05x02 - A Brittle Thread

[bunniefuu]

Men of H Division, I expect you to show your new leader all the loyalty you showed your last.

Who was this man, Croker?

A wharfinger, a nobody.

A nobody ended Bennet Drake?

That is not a nobody.

Father, Mr Swift, why would you put him there, the cellar that was once my home?

Drum?

They set a trap for him, Shine and Frank Thatcher.

They construct this animal fight to draw us out, but we shall see Shine's claws pulled from him first.

DS Thatcher.

Crowd: Reid, Reid, Reid, Reid, Reid!

[Police whistle sounds]

I want him found, now!

[Bangles rattling]

Buckley singing: ♪ Come unto these yellow sands and there take hands ♪
♪ Foot it featly ♪

Mathilda joins in: ♪ Here and there, and let sweet sprites the burden bear ♪

Buckley with a lisp: Two Christmases we now have had you home with us, Princess Alice.

Two Christmases since the river sprites carried you ashore to us.

Do you remember?

I do, Daddy Horace. They rescued me.

What was it they rescued you from, my princess of the faeren?

The fire on the water, Daddy Horace.

Yes, and who did they rescue you from?

Uh, who did he say he was?

My father.

[Echoed drum b*at]

But he was lying.

He was always lying.

Because he did not want me to know who I really was, to know that I was a princess.

Buckley: And who was he?

The wicked King.

[Echoed drum b*at]

[Train chugging in distance]

[Train clatters over tracks in distance]

Jackson: When?

This morning.

About nigh on for four, perhaps.

We said fresh.

This man is in rigour.

Look, do you want him or not?

Will he serve?

Well, look at him. He's... he's rigid.

Can he be made to serve?

[Sighs exasperatedly]

What do you want it for?

[Theme music]

[Waters lapping gently]

[Horns sounds faintly in distance]

Woman: Uh-uh.

All will be well, Myrtle.

Only do as you've promised.

No more.

Course, my love.

Promise me you will be vigilant, take no risks.

I will be the meekest man you ever did see.

Last stop before the Hackney Marshes, ladies and gentlemen.

First day, is it?

Handyman, to work about the house.

Name?

Waters, Leonard.

In you go.

Argh!

You may think me ignorant, Drum, but I ain't no imbecile.

You and your Mathilda, her hand on your Thomas, tugging your loyalty from you, plotting how best, we here, may be embarrassed!

Thatcher panting: Come on then.

Argh!

When you say we, Frank, is it in fact you, you talk of?

Your knackers still chafed, are they, from that pony's backside?

[Both yelling out]

[Station house men murmuring]

Drum: Argh, eh!

Shine: Thatcher.

Drum: Uh! Oh.

Thatcher: Oh! Oh...

What horseplay is this?

We have urgent business to get about, and you two stop for a cuddle.

Thatcher, explain yourself.

The whole world knows it's this shandy gaff who's blown in our plans.

You best do a better job proving that with your words than you have with your fists, Frank!

Argh!

Shine: No, Thatcher, only explain to me how you have allowed this fight to develop.

As I say, Inspector... [panting] it's this wet soaked clown...

No, Sergeant, I know why you might hope to batter the man.

I am more concerned that you have found yourself unable.

See... his reach is longer than yours.

And he is a slight more calculating.

In order to fight such a man, you must know before you begin that you will win.

Oh, ooh, uh!

I do that by way of demonstration, of how you might in the future overcome your disadvantages.

[Drum coughs and gasps]

Well, you do not mind, do you, Sergeant Drum?

What's a pair of sore knackers between comrades?

Or are we not comrades no more?

We are, Mr Shine.

And I'm glad to hear it.

Thatcher, you are to repeat such accusations in the future, you will do so with articles of proof.

Drummond.

Drum: Uh.

You are to deny them... you'd best find men who believe such denials.

Now, I am to Hackney to tell Mr Dove how we are made monkeys of.

Chudleigh: When Mr Dove was a boy, I made sure he sat to breakfast at the same time each morning.

This boy must do likewise.

He cannot learn punctuality otherwise.

And if he does not learn punctuality, he cannot learn discipline.

Yes, Miss.

You are Waters?

Yes, ma'am.

