All language subtitles for Slasher - 05x01 - The Slaughterhouse.GGEZ.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com (1)

- Good evening, sir.
- Looking for a little fun?

Always.

No one will bother us
if you'd care to join me.

We can do anything you want.

Get your fucking hands off of her.

I told you you're not welcome
here, Jack, so piss the fuck off!

If this is a matter of payment...

It's a matter of you being
a sick fucking pervert.

You should know that that
walking stick is worth more

than your putrid, rat-infested,
pathetic life.

A man does have a right to protect himself.

A woman does, too.

Except my girls can't against
sick, rich bastards like you.

Stay away from my girls and boys.

Or I'll carve you.

Not safe is this part of town for a...

young widow at this hour.

What are you hiding?

Might need to take a little peek...

...at that pretty face.

Although I don't know
if it's gonna stay pretty...

...much longer.

Oh! Ah!

Just let me go. I will disembowel you alive.

Wait. What are you... No. Oh, what
are you doing? No, no, just... just stop.

That's it. Just... just stop. No, no, no.

Let me go. No! Let me go! Let me go.

Stop! No, no, stop! Stop! Leave me alone!

Set me free at once!

What are you doing?!

You know, it's not easy,

waiting here with this thing dripping
blood and God knows what else beside you.

This thing has a name.

It's Alistair Simcoe.

You told me he was called Jack.

Society man wandering around
this side of town, he'd go by an alias.

Well, he wasn't fooling anyone
with the Jack bullshit,

getting off on pretending
to be Jack the Ripper.

Unless he was.

You remember that woman all chopped
up years back not too far from here?

Ah, no, they caught the
sick fuck who trapped her...

Hung him up by the neck until it
stretched out, right, Detective? Gah!

I just don't understand. How does
someone do that to another living being?

Looks like her killer was
using a double-bladed weapon.

Yeah, here and here.

Got the telltale pinching of the
skin where two blades would meet.

Large pair of shears, I were to guess.

Yeah, I think that was
a moral question, Detective.

And how did you happen across him?

I was with a fella.

He was going down the alley there,

and a lady in black raced past,
all bloody and breathy.

- A woman?
- Saw her with my own eyes. I did.

And I...

found him.

The alleyway is very dark.

How could you have possibly seen
what she was wearing?

They was widow's weeds.

Widow?

Perfect name for a killer.

But why did you call
Mr. Simcoe Jack the Ripper?

He'd get a hard-on carving up some of
my working girls. Carved up their faces.

You ask me, he had this coming.

The fuck's lucky it wasn't me.

- I don't know if I'd call that lucky.
- Outta' the way.

Glad I skipped breakfast.

- Wh-what was he doing down there?
- Tsk. My selfless sister,

Venetia, has often ventured
to the dark corners of the city

to administer to the needs
of the downtrodden,

but only during daylight hours, of course.

Your dear, departed Alistair was a...

...a saint among men,
to be down there at night.

Did he often venture to the Devil's Elbow?

Hmm?

Ah... Oh.

You have a guest. I must be off.

Our half-sister arrives from Boston
this very day. Remember, Regina,

Venetia and I are only three
houses down if you need us.

Mrs. Simcoe, I'm Detective
Kenneth Rijkers with the Toronto Police.

I'm afraid my neighbour, Viviana
Botticelli, has already beaten you to it.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

If my husband was down there...

...he was down there to help someone.

Someone in desperate need of it.

Did your husband have any enemies?

Anyone that would have reason to murder him?

He was in the wrong
place at the wrong time.

That may very well be true...

It is the truth, sir.

My... my husband could not possibly...

have become the target for some kind of...

premeditated murder; he is...

He was an upstanding member of society, sir.

- Mrs. Simcoe...
- we want to catch who did this.

And that means asking
some uncomfortable questions.

I promise we will catch them.

"The Widow is Here"?

"Is the Widow stalking the rich,

"or have the poor of Toronto
finally had enough?" Ah, bullshit.

Alistair loved mucking around in
the gutter, the poor, stupid bastard.

Enid Jenkins keeps trying to fan the flames.

That Cockney bitch will need a reminder:

I own the Echo Tribune, not her.

Would you like me
to pay her a visit, Mr. Garvey?

I'd like you to rip her fucking throat out.

Get your ass down to the
Devil's Elbow, Queen's Chamber,

any dark corner where people
sell their bodies.

Somebody killed Alistair, so...

...somebody will have to be dealt with.

I got a licence. I own this property.

I pay you fuckers and that shit-stain
Basil Garvey enough as it is already.

- If you're here to try...
- Mr. Crenshaw, that's not why I'm here.

There was a murder last night.

- There's a murder every night.
- Yes.

But this was a john murdered
down in the Devil's Elbow.

So?

So he was a member of the upper classes.

