You speak. What does Mr Dove's brother do?
Reid believed him to have been the killer.
The mother's name, was the word he used for dove.
Guluba.
As I understand it, the doctors have passed you fit, Inspector.
I will be a father to you.
There are Westminster police on guard day and night.
The house, entrances, bed chambers of the occupants.
You will live quiet, easy.
Until all that may harm us will be put to rest.
I do not see an animal, Nathaniel.
And what if we left this place?
Robin as well.
Argh!
- Oh! - It ain't right!
No!
Argh!
- Argh! - What did you say?
Stop. Stop. Stop it.
Robin. Robin.
Miss Chudleigh!
Windows to the soul, they say.
You spy the semblance of one?
It is the intracranial pressure.
You have told me this before.
The hurt of it, however, daily more savage.
The pressure is increasing, rapidly.
And?
Given the inefficacy of my treatments, it's...
most likely glioma.
English.
Oh...
tumour.
Perhaps we...
You did mention historic trauma, to the head.
Yeah.
Took a proper stovin' in the ring, all right.
From the very man who used to hold this office.
Rest his chewed up soul.
Back then, one of you sawbones said these eyes had gone.
But Jedediah Shine don't *** so easy.
I see you and I'll see you wrong as he.
Inspector Shine, there is not a doctor in this land
who could diagnose definitively.
Even then...
there lacks a medicine for glioma.
I... can increase the concentration of your morphine.
Measure carefully.
At this concentration,
so much as half a phial could see three men never wake again.
More coca also, I can *** withstand.
One tabloid per dose.
On no account exceed this.
Man with a crutch, may yet walk
- an endless mile. - _
Inspector Shine, I must warn you,
the swelling...
eh, your prognosis...
Your brain is crushing itself against your skull.
And, given the increase in your agonies,
a catastrophe is by no means distant.
You are saying that I, Jedediah Shine,
am on his last rounds.
I begin to consider it a medical miracle you've survived this long.
Ain't no miracles left in this world, Doctor.
- All that a man needs... - _
is something to live for.
_
Sync, corrections & transcription by PetaG - www.addic7ed.com
_
Fresh blooms for you, sir?
_
Uh, what's happened to the fish stall?
There's no Sumners, no fishes. Wh...
Oi, copper.
What's afoot then?
Found him cowering behind the meat wagons.
Robin, what happened, hey?
Mr Thatcher...
Says they was slain.
Me ma... Uncle Caleb...
Says they was ate. Tell 'im boy.
Ju... ate?
Nathaniel... Uncle Caleb's neck...
He looked like an animal.
He...
ate his throat.
About your business now.
I'll take care of the lad.
All right, Sumner. Hey, look at me.
You trust me don't you?
Yeah?
You come with me now.
I'll see you safe.
Come with me.
Come on.
Oi. Look, look, look. That's the Sumner boy there.
So, you saw it? You saw the man Nathaniel?
It's all right, Robin, they're friends.
- Mr Reid, sir... - You tell me Robin, where?
- Where?! You tell me boy! Where! - Whoa, whoa.
Back off, Reid. Can't you tell that boy is shit-scared.
It's all right, son. It's all right.
You get the hell out of here, for Chrissake
Mr Reid, leave us, please.
Here's, d-drink this up, little man.
That's good medicine.
There you go.
Good boy.
What the hell are you wearin'?
Did you get demoted?
- Don't ask. - Jesus Christ!
Here, I hope it is adequate.
Oh, you must be starved, young one.
Gonna fill your belly...
gonna get you cleaned up real good
and then I'm going to see if I got a shirt...
that fits a strong young soldier.
The boy is fed and watered, at least.
I have left him in more capable hands.
His terrors, I should not have shouted at him.
You, Miss Morton, maybe a stranger to fearful children, but I, alas,
ought to have the benefit of experience.
I would not know where to begin, Mr Reid.
It is strange to see the Captain thus.
A man so given to degenerate proclivities and carnal oblivion.
To see him thus, how?
I suppose...
fatherly?
He told us where it happened.
And better than that, where Nathaniel's holed up.
Reid?
Reid, it is broad day light.
- Then, we move fast. - We can't just w...
