No Wolves in Whitechapel Ripper Street

This programme contains some violent scenes from the start

and some scenes which some viewers may find upsetting from the start.

I could no more kill Leon Ratovski than I could kill myself.

Do you travel somewhere, Miss Castello?

Paris, a story hunted down.

Thomas Gower?

This still does not make Thomas Gower Tanner's killer.

TEARING FLESH

Arrrgh!

WET SLICING

It is you who gains access to the Customs House, is it not?

Might you show me?

But there, beyond the barricade, treasure.

SHE CHUCKLES

RAIN PATTERS

THUNDER RUMBLES

Look, the golem.

DOG BARKS

What's that?

DOG BARKS

RAIN PATTERS

THUNDER RUMBLES

DOG BARKS

CLATTERING

BOTH GASP

RAIN PATTERS

Excuse me.

Ahh! Police!

Stop! There's someone there.

What?

No! Yes!

He's... He's covered in blood! He's dead!

He is.

RAIN PATTERS

I do not say you did not see it.

I only say that what you saw - it was not real.

It... It cannot be real.

It was as real as you are now, Bennet Drake.

I don't know how many times I need to say this. The woman is dead.

I saw it myself. Her ankles are twitched.

Dead! Then how?!

How, Bennet?

I am not mad!

I am not mad.

I saw her.

It is because you cannot rest.

You are sleepless. No.

Rose, any woman would suffer so.

Their senses adrift, frayed through lack of rest.

You must rest, Rose.

Please. Uncle Bennet?

Perhaps this is not, after all, the best time.

No, child, this...this is good. We are...

We are glad you have come.

Please, sit.

It is Mathilda, my love,

as we said, come to watch the lad awhile,

give him some lunch and his tea, and...

..allow you some sleep.

Allow those frayed senses of yours to knit again.

Only sleep, my love.

All will be right again.

And do not forget...

Miss Susan was your dear friend.

And in your heart...

..you must yet mourn for her.

No...

Bennet...

..she is no friend of mine.

That bitch means to steal our child.

Finished. Do you understand?

Only for real this time.

Our boy never clapping eyes on us as long as he lives,

unless it's a newspaper photograph,

the pair of us with ropes around our necks.

What was I supposed to do, Matthew?

He called to me, my son.

He called to me.

Ought I to just have abandoned him once more?

You want to know what he's going to look like as a grown man?

Teach him to ride? Watch him fall in love the first time?

You want all those things to pass?

Then, yeah, you goddamn ought to have left them there to wail for you!

Oh, you're a man - you don't understand. Oh, that's a fine apology.

Oh, I must apologise now, must I? To you?

Who I would otherwise consider the bane of my life,

if banes weren't altogether more bearable?! No, no, no!

You are not going to deflect this on me.

It's I that must go to my place of work,

a police station,

and pray to God that my chief's wife is not believed

when she says she saw a dead woman walk by her window last night!

Oh, she won't be. She was... She was barely awake. She was sleepwalking.

And besides, as you say, I am dead.

Whoever would believe her, hmm?

Well, we're soon going to find out, won't we?

Need my laboratory, don't I?

Potassium nitrate.

Make this lock-cracker for your little escapade tonight.

It mustn't happen tonight, must it?

It must.

You think you can sway Silver Beard to that way of thinking?

You leave Abel to me.

If I'm not back by ten tonight, you just assume me taken.

Make all further arrangements without me.

Only you make them fast. Do you hear me?

And you get yourself gone.

Bane of your life, huh?

Oi, oi! Can I get a hand over here?

"In recognition of his outstanding achievement...

"..in the reorganisation...

"of the Metropolitan Police Detective Department...

"..Her Majesty the Queen...

"...last night...

"bestowed the Companion of the Order of the Bath...

"..to Assistant Commissioner...

"..Augustus Dove.

"The ceremony took place at Toynbee Hall,

"where no less a personage than Joseph Chamberlain,

"the Colonial Secretary, conferred the honour."

Oh, hold up, Drum. It's the father-in-law.

Morning, Mr Reid. Drummond. Thatcher.

