03x07 - Live Free, Live True

You shot him, Mr. Reid, in defence.

[Breathing heavily]

The, uh, bearer bonds...

What of them?

Where are they?

'Tis, um... a mystery.

Why are you bringing this to me?

Have you really forgot what the name Theodore Patrick Swift, your father-in-law, means?

You think, what, Susan was involved in this?

Does this buy back a life?

Bennet: I fear for us.

I fear we shall lose each other again.

You saved me.

You're not supposed to start until tomorrow.

Jackson: I want to know if I can see it, see the evil that has come to roost in you.

[Dog barking, glass clinks]

[Knocks on door]

Well? Do you have it?

It has made me grievous ill, sir.

That is only to be expected.

[Stifled] Mm.

[Muffled gagging]

[Coughing]

[Dry retching]

[Groans]

[Panting rapidly]

[Whistle blowing]

[Coughing, heaving]

[Panting, retching]

What awful poison has he given ya?

I beg you, no more of this.

You must to work.

I can't. I won't leave you.

We must carry on as always.

You go to work, as always.

You have your tea, and your smoke, and you play a hand, as always.

Still you will not tell me?

What b*st*rd had his way with ya?

I will not.

For your own sake, I will not.

There is too much to lose.

Man: Mr. Havelock! Tait's arrived!

Oi. Oi! What the bloody hell time you call this, eh?

You clock off Saturday, half the afternoon gone, now you come in an hour late.

And I've got the governor in asking why we're behind.

Mary's been ill.

I didn't like to leave her.

You will make up that time.

Havelock: Mary! Mary!

No.

No. No. No, you must away.

He must not find you here. He told you! No!

[Whimpers] He told you, no.

[Crying]

But I went against him, after all he's given me. So much care.

And I have brought all this trouble to his door.

If he should be discovered, the fault is mine.

Discovered? Discovered how?

You must away.

There must be no more grief, lest he be found out.

I don't understand. What do you mean?

And so I will have ended it all, all he has built, This happiness found at last.

[Crying]

[Indistinct conversations]

Bennet: A Mr. Currie, chemist... no longer available to dispense medicine.

It is too soon. You have not yet recovered, sir.

I am not yet in need of a chair, nor a nurse.

Oh, indeed? You are perfectly well?

A man lately shot in the head... of course.

Why on earth you've come back to this rough old game, I do not know.

You have made your point, Bennet.

Then let us get back to this game.

I will not ask why it is in your pocket and not yet on her finger.

How?

This, then?

[Sighs]

A robbery?

But what's there to rob here?

What chemist leaves a bottle unmarked?

One who is sure of its contents.

[Sighs]

This is the last.

Pushed deep, hard, with fingers... jammed in with... forced.

Made to eat his own money, then... to choke upon it.

No, that's not what killed him.

One blow to the head did that for him first.

Heavy weapon, crude, but effective.

And this man is killed, yet the rage unrelieved must be satisfied... some... outrage still to be expressed, some disgust pertaining to money.

This... have you determined its contents?

Pretty potion it is.

Pennyroyal, Spanish fly.

Brings on miscarriage.

So our man here was an abortionist.

But these are home remedies, two a penny... nothing to kill for.

This is where it gets strange.

This compound of Currie's... heavy presence of lead.

Brings on damage to the brain, nerves, abdominal trauma.

This poisoning could be fatal?

Worst case, coma and death.

So, some boy got his girl in trouble, they saw an end to it, she got poisoned violently, mortally even, by this chemist, who, insult to injury, charged them for it.

And so he kills the callous son of a bitch, takes those notes, every one he paid, and rams them down his throat.

We must find this girl, whatsoever her fate.

With her, her lad.

The chemist's book, sir. There's an apprentice was paid.

He will have gone to ground. You find him.

Drake, check the morgues for any more victims.

I shall go to the Obsidian Clinic.

If she has survived, no doubt she would have ended up there.

I am here as policeman, not patient.

You are a patient yet, and should not be a policeman for some while.

You are sleeping?

No.

Double vision?

Headaches?

No.

Yes. Yes, on occasion.

Um, we seek the murderer of a chemist.

Are they severe, the headaches?

Some, one or two, yes.

Uh, this chemist we believe a practitioner of abortion, And you, I imagine, would have cause to treat such a man's clients.

Push against me.

