-REID: Where is she?

-Who?

My daughter that you had me believe was dead!

Think on what you do.

There is hell to be raised, Fred, and I am to raise it.

Where the Ripper did his work, my daughter now follows.

-Who am I?

-You are my daddy?

(BOTH SOBBING) This is everything you need.

It's Ronald Capshaw named in the transaction of US bearer bonds to pounds sterling.

I come for you.

I'm shot.

-(PEOPLE CHATTERING) -(MAN LAUGHING) ♪ Edmund Reid was a man of Whitechapel ♪ (PEOPLE CHEERING) ♪ With a vow to protect all the streets and their people ♪ ♪ Dreamed this cursed place was a place he might save ♪ ♪ So raise up your glass ♪ ♪ To the fight that he gave ♪ (PEOPLE CHEERING) ♪ Fifty-five souls, their lives torn away ♪ ♪ By a train not of steam, but of fire and thunder ♪ ♪ And five to the gallows, only pawns in the pay ♪ ♪ Of a black-hearted coward caring only for plunder ♪ (CROWD BOOING) ♪ Our Ed Reid did bleed ♪ - ♪ on the ground black and cold ♪ -MAN: Here he is.

-The great Reid.

- ♪ in a sleep without end ♪ ♪ It surely ain't long before brave Ed Reid dies ♪ ♪ Whitechapel, you never deserved such a friend ♪ Come on!

(PEOPLE CHEERING) ♪ Edmund Reid was a man of Whitechapel ♪ (CHEERING) ♪ With a vow to protect all the streets and their people ♪ ♪ Dreamed to save a cursed place which no man can save ♪ Take a drink, Reid.

♪ So raise up your hands to his Whitechapel grave ♪ Thank you very much.

(CRASHING AND SHOUTING) (GRUNTING) That's a pretty face.

-(GROANS) -(WOMAN SHRIEKS) Teddy, I am sorry.

(GROANS) Steady, Walter.

Steady, brother.

No, no.

I'm sorry, Mr. B.

Sorry you felt the urge to test our promise to you.

Sorry you made us ask twice.

Please, Teddy.

It won't happen again.

I know, Mr. B. I know.

Away we go, my boys.

(HOOTING) (GROANS) Know this.

Your good landlord brings this violence down.

But he sees his transgressions now, do you not, Mr. Bartleby?

(WOMAN SHRIEKS) (DISTORTED SHOUTING) (LAUGHS) (THEME MUSIC PLAYING) (SIGHS) Work today?

No Mr. Reid, they must have need of you.

Fill his boots.

And I have told them before, they are heavy boots.

Too heavy.

And the boots of your friend, also.

I should go.

Whilst it's still early, I mean.

Time was you might have walked out of here, and no soul to comment on it.

Time was.

Time will be again, eh?

Once we have declared the truth and must no longer hide ourselves.

We have agreed, Bennet.

It must be done right.

For it to be right, Rose, it must be done.

He is not your look-out.

He is mine.

(KNOCK ON DOOR) ABBERLINE: Mr. Drake!

Open this door or I shall put my foot through it.

Half 7:00 of the morning, and you not yet ready to meet the world?

Consider this an apposite moment to be getting your bone smudged, do you?

My hours are my hours, Chief Inspector.

And your duty?

Inspector.

A polite invitation.

I have an address I would have you visit.

My thanks, Chief Inspector, perhaps another day?

Now, Drake.

Or I shall see Miss Erskine's name in the news for altogether different reasons.

(MIMI KNOCKING ON DOOR) (SIGHS LOUDLY) I have knocked, I have shouted.

But no reply.

He's either elsewhere or he is insensible.

My intuition leans to the latter.

As does mine, miss.

MIMI: Be my guest.

(GROANS) (CRYING OUT IN PAIN) Another, Miss Hart?

Perhaps by the window?

(CLEARS THROAT) (CAMERA CLICKS) It's better, I think.

Yes, the light is forgiving.

And how, now you have come to understand the full extent of Mr. Capshaw's wickedness, does it feel to know you had, for so long, harbored such a villain?

I am wretched with it.

But some succor is found, I hope, in the knowledge that the 55 now have their justice.

That he is dead.

Yes.

