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Toronto is one of the safest cities in North America.
Let us hope so, Inspector.
After all, we are talking about
His Royal Highness Prince Alfred.
Queen Victoria is very, very protective over her grandson.
I've assigned two very experienced officers
to make sure that the prince's visit goes as planned.
There are some lingering concerns.
Lingering concerns?
The War Office has received information
that the Irish may be plotting something
against a member of the royal family.
This is Canada, sir.
There's no need to worry about such things.
Still, there have been Irish aggressions
in Canada before, sir.
The Fenian raids were 30 years ago.
If there was any activity in Toronto,
I would definitely be aware of it.
Well, let us hope so, Inspector.
The last thing we need is an incident.
David Jennings. Aide to His Royal Highness.
Oh, gosh. It's a pleasure, sir.
Detective William Murdoch,
and this is Constable George Crabtree.
At your service.
They will be keeping a keen eye on the prince.
Excellent.
The prince can be something of a...
Pleasure-seeker.
Yes. One way of putting it.
His reputation precedes him, sir.
But no need to worry. He'll be in good hands.
Quite right.
Detective Murdoch goes out of his way to avoid pleasure.
Ah, excellent.
Then we look forward to enjoying
your, as they say, Toronto the Good.
How could you do this to me?
Ah, good evening, gentlemen.
Please come. Come.
Detective Murdoch, Constable Crabtree,
may I present His Royal Highness Prince Alfred
of Edinburgh, Saxe-Coburg and Gotha.
Gosh, it's just a pleasure, sir.
It's a pleasure to be at your service, Your Highness.
Tomorrow, gentlemen,
his Highness has a breakfast with the mayor,
a primary-school choir presentation,
and then an evening performance at Massey Hall.
Sir?
Would Your Highness care to continue this at a later stage?
Pardon my rudeness,
but important matters demand my attention.
Perhaps we can finish this later, gentlemen.
Yes, perhaps.
Of course, of course,
we'll assume our posts in the corridor.
Well, I must say the prince made a much better first impression
than I assumed he would.
Go on, George. Read it.
"There was a prince who liked to succumb,
to vulgar young girls with big bums.
But he knew he was trapped and would have to adapt,
so he begs you instead for some rum. "
A poet. Excellent.
Sir.
A body's been found.
I'm right behind you. George, guard the prince.
Sir.
Did you like my poem?
Oh, yes, Your Majesty. It was very creative.
Jennings, that old cat, has gone to bed,
and now the mice can play.
Would you acquire something for me?
Absolutely. What can I get you?
Girls.
This is how she was found?
It's eerie, sir.
She looks as though she's sleeping.
- What's that, sir? - A Claddagh ring.
The hands symbolize friendship, the heart is love,
and the crown is loyalty.
I don't see a crown, sir.
It's sometimes removed as a symbolic gesture,
a sign of defiance toward the British.
By who?
The Irish Republican Brotherhood.
The Brotherhood.
Sir, the prince.
Yes.
The prince may indeed be in grave danger.
Sir!
Sir.
I found this in the bushes about 50 yards that way.
It's most likely the victim's.
Excellent, but you shouldn't be touching it.
How else would I pick it up?
Constable, evidence should not be touched
until fingermarks have been raised.
Oh, well, I'm not really up on those, sir.
Later I'll show you how it's done.
I don't think I have the mind for it, sir.
Nonsense. Anyone can learn.
Thank you, sir.
Miss Margaret Gilpatrick. A fine Irish name.
Let's find her next of kin, Constable.
Um, sir, I've certainly done my share
of filling the cells with drunkards and pickpockets,
but I've never assisted a detective before.
And?
How would one go about locating a victim's family?
You'll want to search the public records
and find her next of kin.
Then bring them to me.
Public records. Brilliant, sir.
Thank you.
Higgins, keep an eye on the gentlemen of the press.
- And not a word. - Sir.
Right, then, what about this ring?
Well, sir, a dead Irish girl wearing a Brotherhood ring
on the very night
that Mr. Jennings warned about a possible Irish threat.
Hardly a coincidence, I should think.
Let's not sound the alarms yet, Murdoch.
