Look, The Golem.

(BARKING) What's that?

(THUNDER BREAKS) (RAIN FALLING) -(CLANKING) -(BOTH GASPING) (THEME MUSIC PLAYING) (PEOPLE CHATTING INDISTINCTLY) WOMAN: Oh, wait!

Stop!

There's someone there!

MAN: What?

WOMAN: Oh!

Look, he's covered in blood.

He's dead.

DRAKE: I do not say you did not see it, I only say that what you saw, it was not real.

It cannot be real!

ROSE: Was as real as you are now, Bennet Drake.

I don't know how many times I need say this.

The woman is dead.

I saw it myself.

Her ankles a-twitch.

Dead!

Then how?

I am not mad.

I am not that.

I saw her!

It is because you cannot rest.

-You are sleepless.

-(WHIMPERS) Rose, any woman would suffer so.

Their senses adrift, frayed through lack of rest.

You must rest, Rose.

-Please.

-MATHILDA: Uncle Bennet?

Perhaps this is not, after all, the best time.

No child.

This, this is good.

We are... We are glad you have come.

Please, sit.

It is Mathilda, my love.

As we sit come to watch the lad awhile.

Give him some lunch and his tea and allow you some sleep.

Let those frayed senses of yours to knit again.

Only sleep, my love.

All will be right again.

And do not forget... Miss Susan was your dear friend.

And in your heart you must yet mourn for her.

No, Bennet.

That bitch means to steal our child.

Finished.

Do you understand?

Only for real this time.

Our boy never clapping eyes on us, as long as he lives.

Unless it's a newspaper photograph the pair of us with ropes around our necks!

What was I supposed to do, Matthew?

He called to me.

My son, he called to me.

Ought I to just have abandoned him once more?

You want to know what he's gonna look like as a grown man?

Teach him to ride?

Watch him fall in love the first time?

You want to know those things to pass, then yeah!

You goddam ought to have left him there to wail for you.

Oh, you're a man.

You don't understand.

Oh, that's a fine apology!

Oh, I must apologize now, must I?

To you?

Who I would otherwise consider the bane of my life -were banes not altogether more bearable!

-Oh, no.

No, no, no.

You are not going to deflect this on to me.

It's I, that must go to my place of work, a police station, and pray to God that my chief's wife is not believed when she says she saw a dead woman walk by her window last night!

Oh, she won't be.

She was... She was barely awake, she was sleep-walking.

And besides, as you would say, "I am dead."

Whoever would believe her, hmm?

Well.

We're soon gonna find out, won't we?

(BREATHING HEAVILY) I need my laboratory, don't I?

Potassium nitrate to make this lock-cracker for your little escapade tonight.

And it must now happen tonight, must it?

It must.

You think you can sway silver-beard to that way of thinking?

Leave Abel to me.

If I'm not back here by 10:00 tonight, you just assume me taken.

Make all further arrangements without me.

Only you make them fast, do you hear me?

Then you get yourself gone.

Bane of your life, huh?

(MAN SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY) CROKER: "In recognition of his outstanding achievement "in the reorganization "of the Metropolitan Police Detective Department, "her Majesty the Queen... "Last night, bestowed the Companion of the Order of The Bath to Assistant Commissioner Augustus Dove."

DRUMMOND: "This ceremony took place at Toynbee Hall.

"Where no lesser personage than Joseph Chamberlain, the Colonial Secretary, conferred the honor."

Oh, hold up, Drum.

It's the father-in-law.

Good morning, Mr. Reid.

Drummond.

Thatcher.

Morning, Mr. Reid.

Hey, sir.

Have you seen?

Assistant Commissioner Dove got a bauble for his coat.

Do you disrespect this country's heraldic traditions, Sergeant?

Who?

Me, Mr. Reid?

Still...

It's a wonder is it not, where a common fellow may rise to these days?

Oh, you work hard, Thatcher.

Who knows how far you may travel?

Oh, I do not speak of myself, sir, no.

Happy as he is, that's Frankie Thatcher.

No, it's Drum here that I ask for.

