What Use Our Work Ripper Street

-A streetwalker, Sir, found ripped.

-SHE SCREAMS

This programme contains some scenes

which some viewers may find upsetting.

This man once called me a friend.

And then, amongst others,

you killed his brother.

Well, you know, he was never one to hold a grudge.

Stop!

Who is it tells me?

Police!

If I decide to finish with that life?

Then, you must be brave, Rose,

and look for another.

Always were a faker.

PEOPLE SCREAM

This man's rooms, now!

Another tart's been ripped

and I've a snitch sends me to you!

Take him!

The boy was crippled,

then put into the water to drown.

MURMURING

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

All right, shut up, you evil drunks.

Shut it!

-HE SINGS:

-# As I was a-walking By St James' Hospital

# Early the morning Though warm was the day

# When who should I see But one of my comrades

# All wrapped up in flannel And cold as the clay

ALL: # Then beat the drum lowly

# And play your pipe slowly

# And sound the dead march As you carry me along

# And fire your bundooks Right over my coffin

# For I'm a young trooper Cut down in my prime

-HE SINGS:

-# 'The bugles were playing His mates were a-praying

# 'The chaplain was kneeling Down by his bed

# 'His poor head was aching His poor heart was breaking

# 'This poor young trooper Cut down in his prime

ALL: # 'Then beat the drum lowly And play your pipe slowly

# 'And sound the dead march As you carry me along

# And fire your bundooks Right over my coffin

# For I'm a young trooper Cut down in my prime. #

BOLTS OPEN

Reid.

-Dr Bagster-Phillips done his work?

-He has, Sir.

Inspector Abberline was there.

Your dead room was requisitioned for him.

Another streetwalker, murdered, I shall say,

at the hands of your Captain Jackson.

And that is your surgeon's opinion?

He goes to prepare his report.

But is convinced, nonetheless,

that she is Ripper.

Throat-cut commencing left, terminating right.

Abrasions on the spine.

Access to the pelvic organs secured with one incision -

ribcage to pubis.

As before.

Parts of the bladder taken and the womb also.

That organ recovered at Captain Jackson's lodgings on Tenter Street.

And what is it led you to search there?

The same communication which reported this poor creature's whereabouts?

It is sufficient, Inspector,

to draw this case to a close and name him.

Do you think, Fred,

that hanging my American will return your sleep to you?

Obsessions are addictions.

Which may not be defeated by actions in the physical world,

but by a change of temper in the mind.

Come on, Reid, we both know what gives here.

Fred Abberline is...

Ah, he's fixated, I grant you. But he's honest.

Led to your innocence, he'll have you freed.

-And it's you that pilots him there, is it?

-I hope to!

No. You really want to stop this?

-You want to save my neck from a stretching?

-Of course I do.

Then, you return to me my pistol, you forget those keys of yours.

And you take a walk.

And have this fantasy given extra credence?

Have vigilante patrols scouring the streets

looking for your head to break? No.

No. You, bide your time and you trust in me.

Sergeant Artherton, do you recall the cigarette seller?

Joseph Lawende.

Er...witness at the Eddowes inquiry?

Saw who ever she was with that night.

Goes by the name of Lavender now, Sir.

-Have him rousted and brought to me.

-Sir.

KNOCKING ON DOOR

SHE CLEARS HER THROAT

Come in.

Er...Rose, you have a visitor.

'I never expected to find you here, in Mrs Reid's shelter.

'When we are now'

quite recovered at Tenter Street.

Our gentlemen help us back to our feet.

All is as ever was.

Except, of course, the continued absence of Captain Jackson,

beneath the key of Mrs Reid here's husband.

And what will become of him, Miss Susan?

Mr Abberline makes his case.

They will call him Ripper.

And hang him.

Which is why I would have you back with me, Rose.

A room of your very own.

A key with which you can come and go as you please.

Rose, you are not imprisoned here.

I know, Mrs Reid.

But, Miss Hart, I cannot permit you to come here

if you do so to procure.

Rose, this woman would make a penniless drudge of you.

I would not.

I give her a home,

somewhere from which she may choose what to make of herself.