I simply think that it...
We don't want the prince to think
that Toronto's not a safe place.
Let's keep our eyes open and close this case quickly.
It would be a tremendous help
if I could have Constable Crabtree's assistance.
For some reason, the prince has took a shine to Crabtree,
so you'll have to make do with Higg... Bollocks!
Higgins, you daft bastard! I said, "Don't say a word!"
Excuse my language, Doctor.
Oi! You lot, away!
Dr. Ogden, have you found anything?
This scratch on her neck.
It's as if something was torn from her.
- A necklace, perhaps? - But why?
The murderer didn't take her ring,
which seems to rule out robbery.
Perhaps the necklace held a special significance.
There's blood and skin under the fingernails of her right hand.
- She fought her attacker. - Yes.
Good girl.
Your Highness, please!
Shh!
You'll wake Jennings with all that pounding.
Your Highness, I'm sorry I have to be so strict,
but we have had several complaints
about the noise and the thumping.
And while I'm sure no one will ask you to leave,
there is a possibility
I'll catch some of the trouble for this.
Oh, I will make this up to you. I promise.
Thank you. If you could just...
Girls! Over here.
Oh, Your Highness, please. No more girls.
Not for me. For you.
A token of my royal appreciation.
Make nice.
Sir, so we'll agree to...
Hello.
- Hello, there. - Hi.
I can understand the confusion.
It looks just like her.
Is this not your daughter, Mr. Gilpatrick?
My Maggie May was a lovely girl.
She'll be back.
We found a handbag near the scene of the crime.
In it was a number of calling cards.
Your daughter's name was on them.
Was it, now?
But we found this on her shoulder.
Do you recognize it?
That's not the tattoo she had.
Your daughter had a different tattoo?
She marked her skin.
That's how I know she was not herself.
How do you mean?
Maggie turned wild.
On account of living with that Ann girl.
She's a bad seed, that one.
He's a crazy old coot, her father.
Came over here one night yelling
that she wasn't his daughter anymore.
Do you think he could have hurt her?
I suppose anything is possible,
but, deep down, I think he loved her something fierce.
He said something about Maggie was different.
Why would he say that?
Maggie used to be quite merry, but lately she'd grown sullen.
I thought she might be in trouble.
Constable, could you please pass me that photograph?
This cross on Maggie's necklace, what can you tell me about it?
A gift from her mother.
She's dead now.
Mags never took it off.
You said you thought she might be in trouble.
What did you mean?
Perhaps in the family way?
No.
Mags had a sweetheart.
John Tucker.
But they'd been fighting lately.
A lot.
And where might we be able to find him?
They used to go to Bible study together.
At least, that's what she told her father.
And what church was that held at?
Church? Ha.
Yes, well, I suppose to some it is.
Excuse me, sir. I'd like a word, please.
Bartender, Toronto police.
I'd like to speak with you, please.
Sir.
You can answer in here, or you can answer outside!
It's your choice.
- Something to say? - Be still!
Not in my bar.
Will.
Eddie?
Why would you expect them to talk?
We're just doing our jobs.
Last time the coppers came by for a chat,
Paddy O'Neil got a gash in the back of the head
that put him out for a week.
Well, if that happens again, you tell me. I'll make it right.
Yeah.
It's been a long time, Will.
It sure has.
What? They make you a detective now, is that right?
Yeah. Beats logging.
I tried to write you at the seminary after Jesuit school.
Well, the priesthood didn't work out.
I met a girl.
Oh, you're married. Congratulations.
Well, that didn't really work out, either.
But the bar seems to keep me going.
You still doing a bit of boxing?
No. I see enough of that in the streets.
Yeah, either that or Father O'Brien beat it out of you.
Did a week ever go by
we didn't see the inside of his office?
No.
Eddie, I'm investigating a murder.
A young woman named Maggie Gilpatrick was found dead.
I'm looking for a gentleman friend of hers, a John Tucker.
Yeah.
I knew Maggie. A shame about that.
John Tucker?
No, name doesn't ring a bell.
What, did he have something to do with the death?
I just want to talk to him.
If I hear anything, I'll let you know.
Would you, uh, fancy a pint?