You grow stronger.

Then may I be a policeman for a moment?

No. I do not treat them.

I repair them.

I patch them up.

I apply a piecemeal dressing to an ever-growing wound, And the wound itself never heals.

These women, these unhappy creatures, they come to me for help, This is their word for it.

And like any doctor in this city, I could end their troubles safely, easily.

But it is illegal, So I must turn them away to be mangled and shredded by these quacks, criminals of the backstreets and side alleys.

And then they come to me after... and I must make good the wretched work.

And then they come to me again... pregnant again... and I can neither treat them, nor teach them, for to speak of contraception is obscene in the eyes of the law.

Forgive me, Inspector, I am maddened by it.

These particular women, this chemist's clients, they were given lead.

Indeed.

I've had four cases of lead poisoning.

I knew nothing of it, then I read of a case in Sheffield, A spate of miscarriages, and lead found in the water supply the cause.

The women there took to using it, for lead is easy to procure.

Near death, all four of my patients, all damaged beyond repair, for they also suffered physical procedures, so many times...

"Procedures," by which you mean precisely...?

The use of instruments in internal intervention.

So this chemist, he uses both instrument and powder?

Yes. This is something beyond.

These women... these unfortunates. I would speak to them.

Would you give me their names, please?

They do not tell me their true names.

They come here on promise of secrecy.

We ask no questions, else they would not come, And then there would be no hope for them at all.

[Door closes]

I come to hear your answer.

My answer is yes.

I knew you would not disappoint me.

My favourite pupil... your courage always delighted me.

I speak only for myself.

My patron, Miss Hart, must be persuaded.

Then we shall discuss how.

[Taps roof]

[Whip cracks, horse whinnies]

Man: Your tough boy put you out on the street, Rosie?

[Laughs]

Woman: What did you do, girl?

Woman: Woah.

I've arrived. My bag's unpacked.

What is it you seek?

Papers, tenements, construction agreement.

You're running.

This room makes me ill.

I believe the contractors take advantage now Capshaw is gone.

They see me defenceless and choose their moment.

They mean to take control of the tenement expansion.

But what can you do?

How, stand alone against these men?

I did not endure that devil man to be brought to naught.

[Breathes deeply]

I shall master this work.

I shall make a study of this world, its workings all.

For fangs, I may have none, but I have a mind, and it is sharper, its edge keener, than any tooth, any blade.

First, I must find the original agreement.

[Moaning, coughing]

Leave now, lest George comes back and finds ya.

[Whimpering]

If he should be discovered...

[Groaning]

[Panting and whimpering]

What's your secret then, Tait?

[Moaning and whimpering continues]

[Groaning]

[Groaning, panting]

I am afraid, Edward.

I am afraid.

I don't care what you and Tait are hiding.

You must have a doctor, else you will die.

You are apprentice to the murdered chemist, Currie. The abortionist, Currie.

Who would have cause to kill this man?

What do you know of it, boy?

I don't know anything, sir.

I mind the shop is all.

[Gate slams]

Two in the morgue, lead poisoning, unidentified as yet.

Mr. Currie, then, guilty of murder.

I don't know anything, sir!

Chalk dust, cut with lead for the purposes of miscarriage.

Did you... dilute these powders, apprentice?

I do, sir. But they are useless compounds that I make.

Then it will do you no harm to taste a little.

[Breathing shakily]

Now, boy, you will tell me what you know.

I mind the shop, sir! That is all.

The women would come, and Mr. Currie would send them on. I never knew their names.

Mr. Currie would send them on for their procedures.

Sent them on to who? There were others involved?

Who carried out these acts?!

I don't know, sir. I was never told such things.

These men, boy, mutilated these women.

They poisoned them.

Some they killed, and some there may yet be whose lives hang in the balance.

Now you will tell me who these men are.

One is dead, but others remain, and if one more girl dies in their care, You are to blame!

I don't know, sir. I swear, I was not told.

I swear, sir, on my mother's life!

I cannot say what I do not know!

Only the address!

Yes!

The address!

Sutherland Buildings, Number 4! Number 4!

[Spits, panting]

Now, then.

One may cut chalk dust with anything...

Sugar, even.

[Sighs]

I'd expected this backstreet to hold a back room.

This is a surgery.

Interesting.

[Sniffs]

Why have they blacked out the labels?

