You forget your hopes, sir, because this Whitechapel is coming from you.
It will take the purest of them,
and it will shatter it into shards of pure poison.
Oh, I did it for you, Tilda.
I still only want for you and I to be able to walk clean of this mess.
And now you're happy to let me hang along side you
when I bust my arse in here to free ya.
Yes.
On that matter, it is my own strategy.
And that strategy being what?
Francis Thatcher is gone to exhume the body of Robin Sumner.
Oh!
All who kill must be punished.
My name is Caitlin Swift and I wish to surrender myself to the police.
And I, too, wish to surrender myself to the police.
For what crime?
Murder.
Whose?
Leon Ratovski.
and Mr Drake.
I do not know you, sir.
Who is this boy?
Gustus.
You know.
Take control of your station house, Inspector!
Your voice makes me want to shit!
_
What are you doin' on the other side? *
That's right, Constable.
All Whitechapel stands agog,
much like Scotland Yard sends a battalion to free their chief.
Be calm, lad.
You be calm.
But I seen 'im.
I seen Gustus kill him.
He witnessed Sergeant Thatcher shot, Mr Drummond. I believe him.
And who is he that we should give his word credence?
Who are you and all, Miss Hart?
In!
You're gonna leave her be, Drummond.
Then you shoot me now, Captain.
Cause this is either done by the law or it is not.
You let him do his job, Captain, and he shall let you do yours.
It is only you can make this case.
That was my Uncle Bennet's chair.
And before it was his, it was my father's
Inspector Drummond,
are you returned to your authority?
Have you prevailed?
Leave us.
Now, you wish to make your case, you go on then, Tilda.
The man in the cells beneath, he who says he is your brother,
I am going to interview him.
Drummond.
I am going to make written record of it.
You will release me, Inspector.
Now!
Do you know what you are tearing down here?
The two of you, what of your life together,
your future?
A murdered child on a mortuary slab,
the entropy of the universe extended to a maximum, Mr Dove.
Every stroke of this blade to this boy's body, I'm imagining it done to you, sir.
I'm hearin' your screams.
I do not know how... how long we sailed, but...
I do remember the stench, miss...
remember the fear.
Go on, sir.
I do not know how my brother found Rabbi Leon,
but he brung him from Paris in the hope he might...
know how best to quiet my temper, sir.
But that counsel, it did not soothe me.
It only roused my hunger.
I had to feed it.
'Cause you see, miss, he had shown me myself,
my childhood self.
I saw the forest,
and the ease and grace with... with which the wolves might move through it,
whilst we simply trudged.
So heavy and slow.
And as the rabbi spoke of the morning they found her,
I did not think on the sight of my mother,
no,
of my mother's body and blood...
I thought only on that...
power...
the pure purpose of their need...
and how that need might be met.
There's no froth in the waterlogging of the lungs.
There are, however, tiny haemorrhages to the lining thereof.
The burst capillaries beneath the eyelids,
the cause of death was suffocation.
See, contusions about the neck and face, similarly to his fists.
We may therefore presume his death a violent one.
Within the lining of the respiratory tract
there are trace elements, inhaled at the point of death and adhered within.
So we have...
a wool fibre.
Wool's an alpaca blend, charcoal grey in colour.
Most likely from the person who throttled 'im.
The suspect is frequently seen sporting such an overcoat, Inspector, correct?
Grey alpaca.
Am I the only man in London with a woollen coat? No, I am not.
You have no witness, no physical evidence.
You have no fingerprints, Mr Reid.
You must surely see it, Drum?
These men, these criminal murdering men,
wish to tar me with a black pitch of their own hearts.
Mr Reid, Captain, please.
The boy must be found on the man, or the man on the boy.
Augustus enabled me.
They found a man...
a madman, known to the police as such,
for his attack on... on another rabbi, see?
And so, that was Mr Isaac Bloom?
Yes.
And I heard them say how they would take my acts...
and they would hand them to him.
Captain, whatever it is you hunt for, please find it.
He will find nothing, because there is nothing to find,
save the wreckage of your life along with theirs.
Why, sir, you are flush.
Maybe...
You feelin' all right?
I have the flu, I'm fine.
You feeling quite well, sir?
