"Sir?" "This chap was walking his dog when he discovered the body." "He's had quite a shock." "Understandably." "And the body wasn't disturbed in any way?" "No, sir." "It was found where it lies." "Or where it is, I suppose." "His head, sir." "It's..." "Rotated. 180 degrees." "The sheer force required to do something inhuman." "Yes, George." "That thought had crossed my mind." "You serious, Murdoch?" "A soldier's head back to front?" "A rather disquieting sight, sir." "And the body tossed up into a tree?" "So it would appear, yes." "Bloody hell!" "That's pure dead weight, to be thrown around like a rag doll." "Sir, the circumstances would suggest that the killer is highly determined." "Highly determined?" "A deranged ape is what he is." "And what in the hell was a soldier doing running around out there to begin with?" "I've contacted the armoury, sir." "Perhaps the military's representative will have an explanation." "He's due at the morgue shortly." "Just mind that you stand your ground." "I'm sorry, sir?" "Well, in my experience, the military takes care of its own." "They won't enjoy the constabulary looking into their business." "I see." "I'll proceed with respect and authority of law." "Authority first, Murdoch." "And respect will follow." "Death was instantaneous." "The victim's third, fourth, and fifth cervical vertebrae were shattered, transecting spinal column." "Yes, I believe the term is death by spinal shock." "Oh!" "Been to the library again, have you?" "Anyway, key items of interest are multiple broken ribs, shattered femur, ruptured spleen." "But there's no bruising." "Meaning that the victim was severely beaten after he was dead." "Rage, suggesting a personal aspect." "I remember a case in London where a group of hooligans beat a young lad for a full half hour after he'd succumbed." "Just for the fun of it." "Point taken." "But you didn't mention these bruises on the upper arm and torso." "They have yellowed." "Clearly, the victim endured a beating previous to last night." "Important information, doctor." "Do you have any other observations, or shall I continue with my own examination?" "Colonel Heywood." "Of the Queen's Canadian Rifles." "What is this?" "A bloody reception hall?" "Detective William Murdoch." "This is our pathologist, Dr Francis." "Fine." "May I?" "Yes, of course." "He's one of our own." "Corporal Joseph Fryer." "My condolences." "You weren't specific over the telephone, Detective." "Was it a fall, then?" "An accident?" "No, sir." "He was murdered." "I want the body released to the armoury immediately, Detective." "Oh." "Dr Henderson, our Medical Officer, will perform our own post-mortem, while you hunt down the killer." "I don't wish to offend you, Dr Francis." "Oh, I bet you don't." "Begging your pardon, Colonel, but I'll be deciding when the body is to be released." "Detective Murdoch..." "It would be most helpful if you could explain Corporal Fryer's presence in the woods last night." "I'm sure it would be helpful, if I knew." "I take that to mean your man was absent without leave?" "I'll have to refer you to his commanding officer," "Major Gregory Cole of the British 191st Fusiliers." "He's here on loan to train some of our men." "Now, if that is all?" "Yes, sir." "That is all." "Made another friend there, have you?" "Excuse me?" "I'm looking for Major Cole?" "On guard!" "Charge!" "On guard." "Charge!" "On guard." "Charge!" "Get stuck in there." "Group one, on guard!" "Charge!" "Group two, on guard, charge!" "Section stand down." "State your business, sir." "Detective William Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary." "I'm here to investigate the death of Corporal Joseph Fryer." "Yes, Detective." "This way, please." "We were devastated when Colonel Heywood broke the news." "Corporal Fryer was well liked." "And as promising a soldier as I've had the pleasure to train." "Do you know of anyone who may have wished him harm?" "Nobody that I'm aware of, Detective." "Certainly not amongst my men." "This team is a close-knit group." "All for one, as it were." "I see." "Feel free to ask the men any questions about the Corporal." "They want nothing more than his killer brought to justice." "As do I. Very good." "Thank you, Major." "Thank you, gentlemen." "Corporal Ned Young, sir." "Corporal Raymond Tennant, sir." "Detective William Murdoch." "Were both of you gentlemen in the barracks last night?" "Yes, sir." "I have the bunk above Fryer's, and Corporal Young the one adjacent." "When did you become aware that Corporal Fryer was no longer in the armoury?" "Right before roll call this morning, at five?" "All the other lads were surprised to see him gone, too." "I thought maybe he went on a midnight prowl." "Cynthia is her name." "I highly doubt Corporal