Have we not waited here long enough for the merest
thread to follow. We know where he lives.
We find him, we get to Dove. We find the bodies, we go to Dove.
You wait here, keep the boy safe.
We go, now!
Reid?
Adam, it's Edmund Reid!
It ain't worth it, friend.
No, Frank. Everyone in the market saw you with him!
What do you mean he ran away.
The boy was as jumpy as a buggered fox, Drum.
More rumpus now with you two pansy flaps?
Frank here, campaigns to try to trade his helmet for a dunce cap.
I do not expect to repeat my questions, Drummond.
I passed by Spitalfields, sir.
All the talk is a pair of fish sellers, usually at market, but missing this day.
And with their boy, see. He turns up full hysterics,
said he seen his ma and uncle killed.
He says the killer, he used his teeth.
- Teeth? - Ripped the neck out. As I heard.
Where this lad now?
Where indeed sir.
Frank had him, and Frank lost him.
The boy was...
He made off, before I could...
Bested by a woe-strapped nipper.
My apologies, Inspector.
I begin to wonder, if even the meagre demands of working this dock
are beyond your pygmy policing.
Inspector, should I wire J Division?
Why would you do that?
The Sumners, the fish sellers, that is, they wasn't Whitechapel.
They lived Hackney way, J Division turf.
They were Whitechapel Market, makes this Whitechapel business.
Yes, sir. I'll fetch us a hansom.
No! Drummond, you'll fetch me a hansom.
Augustus Dove may hold that schoolboy brain
of yours with high regard, but Augustus Dove
does not chief this division.
Ain't none of you in this Molly-house fit to compromise that.
I brought your breakfast.
Eat Nathaniel.
You will not heal.
Gustus...
the pup...
Robin.
Let us hope he ran far, shall we?
And does not stop his running.
But, if he is found...
and if he should speak of me...
say you will not hurt him.
No more, Gustus.
Cannot bear no more.
The pup, he is no more than that.
And even if he spoke of aught...
found the ears of strangers...
who would listen to a child's hysterics?
Clean.
Nothing.
That's the point, Reid. Nobody's place is as goddamn clean.
No dust, no dirt. These walls...
these walls, the plaster's still damp.
It's been scrubbed.
Entire place has been scoured.
By Dove, I have no doubt.
Whoa, Christ.
Sodium hydroxide. It's for cleanin'.
Say, blood and death off your walls.
Look it.
Something was there, a rug.
Two bodies in a rug, huh?
There were wheels here, a cart, hoof tracks,
usually headed in that direction.
Horse hair.
You see how the stems are broke back?
Horse and cart went here, different way, no tracks.
On account that somebody went to the trouble of clearing 'em.
Out in Wyoming, I knew this Sioux Indian,
finest tracker of his tribe.
He could track a man through mountain, desert, swampland,
he could read the land like the palm of his hand.
"Cutting for sign", they called it.
And he taught you?
What, are you kidding? Son of a bitch tried to scalp me, I shot him.
These signs, they point that way.
Kerosene.
All right, so he does his housework,
rolls the bodies into the rug, puts them in the cart,
wheels it down to the water.
He dumps the Sumners in the river.
Burns the cart.
Covers his tracks.
Well, he have weighed the bodies.
Already on it, Reid.
My guess is he probably weighed 'em down
just enough to let the current take them.
All the way to the ocean.
If we can intersect the bodies, if we can recover them,
then we have proof of Nathaniel's murder and Robin as witness.
Reid, if Abel Croker taught his boys one thing,
it's how to dump a body in the river.
In the river Thames, not the River Lea.
The Thames is over 300 feet wide, but the Lea is a tributary.
It dwindles. It meanders.
With a map of it's course gradients
- and tide times... - Reid, shut up!
That's a hansom.
This place just got cleaned.
Be a shame to spray your brains all over it.
Hello, Jedediah.
Just like you, Edmund, have your chump the dirty work.
Morphine.
For you to require this, your pain must be considerable.
But why are you here?
All right, all right. Let us parley, parley. Let us parley.
Answer me.
Heard rumblings that this here may be a murder scene.
Thought you might have heard them likewise.
So, you come in pursuit of me then, and not to police some vicious slaughter?
Hackney killers, Edmund, are not my business.
