It's an excellent likeness of James Pendrick,
wouldn't you agree, Willie? Excellent, yes.
But the building itself is a far better portrait of the man.
Solid steel, reinforced concrete skeleton.
Gearless traction electric elevators and a full 11 storeys.
Julia, could you imagine anything so grand in Toronto?
William, it's breathtaking.
Breathtaking, yes.
No more masonry wall, load transference ratios...
Bathsheba At Her Bath is a true vessel of tragedy.
The most exquisite nude of Rembrandt's career.
We are indebted to Mrs Pendrick for sharing this jewel with us
at this most prestigious of showings. Signore Carducci,
il moto gentile. James and I are delighted
that an art connoisseur like yourself could join us.
I came to Canada in search of rising young talent, but what do I find?
A European masterpiece endowing its light upon the colonies.
Really, do we have to endure this asinine twaddle?
Grovelling over long-dead painters.
Such impertinence, such fire!
Art is a living, breathing organism.
What is this snobbish obsession with anything ancient?
My dear Burt, the difference between the dead masters and you moderns
is that the dead have better manners.
William, it's simply stunning.
See how Rembrandt made equal use of agitated and serene brushstrokes.
She's beautiful, and haunting.
Note the rich, ochre pigment of the robe.
So rare to see a nude that portrays a woman as a whole person.
An astute observation.
Dr Julia Ogden, is it not?
Why, yes. Mrs Pendrick.
Your father talks incessantly about your accomplishments.
Well, not to me!
It's so good of you to join us.
And this gentleman?
Detective William Murdoch, of the Toronto Constabulary.
I was told they'd send their finest to keep an eye on my painting.
It's an honour to guard such a masterpiece, Mrs Pendrick.
I take it you're familiar with Rembrandt's work, Detective?
To some small extent.
Correct.
Perhaps that's why he was able to evoke
so much compassion on the canvas.
Such raw intimacy.
Perhaps.
How much longer is this soiree supposed to last?
About another hour, I think.
Must be some painting if Pendrick's own security isn't enough.
A priceless painting of a woman sans clothing, I'm told.
Seems a shame to hide it away in the Pendrick mansion where no-one else can see it.
Once again, thank you all for coming. It has been our pleasure to share such a treasure with you.
Now it's time to put this fine lady to bed.
Clarkson, thank you.
Here she comes.
It's moving at quite a speed.
State-of-the-art technology, so Detective Murdoch tells me.
I'm glad it's not me up there. I get dizzy standing on a ladder.
I bet you could overcome that, Higgins.
The idea would be to start with a diminutive ladder,
then each day progressing to a slightly larger ladder until...
You had an excess of ladders.
She's something fast, all right.
My God.
I think he's dead.
And where's the Rembrandt?
Sir, I don't understand how it's possible.
The elevator did not stop, I swear.
Paintings, priceless or otherwise, don't just disappear.
Sir, I watched the dial with my own eyes. As did I.
In the meantime, George, as the building search gets underway...
You'll need statements from the guests, did they see anything untoward and such.
Thank you, George.
What have you, doctor?
A small knife wound below the shoulder blade, no doubt piercing the heart.
He died instantly? Within seconds, I should think.
The killer, or killers most likely, could have been on top of the car,
and entered and exited through the hatch.
Nothing up here.
But the opening is far too small for that painting to fit through.
Could it have been cut from the frame?
Any attempt to fold or roll a painting as old as a Rembrandt would destroy it and render it worthless.
It would have had to be taken in its frame.
Dear God, how could this happen?
Poor Clarkson. I don't understand, my security was impeccable. Excuse me, doctor.
Mr Pendrick? Detective William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary.
Detective, who would do such a thing, murder an innocent man?
It's clearly the work of brazen professionals.
However, I assure you, they will be caught and your painting recovered.
I will need a list of all your staff, as well as the caterers, musicians, waiters.
Of course. Whoever orchestrated this heinous crime had to have access to the building.
As well as a detailed understanding of the physical structure
and a schedule of this evening's activities.