Fryer rendezvoused with his sweetheart armed with his Lee Enfield rifle." "I can see your point, sir." "We want whoever did this hanging from a rope." "Yes, well." "Do either of you recall this Cynthia's last name?" "You're certain it's him?" "Unfortunately yes, Miss Fletcher." "Well, if Joseph was out wondering late, it wasn't to see me." "Whoever she is, I don't know her name." "I can assure you Corporal Fryer was not pursuing amorous activity." "Cold comfort, I'm sure." "In any case, here I am." "25, three months of courtship wasted." "And in your time together, how would you describe your relationship?" "When we first met he was all things." "Charming, confident and very... energetic." "Had that changed?" "Well, lately I did notice Joseph was having his moods." "He wouldn't talk about it, but something was bothering him." "Can you hazard a guess as to what that may have been?" "No." "Right." "Had he been quarrelling with anyone as of late?" "There was one night last week." "Joseph was on leave, he came by for a... visit." "He'd been in a fight." "He was full of curses for a man named..." "Lawton, I believe." "Joseph's lip was bleeding on my floor," "I sent him away promptly." "Naturally." "And did he mention where he had been that evening?" "He was in his cups - the Raven and Flag." "Will this take long, Detective?" "I have thirsty patrons needing eye-openers." "Please, have a seat, Mr Skinner." "I understand a Joseph Fryer frequented your establishment?" "Yes, he was a regular, until a few weeks ago." "Yet someone told me that he had an altercation there with one of your patrons just a short while ago?" "A man named Lawton?" "Not at the Raven and Flag, he didn't." "And I have never heard of a man named Lawton before." "KNOCK ON WINDOW" "Pardon me, Mr Skinner." "WHISPERING" "Thank you." "Are you sure Mr Fryer didn't participate in any fights at your establishment?" "Specifically in the back room?" "The back room?" "Yes." "My constables discovered a boxing venue there, as well as these." "Teeth?" "So what?" "You shutting me down?" "Tell me what I want to know about Fryer, and we'll see." "Yeah, he fought there." "He was a damn fine pugilist, too." "For a while, he was winning all the bloody time." "What about Mr Lawton?" "Tell me what you know about him?" "I honestly never heard of that man before." "I swear it." "And it has been a few weeks since anybody's seen Fryer." "Most likely due to the fact that he lost every fight in the past month." "Perhaps he was wagering against himself?" "No, no, no, no, no, no." "He just couldn't fight." "It was almost like he was dead punch drunk." "So, a brawling soldier on a winning streak, suddenly goes soft and moody." "Someone named Lawton gave him a bloody lip last week, but you don't know where that took place." "No one knows why Fryer went AWOL, and not a single murder suspect stinking up my jail cells." "I miss anything, Murdoch?" "Sir, the humiliation of losing could be motive." "Fryer had been winning most of his matches for quite some time." "Perhaps one of his opponents was getting even." "Getting even?" "You break a fella's nose, Murdoch, you don't nearly tear a man's head right off and hang him in a tree." "Yes." "Somewhat of a stretch, as you might say, sir." "If Joseph Fryer had been involved in illegal prize fighting, perhaps he was also active in other unsavoury endeavours?" "Sirs, pardon the interruption." "Yes, George?" "We have another body off Lennox St." "It's certainly connected to the Joseph Fryer case." "Sir, this can't be a coincidence." "This is Corporal Ned Young, George." "I interviewed him this morning." "Knife wound to the spine." "His jaw appears to be broken." "Post mortem, I'd suspect." "What can it all mean, sir?" "Perhaps the question is, what do Corporals Young and Fryer have in common?" "We know they resided in the same barracks, and were part of the same squad." "A squad that, for some unknown reason, has become someone's target of choice." "Fryer, and now Young." "They were like blood brothers." "Terribly sorry, Major Cole." "If I may, what was Corporal Young doing away from the armoury today?" "He was upset over Corporal Fryer's death." "I gave him leave for the afternoon to contend with his grief." "Of course." "May I have a duplicate of your squad's service records?" "Of course, Detective." "Whatever you need." "Thank you." "Are you at all familiar with a man named Lawton?" "Lawton?" "I don't believe so." "I see." "Major, I strongly suggest you put the rest of your squad on alert, and possibly even confine them." "I've already issued that alert, as per Major Cole's orders." "Please forgive my incomplete knowledge of military standings, but doesn't Colonel out-rank Major?" "Major Cole is an honoured British