Morning, Mr Reid.

Hey, sir, did you see?

Assistant Commissioner Dove got a bauble for his coat.

Do you disrespect this country's heraldic traditions, Sergeant?

Who, me, Mr Reid?

Still...

it's a wonder, is it not,

where a common fella may rise to these days?

Oh, you work hard, Thatcher, who knows how far you may travel?

Oh, no. I do not speak of myself, sir. No.

Happy as he is, that's Frankie Thatcher. No.

It's Drum here that I ask for.

Indeed. And why might Sergeant Drummond thank you

for enquiring after his prospects?

He's my friend, is all.

And I know how he means to be...

To be well thought of in this world. Frank...

enough!

Oh, he IS well thought of, Mr Thatcher.

I can vouch for that.

TELEPHONE RINGS

Leman Street.

Body found off the back of Heneage.

Mr Reid, wait, if you please!

Men, come. Rope the area off as good as you can.

HE REPLACES RECEIVER

The body, it is a dead man.

One known to us, sir.

And who that, Mr Drummond?

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS

BUSTLE AND CHATTER

Drake.

Jackson.

Quiet night?

Quiet enough.

So, the boy, he's settling on, then?

He does.

Mr Drake...

Mr Drake...

a man's body is found.

Murdered, so it's said.

Who is it attends?

I feel WE must.

Who is it, Mr Reid?

Captain, yourself, also. Tell me who it is, Inspector! I am sorry, Bennet.

BUSTLE AND CHATTER

Get out of the way!

Move it!

You men, I want these ghouls ten yards further back!

Oh, Thomas...!

A street fight.

Knife wound.

Gave as good as you got, did you not, Thomas boy?

There will have been over 200 pairs of boots up and down here since sun-up.

Any signs that may have been read will have been trod and kicked into obscurity.

He wasn't killed here, however.

See his knees? Grooves and abrasions, and his hands, likewise.

It's gravel rash.

He was...

He was dragged.

Dragged himself.

Woodseer Orphanage is three streets north of here.

How?

There is this violent altercation.

The assailant takes the knife to finish the matter, leaves him.

So he crawls to where he might feel safe.

You let me through!

Let me through!!

Let me see him!

CROWD SHOUTS

Oh! Deborah...

Who has done this to him?!

Miss Goren, let us do our work. No!

And what use is that work, Edmund Reid?

What use to us all?!

Please, please, let me walk you home. You cannot help him now.

Sergeant Drake, as you once were, think of this boy.

Think of all you have done for him!

SHE SOBS

Come, come.

FLASH DISCHARGES

Thatcher! Remove this hacker and her work.

There's no law says you may take that, Sergeant.

Oh, is there not? Oh...

GLASS SHATTERS

Get you gone, woman.

Go!

SCUFFLING

The wound...

..how long for him to bleed out, do we say?

Ten minutes. Certainly no longer.

And so injured, he could not have dragged himself

at no more than what...?

Ten yards a minute, maybe?

Miss Goren's orphanage, north of here.

He must therefore...

come from the other direction.

Thatcher! Yeah?

I want a radius, 150 yards.

All points south.

Such a ruck, it would not took a place on a main thoroughfare.

We look for dark corners, therefore. Get these men to it!

Some will say this is what killed him.

This from which the ruin of his life was made.

This is the response, not the question.

SHE SIGHS

Edmund Reid - who sees life and its puzzles clearer than you?

I have no idea what life would look like were it not a puzzle.

Were it not, I firmly believe the two of us would never have met.

No.

Well, here is another puzzle for you.

Why is it, do you suppose, in the...

In the two and a half months since Isaac was hanged,

you have not sat down to take a drink with me once?

Why do you think?

I felt...

shame.

SHE INHALES

Because you could not save Isaac?

I wasn't going to show you these, but...

These are drawings made of this...

"Whitechapel golem"

in the weeks before the Rabbi Ratovski was murdered.

No, they are the drawings made in the past month.

And what do you make of that fact, Deborah?

If they draw him still, perhaps he lives still,

and did not die when Isaac Bloom was hanged.

Might I borrow these?

