Thriller. With Reid locked in the cells of Leman Street police station, all hope seems lost. But is there time for one last roll of the dice?
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I was told that you were dead. But he did not...
Yes, but I was told this.
I will talk to her. My word on it.
I do not see an animal, Nathaniel.
And what if we left this place? Robin as well.
Robin Sumner, you trust me, don't you?
I'll see you safe.
You've been a very brave boy, Robin.
Well, that boy's dead,
washed up like garbage in the mud of Goodluck Hope.
It's your piece-of-shit brother, killing on account of your killing,
you goddamn animals.
There is a candle, sir.
Mathilda! We had to catch him!
How is it you were taken?
They say it was as though you surrendered.
Sir, to what end? Hm?
Did you and the Captain find Robin's killed mother and uncle?
On what rash instinct has he and Miss Susan now blasted their way
in and out of Mr Dove's home?
Please, Mr Reid.
What must we do next?
MAN: You can see they came through this way.
This is your case, Inspector Drummond.
This may be Hackney, but this is a crime birthed in Whitechapel.
Its felons will no doubt be hid there until their escape may be made
and you, sir, and your men at H Division,
you shall hunt and trap them in Whitechapel.
Am I clear? Yes, Mr Dove.
Now that they've got the boy, they must make their escape and must show themselves in so doing.
Therefore, will you allow me more men requisitioned from the J and the K?
See the docksides locked down, all the train stations likewise.
She was mother to me when I had need of one.
And they have stole my son.
So, yes, Inspector, you shall have all the men you require.
Only make the instruction. Yes, sir.
And Mr Reid? Now that Mr Shine's last actions have delivered him into your custody, does he speak?
He does not.
And never mind what Mr Shine did to him. It's...
it's as if the marrow has been sucked from his bones.
The betrayal he has suffered.
The perception of it, at least. It is perhaps understandable.
You have cleared the Leman Street cells for his safety there?
Then perhaps I might interview him?
I should be grateful, sir.
Then let us to Leman Street. After you, Inspector.
Send for a photographer. Do not let the mortuary men touch her.
Thank you, Matthew.
I never knew...
I never knew what it would be to see the two of you together...
..and to know myself changed.
you watch your father,
but, despite all, there is much to take example from.
His courage and his love.
There are fences yet to be leapt.
But we're going home, son,
And there, there are deep valleys
and there are rivers that are fresh with spring thaw.
I have the carriage ready.
My driver will take you as far as the Old North Road
and then make his own way home.
Now, Connor, this is Miss Mimi,
our true friend.
Well, how else am I to be rid of you?
The docks will be watched.
The boat trains for the northern and southern ports likewise.
No, you'd only be apprehended, escape once again, return here,
and I should never be able to open this playhouse to the paying public.
All right. Best we're about it, then.
You do not wish to hear news of the wider world of Whitechapel?
We do not. And what news is that, Miss Mimi?
Jedediah Shine is dead.
Well, that's cause for celebration, then.
Er...it is not said in detail...
..only that the capture of Mr Reid was his last living act.
It appears Mr Reid's daughter was turned to his betrayal.
Hey, he knew the risk. I warned him.
But he decided to go his own way, just as now we're going to go ours.
Caitlin, you bring the boy. I'm going to take the bags out to the carriage.
Caitlin, I said bring the boy.
Matthew, I have to. I made the promise.
That betrayal, that sundering, they are down to me.
God damn it, Caitlin!
Or does he not merit intervention? Does she not deserve the truth?
And what about us, for Christ's sakes?
We have him, we have Connor,
and now you're going to go saunter over
and present yourself to the home address of Inspector Samuel Drummond?
I do not suggest such a thing.
DOOR RATTLES AND CREAKS
DOG BARKS OUTSIDE
Will you leave us a moment, Inspector Drummond?
DOG BARKS OUTSIDE
All of London is a-clamour, sir.
The capital's press is therefore to be gathered
at Scotland Yard tomorrow morning...
..where I shall explain to them the ugly whys and wherefores of how it is
the leading police of Whitechapel are either murdered or murdering.
I'm sure you...
..a service you would render,
should you give full account of...
..all you know.
Your friends have killed once more.
the spattering of which lands on your shirt cuffs, Mr Reid,
for you know where they might be found and will not say.
Will you now tell me?
And be aware I do not offer you terms.
You are wiser than to think your many articles of disgrace might be shrived for one act of confession.
No, you speak, because you understand that this mayhem must come to an end.
You do it because you believe in a resolution.
A last good act for Edmund Reid.
It will not erase the stain of your works, sir.
But it will return a measure of order
to the community you have purported to serve...
