had adopted a vegetarian diet,
brought all of his own canned food aboard.
Perhaps the tins were contaminated?
If he was the only one to eat
from them that would explain it.
Well, then.
Thank you, Miss James, Dr. Ogden.
Young Master Murdoch.
Baba.
I do think motherhood suits
you just fine, Dr. Ogden.
Did you hear that?
Our fearless Prime Minister
has already contributed two
hundred thousand dollars, but
it's not enough.
I ask that you
consider contributing to
that most daring effort!
But I am not looking for a handout,
my fellow Canadians.
In return for your contribution,
you will receive a priceless
token of appreciation.
For ten dollars,
I'll bring back a jar
of genuine Arctic water
direct from the Pole.
That was my idea.
- Very enterprising, sir.
- And for five hundred dollars,
you may become a member of
the crew of the CGS Arctic!
Safe return not guaranteed.
Five hundred...
Margaret may have that in her cookie jar.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.
The rest is yours.
Oh. Mr. Frewen, a word please.
I'm quite busy, Detective. The
Captain needs all hands on deck.
Just why did Captain Bernier
insist on confining Mr. Pimblett?
What threat did he pose exactly?
Well, I suppose Mr. Pimblett
had become capricious,
- aggressive even.
- Toward Captain Bernier?
Yes.
In fact, he was so rife with
madness he tried to start a mutiny.
A mutiny?
Why?
He became convinced that the
Captain was leading us to death.
Did this mutiny gain any support?
With some of the more
impressionable crew, yes.
But thankfully the
Captain quashed the mutiny
after Mr. Pimblett's death and
fired those that betrayed him.
- Serves them right.
- Mr. Frewen!
Come and help!
Excuse me, gentlemen.
Don't speak to your superiors
like that, Mr. Philips.
I am First Officer. You're
merely Third Officer.
Oh, shut up and help me, you fool!
A mutiny, sir.
It gives Captain Bernier motive.
Mr. Pimblett must have discovered
something that threatened
Captain Bernier's future expeditions.
Including his attempt at the North Pole.
Arthur Pimblett started a mutiny.
That's why you shackled him, isn't it?
I shackled him because he was mad.
But he also started a mutiny.
Yes,
obviously out of madness.
But he was gaining support
with some of the crew members.
Perhaps that's why his
journal went missing.
It had details of the mutiny
which you wanted to keep a secret.
What are you suggesting?
That your friend had become
a threat to the expedition,
and to future ones.
That he believed that you were
leading your men to their death.
That if word of that got out,
the Canadian government may
reconsider giving you a ship.
So you think I killed my best friend?
It would have been easy
for you to strangle him
while he was shackled, and
make it appear as though
he wandered off to freeze to death.
That's quite an accusation, Detective.
It would also explain why Mr.
Pimblett was found without gloves on,
and why you yelled at
Nuniq for mentioning it.
I'm very hurt.
All I wanted was to keep
Arthur's madness a secret,
and now I'm being accused of his murder.
Captain Bernier,
did you murder Arthur Pimblett?
I will say no more.
Well, if there is evidence,
I will find it.
In the meantime, I'll be
holding you in our cells.
If he did it,
why would he bring the body all
the way back and hand it to us?
A guilty conscience, perhaps?
What we do know
of Bernier is that he ruled
his ship unconditionally
and was one of few who had access.
Pimblett had lead
poisoning. He was a crackpot.
How much of a threat could he have been?
Sir, any threat at all
gives the Captain motive.
Until he starts telling the
truth, I recommend we hold him.
Even if it means Canada won't
be the first to the North Pole?
Sirs, Canada may yet still be the first.
I've just been at the exhibition.
Mr. Philips has been named
Captain in Bernier's absence.
The Third Officer? That was bloody quick.
He's very young, sir,
but he's very ambitious
and is said to be very
talented. Something of a prodigy.
On whose authority?
The Government of Canada, sir.
It is their ship after all.
He convinced them he was up to the task.
I'm surprised the expedition
wasn't scrapped altogether.
Bernier's the world
authority on the Arctic.
Without him, it's doomed.
Maybe so,
but this promotion
gives Mr. Philips motive.
Sir.
Mr. Blair,
we're looking for Mr. Philips.
You won't find him here.
He's out celebrating his promotion.
Are you planning on leaving Toronto?
No, I live here.
But I am leaving the
employ of the CGS Arctic
now that Philips is Captain.
Why?
For all his talent, he's
inexperienced and far too ambitious.
He may get them to the Pole,
but I doubt if they make it back.
Why do you say that?
When Captain Bernier cut
the last expedition short
after Pimblett's death,
Philips nearly convinced him to press on.
I'm not about to risk my life
for the glory of someone who has little
or no regard for their crew's safety.
Thank you, Mr. Blair.
Uh, Mr. Blair,
is that the moving picture camera
you used to make the nickelodeons?
Yes,
why do you ask?
This will be an excellent nickelodeon.
"Nuniq of the North Visits Toronto."
Oh!
Not bad, eh? Not bad, eh? The kick.
Nuniq?
Oy.
Have you two retired?
What's this?
This eventually will
be my nickelodeon, sir.
Although I have lost my subject.
Have you not got work to do?
George insists that this is work.
Coming up here, sirs.
Right there.
Isn't that Mr. Nordenskjold
dining with Mr. Philips?
Just last night, sir.
Canada's new Captain
dining with our chief rival.
Bloody Swedes.
Good work, George.
Congratulations on your
promotion, Captain Philips.