The world is better for the lack of that man.

But that it necessitated the loss of Mr. Reid... Loss, madam?

His condition worsens?

It is not improved.

I can only thank God I found him when I did.

Mmm-hmm.

Just, uh, one more question, Miss Hart.

-Of course.

-It is only this.

The bearer bonds, the transaction of which brought Mr. Reid to your door.

What of them?

Where are they?

I only wish I knew, Mr. Best.

That intelligence was scattered to the winds along with Mr. Capshaw's brains and the Inspector's buckshot.

And still no soul to come forward and say, "Mine.

They were my securities robbed from that locomotive."

It is, um... A mystery.

Is it not?

Well, madam, I have no doubt that our readers shall thrill and lament, of course, to this exclusive witnessing you offer.

For that, I offer you my innumerable thanks.

I am at thy service, Mr. Best.

ABBERLINE: Dr. Frayn.

A simple question for you.

Yes, Chief Inspector.

Is this man currently alive?

He is not dead, sir.

Then we have clarity.

He's shot through the abdomen.

He's shot through the head.

He shows no sign of consciousness.

It is why we have made no attempt to move him elsewhere.

We fight the sepsis in his side.

The bullet impacted the skull.

The swelling there will be intolerable... Dr. Frayn, is he dead?

He is not, sir.

You.

American.

Repeat what she just now told us.

He's not dead.

Mr. Drake.

Mr. Drake.

You look at him.

Repeat the doctor's prognosis.

He is not dead.

ABBERLINE: He is not dead.

This man now lies here because his sense of duty is greater than any other he holds.

You may argue the toss of such wisdom, but the fact remains.

Meantime, Inspector Drake, you will do him the honor of not debauching yourself while his streets burn.

You, Yankee, this man yet lives, but there are others now dead awaiting us at Leman Street I would have your renegade eyes upon!

Doctor.

A man made into 18 Imperial gallons.

Where was he found?

Grace?

That your name, is it?

Grace?

It is, Chief Inspector Abberline.

Then answer your inspector.

This barrel, where was it found?

Great Pearl Street, Chief Inspector.

Street's in the heart of that rioting last night.

Rioting our men might have been out there preventing.

No sign of where he was from, or who he might be?

No, sir.

I shall get myself to Great Pearl, therefore.

See if this man is known there.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING) (REGISTER DINGS) Found you.

(DOOR OPENS) (WOMAN GIGGLING) Disturbing you, am I?

Delivery from The Black Eagle Brewery.

Who for?

Old Bartleby.

The landlord?

You'll be waiting a good old whiles.

The man is dead.

Dead?

How?

As yet to be determined.

He was found jammed inside one of them barrels out there, however.

Did you know him?

Uh, he took port from us, our stout also.

You, miss.

Did you know him?

A wave hello.

Have a glass off him.

No more.

You are the draper's girl, are you not?

Your shop front out there.

All this violence passed through, your premises exempted.

What can I say?

Pretty dresses, aren't they?

Well, best be about, then.

Sir.

Miss.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER) MATHILDA: Uncle Ben!

Uncle Ben!

Uncle Ben!

Mathilda, what are you... COBDEN: Mathilda.

Mr. Drake.

Hello.

-Miss Cobden.

-MATHILDA: Uncle Ben.

We are going to visit my daddy.

Will you come?

-No, Mathilda.

I... -Why not?

Please, Mathilda.

And now we have found each other, Mr. Drake, a word perhaps?

Yes.

Mathilda, could you give Mr. Drake and I a moment?

Mr. Drake.

I do not mean to be indelicate, but with her mother gone, discuss what would be best for Mathilda now?

Where, for example, will she live?

Who will take care of her?

Please, miss, I...

He is not yet... Not dead?

No, but...

I do not think she will want to remain with me.

Uncle Ben.

Please.

Do not be so sad.

My daddy will recover.

-Teddy.

-Walt.

What you been about, Walter?

Been about my work, Ted.

I meant old Bartleby.

-Thought it'd please you.

-Really, brother?

(COUGHS) Please me?

Who said you might kill Bartleby?

It was not sanctioned, Walter.

My brother or not, you follow orders!

(COUGHING) My orders, Walter.