Edmund, there...

There is a matter, I feel it is perhaps...

..disloyal to say it.

But your daughter Mathilda... What of her?

Her friendship with Miss Castello...

Rachel is a good person, this I know,

but she is young and angered.

She feels you police hide the truth

of what is acted out on the people of her faith.

She is Jewish? Raised as an Englishwoman.

However, she discovers her heritage with a zeal,

a zeal for truth,

and that truth to be discovered however it may.

If you see my meaning.

I do not know if it is disloyal.

But I know that I am grateful to you for sharing of it.

CHATTER NEARBY

Whoa, hey.

Hey!

MUTTERING

CLATTERING

What's happened?

CHATTERING

Blimey, what are they lookin' for?

CROWD CHATTERS

Here, you be Gower.

Might be something.

You are a newspaperwoman.

It is your job to inveigle, to connive, to seduce,

but this is low.

She's a child. She's my child.

She is not that, Mr Reid.

I do not know her well, but what I do know of her, I admire.

And she's no child, sir.

And you seek to turn her to what?

My betrayal? No, sir.

Never that.

I seek only that which you seek also, Mr Reid -

that which I find endlessly injuncted from me.

The truth.

Wait. What is that?

Is this the murdered man Ratovski?

What is this? What is this mapping?

What is it you make here?

A history.

Of the frozen and famished journeys made by those of my faith,

that they might find shelter in Whitechapel.

Ratovski's journey amongst?

Ratovski? What of him?

Show me. Show me! No, sir, I will not.

Bring a warrant if you must press it.

A warrant.

Or what details of the man and his end

which you yourself keep hidden from view

in the H Division archives.

I believe there is an expression for the exchange.

Quid pro quo.

See this?

It's piercing of the spleen.

Unstoppable internal bleeding.

That was the finishing, but not the finishing he sought.

You don't mean it.

All right, look at Gower's pockets.

There's money within, therefore it's not a theft.

It is personal?

His first point of attack from behind. Pinned against the wall.

He wished to knife him, he would have done it there and then.

It is an easy thing to say, I know...

but it is not you did this.

It is not you put that knife in him.

Nor you yourself, Mr Reid.

SCRAPING

Oh, God, no.

No, no, no, no! What?

JACKSON PICKS UP TELEPHONE

Hey, Drummond, I need you to dig up a file for me.

Last name, Ratovski.

What is it you do?

Tell me! What do you think?

This is a human bite mark.

TELEPHONE RINGS

What?

What do you mean, gone?!

Sergeant Drummond, beneath my desk, calfskin briefcase.

It is within.

Why is it you've kept it, Inspector?

The case remains of interest. Despite my instructions otherwise?

What would you have me do, Bennet? Avert my eyes?

Exactly that, Mr Reid.

We had precise words on that matter, did we not?

And I was clear as to what such disobedience might then incur.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Get out, Drummond.

Yes, Mr Drake.

HE SIGHS

They are not alike, Jackson. Not close!

That's because those were taken from the lower abdomen.

It's fleshier there. There's more to take.

In both these examples...

the mandibular lower incisor

is overlapped by the maxillary central incisor.

And now, the exact measurement on each of 'em

is a notch, and I mean a notch...

..under 250 thou.

An overbite.

A slight overbite.

You throw a rock into Commercial Street at lunchtime,

you will strike a man with the same.

Furthermore, the method of attack on this here is...

It's entirely at odds.

This is...

This is a street brawl, a knifing!

Drake!

Now, whatever this means to you, it means the exact same to me. I made this case, too.

Now, how many examples of pre- and postmortem biting

have we had in the eight years since I've served you here?

None.

Save this Ratovski...

and now your boy Gower.

They see him still...

..who they used to call the...

Whitechapel golem.

These were drawn recently at the orphanage in Woodseer Street.

Bennet...

No.

No.

This man's killer...

has been hanged for his crime.

And these?

Children's scrawlings and overbite?

They are not evidence fit for the overturning of that sentence.

Now, I warned you, Mr Reid.

So you give me reason why I ought not to send you away.

This...here, now...

