Send Lord Harwood to... the barbers.
Now, keep him alive... but break him.
You've met a fellow Christian.
Come along with me.
John Ripper... runs the East End.
You don't know what he does to people who disrespect him.
Working for a g*ng of violent, subversive fanatics isn't rash?
What fanatics are these?
You work for Martha Kane, who works for Thomas Wayne who works for the No-Name League.
Stop working against your Queen.
Or you'll all hang.
You were sent here to find and assassinate the leader of the Raven Society.
I'm the new leader that you came here to k*ll.
We were told to find out your name.
But you k*lled Mrs. Darkness.
That was an accident.
Everything's funny to you.
I had a mate called Spanish.
He used to say, "Life's either a comedy or a tragedy and you have to choose one or the other."
I prefer having a laugh.
I better be going.
Ez. Ez!
No.
I confess it took me a long while to get me nerve up, but...
I did.
And then it were too late.
I saw 'em, Peg.
The perpetrators.
I could have stopped them if I'd known.
Very tragic.
If true.
Peg, I swear on Mum's grave.
It weren't me.
A man and a woman, they had a key.
Any road, you stick to that.
I don't want to hear a different story tomorrow.
Why would I hurt her?
I loved her.
Where have I heard that before?
Wow. This is sad, huh?
Do the police have a suspect?
No.
Burglary gone wrong.
They say.
On the bright side... your identification of Mrs. Gaunt is a huge coup.
The leadership are very happy.
They send their love and gratitude.
Oh.
Is something wrong? Wrong?
We're at a funeral.
Funerals are sad.
You seem angry.
He didn't want to leave Esme alone.
But I persuaded him.
Yes?
This is on me.
This is my fault.
How on earth is this your fault?
That's absurd.
You're right.
Um...
I'm just being emotional, I'm...
I'm just upset, that's all.
Well, believe me, I get it. I'm...
I feel sad, too. I have to go.
Need a ride?
Uh, no thanks.
Well, I'll be in touch.
Poor lad.
Broken.
She were too good for him; he wouldn't have made her happy.
You don't know that.
She had class.
He doesn't, does he?
You can't teach class, can you?
Wait. What now?
Bloody hell.
_
Is it you?
Who... ?
It is you, isn't it?
Lord Harwood.
Remember me?
Miss Sykes.
I were in security section.
Sykes.
Oh, God.
What have they done to you?
Don't get too close, darling.
He bites.
Is it you that put this collar on him?
Safety of the public, Miss. Sad case.
You can't treat a human being like this.
You from the council?
No. Just me.
f*ck off, then.
Or suck my cock.
You tell 'er, Jack.
Either.
Sorry.
No bother.
Well, man. Good telling her, mate. Good telling...
Come along now, Your Lordship.
You're safe.
You're with friends.
What's going on? Who's this?
I know him.
He's me old boss. Oh, aye?
That must have been a good job.
He's coming with us. He's bloody not, you know.
Look at the state of him.
He's filthy.
Fine, I'll stay here, then.
I'm not going without him.
He needs help.
Oh, you're a bloody nutter, you are.
Come on, then.
Refill... top it up. All right.
Thank you. Thank you.
To Esme.
To Esme.
Thanks for coming, lads.
So, um, how are you since you've been back?
Not bad. Yeah, good.
Here's what I don't understand, Alfie.
What's that, Spanish?
If my bird got done...
I'd be out looking for the bloke that done her.
Why are you sat in bed?
I don't need to look for the bloke.
I know who done Esme and I know where he is.
Well, then, go and cut the evil bastard's throat.
You'll feel better.
I'm thinking about it.
f*ck thinking, mate.
Do it.
Who is he?
It was me, Spanish. I k*lled her.
Get out.
You're mugging me off. No.
It was me.
Well... I'm sure you had your reasons.
I was with another woman.
Well, there you go.
A man can't turn down a fresh plunge, now, can he?
It's not your fault.
You're not helping, Spanish.
f*ck off.
Easy for you to say.
I've got nowhere to go.
I know you can hear me.
He looks like a human now.
Almost.
Are you ready for your dinner now, pet?
Yes, please.
Wh-Who are you?
We told you.
That's Peg...
I'm Bet... Bet.
... and they're the Spicers.
Hello. Hello.
I used to work for you.
Really? Mm-hmm.
You're Lord Harwood.
Lord James Harwood.