Multiple visits, multiple payments, guaranteed profit.

That was my thinking. But money has been spent here.

Why? To what end?

What backstreet amateur intent on filling his purse cares to create such a place?

This is no amateur concern.

This is a... facility.

Why use lead... crude, violent application... when you have this?

So a lot of business was done here.

Business that Mr. Currie was murdered for.

He might have discovered it, threatened to expose it.

Or was he a liability?

And each of these women made repeated visits.

They've given their names here. They trusted these men.

And here...

Their hard-spent coin.

200 guineas, at least there.

A strongbox.

They leave their money in this bag.

Begs a question, does it not?

What, then, do they keep in their safe?

Miss Hart, my mentor, Dr. Rolle.

Madam, you are generous with your time.

I'm under no illusion as to the demand upon you.

Hm.

I am listening.

Miss Hart, I do not mean to appear ungrateful... but I am disheartened.

Gravely so.

Everyday it seems, I mow down the noxious weeds... but the roots remain, and the plant only grows again.

Speak plainly, hm?

Dr. Rolle, he is a member of the Malthusian League.

I'm not aware of it.

It is an organisation devoted to the education of women in the matter of contraception.

There is a clinic in Holland where we offer such advice.

The Dutch, they are much advanced in this field.

I would give my women the information they need, but I would give them more.

I would give them the help they beg for... safe procedure.

You mean to offer abortion at the clinic.

Absolutely not.

It is illegal.

The law is an ass.

Recognise, of course, that there are dangers.

We believe the risk worth taking.

And there we part company, sir.

The demands upon me, as you put it, are legitimate.

They must be, for I am a woman in a man's business.

And there is no slack to the rope that they allow me.

Not even to hang myself.

I'm sorry you have had a wasted journey.

Forgive my impudence.

You do not know the man you refuse.

He has, from the first, encouraged me, My medical education fraught with prejudice.

He saw the talents of a woman, and nurtured them.

Well, I applaud it, but my answer remains the same.

Thank you again for your time. Good day, Miss Hart.

Of course... she need never know.

[Door opens]

Reid: Jackson, this strongbox... its contents are a primary concern.

[Whistles]

Thomas Yale, single dial, simple, elegant. Beautiful.

Enough appreciation. Can you crack it?

No. Then, I guess if I had 65 hours...

It's a highly complex procedure.

Well, the Pinkerton, it seems, is no Peterman.

If I could crack safes the way you crack walnuts... with your bare skull, I'd be riding The Oriental First Class to Yokohama right now.

In short, you cannot gain access to this strongbox?

I didn't say that...

Not when there's gunpowder.

Jackson, you will not damage the contents of this safe.

You will keep them pristine. They are key.

Did I say gelignite? No, I said gunpowder.

Have a little faith.

Be quick at it, then. And these, these bottles...

What do they contain that their contents must be hidden?

You have your work cut out, Captain.

Well, it's just as well I'm out of bourbon, then.

I have something for you in return, nonetheless.

The strike that killed the chemist went deep, and the brain matter's been burnt.

It's a chemical burn caused by a strong caustic alkali.

The shop was full of chemicals.

No, these are elements chemists don't deal in.

There's calcium silicate, calcium sulphate.

It suggests to me, uh, uh, Portland cement.

Mortar?

The weapon was a tool... a builder.

Sergeant, construction sites.

Yes, sir.

We were called to a disturbance at a site not long since.

Obsidian Tenements.

Here. Affray.

Mr. Edwin Havelock, accused of assault, but charges were not brought.

Where is the ledger from the Sutherland Buildings?

Mm-hmm.

Sergeant, Duncan...

Havelock. Mrs. Mary Havelock.

What is affray?

Thilda? Where's Mrs. Forbes?

You are alone?

Well, I-I'm escaped.

You do not go about alone.

You do not wander the streets unprotected.

Drake, will you go to Obsidian Tenement to question Mrs. Havelock?

I have business of my own to be answered.

Yes, sir.

[Snaps fingers] Come here.

Take this note to Miss Cobden and bring her back with you.

Do not return without her.

[Indistinct shouting]

Bennet!

I wish to inform you of my new address, for I've left the Morton house.

Miss Susan's taken me in.

I'm now a resident at Obsidian, should you need... wish to send for me.

You lodge with Miss Hart? I cannot be glad at that.