Argh!
There's infection within.
A swollen tongue, the throat red with infection.
An infection...
he might have set loose on any soul with whom he came into contact,
particularly one which was trying to kill 'im.
Because he would have fought.
He would have spat and screamed.
Would have clutched and clawed for the breathin' of air.
And he would sprayed that infection all over the man
whose arms were now choking the ten little years of life from 'im.
Does a fever rise in you, sir?
Is there a chill through your bones like a nameless haunting?
Well, I have the name for it.
Oh, you brave, clever little boy, Robin Sumner
The gift you bring with you.
_
And, sir, will you confirm your spoken confession
that you murdered Inspector Bennett Drake?
Yes, miss.
And Assistant Commissioner Dove had full knowledge of this?
Augustus knew it.
Augustus knew it all.
Then, um...
it was Augustus killed Abel?
Abel Croker wished to take my life.
But Augustus Dove, he...
he took his instead.
Gustus saved me.
Gustus always saved me.
Reid, you catch scarlet fever as a boy?
- I did. - So did I. Caitlin too.
Now, what that means is that once caught, we cannot catch it again.
Now Miss Morton, I believe has not suffered it before,
because she suffers it now.
And where else might she have contracted it,
but from a sickly child who's taking refuge with her?
It's like a string of purple pearls, streptococcus pyogenes.
Scarlet fever.
_
Sync & corrections by PetaG for www.addic7ed.com
_
Sir, Commissioner Bradford.
Well, Fred, what do you say?
It is a cat meat soup, Teddy.
You should know, your own presence here,
a retired civilian gone rogue, it's unconscionable.
But under current circumstances...
there is one more intervention you might perform for us.
Reid.
There will be an inquiry. Internal.
But we, here, have decided what Edmund Reid's fate shall be.
The others, your man, Dove?
Imagine the world's joy at our disgrace, Fred. No.
Sudden illness, lengthy convalescence,
disappearance from public life.
Get him out.
Dartmoor Prison will receive a new inmate however...
the victim of a clerical blunder.
His paperwork lost, a man likewise.
Gustus.
Think how far we came, brother, how very far.
- Gustus, w... where do you go? - Shh...
we must be brave.
I knew chaos and horror a good long time before I came to Whitechapel, Mr Reid.
I'm to bring you out as well, sir.
Come on.
Mind your step. Go on.
It trouble you, lad, if I take your prisoner for a walk?
Augustus Dove is to be buried deep and forgot.
Our shame alongside.
And as to the reason for our stroll?
How else is the pit to be lined, Fred?
The brother, that beast, he is to be choked, and in short order.
The woman, Hart, similarly.
What else, Edmund, clemency?
The Captain?
Send him home, where he belongs.
Besides, it is not the fate of that evil pair brings me to you now,
but your own.
And that too is decided, I imagine.
A little further yet.
_
That is right, my friend.
Think of what you and I once found
in a tenement room off that courtyard beyond.
_
the cut and strewn remains of the Ripper's last victim.
10 years ago, Edmund, 10 years.
That barbarism then, that which these Dove brothers have only now enacted.
They were forged from the same furnace,
a furnace which requires permanent vigilance, Edmund,
a watchman, set for the night when that fire
finds another crack in the world and sets its creatures free once more.
Bennet Drake was a fine man, but he...
that pale-faced Drummond,
they do no see, not in the way you see.
You're needed here, Mr Reid.
My crimes?
Wish to face them, do you?
They are true. I would own them.
I am to tell you that such an owning will not find favour.
And to extend Commissioner Bradford's wish...
an invitation for Edmund Reid to resume his command at Lehman Street.
That is some bold denial to mount.
It is a public redemption of a good man wronged.
If I refuse?
Well, then your American will not find himself so easily forgot,
in point of fact.
His many misdemeanours will be pursued with full rigour
and he will dangle, Edmund.
Have the man brought out, in irons.
Susan.
Where do they take me?
Wait, wait. Please, please, please. Please, wait. Oh!
No, don't! Stop! Don't! Stop! Leave him!
No, please! Where do you take him?!
I'm with you, darlin'.
I'm coming too.
Come with me, Miss Hart, will you?