Thank you.
How did you celebrate?
I enjoyed dinner with friends.
These friends?
Just what were you doing having dinner with
high-ranking Swedes when you're to
be Captain of a government-sanctioned
Canadian expedition?
They wanted to speak with me.
What about?
To see whether I might captain
their ship to the North Pole.
- Don't they have captains of their own?
- Yes,
but Captain Bernier is
the best in the world,
and as his prot?g?,
I am the next best thing.
- And what did you say?
- That I would consider it.
Though I doubt they could
outfit a finer vessel
than the CGS Arctic anyway.
You would betray your country?
I only care about being the
first man to the North Pole,
whether it's under the
flag of Canada or Sweden.
I see them only as sponsors.
That traitor should bloody hang.
Maybe so. Yet no law has been broken.
We'll see about that.
I sent Crabtree to search his room
while you were interviewing him.
And it's true that he's one of the few
who could have stolen the
negatives leading up to the show.
And now he's leveraging
his newfound position
to solicit offers from the Swedes.
Unless, sir, he's been working
with the Swedes the entire time.
Mr. Pimblett caught on to him and
that's why he was killed?
Philips then tries to pin it on
the Captain and take his ship.
Sirs,
I found Pimblett's missing journal
in Mr. Philips' room.
Arrest him, George.
Sir.
Mais en tout cas,
- c'est certainement possible...
- What's going on?
Sir, Mr. Pimblett wasn't insane.
Well, he was insane,
but he made a brilliant discovery.
A discovery that I dismissed.
Well, what is it?
A yet-to-be-attempted
route to the North Pole.
Daring in scope,
but brilliant in its simplicity.
Every explorer has attempted to
reach the North Pole from the east.
But, by studying carefully the
weather patterns and natural currents,
Mr. Pimblett suggested that
one could reach the North Pole
from the west, through the Bering Strait.
Well, what's so brilliant about that?
This was long thought to be impossible.
The distance from the nearest
point of land is much further.
He Theorized that if you left at
the exact right time from the west
and allowed the ship
to become locked in ice,
the weather patterns and
ocean currents would carry you
right to the North Pole.
- That sounds crackers.
- Exactly.
But it's brilliant.
His theory was validated
when he discovered salmon,
pacific salmon locked in
ice in the east Arctic.
Just as a ship would be,
were it to be locked in ice,
having left from the west.
But the final map detailing how
to accomplish this is missing.
It's been torn out of the journal.
That bloody weasel Philips must have it.
I didn't steal the journal, I...
- I don't know how it wound up in my room.
- Where's the map?
What map?
- The map detailing how to get to the North Pole from the west.
- The west?
I don't have such a map.
Although the Swedes did mention
something about a new route.
- What did they say?
- They were vague,
but they mentioned something about a
new route to the Pole from the west.
I thought they were as insane as Pimblett.
My prot?g?.
Shame on you for talking to the Swedes.
So the Swedes approached you with this
information, not the other way around.
Then the Swedes must have the map.
But how did they get it?
Someone from your crew came
across Mr. Pimblett's diary,
murdered him for it and
sold the map to the Swedes.
I'm afraid one of your
men is working for them.
A traitor? In my midst?
But why would the Swedes turn around and
approach Philips to be their Captain?
In addition to gaining a captain,
they would be leaving Canada without one.
Then the traitor must be a crew member here
in Toronto, to have sabotaged
my slide show as well.
What's that, Crabtree?
Oh, sorry, sir, it's my nickelodeon.
I'm just finishing it up.
Even though Nuniq abandoned you?
I wouldn't say he
abandoned me, sir. We just
haven't been spending as
much time together lately.
I hear he's quite the man about town.
It's true, sir.
I'm glad. I'm glad he's
meeting new people in Toronto.
Heaven knows where he's been sleeping.
Nuniq! There you are!
I've been worried about you.
Can I come back to your home to stay?
- Yes, of course.
- I miss home.
I want to go back,
but I don't trust the new
Captain can make safe journey.
The new captain, Mr. Philips,
he's in our jail cells.
No,
Derek Frewen is the new Captain now.
The First Officer?
Frewen has been made the new
Captain of the CGS Arctic.
Pff! Ridiculous!
Frewen is a reliable First
Mate, but a hopeless leader!
Doesn't mean he doesn't
have ambitions for more.
Frewen is the traitor.
Betrayed by my own First Mate.
Let's say he came across
Mr. Pimblett's journal,
he recognized its value,
and murdered him for it.
By pinning the murder on
you, he would be eliminating
all of Sweden's competition.
Then he shares Pimblett's
western route with the Swedes.
But when Mr. Philips became Captain,
Mr. Frewen felt passed over,
so he attempted to frame him by
placing the journal in his room.
And according to Nuniq,
Frewen has himself a
train ticket to Vancouver.
Where he'll assemble his own
crew and head for the North Pole.
To claim it for bloody Sweden.
He's been the traitor all along.
George.
Sir,
there's Mr. Frewen now.
Oh, Mr. Frewen!
Stop!
Drive!
- Drive! Go!
- Stop!
- Hey!
- Out of the way!
Hurry, Frewen!
I'm free!
And I'm going to take
the North Pole for Sweden!
- I'm gonna leave...
- Get in, you fool!
Long live Sweden!
Sir, should we give chase?
I don't think so, George.
We have the man we want.
They're not going to be getting anywhere
near the North Pole without this.
Long live Sweden.
