(LIGHT, PLUCKY MUSIC PLAYING) (KEYS JINGLING) HORACE (SINGS): Come unto these yellow sands, and then take hands.

Foot it featly... MATHILDA (SINGS ALONG): ...here and there.

BOTH (SING): And let, sweet sprites, the burden bear.

HORACE: 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.

HORACE: What was it they rescued you from, my Princess of the Faerinn?

MATHILDA: The fire on the water, Daddy Horace.

HORACE: Yes.

And who did they rescue you from?

Who did he say he was?

My father.

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.

HORACE: And who was he?

The Wicked King.

(OMINOUS MUSICAL STING) (TRAIN PASSING) (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) -When?

-This morning.

Or the night before, perhaps.

We said fresh.

This man is in rigor.

Look, do you want him or not?

Will it serve?

Well, look at him!

He's, he's rigid.

Can he be made to serve?

(SIGHS) What do you want it for?

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING) -All will be well, Myrtle.

-Only do as you promised.

-No more.

-Of course, my love.

Promise me you will be vigilant.

Take no risks.

I will be the meekest man you ever did see.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION) 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 had stripped Sergeant Thatcher?

All but for that flashman's hat he sports.

And the 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 rousted?

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

SHINE: Oh yes, Mr. Dove.

All gaming houses for word of the American.

Mr. Dove, do you doubt my vigor?

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.

(DOOR SHUTTING) (INDISTINCT CONVERSATION) Hush Connor.

I am a friend.

DOVE: Go on.

SHINE: Whereas I now understand it, Reid had his own theories on this cannibal killer.

He disagrees it was this man Croker killed those men.

Bennet Drake also.

He would be misguided in that belief, however.

Seems he clings to it with some determination, however.

JACKSON: "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.

-Oh, they are that.

It seems you too are also on the road to redemption.

Listen to this.

"More enquiring 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 are 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 am entirely uncertain how to respond to your notoriety.

-What am I to make of your bizarre requests.

-You have them?

-JACKSON: The falsies?

-REID: 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: Your latest victim?

-REID: Natural causes, Miss Morton.

Let me rephrase that.

Have you killed him?

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

Excuse me?

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

If we wait any longer this stiff's going to 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... We require teeth.

Oh!

Good God.

Do you intend to make another victim?

JACKSON: We need to break the mortis first.

(GRUNTS) (BONES CRACKING) Okay, move around all of you.

Could be a child's parlor game.

(JACKSON PANTING) -(JACKSON GRUNTS) -(BONES CRACKING) All right.

Do you have them?

REID: I believe the records had their uses when I took them.

I hadn't anticipated imitation, however.

JACKSON: Gonna have to screw down hard... Prize the flesh away.

MIMI: How charming!

Yes, men's work, I believe.

-Shall we?

-Let us.

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 but three editions past, you penned the report, true facts of how this man, whose reputation you now burnish, most likely placed a defenseless 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 neighborhood, 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 friends to the police, that is the story you ought to tell.

Do you threaten me, Mr. Dove?

Well you interpret it how you wish, Miss Castello.

But you see it done.

(CHIRPING) (DOG BARKING, ANIMALS CHITTERING) See how they love to play, Connor?

(CONNOR LAUGHS) (BARKING) I fear only that the boy will become spoiled, sir.

There is 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.

Then 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 endeavor to see you do not lack for a single thing.

I will be a father to you.

You choose your favorite, Connor.

Then we shall bring it home.

(ANIMALS CHITTERING) 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?

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.

Thatcher.

Inspector.

My apologies, sir.

A snitch reports, sir.

And I thought his intelligence worth a coin.

That being?

(SIGHS) Captain Jackson.

He and Miss Hart...

I mean, it is not as if she was the sole focus of his ardor, -down the years.

-If we roust each and every twat that man has inspected, the pair of us will 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.

Look, the pair of them were tight until 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.

And who this lady?

Well-to-do.

Fine silk, fine hair, fine carriage, you know... -Slum tourist?

-Yeah, of a kind.

-What kind?

-The dramatic, sir.

Playhouses.

Your games are ended then?

(KNOCKING ON DOOR) Are you expecting visitors, Mimi?

Oi, Police!

You will open these doors!

In there!

Open!

Open up, I say!

-(BANGING ON DOOR) -Police!

Open this door!

Quick, up into the lighting rigs.

-Miss Morton.

-Yes.