Why do you call me ma'am?

I'm not married.

"Miss Chudleigh" will serve.

As you prefer, Miss.

You make the fire for the master's study?

I do.

Then be sure to knock.

Dove's voice muffled: You have the town around you.

...the brothels in case the woman, Hart, returns to her former work.

Shine's voice muffled: Whatever you say.

Dove: Come.

Coal for the fire, Mr Dove.

Of course. Mr Waters, is it not?

It is, sir.

Well, don't let us stop you.

Why not get the fire lit, Waters?

Yes, Mr Dove.

And they'd stripped Sergeant Thatcher?

All but for that flash man's hat he sports, and their carnations in his gob.

Who can say why they love Ed Reid.

Although, it must be said, he makes good copy.

I'd have you make better, Inspector, and catch him.

You have the town roused, the brothels, in case the woman, Hart, returns to her former work.

Oh yes, Mr Dove.

All gaming houses, for word of the American.

Mr Dove, do you doubt my vigour?

[Sighs] Of course not, Inspector.

Then, perhaps, you will answer me something.

If I can.

These dog fights...

Reid and Jackson emerge from wherever they are hid for dog fights.

So I understand.

Or rather, one particular fight dog and one particular man who has thieved that fight dog.

Why does Edmund Reid have such an itch in his britches that he breaks cover to trap him?

Thank you, Waters.

[Tools clatter and door opens]

[Door closes]

Dove's voice muffled: Hiding on your soil, Mr Shine?

Shine's voice muffled: I guessed that, now.

Hush, Connor. I am a friend.

Dove: Go on...

Shine: Where as I now understand it, Reid had his own theories on this cannibal k*ller.

He disagrees it was this man, Croker, k*lled those men.

Bennet Drake also. [Sighs]

He would be misguided in that belief, however.

Seems he clings to it with some determination, however.

Desk Sergeant Drummond, I'll bet my liver it is he who forewarned Reid.

You have no proof of such betrayal?

Well, then you leave him in peace.

That station house needs balance and stability, not fear and retribution.

As you wish, Mr Dove.

[Carriage approaches]

[Shine sighs]

Good day to you, sir.

Inspector Shine.

Miss Chudleigh?

Yes, Mr Dove.

[Scoffs] To your room. Your guardian and father must have peace for his work.

Wait, Miss Chudleigh.

I have business this morning in a place that... were I still a small boy, well, it would fill me with wonder.

See him readied, if you please. The two of you will join me.

Yes, Mr Dove.

[Footsteps receding]

"Mr Edmund Reid may have cause to reflect on whether, as H Division's head man, he ever knew the popularity he now does as its most urgent quarry."

The people are fickle.

[Sighs] Ooh, they are that.

Seems you, too, are also on the road to redemption. Listen to this.

"More inquiring minds might also ask themselves the question of what need and purpose it is now sees Miss Hart, a woman who once gave great civic care to her community, now united with Mr Reid in their fugitive status."

This is Miss Castello's pen?

She herself.

What is it irks you, Mr Judge?

Is it that she does not even once make mention of your notoriety?

Not as if she never once met me.

Perhaps you're easily forgot.

Perhaps she does not know which name to call you.

Oh, aren't you all so cute.

Maybe I ought to hand you in myself?

You know, broker an amnesty, live in peace... alone.

Still, I'm entirely uncertain how to respond to your notoriety.

What am I to make of your bizarre requests?

You have them?

The falsies?

A healthy selection.

Mimi: Yes, but to what end?

Susan: Pulling the tiger's tail.

Jackson: This is the first step, darling.

Mimi: No, not good enough.

Please, will one of you explain?

[Mimi sighs] Your latest victim?

Natural causes, Miss Morton.

Let me rephrase that. Have you k*lled him?

I said we should have waited till she'd gone home.

'Scuse me. I will not be spoken of as if I am some irksome landlady.

If we wait any longer, this stiff's gonna be beyond purpose.

And what purpose that?

They wish to make a scandal, Miss Morton, show Augustus Dove the limits of his control.

And for that, you require dental r...

We require teeth.

Oh! Good God.

Do you intend to make another victim?

We need to break the mortis first.

Jackson: Ooph!

[Cracking]

Jackson: Ooph!