Indeed?

And why might Sergeant Drummond thank you for inquiring after his prospects?

He is my friend, is all.

And I know how he means to be, er, to be well-thought-of in this world... Frank!

Enough!

Oh, he is well-thought-of, Mr. Thatcher.

I can vouch for that.

(TELEPHONE RINGING) Leman Street.

Body found up the back of Heneage.

Mr. Reid, wait if you please!

Men come.

Rope the area off as good as you can.

The body...

It is a dead man.

One known to us, sir.

And who that, Mr. Drummond?

JACKSON: Drake.

Jackson.

Quiet night?

Quiet enough.

So the boy he's settling on, then?

He does.

REID: Mr. Drake.

A man's body is found.

Murdered, so it's said.

Who is it attends?

I feel we must.

Who is it, Mr. Reid?

Captain, yourself also.

Tell me who it is, Inspector!

I am sorry, Bennet.

DRAKE: Get out of the way.

Move it!

You men, I want these ghouls 10 yards further back!

Oh, Thomas.

Street fight...

Knife wound.

Gave as good as you got, did you not, Thomas boy?

There will have been over two hundred pairs of boots up and down here since sun-up.

Any signs that may have been read will have been trod and kicked into obscurity.

The boy wasn't killed here, however.

You see his knees?

Grooves and abrasions and his hands likewise.

It's gravel rash.

He was...

He was dragged.

Dragged himself.

Woodseer Orphanage is three streets north of here.

Home.

There is this violent altercation.

The assailant takes the knife to finish the matter.

Leaves him.

And so he crawls to where he might feel safe.

DEBORAH: You let me through!

Let me through!

Let me see him!

-Oh... -REID: Deborah.

Oh!

Who has done this to him?

REID: Miss Goren, let us do our work.

And what use is that work, Edmund Reid?

What use to us all!

REID: Please.

Please!

Let me walk you home.

You cannot help him now.

Sergeant Drake as you once were, think of this boy.

Think on all you have done for him.

(SOBS) REID: Come, come... Thatcher!

Remove this hacker and her work.

There's no law says you may take that, Sergeant.

Oh, is there not?

Aw... (SHATTERS) Get you gone, woman!

Go!

The wound, how long for him to bleed out do we say?

Ten minutes...

Certainly no longer.

And so injured he could not have dragged himself at no more than, what?

(SIGHING) Ten yards a minute, maybe.

Miss Goren's orphanage, north of here...

He must therefore come from the other direction.

-Thatcher!

-Yeah?

I want a radius, hundred and fifty yards, all points south such a ruck, it would not have took place on a main thoroughfare, we look for dark corners therefore.

Get these men to it!

These are drawings made of this Whitechapel Golem in the weeks before the rabbi Rutowski was murdered?

No.

They are the drawings made in the past month.

And what do you make of that fact, Deborah?

If they draw him still, perhaps he lives still, and did not die when Isaac Bloom was hanged?

Might I borrow these?

Edmund there...

There is a matter I feel it is perhaps... Disloyal to say it but... -But your daughter, Mathilda... -What of her?

Her friendship with Miss Castello.

Rachel is a good person, this I know.

But she is young and angered.

She feels you police hide the truth of what is acted out on the people of her faith.

She is Jewish?

Raised as an Englishwoman, however, she discovers her heritage with a zeal.

A zeal for truth.

And that truth to be discovered however it may.

If you see my meaning?

I do not know if it is disloyal but I know that I am grateful to you for sharing of it.

(PEOPLE CHATTING INDISTINCTLY) (METAL CLANKING) (PEOPLE CHATTING INDISTINCTLY) JACKSON: Here, you be Gower.

It might be something.

REID: You are a newspaperwoman, it is your job to inveigle, to connive, to seduce.

But this is low.

She's a child!

She's my child!

She is not that, Mr. Reid.

I do not know her well, but what I do know of her, I admire.

-And she is no child, sir.

-And you seek to turn her to what?

-My betrayal?

-No, sir, never that.

I seek only that which you seek also, Mr. Reid, that which I find endlessly injuncted from me...