No, I'm still on duty. Perhaps another time.
Oh, yeah.
The body's still the Lord's temple, eh, Will?
See ya.
I have a good mind to report this to your inspector
and have you removed from this position.
Mr. Jennings, with all due respect,
I did manage to eventually end the party.
After His Royal Highness's undergarments ended up
in a tree on King Street.
Oh, I meant to get those.
I will remind you, Constable, your duty here
also includes keeping the prince from doing harm.
To himself and, more importantly,
to the reputation of the Crown.
Do not let it happen again.
Yes, sir.
We're getting out. Let's go.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
- The schedule says... - We've a spot of time.
Now, come on. Let's have some fun.
Your Highness, please come back now!
You're with me, or you're not.
Either way, I'm leaving this hotel.
Your Highness.
I forbid it!
Oh, you do, do you?
Well, suit yourself, Constable.
You know I could have you beheaded for this.
Right now, that would only be too merciful, sir.
Lunch has been scheduled at the harbor, sir.
Does this suit Your Highness?
That'll be fine.
What?
You couldn't get a word out of anybody?
No, sir.
You know the choffing bartender, for God's sake.
But I haven't spoken to him in over 20 years.
I can't just walk in and demand information.
Yeah, not with him being a mick.
The Irish have always been stroppy.
You can hardly blame them.
Oh, my God.
What's that I can hear? Violins?
We're not in Ireland, Murdoch.
Look outside. Smell the maple leaves.
This is Canada.
Yes, well, at any rate,
the "micks" aren't going to talk to us now, so...
Then find some other way to get to the bottom of things.
Higgins, were you able to raise any fingermarks
off of the handbag?
Uh, loads of them, sir.
Just, all mine.
Right.
I have another job for you.
I need you to help me find someone.
Detective Murdoch, I understand you've been looking for me.
I'm John Tucker.
Never mind. I found him.
Mr. Tucker, when did you last see Maggie?
A couple of days ago.
I loved her more than anything.
Yet you fought with her.
Who told you that? Ann?
We fought because she was stubborn and opinionated.
And she wouldn't listen to me.
And just how heated did these arguments get?
You think I had something to do with Maggie's death.
Well, I didn't.
The fights, what were they about?
- Her father. - What about him?
His mind. He's gone a bit loony, sir.
How so?
He's got it into his head that Maggie was a changeling.
So, if you're looking for a killer, sir, I'd start with him.
The fairies.
They stole my girl, and in her place they left it.
A changeling.
Yes.
I asked it, "Be you a changeling? "
"No, no," it cried.
But I knew.
How did you know?
It had to say what it was.
It had to say it was a changeling, but it wouldn't.
- So you had to kill it? - No.
I had to be sly to match its wits.
An elixir of herbs and milk
should make it say it was a changeling.
It drank it, ran hell-bound,
and then I sees it on your table.
If the changeling is dead, Mr. Gilpatrick, where is Maggie?
She'll soon be released.
- Released from... - From the fairies.
They'll be bringing her home soon.
I must go and meet her.
Mr. Gilpatrick.
I think you'll need to stay with us a little while longer.
If Mr. Gilpatrick was telling the truth,
we should find traces of milk and herbs in her stomach.
And there it is.
Basil, I'd say by the odor.
So, Mr. Gilpatrick did give her the herbs.
But if he wanted his daughter back,
he needed the changeling alive.
Killing her makes no sense.
That's not the only odd thing, William.
What role did a piece of paper play
in the exorcising of a changeling?
More to the point, what role did it play in her murder?
So, Maggie Gilpatrick is in the park.
Someone is stalking her.
They catch her and force the piece of paper down her throat.
Perhaps as a punishment of some sort?
Or she ate it to keep anyone else from having it.
It's blank.
Except for these small holes.
Yes, they're not punctures or tears.
They've been carefully cut out.
For what purpose?
A very practical and surreptitious one.
The key to a code?
Not a code, sir. A cipher.
- The difference is... - Don't start splitting hairs.
Have you not heard of the ciphers
of Verne's Count Mathias Sandorf?
Murdoch, just explain it to me.