I do not pursue it in some attempt to make the world wrong,

or to disprove your work, his work...

OUR work.

I do it because I see the need for it.

And, yes, my return to Whitechapel

was indeed to make some defence of Isaac,

but that I stayed - it is you, Bennet Drake.

You, my friend,

who I missed...

..and who, now, I wish nothing other than to help.

And how is it you now help me?

I want what you want.

I want to know who it was killed this boy.

I want to see the investigation I make bring you to him.

I want to give Thomas Gower his justice,

to use his awful death to make comparison.

Despite all that you say, there are similarities with Ratovski's murder

that must at least be discarded

before any investigation can move forward.

So you show me the case you made against Bloom, Bennet.

Show me, every step of the way.

And then either you will prove me wrong,

in which case, you may indeed send me away, or...

we - you and I -

shall then together bring this killer to earth.

Well, he has ME sold.

Fetch me my boy.

SHE CHUCKLES AND KISSES HIM

Come.

Why are you here?

My Uncle Bennet, your husband, asked it of me.

So you might rest, Mrs Drake.

No.

Girl...

why are you in Whitechapel?

And don't talk your riddles with me

and tell me you are here because your father, Mr Reid, is here.

You tell me why the pair of you would return to this place at all.

It is our home.

Home?

A place...

where he knew nothing but blood and despair?

Where you were kept prisoner by all them people?

Your mother gone,

dead and mad for the loss of you?

That's home, is it?

Home chooses us, I believe,

and not the reverse.

Huh!

You know who the mother is...

SHE LAUGHS

Not mother.

I am that.

I am.

You know who the maker of Connor here is?

It is Miss Susan.

It IS Miss Susan.

It is her.

She who might poison the well of all London,

and find those who still love, and forgive her.

Yourself, Mathilda...

I'm sure you would be delighted...

...to see her once more...

and pass an hour or two in chat with her.

It is true, I would.

But Miss Susan is dead.

Hmm.

Miss Susan is dead. Long...

Susan Hart is dead.

The whole world thought you were dead, and gone, Mathilda.

And yet, there you stand.

Connor...

Connor...

your mama is sorry.

Mathilda, he likes a pinch of cinnamon in his milk,

and we're now run dry of it.

Will you take a penny from my purse, there, and fetch him some?

Of course, Mrs Drake.

SHE HUMS

DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES

When I was a girl and I wanted my way,

I would wheedle and whine...

..offer eternal devotion for a desire met,

owe a thing for one denied.

And you are now changed how?

I do not whine. Small mercies.

And a man as accustomed to lying as you are would see clean through me

as soon as I made as if I hated you.

Oh, but you have charm, my girl.

And if we are to do this thing,

let us do it tonight.

It is...

intemperate.

It is bold.

See you, Lady Macbeth.

Thieve in haste, repent at leisure.

Gather your Japanese porcelain while ye may.

HE CHUCKLES

If it must indeed come to pass that you leave us...

..I would see you steam away from me on still waters. And this...

Plans must be made, observations took.

They are made.

They are took.

By myself.

Because, Abel...

..the snare closes.

Closes? How? I'll keep you safe here.

It is only that I feel it.

I feel it on me sharp.

No.

You are altogether too tough-minded for such suspicions.

You tell me, girl...

You tell me how that snare looks.

I have been seen.

What does she say?

"Thank you, Matthew, for saving my life"?

"Well done"?

Nope.

"Take me to see my boy."

Now...

I told you that was a bad idea.

And did you listen?

No.

And whose problem is it now?

That's right.

Old Jackson.

And I'm the one that goes off half-cocked.

I'm the one that doesn't think things through(!)

CLATTERING

Shit! Idiot!

THUNDER RUMBLES

This how she did it, then?

What did she promise you, Guard Theakston? Money?

For delivery to that pit?

A kind word?

Her snake tongue in your ear?

Who is it you speak of? I don't even know who you are.

Oh, do you not?

What about the boy, then?

Remember him?

That's Miss Susan's boy.

And you would let him believe she is dead, when she is not.

How did she climb down from that scaffold, eh?

How did she do that?