You shall have everything you need. If you'll excuse me, I must break the terrible news to my wife.
Sir? You're needed on the third floor.
I think we've discovered how they escaped.
Right then, Henry. Get photographs and finger marks.
And collect the rope.
My desk's covered with telegrams from broadsheets around the world
wanting to know how a masterpiece disappears into thin air.
It didn't disappear. A logical explanation will surface.
These thieves have got a bloody cheek. Why the lift?
The elevator ride was the only time the Rembrandt wasn't under direct police watch.
Makes sense. Scared of us.
And the guard, was he part of it?
Frederick Clarkson, a family man with impeccable credentials.
I'm convinced he was not involved.
So the motive - ransom?
No demands have arrived.
Exactly how much is this painting worth?
A Rembrandt, Signore. Its value to civilisation cannot be equated in dollars and lira.
Signore Luca Carducci at your service.
Inspector Thomas Brackenreid.
The pleasure is mine.
Apparently. I met Signore Carducci at the unveiling last night.
He represents several European galleries and is renowned in international art circles.
Wonderful. I've asked him for his expert advice.
Anything I can do to help secure Bathsheba's return.
So in crass monetary terms, please, Mr Carducci, how much is she worth?
A Rembrandt painted in 1654?
$40,000, perhaps more.
So it could be ransomed. Or sold to some unscrupulous private collector.
I would think a work of art as famous and costly as a Rembrandt would be hard to sell.
In this provincial town? Absolutely.
So the thieves would want to get it out of Toronto. But how? A fence?
Not here, but there are such characters in the international art world.
Where would they try to sell it? Europe? Possibly, but more likely New York or Buffalo.
The nouveau riche have a voracious appetite for acquisition.
Thank you. You've been very helpful.
You're most welcome, and good luck, Signore.
Bloody arty types.
There is another possibility here, sir.
Mr Pendrick could have orchestrated his own theft.
Insurance fraud? But why? The bugger's filthy rich.
Nevertheless, an avenue we should explore. Agreed.
"Bathsheba At Her Bath". A lady's bathing ritual should not be spied upon.
Mr Pendrick? Detective.
Excuse me. I can't stop thinking about poor Clarkson - keeping the mind occupied helps.
Indeed. What are you working on?
It's a mechanism that will drive a model of the solar system, based on Eisinga's work.
The Dutchman who created the planetarium? Yes, in 1781.
It's astonishing - he calculated the movement of the planets to an accuracy within seconds.
Fascinating man. Amateur astronomer, wood carver...
Eisinga's model filled an entire room. Mine will fit into the palm of your hand.
It's remarkable. My wife took me to a flea circus, I thought, "Why not"
"combine the two ideas? Produce a planetarium on a minuscule scale."
I myself am fascinated by the idea that one day, tiny electrical circuits will be capable
of calculating vast mathematical algorithms.
Yes, you understand. Miniaturisation is the key to the future.
Yet you designed the tallest building in Toronto.
That thing? Obsolete before the last rivet went in.
I'm already developing new alloys that are lighter and stronger.
Now, have you any idea who murdered Clarkson and made off with the Rembrandt?
It's early stages still.
There's a strong possibility you'll receive a ransom note.
If one arrives, I will contact you immediately.
But surely, you didn't come here to ask me the obvious.
No, I didn't.
I take it you had an insurance policy on the painting?
I see.
Of course you have to ask, I'd expect nothing less.
Yes, the Rembrandt was insured.
I'll need to see the policy. I'll have it sent along.
Though I'm confident your scientific mind will lead to the recovery of the Rembrandt.
Thank you.
One more thing.
Clearly the Rembrandt would be a coveted possession.
There was quite a frenzied bidding process in Vienna.
Do you have any idea who the other potential buyers may have been?
That's a question for my wife. The art world is her domain.
Where might I find Mrs Pendrick?
I believe she's by the pool.
Excuse me.
I'm sorry.
Why hello, Detective Murdoch.