When a cipher's key is laid
over a specific page of text from a book,
letters are isolated.
Those letters form words, revealing a message.
- Which book? - That's the question.
Lot of good that does us, then.
Why was the paper in the girl's stomach?
To keep it from falling into the wrong hands?
Brave girl.
Sir?
Dr. Ogden wants you back.
When Mr. Gilpatrick said Maggie had another marking on her arm,
I began to wonder whether the sun tattoo
was actually hiding another tattoo.
You've found a way to remove the sun.
Yes, I believe I have.
- You're going to burn it off. - Precisely.
Cover your mouth. Try not to inhale the fumes.
Let's see whether this has worked.
Amazing.
There is another tattoo. Can you uncover it any further?
It's a phoenix rising.
William, you realize what this means?
All too well.
Symbol of the Brotherhood.
And this was found on the dead girl, yes?
Yes. Between this and the ring,
it strongly suggests that something is afoot.
What that might be is not known.
We've talked with our informers, and we've come up with nothing.
In fact, we can't even be certain
that the Brotherhood is active in Toronto at the moment.
Gentlemen, I suggest we increase security on His Highness.
We won't stray from his schedule,
but we will certainly shorten his public appearances.
Perhaps this matter would be best discussed
with His Royal Highness.
Oh, no need, Inspector.
The British have never, nor will they ever,
run in the face of Irish hooliganism.
I trust you will get to the bottom of matters eventually.
Good day.
Arrogant little prick.
No wonder half the world hates the bloody monarchy.
What? Well, they do.
Uh, no, I was just wondering
why Maggie Gilpatrick would cover her tattoo.
To keep that crazy father of hers
from beating the bejesus out of her.
Very good, sir.
Clearly, the tattoo proves that she was part of the Brotherhood.
Yet she covered it up. Had she left the group?
Well, if she had, they wouldn't take it lightly.
Apparently, Maggie had been attending Bible study
with John Tucker.
I wonder if these were, in fact, Brotherhood gatherings.
And this John Tucker.
He just walks right in and volunteers information.
Now, why would he do that?
Yes. Why, indeed?
Very nice. Try it on.
No.
Why not?
No, no, no, no, no.
It's not really me, sir.
I insist.
All right.
Very good.
The boys would have a good laugh to see me in such finery.
Nonsense. They would respect you.
That coat is an emblem of power, and people respect power.
There you go.
That looks much better.
So, you go through this every day, Your Highness?
The primping has merely just begun.
Eddie, after we spoke, John Tucker somehow found me.
That's a stroke of luck, then, isn't it?
I think it was specifically
to blame Maggie's death on her father
and to throw me off the trail.
And what trail might that be, Will?
I think John Tucker and Maggie
were involved with the Brotherhood.
The Brotherhood.
Ghosts long dead, Will.
- She had the tattoo. - And why not?
We all have relatives over there.
People who spilled blood, fought starvation,
died for their religion.
Eddie, are the Brotherhood meeting?
I wouldn't know, Will.
If they are, I can't say I could blame them.
Why do you say that?
Do you remember I told you I met a girl?
You told me it didn't work out.
Her name was Abigail.
She was a beautiful girl.
She came over from Ireland to make a new start with her aunt.
We had a child, little Katie.
Abby wanted her family to see her, back home.
So it took me a good part of a year to save enough money
to send them back home to Ireland.
- Are they there now? - Yeah.
Buried at Coolcross Hill.
They were in church when it happened.
Brigade stormed in, set fire to the whole building.
Burnt them to a crisp.
They said that the priest was sheltering the Brotherhood.
I'm sorry. I had no idea.
So, how would you know? You're not a mind reader.
You're a copper.
Sworn to uphold Her Majesty's rules.
I uphold the law, Eddie.
Ah, well, there's a fine line
between upholding the law and being a lackey, Will.
Sir?
If I see this John Tucker fellow,
I'll let him know that you're looking for him.
Have you found Tucker?
Uh, not exactly, sir.
He was in here, going through my things.
And you're sure it was John Tucker?
I saw a dark figure and cried out.
Mrs. Meyboom from downstairs heard and called up.
He went straight into the hall,
and I saw his face clear as day.
