All language subtitles for ripper.street.s01e06.1080p.bluray.x264-shortbrehd

[PEOPLE SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY]

ALL [CHANTING]:
Scab, scab, scab!

Come on, boys, let's get in there!
Come on, move it, move it, move it!

Get out of the way, everybody!

Ladies and gentlemen...

[BRASS BAND PLAYING]

BOY:
Relief fund, spare a penny? Relief fund.

[CHATTERING]

Joshua. Your piece is magnificent.

The steward, Daniel. I need him.

- Where is he?
- At the picket with the pamphleteers.

[m RUSSIAN]

[SPEAKING IN RUSSIAN]

MORRIS:
The state is nothing but organized force.

But the courage of our dockland brothers
is spreading.

Men stand, at last, eye to eye
with the cheap doll of the state...

...stripped of her tinsel trappings.

At last, brothers, yes.

The veil torn asunder for all time.

[MEN CHATTERING]

[DOG BARKING NEARBY]

[DOOR OPENS THEN CLOSES]

REID:
Emily?

Should I not wait outside, sir?

No, no. She'll be cheered by the visit,
I'm sure.

Emily, I'm with Bennet. Emily?

[PIGEON COOING]

REID:
What on earth is going on?

Mrs. Reid.

I'll, uh-- I'll wait in the parlor.

I heard a crashing in here.
The poor creature came down the flue.

I made to catch it
then found myself sitting.

Looking at her books.

Her toys.

The music box you gave her.

I've barely entered this room
in a year, Edmund...

...and I've scarcely seen you all week.

This strike, it's taking up all my time.

I'll be home tonight, I promise.
I brought you these...

...before even the florists down tools.

I want it cleared, Edmund.

What?

This room, all of it. I want it cleared.

I believe she went to church, sir.

Ah.

Inspector, I know this must be
a difficult time for you.

And for Mrs. Reid.

I mean, I know a year does not begin
to ease the pain of losing her.

Thank you, Bennet.

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

MAN:
Inspector Reid?

DRAKE: Neighbors had been complaining
about the whiff of gas, apparently.

Front was tarted up
like a Cremorne grotto.

[cow-nus]

Do you take this for a gas blast?

The force didn't come from the pipes.

- Then where?
- I'm working on it.

DRAKE:
Poor bugger.

JACKSON:
You can forget about gas, Reid.

Here's your detonator.

- A bomb?
JACKSON: Yeah.

Found blasting caps behind the shelves.

Our boy was definitely a bomb-builder.
My guess is his dynamite was unstable.

Take him back to Leman Street.
We need to find out who he was.

Hobbs, to the Yard, full emergency, man.
We've a bomber.

Should I tell the ones who was here?

What?

Two of them, sir.
Before you three arrived.

- Who?
- Didn't give their names, sir.

Just said they was Yard.

Took one look, they did,
then made off in their hansom.

This rag's from Berner Street.
That's a rock we need to kick over first.

The Workers' Educational Club.

DRAKE:
Come on, lads.

[BANG ON DOOR]

MONRO:
The Special Branch, Reid.

Made the scene straightaway
then struck directly at the vermin's nest.

Is this the start of a campaign, sir'?
What are we facing?

I'm assured the matter is in hand.

I have the bomber's remains here.

- We have yet to identify--
- Jew, name of Bloom.

Rabid anarchist and revolutionary
of the Berner Street slough.

The Special Branch had been watching him
for some time.

Perhaps they should have watched
closer.

MONRO:
Bloom's death is a Special Branch case.

You stick to the strike.

None of us are safe
from the leftist cancer.

- Have you read this?
- Yes, I'm aware of that.

"Should the strikers' action persist
in paralyzing our docks...

...the great machine by which
5 million people are fed and clothed...

...will come to a dead stop.

And what is to be the end of it all?"
What indeed.

The strikers are hardly revolutionists, sir.

Working men deserve fair pay.