Mr. Frewen, you are under arrest
for the murder of Arthur Pimblett,
and for treason.
Long live Canada.
I suppose you'll be heading back home now
that Captain Bernier's been reinstated.
Yes. I miss family.
Thank you for Toronto, Crabtree.
You certainly made the most of it.
I have something for you.
"Nuniq of the North in Toronto."
This way, your family can
share in the experience.
Mr. Blair said he'd project it for you.
Thank you, Crabtree.
Nuniq means kiss.
No, I just say that.
"Kunik" means kiss.
So what does Nuniq mean?
Another time.
Merci. Thank you all for
your generous support.
Captain.
I see the fundraising
campaign is a success.
Would you like to join my expedition?
- Well, I'm flattered...
- Not you, Inspector.
You, Detective.
- Me?
- Yeah.
You're a man of science,
and by translating Arthur's journal,
you proved yourself a worthy replacement.
If you need a real seaman,
you take me, not Murdoch.
That may be, Inspector.
But there can be only one Captain,
and you, my friend,
you're a Captain as well.
Ahh. Captain of Station House Number Four.
Well.
Captain.
You know,
Captain Bernier asked me to
join him on his expedition.
- Did he now?
- Hmm.
But I told him I could not accept
on account of being a father.
And how long would the expedition take?
Four years.
Give or take a year.
But if not for being
a father, you would go?
Leaving me here for four years?
You would wait for me, Julia.
Oh...
Don't be so sure.
Speaking of being a
father, where is our child?
Right this way.
It replicates the motion of
bouncing him on one's knee.
- Look how happy he is.
- Yes, he's our gleeful bouncer.
I could use one of those at the morgue.
That's why I've made three:
one for the morgue, one for
here and one for my office.
That way, Roland can remain occupied
while we go about our work.
- We'll never miss a moment.
- No.
No.
On an all-new Murdoch...
"Clubbed" to death.
Do you recognize this putter?
Golf is a curse, Murdoch,
don't you forget it.
Cracking the case...
Quite pleasurable.
New information has come to light.
... will take a stroke of genius.
I've had an idea.
Murdoch Mysteries,
next Monday at 8:00 on CBC.
Go ahead.
So soft...
Oh, sweet mother of... ! Sorry.
I didn't know you were real.
I'm George Crabtree. What's your name?
Yes. Very good.
Attention all! Proceed to your seats.
The great Captain Joseph Bernier
is about to take the stage
for today's lecture.
Where the Swedes and Yankees have failed,
I shall succeed.
- Sorry, these seats are taken.
- I shall make my mark!
A mark for Canada. I will be the first man
to set foot on the North Pole!
Thank you.
- Have we missed much, George?
- Just the exhibition part, sir,
and a chunk of the lecture.
I see you brought young Roland.
We are determined to live our
lives as we otherwise would.
Modern parents in a modern age.
... to purchase a new ship. And I ask
that you consider contributing
to this daring effort as well.
- Shall we make a small contribution?
- If you like.
That way Roland will grow up in a Canada
whose boundaries extend all
the way to the North Pole.
The heart and soul of any
expedition starts with her crew.
And I have the best in the world.
The CGS Arctic.
The best vessel money can buy.
Her first journey will test her resolve
- as much as it will mine.
- I'm sorry.
He's becoming restless. I
should walk him around outside.
- Julia, I can take him.
- No, William, stay.
- I'll be fine.
- The Inuit, or Eskimo as you know them, taught us
how to use them for ice travel.
Mr. Blair.
Take that off! Take that off!
I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen.
I apologize for that fright.
Another slide, Mr. Blair, please.
What are you doing, Blair?
Mais qu'est-ce que vous faites ?
Vous voulez bousiller ma
pr?sentation, c'est ?a ?
I'm talking about the future of Canada!
Est-ce que vous comprenez ?
L'avenir du Canada !
Sir, is this a part of the presentation?
I really don't think so, George.
Can't you see this?
Someone is trying to
sabotage my grand expedition!
- Well, that may be so...
- They want my funding withdrawn,
my ship taken away!
To put an end to this! The
fate of Canada is at stake!
Mr. Bernier, you yourself admit
the man died in your charge...
Men die all the time on such expeditions!
Entire crews perish!
Do you know of Sir John Franklin's journey?
Of course. Yet in this case,
someone believes you
personally responsible.
Sottises !
Before I investigate the
sabotage of your presentation,
I must first determine the
validity of their claims.
Comment osez-vous insinuer
une chose pareille ?
Vous êtes idiot ou quoi ?
Le plus t?t vous coop?rez
avec cet idiot, Mr. Bernier,
le plus t?t vous serez
lav? de tout soup?on.
Well...
maybe you'd care to see the body?
- You have the body?
- Yeah. At the local funeral home.
I understand you are a member
of Captain Bernier's crew?
Yes, I am his photographer.
I also took some moving pictures
of this most recent expedition.
- The ones in the nickelodeon?
- Yes.
- I quite liked that.
- Thank you.
Did you take the
photograph of the dead man?
Shortly after the body was found.
And as projectionist of this slide show,
I'm assuming you arranged the photographs.
Yes, but I surely did not put in
the ones accusing
Captain Bernier of murder.
His name was Arthur Pimblett.
A dear friend who was at my
side in all my expeditions.
A man of science and nature,
he served as my navigator
or doctor. I will miss him.
- How did he die?
- Whenever the ship was stationary,
Arthur explored the surrounding areas.
He dreamed of discovering
new species of wildlife, you know?