She is my friend.

She's friend only to herself and her own interests.

She has ever been good to me, and you've no call to speak as though...

I would not have you living there.

I must to work. A man has been murdered.

Please, Rose, trust me in this.

I think only of your happiness.

I shall send to you later. Let us walk out together.

I am police. Inspector Drake.

I seek a Mr. Edwin Havelock.

We fear for his wife, Mary.

He's not married.

You are?

George Tait, sir.

Don't know where he is. He's been gone all day.

This Mary, then... you know her?

She's his girl?

I do not know his affairs, sir.

You see him, You tell Mr. Havelock we're looking for him.

Good day to you, Mr. Tait.

Well Edmund... as you see, I am come.

I had, after all, little choice in the matter.

Forgive my roughness, Jane, you will I think understand.

Hello, Mathilda.

Edmund, how is it she is here?

She will not abide Mrs. Forbes, our governess.

She has escaped her, come here of her own volition, unchaperoned, through these streets.

She will, I think, willingly stay with you again, if you will watch her for me.

You may always depend upon me, Edmund.

Only do not, I beg of you, presume.

I do not know what else to do.

Whom else should I ask?

You must ask yourself.

Why is it she escapes her governess?

Why come here? Why find you?

It is because she must be near you, her daddy.

And you must always be with the dead of Whitechapel.

I cannot imagine what it is that keeps you here, Edmund, but you must discard this notion, however flattering to yourself, that the souls of this ward all depend upon your protection.

In truth, there is only one.

Her needs are your only concern.

Her happiness, her health, her schooling.

Look to it, Edmund.

Mary! Mary!

My girl.

Shall I die?

Only... I feel peril is close... and I can't leave George.

Father and mother he's been to me.

Will he ever forgive me?

You will not die. I've made sure of it.

But there is grief for you.

I shall never have a child more, shall I?

[Crying]

Who were these men?

Who is this doctor who hurt you? Will you not name him?

Are you the man who's brought her to this pass?

Mary! Mary Tait! My daughter!

You.

Oh, no... but you had to have her...

George!

[Screams]

No!

You have her then, did ya?! Show her you did!

You're the man!

[Sobbing]

[Indistinct arguing]

Shut your mouth! Both of you will be quiet!

[Arguing stops]

Sir, a young lady, brought in, in much distress, Lead poisoning, haemorrhaging.

This man, a Mr. George Tait... I've met him before.

Her father, it seems.

Assaults this, a Mr. Edwin Havelock, Him having seduced the young lady [Screams] and brought her to this trouble.

She is too ill to be moved.

Dr. Frayn forbids questioning.

Her life in peril.

Mr. Havelock, we've been looking for you.

Mr. Glynn! Mr. Glynn! You will explain yourself.

You have trebled your terms.

These dwellings, Mr. Glynn, are intended for the working poor of our parish, and you would turn a profit at their expense.

These sums are extortion. They are not as agreed.

Nothing was agreed, for poor Mr. Capshaw, your sulphurous solicitor, met his well-deserved fate long before ink had met paper.

You shook hands on the deal yourself with Mr. Capshaw.

It was a gentlemen's agreement.

Or are you not a gentleman?

Or does a gentleman take his advantage?

No, I think not.

[Sighs]

If I must explain to you, madam, that it is the very nature of business to take one's advantage, then my convictions as to the fitness of ladies for the pursuit of commercial affairs remain unshaken.

I'm afraid, madam, that a contract unsigned is not a contract.

Find yourself another Capshaw and desist from this dabbling in men's work.

No, Mr. Glynn. I shall find no other.

I shall be my own Mr. Capshaw.

And when you meet me next, you will wish for that smooth assassin back, for he will seem a lamb.

Mr. Edwin Havelock, Mary Tait, pregnant by you, sought a termination from the chemist, Currie, and suffered grievously for it.

The man, Currie, now dead, at your hand in revenge for her suffering.

What? No.

No, I haven't killed anyone.

Your quarrel with Mr. Tait... what is the nature of it?

He refused me! He refused me Mary.

I-I asked permission to court her, and he denied me.

And court her you did and more. You seduced her and began this whole sorry tale.

I saved her life.

I found her in her own home, his own, mind, with the blood running out of her.

But she won't have a doctor.

"No," she says, "or all will be discovered."