My husband -

this boy's new father -

he is the police headman at Whitechapel.

And he will see you swing,

just as surely as he will her when he catches her.

How did she do it?

Where is she hid?

Who hides her?

I see you.

Your fear.

You tell me.

You're mad, woman.

You're all the same!

SHE GRUNTS

Come on, Connor.

LIVELY CHATTER

This is where we found Ratovski.

Here.

Boy found him, raised a uniform.

You were able to keep the scene intact?

It was chaos by the time I got here.

Packed tight. Screaming.

Folk could see what had been done to him.

Head caved in, shirt ripped from him, and...

those bites taken out of his body.

Word would've got about, I imagine, chimed most likely with the...er...

the talk that had grown up of this Whitechapel golem.

Although there is no golem myth in which it's said to have torn men's flesh from their bodies.

Whatever the myth of it, Mr Reid,

we saw to it that any confirmation of that fact

be withheld from the press.

And why that?

I was worried at what those with a fear of our Jewish neighbours might accuse them of.

I felt it a wise policy. And one that you continued once Isaac Bloom was...

Once he, a Jewish man, was sentenced for it, yes.

And so then you removed the body...?

We did.

Identification?

The man's university accreditation was found about him.

You'd wired his place of work?

He'd taken a week's leave, not told a soul for why.

And then door to door?

The synagogue on Princelet Street.

Max Steiner.

Ratovski paid his respects...

made a few prayers,

and offered nothing of his purpose, and left.

Then we go to Bloom's lodgings next.

An old lock-seller, a lady,

said she saw Ratovski arrive at Bloom's around six of the evening.

Saw him leave an hour later. His body found...?

The next morning.

But killed, according to Jackson, 11 of the night.

And you interviewed Bloom. You found him disturbed, I imagine?

More bewildered, at the first.

He could not recall Ratovski's visit, or even that the man existed.

And you did not search his room then?

I had no call to.

It was not as though I did not remember the man fondly, Mr Reid.

I felt sad for him, not suspicious.

So it was not until you had Rabbi Steiner's account of him being attacked by Bloom that you returned?

Another violent attack on a religious man.

A compelling indicator that warranted further pursuit.

A search warrant was requested.

We returned to Bloom's lodgings, here,

conducted our search, found our plug of flesh - that shirt.

YELLING IN HEBREW

Calm yourself, sir. I beg you, calm yourself.

Police. We mean you no harm.

Our apologies.

We will leave you.

Briggs! Here, take a shift.

Tilda, what is it?

Is my Uncle Bennet here? My father?

Neither, Tilda. What is it that worries you? Will you say?

I think I must not, Drum. Might I wait, however?

Do I wait, then, for you to show me what it is I have neglected to see?

No, 'tis copper-fastened, Bennet.

I would have come to the same conclusions, I do not contest that.

Perhaps I worry it is, er...

too much of an irreproachable case.

We here cannot win, but for one fault or another.

But do you not agree?

In his bewilderment, you have found the perfect suspect.

In that search, the unimprovable evidence.

Does such ease, given what we have seen today,

not raise the slightest shiver of suspicion for you?

And is that not you all over, Mr Reid?

Your fevered eyes once more burning through the deceit of the world,

in the hope that you might at last uncover its black mechanics.

Another body!

WHISTLE BLOWS

PEOPLE CLAMOUR

WHISTLE BLOWS

SHOUTING CONTINUES

See the wounds on his side? The bite marks?

All the signs of the golem.

Did you see what has been done to him, sir?

To his flesh?

Sir? Inspector Drake?

Sir? Inspector Drake!

Will you not tell me what our eyes now see here?

What has been done to this man?

Or will you hide the facts of this case, too?

Come on. Come on.

SHOUTING CONTINUES

I wonder if you understand...

...if you could imagine, even, what it is

so many in our community have suffered to find...

If you will, please... I will not, Inspector Drake!

They do not walk, starving, through the frozen steppes of Europe

to arrive here to be so savaged...

just when they imagine they have some salvation near at hand.

You are charged with the people's protection, sir,

and you have failed in that mandate!