Whitechapel fugitives, however...
It was him, Jedediah. The murderer who stalked Whitechapel.
He now stalks these marshes.
Our mutual friend, Miss Castello, took to sharing with me your conjecture
that the toothsome villain is said to be Abel Croker, deceased,
is neither Abel Croker, nor deceased.
The brother, she says. The brother of Augustus Dove, she says.
Miss Castello, she proved amenable,
give or take, to sharing her research, Ed.
Research, which I now have in my possession.
Yes, I've seen what you've seen.
The boys, the Jews, the wolves.
Then, you know it's the goddamn truth.
- We've seen that brother. - His name is Nathaniel.
Every killing ascribed to Abel Croker, he performed.
He tore apart Bennet Drake.
Augustus Dove used Croker to protect his brother.
As he now uses you, to prevent me from exposing him.
You were not appointed, Jedediah, for your able policing,
but because you are so easily made marionette,
dancing to your master's fingers.
Augustus Dove will fall.
I will serve justice on him and his brother.
And I only tell you this so that you might stay out of my way.
Understand that my contempt for you is beyond limit,
but my fight is not with you.
Have your cunny-chaser pull his trigger now, Reid.
He will not find another chance.
I ain't of a mind to argue with it.
Pull the trigger, Reid.
I hope you have more of this about you, Jedediah.
It's a long walk back to Whitechapel.
_
How long will he sleep?
I cannot say whether his exhaustion or his terror is more powerful.
Oh...
your way with the boy is so tender.
Motherhood changes you...
as you will learn, I'm sure, Miss Morton.
Years ago...
when the Captain told me he was leaving me and choosing you,
I told him he was choosing his past over his future,
but I was wrong.
I was so extraordinarily wrong.
Because...
you and he grow together, with a love inviolable,
and I... well, I do not.
But there is one thing of which I am certain...
your son will always be, oh, fortunate indeed
to have you as his parents.
I, um... I should check on Robin.
Robin, I thought you might like...
Robin?!
Your visitor, Mr Dove, has traipsed his filth.
My apologies, madam.
Them marshes are sodden.
Then again, Mr Dove, I gather you have a gift for cleanin'.
If you'd be so kind.
Your latest reflections for the Police Gazette, is it?
What is the meaning of this?!
The last I was here,
I asked if you you knew aught of Edmund Reid's hypothesizing...
vis-a-vis the infamous cannibal golem of Whitechapel.
And I told you I did not.
So I recall, but you see, Mr Dove, now I do know Edmund Reid's hypothesizing,
because Edmund Reid told me.
You...
You found Reid? Where is he?!
See, Reid is not currently the matter critical, Mr Dove.
Your brother...
Nathaniel, he is the matter most currently critical.
You're mistaken. I... I have no brother.
There is this day a nipper abroad in Whitechapel,
bawling how his uncle got his throat bit out.
So I come for a look,
and who should I find doing likewise but steady Ed and the American.
And with the luxury of a gun on me, they thought to tell me plenty.
Reid gave proof to all I'd read in Miss Castello's files.
Your mother, Guluba, means "dove", doesn't it?
I will not tolerate the deception of no man, Commissioner,
not even you.
- My brother is my concern, alone. - No.
No, he is mine also,
if he may bait my hook for Edmund Reid.
There is, perhaps, another way.
Reid's daughter, her loyalties have turned against his favour.
Come by this knowledge how?
He gave to her a note, concerning my brother.
She and Inspector Drummond thought to pass it to me.
Mathilda is in contact with her father.
And I'm being informed of this only now.
But you are informed of it nonetheless.
And with your other recent knowledge concerning my brother,
you perhaps grasp the fresh urgency of Reid's apprehension.
Bait the hook.
Well, Mr Dove...
ah, you are as black-hearted a bastard
as ever roamed the lanes of this dread city.
Needs must, Inspector.
When the devil drives.
There is no devil. inspector Shine.
Tell that to the fish seller's boy.
When Reid is done with...
you and I, Commissioner, we shall talk again...
on what price your reeking secrets may be worth to you.
Oh, be assured, sir,
every man of this division will keep their eyes peeled for him.
A Hackney boy from the borough I call my home.