Last week, a dozen dockers who tried
to work had their bones cracked.

A constable from J-Division went home
with a bloodied nose.

- All I-
- The great machine is breaking down.

With the greatest of respect, sir...

...the strikers number in their thousands.

A handful of troublemakers
does not make them all anarchists.

Firebrands and ruffians, Reid.

Who must be brought to heel
if social order is to prevail.

And the East End is the root of it.

What do you suggest, sir?

Well, I believe you still have a Pinkerton
on your ticket?

You don't seem to be hearing me, Reid.
Not a chance.

Every man in my shop is a known face.

- None with your experience.
- I envy them.

- I told you there was coin in it.
- I told you it was dirty work.

Does every Pinkerton's conscience
plague him thus?

Why don't you find a Pinkerton
and ask him?

- I'm a surgeon, not a strike-breaker.
- We are simply trying to keep order.

Last time they told me that, eight policemen
wound up dead with half the town on fire.

This is not the Wild West.

Neither was Chicago.

The violent elements
need to be picked out.

Now, I wish there were someone else
I could ask, but there is not.

- You will oblige me--
- I'm not gonna put down working men...

...for goddamn plutocratic high
muckety-mucks--

- or Monro has told me to arrest you.

For what?

For whatever I please.

For whoremongering, for brawling,
for pistol-wielding, for card-fixing.

If there is a decency upheld by law
in this land...

...it is a law you will have broken,
so do not test me.

Well?

You can get to it after you've dealt
with our man Bloom here.

He's got a name now?

So it seems.

JACKSON:
You wanna see what else he's got?

Stab wound?

JACKSON:
Stabbed once. With skill.

Straight into the heart.

He didn't blow himself up.

He was already dead
when the bomb went off.

Send a full report
on your way to the docks.

ARTHERTON:
Inspector, you've a visitor.

May I offer you some water, Miss Goren?

Inspector, I...

I need to talk to you
about the man who died in the blast.

Bloom?

His name is Joshua.

I come on behalf of his brother
to request you release his remains.

Swift burial is our custom, inspector.

May I ask how you knew Mr. Bloom?

We fled Kiev together.

Traveled, on to London.

Were you aware of his politics?

I knew his beliefs
and his hatred of violence.

The man I knew is no bomb-maker.
Do you understand?

Forgive me,
these were secreted amongst his affairs.

Do they mean anything to you?

You recognize these men?

No, but I've seen enough of Russian soldiers
to last me a lifetime.

These uniforms are Russian?

This also. The letters, at least,
but I don't understand it.

It's gibberish.

I should very much like to show these
to Joshua's brother.

-Isaac is grieving, inspector.
- I appreciate that--

Then you'll appreciate
he's unlikely to want visitations...

...from policemen who believe
his brother wished to dynamite London.

I should like to speak to him
because I believe his brother was murdered.

Will you allow me to show him?

I am sorry for you, Miss Goren.

Thank you.

The policeman and the blackleg,
savage hirelings both.

And (aced wan mew flake,
hams, We: heathen;...

...must we not ask, is protest enough?

PROTESTERS:
No!

Mere protest.

When has vicious power
ever heeded mere protest?

PROTESTERS:
Never!

And faced with mere protest...

...vicious power
will crush your strike to dust.

Protest will be heard!

You anarchists just want a war
with all that is.

All we want is fair pay.

War has been forced upon us.

And the choice
is not how we call ourselves.

The choice is slavery and hunger,
or liberty and bread.

PROTESTERS:
Yeah!

And if, with me, you choose the latter...

...then to arms.

To arms, say I.

A stake through the hearts
of those vampires who will rule you!

[CHEERING AND SHOUTING]

Today, on this very dock...

...let us meet force...

...with righteous force.

Yeah!

[SOFT MUSIC PLAYING]

[mum-nus]

[MUSIC STOPS]

[CHILDREN CHATTERING AND LAUGHING]

HOBBS:
Sir! Sir! Inspector Reid, sir.