But he never returned
from that fateful walk.
- He got lost.
- Yeah.
Maybe he suffered from snow
blindness, and froze to death.
- How long after his disappearance was he found?
- Four days.
The search cost me valuable time.
I had to turn back or risk
running out of provisions.
- I'm told you have the body.
- Yes, such as it is.
Decomposition must be quite
advanced at this point.
Arthur died three months ago.
I preserved him the
best I could using salt,
but I'm afraid he's not cutting
as fine a figure as he once did.
Well, I eagerly await his arrival
at the city morgue. Gentlemen.
Bye.
Well, I do hope
- she's a better coroner than she is a mother.
- I beg your pardon?
- She hardly knows how to hold a baby!
- Oh, well, I...
Not fit for motherhood anyway. Too skinny.
- Monsieur Bernier...
- My wife has meat on the bones.
I like to know she'll
survive an angry winter
while I'm away.
Monsieur Bernier, the coroner is my wife.
Oh. To each his own.
Who might wish to suggest
that Mr. Pimblett's death
- was your doing?
- Who else? The Swedes!
Bjorn Nordenskjold.
He wants nothing more than
to beat me to the North Pole.
That's why he's in Toronto.
I see your slide show did not go so well,
Mr. Bernier. I hope you
don't lose your ship!
What of sending your men
to the North Pole in a hydrogen balloon?
It was six years ago and still no return.
Can we assume that was a failure?!
Je suis le plus grand
explorateur au monde !
Vous aviez pas d'affaire ? vous
montrer la face dans ma pr?sentation !
Le p?le Nord appartient au Canada !
I see.
Decomposition was indeed advanced.
Coupled with the salt used to preserve it,
the body became dry and shriveled.
- Mummified, if you will.
- I see you've given him a bath.
I'm hoping this Sodium Hydroxide mixture
will re-hydrate the body
near to its original form.
- Very resourceful, Julia. Have you tried this before?
- No.
But if it works, I
should be able to provide
a more complete picture of the
circumstances he died under.
Well then, I shall await the
results of Mr. Pimblett's bath.
Or I could tell you the
cause of the death right now?
You can?
He may well have wandered off
the ship as Mr. Bernier claims,
but I don't believe hypothermia killed him.
He was throttled, William.
My preliminary examination
revealed fractures of the hyoid bone
- and surrounding cartilage.
- Strangled.
- By ligature or manually?
- I can't say.
There's too much discolouration of the skin
to discern bruising patterns.
Either way, this man's
death was no accident.
- I tried to keep him away.
- It's not your fault, Miss James.
The Detective and I were distracted.
If you don't mind my saying,
perhaps the Morgue isn't
the safest place for a baby.
You should take him for a
while, while I continue here.
Strangled?
Ce n'est pas possible. It's impossible.
Arthur Pimblett was
murdered, Captain Bernier.
- I'm afraid to say.
- You claim to have no knowledge of this?
I won't dignify such a question.
Why don't you elaborate
on the circumstances
surrounding his disappearance, Captain?
Like I mentioned,
Arthur went on a walk and never came back.
My crew fanned out looking for him, but
it was too late.
Who found him?
An Inuit crew member, Nuniq.
Carried him three miles back to the boat.
Would he have had any reason
to want Mr. Pimblett dead?
Oh! Heavens no!
Arthur was closer to Nuniq than any of us.
It was Arthur's idea to
assimilate an Inuit into our crew.
You're from Quebec, Captain.
What brings you to Toronto?
This is where Arthur was born
and deserved to be buried.
And I also hope to find
his replacement here.
All the while asking the public
- to fund your next expedition.
- Well, Captain. If we have any further questions...
Of course. Of course, Inspector.
Oh, um,
if I had any involvement
in Arthur's murder,
do you think I would have
volunteered his body to you?
Well, you did express a lack of confidence
in our coroner's abilities.
Well, thank you, Captain.
I'll show you out.
You seem to have a bee in
your bonnet about the Captain.
And you seem to quite like him, sir,
which I find surprising given
how you feel about Frenchmen.
Well, he's not a Frenchman
Frenchman. He's a Canadian Frenchman.
And if he claims the North Pole for Canada,
he's also claiming it for the British Empire.
- Right.
- Oh, bloody hell, Murdoch, give him here.
Come on, Roland, little fella. Whoa!
Have you not you heard of a nanny, Murdoch?
Get him on your knee and bounce him.
Boo-boo-boo-boo-boo!
- That's working, sir.
- Yes.
Right. I'll get Crabtree
to interview Bernier's crew,
see if they can corroborate his story.
I can't go anywhere, sir, or do anything.
Just this...
Welcome to fatherhood, Murdoch.
Strangled? Who would do such a thing?
That's exactly what we're
trying to ascertain, Mr. Philips.
What exactly was your duty on
Captain Bernier's expedition?
Third Officer, technically. Though
of course I'm much more than that.
- How so?
- Captain's prot?g?.
I'm being groomed as his successor.
In me, he sees the same qualities
that made him a captain
by the age of twenty.
- I'll have my own ship before long.
- Best of luck with that.
I certainly won't be under someone
else's command in my thirties.
No, heaven forbid.
Can you explain to me the circumstances
around Mr. Pimblett's death?
Derek Frewen, First
Officer of the CGS Arctic.
- What's going on here?
- Perhaps you could help.
He said Arthur was strangled to death.
That can't be. He froze to death.
Nuniq found his body four days
later and returned it to the ship.