And you, Mr Reid...

how will you remedy this?

I will ask you of this man.

Can you tell me his name?

His name is Nadelman.

More than that, I can't tell you.

He recently came here from Lithuania.

As you can see...

emaciated from his deprivations.

But we cared for him.

We gave him a room beneath the synagogue.

And that is where you found him, sir?

It was.

Mr Thatcher, you will escort Rabbi Steiner back to Princelet Street.

Take men. And you will work the room as you have been taught.

Rabbi Steiner, we will see these streets now scoured

for the cause of this - you have my word.

We will not rest till it is done.

Bennet. Bennet? What?

What? Do you try to tell me the old man is wrong?

That this is not at my door?

This Nadelman. Thomas Gower.

Isaac Bloom, innocent and hanged.

You are not their killer.

You are not.

This is a battle worth the blood, remember?

This is not a battle - this is defeat.

Oh, so the abyss will swallow Bennet Drake, will it?

It swallowed YOU once, if you remember.

Our Gower was a soldier, with the strength to resist this, er...

..fetish with the body,

but this man - no, you can see how weak he is.

Advanced malnutrition, severe muscle wastage,

necrosis of the fat cells.

You can approximate a time of death?

Are you asking if it was about the same time as Gower's?

Yeah, I'd say it was proximate, Reid.

The, er...

this killer, here.

He comes face-to-face with Thomas's strength and resistance,

takes a knife to end that resistance,

then he flees from the rumpus he has no doubt made...

..makes his way towards the refugee lodgings in Princelet Street...

Finds a man too broken to fight.

Lets his desires grow fierce.

Now come see. Take a look here.

Here's your parallel tracks

where the upper incisors scraped down the skin.

And these are static puncture marks

when he then gouges down onto the lower teeth,

and then the flesh is torn and sheared,

so it's almost as if he's shaking them with his teeth.

So this biting, it presents itself less as cannibalism,

and more of a...

A means of attack.

It's like an animal. Like a dog attacks.

Like a dog.

It's alike.

This is the animal hair that I took from where Gower was found.

From the scale pattern of the cuticle and the medulla type,

it's from an animal that is very much like a dog.

It's a timber wolf.

Now, this town is crazy, I grant you,

but the last time I checked...

..there were no wolves in Whitechapel.

TELEPHONE RINGS

RINGING CONTINUES

Yes?

Assistant Commissioner Dove is here.

The error of it, sir.

Sheer bloody muck of a mistake.

Not for the minding of, Inspector. Not now.

Not yet.

I know you.

The man you are, the policeman you are.

The compassion and rigour you brought to that case,

as to every other part of your work here...

You could never be questioned.

It must be brought once more, Mr Drake.

This killer must be trapped.

I know you understand this, sir.

You shall have all the resources you require.

Thank you, sir.

And I expect updates.

On the hour. You shall have them, Mr Dove.

Mr Reid.

You find this savage beast, Inspector.

I will, sir.

Good evening, Mrs Drake.

And hello to you, young man.

I'm sure Mr Dove is pleased to see you, as I am,

but it is late for the lad to be out and about.

Rose, it is freezing.

Never mind Connor.

Better you mind me.

Not now, woman. Not here.

Mr Drake, I should... No, Augustus - you will hear this.

Rose... I have no secrets,

unless you know how it is a murderess escaped her sentence?

I know how she did it. I know.

I have discovered it.

Rose, I have told you, this is a madness. It is not, Bennet!

See, I went to Newgate, to the pit there,

and there is a guard, name of Theakston.

Oh, how he used to make eyes at Long Susan.

"Miss says this, Miss says that."

He'd have cleaned her arse with his tongue had she asked for it.

Rose, enough! But I stopped him...

and I asked him.

I said, "How'd she done it? Tell us.

"Tell us where she hides."

You should have seen him -

white as the beard of God.

And I knew it.

I knew it then.

She must have been put in that Newgate pit still alive,

and some accomplice to come and collect her.

You cannot think... You think I'm not able?!

Just remember all that she has done.

55, man, woman, child, and not a soul in this square mile

whose lives not changed by her.