Isaac will be a moment, inspector.

- May I offer you some tea?
- Thank you.

[CHILD CRYING NEARBY]

ISAAC:
Please.

Do not touch it.

These are Fibonacci spirals.

[SPEAKS IN LATIN]

[IN ENGLISH]
The inspector knows his logarithmics.

Isn't it something?

Morphogenesis, evolution of pattern.

Galileo said mathematics was the language
with which God has written the universe.

I seek the hidden words.

You might term it
a kind of detective work.

In my detective work,
I find little evidence of God.

But you seek order in all things,
inspector.

The notion of meaningless chaos
is abhorrent to you.

Raw anarchy.

I know what the word anarchy
means to you policemen...

...but you don't know what it meant
to my brother.

An-arkhos, without ruler.

No more nor less.

[SIGHS]

Joshua believed in altruism...

...mutuality, peaceful end
to man's dominion over man.

He railed against farce of all kinds.

What was he doing with dynamite?

Deborah says you are trustworthy,
Inspector Reid.

And that you believe
Joshua was murdered.

What do you know of the Okhrana?

The Russian secret police.

Agents of hate.

For them, a Jew with radical ideas
is a double foe.

Mr. Bloom, this is not Russia.

Don't be naive, inspector.

Since they crushed the revolutionaries
at home...

...the Okhrana has widened
its jurisdiction.

They're in Berlin, Paris, London.

Berner Street was sanctuary
to plenty of exiled radicals...

...and Joshua believed they had a spy.
He told me he'd obtained evidence.

- The box?
- Mm-hm.

This was his evidence.

I'm sure of it.

Eh...

A cipher, and a complex one. Military.

- Can you decrypt it?
- Mm-hm.

In time, but there is no riddle to this.

Soldiers of the Russian empire.

Joshua identified the Berner Street spy
and I think he was killed for it.

One of these men is my brother's killer.

He murdered Joshua and left a bomb
to smear all radical thinkers.

That is what they do, inspector.

Why do you imagine
so many have fled Russia?

May I walk you somewhere, Miss Goren?

I would not like to keep you
from your duties.

No, it's quite all right.

BOY:
Relief fund. Give a penny.

GOREN:
Oh.

BOY:
Relief fund.

Is the basic dignity of the working man
too revolutionary for you, inspector'?

No, I have no issue with the strike.
I fear its spread.

I hear the biscuit makers
are out in solidarity.

However will H Division cope?

Well, we intend to riot
all the way down Leman Street.

[GOREN CHUCKLES]

You may not believe this, inspector,
but you and Joshua were not so different.

Ah, he would have loathed
everything I stand for.

He loathed injustice.

He looked around him,
saw what was broken...

...and devoted his life to try and fix it.

By dismantling civilization?

Inspector, if this is civilization...

...you may count me thoroughly curious
to witness barbarism.

[CLAMORING]

Come on, gents,
let's give the men some space, please!

PROTESTERS [CHANTING]:
Scabs! Scabs!

Move along now. Just move it along.

- Who wants to turn a blackleg green?
- You stand aside.

This stuffs bloody poison.

You're the poison, crusher.

Back off. Now.

[SHOUTING AND CHANTING CONTINUES]

MORRIS:
Behold.

The scab sheep and their herding bitch.

You move along, all of you.

MORRIS:
Piss off, copper.

You heard me.

I said clear out.

MORRIS:
Smash the bastards!

[MOB SHOUTING]

[GRUNTING]

Revolution begins
with decapitation of the State.

Who wants to carve the pig?

You?

You then.

Are you warriors or gutless lackeys?

You.

Or I'll have your eyes.

JACKSON:
I wanna do it.

MORRIS:
Throat first so he can't scream.

[GRUNTING]

[GUNSHOT

MORRIS:
What do they call you, Yankee?

Richards.

Peter Morris.

