Ripper Street
Your Father, My Friend
Season 3 Episode 4 | 51m 36sVideo has Closed Captions
Ghosts of Whitechapel's past come alive, setting our heroes on a path of destruction.
As a lost girl wanders the dangerous streets of the East End alone, Detective Inspector Drake must try to find his old friend Edmund Reid and bring those responsible to justice. While there are still questions to answer about the death of Horace Buckley, the team of H Division unites to locate the girl. When tangible proof to finally bring Capshaw to justice arrives, attempts to arrest him will de
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Ripper Street
Your Father, My Friend
Season 3 Episode 4 | 51m 36sVideo has Closed Captions
As a lost girl wanders the dangerous streets of the East End alone, Detective Inspector Drake must try to find his old friend Edmund Reid and bring those responsible to justice. While there are still questions to answer about the death of Horace Buckley, the team of H Division unites to locate the girl. When tangible proof to finally bring Capshaw to justice arrives, attempts to arrest him will de
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Mr. Reid, sir.
What brings you here, Inspector Drake?
Only a memory.
Of a weekend you once spoke of, here.
You told me of your steamer along the Thames, bound for Margate.
Your Mathilda.
Her first oyster, taken from a cultch here.
Bennet.
Bennet, I care not if you have cuffs in your jacket, if you have men waiting beyond, you have a judge for my arraignment.
You will not say her name again.
No judges, Mr. Reid.
No witnesses were there.
And who is there to complain on behalf of that man?
Then what?
What?
Why?
Why?
Why do you not leave me here?
Because I must say it, Mr. Reid.
Her name, that is.
Your Mathilda.
It is why I come.
She has been seen.
Your girl lives, Mr. Reid.
-Someone saw her?
-Let us get you home, sir.
(SOBBING) (SCREAMING) (THEME MUSIC PLAYING) Fifty-five, 65... 75,000.
The first of five such exchanges.
It is your guile which now allows us the peace to see our bonds transacted into cash.
-But your strategy, Mr. Capshaw.
-You disown the credit.
-I am happy to assume it.
-Credit.
You imagine me performing private pirouettes of glee at all this, do you?
She was my ward, my charge.
And she is now disappeared, I know not where, in those streets.
And you expect me to find a feather for your cap.
Tell me something.
If it is in my gift to do so, I shall tell it.
I kept you on after the... loss of Duggan because, well, you were as one with his affairs, of course.
But in truth, I had an instinct about what you were, as a man.
Or rather, what you lacked.
Do not mistake me.
It is a quality I would have all men lack.
It seemed to me you were happy as you were.
You had no need to make the world stand up and applaud your very existence.
Was I wrong to judge you so?
No.
But we all evolve, Miss Susan, do we not?
Adapt to the world we find ourselves in.
Much like this borough you would shape to a higher ideal, I, too, perhaps... feel myself advance, and from there... (KNOCKING) ...see further.
(RUMBLING) Your mistress, girl.
She is to bring herself out, or I shall pull her forth by her ears!
Perhaps I am not, after all, as skilled as you would believe.
What are we to do?
Mathilda!
Lock this cash with the remaining bonds.
Then leave.
REID: Mathilda!
Mathilda Reid!
Mathilda!
In there.
Mathilda!
Mathilda!
Mathilda!
Mathilda!
REID: Mathilda!
You are sure, Bennet?
I am sure she said it.
And she would not say it if she were not sure of it herself.
I see your search is exhausted, then?
My understanding, Inspector Drake, is that this man has a case to answer at Leman Street for the murder of a suspect, and therefore has no business stampeding through my house.
You know why it is I am here, woman.
Now, where is she?
-Who, Mr. Reid?
-Damn you.
My daughter!
My daughter that you had me believe was dead.
-(BREATHING HEAVILY) -Your daughter is dead, sir.
(CHOKING) You may kill me, but it remains the case.
She was seen.
(CHOKING) By who?
Whose eyes deceived them so?
The girl was seen, Miss Susan.
Your lies.
Your eternal lies.
I felt her captor's skull come apart in my hands.
(GASPING) -As you intended.
-Reid... You let her go.
She dies, you die.