Alistair Simcoe?

You knew him?

Everyone knew that sick sadist.

Alistair did that to you?

It was his idea of a tip.

For my services.

- Was he charged?
- A gentleman like that?

I banned that piece of shit from
the Queen's Chamber for life.

We had nothing to do with his death.

No? Because that looks like
pretty good motivation for revenge.

We were all here last night, Detective.

Got a bar full of patrons to verify it.

You do, huh?

Men who'll go on record about spending
an evening in an establishment like this?

Hey.

I protect my girls and boys.

Queen's Chamber is a safe place
for them and my clients,

and because of that, that demonic prick
was reduced to hunting street walkers.

You want to know who might've
wanted revenge against Alistair Simcoe?

Any of the cheap pimps
and lost souls out there.

When you find out who it was...

tell me.

I'll buy them a fucking drink.

Whoa, whoa.

Yah!

Hello?

Hello?

Verdi!

Ah.

My word.

Look how pretty you are.
Prettier than your picture even.

It is incredible to finally meet you

after the passing of our dear father.

Sisters united in grief.

Let's get you inside, you poor dear.

You must be exhausted.

Travelling all the way from Boston.

It is so good that you're here.

I hope Toronto isn't too provincial
for someone as worldly as you.

Verdi, my dear?

Pardon. Uh... worldly, no.

Exhausted, however.

- Ah.
- But you're here now.

The Botticelli sisters.

Finally together.

Hmm.

Today, I will be performing
a radical nephrectomy

for a patient who suffers
from kidney disease.

Now, to get to the kidney,
I must cut through muscle.

Oh.

Remove some perirenal fat.

Our patient enjoys his food and his drink.

Ahem.

Next, I must remove the ureter.

The tube that transfers urine
to the bladder.

She means piss.

And once I've snipped...

...the last of the blood vessels...

...I can remove the kidney.

Wait.

Is that my...

Looks like somebody dropped by for a visit.

- Is that my... - Shhh...
- My...

My...

Nighty-night.

No fingerprints or trace. He
was alive at the start of the attack,

which began at his groin and
continued up along his spinal column.

Most likely bled to death,

but not before suffering extensive
damage to his internal organs.

The knots that were around his wrists...

seem to be of a kind common
in Japan... called the hayanawa.

How on Earth do you know that?

I'm curious about detective work everywhere.

So our victim suspended,

incapacitated, like a butterfly
on a mounting board.

Yes. Why?

The victim's arms restricted, the
killer could get to work with the shears.

And what I find interesting
about this is the attack. It's overkill.

Not if you want to display
the body on a horse post.

- Makes the murder...
- Personal.

The killer is strong.

Or very angry.

The anger could supply the strength.

This isn't just a random murder.

The killer's sending a message.

- Bullshit.
- Please, sir, hear me out.

The violence visited upon Alistair Simcoe,

it's... it's not random.

This is years of hate.

H-his body was put on a horse post...

Because the killer wants to know if
a horse post could fit in a man's ass.

Now we all know. He's a pervy,
sick fuck, just like the rest of his kind.

Her kind.

Witnesses say they saw a woman.

A woman? Tying a man to a wall,

giving him an ass extension up
to the back of his neck? Come on.

Son, you've been newly promoted
to detective,

so you're missing a
little of the obvious. One:

You got a man with a history of slicing
the faces of guys and gals he fucks.

You got a lot
of angry pimps and whores.

Add some booze and a dark, desolate street

and Mr. Fancy Pants winds up
with a cave for an ass.

Sir, I suppose I just
don't see it that way.

Mm-hmm.

That's 'cause you're new, fresh. You
think you gotta reinvent the wheel...

...when the wheel just keeps rolling through
the same shit year after year after year.

You wouldn't want us walking on the
carpets, let along fuckin' in your beds.

I'm inviting you. Please, come on.

What we do doesn't have to be
a gutter trade.

You want to know the biggest
thing keeping me away from there?

- Pay me 10%. It's nothing.
- See, you, I can handle.

It's Basil fuckin' Garvey.

We work at the Queen's. I'm
putting money in his pockets, yeah?

He owns the entire district. Can't buy a
meal down here without giving him money.

- Leave.
- Ah! Get your hands off of me!

- Hey!
- Get off my street and maybe I will!

Your street? What are you
going on about, your street?

My boss sent me down.

He doesn't own the fuckin' pavement!

No. But he owns the walls
you and your sluts fuck against.

Hey, hey, hey, hey! Calm down! Calm down.

You can't force people off a public street.

Oh, really, Terrence?

You want to go back to Mr. Garvey
and tell him that's what you think?

That's what I'm talking about.
Come to the Queen's Chamber...

You can fuck off.

Yeah?

And you can fuck off.

And so can Basil Garvey.