Bearing witness to such atrocity,
running afeared through these cruel streets.
It sits ill with me, Drummond, most ill.
I understand, sir.
Hm, J Division territory this may be,
but you inform me personally should this poor mite be found.
Yeah, of course, Mr Dove.
Of course.
- How could you?! - Jesus Christ, Caitlin.
He must have run, and run fast, because he saw this!
Miss Morton is currently scouring Spitalfields
- for any sight of him. - No.
No, no, no.
He may fear us, but he trusts Thatcher.
The boy will seek him out.
- Whoa, you're going to the police now? - No, Thatcher will see him safe.
There's work to do.
We've need of an Ordnance Survey map and the London Shipping Gazette.
Sign your name. What reason? Just... just make a mark.
You two, you're next!
Leman Street.
- No! You can't. - Mr Thatcher?!
Jesus.
Robin, what are you doing?
- You were to stay. - I was afraid.
Them people you left me with, they're bad.
No, I told you, Robin. They're friends. All right?
You cannot be here, hey?
Leman Street.
On Princelet Street?
Yeah, we will, ah, send a constable right away.
Who's this, then?
Robin, sir.
Robin? Robin Sumner?
I came to see Mr Thatcher.
Well, you're a clever boy, then.
Cleverer than Mr Thatcher here.
I'll wire J Division. They've been looking for him all over.
It's their case now.
Come with me, Robin. Find you a quiet place and a cup of sweet tea.
You're gonna be just fine, son.
Come on.
Sergeant?!
- All right, sorry. Yeah. Sign it! - Sergeant, I'm in need of your...
- assistance. - Right, name?
Dove puts the bodies in the water here,
but for them to meet such a flow,
to navigate clear through the Limehouse cut and into the Thames? I mean...
Now, this stretch here...
that's barely five foot to a mile.
Tide drops, those bodies will wash up
for us to find before they're carried away again.
So anything heavy in the water would most likely be
- washed aground. - Just after this meander.
Goodluck Hope.
11:00 tonight, the tide at its lowest,
after that, the current will wash them away and into the Thames.
Jackson, we can find them.
With the Sumner boy missing, the bodies of his mother and uncle
may be our only incontrovertible evidence of Nathaniel's savagery.
We can bring Dove down.
Jackson, are you with me?
Then, I guess we're doing us some night-fishing.
_
J Division? Here's the lad.
You're gonna go with this policeman now, Robin.
His division are gonna take care of you, all right?
Well, that's one less headache.
You've been a very brave boy, Robin...
but you don't need to be afraid anymore.
Does he, Miss Chudleigh?
You call for me, sir?
I did.
Come here. Sit.
I've just handed the boy over to J Division, Inspector.
Good. Good.
Now, Inspector Drummond, when you observe these posters
plastered 'round the station house and the streets beyond...
what is it you see?
Sir, is that blood?
Let me tell you what I see, a looking glass
that every day reflects the continued inefficacy
of this division to prosecute justice upon its most hunted fugitives.
Now, there are some might say this,
shame on us should be doubled, at least,
given our most recently promoted officer
is sweetheart to the very daughter of the fugitive in chief.
Sir, it... it... Y'know, she...
I will tell you what she is, your Mathilda Reid.
She's on the side of goodness...
willing to turn against her own Pappy out of noble rectitude. And you?
You, Drummond, lack even the decency
to share such with your constabulary brothers.
Now, lad, you'll tell me about Miss Reid's doings
with her outlaw old man.
And you will tell me now.
Now, Drummond!
There... there is a candle, sir,
in the bedroom window.
Eye.
Miss Reid, might I have a word?
- Oh, Mr Shine, I really must be going. - A moment is all, and no more.
Last we spoke, I pondered we were kin on account of us both resurrected.
- Yes, but... - Please, Miss Reid.
I was wrong.
You are life...
but I...
By kin is your father.
We, who imagined we saw off death,
but there was, for us, no true resurrection.
We have a course.
Now we... we're bound to the reeking purgatory of these streets,
more... more cursed than the dead,
who at least know their peace.
For with us, there lingers like... like a whore's perfume
the dream of a life.
Here...
there is a hell of its very own for the dreaming dead.