(SUSAN GASPING) Could be she is gone, sir.
Now that her purpose is served.
Whichever way, she needs you hunting her.
You are watched, bitch.
(PANTING) -They have moved her.
-Or she has run, Mr. Reid.
-And is out here somewhere alone.
-JACKSON: Drake!
You find him and bring him here.
Why, Reid?
Why would you torment yourself?
She was seen, Jackson.
Rose saw her.
A girl, hidden, in there, with red hair.
It is natural, I know, for a man to want to protect his wife.
But you cannot protect her from me.
That place.
Her place.
Obsidian.
All that lies hidden... Reid, enough.
Now, it's understandable, of course it is, but your mind is scrambled.
It's not your own.
You wish to know what my addled wits see?
That you and she are not as estranged as the world might believe.
That you are still her creature, Captain.
Drake, come on.
Stop him.
I have given it thought.
I've asked myself how it is that the thieves who went to the rope for the murder of the 55 did so without that I could lay my hands on their paymaster.
He who might then only have been described by but one other man.
A man named Cree, Captain.
You met him in my cells.
And yet then, he is found with his throat cut, unable to describe that face to me further.
A face I believe now may be found in your mutton wife's halls.
Yes, Captain.
Mr. Capshaw and she, knowing full well the part he has played, once more calls for you, her still-favored dupe, to stroke and tug our secrets free.
Reid!
Reid!
Edmund Reid!
That's quick work, Chief Inspector.
Your face is known in these parts, Edmund.
You raise hell, word will travel.
There is hell to be raised, Fred, and I am to raise it.
My girl is here.
My Mathilda, taken from me, and then lost again, here in these streets.
Please.
You are not yourself.
Come in.
No cuffs.
We shall talk, you and I.
Find the truth of it together.
But you come in.
You can have me, Mr. Abberline.
My word on it.
Only, you must let me be for now.
You must let me search.
I will come to you later.
No, Mr. Reid.
You shall come now.
"Sure to come to an ugly end", she said.
"An ugly end."
The Frying Pan.
Oi.
Herbert.
With me.
He lived from the river, whatever he could find and sell from that... shop of his.
He must have discovered her on that shore, unconscious.
Lost, removed her to his wife, his barren wife.
And the woman, Hart, found her, lied to me!
Gave me to believe...
Gave me to believe the trauma of her discovery... -Mathilda did not survive it.
-Thus...
The man Buckley taken by you to... Taken back to that place, the place where she was... kept, and there ended.
Your daughter, used against you, yet alive, broken free from whatever gilded fetters Susan Hart had her bound by.
She now walks free in those streets out there.
This is your belief?
Yes.
All men, all uniforms, whatever they are set on, they will be set on it no longer.
-Here, sir.
-Thank you.
Cheers.
-Ah, now, Harry.
-Victor.
One baker, if you please.
Dollop of butter also.
Much obliged.
"'Sure to come to an ugly end," said Mrs.
Scorer.
-"An ugly end."
-Hello, beauty.
Look at you, that pretty dress all mucked.
A sooty angel, that's what you are.
You hungry, beauty?
Here.
A tater if you wants it.
Hot and buttered.
What's your name, then?
I am not Alice.
Not Alice?
Then what are you?
Well, "Not Alice," I am Harry and I am charmed to make your acquaintance.
(GIGGLES) You eat your tater, beauty.
Wait there one tick for old Harry.
Here's a right one, Herb.
Pretty as a picture, mad as a flag.
Hop it to Cooley's.
Have word spread.
Tell them Harry Ward has a new popsie.
Look at that, Not Alice.
Hungry girl, weren't you?
See what a jolly bonnet I've got now.
Jolly indeed.
Where to now, Not Alice?
Osborn.
Osborn Street?
Do you know the way?
Well, Harry has naught better to do currently.
Morning to you, Dr. Frayn.
Good morning, Captain Jackson.
-This is Mendeleev's classification, correct?
-It is.
You're a chemist, alongside your doctoring?
All doctoring is chemistry of one form or another.
Yeah, all life is chemistry in one form or another.
Captain, did you come here solely to pronounce on the self-evident, or is there other purpose to your visit?