But you're all right, miss?
But for a bump on my knee.
Well, you should sit, miss. Please.
Miss Ryan, do you have any idea
what he might have been looking for?
No.
No idea at all.
When a cipher's key is laid
over a specific page of text from a book,
letters are isolated.
Which book?
Could it have been a book, by chance?
I would never have thought of it.
It's sacrilegious, I said.
She told me it was tainted
and wanted to burn it when the weather turned.
But maybe she was hiding it.
It opens to the same place, sir.
Yes. The spine's broken.
Well, that's interesting.
Something's been written here and erased.
Yet the indentation of the pencil remains.
"Sic Semper Tyrannus. "
"Thus Always to Tyrants. "
Those were the words shouted out by John Wilkes Booth
right after he assassinated President Lincoln.
This could mean that the Irish
are planning to assassinate the prince.
Maybe.
At any rate, I believe this is the page
that holds the key to their plans,
if I can only decode it in time.
Though we believe we've matched the key
to the correct Bible page,
we've yet to decipher the message.
And you think these letters spell out a plan of some sort?
Most likely.
From the Latin phrase,
you can see why we believe the prince's life
to be in grave danger.
And you've identified a potential culprit?
Yes, a man named John Tucker. Recently arrived from Ireland.
However, no one knows anything about him.
And where is he now?
We are uncertain.
Uncertain.
Mr. Jennings, there's a train leaving for Montreal
tomorrow afternoon.
From there, you can take a steamship bound for England.
These are very serious developments.
I'll take your advice and present it to His Highness.
Good.
We've already sent a constable to fetch him.
- Under whose authority? - Mine.
I believe it to be in his best interest.
And in the meantime completely ignoring proper protocol.
I'll be reporting this to your superior, Inspector.
Yes, sir. Understood.
Eddie, where is John Tucker?
Surely, you know something.
Talk to me while I can still help you.
They're planning an assassination.
Did you know that?
I want to believe that you're not party to this,
but you're making it very difficult.
Because we are talking about murder.
# Attend you gallant Irishmen #
# And listen for a while #
# I'll sing to you the praises of the sons of Erin's Isle #
Cold-blooded murder.
# It's of those gallant heroes who voluntarily ran #
# To release two Irish Fenians from an English prison van #
Put him in a cell.
Yes, sir.
# William Deasy was a man of good and noted fame #
# Likewise, Michael Larkin, we'll never forget his name #
D, U, R, H, A, B, T.
Oh, this makes no sense at all. Bloody Irishmen.
Irish.
- Ogam. - What?
Ogam. The ancient Irish alphabet.
Oh, of course.
Ancient Irish. How bloody obvious.
No, no, no.
Words were written in groups of five letters
above and below a line.
So let's divide them into groups of five.
Durham.
Mary.
Bellevue.
Trinity.
As in the Holy Trinity?
No.
Locations.
Durham Road. Mary Street.
- Bellevue Park. - Trinity College.
What do you think they are? Traps or ambushes?
Maybe they're stops along the prince's itinerary.
I'll check his schedule.
Send men to each of these locations.
We'd better hurry.
The only thing this doesn't say is when.
Gentlemen.
I'd like to introduce my senior security officer.
Mr. George Crabtree.
What sort of pathetic lot is this that stands before me?
Crabtree, what the bloody hell are you wearing,
and what kind of bollock-brain idea is this?
Excuse my language, Your Highness.
It's a brilliant one, sir.
He looks like some poncy schoolboy.
Yes, I know.
But it's the perfect undercover security disguise.
Constable Crabtree's plan from the beginning, eh?
- Really? - Uh, yes, definitely.
Then you can remain in disguise for the rest of this assignment.
Right, Constable?
Actually, sir, there's a lot of pinning involved.
Don't push it, Crabtree.
Sir, if we could have your attendance
in the inspector's office, please.
Certainly.
This way, Your Highness.
- No. - Your Highness.
We don't have all the details, but if you were to stay,
you could be endangering your life.
If I might advise, sir,
I suggest we call off the visit at once.
And still my answer is no.