Bernier yelled at him when he did.
Not sure for what, but it was damn funny.
Captain Bernier was very upset
over the death of his dear friend.
Thank you, gentlemen.
- Mr. Nuniq, may I have a word?
- Yes, I am Nuniq.
I understand that you
discovered Mr. Pimblett's body
- and brought it back to the ship.
- Yes. Sad day.
And that when you arrived back at the ship,
Captain Bernier yelled at
you. Can you tell me why?
I say Arthur not have gloves on,
but Arthur always wear gloves
when exploring off ship.
What exactly did he yell at you?
- He say not my concern.
- Right.
Well, thank you, Mr. Nuniq.
- Just Nuniq. No Mister.
- Nuniq.
- Are you enjoying Toronto, Nuniq?
- Yes,
- my people would not believe.
- Oh, I daresay!
It's a city of almost a
quarter of a million people.
I should show you around.
Vast improvement.
I wish Roland took to baths with such ease.
- He puts up a fuss?
- Always,
but then maybe I'm not doing it right?
I question how well suited I
am to the tasks of motherhood.
- Well, maybe...
- Miss James, come look at this.
Sir, the crew seemed genuinely surprised
to hear that he'd been strangled,
yet I still get the sense
they're hiding something.
Did you speak with the Inuit
fellow who found the body?
Yes sir, Nuniq. He mentioned that
when he happened upon the body,
Pimblett was without gloves,
which obviously was unusual
due to the cold weather.
As if he had been forced off
the ship against his will.
- Did Mr. Nuniq...
- Just Nuniq, sir. No Mister.
Did Nuniq report the
inconsistency to Captain Bernier?
He did, sir, and apparently Captain Bernier
tore a strip off him
for making mention of it.
- William! You'll not believe...
- Shh!
We're trying to get him to sleep, Julia.
- I'm sorry.
- It's alright, it's alright.
- When I took Mr. Pimblett out...
- Well, there's no point whispering now, Doctor.
Right.
You were saying, Julia?
The benefits of the bath
revealed Mr. Pimblett
had a shackle around his right ankle.
He was imprisoned before his death?
Only one person would have
authority to do such a thing:
Captain Bernier.
Mr. Pimblett had been shackled.
Our coroner found evidence of it.
Just what did he do to
warrant imprisonment?
Poor, poor Arthur had gone mad.
I was forced to confine
my best friend in his
room, for his own safety
and that of my crew. He was mad.
Well then, how is it he came to
be three miles away from your ship?
He escaped.
I shackled him to a pipe
but he broke it and ran off.
Lord knows what he was thinking.
What was he doing?
I mean, how did this
madness manifest itself?
He was delusional,
even thought we were in the Pacific Ocean.
Drawing maps and babbling on about
- Pacific salmon.
- Pacific...
- Pacific salmon?
- I'm telling you, he was deranged!
Obsessed by the fish!
Why did you keep this from us?
To preserve his name, sir.
I'm sorry not to tell you before.
Are you now prepared to
tell us who strangled him?
I don't know nothing about it.
I swear to you, Detective.
I can only imagine that in his
crazed state, he wandered
into a hostile Inuit community.
You're suggesting that Mr.
Pimblett was killed by Inuit?
Wouldn't be the first time, sir.
Sir, I'm to speak with Nuniq this evening.
I'll ask him the likelihood that
Pimblett was killed by Inuit.
Or Nuniq himself, George.
We're very lucky to get a
table at this restaurant.
It's very popular
and, as you can see, very expensive.
No, no, no.
- Very sorry, please excuse me.
- I am Nuniq.
No, Nuniq.
Please pardon my friend.
He's not accustomed
to our customs. Nuniq...
Thank you.
Sir.
In my culture, we share everything.
My food is yours.
Your food mine.
In the beginning it was not mine, or ours.
Today it is not.
I like the sound of that.
In some ways, that's more
civilized than our society.
Sometimes it feels like everybody's
crawling over one another
for a bigger piece of the pie.
Shameful, really.
We are happy people.
Speaking of which, Nuniq,
do you think it's possible
that Mr. Pimblett happened
upon an Inuit tribe and
for whatever reason
met his end that way?
No.
I suppose you have no such thing
as murder in your culture either?
No, we do. But
there are no Inuit communities
near where I find Arthur.
Impossible.
Either white man from ship kill him,
or Qalupalik.
Qalupalik?
Pardon us.
We were wondering what "Nuniq" means?
Close your eyes.
That's what Nuniq means.
Join us, why don't you.
Please, have a seat.
There you go. You as well, of course.
Waiter, we'll have another round!
Here we are.
I am Crabtree! I am Nuniq!
Nuniq, someone should make a
moving picture of your time here.
Like the Arctic nickelodeon, but here.
"Nuniq of Toronto."
- "Nuniq of Toronto."
- Oy, shut it!
Oh, quiet yourself.
Nuniq, I do have one serious question.
Did you kill Arthur Pimblett?
No, we were friends.
We talk about fish
he draw in journal. Salmon.
- He had a journal? Can I see it?
- No.
Journal go missing after he die.
Ugh!
Did you say salmon?
Oh, how lovely.
His brain came out quite neatly.
It'll make for a most
satisfying dissection.
Now,
the honour of cutting the first
slice is yours, Miss James.
- I don't think I can, Dr. Ogden.
- Why not?
I might become sick on the subject.
You'll get over it. Now
come get your hands dirty.
We need to determine whether a tumour
was the cause of Mr.