[Cracking]

Jackson: Ooph!

[Bone cracking]

Jackson: Ooph!

[Bone cracking]

Hey, move around one.

[Jackson breathing heavily]

Could be a child's parlour game.

[Bone cracking]

Jackson: Ugh!

All right, you have them?

Reid: I believed the records would have their uses when I took them.

I hadn't anticipated imitation, however.

Gonna have to screw down hard, prise the flesh away.

How charming.

Yes, men's work, I believe. Shall we?

Let us.

[Footsteps recede]

[Horse whinnying in distance]

[Jackson exhaling with effort]

[Squelching]

I will stop just a moment or two.

Then we shall be on our way.

Mr Dove, appointments are there to be made, but you, it seems, feel yourself above the simple act of a knock upon a door.

Fugitives from justice conduct themselves with more refinement, do they?

Mr Dove, surely you understand.

I hear that the former police detective Edmund Reid is cheered to the skies as he runs through our streets.

Well, that is an event worthy of report, in my opinion.

And yet, Miss Castello, about three editions past, you penned the report, true facts, of how this man, whose reputation you now burnish, most likely placed a defenceless old man in an underground dungeon and left him there to starve and rot.

And then, here today, you make as if he might in fact be a folk hero.

Our readers are fickle, sir. And it is they who pay my wages.

No!

This neighbourhood, the people require simple paradigms... good, bad, justice, villainy.

These ideas become confused in their heads, well, the social fabric of these streets is sewn with a brittle thread.

That thread breaks, the carapace of civility falls away with it, and what will be left but naked savagery?

Edmund Reid did evil. Long Susan Hart did evil.

Captain Homer Jackson, likewise.

If you wish to remain friend to the police, that is the story you ought to tell.

Do you thr*aten me, Mr Dove?

Well, you interpret it how you wish, Miss Castello... [Telephone rings in background] but you see it done.

[Dog barking]

[Birds chirping]

[Dove cooing]

See how they love to play, Connor?

[Connor giggles]

[Connor continues giggling]

I fear only that the boy will become spoiled, sir.

There's nothing spoiling in joy, Miss Chudleigh.

All young boys need a dog.

Do you know, Connor, when I was only a little older than you are now, I lost my mother and was alone.

And I was found and cared for by a man who showed me that a way may be made from the lonely boy I was to a new life, a better life.

Connor, I intend to be that man for you.

You have my oath on it.

Until you yourself are become a man, it will be my greatest endeavour to see you do not lack for a single thing.

I will be a father to you.

You choose your favourite, Connor, and we shall bring it home.

[Parrot squawking]

I thought to settle your invoice in cash, Mr Sparks.

We are grateful, Mr Dove.

As am I, for your efforts.

The beasts were not too hard to find?

[Scoffs] Sir, this is Jamrach's.

There is not a creature alive that we here cannot locate for you.

And the other conditions we agreed?

Full anonymity, sir, as promised.

Shine sighing: Thatcher.

Inspector, my apologies, sir.

A snitch reported, sir, and I thought his intelligence worth a coin.

That being?

[Sighing] Captain Jackson, he and Miss Hart, I mean, it's not as if she was the sole focus of his ardour down the years.

If we roused each and every twat that man has inspected, the pair of us'll be old and grey.

Yes, sir. I know, sir, but there was one other, who, word had it, he stayed loyal to.

Only for a little while, but the talk was that she kept him in order.

The pair of them were tight, till Miss Susan got locked down, and then he made his choice.

You have paid a snitch for old gossip, Thatcher.

No, sir.

I paid him because he brought word that this other is once more in Whitechapel.

Who is this lady?

Well to do, fine silk, fine hair, fine carriage... y'know...

Slum tourist?

Yeah, of... of a kind.

What kind?

The dramatic, sir, playhouses.

Your games are ended, then?

[Loud knocking]

You expecting visitors, Mimi?

[Knocking] Oi, police!

Thatcher: You will open these doors!

In there.

Thatcher knocking: Go on. Open up, I say.

[Knocking] Police!

Open this door!

Jackson: Quick, up into the lighting rigs.

Miss Morton?

Yes.

We've come for a show, lady.