Rose?

Is it your wish that you remain here a while longer yet?

It is, Mrs Reid.

Miss Susan, you took me from the streets and gave me a home.

But I am set now on improving my circumstances further still.

And how will you do that, girl?

I would not hex myself by saying yet.

But I do hope to tell you all, very soon.

SHE SIGHS

Mr Lavender, I'm most grateful for your visit.

Am I to believe there was choice in the matter?

What does that man do here!?

He helps us.

And may confirm your convictions, Chief Inspector,

that Jackson is Ripper.

Your office, now!

Do you not consider witness identification a key constituent?

That man, an eccentric at best, a loon at worst,

had full clap of the man with Catherine Eddowes

and still could not describe him to us!

But now, we have something that we lacked then -

we have a suspect in custody for him to make comparison.

Or are you afraid of what he might say?

Follow us, Mr Lavender.

Mr Lavender, it is a year since, I know.

But there is a man beyond we wish you to study.

Please, Sir. Step forward.

Closer.

Look at him!

Well?

No, I cannot say.

It is what I have tried to tell you.

Yes, that night...

..I saw him.

But I saw nothing in him!

Where his face should be...

..only darkness.

It's The Ripper.

HE SIGHS

He is dybbuk.

HE SIGHS

You chase him...

HE CHUCKLES

..you are fools.

Whatever peace you have known,

you will know it no longer.

Only calamity...

..and turmoil.

Evil on your shoulder.

This all does nothing, Edmund.

Come on.

Your Ripper is not for finding.

Only for hunting!

Well, that went well.

Thank you.

Hobbs' wife.

Come to collect his personals.

Hobbs was married!?

I had no...I had no idea.

No, Sir.

Oh, Sergeant.

I'd hear your thoughts on what we might next do for Captain Jackson?

I was set on an afternoon in The Bear, Sir.

I am owed time, as you know.

Sergeant Drake!

You explain yourself.

If you work to free Captain Jackson,

or whatever name it is we should now call him by,

I'm sorry, but you must do so alone.

You honestly think him guilty of this woman's killing?

The others also? That we at last have our man?

Mr Reid, I care not.

All I know is, the man who made that woman widow, Frank Goodnight,

he came to this town in search of our American.

Your association with Captain Jackson...

it has done us little but ill,

in my humble opinion.

Look at these last months, Bennet. We've done some good with his help, have we not?

You tell that to Dick Hobbs.

See if you can rouse agreement from him.

Miss Erskin.

I am sorry if I am late, Mr Trumper.

I, I missed my omnibus at Bethnal Green and had to wait...

Not at all, it's wonderful to see you again.

You did have me worried, however...

-..that you might have changed your mind.

-Oh, no, Sir.

I, I've been greatly looking forward to meeting with you once more.

Shall we take a walk?

'When I saw the Estancia for the first time,'

two day's ride from Buenos Aries, it is magnificent.

It's 50,000 acres, 70,000 head of cattle.

But there have been sacrifices.

Ten hard years of labour and...

Well...

..I am a man who wishes for a family.

For a wife.

I would find that wife here rather than in the Argentine.

To think that we were introduced through the pages of a newspaper...

Well, it is a wonder.

Miss Erskine.

Without wishing to seem over-forward,

but do you imagine that such a life might suit you?

Mr Trumper, I...

..I know nothing of the world except for this patch of sky right here.

But I would change that.

Do you think that you might begin to call me...Victor?

I'm Rose.

Rose.

HE CHUCKLES

As we agreed, I've brought us a picnic.

HE CHUCKLES

SHE CHUCKLES

HE CHUCKLES

SHE LAUGHS

Miss Rose? Are you unwell?

I feel I, I might...

Oh, please! Someone?

Call a carriage!

Can you hear me?

Cheers, Neville.

HE PANTS

This one?

He, er...he threw his neighbour's son

off the roof of Christ Church Spitalfield.

The company I keep these days, Reid.

Sergeant Drake.

Miss Susan.

Rose is no longer with us.

Have you not heard?

Oh, I heard all right. I er...