Wait, Drummond, w... what about me?
What about me, God damn it? What a... what about me? Take me.
You're a prisoner, Mr Reid.
Reid?
What the hell?
Where's he takin' her?
Reid?
Reid, God damn it, what?
Your personal effects, Captain Jackson.
You're releasin' me?
Caitlin?!
Caitlin.
Sorry sons of bitches!
- Let him go! Let him go! - Let me go! Let me go!
- Let him go! - God damn it!
Sorry.
For him?
You did this for him?
I did it before. I'll do it again. I'll save ya.
No.
No, you will not.
You are a father now.
What kind of example would that be for our son?
No. What kind would I be if I let you die?
You must.
You see....
because he must have one of us to care for him.
And it seems that one will be you.
The sacrifice was meant to be mine...
mine!
For him, but you... y...
What are we doin'?
Why do we care for people?
We'd all just be better off without 'em.
No, no, no, no, no.
That is an unsavoury sentiment and it is beneath you.
You picked a fine time to play nice.
It was me and you.
You and me.
And ever will be.
Because of our boy.
We are in him.
One.
So, you go and you raise him good. Raise him right.
I'll think of how we were made, and I'll do the reverse.
I love you.
I won't ever stop.
Please...
Mr Drummond, take me away.
But Samuel and I lived here together before
and no one once said a word to us.
That does not mean that words were not said.
We left the house together.
Walked arm in arm together, no one spat at us in the street.
I am pleased for that, Mathilda, and I am glad too
that someone was watching over you whilst I was gone.
Drum was more than just my bodyguard, Father.
That is what I'm trying to say to you.
- Do you believe he has made me impure? - No, Mathilda.
- You know me better than that. - Then why will you not allow it?
What are we to do? Live here together, the three of us?
- No, that is not what I asked. - Then it must be done right!
I am not...
I am not as modern as all that, Tilda.
You are early.
- Do I chase you from the house? - No, you do not, Mathilda.
I, uh, I am to Newgate.
It is today?
It is today.
That's some deal you have yourself.
Ain't no tellin' what we went through in pursuit of these.
Thank you, sir.
10 percent of the sale price, your back rent.
- That's not necessary. - Don't even try it, Hermione.
Bye, you little yahoo.
Come on, Connor. Just leave her be now.
What will you tell him?
That she loved him...
that she put others before herself,
and that was a...
sacrifice.
- Oh, Mimi, I... - No...
please.
_
Walk with you?
Is there a law that says you can't?
Well, then.
Well, goodbye, Master Judge.
Shake the man's hand, Connor.
I'll be seein' you, Reid.
Captain.
Are you goin' there now?
I am.
Ah...
tell her, um...
- ah... tell her, um... - What?
Nah, never mind.
It don't matter.
_
- Nathaniel. - Miss Susan.
Mr Theakston, please. Only for a moment.
What can we do?
Do not let them touch.
We are to go together then.
- One after the other. - Mm-hmm.
They've found a priest who speaks my mother's tongue.
He says if... if I'm repentant, I shall be spared hell.
But why should I be spared it just for the sayin' of some words?
But you feel the regret.
Nothing but.
Then think of the moments of peace that you knew.
I do.
Her name was Prudence.
They send you no priest?
I'm not allowed one.
In case he's sent to break me free again.
Miss Susan, they must be allowed to proceed.
Perhaps I shall speak with this priest after all,
just for you, Miss Susan.
Forgive her, I shall say,
and let her see her Connor once more.
I should be grateful.
Um, um, I'm coming after you, Nathaniel.
I shall be following you on, calling your name,
and whatever it is that waits,
we will go there together.
Veni Creator Spiritus,
mentes tuorum visita,
imple superna gratia
quae tu creasti pectora.
Qui diceris Paraclitus
altissimi donum Dei
fons vivus, ignis, caritas, et spiritalis unctio.
You see there?
High above all. That's Christ Church, Spitalfields.
When your...
when your mother and I first came here,
we had a room above a bakery in the building just beside
and the morning light would pass across the spire
and it's shadow would fall through a picture window,
all across us as we lay in our bed, like a sun dial,
instructing that we raise ourselves
and go out into the world.
Mr Reid! Mr Reid, sir!