By Long Susan Hart, and she is about her evil once more.

You will stop this now!

Just try and make me, Bennet Drake!

Say you love me, do you?

Well, you cannot.

Because you do not trust me.

I, who have trusted you, and had faith in you,

when I know the black things you have done.

You will be silent.

I will not!

Reid...

..Susan, the Captain, all of you.

The things you have done, and I have kept that secret

like a poison in my heart.

Rose! Enough!

You two stop this right now.

Have a care.

Let me take him home, then.

We must take him home now, love.

Come on.

Let us get on.

Did you hear her accusations?

I couldn't fail to, could I, Frank? And so what do you say?

I say they are best unheard.

FRANK SCOFFS

I tell you what, Miss Reid...

He's a lickspittle, this one.

And you, Frank Thatcher, have an old woman's snatch box for gossip.

If you do not mind, Mathilda,

I should like a word with Sergeant Drummond.

Yes, sir.

Here, sir?

No - public house, I think.

Thatcher, you may stand at dock till he returns.

You might be a little warier with my daughter, however.

After you, Drummond.

It's still too god damned wet.

Have to serve.

You should know, Mr Reid, that...

..your Mathilda...

I mean to say,

if it please you, that you ought not to be afraid of any impropriety, or...

Or ugly motive on my part.

I seek only to...

if such were permitted...

both by yourself...and herself, of course, I...

I seek only to be allowed to come to know her a little better. Drummond?

Yes, Mr Reid?

Six months back...

..when Captain Jackson removed the bloody imprint

of Isaac Bloom's fingerprints from the shirt placket

of the murdered rabbi, Ratovski,

and Inspector Drake wished them then to be used as evidence -

you recall all this?

I do.

And the warrant that was then secured

for the search of Mr Bloom's rooms?

Yes, sir.

And when it was felt that the full and awful details

of the crime should not be broadcast abroad, for fear of panic...

and so the newspapers were injuncted - all this you recall?

Well, who could forget, Mr Reid?

Then, tell me...

whose authority was it saw these commands made?

Why... Mr Dove, sir.

Good evening, Augustus.

You have heard the rumpus out there?

I have not, forgive me.

It has been a day.

Well, it must have been...

for the whole world cries of it.

Of what?

Not the once, but twice.

He has...

performed his act once more.

The last occasion,

he confessed to both of us what he'd done to that rabbi.

Oh, I remember, Abel. What a runaround that was.

You were meant to care for him. And I do. I do!

This cannot happen again. He must be watched.

ABLE SIGHS I know, I know.

And further to that, Abel...

the woman you shelter...

..I now know who she is.

Why would you not tell me?

She is almost a celebrity in these parts,

and you have kept her these two months.

I have grown fond of her.

Wish her well.

Your murderous, conniving mind, by your kind heart...

..it will be the finishing of you.

Mmm.

I do not think it is the end of myself

which currently exercises you, Assistant Commissioner.

You and that bauble so recently pinned to your breast.

Besides, they owe me money.

She and her American husband? Oh, yeah.

How did he do it?

How did he fake her death, Abel?

Free her?

Oh, damned if I know.

But he is a sharp one.

Plus, there are...

plans afoot,

which will see the pair of them gone.

Plans?

Mmm.

There is currently some merit in H Division's finest surgeon

being gone from it.

You set about your plan, Abel.

I shall set about seeing how else the trail that leads to us

may be broke and scattered.

How that, Augustus? How broke? How scattered?

Never mind that for now.

You get home, and you keep that beast close to you, you understand?

FOOTSTEPS

DOOR CREAKS OPEN

DOOR CLOSES

DOOR OPENS

Matthew. I was afraid.

Me and you both, darling.

I tell you... This town...

The things that I've seen within it today,

me and you've got to get this thing finished,

and ourselves done with this place for all time.

Where's the sea dog?

He's called away.

And the retarded first mate?

Sleeping beyond.

KNOCKS ON THE TABLE

I know there's wisdom in sleeping early for night work,

but it's time to rise and get about it now, son.

DOOR OPENS

Well, my children...