H-Harwood.
I don't think so.
He's a bad man.
He's a very bad man.
Never mind, it'll come to you.
I'm not Harwood! All right, pet, all right, don't fret.
You're not Harwood, then.
We'll call you... Ginger.
Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are to receive from Thy bounty through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen. Amen.
Amen.
_
_ They'll know whose turf this is.
Hey! What you think you're doing?
Hey! No-Name League?
What the f*ck is this?
Raven Society!
Raven Society!
Ah!
Oy!
Oy! What are you doing?
What do you think you're doing?
_
_
Sir? You okay?
Joshua. You scared me.
Peace and freedom, sir.
Long live the No-Name League.
What's up?
The leader wants to see you.
Now?
Now. Come on.
This way? You're sure?
Yeah, come on. Keep going.
Keep moving.
Green. Might as well.
Very nice.
Keep them between the lines.
That's it.
Very good.
Ah. Welcome, Tom, welcome.
Join us.
Wonderful to see you.
Indeed.
Undine.
Julian.
Do sit.
Thank you for inviting me.
Thank you.
Peace and freedom.
Peace and freedom.
The brie's going off.
You must eat as much as you can manage.
Yes, ma'am.
The struggle continues, but it's not going well.
We're losing the battle on the streets.
This morning, I spoke to contacts inside the Raven Society. I told them we want a truce and I asked them to arrange a meeting between myself and Frances Gaunt to discuss terms.
I'm confident she'll agree.
We'll meet in a safe, neutral place.
Then we'll k*ll her.
k*ll Dr. Gaunt?
Well, isn't that rather extreme?
Or a little premature, at least?
Desperate times, desperate measures.
We need to strike back hard, or give up.
Our people are dying.
I want you to arrange the details.
Me?
I didn't sign up for that sort of thing.
Why did you sign up?
Well... peace and freedom.
It sounds trite, I guess, but what else is there?
What indeed?
Any death is terrible and sad, of course. Agonizing.
But we must sacrifice our finer feelings for the larger cause.
Don't you think?
Okay.
We're breaking several security protocols, meeting like this.
You better have a damn good reason, and you better make it quick.
I just met with the No-Name boss.
Julian Thwaite? The commissar himself?
With his wife, in his own house.
That's good. They trust you. I'm not so sure.
I got the distinct sense they know.
They know I'm CIA.
What makes you think that?
Just a feeling.
I can't send a report about your feelings.
He asked me to arrange the k*lling of Frances Gaunt, the Raven Society leader. Okay.
Okay?
Do as they ask. Commit m*rder?
As of now, we're still backing the status quo, but if it comes to civil w*r, we'd rather the No-Names prevail over the Raven Society.
Washington's A-OK with Gaunt's death.
But how do they even know?
Ah.
The CIA already knows because they engineered this.
You have a problem with that?
No.
Keep up the good work.
Maid's day off, huh?
What's up?
We have an assignment from the leadership.
Uh... good.
What are we doing?
You're, uh, you're ready to work, are you?
Absolutely.
Well, last time we met, you seemed, uh... in poor shape, mentally.
I'm fine.
I'm great. Raring to go.
Okay.
What's the job?
Well, I'll tell you when you need to know.
We'll have to use Pennyworth.
No.
No?
I mean...
No, I-I doubt he'll want to work for the No-Name League again.
Well, that's possible, but we'll need him for this one.
You'll have to be persuasive. Me? No.
Y-You want him. You go get him.
He doesn't trust me.
Not as much as he trusts you, anyhow.
He likes you.
You're wrong about that.
Are you refusing to go?
No.
Street fighting between red and black shirt hooligan elements continues to outrage decent citizens in the South East.
Over a dozen deaths have been reported this week.
The Home Secretary has condemned, in the... Nutty fools.
You, uh... gonna have your biscuit, son?
Eh? No.
E-Eat your biscuit, Alfie. Yeah?
Good lad. Good lad.
Put some fat on you. Eh?
Yeah.
I'll, uh, I'll be off to work now, son.
Your mum will be back soon.
Miss Kane.
Alfred. How are you?
Good.
May I come in?
How can I help you, Miss Kane?
I wouldn't have intruded on you, but I have orders.
The League wants you to come back to work.
Still doing what you're told.
Tell them no.
Tell them not to ask again.
I will.
Thank you.
I'm doing what I'm told because I need a reason to get up in the morning.