So, what's an American doing
in Whitechapel with a gun under his coat?

I left the last town under a cloud.

Which town was that?

Chicago.

You were at the Haymarket?

Are you a Pinkerton?

Ha. We heard reports of their treachery.

Factory owners didn't like
the workers turning Red...

...so the bastards hired the Pinks.

Spying scum.

Crawled into us like a screwworm,
turning brother on brother.

It's said
that a Pinkerton threw the bomb.

Eighty thousand marching in peace.

Speeches for days
with not a man harmed.

Then the police came to move us
and the Pinks knew how to bury us.

Yeah, it was a goddamn Pinketon,
all right.

I saw the bomb leave his hand.

Then I saw bodies blown to pieces
in a city at war...

...while the best men of the revolution
went to the scaffold for it.

Their murders shall not be in vain...

...for the Pinkertons did us a service.

Yes, a service.

Let us be known for brutal force.

Let terror be our tool.

Freedom is not given, it is taken.

The men they hanged in Chicago
were martyrs.

The men that they hanged in Chicago
were my brothers...

...and I've come here
to see that fight through.

Then we need more soldiers like you.

What we need is escalation.

We shall talk further, American.

Tomorrow, the struggle begins anew.

[MERCHANTS SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY]

REID:
Who's handling the Bloom case at the Yard?

Man's name is Constantine,
golden boy of the Special Branch.

REID:
The Okhrana is mixed up in it.

FRED:
Russian spies in Whitechapel.

It's a new world.

Ed.

Edmund?

Let it go, friend.

This is my division, not Constantine's.

I'm not talking about your damn Russian.

I'm talking about your daughter.

You do not understand.

I understand better than anyone else
and you know that.

It's been a year.

Let it go.

Emily asked me to clear her room.

Clear it. Erase her from our home.

A mother's grief.

For a child who lives.

- Edmund-
- She's out there, Fred.

I feel it.

But I, uh...

The same dream.

Almost a year to the day.

And every night, the same.

Shadows swarming round her and...

She lives.

I've a hansom. I'll take you home.

These are my streets. I'll walk them.

Uh, I'm not sure I fully understand, sir.

How can I be clearer, Reid?

You pull your American
and you do it now.

But the strike?

If I decide to alter the tactics
of our policing...

...I may do so
without your consultation, inspector.

As you wish.

[REID CLEARS THROAT

Commissioner, I should like a word
with Superintendent Constantine...

...of the Special Branch.

Concerning?

Concerning the part
of the Russian Okhrana...

...in the murder of Joshua Bloom.

Reid, have you or have you not been told
this is not your damned case?

I would have thought
you had enough on your plate...

...bringing some semblance of order
to this hellhole of a division.

Or have I missed something?

Did you manage to catch your whore killer
who made a bloodbath of your streets?

Or does he remain amok...

...while you skip after fanciful notions
of Russian assassins?

I will tolerate no further insubordination.
Do you understand?

Hobbs, get out of uniform
and get down to the dock.

Find Jackson, tell him-

Peter Morris. Berner Street radical.

He would've had the sergeant's head here
for a football.

I want him in irons.
Where did you follow him? Show me.

I followed him west along the river,
to this house here.

This house? Chesham House?
You're certain?

This is the Russian embassy.

You said Morris was at Berner Street.

Look at that. Do you see him?

JACKSON:
That's him.

That's Peter Morris.

REID:
This is our killer.

Morris is Bloom's Russian spy.

He wants me to meet him later.

Go with. Bring him in. Be careful.

- Where are you going?
- Going to see some Russians.

Oh, Jackson, I, uh...

l, uh...

You're welcome.

I think not.

I'm not presenting it for debate.

He was followed from Whitechapel.

You've a Jew problem there, no?

In Russia, we stamp them out.

In England,
you throw your doors wide open.

I'm sorry you find our liberties
so distasteful, Mr. Volsky.