The truth.

Wait, what is that?

Is this the murdered man, Rutowski?

What is this?

What is this mapping?

-What is it you make here?

-A history.

Of the frozen, famished journeys made by those of my faith that they might find shelter in Whitechapel.

Rutowski's journey amongst?

Rutowski.

What of him?

Show me.

Show me!

No, sir.

I will not!

Bring a warrant if you must press it.

A warrant.

Or what details of the man and his end which you yourself keep hidden from view in the H Division archives.

I believe there is an expression for the exchange.

Quid pro quo.

JACKSON: See this...

It's piercing of his spleen, unstoppable internal bleeding.

That was the finishing.

But not the finishing he sought.

Your meaning?

Look at Gower's pockets.

There's money within.

Therefore it's not a theft.

It's personal.

JACKSON: His first point of attack, from behind.

Pinned against the wall.

He wished to knife him, he would have done it there and then.

It is an easy thing to say, I know.

But it is not you did this.

It is not you put that knife in him.

Nor you, yourself, Mr. Reid.

Oh, God, no.

-No, no, no, no.

-What?

JACKSON: Hey, Drummond, I need you to dig up a file for me... Last name Rutowski.

What is it you do?

-Tell me!

-What do you think?

This is a human bite mark.

(TELEPHONE RINGING) What?

What do you mean gone?!

Sergeant Drummond, beneath my desk, calf-skin briefcase, it is within.

Why is it you have kept it, Inspector?

The case remains of interest.

Despite my instructions otherwise?

What would you have me do, Bennet?

Avert my eyes?

Exactly that, Mr. Reid.

We had precise words on that matter, did we not?

And I was clear as to what such disobedience might then incur.

(KNOCK AT DOOR) Get out, Drummond.

Yes, Mr. Drake.

(SIGHS) They are not alike, Jackson.

Not close!

That's because those were taken from the lower abdomen.

It's fleshier there, there's more to take.

In both these examples, the mandibular lower incisors overlap by the maxillary central incisors.

Now the exact measurement on each of them is a notch and I mean a notch under two-fifty thou.

An overbite.

A slight overbite.

You throw a rock on to Commercial Street at lunch time you will strike a man with the same.

Furthermore, the method of attack on this here is...

It's entirely at odds.

This is...

This is a street brawl, a knifing... Drake!

Now whatever this means to you, it means the exact same to me.

I made this case too.

But how many examples of pre and post-mortem biting have we had in the eight years since I've served you here?

None.

Save this Rutowski.

And now your boy, Gower.

REID: They see him still.

Who they used to call The Whitechapel Golem.

These were drawn recently in the Orphanage on Woodseer Street.

-Bennet?

-No... No!

This man's killer has been hanged for his crime.

And these... Children's scrawlings, an overbite, they are not evidence fit for the overturning of that sentence.

Now, I warned you, Mr. Reid...

So you give me reason why I ought not to send you away.

This, here now, I do not pursue it in some attempt to make the world wrong or to disprove your work.

His work.

Our work.

I do it because I see the need for it.

Yes, my return to Whitechapel was indeed to make some defense of Isaac.

But that I stayed it is you, Bennet Drake.

You, my friend, who I missed.

And who now I wish nothing other than to help.

And how is it you now help me?

I want what you want.

I want to know who it was killed this boy.

I want to see the investigation I make bring you to him.

I want to give Thomas Gower his justice.

To use his awful death to make comparison.

Despite all that you say, there are similarities with Rutowski's murder that must be at least be discarded before any investigation can move forward.

So you show me the case you made against Bloom, Bennet.

Show me, every step of the way.

And then either you will prove me wrong, in which case you may indeed send me away.

Or... We, you and I, shall then together, bring this killer to Earth.

Well, he has me sold.

Then if we are to do this thing, let us do it tonight.

It is intemperate.

It is bold.

See you, Lady Macbeth.

Thieve in haste, repent at leisure.

Gather your Japanese porcelain while you may.

(CHUCKLES) If it must indeed come to pass that you leave us, I would see you steam away from me on still waters.