I can't help you, Miss Kane.
I won't do v*olence anymore.
I can't.
I understand.
Good luck, Alfred.
Good luck to you, too, Miss Kane.
So, that's the bird, is it?
The femme fatale.
Nice.
I'm not talking to you.
I reckon she's still up for it.
I said I'm not talking to you.
See if I care.
You're being too hard on yourself, Alfie.
f*ck me, that water looks good.
Shut up.
So you're responsible for Esme's death.
Big f*cking deal. It was an accident.
How many people have you k*lled deliberately?
Live with it.
You know he's right.
I'm not talking to you, either.
Esme would say the same as us.
We can bring her with us if you like.
She can tell you herself.
No. No, don't do that.
Please yourself.
Earl Grey or oolong?
f*ck off!
You all right, Alfie?
Yeah, I'm fine, Mum.
Sorry.
Daydream.
I'll put the kettle on.
No chance he'll change his mind?
I doubt it.
He said we should never bother him again.
Well, he really has cracked, hasn't he? Poor soul.
He was such a useful man.
Yes.
Useful.
Oh, well.
Never mind.
I shall just have to find somebody else.
Oh, I haven't done yet.
Here. Yeah...
There.
Okay.
Huh?
Look at me.
Bravo, Ginger.
My name is Ozymandias, king of kings.
Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair.
Ooh!
Oh, God.
You'll get the hang of it.
Hello, g*ng.
Haddock for tea. Smashing.
Ginger's got his new feet.
Show her, eh?
Doesn't he look grand?
Very handsome.
Oh... ooh.
You'll have the girls after you now, Ginger.
You better learn to run.
Did you say haddock?
I think I like haddock.
See?
Remembering better all the time.
Hello, Alfred.
I've been meaning to drop by for ages.
But winter's my harvest season.
Busy, busy, busy.
It's not the cold, you know. It's the darkness.
Tea?
A cup of water, please.
Pour one for yourself.
Drink up. It's good for you.
Mmm.
Nothing much better in life than a decent cup of water.
When I saw you at the funeral, I was worried about your survival.
I am so glad to see you getting better.
Much better. Sarcasm, Alfred.
You looking like a French dosser.
I'm sorry to see you like this.
I'm all right. You're a shameful mess.
Be that as it may, I believe you owe me a favor.
I don't keep close track, to be honest.
Yeah, I do... owe you a favor.
That makes it easier.
You can't refuse.
Refuse what?
Oh...
Morning, Mr. Ripper.
How nice.
Tea? No, thank you, Mrs. Pennyworth.
I won't be stopping long.
And I've had a cup of your excellent water.
Well, I'll, uh... I'll, uh... I'll just...
You're size ten. Yeah.
I normally I go running every morning with my friend Norris, but his legs got broken.
So, I need a new partner.
Running? No, I don't run.
Try them on.
See how they fit.
A glass of warm milk, please.
And would you tell Mr. Bashford and Mr. MacDougal that I'd like to speak with them, if I may?
Milk?
Warm.
Gentlemen.
This place has changed. Kind of a... rough crowd, huh?
Hard times.
How are you both?
Okay. Down to business.
I have a job for you, if you're interested.
No, thanks.
Well, wouldn't you like to hear what the job entails?
We're not pastry chefs.
Job doesn't entail jam tarts.
Well, nor would you be paid like pastry chefs.
Not interested.
You'd be paid extremely well, in fact.
You want someone blotted, eh?
Well, if "blotting" means what I think it means...
m*rder.
Blotting will do.
You've changed too, huh?
A gallus wee hard man now, isn't he, eh?
When you were such a righteous and respectable man.
Perhaps you read me wrong.
Evidently.
What's the pay? As if you don't have a price.
Let's hear what he's putting up, at least.
We're not murderers. You speak for yourself.
m*rder's no bother to me, at a price.
I've done worse for free.
The police are already watching us.
You want to f*ck with a gibbet?
Oh, this job won't trouble the police.
If they knew about it, they'd-they'd thank you.
The job pays 500 pounds.
Each? Each.
Chaps, there is turmoil in the ladies' room.
I'll be right there.
Oh, dear. Oh, dear.
Well, I'd much prefer to have two men.
But if only one of you took the job, he'd get the...
He'd get the whole sum.
1,000 pounds.
Daveboy... think.
I don't need you to tell me when to f*cking think.