Quick, sir, raise yourself!
Stop your hammering, Sergeant. I'm here.
Mr Reid, you must come, sir.
There is another.
_
Her name was Mary Jane Kelly.
Edmund, I want to unmake the world.
This Joe, don't forget he rips, he kills!
He rips, rips, rips!
Drum?
Drum?! The toasts.
My Mathilda,
the girl born to me twice.
- This is the last, I believe. - Oh, thank you, sir.
There's no need to sir me. Not any longer.
So, you really couldn't have waited another few weeks.
Samuel doesn't want the child born here, Father.
Of course.
- Well, you travel carefully. - Father, please.
It is The Great Weston to Cheltenham Spa,
- not a steam turbine to the Congo. - I know, Mathilda. But, ah...
- Bad things happen everywhere, I know. - You are my daughter and I worry.
Don't.
Remember the conviction that you held, that I was alive.
Yes, of course.
Then surely it is not such a struggle to hold the simpler belief that I am well.
- Mr Reid. - Samuel.
Right.
- You will visit of course. - No, Drum. He won't come.
He won't ever.
He cannot.
_
Sergeant.
Sir.
He is within?
He is, Mr Abberline.
Nothing?
A witness, of sorts.
Description?
Five foot, six inches. Fair. Curled moustache. 34 years of age...
about.
Well, I shall add it to the catalogue,
alongside William Smith,
who saw Elizabeth Stride with a man of 28 years of age,
hidden beneath the deerstalker. Or...
Israel Schwartz, ah...
who says the man she was with was dark and 30.
Or Joseph Lawende who saw Catherine Eddowes,
who says also 30, but fair and dressed in the manner of a seaman.
These are not clues, Fred.
It is not yarn leading us to the dark heart of this place. They are...
they are half-glimpsed imaginings,
tangle of shadows,
and you and I floundering at them in the ever vainer hope that...
we might corral them to...
into meaning, when we will not!
We will not.
I said...
I almost begged it of you when you lost her,
forgive me,
when your Mathilda went down on that boat...
but I say it again,
tend to your wife, take the leave, you are due it.
- I prefer to work. - Then work, Edmund! Fight!
Do you not wish to find him, catch him, know him?
- Win? - Of course!
I merely say, that we cannot.
We lack the wherewithal.
No, Mr Reid. Go home!
Ah, here, Mr Reid.
- Better let's get you home. - Oh, no.
- Sergeant, Sergeant, Sergeant, - Home.
Sergeant.
Hm? My girl is gone. My wife will barely look me in the eye
without wish to spit in it and curse me for the loss of her, so...
no.
- Come, sir. - No, damn you!
Damn your care. Damn your endless fawning!
Are you a dog?! Are you?!
- I am not, Inspector. - Then stop following me!
It shan't bring you any good.
That's it, I got it.
- Right, more to... more to me - Yes.
Right.
- How is that, sir? - Afternoon, Inspector.
Six months, they're gone.
He is now a teacher.
She, ah...
she writes a novel, she says,
and the child prospers.
You been to see her, the child?
Ah, no, not yet, no.
Your granddaughter, Edmund.
Soon, however.
I shall, ah, take some holiday.
How's the sea?
Flat, grey, mirthless.
And so, your visit?
This is the death certificate
- of a woman named Mary Spinks. - _
Her named husband, see, is George Chapman,
- only that is not his true name. - _
He was living with Miss Spinks, bigamously.
They run the Prince of Wales, on Bartholomew Square, together.
Sorry, Fred, but...
George Chapman only became so in 1895.
Before that however, he was called Seweryn Klosowski.
The Seweryn Klosowski who was once a suspect of ours in the Ripper murders.
But he has gone to America.
Not since 1892, he has not.
He has returned to this country.
It is not solely the tending of your roses that fills your days,
It is not.
_
Ah. Confidential autopsy report.
I will roll over and die the day I cannot bribe a hospital porter.
His wife, he beats her, ceaselessly. You know.
He's a brute, I'm sure.
And more than that,
Seweryn Klosowski, 1885,
he finishes his surgical studies at the Praga Hospital in Warsaw.
