01x17 - Episode 17

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Dickensian". Aired: December 26, 2015 to February 2016.*
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"Dickensian" shows the interaction of iconic characters created by Charles Dickens.
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01x17 - Episode 17

Post by bunniefuu »

Mr Venus, I wish to solicit your opinion.

A sudden emergency, Mr Bucket.

I'll meet you outside Jacob Marley's residence.

It's rather exciting, this new method, trying to catch this devil in the detail.

Are you excited?

I have two days before I resume my former office.

Two days to get my man for this m*rder.

The clock is ticking.

I do not have time to be excited.

( Baby cries )

Shh, shh, shh...

This, this, the actual true facts right here, how Inspector Thompson cornered and caged the savage k*ller of Marley.

Ain't right that such a thing be made entertaining.

It's grubby, it's nasty and I don't want to hear it, John, if it's all the same to you.

Well, it ain't right they ever dragged you in, Mr C, just ain't right at all.

How could that Bucket ever put you in the frame?

I said I don't want to hear it, John! I've heard enough about it.

The m*rder*r's been got. There's no more to be said.

Footman?

He is never to present himself here again.

You never want to set eyes on his face, nor hear his... blandishments, now or ever in the future.

Mary, wait.

I'll tell him myself.

You smile, sir. Why?

I always smile when I see you.

Is something amiss?

I know about her.

Her?

Your lady-friend. I know.

You have this all so very wrong.

No, I don't believe I do.

If you will allow me to explain.

Everything that comes out of your mouth is a filthy lie and I want no more of them.

Very well, Miss Havisham. I will return when you are calmer.

You will not return, not to this house.

And if you should, I will call the constables.

So, where is your smile now, sir?

You need to eat something. What are you doing?

I keep thinking I can hear her cry for me.

And every time I think I hear her cry, there's milk.

Here, let me.

( Baby cries )

Oh, gosh!

Oh, God, there it is again!

Can you really not hear anything?

I have to go out today to make arrangements.

Of course. To bury her.

Maybe then I'll stop thinking I can hear her cry for me.

Maybe I'll always think it.

It'll pass.

I'll try not to be too long.

Can you find somewhere pretty for her to lie?

Perhaps near a tree. Somewhere peaceful.

I'll do my best.

Morning, Daisy.

Morning, Emily.

( He snores )

Have I been here all night?

Er, looks that way, sir.

Tell the landlord I want another bottle of rum.

Will you do something for me, sir?

Will you, er, pass on the respects of the Cratchit family to your young lady?

My daughter, Martha, says that Miss Honoria is much missed at the dressmakers. I told her she's looking after her poorly aunt and family always comes first.

Sir?

Yes.

Yes, it does.

Family comes first, above everything else.

Thank you, Mrs Cratchit.

I haven't done anything.

You've made me see sense.

( Baby cries )

Shh, shh, shh...

Mr Bucket!

This was your sudden emergency?

This is Madame Snuggles. Belongs to the glove-stretcher's wife.

A beloved companion of many years. Has an infestation of moth.

There are irrefutable certainties to this case, Mr Venus.

Marley is k*lled by a blow to the temple.

A splinter from the m*rder w*apon is embedded in his scalp.

Your thoughts on such a w*apon, Mr Venus?

A practised felon, a professional cut-throat takes care of the tools of his trade.

What use is it to him, a cosh that splinters?

The accused in the cells, waiting to hang, used a metal cudgel.

I feel, Mr Venus, that this m*rder w*apon is an item a man might just pick up, something meant for a purpose other than the cracking of skulls.

What else are we certain of?

That when the blow was struck, er, the k*ller and Marley were face to face.

And the blow itself?

Not one that I would associate with a powerful man.

There was force, yes, but it is glancing, almost fearful.

A fraction of an inch and Marley could still be alive.

I would call it an unlucky blow.

Unlucky for Jacob Marley.