My grandmother,
who I'll remind you has been Queen of England
for nearly 60 years,
has had at least five attempts on her life.
Which is exactly why, sir...
Which is exactly why I intend to represent her faithfully
and fulfill all my duties here in Toronto.
Prince Alfred, sir...
Now I believe there's a library to be dedicated.
Of course, sir.
We've checked all of the locations,
and the constables report nothing out of the ordinary.
And there's nothing in the prince's schedule
that puts him at any of these locations.
What if we're wrong?
We're not wrong.
We're just missing something.
Sir?
I found Tucker works in a livery.
Get every available man and check it out.
Sir, I've already done that. He's not there.
Well, what good is that, then?
Because the livery he worked at
rented the carriages for the royal visit.
Constable, you may make detective yet.
Thank you, sir.
So, the carriage may be involved.
But now "Where? " is the question.
Here.
That's where the prince is dedicating the library.
Your Highness, something's wrong.
Come with me to the carriage!
- Everybody out! - Excuse us! Excuse us!
Move! Move!
- George? - Sir!
Ah, Your Highness. Thank goodness you're all right.
Just thank God no one was injured.
With one fortunate exception.
Detective, take a look at this.
Looks like a necklace fused into the victim's skin by the blast.
Can you remove it?
That's exactly like Maggie Gilpatrick's missing necklace.
Suggesting a personal relationship between them.
Her gentleman friend, Mr. Tucker.
Most likely.
The bomb must have detonated when he was planting it.
- So, it's over, then? - I hope so.
But we must remain realistic.
There could still be members of the Brotherhood.
It's best to be cautious.
We've devised a plan for tomorrow's parade.
We'll brief you on it in the morning.
Excellent work, gentlemen.
I can finally sleep more easily.
Good night, sir. Sleep well.
John Tucker is dead.
Well, congratulations, Detective.
You got your man.
Did you know about the bomb?
What bomb?
That's the way it's going to be, then, is it?
- I'm just a frog in your eyes. - Yeah.
And I'm just a lowly mick in yours.
That's not the case, at least not on my end.
Am I free to go?
Yes.
All the best, Will.
So, once again, the plan is for the prince,
accompanied by Constable Crabtree and the Inspector,
to take the royal carriage to Queen's Park
via the parade route.
Crabtree, is His Highness ready?
Indeed he is, sir.
- That's not bad at all. - No.
- Hardly as handsome, though. - No.
Of course, sir.
Sir, do you think I could wave?
Out the carriage window, I mean.
There's a regal twist of the wrist you'll need to know,
but, yes.
Try not to show your face.
Of course, sir.
Once inside the Queen's Park legislative building,
you will wait for us.
And Mr. Jennings, Prince Alfred, and myself
will take the circuitous route
and arrive at the rear of Queen's Park.
Right, then.
Let's get on with it.
Your Highness,
the plan is to meet the carriage at the back of the hotel.
Small change of plan.
They must have delivered their ransom demands by now.
So, why haven't they killed us?
We'll get you out of this, Your Highness.
It's you that I'm concerned about, Detective.
Jennings, why are you doing this?
What do you want?
It's simple, Your Highness.
I want my country back.
Hello, Will.
Bloody hell! What do you mean it was abandoned, eh?
We found their carriage at Summerhill Ravine, sir.
And the hotel suite? Any clues there?
Nothing to indicate anything was amiss.
Inspector, is Detective Murdoch here?
- I'm afraid not. - Then I'll speak with you.
This is not a very good time, Doctor.
I think you'll want to hear this.
I found this in John Tucker's body.
- He was shot? - In the chest.
He would have died almost instantly.
So, someone killed him and made it appear
that he died planting the bomb.
They probably thought the fire would destroy his body.
But why kill Tucker?
To make us think we'd foiled the plot already.
So you'd drop your guard.
And apparently it worked. Thank you, Doctor.
Inspector, Detective Murdoch.
He's in danger, is he?
Yes, he is.
But you won't be seeing him on your slab anytime soon.
I promise you.
This friend of Murdoch's. What's his name?
Eddie Cullen, sir.
Find out everything you can about him.
I want to know who he is, where he lives,
and what he had for breakfast, understood?