June, '87, he's in London as a barber, a position in a shop
on the corner of Whitechapel High Street
- and George Yard. - Yes, the skills and the knives, Fred.
- I do not forget. - George Yard, where Martha Tabram
was killed in August, '88.
I never credited Miss Tabram was his.
Oh, did you not?
And the world must kowtow to Ed Reid's theories, must it?
Not mine, no.
Her killer was right-handed. Ripper uses left.
You know that, Fred, you know that, and you sit here now,
in the belief that I might recommence those same investigations.
- The file remains open, Inspect... - And what?!
A man we once identified as a suspect has a wife who dies of consumption
and you are roused from your retirement
to berate me that I do not set myself and my station house to his capture?
Read the autopsy, Inspector!
Consumption would present itself as a hardening rash on the arms and legs.
What she had were pustulous swellings around the eyes and mouth.
Now, I am not your American surgeon, but I know the symptoms
- of antimony poisoning when... - Fred! Fred.
Even if it were true and proved, it is still only a poisoning,
and the man that we hunted eviscerated his victims.
He ripped the flesh and the organs from their bodies.
Nevertheless, it is murder, by a man we know capable of that evisceration,
who was proximate to the acts, who even now,
is abroad in this town, acting out his hatred of women upon their bodies.
Means, opportunity, motive.
Will you bring him in?
No, I will not.
For why?
Because it is a fancy.
It's a dark daydream in the mind of a retired police officer,
who would do better to return to his roses and his wife.
- It is a case, Edmund. - No, it is a ghost.
And a dead one at that.
Do not think you've heard the last of this.
Out of my way, you men, move!
_
- Good evening, Inspector. - A very good evening to you, Miss Mimi.
- Ah. - The dramatic life, Mr Reid.
Ah, it's... it's wonderful.
Remarkable.
Although, it is not quite the place you once knew as home.
Ponte Franz. *
My friends, my friends.
If I could only tell you not...
_
Beg me... beg me for ***. Big deals. *
_
- No! I didn't touch ya. - You can't avoid me like that. *
Mr Reid, sir?
Mr Reid?
Mr Reid, sir.
Bennet.
Come.
Let's get you out of here.
How did you find me?
Ugh! I followed you, didn't I?
- Come on, sir. - Ah!
Hey, slob!
You gonna pay for that?
Oh, that's right, Gladys. Come on, take another step.
Jesus, you ain't winning any beauty pageants any time soon, are ya?
Americans...
all bull, no dog.
Had 'im right where I led 'im.
_
Hello?
_
- You have it. - I do. At last.
_
Thank you.
_
"Sir, I write as regards my execution of the will
"of the late Matthew Judge,
"in which you are mentioned as beneficiary.
- "His assets were limited. - _
- "But the enclosed was to be forwarded - _
"to you at the police station in Whitechapel, London.
"It may be of some comfort for you to know that
"whatever the circumstances of Mr Judge's past,
"his son, Connor Judge, has now become the ward of this office here.
"We are also the executors, under grant of probate,
"which has recently seen Master Judge named
"named sole heir to those assets, held by us, of his grandfather,
"Mr Theodore Patrick Swift."
_
He and the boy had been fishing,
and were on their way home when the girls' mother came calling for help.
Her two daughters dragged into the current and downstream.
The Captain swum out, brought one child to shore before returning to the other.
She too was saved.
_
But, in so doing, the cold, so they say,
the river, icy with the new Spring's thaw,
his heart gave out.
_
Thank you.
_
- Help you? - Pale ale.
Do you know an Elizabeth Taylor?
- Who asks? - Police.
_
H Division.
How long before it begins?
- The inquest? - Yes.
Two hours, sir.
- Uh! - Yeah?
Ugh!
Good day to you, Mr Reid.
The coroner's inquiry into the death of Mary Jane Kelly
will now come to order.
I live at number five Miller's Court.
It's the last house on the left-hand side of the court.
I'm a widow,
and I get my living on the streets.
She said...
"Good night, I'm gonna have a song."
I remained for a quarter of an hour in my room and went out.
Mary was still singing at 1:00 when I returned.
I remained for a minute in the room just to warm my hands because it was cold
and went out again.
She was singing still.