The k*ller strikes and runs.

He doesn't stop to take Marley's watch, which is still ticking away on his corpse, and it's a good, expensive watch.

He panics.

So, another certainty.

The k*ller is not a hardened criminal, because they do not panic.

Then what are they doing at night by the docks, which is the haunt of malefactors and cut-throats?

Marley was a dark man, at home in dark places.

But the k*ller...

Do you remember what I said to you early on in this case?

Money never lies.

Debt is the black heart of this crime.

I feel it.

To the m*rder site!

Do you think you've been clever?

I don't know what you're talking about.

You told her about Sally.

No, I didn't.

Of course it was you, you snivelling wretch!

I told her nothing.

I'm delighted if she's found out that you are actually married, because it's over, isn't it? You're finished.

You think I can't come back from this?

How often has my sister begged for me to come home?

Perhaps it's time I did just that.

I'll buy her a gift. A pineapple, perhaps, she adores pineapple.

It will remind her of our childhood trips with our father to the glasshouses at Kew.

I will apologise for being such a fool and she would forgive me and we'd be together again, brother and sister in Satis House.

Arthur and Amelia Havisham.

United, against you.

Shh, shh, shh, shh...

( Baby cries )

( Knock at the door )

James.

Where's Frances?

She's out.

Good. Not that it would matter, because I would still do this.

Frances sent you a note last night. Did you get it?

Oh, I threw it on the fire unread, I knew what it would say.

Honoria, marry me.

I want to be your husband.

I want to be the father of our child.

I want it more than anything else in the world.

What are we waiting for?

Your father's blessing? My promotion?

All that matters is that we love each other.

Oh, I forgot to kneel, wait.

My beautiful girl.

Be my wife.

James, do I look different to you?

You look tired.

The note you threw on the fire said the baby was coming and a doctor was needed.

The baby?

She was born dead, James.

Our daughter was born dead.

( Baby gurgles )

Where is she?

The baby, can I see her?

Frances is making arrangements for her.

She'll say prayers, give her flowers.

She was very beautiful.

Esther Frances.

Esther...

A good name, I like it.

James, this is the end now.

What do you mean?

For us. It's the end.

This is goodbye.

Honoria, my sweetheart.

Terrible things happen, babies are lost and people grieve, but they go on.

Well, that is people. It is not me.

I want you to leave now. It's over.

You don't mean this. You don't want this, it's just the shock.

Please, go.

Honoria!

No, do not!

You are my world, my heart's blood, I love you.

And I loved you.

So much. All I could see was you.

But now, all I can see is her face.

This is a judgment on us, James.

Because of us, she can't even be buried properly.

She has to be hidden away like some dirty little secret, lying there all alone, a little girl in the dark.

And it's because of us.

We both d*ed with our daughter last night.

We are ghosts of the people we used to be.

It is ended.

I want you to go.

Go and never come back.

I am nothing without you.

I am nobody.

Goodbye, Captain Hawdon.

( Baby cries )

She's so hungry.

She's had nothing yet, nothing at all.

Her name is Esther. Esther Fr...

Just Esther.
She's not in. I already knocked.

Might I ask how you got this address?

I drove by here.

I saw you embrace her, this woman of yours.

What is she, your mistress?

You share these squalid lodgings, so your wife, perhaps?

I do hope you married her. At least that would be decent.

It seems you have already decided what she is.

It's the money, isn't it?

You thought, "Here's some poor rich woman I can play."

You leap to so many conclusions, it would be dishonourable for me to contradict you.

Because you cannot contradict me.

You are a fraud.

Meriwether?

What's she doing here? She knows about me.

She does.

And since you live together, I suppose for the sake of good manners I should call you Mrs Compeyson.

Mrs?

Oh, no, I'm Miss. Miss Compeyson.

I'm his sister.

Would you step into my carriage?

Not you.

It's an ugly tale, Miss Havisham.

I lost my heart to a bad man.