And this... Plans must be made.

Observations took.

They are made.

They are took.

By myself.

Because Abel, the snare closes.

Closes how?

I'll keep you safe here.

It is only that I feel it.

Feel it on me sharp.

No.

You are altogether too tough-minded for such suspicion.

You tell me, girl.

You tell me how that snare looks.

I have been seen.

Does she say, "Thank you Matthew, for saving my life... Well done"?

Nope.

"Take me to see my boy."

Now I told you that was a bad idea and did you listen?

Nope.

And whose problem is it now?

That's right.

Old Jackson.

And I'm the one that goes off half cocked?

I'm the one who doesn't think things through.

Idiot!

(THUNDER RUMBLING) This how she did it, then?

What did she promise you, Guard Theakston?

Money?

For her delivery to that pit?

A kind word?

Her snake tongue in your ear?

Who is it you speak of?

I don't even know who you are!

Oh, do you not?

What about the boy then, remember him?

That's Miss Susan's boy.

And you would let him believe she is dead, when she is not.

How did she climb down from that scaffold, eh?

How did she do that?

My husband, this boy's new father, he is the police headman of Whitechapel.

And he will see you swing just as surely as he will her when he catches her.

I see you.

Your fear.

You tell me!

You're mad, woman.

You're all at sea.

(GROANS) ROSE: Come on, Connor.

(PEOPLE CHATTING INDISTINCTLY) DRAKE: This is where we found Rutowski.

Here.

Boy found him.

Raised a Uniform.

You were able to keep the scene intact?

It was chaos by the time I got here.

Packed tight.

Screaming.

Folk could see what had been done to him.

Head caved in.

Shirt ripped from him, those bites taken out of his body.

Word would have got about, I imagine?

Chimed, most likely with the, uh, the talk that had grown up of this Whitechapel Golem.

Although there is no Golem myth in which it is said to have torn men's flesh from their bodies.

Whatever the myth of it, Mr. Reid, we saw to it that any confirmation of that fact be withheld from the press.

And why that?

I was worried at what those with a fear of our Jewish neighbors might accuse them of, I felt it a wise policy.

And one that you continued once Isaac Bloom... Once he, a Jewish man, was sentenced for it, yes.

And so then you removed the body.

We did.

Identification?

The man's university accreditation was found about him.

You wired his place of work?

He'd taken a week's leave.

Not told a soul for why.

And then door to door?

The synagogue on Princelet Street.

Max Steiner.

Rutowski paid his respects, made a few prayers, offered nothing of his purpose and left.

Then we go to Bloom's lodgings next.

An old lock seller, a lady, said she saw Rutowski arrive at Bloom's around six of the evening.

Saw him leave an hour later.

His body found?

The next morning.

But killed, according to Jackson, 11 of the night.

REID: So you interviewed Bloom, you found him disturbed, I imagine?

More bewildered, at the first.

He could not recall Rutowski's visit.

Nor even that the man existed.

You did not search his room then?

I had no call to.

It was not as though I did not remember the man fondly, Mr. Reid.

I felt sad for him.

Not suspicious.

So it was not until you had Rabbi Steiner's account of him being attacked by Bloom that you returned?

Another violent attack on a religious man.

A compelling indicator that warranted further pursuit?

A search warrant was requested?

We returned to Bloom's lodgings here.

Conducted our search found that plug of flesh, that shirt.

(MAN SHOUTING RUSSIAN) REID: Calm yourself sir, I beg you.

Calm yourself.

Police.

We mean you no harm.

Our apologies.

We will leave you.

Riggs.

Here, take a shift.

Tilda, what is it?

Is my Uncle Bennet here?

My father?

Neither, Tilda.

What is it that worries you, will you say?

I think I must not, Drum.

Might I wait, however?

DRAKE: Do I wait then, for you to show me what it is I have neglected to see?

It is copper-fastened, Bennet.

I would have come to the same conclusions.

I do not contest that.

Perhaps I worry it is, er, too much of an irreproachable case.

(HUFFS) We here cannot win but for one fault or another.