[Mimi chuckles]

One man here, other, stage door.

Watch your step.

Thatcher: There are lights?

Mimi: There are.

[Switches multiple lights on]

Shine: Look at that, the theatre.

Mimi: Hmm.

Thatcher: So, it is the case that you and Captain Jackson once stepped out?

"Stepped out"... hmm, that's a delicate phrase for a man in a velvet collar.

Shine: Well, we know you theatricals, that you like to use words to describe the thing that ain't actually the thing itself.

Ah-ha. You mean a simile?

Although "stepped out" is perhaps more of a metaphor?

Perhaps you best describe the thing itself.

All right then, let me ask you this...

Were you...

Mimi: Uh-huh. and the man, most widely known as Homer Jackson, once joined by cock and cunny?

Ah... oh, so much clearer.

Language is so much better for an accurate expression, I find.

Thatcher: Well, then, Miss, were you?

Yes.

My God, that is a loathsome hat.

When did contact cease?

When he chose to join that cock to his wife's cunny instead.

Shine: You got friends, ah, visiting, Miss Morton?

Do you see us ready to admit audiences yet?

No?

That is because there is a renovation taking place, and because I have yet to establish for myself how best a collapsing wall may be buttressed and my plastering is not all I'd wish it to be. I must employ workmen.

And workmen, not unlike policemen, are fond of tea and biscuits.

It's not the only items we police have a liking for.

[Slap]

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

You know, Miss Morton, you grow ever more fetching to my eye.

Now, it is in your interest to be candid with me, lady.

The risk of a fire in a place so full of the flammable.

My theatre burns, that fire will not stop till it meets the river.

[Whispering menacingly] Madam, no, you should tell me then, have you seen him?

Have you hid him?

I'll tell you something about Captain Homer Jackson.

I'm sure a great many believe he cuts quite the dash with his cool eye for all the... the world in its foolishness considers of value.

And I'll admit, such cynicism quite had me taken for a while.

[Lighter snaps shut]

But that nonchalance is just a pose behind which he hides a tearful, fearful, treacherous heart.

Further to which... for a man to spend so much of his life in service of his manhood, when that manhood is... well, more of a boyhood...

You get my meaning, Mr Shine.

Thatcher.

[Lowers rope]

[Bucket clatters to the floor]

Shine: With me, Thatcher.

Run along.

[Reid sighs]

[Jackson sighs]

Miss Morton, any damage incurred while you keep us here, I will foot the bill myself.

And what will you do, Miss Hart? Set armed men to rob another train?

Now, let us hope it doesn't come to that, huh?

You okay, Mimi?

I will not have you soft-soap me either.

Perhaps after all we have overstayed our welcome.

Jedediah Shine is not a man I would have set any further sights on you.

Come. It's becoming dark. We may go find ourselves alternative concealment.

[Chuckles] And then when you're caught and your severed heads are displayed on the iron railings that line the new station house on Leman Street, I shall have eternal guilt to add to the catalogue of vexations I suffer as a result of you coming back into my life.

No, this profanity is part of some strategy that, at its end, sees you restored, these two gone away, and that man Dove punished for all he has done.

It is no easy task, Miss Morton, but yes, that is the goal.

Best you and your merry band get about it, then, Mr Reid.

[Footsteps recede]

Where you go, you trust these people?

They are not one-time lovers of mine, but that aside, yes, I do.

What am I today, the world's choppin' block?

I wanna know you're safe, is all.

Just get about your work, husband, and I shall get about mine.

[Knocking] Leonard, Myrtle.

[Dog barking in distance]

Miss Susan. Quick, before you're seen.

Look at you, Myrtle. [Chuckles]

You must be near term.

I am, Miss Susan.

And you, is all safe with you?

Oh, you must not fear, neither of you.

You do quite enough for me as it is.

Ah, but there's never enough we could do for you, Miss, not never.

Tell me, Leonard... [inhales] how fares my boy?

Oh, but he is a stout, fine young man, as only could be expected.

He is well then?

He is well cared for, certainly.

But not... happy?

[Tea pouring]

How could a boy be happy without his ma?

But he is kept on a short line.

The woman Chudleigh.

[Chuckles bravely] The governess.

As fierce and shrewish a harridan as ever scolded a boy.