Perhaps another time would be better, I'll... Nonsense.
We are trying to work here.
It's all right, Burt. Detective Murdoch's investigation is far more important than my portrait.
Rembrandt stolen, world ends.
Mr Lightman is very passionate about modern art.
And his opinions, aren't you, Burt?
How can I help you, Detective?
Your husband tells me your purchase of the Rembrandt caused quite a stir in the art world.
My competitors pushed the bidding higher and higher, certain I'd lose my nerve.
Any idea who these prospective buyers were?
All the prestigious galleries. A few well-heeled individuals.
It was quite scandalous for a woman to secure the painting.
Were any of them disgruntled enough to steal it?
What a terrible thought.
But I suppose.
I'll need a list of names, if possible.
Yes, of course.
Ice water?
Thank you.
Your comments last night on Rembrandt's technique tell me you're an art lover.
I was educated by Jesuits.
They use the Classics as hooks to capture our young souls.
However, I'm less familiar with the moderns.
Then allow me to contribute to your education.
You must see Burt's work.
I... Mrs Pendrick, the painting is not yet finished.
I must insist that he... Don't be so precious, Burt. Detective Murdoch is interested.
What's your first thought?
It's... a challenging composition.
I use only primary colours, to better highlight the dynamic tension between geometric figures.
Burt's style will light the way of the future.
Then I'll be sure to pay closer attention.
The Pendricks made quite an impression when they first arrived.
Father says James Pendrick is brash, but he never liked new ideas upsetting his world order.
Mr Pendrick is something of a revolutionary thinker.
So you and he are quite like-minded?
His wife seems refreshingly modern, don't you think?
Yes. Quite modern.
Has your post-mortem determined anything? Indeed.
As I suspected, the victim died from a single stab wound to the heart.
But here's what's interesting.
The guard's right ankle was broken.
That's strange. I saw him walk into the elevator. There was no evidence of injury.
Agreed. Yet it is broken.
So how could he break an ankle inside an elevator?
Could it have fallen?
The elevator didn't fall.
But the guard did.
Sir, how did he fall in an elevator?
He didn't fall in the elevator, he fell into the elevator.
Thank you. I'm not following you, sir.
There were two elevator cars.
Two elevator cars? See?
Here. These are screw holes.
A second, false car was built on top of this one.
So the guard and the painting enter the false car.
As the elevator makes it way down, the thieves, stationed in the car below, open the hatch.
The guard falls into the car.
In doing so, he breaks his ankle.
The thieves murder him
and climb up into the false car.
The dead guard then continues his journey down to the first floor.
So Constable Higgins and I discover him in the real elevator car,
everyone assumes the crime occurred there.
And while we're busying ourselves searching down below,
the thieves and the painting got out here, on the second floor.
I think I can take it from there, sir.
They then dismantle the false elevator car,
stash the materials somewhere nearby, then go up to the third floor where they escape down the rope.
No, George, the rope was a ruse.
They wanted us to think they escaped from the third floor so we would focus our search there. Why that?
How did they get the painting out of a building surrounded by policemen?
Well, I don't imagine they could, sir.
Precisely, meaning they didn't leave the building immediately.
They laid low,
right under our noses until the commotion passed.
Yes, and once we had left...
They slip off into the night. That's a nervy pair of thieves, sir.
Yes, it's an ingenious plan.
And I think we've found their hiding place.
George, have you your skeleton key?
The remains of the false elevator.
So, the thieves removed the painting from its frame,
keeping it mounted on the stretcher.
Waited for the coast to clear before they made their getaway.
I agree with part of your theory, sir.
What part don't you agree with? The getaway part, actually.
Point taken, George.
Sir, if the thieves are dead, who has the painting?
Both thieves died in the same extraordinary manner.
A sharp, thin object pierced the right eardrum, entering the soft tissue of the brain.
They died of cerebral haemorrhage.
Murder weapon?
I'll have to examine both brains to get an exact description.
Thank you, that would be most helpful. Time of death?