It was Aristotle that said it first, right?
That the elements from which everything consists must necessarily be limited?
Limited to four, he said.
Earth, water, air, fire.
Which are you, Dr. Frayn?
There are other elements discovered beyond ancient Greece, Captain.
But all those discoveries were made with the same motive.
Hennig Brand pisses in a retort, boils it back to a solid slurry, calls it phosphorus.
Why?
Because he wanted to know what was fundamental in a thing.
Your benefactor, Miss Hart, for example.
You distill her, what do you find?
Much of my life would be impossible were it not for her commitment and support.
In her heart, fundamentally, Dr. Frayn, you say she is good?
I do.
But these elements, they're not stable, are they?
You apply heat, you apply pressure, they shift.
And, on occasion, become toxic.
If I require a lecture on the production of gases, Captain, there are many more qualified to give it... You see, what I am trying to understand is the chemistry of how two such fundamentally good women can stand there and you tell a man that his daughter is dead when she is not.
Now, you see, here's the thing.
I wasn't certain of it, could not believe it of her, not until this moment.
MAN: Miss, take a look.
Something caught your eye, has it?
Thank you, sir.
No!
All right, Not Alice.
Steady.
Happy now?
No?
Well, then, it is time we found a means for you to repay my generosity.
Little Paternoster and Hanbury.
Hanbury Street?
What are the chances?
That's just where we're headed, beauty.
You follow me.
What is it you search for, Not Alice?
My daddy.
Your pops, is it?
Well, you come with me and I shall show you him.
DRAKE: Mr. Reid!
This man.
Collected on Thrawl Street, just now.
Tell the inspectors what you told our men.
It was the dress, sir.
White.
DRAKE: And red of hair, correct?
Close on 15 years of age?
And you offered her your assistance?
MAN: I did not, sir.
She was already assisted.
His name is Ward, sir.
Harry Ward.
And how is it he is known to you?
I station myself besides The Frying Pan, sir.
A drinker on Thrawl and Brick Lane.
-Indeed.
He is well known.
-You tell me.
How so is he known?
He procures.
And he sells.
We must find him, this Ward.
Those that pimp the young.
Ward, Harry.
Where does he take them?
Cooley's.
It's that rookery, Mr. Reid.
There's no uniform stepped inside for 10 years.
We are not in uniform, Bennet.
No, Mr. Reid.
-Hello, Harry.
-Special seven, if you please.
Here we are, Not Alice.
Up the stairs now.
You, Ward.
Been here nigh on an hour.
No complaints now, are there?
You know the dance.
Two ways this thing now goes.
You scream, you get a clout.
My daddy?
I'm your daddy now, beauty.
And I believe I shall take mine first.
Harry Ward!
Which room?
Seven!
(SHOUTING) Where is she?
Where is she!
The rooftop!
You stay there!
REID: Go to her, Drake!
Get her!
Go!
Do not lose her!
Mathilda!
You.
You are Harry Ward.
You are with me.
(HARRY MOANING) Mathilda.
Mathilda Reid!
Stop, child.
Please.
Please, stay where you are.
Who are you?
Uncle Ben, who bought you strawberry ices on Petticoat Lane each Sunday.
And your gloves would get all sticky with them.
And my daddy?
He is my friend.
Inspector Edmund Reid.
Inspector Reid.
Mathilda.
No, please, wait!
Mathilda!
She flees, sir!
She got away from me, Mr. Reid.
But, uh, was it her, Bennet?
I am sure of it, sir.
Mr. Ward!
That face of yours needs a wash.
Fear not, Inspector.
I will not kill him, yet.
You will tell me everything!
(SHOUTING) Do you understand?
Everything she said.
Everything she did.
Where she came from.
-Where she was going.
-Yes, sir.
Then begin.
You found her outside The Frying Pan.
-Yes, sir.
-And then?
And then took her where she wanted to go, didn't I?
Where, boy?
-Osborn.
-And thence?
Spitalfields Market, Brushfield Street, Little Paternoster Row, Hanbury.
What was it she used to cut you?
There was a shard of mirror up there on the bed.
-Yes.
That.
-Where was it found?
Had it with her, sir.
Kept it in her purse.