But do you not agree?

In his bewilderment, you have found the perfect suspect.

In that search the unimprovable evidence.

Does such ease, given what we've seen today, not raise the slightest shiver of suspicion for you?

And is that not you all over, Mr. Reid?

Your fevered eyes once more burning through the deceit of the world in the hope that you might at last uncover its black mechanics.

MAN: Another body!

(WHISTLE BLOWING) (CLAMORING) MAN: You see the wounds on his side, the bite marks?

All the signs of The Golem.

CASTELLO: Did you see what has been done to him, sir?

To his flesh!

Sir!

Inspector Drake!

Sir!

Inspector Drake!

Will you not tell me what our eyes now see here?

What has been done to this man!

Or will you hide the facts of this case too?

-THATCHER: Come on, come on!

-No.

(STRAINS) (CLAMORING CONTINUES) I wonder if you understand...

If you could imagine, even, what it is so many in our community have suffered to find... -If you will please come with me... -I will not, Inspector Drake!

They do not walk, starving, through the frozen steppes of Europe to arrive here to be so savaged.

Just when they imagine they... Have some salvation here at hand.

You are charged with the people's protection, sir, and you have failed in that mandate!

And you, Mr. Reid, how will you remedy this?

I will ask you of this man.

Can you tell me his name?

His name is Nadelman.

More than that, I can't tell you.

He recently came here from Lithuania.

As you can see, emaciated from his deprivations.

But we cared for him.

We gave him a room beneath the synagogue.

And that is where you found him, sir?

STEINER: It was.

Mr. Thatcher.

You will escort Rabbi Steiner back to Princelet Street.

Take men.

And you will work the room as you have been taught.

Rabbi Steiner, we will see these streets now scoured for the cause of this, you have my word.

We will not rest till it is done.

REID: Bennet.

Bennet... What?

What!

To try to tell me the old man is wrong?

That this is not at my door.

This Nadelman, Thomas Gower... Isaac Bloom.

Innocent and hanged.

You are not their killer.

You are not.

This is a battle worth the blood.

Remember?

This is not a battle.

This is defeat.

And so the abyss will swallow Bennet Drake, will it?

It swallowed you once if you remember.

JACKSON: Our Gower was a soldier with the strength to resist... this fetish for the body.

But this man... Well, you can see how weak he is.

Advanced malnutrition, severe muscle wastage, necrosis of the fat cells.

You can approximate a time of death?

Are you asking if it was about the same time as Gower's?

Yeah, I'd say it was proximate, Reid.

But here, this killer here, he comes face to face with Thomas' strength and resistance.

Takes a knife to end that resistance, then he flees from the rumpus he has no doubt made.

He makes his way towards the refugee lodgings in Princelet Street.

Finds a man too broken to fight.

Lets his desires grow fierce.

Now come see.

Hey, look here.

These are parallel tracks where the upper incisors scrape down the skin and these are static puncture marks where he then gouges down on to the lower teeth and then the flesh is torn and sheared.

So it's almost as if he's shaking them with his teeth.

So this biting, it presents itself less as a cannibalism and more of a... A means of attack.

It's like an animal.

Like a dog attacks.

Like a dog.

It's like...

This is the animal hair that I took from where Gower was found.

From the scale pattern of the cuticle and the medulla type, it's from an animal that is very much like a dog.

It's a timber wolf.

Now, this town is crazy I grant you but the last time I checked...

There are no wolves in Whitechapel.

(TELEPHONE RINGING) REID: Yes.

Assistant Commissioner Dove is here.

DRAKE: The error of it sir.

The sheer bloody muck of the mistake.

Not for the minding of, Inspector.

Not now.

Not yet.

I know you.

The man you are.

The policeman you are.

The compassion and rigor you brought to that case as to every other part of your work here, it could never be questioned.

And must be brought once more, Mr. Drake.

This killer must be trapped.

I know you understand this, sir.

You shall have all the resources, you require.

Thank you, sir.

I expect updates.

-On the hour.

-You shall have them, Mr. Dove.