We've come for a show, lady.

-(MIMI LAUGHS) -One man here, other stage door.

MIMI: Watch your step.

-There are lights?

-There are.

SHINE: Ah!

Look at that, a theater.

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

Stepped out?

Hmm.

That is delicate phrase for a man in a velvet collar.

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

Oh, you mean a simile?

Although "stepped out" is perhaps more a metaphor.

Perhaps you'd best describe the thing itself?

All right then, let me ask you this, -were you... -Mm-hmm?

...and the man most widely known as Homer Jackson once joined by -- and --?

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 -- to his wife's -- instead.

You got friends 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 might 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... (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING) (HUSHED TONE) 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 theater burns, that fire will not stop 'til it meets the river.

(WHISPERS) Best you 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 that the world in its foolishness, considers of value.

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

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 the service of his manhood, when that manhood is... Well, more of a boyhood.

You get my meaning, Mr.

Shine?

SHINE: Thatcher... (BUCKET CLATTERING) With me, Thatcher.

Run along.

(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, all right?

-Are 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.

(LAUGHS) 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, as its end, sees you restored.

These two gone away, and that man, Dove, punished for all he has done.

REID: 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.

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 chopping block?

I wanna know you're safe is all.

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

(WHISPERING) Leonard, Myrtle.

Miss Susan.

Quick, before you're seen.

Look at you, Myrtle, 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.

But there's never enough we could do for you, Miss.

Not never.

Tell me, Leonard.

How fares my boy?

Oh, but he is a stout and fine young man.

As only could be expected.

-He is well then?

-He is well cared for, certainly.

-But not... happy?

-(MYRTLE POURS TEA) How could a boy be happy without his Ma?

But he is kept on a short line.

The woman Chudleigh.

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, and the gardens, Mr. Dove's gardens they are 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.

SUSAN: How do you find, Mr. Dove?

Too upright by half, as you ask.

And he is 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... No, now come Myrtle.

SUSAN: The, er, the house... Entrances, bed-chambers of the occupants.

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

I'm sure I may.

Here, the back stairwell...

This, Mr. Dove's rooms and this, where your Connor sleeps.

JACKSON: That's the way, brother.

Almost home.

(HUSHED TONE) Right, quick over here.

Well, do we say a prayer?

Pray that one deception is believed over the other.

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

(CROWD CLAMORING) THATCHER: Move!

Oi!

Oi, move!

Keep them back.

DOVE: What's that you say?

DIVISION 1: A new body with bite marks has been found, Mr. Dove.

DOVE: Another!

Where found?

By whom?

DIVISION 1: 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 times.

-Now!

-Yes, Mr. Dove.

Miss Chudleigh.

Good morning.

Waters.

The scuttle.

Of course, Miss Chudleigh.

DOVE: 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.

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 on it 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 murder of Inspector Bennet Drake.

DOVE: 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 am 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, extra-judicial murder.

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.

Care to share, Mr. Dove?

All in good time, Mr.

Shine.

(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) GRACE: Despite our sternest efforts, neither myself, Inspector Drake nor Captain Jackson could break down the iron grille, 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.

JACKSON: Jesus, Reid.

Horace Buckley...

They have everything.

Oh, Mathilda.

No, no, no.

Mathilda... GRACE: He would not open it 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 died after the second strike.

SHINE: Mr. Thatcher, what has befallen this neighborhood that it is a-burst with women who wish to hide their information from the police?

I 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 pliant 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?

Hmm.

Do you see?

There you go again.

And I tire of it, girlie.

Inspector!

Sir!

What, you object to my questioning?

No.

-You see, Miss... -(GASPING) SHINE: There is a battle currently played out.

Its field of conflict the pages of your dirty rag!

Hmm?!

Now its antagonists are my Mr. Dove.

And Mr. Edmund Reid.

(YELPING) Please.

I do not know what you mean.

Do you not?

It's that corpse.

It's that corpse!

Which all assume is your cannibal-killer back about it.

It is not.

Mr. Dove, he is a clever cat.

Now, but he ain't seen near enough dead bodies.

Them bite marks, hmm?

The yellow round the edges?

No lividity, see.

Carried out 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, hmm?

Why?

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

(SHOUTING) What is it?

What is it?

-(CASTELLO WHIMPERING) Please.

-Inspector Shine!

Please!

-(YELPS) -You moan like a bitch, I shall slap you like one.

You lack the stomach for my work.