DOOR CLOSES

..the night is a dark one.

Clouds roll over.

Such auguries must not be ignored.

Let us eat before we thieve.

Move across.

I sit there.

Go, Nate, move along.

Who are we to separate husband and wife?

Er, while you're up...

..get them kerosene lamps, and wipe them down.

There is food aplenty, Captain.

No call for you to be filching others'.

Sleep.

Forget about this world awhile.

Were there nought to be done, I would stay, Rose.

But, er...

..tonight, there is an evil out there, which I...

I cannot hide at home, my love.

And, for all that it may not be worth a heap of shit no more...

..I must go to work.

Bennet...

Yes, my love?

Do what you like.

DOOR CLOSES

CHATTER

STEAM TRAIN CHUGS

As we have agreed, your building of the case,

the evidence which convicted Mr Bloom...

..it was...

flawless.

But we know that Isaac Bloom cannot have killed Ratovski, because...

The killer still walks amongst us. Yes.

And we must needs look elsewhere for the flaw, Bennet.

And so I only ask you...

to think on who else might have had...

both the knowledge...

and the opportunity.

What?

My division has known care and advancement beneath his eye.

He has been the voice and encouragement

we who must police this quarter have always called for.

He has understood my life here, Mr Reid.

He has...

been my friend.

And it is he who gets you your warrant.

He who, therefore, knows the address at which to leave the evidence.

Evidence that he knew Captain Jackson

would clasp tight to his heart.

And it is he who then says, "Yes, use your fingerprints,"

and, "Yes, I will bar all newspaper reportings of the details."

Only...he, Bennet.

Only Augustus Dove.

You ask me to admit his corruption.

I must therefore admit my own.

I see that.

I see that, Bennet, I do. But...

..what purchase that support and advancement has given him here...

My purchase, you mean?

No. My seduction?!

No, I do not mean to say... No, Mr Reid!

No, I may now need you here for this fight which comes down.

But you leave off Augustus Dove, you hear?

DOVE: Rose.

Rose, it is only me.

Rose, forgive me.

Will you let me in?

DOOR CLOSES

Did you not come to curse me for my madness?

Why would I?

I know you're sane.

Do you believe me?

I do, Rose.

SHE GASPS

Oh, that is a wonderful thing.

Thank you.

Augustus, thank you!

Will you keep watch?

Over us?

If Mr Drake is not here to do so, then I shall.

The thought of you doing so currently makes me happier.

However...

There was another fear that you spoke of earlier.

On the subject of Miss Hart.

But also...

Mr Reid.

An act in which you believe them to have collaborated.

A bad thing.

A bad...

thing.

Not only those two.

The captain, also.

And Bennet.

What was it, Rose?

I made a promise.

I swore it.

Never, ever to tell.

Then you must not, Rose.

Never break a promise.

CAMERA CLICKS

CAMERA CLICKS

CAMERA CLICKS

You sent for me?

Quid pro quo.

STEAM TRAIN RUMBLES

ABEL: Here we go.

Safe.

In you go.

After you, madam.

Captain.

Here.

Hush now, children.

Captain.

METALLIC RATTLING

Only the lock, correct?

Correct? Yes!

Correct.

FUSE FIZZLES

Matthew, wait...

EXPLOSION

HE COUGHS

Too much spice in your stew, Captain.

WHISTLE BLOWS

Nate!

No! No, Abel...

I will not have more blood on my tally.

Not yours, my girl - mine. Mine can manage the extra.

You step aside, get your crockery.

WHISTLE BLOWS

SHOUTING OUTSIDE

SLICING

SCREAMING

DULL THUD

For this? Mmm.

Anything else you wish to pilfer, or do we sail?

I will not stand idle whilst Whitechapel falls beneath terror.

You are up to your guts in this.

This is the animal unleashed.

There ain't nothing so cruel in this world as the killing of love.

Perhaps I am only good for the fight.

Now we go hunting.

Bennet!

SHE SIGHS DEEPLY

The shooting was fully justified.

So he's the Belfast strangler?

DOCTOR SHOUTS INSTRUCTIONS