Pimblett's supposed insanity.
After you, Captain.
The Eskimo said that Mr. Pimblett's
journal disappeared after he died.
- Do you know where might we find it?
- Non.
But why would anyone want that?
We don't know, but the fact that it's
missing may have to do with his murder.
I doubt that.
It was just drawings of fish
and random dates that only he understood.
But mostly fish.
- I'm telling you he was totally insane...
- Yes, he was insane. But
we only have your word for that.
Unfortunately, our coroner
didn't find anything in his
brain to explain his insanity.
Ask my crew, they will tell you the same.
Our constable is doing that now,
but I suspect they'll only tell
us what you want them to tell us.
What does it matter anyway?
Now that my reputation is unfairly
tarnished with Arthur's blood,
I'll never raise enough
money to get to the Pole.
Nor will I find his replacement.
Arthur was truly one of a kind, you know.
Gentlemen.
Don't lose faith, Captain.
If the Swedes do take the Pole,
before you know it, they'll
be marching south wanting more.
I can't allow that.
That's why you need to
be forthright with us.
The sooner we get this settled,
the sooner you'll be back on the ship.
- You get my word, Inspector.
- Then I wish you good luck for your lecture.
Thank you.
Maybe you'd care to make
a contribution yourself?
- What do I get in return?
- How do you mean?
Well, I'd be more inclined to
donate if I got something for it.
Say, a jar of Arctic ice from the Pole.
I'd pay ten dollars for that.
The crew was reluctant, sir,
but they eventually conceded
that during the expedition
Pimblett went insane.
Anything else, George?
Well, sir, the photographer, Mr. Blair,
he claims that Pimblett was already insane,
- or eccentric at the very least.
- How so?
Well, he claims that just
prior to the last expedition,
Pimblett adopted a vegetarian diet
and tried to subsist the whole
time on canned vegetables.
Well, unwise perhaps, but
far from convincing me the man was insane.
Also, sir, the crew says that
he'd become obsessed with salmon,
even though he never ate it,
he was continually sketching salmon.
Yes, I've heard all about the salmon.
Well, if he did go a bit
doolally, it at least explains
him being miles away from
the ship with no gloves on.
Well, insane or otherwise, we still
don't know who strangled him, or why.
Especially if we take Nuniq's word
that there were no Inuit nearby.
Sirs,
there is another explanation.
Qalupalik.
Now, in Inuit lore...
Sir, in Inuit lore, Qalupalik
is a human-like creature
and he crawls out of the sea,
with long stringy hair, and sharp
fingernails and webbed hands,
and a greenish hue to his skin.
And he wears a pouch, sirs,
and he takes his victims
and he stuffs them in his
pouch and he carries them...
Oh, never mind.
Never mind what?
I just remembered we still have
Mr. Pimblett's body, as where
Qalupalik carries his victims
down beneath the ocean forever.
After the brain dissection failed
to reveal any abnormalities,
we conducted blood tests, which
showed high levels of lead.
Lead?
Further examination of the cadaver's tibia
revealed dense metaphyseal lines,
- a classic symptom of lead poisoning.
- I see.
Other symptoms include delirium,
cognitive deficits,
and even hallucinations.
Well, then I suppose Captain Bernier
was telling the truth after all.
Lead poisoning is often the result of
exposure to contaminated soil or water.
It seems unusual that he would
be the only crew member to suffer.
He had adopted a vegetarian diet,
brought all of his own canned food aboard.
Perhaps the tins were contaminated?
If he was the only one to eat
from them that would explain it.
Well, then.
Thank you, Miss James, Dr. Ogden.
Young Master Murdoch.
Baba.
I do think motherhood suits
you just fine, Dr. Ogden.
Did you hear that?
Our fearless Prime Minister
has already contributed two
hundred thousand dollars, but
it's not enough.
I ask that you
consider contributing to
that most daring effort!
But I am not looking for a handout,
my fellow Canadians.
In return for your contribution,
you will receive a priceless
token of appreciation.
For ten dollars,
I'll bring back a jar
of genuine Arctic water
direct from the Pole.
That was my idea.
- Very enterprising, sir.
- And for five hundred dollars,
you may become a member of
the crew of the CGS Arctic!
Safe return not guaranteed.
Five hundred...
Margaret may have that in her cookie jar.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.
The rest is yours.
Oh. Mr. Frewen, a word please.
I'm quite busy, Detective. The
Captain needs all hands on deck.
Just why did Captain Bernier
insist on confining Mr. Pimblett?
What threat did he pose exactly?
Well, I suppose Mr. Pimblett
had become capricious,
- aggressive even.
- Toward Captain Bernier?
Yes.
In fact, he was so rife with
madness he tried to start a mutiny.
A mutiny?
Why?
He became convinced that the
Captain was leading us to death.
Did this mutiny gain any support?
With some of the more
impressionable crew, yes.
But thankfully the
Captain quashed the mutiny
after Mr. Pimblett's death and
fired those that betrayed him.
- Serves them right.
- Mr. Frewen!
Come and help!
Excuse me, gentlemen.
Don't speak to your superiors
like that, Mr. Philips.
I am First Officer. You're
merely Third Officer.
Oh, shut up and help me, you fool!
A mutiny, sir.
It gives Captain Bernier motive.
Mr. Pimblett must have discovered
something that threatened
Captain Bernier's future expeditions.
Including his attempt at the North Pole.
Arthur Pimblett started a mutiny.
That's why you shackled him, isn't it?