It is the reason I come.

Is it true, Sergeant, you were sweet on Rose?

But that she let you down?

That makes her a fool

and more besides.

There's not a girl here

who doesn't think you are the finest of men.

Miss Bella...

Sergeant?

..would you keep a secret for me?

Till my death.

If we just sat here for a while,

in this chair, you and I.

And perhaps I might sleep for a moment or so.

If we did that...

..would you tell no-one what passed?

I er...I do not ask you to lie,

simply to say nothing if questioned.

House broken up on Truman.

Street theft, Commercial Street.

Street theft, Aldgate Corner.

Three counts of public indecency down at Petticoat.

Two men cutlassed at closing time at the Shipwrights. One now dead.

Two missing persons, both teenage girls.

One on Sidney, the other, Cheshire.

Are you finished, Artherton?

That is today's roll, Sir. Yes.

Mrs Reid?

-ALL:

-Morning, Madam.

Come in, Emily.

It is the third night this week you've slept in that cot.

-Is it more comfortable than it looks?

-No.

No, I er...I'm tired, Emily.

I'd fall asleep on pins.

I come because...

..I confess myself disturbed.

Rose. The girl I took in from Miss Hart's.

What of her?

She did not return last night.

Edmund, I thought her sincere.

What do you suppose might happen, Bennet, if we sat here all day?

We'd be drunk, Mr Reid.

Whisky.

Your Rose...

She's not my Rose.

She's not mine...

..as you well know.

According to Mrs Reid, Rose did not return to the shelter last night.

Then, she returns to type.

That was my response also until Mrs Reid told me

the shelter had been broke into.

Nothing taken but the girl's personals.

What use our work, Bennet...

..if we cannot care for those we love?

DOOR OPENS

-You said the wastepaper had been cleared?

-Uh-huh.

You noticed it full.

The newspapers, writing paper. It struck me as strange.

What? That she could read and write?

I suppose so, yes.

The Ragged School, on Field Lane.

She went there every day till she was 16.

Did you see what she read and wrote here?

Er...letters, many of them.

-Received and sent.

-Letters?

-Will you fetch me paper?

-Uh-huh.

Did she speak also of a wide network of friends and family

with whom she would correspond?

She has none, Sir.

Thank you.

You see these?

Circles. Many circles.

These letters, Emily, do you think it possible

she might have ran and responded to adverts in the Lonely Hearts?

It is possible, yes.

Sergeant, we are going back to work.

Does that suit you?

Yes, Mr Reid, it does.

Artherton. Read me that roll again.

-Yes, Sir. Er, house broken up on Truman Street.

-Yes.

-Street theft, Commercial Street.

-Yes, yes.

-Three counts of public indecency.

-Yes.

-Two men cutlassed at closing.

-Move on!

And two missing persons, both teenage girls.

-What ages, precisely?

-17 and 19, Sir.

-One on Sidney Street, one on Cheshire?

-Sir.

No tarts or destitutes, then?

No, both house maids.

Reported last night, but missing since when?

One on 19th, the other the 22nd.

Get men to their addresses. All their personal effects returned here.

Yes, Mr Reid. Johnson! Michaels!

With me, Sergeant. We return to our past.

All our Ripper suspects, Sir?

High earners, very,

I look for one in particular.

Here.

Here!

What?

Are you so desperate, Inspector,

that you rake through all the suspects we ever knew?

We have the man, in your cell.

Those two missing girls' particulars, Sir.

They were using the Lonely Hearts and all.

Ah, you see, the favoured here are highlighted?

Which is why I look for this man.

Victor Silver.

Cattleman.

Land in the Argentine.

Slaughters his beef there.

Refrigerates it to board his reefer ship.

Ships it for sale - New York, the Continent, London.

And once he got here,

the way he liked to operate -

he placed these personals,

like the ones used by our missing girls.

He responded to them also, met these girls, charmed them, drugged them

took them off the streets. Why?

We never knew. The only way he came to eye is one of them caught him

slipping a dose of narcotics into her drink.

They fought, he produced a knife.

A long one, very sharp.