adviser, a veteran of the Transvaal" "Boer War, and the Battle of Tel el-Kebir in Egypt." "His experience is invaluable to the training of our men." "And we are most grateful." "Very well." "Thank you, gentlemen." "That Colonel Heywood seems quite the horse's a..." "Thank you, George." "Once Major Cole supplies the information, please look into the civilian background of every soldier in this squad." "Sir." "Will do." "Two dead soldiers from the same squad." "Any theories, Murdoch?" "Past indiscretions, perhaps?" "Both Corporals Young and Fryer had previous criminal backgrounds." "Receiving stolen goods, selling stolen goods, as well as assault convictions." "In fact, of the seven men in Major Cole's squad, five of them had criminal backgrounds." "Back in '79, most every man in my Afghan contingent had been thieves or vagabonds at some point." "The army's the last bastion for some." "And you, sir?" "Well, I made it into the Constabulary, didn't I?" "Yes, I'm well aware of the thorough screening process." "Excuse me, sirs." "What have you, George?" "An interesting turn, I would say." "I looked into Joseph Fryer's estate." "I found that he and Corporal Young, and the other members of the squad, are engaged in a binding legal pact, payable upon their deaths." "You mean a tontine." "Yes, exactly, sir." "A tontine is a kind of group insurance policy." "Everyone pays in, last surviving member inherits the whole kit and caboodle." "Well then." "Perhaps one of the soldiers in this tontine is trying to cash in prematurely." "Corporal Tennant, I understand your squad entered into a tontine agreement three months ago?" "Yes, sir." "We hired a lawyer to make it fair and legal." "And what inspired you to enter into this agreement?" "Inspired?" "We don't need inspiration, we're combat soldiers." "But your squad hadn't seen combat prior to entering into the tontine, and it still hasn't." "To my knowledge, Canada has yet to engage in any war." "War is brewing everywhere, pretty well all the time, sir." "We stand ready to defend the British Empire." "That means we could be into it tomorrow." "Are you feeling anxious, Corporal?" "Yes, sir." "Bit on edge, which is understandable, given these murders." "Indeed." "I'll need to see a copy of this tontine agreement." "That is unless, of course, you have any objections?" "None that I can think of." "Matthew Larson?" "He was full of curses for a man named..." "Lawton, I believe." "Good work today, men." "Now you're looking like soldiers." "Squad, dis-missed!" "Thank you, Tom." "Detective Murdoch." "Have you made any progress with your investigation?" "Why did you leave Corporal Matthew Larson's name off your squad list?" "Well it's quite simple, Detective." "You requested a list of the men under my command." "Mr Larson was discharged long ago." "And why was he discharged?" "I'm instructing the men in anti-guerrilla warfare." "A Dutch concept, known as Commando." "It's light infantry, with emphasis on reconnaissance, camouflage and marksmanship." "The nature of war is changing, Detective." "Our soldiers must adapt." "Mr Larson wasn't up to the challenge." "I see." "Where might I find him now?" "His exact whereabouts, I'm not sure." "But I do know he was a local boy." "Mr Larson, please, help me find your son." "It could be he had nothing to do with this." "But if he did," "I need to find him, and stop him before any more harm can be done." "You know, Matthew was a good farm boy." "But not soldier material." "Not enough..." "self-control, discipline." "Do you have a photograph of him?" "Yes, yes." "It's right in that drawer there." "That would be him in the back there, second from" "the right." "These are baobab trees?" "Mm, yes." "It was taken four or five months ago, on a training mission to Africa." "He said he was going to go out there and prove he could handle himself." "Of course he couldn't." "I suppose when you don't live up to your own expectations, it'll take its toll." "He come back, he was all hot-tempered, and... haunted, I suppose you'd say." "Haunted?" "How do you mean?" "The boy who went out there, he was full of pride." "He comes back, just hating himself." "You know, I should have held on to the family farm, it would have been something for Matthew to settle down on." "But I didn't, so... well, now that old farmhouse is just ruined, it's sitting out there at the edge of the city." "Higgins, Guthrie, this way." "George." "Is that Larson?" "Corporal Tennant." "Keep your eyes open, George." "Stop!" "No, George." "Fan out along the tree line." "I want him alive." "Yes, sir." "And then, like a jack-in-the-box from hell, out pops Larson, screaming bloody murder." "Face sickly, covered in lesions, like... like the sixth plague of Egypt." "I beg your