I'm thinking all the f*cking time.
I'm thinking right f*cking now.
Mr. Bashford, please!
So?
What's the job?
London Echo. Only for a pence.
Paper. Evening paper.
London Echo? Paper, sir?
Come on!
Morning paper. Paper?
Morning paper.
Is that all you've got, Alfie?
Why have you brought me here?
Well, the ground's settled nicely.
Time to put down a stone.
Do you want granite? Marble?
Is there a particular color that you'd like?
You choose.
What about the inscription?
We've got the stock phrases, of course.
"Forever in our hearts." That sort of thing.
But you might want something more personal.
Are you trying to teach me a lesson, or are you just drumming up business?
Show some respect.
We're friends, Alfred.
I'm helping you.
I should get home. I'm cold.
Question, Alfred!
Do you really think Esme d*ed by accident?
Blind fate?
It was a robbery.
Police said so. Happens all the time.
It looked like a robbery.
It was a robbery. They took her ring.
Besides, she had no enemies.
True. She didn't.
Stop talking in riddles.
Isn't it obvious?
Esme was k*lled to make you suffer.
Her k*ller is watching you squirm, and he's laughing at you. You know?
You know who k*lled her?
You're touching me.
Right. Sorry.
I don't know who k*lled Esme.
But he knows you very well.
And you know him, I expect.
Who hates you so much that your death isn't enough?
Who hates you so much, he wants to watch you live a life of tortured misery?
Deep down, you know I'm telling you the truth.
If you like, I could put you onto somebody who might be able to help you.
Who? A friend.
They know who did it?
They know all there is to know.
You'll give me their name if I do something for you first.
See how your mind is already working better?
Feel the blood... flowing through you again.
What do you want?
Pint of best and a double gin, please.
Alfie.
You look very smart.
Court date, is it?
Alfie, you're looking much...
Bazza or Daveboy been in?
No. It's funny, that.
I've not seen them for a while as it goes. I was only...
If you see them, tell them I'm looking for them.
Yeah, of course. Everything all right?
I need your shotgun.
How much a*mo?
All of it.
Cheers. Cheers.
Sawed-off double-barreled Purdey.
That's a collector's item.
Swings left something chronic, but she'll do the job.
Thanks. I'll bring it back.
No bother, Alfie, anything you need, you know that.
Within reason, obviously.
Bye.
Oh. Have you heard anything of Jason Ripper?
No.
Up North, I've heard.
Begging and scrounging his way around Liverpool.
Those miserable Scouse...
No word he's been back town?
He wouldn't dare, 'cause I'll find about it.
So don't you worry.
I'm all shivery just hearing his name.
Has anyone else been slagging me off?
You, Alfie?
Why would you think that?
Everyone loves you, don't they, Sand?
Everyone.
If a name springs to mind, you let me know.
Throw your coppers, throw your coppers.
Box your face, throw your coppers.
Spare some change, guv'nor?
Sorry. Good fortune upon you.
Spare some change, sir?
Mr. Pennyworth. I am delighted.
How are you in yourself?
Well, Mr. Chadley. You?
Bloody depressed, I must tell you.
Look at this place. Unbridled debauchery.
Bazza and Daveboy around?
Mr. MacDougal doesn't work here any more.
Mr. Bashford is here.
We have been missing you like hell.
When do you think you can come back to work?
I'll let you know.
Bazza. Alfred.
Wha gwan?
You tell me.
What you see?
Daveboy's gone and you're high.
Correct.
You look better.
Yeah. I'm better.
Where's Daveboy?
Working for Thomas Wayne.
As a sh**t. What else?
Who's the target? I don't know.
Someone worth 1,000 pound.
Can you think of anyone who hates me?
Lots of people. Why you ask?
No, I mean, real hatred.
Can you think of anyone? Someone I've done wrong?
No.
What's going on, Alfie?
Straighten up, mate, then we'll talk.
Do dead people ever come back and haunt you?
What, ghosts?
No.
Don't you think?
There are no ghosts.
Have you seen one?
No. No. They're figments, the product of weak minds.
I can trust you, can I?
Yeah.
I know you know this.
You have to succeed tonight.
Trying hard won't count.
If you want that name.
Undine, do stop looking so anxious.
My anxiety is perfectly appropriate.
Your smug confidence is more the problem.
Don't worry, I know what I'm doing.
We're having a lovely dinner, that's all.