That's her words. So you ask him, right.

You ask him why his precious girl would rather die than give him away.

Mathilda: What is that?

Gunpowder.

Chinese, naturally.

Mathilda: And does it not belong in here?

Huh?

Jesus!

Gimme that!

Little girl, you can not be in here.

Reid, your child's loose!

Grace.

Come now, Miss Reid, you must stay upstairs, as your pa said.

[Locks door]

My Rose, your Bennet, you sought him out?

Do you wonder still at his intentions?

I have no doubt, he means to make me his wife.

This is a sad smile, indeed.

Mm.

But of course, as song bird of Blewett's, she shall sing no more.

She shall be in her nest, feeding her chicks.

And can a woman not be a mother and a singer?

[Sighs]

I think that must depend on the husband.

[Sighs]

Sometimes, I'm more complicated to think on than the old life.

[Chuckles]

Mm.

I confess there are times when I would gladly give up this grand palace and go back to the old rotten cathouse.

Mmm!

Yes!

My friends around me, my hopes, for awhile, fulfilled.

Come now!

And enjoy the attentions of Mr. Fitzroy, Mr. Lloyd?

[Laughs]

Those... salty, groping wretches, so full of their own importance?

[Laughs]

All their business, all their dealings.

I... I couldn't understand a word half the time.

[Chuckles]

All those men, telling all their secrets.

Mr. Nathaniel Glynn.

Do you remember him?

How could I forget?

Which girl did he favour? Remind me.

Lily.

And poor Lily... he favours her still.

[Chuckles]

Jackson: The powder will blow the lock mechanism...

Jackson: The weight of the machine will, at the same moment, release the door, I believe.

Did we not pay for that machine at great expense?

We did, sir.

Horrible clackety racket of a thing... never use it.

You are sure, Captain Jackson, This operation will not destroy the safe, its contents, this room, and half my station house?

I'm not sure.

Jackson, you will master this paperwork.

What am I your secretary now?

You are my medic, are you not?

And this, I believe, is medical work.

Jackson.

Jackson, you will not leave this room until you have conned the meaning of these papers.

Be quick at it. For there are two lines of inquiry that now separate before us.

The quarrel between Edwin Havelock and George Tait, over the girl Mary, the victim of Mr. Currie. How their dispute touches upon his murder is unclear.

But this... this medical facility.

God only knows what villainy is made there.

Man: We're moving the prisoner now, sir!

Mr. George Tait, sir.

Mary Tait he describes as his daughter, born 1875.

There's no birth certificate for a Mary Tait of Whitechapel, No record of her, nor of him, the father.

Might he have adopted her?

There's no evidence of that, sir, no legal account of it.

Indeed, I'm hard-pushed to find much legal account of George Tait at all.

He has no rate book for his property, sir.

Indeed, the address he has given, he calls it Shelley Walk, but I cannot find the street.

There is a patch of wasteland, Shelly's Ground, and on it some poor dwellings... self-made.

He is a squatter.

My belief, sir, is that you are looking at a man, as lives his entire life outside of the law.

[Cell door opens]

Can you tell me, sir? I'm anxious for my Mary.

Can you tell me how she fares?

We will bring news of her, but she's not your daughter, as you claim.

Not by blood.

But I've been her protector for five years, since she was 15.

You are a brick setter, Hm? An ordinary man.

Yes, sir.

No, Mr. Tait, not ordinary.

For you do not officially exist.

You are a convict, perhaps.

But I see no mark.

Or an absconder, fled from the army.

Navy?

No, sir.

A convict I never was.

Though a prisoner, surely.

Absconded, fled?

No, but escaped.

I've never sailed the sea, sir.

I've never left the bounds of this borough.

But I've been to places I've thought never to see.

[Clears throat] I do not like riddles, Mr. Tait.

It stands thus... you are an illegitimate man With an illegitimate relation to a girl, A girl who is alone in this world and at your mercy.

Let me put this to you.

You took your pleasure off her, and she fell pregnant, but the solution to this evidence of your violation proved unspeakably brutal, her sufferings unimaginable, so in your remorse and your guilt, you... you killed the man. The chemist, Currie, the practitioner of this...

Violate?

Oh, sir, you don't know what you say.

Oh, my only thought in life to spare her, save her from the vile attentions of men and the sorrowful consequences upon her.