Mr Shine?
- Somebody help! Help! - No, no, no, no.
Forgive me.
Forgive me, Miss Reid.
My intention was not to...
Dear girl,
your father will find his peace,
I will make sure of it.
Before it is done...
take yourself from this place.
Hear me?
Whitechapel is no quarter for the living.
Good day, Miss Reid.
Good day.
Drum, what are you doing home so early?
I saw Mr Shine on Princelet Street.
He was behaving very strangely.
Tilda, I, ah...
could we sit?
But the longer he's out there, on the run,
he just makes things worse for himself.
Uh, maybe if he turned himself in,
or else we could find and bring him in.
He would have a fair hearing and a chance to present himself.
And, ah...
and all you would need to do...
is light your candle.
- I cannot, Drum. - But Tilda,
when we gave Mr Reid's letter to Mr Dove, I thought...
We done the right thing, see.
Did we, Drum?
- What, Tilda? - I thought it right then, but, uh...
Oh, Tilda.
I would not ask this of you, except I...
Drum, he is my father.
I know it is difficult, but I cannot do this.
I understand, my love.
Forgive me.
The flow should be at its slowest on this side.
The Sumner man will be the heavier of the two.
Body should wash up near this bank.
But she will not, see...
says she cannot.
And I, um...
I would value your advice, is all, Mr Dove.
My advice on questioning an order from your direct superior?
I'm not accusing you of insubordination, Inspector Drummond.
I respect the man unafraid to think for himself.
And you wish to protect your sweetheart from our bleak travails.
I respect that also.
But who protects Whitechapel from the likes of Edmund Reid?
It is us, Drummond.
Reid's apprehension remains the chief concern of H Division.
Whatever policing you must do to that end, you may be sure it is for the good.
And also, above all...
think of your future with Miss Reid, the life you will build for her.
How may that begin when she must live under the shadow of her renegade father?
Reid, over here.
For...
for the boy...
for the boy to be here,
to have washed up thus, ah...
for him to have got to the marshes so fast we can recalculate...
What?
For him to have reached the marshes so fast, we can work out where the body was
- dropped. We can recalculate! - Reid... Reid, Reid!
You don't even see it, do ya?
Look at him.
Look at him!
Goddamn it. Look at him. He's a child.
This is how far he'll go. This is what he does.
My son is in that house right now.
It's over.
- It's over. - No, no, no, no, no!
You stay! You stay! You stay! Stay!
You stay! We have a clue!
We have a fresh clue.
We got nothin', Reid.
Nothin'.
Goddamn you for ever coming back to Whitechapel.
You think I'm gonna let my son, my wife fall under the hooves of your crusade?
Where are you going?
Where?
I can't look at him...
or you.
Jackson.
Jackson, the boy. The boy!
Just throw him back in the water.
Let the ocean take him.
It's coming for all of us.
I will not see your memory washed away, Robin Sumner.
Ah!
Caitlin?!
Matthew, what?
The boy, ah... Caitlin...
Robin, he, ah...
we found him.
It was Dove.
He killed him.
Listen to me.
We're taking Connor and we're getting out of this goddamn hellhole.
- How, Matthew? - I don't care how,
but I'm taking our son and by God, I'll see him safe.
- Are you with me? - Matthew, I...
Are you with me?
I am with you... always.
First light, we're out of here.
We'll get our boy and Reid can go to hell.
Oh, Mathilda.
Oh.
I told Caitlin to get some sleep.
'Cause we're gettin' out...
with Connor.
Look, I know you want Dove. I know you want justice for...
Drake, for Bloom, for...
oh, for all of 'em. But...
I can't help you no more.
I buried him.
You were right,
it is over.
It is over.
I want to give you some advice.
You get out also. And for good.
And you would have me leave my Mathilda here?
She lit her candle
Can you trust her, Reid?
She is my daughter.
And I must say goodbye.
Your advice, Captain, was a conclusion I had already reached, unaided.
We tried.
Didn't we? We...
we can say that, at least.
We did.
We did, Captain.
We tried.
_
That's Connor's room.
Caitlin.
Cate!
Oh!
Chudleigh, right?
Get out of our way.
- Take them now! - Not today, boys.
- All right. - Argh!