pardon?" "Yes, sir." "The sixth plague of Egypt." "I've been researching it for my murder mystery." "The plague of boils." "That's what Larson's face was like." "Terrible condition." "Very contagious." "In fact..." "The constable's somewhat dramatic account is essentially accurate." "Larson seemed crazed and very much in ill-health." "Ill-health?" "But still fit enough to kill Corporal Tennant, and to make his escape." "True, sir." "But one puzzling thing." "He broke off the attack, sir." "He looked right at me, and then suddenly seemed surprised." "I got the impression that he initially thought I was someone else." "So he's crazed, but not crazy enough to kill just anyone." "Except soldiers?" "Sir, may I suggest that we post men at his father's house?" "In case Larson seeks refuge there." "George?" "Sir, I'll see to it." "Thank you." "Higgins!" "And what about the military?" "A lot of good they've done in all this mess." "Well, sir." "Major Cole has been co-operative, but as I'm finding out, not particularly forthcoming with details." "For starters, what the bloody hell was Corporal Tennant doing at the Larson farm?" "Corporal Tennant disobeyed a direct order." "The squad was confined to the armoury last night." "But it seems Corporal Tennant decided to take matters into his own hands." "Perhaps the man in your squad aren't "all for one", as you previously thought?" "Now why would that be?" "All I know is, I've lost another man." "And Larson is free to kill again." "Are you sure it's not time to allow the military to assume control of the investigation?" "I'm quite sure." "And if it were your men dropping like flies?" "I will bring Larson to justice, you can rest assured of that." "As you wish." "Larson was visibly ill when I encountered him." "He seemed crazed." "There's something you should see, Detective." "What are they suffering from?" "Dr Henderson hasn't determined that yet." "Perhaps it's some sort of foreign disease, something they contracted in Africa?" "Pardon me, Detective?" "Major, I've seen photographic proof that Matthew Larson and other soldiers under your command spent time in Africa." "Now, if you would prefer that I discuss this with Colonel Heywood?" "He knows full well my men were in Africa, but I ask that you not speak of this to anyone outside of the armoury." "Those details are restricted." "Your men were on training manoeuvres in Africa?" "Four months ago, in February." "For a three-week period in the Transvaal region." "Political powder keg." "From what I understand, another potential Boer war?" "I hope not." "But, as I said, my squad were there for training purposes and, with the exception of Mr Larson, my team performed remarkably well." "Well, again, I ask you, sir, what are they suffering from?" "African trypanosomiasis." "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" "African trypanosomiasis, or, to the common man, sleeping sickness." "There was an outbreak in the Congo about two years ago." "Since then, thousands have died throughout the dark continent." "The disease is spread by the bite of the tsetse fly." "And what are the chances of several soldiers in the same squad getting this disease?" "Very good, actually." "If they were all in Africa." "Is that everything?" "No." "Doctor, might you enlighten me with the common symptoms of this sleeping sickness?" "Fever, headache, death." "Now that's a symptom you don't want to ignore." "Thank you, Doctor." "Oh, pleasure." "Oh, just a second, Murdoch." "Let's have a look." "Thrombophlebitis." "Torticollis." "Trypanosomiasis, here we are." "African." ""Symptoms are swollen lymph nodes, joint pain, itchiness, confusion." ""If left untreated, neurological damage, dementia and death."" "Let's not forget about death." "Yes, death." "Nothing about crazed aggression, facial lesions?" "No." "Nothing about that." "Wait a minute." "When did you say these men returned from their African campaign?" "Several months ago." "But... the entire life cycle of this disease is three weeks." "Well, then it impossible for the soldiers I saw are afflicted with this particular disease." "Something else must be at play." "You know, it's just stunning, this detecting mind of yours." "Sir?" "What the hell do you want?" "Sir, we have a problem with the Larson residence." "What the bloody hell is this all about?" "Inspector Brackenweed, Colonel Heywood." "I'm posting these men with orders to place Matthew Larson under military arrest on site." "Are you now, Colonel?" "Funny, that." "Because wherever Mr Larson is captured, he needs to be taken into the custody of the Toronto Constabulary." "Under the terms of confederation, the Canadian military has the right to issue control of..." "You're not listening to me, sunshine." "The second you step out of