I'd estimate they died in the early hours of the morning, between 3 and 4am.
Any defensive wounds? None.
So either the killer managed to surprise two ruthless thieves...
Or they let their guard down.
But why would they do that?
Sir, do you have a moment?
Yes, of course, George.
I'm just inspecting the dead thieves' clothing.
We followed up on the rope used in the getaway. It's commonly obtained.
No merchants recall selling it to anyone matching the thieves' description. Finger marks?
Sorry, sir. I guess they used gloves.
That's unfortunate. Thank you.
Sir, I can't stop thinking what a terrible way to die,
to have a sharp object plunged into your ear canal.
Indeed. I see the killer's logic. He needed to access the brain without interceding bone matter.
Still, the ear seems such a delicate part of the body. Yes, it does.
He could have gone up through the nose, I suppose.
But that wouldn't be much better, would it?
Then there's the eye socket. That's even worse.
You'd see the weapon coming towards you... Thank you, George. That's quite enough.
Forgive me, sir. Terrible business.
George, did you speak with the catering company? I did.
They reported no uniforms missing.
Then how did the thieves obtain these?
I suppose they had them sewn up.
The company's uniforms were made here in Toronto, were they not?
Yes, sir. Goldberg Tailors on Spadina. Have you found something?
Yes, George. I believe the art thieves were from Chicago.
Jonah Watson and Cyril Hughes.
Professional thieves wanted in Chicago for the armed robbery of several banks.
Dangerous characters but someone managed to kill the pair of them.
I believe they were murdered when they handed over the painting to whomever hired them.
The partner who supplied them with all the inside information.
Exactly, the mastermind behind the theft. And then this mastermind double crosses them.
Tying up all loose ends.
Come in.
Pendrick still hasn't received a note.
I think we can safely rule out ransom.
So where did the painting go?
No doubt on its way to a private collector.
Actually, sirs, it might be that your earlier instincts were correct.
I've already told you I had the Rembrandt insured.
But you didn't mention you increased the policy to $200,000.
The painting's value is one fifth of that.
Do you see this Goya?
I paid $300 for it five years ago.
What do you wager it's worth today?
I suspect its value has increased somewhat. Tenfold.
I've had offers of $3,000 and more, but I like this one - it relaxes me.
And I'm told it matches the room.
You insure art for what some fool may pay for it, not what it's worth in the moment.
Is that what your art collection is to you, Mr Pendrick, an investment?
I'm afraid it doesn't captivate my mind as it does my wife's.
Shame, really.
Common interests solidify a marriage.
And what woman do you know has the least interest in steel and concrete?
At any rate, the value of the Rembrandt is moot
since I'm sure you'll recover it. Is there anything else, Detective?
Yes, I'm wondering if you know where Mr Carducci is.
Carducci. I can't be sure,
though I understand he takes an interest in young, male painters.
Try Burt Lightman's studio.
I believe it's on the esplanade.
Detective Murdoch.
What a pleasant surprise. Good day, Mrs Pendrick.
I see you're taking your interest in the moderns seriously.
Actually, I'm here to see Signore Carducci.
I believe he's monopolising my favourite painter.
Signore Carducci, you're much in demand. Detective Murdoch.
Have you brought us good news about our lovely Bathsheba? They're welcome to that old relic.
My dear Burt. Someday, you'll be the old master to our great-grandchildren.
You're too kind. No, Signora Pendrick is right. This gentleman will soon be the talk of all Europe.
Are you leaving us, Burt?
I'm going to Paris. Signore Carducci will introduce me in all the right circles. How marvellous.
So how can I be of assistance, Detective?
Mrs Pendrick gave us a list of the buyers who coveted the Rembrandt.
Thinking if they couldn't purchase it, they would have it by whatever means necessary. Precisely.
However, we've cleared most of them.
I was hoping you might have some thoughts, given your experience in the art world.
It sounds like you are, how do you say it, grasping the straw?
I admit I seem to be quickly running out of options.
I can most certainly prepare a list for you, but I fear the Rembrandt already hangs elsewhere.