Connor?
Gustus!
Augustus will hunt you down and grind you for glue.
You ought to know I ain't above shooting a woman.
Nor am I.
Third floor.
Miss Susan?
Shoot him.
Shoot the son of a bitch, goddamn it!
- Matthew, he has Connor. - Mama!
Nathaniel, I'm here for my son.
Please, please, give him to me.
The pup?
Gustus cares for him now.
I'm pleading with you, Nathaniel.
Give me my son.
He's Gustus' now.
- Miss Susan, I can't... - Your brother is no safe guardian.
He's a killer of boys.
Robin Sumner, Nathaniel, you knew him, did you not?
Robin? He...
Where is he?
Matthew pulled him from the river last night,
where your brother Augustus put him.
No.
No. G...
Gustus promised me he would not harm him.
Oh, that boy's dead.
Washed up like garbage in the mud of Goodluck Hope.
It's your piece of shit brother,
killin' on account of your killin', you goddamn animals.
I never meant for it, never meant for...
Robin, Robin, Robin!
Nathaniel, give me my son.
Mama.
Forgive me, Miss Susan. Forgive me.
He ain't holding Connor now. Step aside, Caitlin.
Please.
Just end... end... end me.
- Argh! - Matthew.
Matthew, we have Connor.
Please. End me. I beg you, please.
Nah, we're leaving. Let's go.
_
Such food for thought, Mr Dove.
Proud words, proud and noble.
This morning, then...
you will have him?
I will. He will bow to me.
Edmund Reid will kneel.
I will wait upon it, Inspector.
Your work has been exemplary.
Lady Justice, Mr Dove,
holds us both close to her righteous tit, does she not?
_
Tilda?
No.
Mr Reid?!
You cannot run no more.
There're 20 constables, both ends of this alley.
Will you come peaceful with me?
Mathilda?
It's better you come quiet, sir.
Drummond, I, ah...
will you tell her I understand...
and that I love her?
To remember that of me, if nought else.
"By right of that,
"which all of us who police this great city hold dearest to our hearts,
- "I write of justice. - _
"We, all of us, stand today on the cusp of a glorious new age.
"A locomotive carving steadfast and sure
"towards our fabulous future,
"the future we have dared to dream.
"And what a future it shall be.
"The brave and glittering century which awaits us fills me only with hope.
"Hope that with ever more sophisticated policing,
"we may, in the coming decades, eradicate crime altogether."
Nought so kind as kin, is there?
Good work, Inspector Drummond.
You are caught, Edmund.
You were out-coppered.
Will you kneel to me as my prisoner?
He will not kneel!
Burn in hell!
The savage and inhuman outlaw still thinks himself a man of stature.
Well now...
them shackles are unbecoming for a man of stature.
Take 'em off.
I said, take 'em off.
No, Jedediah.
At long last, Edmund Reid must fight his own cowardly corner.
I will not fight you.
Then this, brother, will sting something fierce.
Steady Ed ain't so steady now.
Ugh!
- Steady Ed. - And another one, harder.
Fight, Edmund.
These men will not intervene.
Go on, Mr Reid.
Get him, Mr Reid, we believe in ya.
"We may come to know the 20th century as the great era of peace."
Well now, let us parley.
- "And at last, - Argh!
"know an age of true harmony between men.
Ooh!
I will end you!
Oh, yeah?
Father!
Argh!
Ugh!
No!
Please, Mr Shine,
he is my father.
Get her away from here.
- No. - Get her away from here.
Tilda!
Mathilda,
we had to catch him.
I will never forgive you!
Oh.
Behold him!
Look upon your Edmund Reid!
Look upon him!
He is fallen.
See him...
kneel, now, before the justice of Jedediah Shine.
You and I, Edmund...
at last you will know it,
what it means to have all you are snatched from you,
to be a half-man in a half-life
with nought in your black heart
but the hate, hate.
I have dreamed of this.
Put him in irons.
I've finished.
Finished.
Oh.
No more.
No more. No more.
No more!
I am... I am master.
Ain't no man
- brings down Jedediah Shine - _
'cept Jedediah Shine.
I'm done with dreaming.
Sync, corrections & transcription by PetaG - www.addic7ed.com