You find this savage beast, Inspector.

I will, sir.

Good evening, Mrs. Drake.

Hello to you, young man.

I'm sure Mr. Dove is pleased to see you, as I am.

But it is late for the lad to be up and about.

Rose, he is freezing.

Never mind Connor.

Better you mind me.

Not now woman.

Not here.

-DOVE: Mr. Drake, I should... -No, Augustus.

-You will hear this.

-DRAKE: Rose... ROSE: I have no secrets.

And best you know how it is a murderess escaped her sentence.

I know how she did it, I know.

I have discovered it.

Rose, I've told you.

This is a madness...

It is not, Bennet!

See, I went to Newgate.

To the pit there.

And there is a guard.

Name of Theakston.

Oh, how he used to make eyes at Long Susan.

Miss S this, Miss S that he'd have cleaned her arse with his tongue had she asked for it!

-Rose!

Enough!

-But I stopped him.

And I asked him.

I said, "How'd she done it?

Tell us."

And you should have seen him... White as the beard of God.

And I knew it.

I knew it then.

She must have been put in that Newgate pit still alive.

And some accomplice to come and collect her.

-You cannot think... -You think her not able?

Just remember all that she has done.

Fifty-five.

Man, woman, child and not a soul in this square mile whose lives not changed by her!

By Long Susan Hart and she is about her evil once more.

-You will stop this now... -You just try and make me, Bennet Drake!

Say you love me, do you?

Well, you cannot because you do not trust me.

I, who have trusted you and had faith in you when I know the black things you have done.

-You will be silent.

-I will not!

ROSE: Reid... Susan, the Captain.

All of you.

The things you have done and I have kept that secret like a poison in my heart.

-Rose!

-JACKSON: Enough!

You two stop this right now!

Have a care.

Let me take him home now.

We must take him home now, Rose.

Come on.

Let us go home.

You should know, Mr. Reid, that...

Your Mathilda.

I, I mean to say, if it please you, that you ought not to be afraid of any impropriety, or, or ugly motive on my part.

I seek only to...

If such were permitted, both by yourself and herself, of course.

I, I seek only to be allowed to come to know her a little better... Drummond.

Yes, Mr. Reid?

Six months back.

When Captain Jackson removed the bloody imprint of Isaac Bloom's fingerprints from the shirt placket of the murdered Rabbi, Rutowski, and Inspector Drake wished them then to be used as evidence.

You recall all this?

I do.

And the warrant that was then secured for the search of Mr. Bloom's rooms?

Yes, sir.

And when it was felt that the full and awful details of the crime should not be broadcast abroad for fear of panic and so the newspapers were injuncted.

-All this you recall?

-Who could forget, Mr. Reid?

Then tell me.

Whose authority was it, saw these commands made?

Why, Mr. Dove, sir.

Good evening, Augustus.

You've heard the rumpus out there?

I have not.

Forgive me.

It has been a day.

Well, it must have been.

For the whole world cries of it.

Of what?

Not the once, but twice over.

He has...

Performed his act once more.

Ah.

The last occasion, he confessed to both of us what he'd done to that rabbi.

Oh, I remember, Abel.

What a run around that was.

You were meant to care for him.

And I do.

I do!

This cannot happen again.

He must be watched.

I know, I know.

And further to that, Abel, the woman you shelter.

I now know who she is.

Why would you not tell me?

She is almost a celebrity in these parts and you have kept her these two months?

-I have grown fond of her.

-(CHUCKLES) Wish her well.

Your murderous, conniving mind, but your kind heart...

It will be the finishing of you.

Hmm.

I do not think it is the end of myself which currently exercises you, Assistant Commissioner.

You and that bauble so recently pinned to your breast.

Besides, they owe me money.

She and her American husband?

Oh, yeah.

How did he do it?

How did he fake her death, Abel?

Free her?

Oh, damned if I know.

But he is a sharp one.

Plus, there are plans afoot which will see the pair of them gone.

-Plans?

-Hmm.

There is currently some merit in H Division's finest surgeon being gone from it.

You set about your plan, Abel.