And I am sorry it has taken you
so long to curtail them.

I heard that, uh, at last you have raided a den
of Jew radicals.

Finish the job, inspector. Crush them.

Or they will murder your queen...

...no less viciously
than they murdered our tear.

REID:
You sent Peter Morris to London...

...to stir them up and paint them black.

I believe their flag was already black.

Inspector, Russia is not the source...

...of every malady
that afflicts Britannia...

...nor of every dead Hebrew
found in Whitechapel.

I'm sorry I can't be of more help.

How do you know he was Jewish?

The man I believe Morris killed.

You said dead Hebrew.

I didn't say he was Jewish.

Aren't they all?

In your foul warren?

Now, if you will excuse me, inspector...

...I have to attend
to more pressing matters of state.

Good day.

Stand Morris down or I'll see him hang.

ARTHERTON:
Inspector.

This one, ahem, says he knows you.

It's polyalphabetic.
I was able to use Kasiski's test.

- And?
- A communiqué about a soldier.

Commander Yevgeny Zotkin,
expert in sabotage and explosives...

...sent here by the Okhrana.

Zotkin. He's going by the name Morris.
He was at the Russian embassy.

Inspector,
the communiqué describes his mission.

To smear anarchists and radicals.

To bomb London in their name.

- Where?
-It does not say.

Only that he is to unleash death and havoc
on the city.

I need to know the target. How can I stop
a bomb if I don't know the target?

Hobbs! All divisions, full alert.

We have proof
a Russian bomber's at large.

And wire Monro, I'm coming to the Yard.

NORWOOD:
Let us battle no more.

Sirs, I stand hereto offer not rancor,
but reason.

Has not this war exhausted us?

Can we, any of us,
face yet more grim attrition?

Enough, I say.

MAN:
Then give us our tanner.

PROTESTERS:
Yeah!

NORWOOD:
Good sirs, good sirs!

Would you allow socialists
and communists to bankrupt...)

JACKSON: He wants to meet on the corner.
Watch my back and get the son of a bitch.

MAN:
We march under no flag, Mr. Norwood...

...neither red nor black.

We wave the banner only of fairness
and ask for a fair sixpence.

NORWOOD:
There can be no wage raise.

It is impossible.

[PROTESTERS BOOING]

Men, are not your pantries empty?

Do not your children hunger more
by the day?

Your jobs, good, paying toil,
remain for you.

The company is prepared to forgive,
yes, to rehire any man...

...who longs for coin in his pocket
and bread in his belly.

[PROTESTERS BOOING]

REID:
Wrong turn.

Driver!

CONSTANTINE:
I'm Superintendent Constantine.

You wished to speak to me.

There is a Russian bomber in the city.

Mm, about that.

Stay away from Yevgeny Zotkin.

You think we don't know
who he is, Reid?

That you're ahead of the game?

Yes, Zotkin is Peter Morris.

When the Russians sent him here,
we were wise to it, arrested him.

Then why is he on the loose?

Because we made him our agent too,
you bloody fool.

The Russians are right
about the anarchists...

...communists, socialists,
all the revolutionary scum.

Find we share an aim,
to flush them to the gutter.

You share an aim?

Zotkin was sent to make London burn.

I'm keeping London safer than you know.

Zotkin's been feeding us information
from his embassy.

He's on my leash now, not the Russians'.

And who tugged his leash to kill Bloom?

- Bloom was a menace.
- He was a pacifist.

He had ideas, Reid, and people listened.

Ideas are far more dangerous
than any bomb.

Do you want
the Paris Commune rebuilt here?

Open war on the streets of London?

I already have explosions on my streets.

You are an accessory to murder...

...and Monro shall hear of this.

MONRO:
I can hear perfectly well, inspector.

Commissioner, you allowed this?

I allowed Zotkin to be deployed
among the anarchists.

To provoke them, to break them down,
to discredit Bloom...

...not to detonate him.