the armoury, you lose all jurisdictional control." "And, I'll read you the Federal Militia Act if I bloody well have to." "I don't want anyone to be lurking around here waiting to shoot my son." "That's not going to happen, Mr Larson." "Gentlemen, may I suggest a compromise?" "Constable Higgins will remain here well as one of your soldiers." "Equal representation from both sides." "Best accept it, Colonel." "I'd rather not arrest you for obstructing a police investigation." "You're to report in each hour." "And you, Higgins, every half hour." "Excuse me, Inspector." "Wesley?" "Right, fun's over." "What's next?" "Sir, I'm going to return to the Infirmary." "Either Dr Henderson has misdiagnosed what's ailing these men, or there's a concerted effort to keep us from the truth." "Very good, Murdoch." "I think it's time you considered wearing spectacles, Detective." "Forgive me for the intrusion, Doctor." "I'm really checking in on the condition of your patients." "They're under quarantine." "You'll have to leave." "They have an infectious disease!" "Then perhaps you should consider wearing a mask, Dr Henderson." "Sorry to disturb you, soldier." "I wonder if I could ask you a few questions." "Yeah." "Why has Matthew Larson turned against your unit?" "Can you tell me why he was discharged?" "Larson discharged himself." "He wasn't up for it." "He couldn't cope." "Does it have to do with the training in Africa?" "Yeah." "What happened in Africa?" "Detective Murdoch." "You'll leave the premises immediately." "Of your own accord, or by force." "Thank you for your time, Corporal." "I hope you have a speedy recovery." "I completed a post mortem analysis of all three soldiers." "Curiously, each of them suffered kidney damage, but I've been unable to find the cause." "It's not like anything I've seen before." "And we know they weren't suffering from sleeping sickness?" "And the same can be said for the soldiers in the, amoury's infirmary?" "Well, they could be ill with some unknown infectious disease." "You could have raised that point earlier, Doctor." "Yes, I suppose I could have." "Now, you might want to take note of Corporal Young here." "I'd assumed his injuries were from a beating, but if I'd just peel this back here, you can see that a portion of his liver has been compressed through the upper ribs." "Now, that is consistent with a fall from some height." "A fall?" "Yes." "I'm all but certain that's what I just said." "This is where Corporal Young's body was found." "The impact was on the front, right side of his body, meaning he fell forward from..." "Sir, it looks like Corporal Young had something of a sniper's nest made up." "I wonder what he was hoping to shoot." "George." "I believe Corporal Larson was not the hunter, but the hunted." "I don't know about that, sir." "We have three dead soldiers." "Yes, but perhaps he knew they were tracking him." "And got to them first." "You think they were trying to kill one of their own?" "Why would they do that?" "And why would Young set up here?" "How would he know that Larson would be anywhere near this area of town?" "I don't know, George." "Obviously forced entry, sir." "Larson, perhaps?" "Sssh." "Dr Henderson." "Good afternoon." "I'd say it's time you answered a few questions." "Dr Henderson, what's the purpose of this labatory?" "I use it to store supplies." "And run medical tests." "There's no room for a proper laboratory at the armoury." "A proper doctor?" "This place seems to be in shambles." "Ah, yes." "I was just straightening up so I could resume my attempt to find a cure for whatever disease is afflicting our soldiers." "But you've already diagnosed it as sleeping sickness." "That was a preliminary diagnosis." "I wanted to be sure." "Doctor, we both know that none of what you are telling me is true." "Believe what you like, Detective." "Matthew Larson broke in here yesterday and caused all this mess, didn't he?" "Now, what was he looking for?" "I heard you told the major Larson is very ill." "Larson knows where my laboratory is located so I assumed he was looking for a cure for his illness." "Whatever that may be." "If I may say, sir, it seemed that you were in quite a hurry to pack up the place just now." "Am I free to go?" "You, sir, are free to come down to the station house for further questioning." "He seems to be creating some sort of medicinal compound." "There's something so familiar about these materials." "You know, the diluted acid, synthesised alkaloids, and this dried ephedra plant." "Ephedra." "Ephedra." "Ephedra." "Ephedrine?" "I read an article about the Japanese chemist in Tokyo." "Nagai Nagayoshi?" "Yes." "In 1893 he used the ephedra plant to produce ephedrine." "He synthasised that into what he dubbed methamphetamine, a potent