♪ Scenes of my childhood arise before my gaze ♪
♪ Bringing recollections of bygone happy days ♪
♪ While life does remain in memoriam, I'll retain ♪
♪ This small violet I plucked from mother's grave ♪
Mr Reid.
What am I to say to them, Bennet?
Say?
I'm expected to stand there and explain a thing,
and yet I cannot find the explanation.
Because this man's acts are beyond such.
Sir, I do not say they are not dreadful,
they are that and more besides, but yourself, Mr Abberline, these...
newspapermen, and counsellors, screaming their horror to the skies,
it is as though they imagine some fantastical creature about his work.
My feeling, Mr Reid, if you will allow it...
You speak, Bennet.
This here, Miss Kelly, what was done to her,
it is down to you to name it,
so this killer's acts are not dreamt of as the stuff of fancy,
but known as the cruelty of men.
That is you, sir.
The whole of the surface of the abdomen and thighs was removed
and the abdominal cavity emptied of its viscera.
This was found in various parts.
The uterus and kidneys, under the head,
the liver, between her feet,
the intestines, by the right side,
and the spleen, by the left side of the body.
The pericardium was open below, and the heart was absent.
It is concluded that the mutilation
was inflicted by a person favouring their left hand.
The bed clothing at the right corner was
saturated with blood
and on the floor beneath was another pool of blood
covering about two feet square.
- _ - Police.
H Division.
My wife is unwell.
Has asked not to be disturbed.
Are you much troubled in this house, Mr Chapman?
Well, none of us can be too careful, Inspector... Reid.
What did you say you wished to ask her?
I hadn't yet.
Well caught.
Right hand.
Lost property, umbrella. She registered it with us.
And?
I'm sad to say, it hasn't been found.
You'll pass the message on, I'm sure.
Last day of the century!
- _ - Get your *** here.
- _ - Last day of the century!
_
I left word.
I was unsure whether we...
well, it is a special, um, occasion, and I...
would understand that were we not to dine together as normal.
Mr Reid, stop.
I shan't be here tonight.
I have to go to a ball, in Richmond.
There is a man who wishes to marry me. It's his ball.
There will be peacocks and stags wandering across parkland, and...
ah, the thought of it makes me think of nothing more
than walking down Shadwell Basin with rocks in my pockets
and simply stepping off.
But, he's quite old and... and um, likely to die, and I...
I am minded to encourage his attentions
because I'm frightened...
that...
if I'm still in Whitechapel at midnight,
I will be here for another hundred years.
You know I'm very fond of you, dear, dear Edmund.
I'd forever be seeing the Captain's smile,
and that shrug.
Smelling his disgusting whiskey breath.
And I refuse... I refuse...
to be haunted by him.
Do you see?
There shall be no one left but myself.
I know.
I think, perhaps, that is your gift to us.
It's very noble of you.
_
♪ Scenes of my childhood arise before my gaze ♪
♪ Bringing recollections ♪
♪ Of bygone happy days ♪
♪ When down in the meadow ♪
♪ In childhood I would roam ♪
♪ No one's left to cheer me now within that good old home ♪
- No, no, no! - Shh.
You cannot! This is her song! That is her song! Stop this!
- Stop! Stop this! This is her song! - ♪ Sister and brother now lay... ♪
- Mr Reid! - ♪ Beneath the clay ♪
- Come! - You can't...
- ♪ But while life does remain ♪ - You cannot.
It cannot be allowed. Stop this, damn it.
- Why? - Quiet, sir.
♪ This small violet I plucked from... ♪
- Do you not know any respect?! - ♪ From Mother's grave ♪
Or is it that you do not know at all that it's her song?
It is the song that Mary Jane Kelly was heard to sing
- the night the Ripper killed her?! - Mr Reid!
Is that not the reason why it is sung?
Please, sir.
Perhaps it is time you went home.
Yes, of course.
Um, ah...
I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
I'm sorry.
_
♪ Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do ♪
♪ I'm half crazy ♪
♪ All for the love of... ♪
- Uh, sir, Inspector Reid. - As you were.
As you were.
All right we are, then!
♪ Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do ♪
♪ I'm half crazy... ♪
_
Sync & corrections by PetaG for www.addic7ed.com