I ran away with him.

He was cruel. Cast me aside.

I could have ended up a street woman.

I thought I might throw myself from a bridge at Blackfriars and let the river take me.

But my brother searched for me, found me and kept me safe.

But I saw him embrace you.

You have a brother, do you not?

Do you and he never embrace?

We used to. Once.

Why did he say nothing to me about you?

I told him he shouldn't.

Someone of your standing, your status, associated with one such as myself.

A woman banished by good society.

I told my brother you'd drop him in an instant.

I'm sorry.

I'm terribly sorry.

She believed me. She's tricky, though. Hard work.

Is that what you like about her?

It's the money I like.

You never told me she was beautiful.

This should've been finished weeks ago. You're delaying!

You want to get in her bed.

No, we had a deal. Anything but that. You don't get in her bed!

You're imagining things.

Why are you here?

You should hate me. Why don't you hate me?

Satis House!

This... is the exact spot where Jacob Marley lost his life.

Put Madame Snuggles down a moment, Mr Venus.

I require your assistance.

You are in debt to Jacob Marley.

Why have you come here, at night, to meet him, instead of at his house or his place of business?

Because this meeting is secret. I want it to be secret.

I don't want to be seen by anyone I know.

I'm ashamed.

I'm desperate.

I'm scared.

Why have you come?

Perhaps I've come to ask you for more time... to pay.

Perhaps I want to ask you, beg you, please, to be lenient...

...to be kind.

I'm Jacob Marley. I enjoy your desperation.

I enjoy your shame and fear.

That is meat and drink to me.

Why should I be kind?

Well, perhaps I have a family, little ones.

I don't care.

I lent you a shilling but now it's pounds and pounds and every day it gets worse and I enjoy that, because now I own you.

There is not one part of your life I don't control.

The boots on your feet, the clothes on your back, every mouthful of drink, every bite of food, every waking moment.

The roof over your head, the bed you lie down on.

Because whether you go destitute or not is at my say so.

There is nowhere you are free from me.

Every brick and every stick is mine.

Your life, the life of your loved ones is mine. All of it!

Crushed by the debt you owe to me and that gives me pleasure, so why should I be kind?

Ah!

Exactly so, Mr Venus.

Our k*ller is an ordinary man, pushed to the very limit of what was bearable.

And he snapped.

Don't announce me, I want to surprise her.

( Distant laughter )

You haven't touched your cordial, Mr Venus.

I'm worried about this man.

The k*ller?

He's just ordinary.

Driven to a terrible act, but ordinary.

And now with you so hard on his tail, I...

I fear for him.

You have a gentle heart, my friend, but there must and will be justice and I will pursue it to my dying breath.

But consider what that justice will be for his crime, though.

It is the hangman's noose for him, Mr Bucket.

An ordinary man.

Mr Venus, the k*ller took a w*apon with him.

He went to meet Marley with malice a forethought.

Pre-meditation.

So he might have been ordinary once, but now he is a m*rder*r.

Pies, gents.

Thank you.

Mmm.

( Knock at the door )

Inspector!

Mrs Cratchit. I was passing.

Might I come in?

I'm baking, it's a terrible mess.

I don't mind mess.

Quite the family industry.

Everyone pitches in - the little ones, Bob... Mr Cratchit.

Yeah, he's quite a dab hand in the kitchen.

He's got a sure touch with pastry.

What's that?

It's evidence, Mrs Cratchit.

This piece of wood was removed from Jacob Marley's scalp.

It came from the cosh that k*lled him.

I've been looking for that w*apon.

And now I've found it.

Mrs Cratchit, when your husband comes home, I'm going to have to take him away.

Why?

Because your husband, who has such a sure touch with pastry... is going to be re-arrested for the m*rder of Jacob Marley.

( Man whistles )

It wasn't Bob, it was me. I k*lled Marley.

It was me.

( Bob whistles )
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