It failed to stop her from kicking his bollocks in and running to us.

But, for a week or two, we fancied him for Ripper. Do you remember?

And then, we ruled him out.

For good reasons.

Ones which I am surprised you have forgot.

Sergeant, read from the file.

The up-front summation will suffice.

Victor Silver, cattle importer.

Deceased 15th of Sep...

Deceased 15th of September 1888.

A year ago.

Read on.

The details of his death.

Drowned aboard the steam launch, The Pride Of Wapping.

Drowned aboard the steam launch, The Pride Of Wapping...

No.

Missing.

No body found or washed up.

77 drowned. Five lost.

171 saved. Myself included.

This man, Silver. Mr Reid? It is the first time I've heard his name.

There were many names mentioned last year. Hardly surprising to forget a few.

Yes, Sir. But tell me if I overstep. The Pride Of Wapping?

Was that not the launch from which your daughter...?

Sergeant. You overstep.

Dear Miss Erskine,

I am Clara, Victor's sister.

You took ill, so he brought you to our home.

It is morning.

I was worried you might never wake.

I cannot remember when I ever slept so sound.

Is there somewhere you need to be?

If there is, I...I cannot remember.

Then, please. I have laid out some clothes.

When you are ready, join us for breakfast.

KNOCKING ON DOOR

Dear Rose. Please.

This is my other brother, Barnaby.

And our young friend, Mary.

You are very pretty, Miss.

Please come.

BELL TINKLES

Barnaby?

Excuse me, Miss Rose.

Rose.

It was my greatest hope to find you still here.

I have been made most welcome.

I am blessed with my family.

BELL KEEPS TINKLING

Do you not agree?

Barnaby, see to the bell.

It is the most common of plagues, Mr Reid.

Loneliness.

It is the city's curse.

But this, our Lonely Hearts, the remedy.

Now, you may dictate the details of your desired love.

Our team of editors,

their one aim to lead you toward the happiness that all men merit,

they will transcribe, print and forward the missives of your passion

for the smallest of prices and in total anonymity.

But were we to construct and place our own,

you would print and run it for us?

Oh, so you do seek a wife for your Sergeant.

Your head is a sight to behold, scribbler.

You want me to match this side with the other?

Mr Drake, come now.

HE CHUCKLES

Oh, you know me. Hmm? Ever obliging.

But I would know

what reward we, here at The Star,

might expect for such a service.

Perhaps...

an interview with your gunslinger Ripper?

What price these personal advertisements?

-Ten pence.

-Then that is your reward, Mr Best.

HE CHUCKLES

'As you compose your messages,'

remember this,

he will want you naive, young,

lonely and lost in this world.

You may dictate your messages to these men here.

And when you do, you speak from the heart.

It is our Rose for whom we do so.

I am a gentle girl, shy at first,

but eager to demonstrate...

Rose?

Are there those that miss and wonder after you?

No, Victor.

Not a soul?

It makes me weep to think of you so alone.

I do not feel so in your home, however.

I feel as happy here as I ever have.

A rose, for a Rose.

You need not be so gallant.

Not with me.

Do I offend, Sir?

It's quite all right, Rose.

Here...

Some more cordial?

No, I...

..I don't think I will.

Perhaps it's time I took my leave of you.

No, Rose. We grow far too fond of you here.

Do we not, Brother?

We do, Victor.

SHE SCREAMS

Have Clara calm her.

Let me go!

Put me down, let me go!

HAMMERING

There is violence in that one, Victor.

She has worth, however.

Not if she scratch the eyes from the man to whom she is sold.

HE SIGHS

Sweet sister. You shall look after her.

And when seven weeks at sea have passed,

well, she'll be grateful merely to be alive.

Clara.

Hold firm.

We have but one more package yet to collect.

And then, we can set to sea,

safe in the knowledge that we need not return until the new century.

Should we wish to return at all?

Now go. You've left the child alone

and, though we need no longer bind her to her bed,

she may still run from us, given the opportunity.

You're to see all of these printed in the morning run.

And take receipt of all marked applicants yourself.

-You...

-You heard me, scribbler!