Zotkin had no choice.

But then it became apparent
that nobody here...

...was able to follow their damn orders.

If he'd merely planted dynamite on Bloom,
Bloom could still have exposed him.

You gave Zotkin the dynamite?

Yes, Reid, and thanks to me,
the Berner Street cesspit is no more.

Sir, our best asset remains Zotkin,
not Reid's Yankee pox doctor.

With Zotkin, I can end this bloody strike
before our city falls apart.

And that is the only matter in hand,
the defense of the realm.

MONRO:
Constantine is right.

These are desperate times.

You have your duties at H Division,
inspector.

Return to them.

You're privy to this...

...only because your pitiful attempts
at investigation are a hindrance.

I need not stress the import of discretion.

Go to hell.

You used to like water, didn't you, Reid?

Boats. You and Mathilda.

Yeah, what a terrible loss.

A little girl, so innocent of our world.

How well you did to shield her
from all its jagged shadows.

You could never blame yourself, Reid.

And nor could Emily.

Why ever should she have reason
to blame you?

Well, we know, don't we?

The import of discretion, inspector.

Oh. And your Yankee.

I may have a use for him after all.

Good day.

MORRIS:
Comrade.

You'd better have a bunch of roses for me
because I don't like being stood up.

It could not be helped.
I was being followed.

Police.

- You lose them?
- Police are idiot dogs.

For a man of wit and purpose,
gulling them is child's play.

Let's get a drink.

Ifs easy to talk of escalation.

But talk achieves nothing, Mr. Richards.

We must ask ourselves:

How deep is our conviction?

How broad our courage?

I came here to win a war.

That blade.

Indian, isn't it?

What of it?

You been?

There are police spies...

...among our comrades here.

Did you know that, Mr. Richards?

- I had heard it.
- My lodgings are being watched.

We'll talk further at yours.

You son of a bitch, I'll kill both of you ba-

[SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

I know who killed Joshua,
and I know why.

But I cannot do anything about it.

He is protected.

- By whom?
- By the police.

I was wrong.

He was nothing like you.

He was unafraid to pursue the truth.

- Please leave.
- Deborah...

In Russia, the police drove us
from our homes.

They murdered, tortured with impunity.

Joshua saved my life, inspector.

We came here
because we thought we'd be safe.

- Get out.
- Ah!

Get out! Out!

I'm sorry.

- Are you hurl?
- No, no.

Let me see.

What happened to you?

At first, I felt its shadow...

...then I saw the second boat
bearing down on us.

The hull split.

We were thrown down the deck.

Mathilda...

Mathilda slid away from me.

Something fell.

Something molten, crushing.

And I could not reach her.

Watched her vanish over the side.

Then everything went dark.

- I'm so sorry.
- They never found her.

They found bodies, they dredged the water,
accounted for every soul.

But five...

- Five?
- Five people did not die that day.

How, I do not know,
but, uh, it is so, must be so.

And Mathilda is one of them.

She's alive, Miss Goren.

I feel it.

I feel it in my marrow.

Does your wife have this sense also?

Perhaps it is too hard for her
to cling to so frail a--

It is not frail.

I'm...

It was my fault.

How could that be?

And they knew.

They knew.

[CHILDREN SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

Hello. That's nice.

- Thank you, Miss Goren.
- Whatever for, inspector'?

Morris, sir.

I'm afraid he, um...

We weren't able to, um...

Miss Goren.

- Sir, if I may?
- I'm going home.

[DOOR OPENS THEN CLOSES]

Edmund? ls something the matter?

L, uh...

I needed...

Your weeds?

Your mourning weeds.

I have to'

Excuse me. I'm to the shelter.

Please don't. Please.

Please stay. Stay with me here a while.

- They need me.
- I need you!

Could you consider that once.

Just once before your shelter
and your church?

CONSTANTINE:
At last you rouse.

I was beginning to fear Mr. Morris
had damaged what little brains you have.