I shackled him because he was mad.
But he also started a mutiny.
Yes,
obviously out of madness.
But he was gaining support
with some of the crew members.
Perhaps that's why his
journal went missing.
It had details of the mutiny
which you wanted to keep a secret.
What are you suggesting?
That your friend had become
a threat to the expedition,
and to future ones.
That he believed that you were
leading your men to their death.
That if word of that got out,
the Canadian government may
reconsider giving you a ship.
So you think I killed my best friend?
It would have been easy
for you to strangle him
while he was shackled, and
make it appear as though
he wandered off to freeze to death.
That's quite an accusation, Detective.
It would also explain why Mr.
Pimblett was found without gloves on,
and why you yelled at
Nuniq for mentioning it.
I'm very hurt.
All I wanted was to keep
Arthur's madness a secret,
and now I'm being accused of his murder.
Captain Bernier,
did you murder Arthur Pimblett?
I will say no more.
Well, if there is evidence,
I will find it.
In the meantime, I'll be
holding you in our cells.
If he did it,
why would he bring the body all
the way back and hand it to us?
A guilty conscience, perhaps?
What we do know
of Bernier is that he ruled
his ship unconditionally
and was one of few who had access.
Pimblett had lead
poisoning. He was a crackpot.
How much of a threat could he have been?
Sir, any threat at all
gives the Captain motive.
Until he starts telling the
truth, I recommend we hold him.
Even if it means Canada won't
be the first to the North Pole?
Sirs, Canada may yet still be the first.
I've just been at the exhibition.
Mr. Philips has been named
Captain in Bernier's absence.
The Third Officer? That was bloody quick.
He's very young, sir,
but he's very ambitious
and is said to be very
talented. Something of a prodigy.
On whose authority?
The Government of Canada, sir.
It is their ship after all.
He convinced them he was up to the task.
I'm surprised the expedition
wasn't scrapped altogether.
Bernier's the world
authority on the Arctic.
Without him, it's doomed.
Maybe so,
but this promotion
gives Mr. Philips motive.
Sir.
Mr. Blair,
we're looking for Mr. Philips.
You won't find him here.
He's out celebrating his promotion.
Are you planning on leaving Toronto?
No, I live here.
But I am leaving the
employ of the CGS Arctic
now that Philips is Captain.
Why?
For all his talent, he's
inexperienced and far too ambitious.
He may get them to the Pole,
but I doubt if they make it back.
Why do you say that?
When Captain Bernier cut
the last expedition short
after Pimblett's death,
Philips nearly convinced him to press on.
I'm not about to risk my life
for the glory of someone who has little
or no regard for their crew's safety.
Thank you, Mr. Blair.
Uh, Mr. Blair,
is that the moving picture camera
you used to make the nickelodeons?
Yes,
why do you ask?
This will be an excellent nickelodeon.
"Nuniq of the North Visits Toronto."
Oh!
Not bad, eh? Not bad, eh? The kick.
Nuniq?
Oy.
Have you two retired?
What's this?
This eventually will
be my nickelodeon, sir.
Although I have lost my subject.
Have you not got work to do?
George insists that this is work.
Coming up here, sirs.
Right there.
Isn't that Mr. Nordenskjold
dining with Mr. Philips?
Just last night, sir.
Canada's new Captain
dining with our chief rival.
Bloody Swedes.
Good work, George.
Congratulations on your
promotion, Captain Philips.
Thank you.
How did you celebrate?
I enjoyed dinner with friends.
These friends?
Just what were you doing having dinner with
high-ranking Swedes when you're to
be Captain of a government-sanctioned
Canadian expedition?
They wanted to speak with me.
What about?
To see whether I might captain
their ship to the North Pole.
- Don't they have captains of their own?
- Yes,
but Captain Bernier is
the best in the world,
and as his prot?g?,
I am the next best thing.
- And what did you say?
- That I would consider it.
Though I doubt they could
outfit a finer vessel
than the CGS Arctic anyway.
You would betray your country?
I only care about being the
first man to the North Pole,
whether it's under the
flag of Canada or Sweden.
I see them only as sponsors.
That traitor should bloody hang.
Maybe so. Yet no law has been broken.
We'll see about that.
I sent Crabtree to search his room
while you were interviewing him.
And it's true that he's one of the few
who could have stolen the
negatives leading up to the show.
And now he's leveraging
his newfound position
to solicit offers from the Swedes.
Unless, sir, he's been working
with the Swedes the entire time.
Mr. Pimblett caught on to him and
that's why he was killed?
Philips then tries to pin it on
the Captain and take his ship.
Sirs,
I found Pimblett's missing journal
in Mr. Philips' room.
Arrest him, George.
Sir.
Mais en tout cas,
- c'est certainement possible...
- What's going on?
Sir, Mr. Pimblett wasn't insane.
Well, he was insane,
but he made a brilliant discovery.
A discovery that I dismissed.
Well, what is it?
A yet-to-be-attempted
route to the North Pole.
Daring in scope,
but brilliant in its simplicity.
Every explorer has attempted to
reach the North Pole from the east.
But, by studying carefully the
weather patterns and natural currents,
Mr. Pimblett suggested that
one could reach the North Pole
from the west, through the Bering Strait.
Well, what's so brilliant about that?
This was long thought to be impossible.
The distance from the nearest
point of land is much further.
He Theorized that if you left at
the exact right time from the west
and allowed the ship
to become locked in ice,
the weather patterns and
ocean currents would carry you
right to the North Pole.