(GROANS) But you... You do see, Teddy, a time comes when your sanction is neither here nor there.

You're sick, Ted.

Too sick to lead us.

This here, all others, they must know the day has arrived.

There is another they may look to for their directing.

TEDDY: And what?

You hope to prove your steel, do you?

Show what vengeance means?

Eh?

But, Teddy.

These publicans, they must know what will befall them, should they cross us.

You of all, Teddy, you know what it is to be feared.

What it is to take a life for our cause.

Or do you forget what you did up The Feathers?

No.

Not while I'm alive.

Not while I'm dead!

-Never again, do you hear?

-(POLICE WHISTLE SOUNDS) GRACE: You leave that boy alone now!

Let him be!

(CHUCKLES) All right, lad.

All right.

You're with me now.

Thank you, sir.

Two, you say, Mr. Shipman?

As I saw.

Two.

They set about him with a cooper's froe, Sergeant.

Known to you already?

Never laid an eye on none of 'em.

It did not seem that way to me, Walter.

Seemed to me you knew them all well.

On Jesus Christ himself.

(CHUCKLES) Will there be aught else, sir?

Or am I to be arrested for my own battery?

(SIGHS) WALTER: Do you forget, Mr. Grimes, that the men of The Black Eagle are not to be crossed?

(GRUNTS) What is that, his lungs?

You are a good deal steelier than you used to be.

Don't think I haven't noticed.

And they are cut out for why?

Well, by my reckoning, I'd say this man was drowned.

Reckoning?

Was he or was he not?

JACKSON: Chief Inspector Abberline!

And so?

You see this here?

Now, the French have a name for that.

Champignon de mousse.

And why should I care what the bloody French call anything?

Now, a man is never too old to learn something.

A man is never too old to put his boot up an American's --!

Now, as drowning occurs, the, uh, blood cells in the lungs, they break down and a foam is forced all the way up through the air passage.

Now, this residue, that's what remains.

(FAINT SQUISHING) -You hear that?

-Mmm.

That's crepitation.

That there is the sound of air against liquid.

But he is not sodden.

His body shows no signs of being in water.

This is true, Inspector, and yet the man is drowned.

Mr. Abberline, any thoughts?

He is held down and it is poured into him.

He is choked by whatever liquid was used.

(CLICKS TONGUE) And the liquid?

What was it?

JACKSON: Take a sniff.

It is beer.

Think to take advantage, do you?

Well, we will not suffer it, do you understand?

No, sir.

Not no longer.

No second chances.

No indulgence.

I'm gonna make an example of you, sir.

(MUFFLED SCREAMING) (COUGHING) (WHEEZING) (INDISTINCT TALKING) Now Drake, listen.

We come to take in a show, not perform in one ourselves, you understand?

Do not worry about me, Captain.

(MUSIC PLAYING) You.

That's you.

Darlin'.

You forgive me, don't you?

For the pig?

Unlikely.

If you are to take anything else to your bed, do try to make sure it has a pulse first.

-Now, why are you here?

-Ah, well, I've come with... (INAUDIBLE) -(MUSIC ENDS) -(APPLAUSE) (INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS) Excuse me.

Bennet, what are you doing here?

I want you to speak to him tonight.

No, Bennet, I told you I shall choose a time.

-Where, Rose?

How?

-Not like this.

I'm sorry, Rose, I... Is there a past between the two of them?

Past is one word.

I fear for us.

I fear we shall lose each other again.

-Rose?

Hello.

-Hi.

-You were so wonderful.

-Oh, thank you.

(INDISTINCT) Oh, thank you so much.

[no audio] Mr. Morton.

Inspector.

I... We're leaving now, brother.

Here, Inspector.

Thank you, Doctor.

Ma'am?

Excuse me.

Do you believe in...

In pain?

I cannot say, Inspector.

But whatever Mr. Abberline might say, he will die.

Will he not?

BOY: Paper, get your papers here.

Morning papers!

Obsidian double shooting.

Miss Hart speaks out.

Morning papers!

I'll have one of those, son.

Morning papers.

Truth behind the Obsidian shooting.

Miss Hart speaks out.

Morning papers.

Morning papers.

His name was Grimes, we are told.

Landlord at The Hogshead on Old Queen Street.