- Where's Susan?
CONSTANTINE: Locked up with her whores.

Be a helpful fellow and I shan't
fling them all in the syphilitic asylum.

Who the hell are you?

I am Superintendent Constantine.

Police? Morris is yours?

Get Reid.

H Division. Now.

Edmund Reid can't help you, Homer.

So, what do you want?

No more than your mark.

This is a confession.

Your confession.

That you plotted this very day...

...with the help of other strike supporters
and foul leftist denizens...

...the bombing
of a dock company warehouse.

And by the grace of God,
or your own stupidity...

...an empty warehouse.

But a terrorist act nonetheless...

against a noble champion of commerce.

How could you?

I imagine the authorities
will need to meet...

...such an escalation of strike tactics
with decisive force.

You'd let Morris bomb the city
to break a strike?

You're a goddamn maniac.

And you, Homer, were an anarchist
in the Haymarket massacre.

I was a Pinkerton.

Hmm.

Allow me to share with you
my intriguing discovery.

In the last 10 years...

...no Captain Homer Jackson
has boarded a ship from America...

...nor disembarked one here.

And the Pinkertons
seem never to have heard of you.

All of which begs a question.

Is Homer Jackson real?

Is he flesh and blood...

...the hearty stuff of man...

...or but a ghostly vapor of dim fancy?

[JACKSON GRUNTING]

We have need of a scapegoat, captain.

And you are he.

Ah.

- Sign.
JACKSON: Listen to me, Constantine.

I've known men like Morris before.
He ain't your running dog.

I had to stop him
from gutting a policeman.

You think you're handling him?

He's handling you.

[JACKSON YELLS]

Sign.

You don't really seem to be hearing me.

Morris does not give a shit
about your empty warehouse...

...and you're giving him free reign
to blow a hole in London! Ah!

CONSTANTINE:
We need to fix that ugly mouth of yours.

[JACKSON GRUNTING]

JACKSON [MUFFLED]:
I'll sign it! I'll sign it!

I'll sign it. I'll sign it.

[GRUNTS]

Come and get your cream, Peaches.

[POUND YELLS]

Who are you?

My name's Homer Jackson.

[GRUNTING]

And I'm all flesh and blood.

ABBERLINE:
Hello, Ed.

113?;

They knew it all, Fred.

The Special Branch.

How could they know?

I confided once...

...in but one living soul.

So how could they know about Mathilda?

Wad m.

They gave me no choice.
You know how they are now.

They said you'd compromised
their operation.

Defense of the realm?

Monro sent me...

...a last warning.

Unless you rescind, consent to silence...

...he will concoct a premise...

...for your disgrace and expulsion.

Jackson?

Constantine.

Give me that goddamn chair.

He's sent Morris out with a bomb.

He thinks the target
is an empty warehouse.

But Morris is playing him, I know it.

Constantine, where is he?

Out cold in the whores' boudoir.

Then we finish this.

Get me Drake! Now!

[GRUNTS]

You've lost your mind, inspector.

- Zotkin's bomb. Where?
- I'll have you thrown out of the police.

Try again.

Perhaps you should ask
Superintendent Constantine.

You gulled him, not me.

I had the communiqué decoded.

Zotkin is not here to vandalize
a derelict warehouse.

His plan is to wreak havoc and death.
Where'?

[CHUCKLES]

The chess game our two empires
are playing in:

India, Persia, Afghanistan.

This is the game we play here in London.

Do you know what we call it in Russia?

Tuniry Teney, Tournament of Shadows.

And that is what you are chasing, inspector,
a shadow.

And the closer you try to shine
your little torch...

...the less you will ever see.

Now, let me out before I declare you
an enemy of the Russian empire.

Your Zotkin was sent to prey
on desperate men."

...foment them...

...give them the taste of the blood
of fatted rulers.

Would've had them slaughter my sergeant.
Imagine what meat they'd make of you.

They will do nothing...