And you would kill for her, would you, this precious girl?

No, sir. I'm no a killer.

Madam!

Madam!

You can't come in here.

This is a gentleman's club.

There are strict rules.

[Indistinct discussions]

Mr. Nathaniel Glynn, a works contractor who reneges on his contracts.

But you will not renege on our contract.

No, you will sign it now, in front of your fine friends and associates.

The price is as at first agreed.

Madam, you must leave here at once.

Or should I inform these good gentlemen of the false terms under which you have engaged their investments?

The Witham Fields Land Deal, for example.

Hmm, you sold the land at a premium on the promise of rents of ã3,000 a year, This on the assumption of interest from the East End Dwellings Company for the building of their model dwellings...

What of it?

...when you had already been advised by Mr. Trafford as to the unsuitability of the land for construction.

I have the letter here, dated 2nd of February, withdrawing their interest.

How did you come by that?

Hmm.

This woman has lost her wits to come to this place, to believe she may dictate terms to me. [Chuckles]

You may dismiss me, gentlemen, as a one-time runner of saloon whores, but I remember many a face in this room.

[Man clears throat]

Be advised that the secrets you spilled in my stews to the faceless girls from whom you took your pleasure... the boastings and vauntings you made in your cups... now belong to me, to dispense as I see fit.

[Blows ink dry]

Best: You have been too much at the oysters, Miss Hart. or is it the port wine has turned your stomach?

Oh, I do not blame you.

I should seek oblivion myself, if I were you.

State your business.

Theodore Swift.

Your father is my business.

He's none of mine.

He has dissolved his businesses, liquidated his assets, his houses in New York, Newport, Chicago, swathed in dust sheets, void of life.

If you mean to vomit again, pray mind my shoes.

I know nothing of it.

Theodore P. Swift... hounded out of this very life, forced to wander the boundless seas... forced to find sanctuary for his ill-gotten money.

Where, oh, where might he find safe haven.

Of all the world's glittering cities, which might he choose to call home?

He will get no welcome here.

I have no converse with the man, nor mean to.

He is the furthest, coldest stranger to me.

But never for long, Miss Hart, not if he has his way.

You find him at you door, send word.

I should be much obliged.

Did someone in 'ere send for a strawberry ice?

No.

No? Oh, I shall take it back then.

Uncle Bennet!

Must I stay in here all day?

It's very boring.

Eat up girl, else it will be a strawberry melt.

[Sniffs]

What do you make of this...

"A convict I never was, but a prisoner.

I've never left these streets, but I've been to places I never thought to see."

What is it?

It is a riddle.

Not a convict, but a prisoner.

A prisoner who has committed no crime.

That's right...

[Exhales]

Places I never thought to see...

Yeah.

Little girl, you can't be in here.

Is it a girl?

[Chuckles] I don't think so, my dear.

I have done nothing wrong, and I'm made to sit in rooms all day, and doors are shut upon me.

It is why I must escape always.

It's why I must run from Mrs. Forbes.

And I'm always told, "This is no place for you, little girl."

Donald, Mr. Tait's personal effects.

Ta.

I shall keep hold of this, if I may.

[Door opens]

You come to restate your case?

Miss Hart, If you could know the despair of these women.

To give them some agency, that their lives should not be entirely beyond their control...

I would remind you, Miss Hart, that I once rendered service to you, unquestioningly, and in that made myself an accessory to a black deed that I have not spoken of thus far.

You need say no more.

You need not stoop so low.

My thinking has changed.

Has met your own.

I will match your courage, Dr. Frayn.

I will fund this endeavour.

You have taken the wind from my sails.

Y-you spoke so strongly.

Your need to be... legitimate.

Legitimacy... it is a promise that is a lie.

The promise of inclusion, but it's true purpose is to exclude, to control.

I am pregnant, Dr. Frayn, and unmarried.

[Breathing shakily]

Is it not delicious? [Scoffs]

Had I stayed a madam, I should have done as I pleased in this matter.

But I wished to be respectable.

It seems I must choose my prison.

These are records of medical procedures.

This is a case study.

It describes four treatments, each time a different instrument.

But records that at the end of these four visits, her bleeding is still not brought on, for that is not the purpose of this work.

The purpose of this work is not treatment, but research.

My thinking is this.

A woman comes to this man for help, but he only pretends to treat her.