About her neck, sir, a white scarf with red borders.
Tied.
-Knotted in front?
-Indeed.
-Bought that for her, I did.
-What else, what else?
Her words.
Her words!
What did she speak of?
-Nothing of no sense, Mr. Reid.
-Nonetheless, her words!
She spoke of a bonnet.
But there was no bonnet on her to speak of.
Precise words!
Perhaps, "See this..." -No.
"See what jolly..." -"...jolly bonnet I've got now."
Yes.
But if you know already, then why do you ask?
How is that possible?
Does she follow them, Mr. Reid?
Polly and Annie.
The Ripper's first victims.
Their last wanderings.
Polly Nichols and Annie Chapman.
The final hours before they fell beneath his knife.
The streets they walked, what they wore, what they carried.
Where the Ripper did his work, my daughter now follows.
REID: We have done what we can to forget these names, but his killings must be remembered now.
So... Ward picks her up outside The Frying Pan public house.
Friday the 31st of August, 12.30 a.m., Polly Nichols is seen leaving The Frying Pan at the corner of Brick Lane and Thrawl Street.
She returns to the lodging house at 18 Thrawl Street, where the deputy tells her to leave the kitchen of the lodging house because she has not produced her doss money.
"Never mind", she said.
"I shall soon have it.
"See what a jolly bonnet I've got now."
Osborn next, so Ward says.
2:30 a.m., uh, Emily Holland meets Polly outside the grocer's on Whitechapel Road and Osborn Street.
Polly tells her she has earned her doss money three times over and drunk it all away.
3:40 or 3:45 a.m., Polly Nichols' body is discovered at Buck's Row by Charles Cross, a car man, on his way to work.
Ward does not take Mathilda there, however.
Spitalfields, Brushfield Street, Little Paternoster Row, Hanbury.
She follows Polly, and then she follows Annie.
Saturday, September 8th, 1:35 a.m., Annie Chapman is seen leaving Crossingham's Lodging House and entering into Little Paternoster Row in the direction of Brushfield Street.
5:30 a.m., Elizabeth Long sees Annie with a man, hard against the shutters of 29 Hanbury Street.
Long hears the man ask "Will you?"
And hears Annie reply, "Yes."
Edmund, how does your Mathilda know these things?
The fine details of the Ripper case, the shard of glass that Polly Nichols had in her purse, the red and white neckerchief that Annie Chapman had tied around her neck?
Not even those hounds at The Star have such knowledge.
Pardon me.
The American surgeon calls, sir.
Wishes to speak with Mr. Reid.
He has a woman with him.
Pronounces it of current urgency.
DR. FRAYN: It was a world of fantasy, sir.
Of fairy tales made real, where she was protected by her parents from the violent and terrible forces...
Forces?
You mean the boat, her near drowning, the, uh...
The flames, the water, the dead.
That certain trauma was helpful to them in the immediate sense, yes.
But there were horrors which preceded that moment that were born when you still had her, Mr. Reid.
What?
I spoke with Mathilda at great length.
I returned her to where her trauma began.
What did you find?
There are stories she tells of women, dead women.
Their bodies brutally put apart.
It is this which persuaded me that the wicked king she had made of her father might indeed be as wicked as she imagined.
They did not have names, only stories.
And pictures.
She drew them.
Sergeant Artherton!
-Mr. Reid?
-Captain Jackson and Dr. Frayn are leaving now.
-Whoa, Reid, wait... -I've heard enough.
When people are lost to us, it is perhaps true that we remember them as we wish them to have been, not as they were.
The daughter of mine who went into the water that day, for many weeks she had not smiled nor taken my hand without that I had taken hers first.
Those weeks, the first weeks, the knowledge that the killer had begun and would go on...
This here, this station house, I barely left.
And when I did leave, the station house came home with me.
Unbeknown to me, she must have found it.
The map I made of his works and his victims.
-Found it and studied it.
-And returns to it now.
These atrocities are all that she now remembers of our life together.
Edmund.
She cannot follow them all, however.
Indeed, indeed.
The Pride of Wapping, my daughter and I aboard, sank 15th September.
Mathilda thereafter in the care of the Buckleys.