GIRL MUTTERS IN HER SLEEP

HE SIGHS

What is it?

The accident I told you of.

My daughter.

There was a man aboard that boat.

A man whose remains were also never recovered...

..but all thought him dead.

This man, I...

..I believe him returned.

And if he indeed survived, then...

..so also you think perhaps your daughter.

I have always known it.

I have known she was out there, somewhere.

But this, this secret dream that now takes life...

It is not for you to share with me.

Your daughter had a mother.

A mother who would have me call her dead and gone...

No, Edmund, no!

I cannot be the sounding board for your guilt.

You seek forgiveness?

An ally in the hope that your life

might return to what it once was?

I cannot provide these things for you.

SHE SIGHS

Please.

You should go home.

Have you been here all night?

Please sit down, Emily, I would speak with you.

One of the five unrecovered from the steam cruiser that day.

A man.

Name of Silver.

I believe he still breathes.

Mathilda.

She was with him.

How?!

Because...she was with me.

And I was at work.

He was a candidate of mine.

For Ripper.

I had men put on his lodgings

with orders to alert me, should he leave.

I came home...

For the first time in, in ten days.

You had asked me to.

So that you might go visiting in Harrow.

So that I may have an hour or two for myself!

If...if you even begin to lay this at my door,

I will leave this moment and you will never see me more.

Word came.

He was moving south.

And so, you decided to take her with you.

To have our daughter by your side as you stalked this man.

Should I have left her here?

Yes, Edmund! You should have!

SHE SOBS

You say she was with him.

We picked him up on Petticoat Lane.

She held my hand as we walked south.

For the docks, at St Catherine's.

Do you remember how she loved the boats?

We bought tickets.

The launch sailed.

Mathilda joined a gaggle of young

running back and forth on the upper deck.

Which is where I found him.

He had met a girl, Veronica Atkins.

Her drowned body recovered one week later, at Greenwich.

He had bought her lemonade.

Which I feared he would drug.

I stepped forward, he saw me.

Knew me for what I was.

At which moment it all came to pass.

The ship struck.

The hull split.

The deck lurching into the air.

The gaggle of girls, slipping across it.

Mathilda calling for me as she fell.

All was aflame.

The steam pipe came down upon me. I could not move.

Could not reach her as she fell past this man, into the water beneath him.

Where he, unable to cling on, also fell an instant later.

Do you see, Emily?

He might be able to say.

To recall...

..that no, she sank like a rock to the floor of the Thames.

Or that yes, she clung to driftwood.

Or even to he, himself.

-SHE SOBS:

-Stop. Stop.

You raise a hope that sinks its claws into me.

If it is forlorn...

..Edmund, I dare not think what will become of us.

Florence, authoress and composer of music.

32, wishes to meet with a true gentleman.

Too old.

Help!

Help!

BELL TINKLES

Eat up.

Help!

WOMAN'S VOICE: 'Help! Help me! Help!

'Help!'

Help!

BELLS TINKLE

HE SIGHS

BELLS CONTINUE TINKLING

Don't move, sit here, don't move.

DOOR SLAMS SHUT

MUFFLED MOAN

MUFFLED MOAN

Madison!

Send to Inspector Reid.

Tell him there's a lonely-heart cattleman here.

Name of Trumper.

Victor Trumper.

You. Name?

Bella.

I cannot watch from close.

This man, if it is he, he has had sight of me before.

The Sergeant here will never be far. We have a carriage outside.

For caution, Bella.

I am very proud of you.

SHE SIGHS

Miss Culver?

Mr...Trumper?

Well, I am sure all who see you say the same,

that you are, forgive me, a beautiful woman.

-Miss?

-Bella.

I cannot see him clear enough.

Would you call me Victor?

Shall we stroll a little?

I should like that.

Riggs and Michaels track along the ridge above. Drake in their steps.

None closer than 50 yard. I shall cut left.

See if I can get closer. Go, go.

I took the liberty.

Please.

It's lemonade.

Made by my sister.

Where was it you lived, before you came to this city?

Southend, Sir.

Please, call me Victor.