- That sounds crackers.
- Exactly.
But it's brilliant.
His theory was validated
when he discovered salmon,
pacific salmon locked in
ice in the east Arctic.
Just as a ship would be,
were it to be locked in ice,
having left from the west.
But the final map detailing how
to accomplish this is missing.
It's been torn out of the journal.
That bloody weasel Philips must have it.
I didn't steal the journal, I...
- I don't know how it wound up in my room.
- Where's the map?
What map?
- The map detailing how to get to the North Pole from the west.
- The west?
I don't have such a map.
Although the Swedes did mention
something about a new route.
- What did they say?
- They were vague,
but they mentioned something about a
new route to the Pole from the west.
I thought they were as insane as Pimblett.
My prot?g?.
Shame on you for talking to the Swedes.
So the Swedes approached you with this
information, not the other way around.
Then the Swedes must have the map.
But how did they get it?
Someone from your crew came
across Mr. Pimblett's diary,
murdered him for it and
sold the map to the Swedes.
I'm afraid one of your
men is working for them.
A traitor? In my midst?
But why would the Swedes turn around and
approach Philips to be their Captain?
In addition to gaining a captain,
they would be leaving Canada without one.
Then the traitor must be a crew member here
in Toronto, to have sabotaged
my slide show as well.
What's that, Crabtree?
Oh, sorry, sir, it's my nickelodeon.
I'm just finishing it up.
Even though Nuniq abandoned you?
I wouldn't say he
abandoned me, sir. We just
haven't been spending as
much time together lately.
I hear he's quite the man about town.
It's true, sir.
I'm glad. I'm glad he's
meeting new people in Toronto.
Heaven knows where he's been sleeping.
Nuniq! There you are!
I've been worried about you.
Can I come back to your home to stay?
- Yes, of course.
- I miss home.
I want to go back,
but I don't trust the new
Captain can make safe journey.
The new captain, Mr. Philips,
he's in our jail cells.
No,
Derek Frewen is the new Captain now.
The First Officer?
Frewen has been made the new
Captain of the CGS Arctic.
Pff! Ridiculous!
Frewen is a reliable First
Mate, but a hopeless leader!
Doesn't mean he doesn't
have ambitions for more.
Frewen is the traitor.
Betrayed by my own First Mate.
Let's say he came across
Mr. Pimblett's journal,
he recognized its value,
and murdered him for it.
By pinning the murder on
you, he would be eliminating
all of Sweden's competition.
Then he shares Pimblett's
western route with the Swedes.
But when Mr. Philips became Captain,
Mr. Frewen felt passed over,
so he attempted to frame him by
placing the journal in his room.
And according to Nuniq,
Frewen has himself a
train ticket to Vancouver.
Where he'll assemble his own
crew and head for the North Pole.
To claim it for bloody Sweden.
He's been the traitor all along.
George.
Sir,
there's Mr. Frewen now.
Oh, Mr. Frewen!
Stop!
Drive!
- Drive! Go!
- Stop!
- Hey!
- Out of the way!
Hurry, Frewen!
I'm free!
And I'm going to take
the North Pole for Sweden!
- I'm gonna leave...
- Get in, you fool!
Long live Sweden!
Sir, should we give chase?
I don't think so, George.
We have the man we want.
They're not going to be getting anywhere
near the North Pole without this.
Long live Sweden.
Mr. Frewen, you are under arrest
for the murder of Arthur Pimblett,
and for treason.
Long live Canada.
I suppose you'll be heading back home now
that Captain Bernier's been reinstated.
Yes. I miss family.
Thank you for Toronto, Crabtree.
You certainly made the most of it.
I have something for you.
"Nuniq of the North in Toronto."
This way, your family can
share in the experience.
Mr. Blair said he'd project it for you.
Thank you, Crabtree.
Nuniq means kiss.
No, I just say that.
"Kunik" means kiss.
So what does Nuniq mean?
Another time.
Merci. Thank you all for
your generous support.
Captain.
I see the fundraising
campaign is a success.
Would you like to join my expedition?
- Well, I'm flattered...
- Not you, Inspector.
You, Detective.
- Me?
- Yeah.
You're a man of science,
and by translating Arthur's journal,
you proved yourself a worthy replacement.
If you need a real seaman,
you take me, not Murdoch.
That may be, Inspector.
But there can be only one Captain,
and you, my friend,
you're a Captain as well.
Ahh. Captain of Station House Number Four.
Well.
Captain.
You know,
Captain Bernier asked me to
join him on his expedition.
- Did he now?
- Hmm.
But I told him I could not accept
on account of being a father.
And how long would the expedition take?
Four years.
Give or take a year.
But if not for being
a father, you would go?
Leaving me here for four years?
You would wait for me, Julia.
Oh...
Don't be so sure.
Speaking of being a
father, where is our child?
Right this way.
It replicates the motion of
bouncing him on one's knee.
- Look how happy he is.
- Yes, he's our gleeful bouncer.
I could use one of those at the morgue.
That's why I've made three:
one for the morgue, one for
here and one for my office.
That way, Roland can remain occupied
while we go about our work.
- We'll never miss a moment.
- No.
No.
On an all-new Murdoch...
"Clubbed" to death.
Do you recognize this putter?
Golf is a curse, Murdoch,
don't you forget it.
Cracking the case...
Quite pleasurable.
New information has come to light.
... will take a stroke of genius.
I've had an idea.
Murdoch Mysteries,
next Monday at 8:00 on CBC.