In fact, he conducts his research only at last giving her what she's asked for, once he's gotten what he needs from her.

Then these are experiments?

These are experiments upon living subjects, and unknown to them.

I can't fathom it, there's not enough to go on here... but whatever it is he seeks, he's not done.

He records here that he's not yet satisfied, that he requires more cases, A greater and larger practice.

Who is this man? Can we know? He's a doctor, clearly.

I'm ahead of you. Here.

I found this invoice amongst his papers, an order made to a Dutch company, Alder Smits.

Grace can wire Tilbury Docks.

[Cell door closes]

Here's some strange reading, Mr. Tait.

Will you hear it?

Yes, sir.

"An inquest was held on the body of a labouring man.

It transpired that the deceased, known as Harry Stokes, was in reality a woman, named Harriet Stokes... had for 30 years worked as a coal heaver."

Strange tale indeed, sir.

"A convict I never was, but a prisoner.

I never left these streets, but I've been to places I never thought to see."

You fled the bounds of a woman's life.

You put on a man's clothes.

You were free to do as you please, go to places you would not else be welcome.

And Mary... you meant to save her, too, from the perils of a woman's existence.

But they caught her nonetheless.

The injustice of it, that she should fall into the hands of a man like Currie.

And just as you'd built your own life, so you served your own justice on him.

[Shakily] You are fantastic, sir, in your thinking.

And this little girl...

[Sighs]

...who I first imagined to be your sister... is in fact yourself.

[Crying]

And this... this fine lady, your good mother.

Praise her.

You have unmanned me.

Oh, my mother.

[Sighs]

12 children she had.

Year on year, they ripped their path through her and into the world.

My father unheeding, insisting on his rights.

I ask you, who would be a woman?

Who would be a wife?

[Sighs]

My Mary, ah...

[Breathes deeply]

...I fought to find her the best husband or none at all.

But he found her out, this villain.

This Havelock, this wide-mouthed swaggerer.

[Sighs]

I saw no quality in him, no patience.

I saw my father in him, and I told him, no, but still he must have her.

Oh, such a sweetness in her.

Tenderest heart, now fallen.

She thought to solve it, that I might never know.

[Sniffles]

She claimed illness.

Only at the very last did she confess...

I... I could not... unmake it.

I couldn't go back.

See her through it.

[Sighs]

She bore it all alone.

[Sighs]

...devastated, destroyed by these men she went to for help.

"Tart," he called her... the chemist, the man Currie.

After all he did to her, after all she suffered, and I battered him for it. And I don't regret it.

For he'll hurt no girl more.

My only sorrow is that I didn't kill 'em both.

For you have murdered me!

But I am the man will hang for it!

I must ask you your true name.

Sarah Elizabeth James.

Sarah Elizabeth James...

I charge you with the murder of Chemist John Currie.

[Door opens]

Reid: Jackson, Mary Tait, made barren by these men, this poor girl.

Could her wreck be our answer, the key to this surgeon we seek?

These... potassium hydroxide, hydrogen peroxide, lactic acid... it's a birth control, but all methods are found wanting... because the experiments were to go further.

Beyond termination?

Sir, Alder Smits, Tilbury.

A consignment came in for delivery to Obsidian Clinic for the attention of Dr. Amelia Frayn.

[Sighs]

Well, then, let us to work.

Procedure I believe I have now perfected.

A significant advance.

The patient suffers few complications.

The treatment is absolute.

W-what you describe here... it is sterilisation.

We spoke of safe treatment, contraception, but you intend sterilisation.

The prevention of unwanted pregnancy is our common aim, is it not?

I-I thought we understood one another.

If we are to staunch this rascal multitude, this overrunning, we must then eradicate the breeding population.

And is it not logical, that the most careless should be the first?

I would remind you, sir, that you speak of human beings.

And you would have me believe that all human beings are equal.

That the creatures of Whitechapel, are comparable to myself, my wife, yourself?

These incontinent men and women... they can not be taught. They can not be trusted.

Abstinence, chastity... these are unknown virtues, and so they breed.

Poverty, sickness, a million gaping mouths demanding to be fed, and in their hunger... sedition, rebellion, revolution.

A population unrestrained, that will double three times this century.

You have neutered these women against their knowledge, against their will!

They would not otherwise consent.