Do drink some more of your lemonade...

We should walk a little more.

No, Sir. I'm happy here.

No, you shall call me Victor.

And we shall walk.

You!

Whoever you are, you stop right there!

You. It is you.

If I see any of you move, she's dead.

Sergeant Drake!

GUNSHOT

No!

HE CHOKES

Damn you, Silver.

Damn you, you stay alive. You stay alive!

Give it to me, you're all right.

Yes. You remember me?

You remember me, you remember my little girl, Silver?

You remember her also?

Tell me! Did she live? Do you have her?

Did you see her, do you have her?

No!

No! No! No!

No! No! No!

He's the only one, he's the only one, you understand?

He's the only one who could say, whether she lives!

His sister.

HE GASPS

He spoke of his sister.

'Jackson!'

Are you still on my ticket?

Yes, I am.

Then, I need you now by my side.

I need to know where he's been the last 48 hours.

You can help me.

He has Miss Rose under key somewhere.

Others also.

This was about him.

-You expect me to work like this?

-Yes, I do for now. Yes!

Well, then get him stripped, goddamit!

These in his coat, they are customs dockets

for cargo transit aboard a ship - the Clara May.

Eight separate items. Large ones too.

-She sails in a day.

-There's matter in his lungs.

What is it?

I can't say yet.

I need to remove the tissue, set it in wax and make a cross-section.

Then I can tell you.

HE SNIFFS

What's this? Smell.

-I have to cook it.

-Cook it?

Yes! Cook it! Get some scissors and cut a patch.

And?!

Patience, Reid.

It's just a matter of minutes.

So, is this her?

-This the woman I am supposed to have slaughtered?

-What if she is?

If I could see a way of clearing myself of this,

would you grant it to me?

-Not if it involve you leaving this room, Captain.

-It does not.

Just tell me you ain't burned Frank Goodnight.

One dead Pinkerton.

Any man stands in my way shall find my foot on his throat!

The three of you.

I'll see you on the rope with him.

Enough!

This man is Homer Jackson, he is my surgeon!

I man I trust to show me to the truth, as I have always done.

Now, make your case, Captain.

Do you see any stripes here?

Blood drawn?

No.

This woman, dead five days. Yes?

Yes.

You see here, these two finger nails broken.

Skin, from her assailant.

Now, Inspector you will confirm

-that I have not yet opened this sack.

-I will.

Frank Goodnight, the man that I shot dead out there.

A man with a long history of malice held in my direction.

What do you see?

Scratches. Four of them.

The two middle deepest. Corresponding with the broken nails.

Right hand to left side of neck.

-Circumstance. Chance.

-I have not yet finished.

Sergeant Drake, describe me.

An adjective or two.

-American.

-So you keep saying.

-Feckless.

-Come on! Describe my appearance.

Unwashed. Scraggly.

Thank you! Frank Goodnight here was not.

You can smell the hair-oil on him still.

Macassar.

It was wound about her fingers.

Smell it.

HE SNIFFS

Strike you as familiar at all?

If you wish to pursue your current course of action, you be my guest.

You and I will be pitched apart, Fred.

The press will celebrate it, your name blackened, or mine.

But the same truth still abides.

This man is not the man you seek.

Now...

..will you let us get about our duty?

Well?

It's organic.

Lignified.

Could be sawdust or wood shavings.

In his lungs!

Heavily calloused.

What's he been building?

The patch from his trousers.

Ah, ammonia.

The refrigeration wadding on his ship? Is he stripping it?

To make his hold more inhabitable?

Sir, the customs dockets. eight different units.

He's constructing his own sea-cans.

Each one large enough to hold a grown woman

while he traffics her across to South America.

But it's seven weeks to the Argentine.

-Captain, the medicine with which he doped that girl?

-Laudanum.

Cut with passion flower tincture. Keeps you calm and happy

-no matter the circumstance.

-So you'd need a lot.

More than you'd collect from your neighbourhood druggist.

Sergeant, find out where his ship is at dock.

Get a list of all the pharmaceutical wholesalers within two miles of it.

Number 64!

Here!