I shall set about seeing how else the trail that leads to us may be broke and scattered.

How that Augustus?

How broke?

How scattered?

Never mind that for now.

You get home.

And you keep that beast close to you, you understand?

(DOOR OPENING) SUSAN: Matthew.

I was afraid.

Me and you both, darlin'.

I tell you, this town...

The things that I've seen within it today.

Me and you have gotta get this thing finished and ourselves done with this place for all time.

(PANTING) Where is the sea-dog?

He is called away.

And the retarded first mate?

Sleeping beyond.

(BANGING) I know there's wisdom in sleeping early for night-work but it's time to rise and get about it now, son.

CROKER: Well, my children.

(DOOR OPENING, CLOSING) The night is a dark one.

The clouds roll over.

Such auguries must not be ignored.

Let us eat before we thieve.

Move across.

I sit there.

Go, Nate.

Move along.

Who are we to separate husband and wife?

And while you're up, get them kerosene lamps and wipe them down.

There is food aplenty, Captain.

No call for you to be filching others'.

Sleep.

Forget about this world awhile.

Were there naught to be done, I would stay, Rose.

But, er... Tonight there is an evil out there which I...

I cannot hide at home, my love.

And for all of it may not be worth a heap of... no more, I must go to work.

Bennet.

Yes, my love?

Do what you like.

(PEOPLE SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY) (TRAIN CHUGGING) REID: As we have agreed, your building of the case, the evidence which convicted Mr. Bloom...

It was flawless.

But we know that Isaac Bloom cannot have killed Rutowski -because... -The killer still walks amongst us.

Yes.

Then we must needs look elsewhere for the flaw, Bennet.

And so I only ask you to think on who else might have had both the knowledge and the opportunity.

What?

My division has known care and advancement beneath his eye.

He has been the voice and encouragement we who must police this quarter have always called for.

He has understood my life here, Mr. Reid, he has been my friend.

And it is he who gets you your warrant.

He who therefore knows the address at which to leave the evidence.

Evidence that he knew Captain Jackson would clasp tight to his heart.

And it is he who then says, "Yes, use your fingerprints."

And "Yes, I will bar all newspaper reportings of the details."

Only he, Bennet.

Only Augustus Dove.

You ask me to admit his corruption, I must therefore admit my own.

I see that, I see that Bennet, I do.

But what purchase that support and advancement has given him here.

-My purchase you mean?

-No.

-My seduction?

-No, I do not mean to suggest... No, Mr. Reid!

Now I may now need you here for this fight which comes down.

But you leave off Augustus Dove, you hear?

(DOOR OPENS) MAN: Rose... Rose it is only me.

You do not come to curse me for my madness?

Why would I?

I know you're sane.

Do you believe me?

I do, Rose.

Oh, but that is a wonderful thing.

Thank you, Augustus.

Thank you.

Will you keep watch over us?

If Mr. Drake is not here to do so, then I shall.

The thought of you doing so, currently makes me happier, however...

There was another fear you spoke of earlier, on the subject of Miss Hart.

But also Mr. Reid.

An act in which you believed them to have collaborated.

A bad thing.

A bad thing.

Not only those two.

The Captain also... And Bennet.

What was it, Rose?

I made a promise.

I swore it.

Never, ever to tell.

Then you must not, Rose.

Never break a promise.

(CLICKS) (CLICKS) (CLICKS) You sent for me?

Quid pro quo.

(TRAIN CHUGGING) (METAL CLANKING) Only the lock, correct?

-Correct?

-Yes!

Correct.

SUSAN: Matthew, wait!

(COUGHING) Too much spice in your stew, Captain.

(WHISTLE BLOWING) Nate!

No, no, Abel.

I will not have more blood on my tally.

Not yours, my girl.

Mine.

Mine can manage the extra.

You step aside.

Get your crockery.

(GUARD SHOUTS INDISTINCTLY) (GUARD SCREAMING) (PANTING) -For this?

-Here.

Anything else you wish to pilfer?

Or do we sail?

(DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) (MUSIC FADES OUT)