Well, thank you for your time, Signore Carducci.
Of course.
Do you like my portrait?
I'll admit a certain fascination with Mr Lightman's style.
Well then, it's yours. Just what is that?
A Burtrand Lightman. A brave choice, sir.
I must say, there is something strangely beguiling about this new non-representational form.
It's not something I would have chosen. We should put it up.
No, George. That won't be necessary.
But sir, it demands it. Better light over here.
You really want to stare at that, Murdoch?
It does have merit, sir, a step into the art of the future.
Art of the future? My lad could do better, and he's seven.
Anyway, it looks upside down.
I beg to differ, sir. This triangle should be pointing upwards.
Like a pyramid. It is the pyramids, right, sir?
What do you think, Murdoch, do you know what the painting is about?
The moderns believe interpretation lies in the eye of the beholder.
And just what is your interpretation?
Er...
It's a pyramid.
Detective, you're needed.
It's right up here, sir.
Burt Lightman, the artist.
The cause of death appears the same as the robbers'.
But why on earth would someone murder a struggling artist?
It would appear there's no honour amongst thieves.
There's no question, Lightman was killed by the same weapon used to murder the two thieves.
You're quite sure? The shape of the weapon was quite distinctive.
Same weapon? Sounds like another loose end being tied up to me.
Suggesting Mr Lightman was part of the theft.
But what role does a modern artist play in the theft of an old master?
Lightman despised the Old Masters.
Exactly, doctor. He was more likely to burn it in an act of public art protest than profit from it.
Perhaps. Or perhaps the man did protest too much.
Sir!
Some of Lightman's work. Before his geometric phase, I presume.
Seems he was quite talented in a classical sense.
Classical? I use only primary colours...
Berries and leaves, why that?
A vegetarian, perhaps?
Perhaps.
George, pack all of these up, along with the sketches.
Sir.
What have you got there, Murdoch? Pigments, sir. Used in making paint.
I know what pigments are. What have they to do with this case?
Mr Lightman went to a great deal of trouble to create these pigments.
Perhaps he wanted special colours for his special paintings.
Yes, but Lightman only painted in primary colours. No ochre.
Well, I admit that is interesting.
What's more interesting, this ochre colour is derived from buckthorn berries
commonly used by the Old Masters, particularly Rembrandt.
Why did Lightman want to make the same pigment as Rembrandt?
Unless he wanted to paint like him.
You are correct, Detective, this is the exact shade of ochre Rembrandt used. Why do you ask?
I believe Lightman was either about to, or had painted, a forgery of Bathsheba At Her Bath.
That is ridiculous.
To copy a Rembrandt requires skills Signore Lightman did not possess.
I believe he did.
We found sketches in Mr Lightman's studio.
Clearly Mr Lightman was classically trained.
So, let us say Burtrand did paint a forgery.
What use is a worthless copy to the thieves when they have the priceless original?
What if the theft of the Rembrandt was staged in order to sell an unsuspecting buyer a forgery?
But any buyer would expect such a well-known painting to be a forgery.
Even if the Rembrandt had been stolen in a sensational robbery? I see.
Then the buyer could conceive they were purchasing the original.
But what if the new owner discovers the truth?
That's the beauty of the plan.
The buyer has no recourse.
He has knowingly bought stolen property and therefore cannot report it to the authorities.
Incredible. It is brilliant in its conception.
So a viable scenario then?
Indeed. Good.
Now all I have to do is prove it.
There must be some mistake.
Perhaps Burt stumbled on something and was murdered as a result.
I'm afraid the evidence points to only one conclusion, Mrs Pendrick.
I can't believe he was involved.
How could he betray me like this?
He was a frequent guest in my house.
Do you recall him paying much attention to the Rembrandt when he visited?
He was always free to study my collection.
Could he have had time enough to forge it? I don't see how.
The Rembrandt was on loan to a gallery in New York for most of the past year.
It returned home shortly before the exhibition in Toronto.