But Mr Dove, he has some feeling for the boy, I believe.

Took him to Jamrach's today and bought him a puppy.

So to ease his loneliness.

But, Leonard, do you think... do you see a way, when the time comes, that he might be taken away?

There are Westminster police on guard day and night.

But the woman, Chudleigh, must eat and sleep.

In the gardens...

Mr Dove's gardens, they're bordered at the back only by the Marshes.

And that puppy must be exercised.

I see, Leonard.

Albeit slight, there are opportunities there.

There are.

How do you find Mr Dove?

Too upright by half, as you ask.

And he is, ah, distracted by something which makes him fearful anxious.

Leonard, do you think it's possible, whilst always of course being most careful, that you may discover what it is that makes him so anxious?

Please, Miss Susan, he already risks so much. What if he is found out?

Leonard?

Nah, now come, Myrtle... we must remind ourselves of all this good lady has done for us.

I was only a daily fetch-it, paid a penny to clear the guttering at Tenter Street when the leaves got in.

And she encouraged my love for you.

Saw that you need earning that way no more, handed us the deposit for our home, here.

Hush, Leonard. You need not go on.

But... he is my Leonard, and I will be lost without him.

He means to name the child after you, if it is a girl.

And even if it is not.

[Chuckling] Leonard, a boy named Susan?

Strong a name as ever there was.

[All laughing]

[Susan sniffles]

Um...

[Susan sighs and sniffles]

Here, the house, entrances, bedchambers of the occupants.

Do you think you might be able to draw it for me?

I'm sure I may.

Here, at the back stairwell, this, Mr Dove's rooms.

And this, where your Connor sleeps.

Jackson: That's the way, brother.

Passer-by: It's still there...

Jackson: Almost home.

Passer-by: you know what I mean?

Jackson, whispered: Right, quick, over here.

Jackson: Well, do we say a prayer?

Pray that one deception is believed over the other.

Now, I go to watch for Mathilda's candle.

I'm sorry, Drum.

It is not you that lumped me, Tilda.

I might as well have, however.

My father would be grateful for such loyalty.

They know it was me told you, and you that told him.

And he that tied Frank Thatcher starkers to that pony.

I am watched.

By Mr Shine?

He wishes to dice me for his cooking pot.

[Mathilda sighs]

I shall not ask it of you again, Drum.

Come, please, do not sleep on the floor tonight.

Mathilda, do you not fear for what folk will say?

Do you not want to be proper?

Proper?

I'm not sure I know what that means.

But, I certainly do not care for others' definition of it.

All that is proper and true is that this is good.

All else can go hang.

Come, Samuel.

No. No, no, Tilda.

It's not that I lack the [sighing] desire... it does not feel right.

In your heart?

No.

Then, we must stay true to that.

[Train chugging in distance]

[Train clatters over tracks in distance]

Man: Ghost of Hyde Park, sir?

Thatcher: Move, move! Oi, oi! Move!

Thatcher: Keep 'em back!

Man: Law, we are not a sl*ve to this.

Woman 1: Who's the culprit?

Woman 2: Should be ashamed of yourself, sir.

My children are not safe with their family!

Woman: Please, no!

Woman: ***.

Man: ***.

Dove: What's that you, say?

Constable: A new body with bite marks had been found, Mr Dove.

Dove: Another? Where found? By whom?

Constable: The wire says only that they need your urgent attendance at Leman Street, sir.

Dove: Telephone Leman Street. They are to expect me within the hour.

And wire Jamrach's for the latest shipping time... now!

Yes, Mr Dove.

Miss Chudleigh... good morning.

Waters, the scuttle.

[Dog whimpering]

[Leonard sighs]

Course, Miss Chudleigh.

Where is it he was found?

Yard off the back of Half Moon Passage, sir.

That is but a spit from this address here.

The murdering maniacs of this town lack all respect.

This man, Croker, your case was made sound, Mr Dove?

For there is fearful likeness here.

Dove: You will send for a surgeon.

Shine: To what end, sir?

For full autopsy. For certainty!

Certainty?

Well, that is a luxury in my experience, sir.

Nonetheless, Sergeant Drummond, you will please send to The Yard.