BELL TINKERS

Miss Silver! If that is your name. We have your brother.

-Which? Victor?

-There is another?

THEY WHISPER: She must know where these girls are kept.

Reid, there's a strategy that I'd like to put to you.

It's going to require Drake, here.

Go on.

-I would see Victor.

-Would you?

While he is otherwise occupied, Miss Silver.

My company will have to do. Now.

This is what I know.

You, your brothers...

turn young women's loneliness to your own account.

You draw them in. Seduce. Drug.

House them in cargo cans for their shipping to South America.

And...

Well, there my knowledge finds its limit.

There is much lies beyond those limits, Inspector.

For one thing,

where it is you imprison your cargo before its journey?

For another, who it is keeps watch on them there?

Your other brother.

He indeed.

Barnaby.

If Victor and I are not returned home,

alone and unharmed by nightfall,

he will not falter.

He will kill them all and not think twice.

I, er...

I would avoid that.

As would I.

Then, best you tell me where it is he keeps them.

What did Victor say when you asked him this?

He remained silent.

Then, so shall I.

The child killer!

Get him stripped.

What the hell are you doing?

Creole trapper showed me how.

Never attempted it myself though.

May I ask how it was you found us?

You have a girl known to us.

We looked for her.

Which girl?

You tell me the ones you have taken,

I shall let you know when you land upon her.

And if you are mistaken and she is not with us?

Our search will continue and you and your brothers will still swing.

And the lives Barnaby will take.

Those innocent dead,

will they haunt you?

My life here.

The dead are something to which I have grown accustomed.

Innocent or blameworthy.

And yet, you believe one of ours known to you.

Perhaps I will list them for you.

Three serving maids,

we have done well from that particular constituency.

Two nurses. A shop girl.

Another, I believe, a whore seeking not to be so any longer.

And our last...

Well, she was due to be delivered this afternoon.

Have I named her?

Hmmm, Inspector?

Oh, there is one more.

You have described them all. There were but eight cargo dockets.

This one does not travel in the hold.

She is far too precious for that.

No, this one we keep close.

We nurture, Inspector.

For when she's grown just a few more years,

well, imagine the price we shall fetch for her.

Oh?

It was you.

The policeman on the boat that day.

Victor told me how you screamed for your girl...

You will tell me where you keep her!

I will not!

You wish to see brother Victor?

Come. You shall!

No!

No! You watch, you watch.

Where?!

There is not much provided in this world

which aids the course of justice.

So we take what we can, Miss Silver.

Do it, Sergeant!

No! Stop!

-You will tell me?

-I will!

-Hold your arm!

Victor!

You work well.

Help!

With me!

Gentle, Barnaby.

Where did you find her?

No, not from the boat.

Merely alone on a street corner.

Inspector, that day,

Victor reported seeing no other.

He said he thought it a miracle he was saved.

Perhaps, then, he lived on borrowed time.

He is dead, Miss Silver.

By the hand of the last girl he would have taken.

-Then in your cell, he...?

-Another.

Made to look like him.

No! You...you deceiver.

No, you killer! No!

No!

SHE CRIES

Hello.

I am Mr Reid.

'Dear Bennet.'

I wish that this letter finds you well and in good health.

I myself continue to improve

under the auspices of Mrs Reid's generous charity.

There are many things I regret in this life,

but it is the way I have behaved with you that brings me most shame.

SHE SIGHS

KNOCKING ON THE DOOR

And this is Miss Goren.

You'll be safe here.

She is a good friend to us.

SHE SIGHS

Come on.

-Morning.

-Morning.

-Sergeant.

-Mr Reid.

Chief Inspector Abberline?

Notable by his absence.

-That man, I never knew one that needed his pipes cleaned more.

-Hmmm.

KNOCKING ON DOOR

-Mr Reid, Sir.

-What is it, Sergeant?

-Ironmongers at Nelson.

-Wagstaff?

His creditors foreclose

and he has shut his doors with four of his customers inside.

Swears to murder them all, if the bailiffs come for him.

-Is he armed?

-Yes, Sir.

Well?

Shall we?

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