I see. Thank you for your time. I'll see myself out. Such a waste.
Though we have his work to remember him by. Yes.
Who knows how much my portrait might be worth in a couple of years, Detective?
I do hope you're enjoying it.
It hangs in my office. I can think of no higher compliment.
Hello, Julia.
William, there you are.
I have news of the murder weapon.
By mapping a cross section of the victims' brains,
I've ascertained the weapon to be an eighth of an inch in diameter, and approximately five inches long.
Very unusual.
Perhaps something like a...
woodworking awl.
A rather specialized murder weapon, don't you think?
Both efficient and precise when thrust into the ear of the victim. Indeed.
Thank you. It's my pleasure.
This painting... Yes.
It's a Burtrand Lightman.
I see. Well, it's truly shocking.
What makes you say that?
I believe we're looking at a woman in a rather intimate pose.
Really? I'd concluded it was a landscape...
A landscape? Perhaps inspired by the stark beauty of the Canadian Shield.
Which is very... stark.
William, look again.
Surely the red triangle...
A pyramid. A pyramid?
On the Canadian Shield?
William, don't be obtuse.
It's the torso of a woman.
Sir? I have that information you wanted.
I must be getting back.
I'll leave you to enjoy your "landscape".
George. What did you find out about Mr Lightman?
As you know, the Rembrandt spent eight months of last year in New York.
Funnily enough, so did Burtrand Lightman.
Did he now? He secured a position at the very gallery that was displaying the Rembrandt.
Really? Night watchman.
So, Mr Lightman goes to New York, paints the forgery. Our mastermind has already lined up a buyer.
The grand theft is staged in Toronto. And once the forgery is painted,
Mr Lightman is no longer needed by the mastermind. He's killed.
But then, sir, if Lightman created the forgery in New York,
why are the supplies to make the pigments here in Toronto?
A very good question, George.
Well then, also, how did the mastermind
plan on getting the painting out of Toronto to the buyer?
Are you leaving us, Burt? I'm going to Paris. How marvellous.
George, I'll need you to pay a visit to the docks.
You found no baggage listed under Burtrand Lightman's name?
There was nothing in the manifest, sir.
Lightman would have transported the forgery with him to Paris.
Perhaps the painting was to go on a later passage?
No, he wouldn't risk it being lost in transit.
We're missing something here.
Sir, by all means, have a look for yourself.
His name is not on the manifest, sir.
No. But we should see what Miss Hendrickje Stoffels
is shipping more than two centuries after her death.
Hendrickje who? Hendrickje Stoffels.
Rembrandt's mistress, and model of many years.
So, now we're an art historian, are we?
The Bathsheba.
An excellent copy.
Sir?
It appears she has a twin sister.
The lad's been a busy boy.
These are quite remarkable.
Mr Lightman certainly was brazen.
Why sell one forgery when you can move... five?
Four, George.
Four, sir?
Murdoch, there are five.
Yes, but only four are copies.
I believe this one is the original Rembrandt.
Are you sure this is the original? Because they all look alike to me.
Many painters have a signature technique.
Rembrandt used a single layer of coarsely-sieved quartz as a canvas primer.
I've examined the medium used on this canvas, and it is indeed quartz.
Proving what? This is Canada, Murdoch.
You can't go anywhere without tripping over bloody quartz.
Not this type. However, it is commonly found in Holland.
There is no question, this is the Rembrandt.
Think of it, sir.
We are standing here, just as he did, assessing his masterpiece
to pronounce it done and perfect.
Sir? Thousands of dollars for some bare-arsed floozy having her feet washed.
How did Lightman get it?
He had unfettered access to the Pendrick collection.
I believe he switched the original for a forgery he made in New York on one such occasion.
So the painting exhibited at the Pendrick Building, stolen by the thieves, was a forgery.
So it would seem.
The sneaky little sod.
Do you think Lightman took it to sell himself? Perhaps.
But he didn't account for the treachery of his partner in crime.
Who killed him before he realized Lightman had the original. Exactly.