- Sir. - Sir.
You're only making things worse for yourself.
By now, the police will know what's happened.
Doesn't matter.
This plan's been months in the making.
If that's the case,
it couldn't possibly have included Detective Murdoch.
Let him go, Jennings.
You're in no position to be making demands.
Your Highness.
Mr. Jennings.
This is insanity.
You'll never get away with this. Give up.
You've already lost one man.
A small price to pay.
And what about Maggie Gilpatrick's death?
Was that a small price to pay as well?
What about Maggie? She had nothing to do with this.
She knew what she was getting into.
What?
Jennings?
What about you, Eddie?
Two people have now died.
Is this what you thought you were getting into?
Just shut up. All right?
Sir, this arrived at The Gazette 20 minutes ago.
"We free the prince when you free Ireland. "
That's an impossible demand.
There's something not quite right here.
How did they get onto our plans?
Well, think, Crabtree.
They must have got someone on the inside.
I'm pretty certain it's not one of us,
and it's definitely not His Highness.
So, who does that leave?
- Jennings. - Exactly.
We need to send a telegram.
I'll wire Scotland Yard, find out everything they know.
Good man.
You're going to kill us, Eddie.
What has to be done has to be done.
Just like Maggie Gilpatrick?
Is that why she was murdered?
No.
No, she was killed because she came to her senses, didn't she?
She realized that this is not the answer.
Deep down, you know it, too, don't you?
Eddie, I know how painful it must have been
to lose your wife and daughter,
but this is no way to resolve those feelings.
I'm not going to let them get away with it, Will.
- Sir, I found something. - So did we.
Listen up!
This just arrived from the Home Office.
It seems that David Jennings had a brother who went by an alias.
Tucker. John Tucker.
Who we know was shot.
But, then, if it was Jennings,
then, I mean, could he have killed his own brother?
It's a possibility.
What do you have there, Higgins?
I searched high and low for anything on Eddie, sir.
These are land titles.
Eddie Cullen lived in the city,
but his mother had a country house.
She left it to him when she died.
I've done some checking, sir. No one has lived there since.
Crabtree, get the carriages ready.
Mulligan, break out the armory.
So, is this what you believe in now, Eddie?
Killing an innocent man
to avenge the deaths of innocent people?
That man isn't innocent.
He has the blood of my family on his hands.
He didn't kill Abigail and Katie.
He's not responsible.
What happened to the man I knew, Edward?
The man about to go into the seminary?
The man who believed in the sanctity of life?
He died with his family, Will. He's dead.
I don't believe you.
This is the police!
You're surrounded!
Come out and throw down your guns!
How'd they find us?
Who snitched?
Who bleeding snitched?
Was it you?
You?
Huh?
You treacherous liars.
I'll kill the bleeding lot of you.
Jennings! Nobody snitched.
They just caught up to us. That's all, all right?
Jennings! Surrender now!
If you don't, we're coming in for you.
What are you doing?
Jennings, what are you doing? Will you stop it?
It's the only way.
The prince dies now.
Are you mad, man?
Shut up!
He dies now.
And we die with him.
Patrick.
Put it down.
Put the bleeding thing down now. You're not thinking straight.
Why?
Was it you that gave us away?
All your meetings with your bleeding detective there?
- He didn't say anything. - Shut up!
He's telling the truth. I'm with you.
All right?
Well, prove it.
Shoot him.
This what you want now, yeah?
Do it, Cullen.
This what you want, yeah?
Do it!
You're not a killer, Eddie.
Maybe I am.
Eddie!
Drop that gun! Drop it!
Come on, out!
Your Highness, this way!
Go, go, go!
Eddie, where are you going?
Will, I'll have a noose around my neck within a week.
No, no. I'll tell them what you did.
You saved the prince's life.
I'm going off to join my family, Will.
What? Eddie.
I'll see you on the other side. All the best, all right?
No!
Sir, no!
Are you all right?
I fear Eddie died for nothing.
He had a change of heart.
He died heroically.
That's what I keep trying to convince myself of.
Nothing so important can ever come too late.
I hope not.
I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?
No, William.
I'm just glad you're here.
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