Miss Stride, Catherine Eddowes, Mary Jane Kelly did not exist for her.
Don, men stationed at all these addresses.
(DOOR OPENS) Captain Jackson.
Feet on my desk, drinking my whisky.
This is not the station house on Leman Street, nor am I Edmund Reid.
His is hooch, yours is decent.
None of which surprises me.
What is it you want, Captain?
When last we parleyed, you were far from receptive.
That feller I saw you with, the day of the train, died with his head in your lap.
-What of him?
-You loved him.
And it's for his sake that you mount the investigation you informed me of, last we met.
Susan Hart, her father, these bearer bonds you speak of.
You understand why it is a difficult thing for me to hear you say that.
I do.
You love her.
Would something that approached proof be of interest?
Since I brought that telegram to you, I have dug deeper into its details.
Theodore Patrick Swift moves his money on a regular basis, through Whitechapel.
De facto fiefdom, you might say, of his estranged daughter, your beloved Miss Susan, and that money is stolen.
And I told you that conjecture ain't worth a pot of piss to me.
Nor to me.
Her man, Capshaw, he's a curious one.
Would you not agree?
Such still waters.
I've never met the man myself.
Well, perhaps it is time you made the effort.
The city of London, it squirms with agents of all kind.
An unregulated pasture of opportunity should you have a burgled bag of anonymous securities to see exchanged into ready cash.
I followed Mr. Capshaw this morning as he visited just one such an agent.
JACKSON: Capshaw.
Ah, ah, ah, Captain.
Mine.
The word is out, Mr. Reid.
She cannot set foot on one of those streets without our men there to greet her and see her back to you.
You do not insist on joining them?
If in her mind, I am somehow become monstrous?
No.
I cannot risk that she will run from me.
Whatever now happens, I am...
I am finished with this life.
And so now I ask only one more request of you both.
Mathilda knew you.
So, please, be out there yourselves.
Search for her yourselves.
Be there to reassure her, should she be found.
Thank you.
(WHISPERING) What is it you thought to find here, Mathilda?
-Mr. Artherton.
-Inspector.
I am leaving here, Sergeant.
Will you stop me?
Well, that depends, sir, on where it is you go.
To fetch my girl.
There are men already about that purpose.
As you know.
Do you trust me?
I always have.
Then you turn about, drink your coffee.
(MUSIC BOX PLAYING) Hello.
Hello.
There was a bird caught in here once.
-There was.
-You trapped it.
I did.
And then you set it free.
(SNIFFLES) I remember.
And can you say your name?
I am Mathilda.
You are Mathilda.
Do you know how I have found you?
You remember the map, don't you?
-The women?
-Yes.
The dead women.
You were following them.
And then you stopped.
The map, you put pins in the map.
Where I thought they would be safe.
Here.
You put pins in here.
-They would be safe here.
-And why would they be safe?
Why... Why would they be safe here, Mathilda?
Because my daddy would protect them.
(INHALES SHARPLY) And who am I, Mathilda?
You are my daddy.
(MATHILDA SOBBING) (PATRONS CHATTERING) Sit down.
The last time you brought me here, there was a diamond in your coat pocket.
Well, things were, um, different then.
I'd hoped to bring you back to me.
Whereas now... Perhaps I'm glad I failed.
I did not agree to this because your carping was a sound for which I yearned.
You're going to sit.
And you're going to listen.
You've been using me.
Indeed?
And what possible use could I have for you?
The day that locomotive came down, first occasion I have to step foot in that station house in almost three years, and I find you on my doorstep with your cooing entreaties.
And I speak to you in good faith, and I tell you what you need to hear.
And lo... Reid misses his man.
Excuse me?
Five men went to the scaffold, did they not?
But not the man.
Not your man, Miss Hart.
If you are going to make accusation, I suggest you do so clearly.
Bearer bonds.
Dollars, darling.
Our native currency.
And stolen from your father.
But what I have yet to conclude, was it your Mr. Capshaw that fixed the job, or was it you, Susan?
Is that why you told Reid his girl was dead when she was not?
The girl, Reid's girl, the lies.
What you put inside that man's head, a man that you have known in fellowship, and you lace him with such torment.