So who's behind it all, Murdoch?
For the swindle to work, the buyers must believe they are purchasing the original.
So the original can't resurface until the forgeries have been delivered. Correct.
I believe it's time for Bathsheba to return to her rightful owner.
You have exceeded my expectations, Detective.
My wife will be delighted to see the Rembrandt within these walls again.
Before you speak to her, I have invited Signore Carducci to authenticate the painting.
A mere formality. Detective, no-one can replicate the master.
Agree, but I would feel more assured we have the original if you would take a closer look.
I cannot believe the audacity.
Is something wrong?
This is a forgery. An excellent one, but...
Are you absolutely sure? Look at the eyes.
The window to Bathsheba's soul.
The forger cannot capture Rembrandt's depth of emotion.
But I don't understand...
This, this is surely as great a crime.
To have her back once more only to see her taken away.
I am terribly sorry to have raised your hopes, sir. It is late.
I have a pressing engagement.
Good evening, gentlemen.
It's all right, Detective. If it weren't for Signore Carducci, I too would have judged this the original.
Interesting you should say that.
Please excuse me, there is a matter I must attend to.
Yes, of course.
Mannaggia!
So that's where you hid it.
Detective... I... You what? Can explain?
I doubt that very much, Mr Carducci.
I just watched you declare the real Rembrandt a forgery.
There was only one reason to do that.
To maintain the swindle you'd orchestrated. I admit nothing.
Except perhaps going to a great deal of trouble to steal a worthless fake.
Burt Lightman exchanged the Rembrandt for one of his forgeries while it was in the Pendrick home.
You, sir, are a thief and a murderer.
But to orchestrate this you had help.
Where did you get the inside information you needed?
The building plans, the movement of the painting?
Someone else had a hand in this.
Who was it?
Who are you working for?
As you already know, Detective, I am a professional who abhors loose ends.
A rather clever design, don't you think?
Carducci used this to kill the two thieves and Lightman.
And almost you as well, sir.
Thank goodness Mr Pendrick arrived when he did.
Quite impeccable timing on his part. What do you mean?
There are pieces of this puzzle Carducci took to the grave.
Like what? How did he know the exact movements of the painting?
How did he orchestrate the complex theft without detailed inside information?
His hired guns were disguised as caterers.
He had access to the building days in advance.
But consider this.
Once forgeries are delivered and the money is collected,
the original mysteriously reappears, only one man benefits.
Pendrick? He'd have his money and his original, and no-one would suspect him.
You've caught the killer, found the Rembrandt...
And prevented one of the biggest art frauds in history. Excellent point, Doctor.
Isn't that enough for you, Murdoch?
I will miss her.
But after such a dreadful turn of events, I couldn't bear to have the painting in the house any more.
I have persuaded James to donate her to the Louvre.
That's very philanthropic of you.
But you will be needing a replacement, Mrs Pendrick.
Might I suggest your Burt Lightman portrait?
Really? You would part with it?
It would offer a refreshing modern perspective to your collection.
That's very observant of you, Detective.
I accept your offer, but I trust you will come and visit it from time to time?
It would be my pleasure.
Detective Murdoch. Congratulations. Things couldn't have turned out better.
Mr Pendrick. I believe some of the credit goes to you.
I would not be here today were it not for your timely intervention.
Pure luck, I assure you.
Tell me, what brought you to the building last night?
I often go up there to look at the night sky. Really?
What's the point of owning the tallest building in Toronto
if you don't avail yourself of its advantages?
And the gun?
I never venture out at night without a firearm.
Detective, you seem unsettled.
In an odd way, Signore Carducci and I are very similar.
We both dislike loose ends. Loose ends?
With Signore Carducci dead, we'll never be able to ascertain the identity of his employer.
The true mastermind behind this crime.
And what makes you think he wasn't the true mastermind?
It's a theory. For now.
Mrs Pendrick, Mr Pendrick.
I bid you good day.
Good day, Detective Murdoch.
I trust our paths will cross again.
I will look forward to that.