This is the reward of peace on the streets.

One more dead publican!

Contusions to his nose to force his mouth open.

The teeth are chipped where the vessel was forced into his mouth, and we've got the same residual foaming around the nose and lips.

Same murdering.

Same profession.

Same presentation.

-If you please, Chief Inspector.

-What, boy?

Might I be excused but two minutes only?

Excused?

What?

Do you tend to your toilet, Duchess?

No, sir.

But it is material to what we now discuss.

Material?

Is it?

Just go.

Now.

Will you share what it is you consider to be quite so material that we here have to wait upon your pleasure as if you were the emissary of the Ottoman Emperor himself?

I...

Yes, Chief Inspector.

A lad I found yesterday, down a laneway off the back of Corbett's Court, set upon by two others.

I brought him here to make a complaint.

Patched him up.

But there was something...

He was gobby, sir.

And did you arrest him for having a big mouth, then?

I did not.

I went looking for him, however.

-And found?

-No record of him.

I did find the lad's brother, however.

He is here represented.

"Edward Shipman.

Assorted counts of affray.

Known kin, a brother, Walter.

Younger by six years.

No other family, orphans."

Walter is the lad you brought here, yes?

-Just see below, Mr. Drake.

-Yes, Mr. Drake, see below.

"A charge of murder.

Three years past.

A Mr. Daniel Parker."

See his profession, Inspector.

"Publican.

The Feather's on Underwood Street.

The place burnt to the ground.

Mr. Parker found alone within, burnt to a char.

But his bones and body still showing signs of the attack he suffered.

Leg broke with a blunt instrument, most like made of steel."

The attack he suffered when I found him was set about by a cooper's froe.

I wonder if it was this older brother Edward who led the attack on Walter in the laneway.

Let me see that file.

You ever seen a cooper's froe at work ever?

It's a wooden handle.

T-shaped blade.

It's used for the splitting of wood.

A man smashes it in with his fist and the blade is used to waggle the split free.

These limbs here, they're all broken at the joints.

The sockets are popped, the sinew spliced, but not a mark on their skin.

It's the same thing with this man, Grimes, also.

Both of these men, cozied into their housing with nary a scratch on them.

The barrels were built around them.

They're drowned in their beer.

Their bodies are broken down to the exact size, and they're coopered into a firkin.

It is skilled work by skilled workmen.

See, Inspector Drake?

Edward Shipman was apprenticed to the coopers at The Black Eagle Brewery at 16.

He's worked there ever since.

And the charge against him?

What became of that?

"Alibi came forward.

Miss Lily Timpson.

Apprenticed to a drapers."

Lily Timpson?

I've met this girl.

I've seen her shop, it is on Great Pearl Street.

As does The Lamb and Kidney, Mr. Bartleby here's house.

Streets through which that un-policed riot swept two nights passed.

And hers, the only windows not smashed in.

You, Duchess.

Find a man, send him to Queen Anne Street.

This here other publican, Grimes.

All and everything to tell about his life and work.

Have it returned to us here.

You, meanwhile, shall go fetch Miss Timpson, she who finds herself immune to insurrection.

Yes, Chief Inspector.

Mr. Drake.

You and I shall take a trip to The Black Eagle Brewery and have a word with Mr. Shipman.

Yes, sir.

You, Captain Fancy Pants.

The brew poured down these men.

You have the means to find its nature?

Yeah, you ask me that way, I got the means to find out about anything you want.

What you ask, gentlemen, is no simple thing.

One apprentice to be remembered amongst so many?

You see here?

This cathedral.

Some say The Black Eagle might be the biggest brew house in the world.

Millers, malters, mashers, lauterers.

Lads to watch the boil, lads to watch the filtering.

And lads for the coopering.

Many, many hundreds of lads.

And I am asked to remember one off the top of my dear old head?

DRAKE: There are records, however.

You keep note of who is apprenticed, who is employed?

Well, we must do somewhere.

Fortunate for you, however, I do know the lad.

-DRAKE: All right.

-The lad is known.

This way, gentlemen.

(MACHINERY WHIRRING) (LOUDLY) He's not been well these past few months.

So I brung him in here to work with me.

Through here, gents.

Well.