Yes, Mr Dove. [Sighs]

Sirs, the press come.

Mr Dove, might I have some confirmation concerning the dead man's body recovered this morning from Half Moon Passage?

Has this force once more assumed their tormentor dead when he is not?

There are over 15 witnesses, all describing the work done to the body.

What use our word, right then, girl?

Mr Dove, you are the ranking officer here. May I have it from you?

Assistant Commissioner?

Sergeant Drummond... will you brew a pot of tea and show Miss Castello to the private office above.

That is, if Mr Shine will allow for the loan of it.

Be my guest.

I am to be granted private interview, am I?

Perhaps you'll begin by telling me on what evidence you named the man Croker.

And if, as it now seems likely, it was not he performed these savage acts... you will now be reopening the investigation into the m*rder of Inspector Bennet Drake.

I shall not be taking questions on this matter until autopsy is made.

Then why bring me here?

Why not simply make your denial and cast me out?

You believe yourself a good journalist, I am sure.

Good, I mean, in that you understand the moral imperative of the truth.

I do.

Perhaps you believe I have in the past been eager to hide such truth from you.

Well, I'm tearing it up from the roots now.

That is a copy, yours to take.

But what you will find is that the fate to have befallen Mr Theodore Swift, buried alive by Edmund Reid, was far from an isolated occurrence.

Within, the testimony of a man who once served him.

Proof of this station house's past iniquity.

Corroborated, extrajudicial m*rder.

You wish to fill your next front page with speculation, you be my guest.

But this, this is fact.

And were you not to print fact, Miss Castello, well, I'd need to ask myself why that was.

[Door opens and closes]

Care to share, Mr Dove?

All in good time, Mr Shine.

Voice-over by Bobby Grace: "Despite our sternest efforts, neither myself, Inspector Drake, nor Captain Jackson could break down the iron grill, which Inspector Reid had locked behind him. He would not open it and set about the suspect, Mr Buckley. Mr Reid took Mr Buckley's head between his hands and..."

Hold the evening run!

What?

Well, you've made the front page.

Just not all of it.

Jesus, Reid.

Horace Buckley, they have everything.

Oh, Mathilda.

No, no, no. Mathilda.

Voice-over by Bobby Grace continues: "He would not open it and... and set about the suspect, Mr Buckley. Mr Reid took Mr Buckley's head between his hands and... well, cannot think of a better word for it... popped it against the wooden pillar. I believe Mr Buckley d*ed after the second strike."

Shine: Mr Thatcher, what has befallen this neighbourhood that it is aburst with women who wish to hide their information from the police?

Don't know what it is, sir.

Perhaps you'd best tell me, then, Miss Castello.

I am accustomed to those of your sex being a sight more polite than this.

Our Assistant Commissioner Dove has given you intelligence that now sees fugitive Reid damned in the pages where he was so recently celebrated.

And what if it were?

Hm. Do you see?

There you go again.

Now, I tire of it, girly.

Inspector, sir...

Why, you object to my questioning?

Ah.

See, Miss, now, listen... [Rachel gasps] there is a battle currently playin' out.

Its field of conflict, the pages of your dirty rag! Huh?

[Rachel whimpers]

Now, its antagonists are my Mr Dove and Mr Edmund Reid.

[Rachel gasps]

Stop it!

[Shine groans]

[Rachel screams and gasps]

Please, I do not know what you mean.

Do you not, huh, it's that corpse?

That corpse, a-huh, which all assume is your cannibal k*ller back about.

It is not.

Now, Mr Dove, he is a clever cat, Yeah, but he ain't seen near enough dead bodies.

Them bite marks, hm?

See how they're around the edges?

Huh? Lower lividity, see. done a good long day or so after death came down. in other words, a hoax.

The skilled hand of Ed Reid's Yankee.

Now, what I drive at is this.

Why, hm, why?

What is the message Reid sends the Assistant Commissioner of Police?

What is it?! What is it?!

Rachel whimpers: Please...

What is it?!

Inspector Shine, please!

[Rachel screams]

You moan like a bitch, I shall slap you like one.

You don't have the stomach for my work, [Hushed] get out and shut the door behind you.

[Rachel whimpers]

[Hushed] Get out.