...because there is a cloud of death
coming for this city...

...and they will be the first among
thousands to taste its bitter rain.

The chemical store
where he jumped me...

...they was unloading Paris Green.

That's arsenic. He blows that,
he's gonna poison half the city.

VOLSKY:
The game's already over, Reid.

And you lost.

Sergeant, release Mr. Volsky.

[VOLSKY YELLS]

You can't do this!

Reid!

[WOMAN LAUGHING]

[PEOPLE CLAMORING]

MAN:
Open the gates!

Mum

Shit.

[RUSTLING]

He's here. Find it. Find the bomb.

Mum

[JACKSON YELLS]

REID:
Zotkin. Hey!

REID:
Can you defuse them?

You help him.

Come on. Get up.

Turn the small one
so the clockwork faces towards me.

Be careful.

One down.

Zotkin, it's over.

MORRIS [IN RUSSIAN ACCENT]:
Edmund Reid.

It's barely begun.

I doubt that imbecile Constantine
will forgive me this time.

But you're going to let me walk away.

That's right, inspector, follow my voice.

JACKSON:
Take this.

Clamp the black one.

DRAKE: This one?
JACKSON: Yeah, steady.

DRAKE:
It's still turning.

- Put another one in.
- I don't have another one.

JACKSON: Got a match?
DRAKE: A match?

Give me a match, goddamn it.

Mum

[TICKING STOPS]

[SIGHS]

Neither of us wishes to meet death today,
inspector.

But only one of us fears her not.

You will let me walk away.

Or you will burn with me...

...and every ton of arsenic,
mercury, sulfur.

Our cinders in a poison rainbow
over London...

...and every drawn breath
turned into venom.

Maybe they were right.

The anarchists who preach beauty
in destruction.

The beauty of your precious city crippled.

The beauty of your Jew radicals
bearing all blame.

Do svidanya, inspector.

[SPEAKS m RUSSIAN]

- What?
- Beware your shadow.

Glass jaw.

Needless to say, the Yard
is wholly appreciative of your efforts.

What about Constantine?

The man is a disgrace.
His days at the Special Branch are over.

Once he's handed Zotkin back
to the Russians.

- Once he's what?
-orders have been handed down.

- From whom?
- From the Home Secretary, Reid.

You're aware of the empire's issues
with Hindustan.

Some months ago, the Russians captured
two of our operatives along the border.

Zotkin will be traded for them.

This man intended to bomb London.

He must stand trial and be sentenced.

I'd like to see that Russian bastard
swing no less than you.

But it's over, Reid.

Zotkin returns to his own.

Without his disruption,
the strikers have won the day.

Let order resume in our city.

[CHATTERING]

MAN:
Thanks for your time.

Miss Goren.

Inspector.

[GOREN SPEAKS IN RUSSIAN]

I am sorry I could not do more.

Joshua was right.

Justice has become a commodity.

Is this the shadow of what is to be,
inspector?

My brother used to say:

"The future belongs to men of reason...

...not of faith."

- On that, I would agree with him.
- Mm.

Yet there are scholars of the Talmud
who tell us...

...the day we throw off
the shackles of government...

...and accept no authority but God's...

...none will hurt or destroy.

They say we shall have then
the true order of universal harmony.

And you share his belief?

I'm not a prophet...

...or a revolutionist.

I'm a mathematician.

And mathematics tells us
something different.

The entropy of the universe
tends to a maximum.

Do you understand?

A little.

Disorder, inspector.

Everything...

...from the smallest system
to our entire world...

...moves always, irretrievably...

...from order into chaos.

And there's nothing to be done about it.

Do you share that belief?

No.

Well, perhaps you are, after all,
a man of faith.

The next matter to which we attend.
We find her, there he will be also.

SUSAN: Any man other than you
would have caused me less trouble.

[GIRL SCREAMS]

JACKSON:
Long day?

The longest.

[English - US - SDH]