..and some peace
to the shattered soul of your daughter.
I could hear Bennet Drake as he died.
I heard what it was he said to your brother,
before your brother took his throat out.
Bennet said that to see him was only looking in a mirror...
..and now you and I here,
facing reflections of our own.
I know you sincere, Mr Dove...
..sincere in your hope that the world be righted and renewed...
..the pitiless murk of the past
be obliterated and forgot.
This journey here,
began with a man named Isaac Bloom.
You recall the name?
Isaac was a mathematician.
He believed that numbers betrayed the true nature of our universe
and that, accordingly, it was empirically proved
that the entropy of the universe extended to a maximum,
that everything moved irretrievably from order
You do not believe that, do you?
I said the same, because what hope for Whitechapel if he were right?
You wish for a confession of truth from me?
Well, this is it.
Isaac Bloom was correct in all that he said.
You forget your hopes, sir,
because this Whitechapel is coming for you.
The one last good act, you say?
Then I choose the simplest.
I will not betray my friends.
He will not speak. But we must proceed, regardless.
The man he is, his position in your own private life,
it is no easy thing, I know.
But you see him charged, Inspector.
I shall, Mr Dove.
My, but you are upright, the pair of you.
What is it scares you, Drum?
That just as the sanctified Miss Mathilda Reid has done,
we too might find cause to wallop you in full view of the world?
Are you about your work, Desk Sergeant?
Have you wired the J and K about them extra boots?
Do they even now read their instructions
as to how each and every means of departure from this town
is to be barricaded?
No? Then see it done!
And when you have, you may come and witness Mr Reid's charge sheet.
Hear his offences for yourself.
Please confirm your name.
Edmund John James Reid.
Address? 14 Fairclough Street, Whitechapel.
Police officer. Drummond?
What I asked of you earlier, you told Mathilda?
That I understand, that I understood?
KNOCK AT DOOR
Please, will you tell her?
Please say that you'll tell her.
CLEARS THROAT: Charge sheet against Reid, Edmund John James.
Witness, Sergeant Francis Thatcher.
Her Majesty's Metropolitan Police do charge you with the following crimes.
The unlawful murder with malice aforethought of Theodore Swift.
The unlawful murder of Horace Buckley. Drum...
Aiding and abetting in the unlawful murder of Frank Goodnight.
Drummond. Conspiracy to defeat justice.
Please... Being an accessory after the fact... Mathilda must know.
..to the felony of permitting... She must not suffer... ..Miss Susan Hart... ..further distress.
..and Captain Homer Jackson to regain their liberty, whilst having them in custody.
It is only a message. You will sign here, Mr Reid. Why will you not undertake to give it?
He cannot undertake to do that, Mr Reid,
because Miss Mathilda put him out on the streets and won't speak to him.
Is this true, Drummond?
Please, sir, sign... Tell me.
Sergeant Thatcher, sign. Samuel Drummond?
Was it you who lit the candle in Mathilda's window?
Sergeant Thatcher, earlier, you were enquiring after the Sumner family.
Yes, Mr Reid.
Perhaps one-and-a-half kilometres upstream from the Limehouse Cut,
there is a series of heavy meanders through Bow Creek
and on the eastern bank
there is a copse of black poplars at Goodluck Hope.
Amongst, you will find a mound of earth marked with a prow of driftwood
and within that grave you will find the murdered body of Robin Sumner.
Commissioner Dove, I believe.
And that Inspector Drum, up there with his vanity and his ambition,
he may as well have the little boy's blood on his hands as well.
Well, he shall hear what he's done.
No. No, no.
Samuel Drummond...Samuel Drummond is innocent of all and must remain so.
Sir? The candle. Miss Mathilda. How can you defend him?
It was done for the love of her.
It serves no purpose to ruin his sense of the world.
Not yet, at any rate.
Then I ask you again, sir.
What must we do now?
Not we, Francis Thatcher.
TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS
You are Miss Mathilda Reid?
Yes. Who are you?
This is my theatre, Miss Reid.
It means a great deal to me so I do hope that you can be trusted.
Why am I brought here?
Because she asks.
And she has a way of getting what she asks for.
You bank a great deal on my discretion, Miss Susan.
I hope you will consider it a risk worth taking.
Then what is it that I may do for you?
Relieve me of a secret,
How may I do that?
Allow me to tell it to you...
..for I've kept it long and it is to me a poison.
My son knows a friend when he sees one.
May I fetch you some tea, Miss Reid?
Thank you, Captain Jackson.
We heard the news of your father.
He was hid here with us until...
Well, you called to him,
and which father can resist the call of his child?