stimulant, heightening alertness, energy and aggression." "Noted side-effects of memory loss, seizures...and kidney damage." "And would you say that if taken in high enough doses can a this methamphetamine could cause deranged behaviour?" "And skin lesions?" "Deranged behaviour, certainly." "Although, you know, I've heard that a laboratory animals given long-term doses of stimilants do begin to pick and tear at their skin." "And were the skin tears to become infected, they would have the appearance of sores and legions." "I believe we're on to Dr Henderson's dirty little deeds." "Yes, each soldier under Major Cole's command was injected with methamphetamine." "I prescribed a conservative daily dosage which proved quite successful." "Alertness and stamina increased dramatically." "Until you discovered the side-effects." "Is that correct?" "I confess the drug creates strong dependency." "Which would explain why Matthew Larson broke into your labatory." "He was desperate for more methamphetamine." "There wasn't much there, but he did find some." "Detective, believe me." "Once I established Mr Larson was acting negatively to his treatment, the military acted responsibly and terminated the project." "Who gave that order?" "Major Cole." "So the soldiers in your infirmary aren't suffering from some infectious disease?" "They're going through withdrawal?" "Psychomotor stimulant withdrawal, to be precise." "Yes, let's be precise." "Just when did you begin to administer methamphetamine?" "Was it before or after Africa?" "I'm not at liberty to discuss that." "It doesn't make sense to me." "Why give soldiers drugs and risk impairing their judgment?" "My time in Afghanistan taught me that fighting spirit was near the bottom of the bottle." "Alcohol could ease the anxiety of charging into a hail of bullets, but it would be far better to heighten senses, not dampen them." "Methamphetamine could be very beneficial on the battlefield." "Depending on the battle, a touch of memory loss might not hurt either." "Yes, well, use of the drug could play a major role in the future of warfare, for better or for worse." "Nevertheless, I want this Major Cole brought in to explain himself." "Of course, sir." "And what about our fugitive, Mr Larson?" "Running around somewhere mad on methamphetamine, anyone who comes near him could be his next victim." "I don't think so, sir." "Larson could have killed me, but he stopped himself." "And though I believe the use of methamphetamine resulted in the highly aggressive murders, I don't think that's the whole story." "How so?" "George, go to the library archives and research any articles written on" "South Africa, British and Canadian newspapers, written in the last five months or so." "Yes, sir." "What are you thinking, Murdoch?" "Well, sir, the men in Major Cole's squad pursued Larson with murderous intent." "I believe as a result of something that happened in Africa." "Something that caused his comrades to turn against him." "And before I meet with Major Cole again, I want to know what that was." ""British families slaughtered in Carletonville." ""In the dead of night, Boer militia set the" ""houses aflame and shot done anyone who tried to escape the inferno." ""No one was spared, including women and children."" "Listen to this. "A Boer militia camp was wiped out with what's been described as military precision." ""British High Command denies any of their combat troops were within 200 miles of the incident."" "George, that's five days after the British families were slaughtered in Carletonville." "Unofficial retaliation, perhaps?" "Major Cole's squad." "It's possible, George." "They were at training in the area." "And these killings are all so exceptionally brutal." "What is it now, Detective?" "Major Cole, why did you not discharge Corporal Larson sooner than you did?" "Clearly he wasn't coping with his dosage of methamphetamine." "Yes, I know about the drug." "Corporal Larson became a liability." "And perhaps I'll have to accept the theoretical responsibility for that." "However, all military trials with methamphetamine have been cancelled." "Major, am I to assume that your experiments with these drugs are news to Colonel Heywood?" "No, Detective." "The Canadian military is in full support of our British joint operations." "So you're aware that Corporal Larson's dependency on methamphetamine is directly related to the training missions in South Africa?" "Detective Murdoch, you are reaching." "And this is why your men were on methamphetamine." "Inciting them to savagely killed Boer militia without question." "Yes, it's true your men were on a training mission in South Africa." "But you took advantage of the opportunity to launch an attack on Boer militia at Krugersdorp." "Such