Please, Mr Thatcher, please.

Get out now!

Shut the door behind you.

[Rachel choking]

[Door slams]

[Rachel whimpering and panting]

Now we are alone.

[Rachel suppresses a scream]

Hmm... you speak, hm... or you shall know the full immensity of Jedediah Shine's displeasure.

It is his brother.

[Hushed] Whose?

Mr Dove's.

[Hushed] You be clear now.

Be clear.

What does Mr Dove's brother do?

Reid believed him to have been the k*ller, hidden away for his mania, escaping to m*rder, and Mr Dove, by necessity, moving mountains to see blame shifted, and that man protected.

Where's this man now?

[Sobbing quietly] I do not know.

[Rachel crying]

Mr Dove...

Mr Dove, his... his displeasure at the sight of that hoax corpse... that might tell you something, Miss.

See here... he does not know neither, where this k*ller-brother of his is now hid.

Fears that Reid will trap him first.

[Sobbing] I don't know.

[Hushed] Now... [Timber creaking] come on.

All right, you're right, you're right, love.

Now... an exemplary hacker such as yourself would not entertain such stories without also gathering your own evidence, would you?

[Weakly] No.

[Rachel whimpering]

Then you shall hand that evidence to me now, hey?

Oh, there, there. Come on, Miss.

♪ Come unto these yellow sands and... ♪
♪ ...and take hands ♪

[Mathilda crying]

Your Leonard took some risk of thievin' this for ya.

Jamrach's?

It's the menagerie.

Leonard told me Dove had bought him a puppy.

[Exhales] These ain't puppies.

"Canis lupus lupus, middle Russian forest wolf."

I have heard tales of such wolves in such forests.

August Dove, philanthropic benefactor.

He does not draw breath without strategy.

Such rare beasts coming in from the Thames for tax and clearance, word of their arrivals will be seething on that dockside.

Dockside well known to the creature, Nathaniel Dove, and where he's surely hid somewhere.

It is not such a leap of faith to imagine him being drawn to the same creatures who have so indelibly marked his soul.

Same creatures as took their mother from 'em, brought to London from one brother to draw the other one out.

They are a lure.

But, if Dove hopes to use these creatures to trap his brother, we may use them also and set a trap for them both.

[Howling]

[Barking]

[Barking]

[Howling]

[Barking]

[A coin clinks on the cobblestones]

Mathilda. Mathilda, please. Do not be frighted.

Will you take this to Drummond?

Within are instructions. If he follows the instructions and brings men, they will capture this monster, the true beast of Whitechapel.

Much then will be revealed and I hope, I hope, that we may return to our lives together.

And that would be a good thing, would it?

Yes, Mathilda, it would.

The world will be safer, and your Uncle Bennet, others too, they will have their justice.

And what of you, Father?

All of which you stand accused?

There is much explaining I would do. I do not say that I am blameless.

But there is mitigation.

I hope so.

Mr Buckley was not a big man, not nearly as big as you, Father.

Mathilda.

Tilda, please, we will talk of that man in due course.

But first, please hand this note to Drummond.

You broke his head open up on a wood pillar.

You smashed his brains from him.

There is a testimony from Bobby Grace.

No shard of glass, no necessary defence of yourself, only m*rder.

A defenceless man k*lled in cold blood by your hand.

I was told that you were dead, dead for all that he had done to you, terrible dread things done to you in his captivity.

But he did not.

Yes, but I was told this.

I was assured this.

I cannot be blame...

He took you from me, Mathilda. Do you not see?!

No... He kept me safe... from you!

Mathilda, Mathilda, I will explain.

All will be explained, the Captain, Susan Hart, she who lied to me.

But first, the note, tell Drummond.

All will be right again.

Please.

[Woman in background laughs]

Man: Get here, my lass, hey?

[Mathilda sobs]

Must I take you by the throat, again, pin you to the wall, and accuse you of all the evil ever born?

Mr Reid, I will talk to her, my word on it.

Should we live, be free, I will not leave the city until I have made her understand the truth.

No, not you!

Not by my side. You are no ally of mine.

Get to Leonard.

He's done all he might for us now.

Get him out of there. I'll meet you after.