But I did not call to him,
did not send him out to go beneath Mr Shine's fists.
I would not. I could not.
I believe it, Mathilda. You love him.
The things he has done?
May I tell you about my father?
LONG SUSAN TALKS
Are you feeling all right?
a little flu.
what he suffered and for all its horror...
..I wished for Mr Reid to lock the grille and leave my father there.
Forgive me, Miss Susan.
But your father's fate, my own's involvement in that,
it is not those actions which brought me to despair.
I know, Mathilda.
But Mr Buckley... what he did to Mr Buckley...
Mathilda, this...this is why I bring you here.
down the years,
you bring to mind the picture of what befell Mr Buckley in that cellar,
you no more imagine Mr Reid with that man's head between his fists...
Now, it would take you another lifetime to understand
what would have made me do...do such a thing,
but at the time I believed your father
perhaps as vicious as your... your worst dreams may suggest...
SNIFFS ..to my shame,
my lifelong shame,
I saw a way by which...
..all that I had made for myself...
..all that your father would set himself upon taking from me,
I saw a means to protect it and that means was a lie.
In the days after you were found, taken into my care,
your mind fevered, wandering,
the damaged spirit child Mr Buckley had made you believe that you were...
..your father, Mr Reid, came looking for you
and I told him you were dead.
And worse, Mathilda.
For all Mr Buckley's gentleness to you,
I described a vision of horror to your father,
that you had been chained and starved and...and violated
all those years that you'd been gone from him.
So, yes, he took Horace Buckley's life.
But with my hands, Mathilda.
..as though he were my puppet.
It's true, Miss Reid.
All of it.
And so you bring me here now to tell me this,
because you have your son, are leaving,
and wish to unburden yourself before you do?
Forgive me, but, as ever, I feel you serve no-one's ends but your own.
Think on it,
as my father is dragged pitilessly to his justice,
while you escape yours.
God damn it!
You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?
Of all the women in the world to have an attack of conscience.
God damn it!
I mean, what did he ever do for me, huh?
Hauled his flapping ass out of more scrapes than I care to think of,
Now what, Captain?
I have a goddamn plan...
I see him, Sarge.
Evening, boys. You took your sweet time.
Think it's going to take six of you, do you?
Well, perhaps it might...
..if you were men and not cowards and eunuchs.
Come on, darlings.
Where's Sergeant Thatcher?
Don't know, sir. Well, somebody bloody find him!
Well, Drummond, the fairy queen himself.
Whatever it is you have in mind, do not take me for a fool.
Has he been searched?
Inspector, sir... What?
You're called for.
I'm occupied. Take a note or send them away.
It is Miss Reid, sir.
DISTANT DOG BARKS
Lock Captain Jackson down. Two men on the outer door also.
What is it you do, Captain?
Attack of conscience, Reid, and you can save your gratitude for later.
And why am I grateful that you too are now incarcerated?
Why do you think?
Not that you deserve it, but we're going to break you out of here.
Will you come upstairs so we may talk?
In due course, perhaps.
For now, I would see my father.
Drum, you may take a moment
to consider the consequences of denying me this,
but do not take any longer.
DOOR RATTLES AND CREAKS
Thank you, Drum. As I said, alone.
I shall wait beyond.
Hammer on the door when you are done, Tilda.
Father. Darling girl.
Are you hurt? What that man did... Hush, Mathilda. I shall live.
My candle. It was not myself to have lit it.
I know. I know, Mathilda.
Mr Drummond is not a man much able to disguise his shame.
He told you? Not as such.
But he bears it hard, my darling.
Hey, my heart bleeds for him, really, but, Miss Reid,
do you think it's about time we got about our chief purpose?
No, no. No.
No, I am not for the freeing, Mathilda.
Excuse me? No more running, no more, no more.
But, Miss Susan, she explained all to me.
No, no. Not all.
The man, Buckley, perhaps.
Her father, Theodore Swift, I can never regret that.
But think on your Uncle Bennet and all I brought him to.
Mathilda, an accounting must be made.
And now you're happy to let me hang alongside you,
when I bust my ass in here to free you?
On that matter, it is my own strategy, Captain,
and I very much hope it shan't come to that.
And that strategy being what?
Francis Thatcher is gone to exhume the body of Robin Sumner.
I thought you said you left that boy to rest.
He rests. Augustus Dove prevails.
Now, he may rest in due course again,
but it is that boy who will give his own tragedy...
His family is here, Bennet Drake's, Isaac Bloom's.
It is that boy who will hand them their justice,
even if I am handed mine alongside.
And how is the boy to do that, Reid? That boy cannot speak.