I want to know if I can see it.
See the evil that has come to roost in you, Caitlin Swift.
The woman that I once made mine.
And can you?
Can you see it?
I see what I have always seen.
And what is that?
I see the face of the woman that I love.
Does it feel like flesh, Matthew?
Because to me it does no longer.
-Will we be together?
-We will, my darling.
-Where?
Here?
-No.
No, not here.
Not... Not Whitechapel.
Not London.
Then where, Daddy?
Do you remember the seaside?
We stayed in a house by the sea once.
Well it...
It's very pretty, and there are birds and a sandy beach.
And it's very quiet, Mathilda.
And the sun shines.
And you may... You may lie beneath it with your shoes and socks off and your feet in the water.
-It is not like the river?
-No, no.
No, the river here is a dead thing.
And the sea is life.
We shall go there.
-When?
-Now.
This morning.
JACKSON: Reid.
Open up.
I have something for you.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR) Reid, it's me, open up, I know you're in there.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR) (DOOR OPENING) Good morning, Inspector.
Fear not.
I have got one thing to give you, and then I'm gone and no man ever the wiser.
This is everything you need.
It's Ronald Capshaw named in the transaction of US bearer bonds to pounds sterling.
Fifty-five men, women and children.
This is a warrant, Reid.
For what it's worth, I don't believe Susan a part of it.
Mathilda, this is Captain Jackson, an associate of mine.
-Good morning, sir.
-Good morning.
(WHISPERING INAUDIBLY) You are both leaving.
No, you know what?
Forget it.
-You go.
-No.
Show it to me.
It is, as you say, all that is needed for the 55 dead to have their justice.
It is, but you might imagine the world capable of righting itself without you.
To believe otherwise is just another stripe of selfishness.
And yet you bring this to me.
Because I know you, Reid.
What I say is, change, the permanent kind, the change you seek, you will never see it.
It is like the rising of mountains.
All of this.
You, me...
It's nothing.
It is nothing.
But it is everything.
As you see fit.
Goodbye, Reid.
Goodbye, Captain.
(DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES) Mr. Reid?
Councilor.
Miss Cobden.
Good morning.
My daughter, Mathilda.
-Your... -She has come back to me.
You are the only soul I might trust to sit with her, for an hour only.
After which, I shall return.
There is a wickedness that is within my power to see corrected.
Mr. Reid, I am to show you in.
Capshaw, girl.
Take me to him.
This way, sir.
CAPSHAW: Mr. Reid.
Do you come with more fantasies of children rising from their graves?
No, man.
I come for you.
You are to accompany me to Leman Street, now.
Indeed?
Am I arrested?
Or merely aiding the police with their inquiries?
I cannot say.
But I am delivering you to them.
Along with this.
Your name, £75,000 in exchange for the equivalent amount in US bearer bonds, a portion of that stolen from a London and India goods train.
Your name, Mr. Capshaw, writ above the murder of masses.
Whitechapel is to be rid of you, sir.
Rid also of this place.
This Obsidian.
You are with me, Capshaw.
Rid of Obsidian, Mr. Reid?
It's not as easy as all that, I'm afraid.
We are the stone and we are the brick.
Needs must you demolish the whole of Whitechapel, sir.
CAPSHAW: And so Edmund Reid is ended.
Oh, you are a rare one, Madam.
I had begun to think you lacking the wherewithal to support your ambitions.
I need not have disquieted myself, however.
It seems the required equipment does lie beneath those skirts of yours after all.
This man.
He was a...
He was a friend to me.
A friend at times when he had no call to be so.
He was a good man.
Have you ever known what that is?
You...
I who have brought him to his end.
(SIGHS) You believe a woman must become a man to own such an act?
How little you have learned, Ronald.
Miss Susan, what are you... No.
(BREATHING DEEPLY) Please.
No!
You shot him, Mr. Reid, in defense, once he had shot you.
Forgive me.
Forgive me.
(REID GASPS) (WHISPERING) Help me.
Help me.
What has happened, Mr. Reid?
Who has done this?
I'm shot.
I'm shot.
(REID STRUGGLING TO BREATHE) (EXHALES) ♪♪
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