is war." "But we are not at war in South Africa." "Don't be naive!" "You don't need an official declaration of war to be engaged in one." "The Dutch provoked all of this." "So you admit that the massacre was retaliation for the events at Carletonville?" "What would you have us do?" "Stand idle while British innocents are senselessly murdered and have no response?" "I'm done here, Detective Murdoch." "Matters of the nation and the Crown are beyond you." "Sir, I think we have a situation." "Higgins just telephoned from the Larson residence." "And..." "At least, I think it was Higgins." "Clarify yourself, George." "Sorry." "He only spoke a few words but he said something about "he's here", and then the line went dead." "I called back several times." "Come." "Constable Higgins." "George." "Higgins!" "What happened?" "I was hit from behind." "I heard Larson upstairs." "Detective!" "Detective." "Matthew came home." "He charged through the front door there, and struck these two poor men." "Then he just ran off." "Mr Larson, these men were hit from behind." "Taken by surprise." "I suspect by you." "And I think I know why." "Matthew was here this afternoon when we were all here, wasn't he?" "COUGHING" "Please, detective." "Just leave him be." "Step inside, Mr Larson." "Please, just leave him be." "The fire." "They were burning." "Screaming." "SCREAMING AND GUNSHOTS" "Gentlemen, we have him." "A guared failed to report in and now I see why." "Stand aside, detective." "We're taking Larsen into custody." "I won't allow that, Colonel." "Especially now that I know the full extent of Major Cole's tactics." "There are children...burning." "Stand aside, Murdoch." "Not only are you guilty of the killings in Krugersdorp, but you ordered your squad to kill innocent British men, women and children in Carletonville." "I said move!" "Major." "You sacrificed innocent women and children to bring on war, to give the British licence to attack the Boers." "Surely you must be mistaken." "Corporal Larson, what happened in Africa?" "We killed our own." "Is this true, Major?" "What did you tell the men?" "Did they know they were murdering British civilians?" "Did you tell them?" "Yes." "I told them." "But only after my orders were carried out." "Which is why your men obeyed your orders to hunt down Mr Larson." "You and your squad couldn't risk Larson exposing the truth about your mission in Africa." "Those were once my men." "Good soldiers." "You've turned them into murderers." "Heywood, please." "You colonialists." "You don't understand what it takes to preserve an empire." "The privileged lives you all lead." "They don't come without cost." "Or sacrifice." "Damn your blood." "Colonel, no." "Major Cole will face justice in a military court in front of his peers with you as a witness." "GUNSHOT" "Sir." "According to the doctors at Toronto General Hospital, Major Cole will survive." "A telegram." "From the British Secretary of State for War, claiming that Major Cole and his squad had gone rogue." "And that the Brits deny any involvement in these "unfortunate affairs"." "Surely they don't expect us to believe that!" "It's all bollocks." "That bastard Cole will merely slink off with a dishonourable discharge and probably a pension to go with it." "You know what happened to me the first time I saw combat, Murdoch?" "I fired over the heads of the enemy." "I couldn't bring myself to shoot another man." "Mind you, the first shots that whistled past my ears," "I tightened up my aim considerably." "Forcing men to kill, that's for military's biggest battle." "No doubt Major Cole was aware of that." "He knew that his untested men would hesitate at killing in cold blood." "Methamphetamine helped them overcome that." "At the cost of losing their faculties." "When it became obvious that Corporal Larson couldn't cope with what he'd done, Major Cole panicked and increased his dose of methamphetamine." "But it turned him into a madman." "A dangerous liability." "What's the prognosis for Larson?" "He's been placed in permanent care." "But I'm told the brain damage is too far along." "Thankfully the programme that made him this way is no longer." "Don't kid yourself, Murdoch." "A second Boer War is on the horizon." "It's too profitable to avoid." "And the Canadian military will do anything to prove their mettle alongside the Brits." "Another Cole will be along to restart the programme." "Perhaps so, sir." "And what will become of Corporal Larson's father?" "The old man took revenge for what they did to his son." "If I was a judge, I'd be thanking him." "But come the trial, he just might be in need of a helpful witness." "Yes, sir." "He might be at that." "Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd" "♪ MOZART:" "The Magic Flute"