The dead can always speak, Captain, when you are there to aid them.
BIRDS TWEET, CARRIAGE APPROACHES
My apologies, brother. I have left you alone too long.
I thought we might eat together.
Last night, as we came under attack, you broke down your door.
You did this so you might assist my people?
I heard the pup calling.
And yet you did not protect him?
Well, the Captain, he...
he had a pistol.
And besides... Besides what, brother?
Miss Susan is his mother.
She is a murderer, Nathaniel.
So am I, Gustus.
Do you recall the boy Robin Sumner?
DOGS BARK OUTSIDE
Miss Susan told me...
he is, in fact, not safe,
but he is dead.
And she knows this how?
Captain found him in water...
..at Goodluck Hope.
How dead, did these most valued witnesses say?
..by you, they believe.
And what do you believe, Nathaniel?
You, who have known me your entire life.
Do you truly believe I could do that to a pup?
Now, we are almost home.
Edmund Reid lies in a cell at Leman Street, his spirit broken.
The woman Hart and her American must now escape with their child
and will surely be taken in so doing.
It will be Christmas before we know it.
We shall fill the house with food and gifts and friends
and give thanks for the future ahead of us.
HE BREATHES HARD
RUNNING WATER, CROWS CAW
HE BREATHES HARD
I will fear no evil...
..for thou art with me,
thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
HE BREATHES HARD
How did you know where to find him, Sergeant?
Mr Reid told me where.
And what will you do with him now?
Get him his retribution.
An admirable instinct, Mr Thatcher.
A policeman's instinct.
You have saved me a great deal of trouble.
I should have been here all night otherwise.
It is a faster current here... GROANS
..and the course runs direct.
Do you see?
The pilot lights at Limehouse Cut.
The Thames running on the spring tide and, beyond, the ocean.
As you sought to show Robin Sumner his path in life,
you will lead him on in death now.
HE BREATHES HARD
HE BREATHES HARD
HE BREATHES HARD
Whichever road Thatcher took, he's late.
He is way, way late.
Yeah, they're waiting for me, you know? My wife, my boy.
For you too, if you need a ride.
We have the guns, we have the dynamite, Reid.
We might...just go.
Whatever has happened, whatever is coming, I cannot explain it.
But I...I must be here to see it.
But I am in earnest, Captain.
You go. Go now.
And let you martyr yourself all alone?
BIRDS TWEET OUTSIDE
KNOCK AT DOOR
Mr Dove, sir, your carriage is here.
God damn you, silence!
So that the newspapermen of London may be furnished with the truth,
Assistant Commissioner Dove will now elaborate.
Thank you, Commissioner.
It is with regret I must announce the death
of Inspector First Class Jedediah Shine of H Division, Whitechapel.
How do you respond to rumours...
Please. CHATTER PAUSES
Mr Shine was as fine and resourceful a policeman
as any this force has known. He will be mourned accordingly.
I need hardly mention how hard this goes on the morale of our men,
who only so recently lost Inspector Bennet Drake of the same division.
Is there any connection between... How did Inspector Drake meet his end, though?
Inspector Shine's last action... CHATTER PAUSES
..was to secure the arrest of Edmund Reid,
and whilst...and whilst I know that man's reputation was hard won,
I hope that you will take in good faith the charges
which the men of H Division will soon be presenting
against their one-time station chief.
Charges? How does this reflect on the force as a whole, sir?
Let me say only this.
None of the speculation carried in your pages
is far from the truth of the matter.
And should the courts, as I expect them to do, find Edmund Reid guilty,
no matter his years of service,
we will be urging for the most severe of penalties under the law.
Commissioner Bradford. Can this indeed be true?
You would send one of your own to the rope?
We would, Miss Castello.
With ever greater conviction,
given the vile and headstrong hypocrisy he has sanctioned and performed in our name.
You are Castello?
Good day, Mr Abberline.
Come away, Miss.
You heard? I did.
Then you understand why I wired you.
I hoped you might be prised from your retirement.
Ed Reid is to be hanged.
That hair-oiled smooth face back there,
that is the Mr Dove you wrote of?
I fear he now has the wherewithal to prevail.
There are none left to challenge him.
There is you, Miss.
But all I had accumulated of his story,
the murdered Rabbi Ratovski's own written account, I believe...
..Mr Shine destroyed it.
Then best we put it together again.
Where is Francis Thatcher?
Gone, as you ask. No man knows where.
Mathilda, why does the whereabouts of Frank Thatcher worry you so?
I'm not sure I want to tell you, Drum.
After all, I know what it is you do with the secrets I give you.
I would take it back, if I could.