Always a pleasure to put a name to a face.

Eh, Mr. Shipman?

You pack up your work, and get your coat, boy.

ABBERLINE: Mr. Drake, make his arrest.

Suspicion of murder.

Daniel Parker.

This is raked over again, is it?

Aye, son.

It is.

I was nowhere near.

It was proved.

It was lied.

(SCOFFS) A man like you, a gruff copper.

He took my irons off and set me free.

I was innocent of that.

As I surely am of whatever it is you now think to accuse of me.

Frederick Grimes of The Hogshead.

-Do you recall him?

-I do not.

He is a stranger to me, sir.

John Bartleby.

-You knew him, however.

-I did.

I met you, sir, inside his smashed-up pub.

ABBERLINE: Was it you who smashed it, Mr. Shipman?

It was not.

Was it your brother, Walter, smashed it?

I'm not my brother.

I cannot speak for him.

You were seen, however, giving him a right belting, just yesterday.

Brothers do fight, Inspector.

You were trained as a cooper, however, Mr. Shipman?

I was.

Could you put a man in a barrel, should you wish it?

Without a single scrape on him?

That would be a task, and no mistake, I would not know where to begin.

My life... How many questions have I asked how many young fellas like you?

On that, I must also declare myself ignorant, sir.

Then I shall tell you.

Sufficient to know when I am lied to.

(GRUNTS) No, sir!

(GASPING) (COUGHING) You, man.

Bring me the American, now.

Well, remove his irons, will you?

(WHEEZING) (COUGHING) How long have you been living with consumption, Teddy?

Six months, perhaps seven.

And you've not had it treated?

Men have tried.

I'm not far off now, am I, sir?

No, you're not.

And unlikely to find the required strength to see those men beaten and broken and housed in their firkins.

(SIGHS) Your brother, however, he has the same training.

Training that might put a man in a barrel.

Is that why you beat him?

Has he put his training to work?

How many times must I say it?

(GASPS) He is of age.

I am not my brother's keeper.

Give us a minute, will you?

(WHEEZING AND COUGHING) (INHALES DEEPLY) (INHALES AGAIN) I have an older brother, you know.

And how is it?

You spend a good deal of time looking up for example.

So much time, that example becomes your second nature.

You say you're not your brother's keeper, but you are.

These actions he takes, he only does so because you have done so before.

And your brother.

Would you betray him?

-He betrayed me.

-(CHUCKLES) That's not what I asked you, is it, sir?

Miss?

You are Miss Lily Timpson?

And you are a policeman?

Miss Timpson, if you will stop, please.

You are to come with me to Leman Street.

There are questions to be answered.

Are there indeed?

On what subject?

All will become clear, miss.

Please, follow me.

(GRUNTS) All right, Lil?

This one harassing you?

(WHISTLES) Let us get this bluebottle bagged.

Bills and invoicing for all liquid stock at The Lamb and Flag.

This here, the same for The Hogshead, Grimes' house.

Here, two months past, Bartleby changes his supplier.

Decides his mild and his pale ale will now be supplied and delivered from the Burton-on-Trent breweries.

Two weeks past, Grimes makes the same decision.

ABBERLINE: A man might accordingly lay good money that the gravely injured Mr. Parker ordered the same at The Feathers.

And don't you want to know why?

The American, whose range of expertise is so breathtakingly vast that it now fixes itself upon the beers and brews of the United Kingdom.

The beer, that rank soup that you all pour down yourselves like it's Victoria's own bathwater, and that which was forced into our two publicans, now, there was something of notice.

The water content.

The alkalinity was low.

Soft water, heavy in sulfites.

-Not London water.

-Not London water, but Burton water, from the bloody North.

Those sulfites better suited for that mellow fruitfulness that you enjoy in your brew.

But North Country beer drunk on these city streets, over which The Black Eagle of The London Brewery soars, local men might be put out of local work.

And so?

What?

The young men of the brewery act to show the publicans the error of their ways?

A body of young men set on protecting an institution which gives them more than only their work.

It educates them, gives them a sense of belonging.

They act to protect both their product and their traditions.

But those men in their barrels.

Their limbs are broken and packed like animals.

I mean, that's both fierce brutality and sharp escalation from your man Parker at The Feathers.