And you mean to practice it here, in secret, in my clinic, On these women who come to me as their last hope?

Dr. Frayn.

This man, this Anthony Rolle, It is he... he mutilated Mary Tait and others.

I flattered myself, that your interest in me was a mark of my excellence...

I imagined and ally, at last... who would stand with me against the silence obscene of the medical profession, but you are nothing but a madman.

Dr. Anthony Rolle, I will see you in shackles for the miseries you have inflicted.

[Sighs] If he'd only said yes to me.

I'm not such a wretch as he thinks.

Blinded by hate for him, I was. For a time.

'Cause not for that, I wanted you.

If you'd told me, I'd have stood by you.

I'd have done right by you.

He would never have borne it.

And I could never have left him.

[Door opens]

Oh, it is cruel.

[Crying] Must he wear this dress?

Must he be robbed of even his dignity as he goes to the gallows?

No, it cannot be. T-t-this cannot be.

My dearest girl, forgive me. I smothered ya.

Oh, my love, it's all right.

Oh, George.

Oh, my George, my father.

You make me this promise.

You live a brave, bright life for yourself, whatsoever it may be. You choose it.

I saw a home, a loving husband, a child for me, a grandchild for you.

Then you find your joy elsewhere...

You live your life full.

Live free, and live true. Mm.

Promise me that.

[Whip cracks, horse whinnies]

No. No!

No!

Live true, my baby!

No!

No! No!

No!

No!

I've been practising my hand.

Are we finished now?

For today.

Then shall we go to the sea?

You may take your shoes and socks off... and walk in the water.

We shall... but not quite yet.

We must stay in Whitechapel just a little while longer.

But I want to go to the sea.

You and I, and the birds, and the sunshine.

I know, my heart, and we shall, we shall.

We'll not be long now.

I stay to bring all to its conclusion so that we may both be free.

Bennet: I must make apology. I spoke harsh to you.

I have my doubts of Miss Hart, but they touch not upon you.

Your bond with her is yours alone.

And... I... I thought it my right, my place, to govern you, to know better of your happiness than you yourself.

Rose, I would not be that man, still less that husband... if, that is, it is a husband you seek in me.

I will entrust myself to no other.

Oh!

[Chuckles]

I believe it was the first happiness I ever knew to look upon your face.

[Chuckles]

Born under a bad sign, set upon a stark road, this boy, Bennet.

"Blessed," the name means, but so oft I felt myself cursed, bound only for a dismal end.

Rose, I know you've had some taste of happiness.

No, I-I'm glad of it. I resent none of it.

Only I shall not rest until I have made for you that taste a lifetime.

A perfection.

Oh, Bennet.

That content, and the bliss I now know... it is... as... sugar water is to honey.

[Chuckles and sniffs]

[Giggles]

Here.

[Laughs]

Now, this is none of your Edgar Morton stuff.

It is, uh, it is tiny.

It is but a speck of a thing.

[Gasps, laughs]

[Sniffs]

My Rose.

How can it be that this speck of a thing can hold such a world of joy?

[Laughs, squeals]

This room becomes you.

Though I guess you were born to it, huh, to live grand? You... you've come full circle.

It's as if I never was.

Must we always scratch and hiss at each other like a pair of alley cats?

It is well you are here. I had thought to send for you.

Well, I await upon your pleasure.

Matthew...

Now...

What does she plan here?

Would she have me believe she's human?

Well, let's see.

These are fingertips, Where I thought to find claws.

You're determined in your bitterness.

I have reason to be, though it kills something in me.

I found this.

Remember that day?

You broke a bone in your corset from laughin'.

Laughter is for fools.

What is this?

Will you never tire of your schoolboy pranks?

[Knocks on door]

Miss Susan, there is a man.

I did not know what to do.

Theodore Swift.

It was only a matter of time before you showed up.

But of course.

Father.

Well?

Where's my goddamn kiss?

Swift: I disembark here... my bile rises.

Reid: There is another circle coiled above me now, another snake.

Prepare for the wrath of God to fall on your shoulders.

[Punch connects, table crashes]

Susan: It is as you say, Mr. Reid, damned if we do, and damned if we do not.

Bennet: Can you not see it, sir. The good lady Hart.

Reid: We might act now, see good done.

Swift: I have not killed a man, in nigh on 15 years!

[Rifle shot]