Get out!

And shut the door behind you.

Get out.

CASTELLO: Please, Mr. Thatcher, please... Get out now.

Shut the door behind you!

(STRAINING) Now we are alone.

(CASTELLO YELPS) You speak or you shall know the full majesty of Jedidiah Shine's displeasure.

(GASPING) It is his brother.

-Whose?

-Mr. Dove's.

You be clear now.

Be clear.

What does Mr. Dove's brother do?

Reid believed him to have been the killer.

Hidden away for his mania.

Escaping to murder.

And Mr. Dove by necessity moving mountains to see blame shifted and that man protected.

Where this man now?

(WHIMPERING) I don't know.

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

You see, he does not know, neither where this killer brother of his is now hid.

His fear is that they will trap him first.

(SOBBING) Now... Come on, you're all right, you're all right.

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

-No... Then you shall hand that evidence to me now, hey?

Oh, shh... (SOBBING) JACKSON: Young Leonard took some risk gleaning this for you.

REID: Jamrach's?

-It's the menagerie.

-Leonard told me Dove had bought him a puppy.

Well, these ain't puppies.

Canis lupus lupus, the middle Russian forest wolf.

I have heard tales of such wolves, in such forests.

Augustus 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 arrival will be seething on that dockside.

A dockside well known to the creature Nathaniel Dove and where he is 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.

The same creatures as took their mother from them, brought to London from one brother to draw the other one out.

-They are a lure.

-REID: Granted, if Dove hopes to use these creatures to trap his brother, we may use them also to set a trap for them both.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING) (BARKING) (WOLVES HOWLING) (BARKING) (APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) 'Tilda!

'Tilda, please do not be frightened.

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.

And what of you, Father?

All of which you stand accused?

Mr. Buckley was not a big man.

Not nearly as big as you, Father.

Mathilda, Mathilda, please.

We will talk of that man in due course, but first, please hand this note to Drummond.

You broke his head open on a wood pillar.

You smashed his brains from him.

There is a testimony from Bobby Grace.

No shard of glass, no necessary defense of yourself, only murder.

A defenseless man killed 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 blamed.

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.

(INDISTINCT DISTANT VOICES) 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 this 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 has done all he might for us now.

Get him out of there.

We'll meet you after.

(DOOR CLOSES) (WOLVES HOWLING) (GLASS BREAKING) (ANIMALS CHITTERING) Shh.

Shh.

Aw, my.

My, but ain't you both beauties, hey?

-(DOOR OPENING) -(SNARLING) '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, there is a savaged man found.

It is not by your action?

-'Gustus, I have not... -Felt the hunger?

Well...

I feel it, yes.

But I feel also that it may be withstood.

Then I am glad.

They are magnificent.

'Gustus.

They are perfect.

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

Perhaps they see you for what you are.

Hello, Mr. Reid.

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.

The two.

She and he.

Your Mathilda, her world now so terribly shaken by the sudden understanding of her father's true character.

She understands where her future lies, with Samuel Drummond and with the police.

With the true police.

I'm gonna shoot the pair of them.

REID: No wait, wait!

DOVE: Mr. Reid is wise, Captain.

-'Gustus!

-DOVE: Do not think me ignorant of how the intelligence of these wolves invitation came to you.

Your wife's friend Mr.

Waters.

Oh Christ.

He will leave a pregnant widow, I believe.

(GUN CLICKS) 'Gustus, please!

No!

No!

If I kill 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 bullet in your head, Mr. Dove?

I've 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.

(SNARLING, BARKING) (WOLVES WHIMPERING) JACKSON: Now what?

He would have sent word.

It's gone midnight.

Myrtle.

It is Leonard.

Dear, sweet Leonard.

And what harm can come to such a man?

Take your murderess hands off me.

You are death!

Out woman!

Get out!

(SOBBING) (MYRTLE CONTINUES SOBBING) (DOOR CLOSES) (FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING) 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.

(GUN COCKING) Evenin' to you, sirs.

Madam.

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 you.

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 is as wicked a man as any I've met.

Shine?

Despite your low opinion of me, Mr. Reid.

I would see some good done in this uniform.

Now, I don't know if all that is now said of you three is true or not.

But I will not serve him.

Do you mean to help us then, son?

There is fishing, and there is peace.

You will live quiet, easy.

Until all that may harm us will be put to rest.

Thank you, 'Gustus.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) (MUSIC FADES OUT)