Maybe this younger Shipman uses this brutality to mark himself out for later.

(HURRIED FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING) Ahem.

Mr. Abberline, Mr. Drake, you must hear this.

Grace has been taken.

Do you know what will befall me, sir, if they know I have come here and told you?

And yet you are here, miss.

You and your Teddy both.

No word of a lie.

We have him.

He who is not a great many days longer for this life.

The lad, PC Grace, he who came to find you, he is a good lad, a kind lad.

You could tell, I'm sure.

He is.

I could.

And you are come here now because you fear for him.

It is Walter that has taken him, is it not?

And he is a cruel one, Mr. Drake.

It is only Teddy who knows how to keep a lid on him.

But Teddy is here, now.

And so it's not merely a bruising he will hand out to our bobby Grace.

He has killed, Lily.

Twice.

(SIGHS) A whiles ago, a long whiles ago, you lied to the police to protect your Teddy.

Did you not?

You wish to make amends for your lies, you might have words with Teddy.

Persuade him it is best for all that he speak.

Tell us where we will find our boy.

LILY: Hey.

Now, what he does, he does for you.

To show you that he might also use murder to protect The Black Eagles' work.

Therefore, his acts are your acts.

You're dying, Teddy.

You want to do a good thing before you die?

(MEN CLAMORING) WALTER: See here, my men.

A blue boy.

A blue boy who now takes his place in our story.

A blue boy who shall be spoke of and remembered for what will now befall him.

I know you fear what will come once my Teddy has left us.

But this here, what now comes to pass, shall offer us safeguard for a hundred years.

Please.

-Please listen.

-Do not listen!

I'm not so different to many of you.

Yourself, Walter... You put me in a barrel, Walter Shipman, you will gain nothing but your own destruction.

WALTER: Destruction?

Not our destruction, Constable.

But our glory!

(YELLING) (GRUNTING) You see, the others, it was their own brew I made them swallow.

But you, you shall know a little more of what we here defend.

It will be London beer you now drink.

(GROANS) (GAGGING) Mr. Snelling!

This a surprise for you, is it?

Of course.

What is it you do?

Do?

I come to take my boy back from your boys.

And do not be thinking that I believe them able to organize themselves to such a degree without their master offering a helping hand.

-(GRUNTS) -(GROANS) You show us now.

TEDDY: That'll do, Walt.

(GRACE GAGS) I'll snap his neck.

Teddy, you friend to the police now, are you, brother?

My fight was never with the police, Walter.

And neither is yours.

Who is that lad to deserve our anger?

A murdering for a brew?

-For beer?

-But you, Teddy.

You set the mark.

You showed us the way.

By ending the life of Parker of The Feathers, you mean?

Killing a man for not taking our pale ale?

It was never meant, Walt.

I gave him a couple of hits, yes, but that was all.

The fire?

I knocked over a lantern, didn't I?

Smashed the place up good and proper.

He was all sloshed with brandy and... Whoosh.

He went up, and I ran.

That is all.

And if we have lived of a similar fear since, that was not my intention.

All things must pass.

I must.

You must.

This whole building must.

Let him be.

Let him be.

ABBERLINE: Now!

(INDISTINCT CHATTER) Grace.

You hear me?

Look at me.

(MEN GRUNTING) OFFICER: Move it!

-Turn around, Teddy.

-Move it!

(TEDDY WHEEZING) (PERSISTENT COUGHING) Captain Jackson, I am not sure I've ever been sent for before now.

For the life of me, I cannot think why I have responded.

Mimi, do you think we might forego the back-chatter?

Then why on earth am I here?

This day, I feel the hand of death, Mimi.

I look back into the past, and I see what made me, and I just...

I feel sick with it.

And I would like to rest my head on the lap of someone who...

Someone... Oh, God damn it.

You are the only thing I have in this world to take the lead from my limbs.

-Well, this is a day for firsts.

-Please.

You can use that tongue of yours to whip strips from me every other hour we pass together.

But please, just tell me, am I a fool to rest this hope in you?

A fool, certainly.

But not one misled.

Kill him!

Hello.

Mr. Reid?

Edmund?

Sir... Who am I?

(MUSIC PLAYING) ♪♪