Don't be scared, smile.
Patronizing bastard.
Potted hare looks intriguing, doesn't it?
Ah, here she is.
Mrs. Gaunt, an honor and a pleasure.
My wife, Undine.
So happy to meet you. Indeed.
More carrots. Vite! Eh?
More carrots, scum, now!
Carrots? Uh, will do.
Who the f*ck are you? I'm new.
Merde. Who are you?
Let me go, pal.
You're a f*cking thief, aren't you?
Let me go. I'm asking you nicely, please.
f*ck off. You're going to jail.
And you are making a mistake.
It is you who are making the mistake, mon frère.
Ah, f*ck. Sorry. Ah!
Hands in the air! Everybody.
Here's to new friends and new horizons.
If you insist.
New horizons.
Thank you so much for meeting with us.
Yes, I was surprised to hear from you.
Oh, I'm surprised you were surprised.
All we've ever wanted is dialogue.
Of course we have our differences, but we have so much in common as well.
What, exactly?
We all love our country.
As you well know, love is not enough.
Oh, I disagree. Then you have a shallow mind, my dear.
Where's that bloody waiter?
You know, the truth is, we're not so far apart.
Both sides have suffered.
Both of us have lost good comrades and friends to this struggle, and we both believe we have right and reason on our side.
Bugger right and reason, we have God on our side and the numbers.
For every comrade we have lost, you've lost four.
You've come here to plead for a truce because we're so close to destroying your precious league of fools.
State your terms. I hope, for your sake, they're realistic.
Well, the, uh, the truth is, we don't take quite such a gloomy view of our prospect as you do. In fact, we're very optimistic.
I daresay you'd be the one proposing the truce, if you could see the whole picture.
The whole picture of what?
Would you please close your eyes, Madame?
Certainly not.
Ah!
Young man, what's your name? Daveboy.
You must stay awake. Stay awake, Daveboy.
You must stay awake. Yes.
Yes, yes, ma'am. I know the drill.
Sorry for all the bother.
Well, I should hope you are.
And bravo, by the way.
There's many a good man tried to do what...
Oh, shut up. You, come here. Oh, I swear to God, we had nothing to do with this. Nothing...
Shut up! Come here, you stupid woman!
Please don't hurt me. What do you take me for?
Come here, now!
Kneel down.
Put your hand here.
Pressing as hard as you can.
Right. Here we go, Daveboy.
Let me out!
Let us out this instant!
Back we go, over this way. Go!
Tie it tight, Undine.
For f*ck's sake. Daveboy?
Alfie? Alfie, is that you?
What've you done now?
I know that voice.
You're that black-haired young villain.
Is your lady friend here, too?
Who bloody else will appear, for God's sake? Good evening, Mrs. Gaunt.
This idiot is a friend of yours, I gather?
Never seen him before in my life.
Ah, ah, ah! Where you going? Sit down.
We're not done yet.
Thank you, Undine, you can let go now.
Can he move?
Well, it won't help.
He'll probably die anyway, so, by all means, tally-ho.
Come here.
Good night, ladies.
Come here.
Now stop your whining. Put me down, bastard.
Daveboy!
Who is it?
It's me, Sandra.
Oh, my...
Ah!
Is he all right?
Yeah, I've seen him worse.
Put that somewhere safe, and then phone Doc Christie.
Doc'll be here in half an hour.
Thank you.
Should I wake me dad?
No.
It seems as if they tried to k*ll each other and Mrs. Gaunt prevailed.
Aside from Julian Thwaite, the dead are men of no interest.
I assume we should strictly go through the motions.
Yes, yes.
Mrs. Gaunt, a ruthless k*ller, by Jove.
Gracious me.
I didn't think she had it in her.
I was surprised, also, Your Majesty.
Well, this will sink the bloody No-Name League for good.
They're already in a shambles, and now their beloved leader is dead.
Mm. Ding-dong.
Quite so. The widow, Mrs. Thwaite, has been appointed pro tem leader, pending elections.
The poetess? A potter, I believe.
A potter. Oh.
Even funnier.
Well, brava, Mrs. Gaunt, eh?
That lady has done us a great favor.
We must remember that when we have her in irons.
I feel nothing.
What did you hope to feel?
Joy.
Freedom.
Empowerment.
You're still in shock.
And now your husband is dead.
England will soon be yours, my girl.
Rejoice.