I am sure.
But not for him.
All them things Mr Reid is said to have done, he done.
I know. So, he must face his punishment.
I understand, Drum.
I did it for you, Tilda.
Because I wanted...
I still only want for you and I to be able to walk clean of this mess,
for you, for once, to be able to stand atop the building of your life
and look outward from it,
not forever be casting your gaze back inside,
for the fear it might catch fire again.
And he is the building, you feel?
I mean, is he not?
Yard, son! Pipe down!
Where's your chief?
On another occasion the men of H Division would gladly welcome you,
but, as you might have heard, we are sorely pressed at the present moment.
This is Inspector Drummond.
This is him?
The milksop with whom you bring yourself into shame and disrepute?
Looks like he might battle to blow the head off a pint of mild.
this is my command
and I'd ask you why you've brung yourself here, today of all days.
I would see my friend,
before you and your master have his neck choked at Newgate.
Tilda, it is not I that will pass that sentence on him, as you know,
nor Mr Dove.
He agitates for it, however.
I will not. It is prohibited.
What is it you do, Drum?
What else? Alert Mr Dove to this man's presence.
You do it, sonny. I should be glad to know him.
DOORS CREAK SHUT
Who are you?
Wait, wait. Wait.
Shut up! Gaah!
Aaah! Be quiet. Be quiet!
Nathaniel! Nathaniel, you leave her be.
Will you...will you take Connor?
And leave you here? He is a friend.
You brought him here?
Miss Susan, you told me
and I had to ask him,
because he...he is my brother.
But, Gustus, he swore,
no, he hadn't,
and how could I believe this of him?
But I watched and I followed him...
..and I saw him, he put a bullet in that copper Thatcher.
He put 'em both in the river, but I swum out and I brought Robin back.
Oh, why did you bring him to me?
I've no-one else to go to...
..and I feel as...
as though something should be done
and Robin should be shown to someone as proof.
Augustus must be punished?
Because he has killed.
So have you, Nathaniel.
But not a pup.
Never a pup.
Killing is killing...
..if Augustus must be punished...
..then you must.
All who kill...
must be punished.
I'm frightened, Miss Susan.
..perhaps I ought to go with you?
Thank you. Thank you, sir.
You did right to send for me, Inspector.
This him, then, is it?
On another occasion, I should be grateful to meet you
and account for actions we here have taken
which I understand must surely fill you with horror.
But, our force, we comrades cannot be seen to fight among ourselves.
My, but you are silky and oiled, boy.
However, I'm not in your force no more
and even were I still, I would not call you my brother-man.
Then, sir, I think Inspector Drummond must have his men
escort you from these premises.
You men, with me.
Good afternoon, Mr Dove.
Inspector Drummond, my name is Caitlin Swift,
and I wish to surrender myself to the police.
My name is Nathaniel Croker...
..and I too wish to surrender myself to the police.
For what crime?
I'm sorry, Gustus.
I do not know you, sir.
Murder. PEOPLE TALK
Whose? RAISED VOICES
Rabbi Leon Ratovski.
whose names I did not know...
..and Mr Drake.
He known to you, is he, Mr Dove?
I do not know this man.
Get 'em in. Men!
Get them in, all of them! Now!
Mathilda? What is it? What do you do?
Father, I think you must come.
Just follow procedures, Mr Drummond.
All confessions to be writ, signed and witnessed.
Renshaw! Yes, sir.
You keep away! Right?
You keep away. Nathaniel.
They must see him.
Who is this boy? Gustus.
Yes, Mr Dove.
You know. GUN COCKS
I'll kill you, you son of a bitch. It is not worth the blood.
You taught him...
that he was the beast, did you not?
And that make you more able to suppress and disguise
your own monstrosity?
Take control of your station house, Inspector!
Barely have I known you ten minutes, boy,
and already the sound of your voice makes me want to shit!
You see, your station house has been overtaken by its prisoners.
You are not to blame. You were overwhelmed, at gunpoint...
..and your captors then locked down the station house around you.
I knew chaos and horror long before I came to Whitechapel.
Augustus knew it all.
You're going to leave her be, Drummond.
Caitlin! Think of what you and I once found.
You are needed here, Mr Reid.
Police. H Division.
With Reid locked in the cells of Leman Street police station, all hope seems lost. Jedediah Shine is dead and Augustus Dove appears to have won the battle for Whitechapel. But is there time for one last roll of the dice? Jackson and Long Susan prepare to leave London for good - having finally prised their son, Connor, from Augustus Dove's Hackney abode. Freedom is almost in sight, but can the pair bring themselves to leave Reid behind?