[Door squeaks and creaks open]

[Door closes]

[Whimpering and howling]

[Glass shatters]

[Birds twittering and squawking]

Sh, sh, sh, shhh.

[Nathaniel whispering] Good boys, good boys.

[Wolves whimpering]

Sh, sh, sh, sh, sh, sh, shhh.

Oh, my... my but ain't you both beauties, eh?

How far have you travelled, eh?

How far to come here to me now?

Here, look, look, look, look, look, look, look.

Hey, come on, it's all right.

Hey, there you are.

[Door opening]

[Growling and barking]

Nathaniel: 'Gustus.

I'm glad to have found you, brother.

Have you...?

It doesn't matter.

But I was certain the news of such rare beasts landing on this shoreline would draw you out.

[Wolves whimpering]

[Nathaniel sighs with relief]

[Nathaniel sobs]

[Wolves barking gently and whimpering]

Nathaniel, there is a savaged man found.

It is not by your action?

'Gustus, I have not...

About the hunger...

Well...

I feel it, yes.... but I feel also that it may be withstood.

Then, I am glad.

[Nathaniel sighs quietly]

They are magnificent.

Oh, 'Gustus... [Dove clears his throat] they are perfect.

[Growls and snarls]

[Growls and barks]

They would offer you their affection and yet they fear me.

Perhaps they see you for what you are.

Calm, Brother.

[Growling]

Hello, Mr Reid.

Dove: Captain.

You seem very sure of yourself, sir.

Of certain things, Mr Reid, yes, I am.

And so how will you explain your kinship with this man when the men of H Division arrive?

'Gustus?

The men of H Division cannot arrive if they are not instructed to do so.

And yet they are so instructed.

By these instructions?

Those you handed to your daughter?

Drummond.

Not he alone.

But Sue, she and he.

Your Mathilda, her world now so terribly shaken by the sudden understanding of her father's true character, well, she understands where her future lies, with Samuel Drummond, and with the police, with the true police.

I'm gonna sh**t the pair of them.

No, wait, wait, wait.

[Wolves whimpering]

Mr Reid is wise, Captain.

'Gustus.

Do not think me ignorant of how the intelligence of these wolves importation came to you.

Your wife's friend, Mr Waters.

Oh, Christ.

He will leave a pregnant widow, I believe.

[Cocks g*n]

'Gustus, p-please!

No! No!

I k*ll him, there is no way back for you, no case ever to be made.

But your boy will be well.

I give you my word.

He will grow strong, live in bright light and clean air.

And if I put a b*llet in your head, Mr Dove?

I have left instruction with Miss Chudleigh should I not return.

She cares for children, but she has no care for them, if you understand my meaning.

[Metal clanging]

[Wolves growling]

[Barking]

[Growling and snarling]

[g*ns sh*ts]

[Wolves yelping]

Now what?

He would have sent word.

It's gone midnight.

But it is Leonard, dear, sweet Leonard.

And what harm can come to such a man?

[Thwack]

Take your murderous hands off me. you are death.

[Thwack]

[Repeated blows]

That woman, get out!

[Crying]

[Body thuds]

[Sobbing]

[Door closes]

[Sobbing continues]

[Floorboards creak]

All that you have heard, Tilda, all that you must feel.

But you know this.

The love that I feel for you, it only swells further.

This is Mr Reid's bed.

No, Samuel.

It is ours now.

Evening to you, sirs.

Madame.

Thatcher, I always knew you were the one with the brains.

Cadogan's Dental Supplies... ain't none of you in need of falsies, last time I saw ya.

And there's a chewed up cadaver in your dead room, Captain, which is now pronounced a hoax.

Fine work, Thatcher.

I'm sure your new master will see you rewarded.

Where is Shine?

Drowning in his own poison and conceit, for all I care.

So, do you have three sets of irons with you?

I do not.

Mr Thatcher, what may we do for you, then?

He's as wicked a man as any I've met.

Shine?

Despite your low opinion of me, Mr Reid, I will see some good done in this uniform.

Now, I don't know if all that's now said of you three is true or not, but I will not serve him. [Crying]

Do you mean to help us, then, sir?

There is fishing and these is peace.

You will live quiet, easy... until all that may harm us will be put to rest.

Thank you, 'Gustus.