'Cause we're no longer gonna be
taking crap from you rich bastards.

You hear me? Us street rats are rising up!

So why don't you run off to your bastard,

and you tell him that if he keeps this up,

I'm gonna have my fist so far
up his fuckin' ass

that he'll be licking his own
shit pipe when I'm done with him.

You're gonna be sorry you said that.

Yeah... we'll see.

- It's for Daisy.
- Go on, get off of here!

Hmm. Maybe you
aren't ready for the Queen's Chamber.

That was a mistake.

- Your bedroom, it's...
- My Shangri-La.

Isn't it... otherworldly?

Yes, truly.

Tell us, sister ours,

do you have a dress
befitting a night full of magic?

I have the one I arrived in.
A-and another one very much like it.

Oh, that will not do.

No, it will not do at all. No, no.

Hmm.

This, however...

...will make you positively...

incandescent.

Oh, yes! Yes.

You'll be the belle of the ball.

We're going to a ball?

Even better.

Mm.

His bullheadedness is putting
his boys and girls in grave danger.

- It's not our problem.
- I've worked those streets for years.

And then you built this pleasure dome.

And when Horatio winds up
spread-eagled with a hot poker up his ass,

his boys and girls will flock to us

and we'll get them at a bargain.

Win-win.

Please.

You don't build a business
like this without thinking like that.

You're not a saint and neither am I.

That's the nature of our bond.

You didn't perform last night.

Oh.

So...

so where were you, then?

Every lady has her secret.

Georges Rondeau is an evil occultist!

He is a Satanist who cohorts with the dead!

God sees it and God will punish
all who condone it!

And he smote the men of Bethshemesh,

because they had looked
into the ark of the Lord,

over 50,000 men, simply for looking
at what was not theirs to admire!

And you would risk this for entertainment?

We believe you will entertain
demons in hell...

I'm sure our friend over there has
strayed from the path of righteousness

at least once in his life.

Every man has. Trust me.

Would you think ill of me if I told
you even I have had impure thoughts?

Viviana, my dear, I've
encountered them before, remember?

And I hope to again.

You can have every last
thought of mine, good sir.

Oh.

All you have to do is get down on
one knee... and ask me to marry you.

I'll be back momentarily.

- Where's our sister?
- Talking to an eligible bachelor.

His father's in the pork trade,
which, of course, is déclassé,

but he's richer than sin, a perfect match.

And you'll make it clear that we require
compensation for any love connection?

Ah, can't happen soon
enough. Selling Papa's

Chippendale desk was
a bolt through my heart...

Shh-shh-shh. Here she comes.

My sisters, what a glorious evening.

I'm so lucky. I can't imagine a
better way to be introduced to society.

Of course. And perhaps you
might find your Prince Charming.

Perhaps you already
have. Mr. Garvey,

may I introduce you to Verdi Botticelli,

our youngest sister,
newly transplanted from Boston?

Verdi, this is Basil Garvey,
the most prominent man in...

- No, no, no, no.
- I'm but your humble servant.

And so very pleased to meet you.

And I you, Mr. Garvey, I'm sure.

My sisters speak so very highly of you.

Oh, I don't know how they've
managed to keep you such a secret.

You Botticellis really are...

a trove of treasures.

Would you permit me to escort you both...

into the theatre?

I can't believe we're
actually seeing this...

...I can only hope

Greetings, worthy supplicants
to the darkest of arts.

Welcome, timid hearts and frightened souls.

If you doubted coming here, it's too late.

If you feared what I might do to you,

it is already done.

You are under my power

and ready to receive that
which you so secretly crave.

Welcome...

to the...

underworld.

You're perfectly safe, Verdi.

Oh!

We don't know
what might happen here tonight.

The forces I work with are...
peculiar... and deadly.

No one is immune to the danger
in this world,

as I'm sure the rich men in
this city are now only too aware.

Ah, well.

While they all nurse
their tender backsides...

...let us begin
with a ceremonial bloodletting,

as I take my dear assistant, Shanika...

...and saw her in half!

Dark agents...

abide by the rules of life and decency.

I've never used this saw before.

The last one broke
on my previous assistant's bone.

Jeez!

So I made sure this one was very...

...very...

...sharp!

I cannot bear to witness this!

It's
just a magic trick, my dear.

That's the thing about magic.

It comes... at a great cost.

Shanika.

My dear.

My beauty.

Oh, what have I done?

Gone.

And all my fault.

- Oh.
- Ah...

Thankfully...

I possess the power of Osiris.

I shall restore her...

...at great cost.

...to life!

Magique, mes amis.

Magique...

...pour vous.

Needles.

You have a fetish, Detective?

I don't think so.

I'd hate to have to tell Superintendent
Kashtinsky that I suspected that.

I was certain there had to be
some sort of clue on the body.

You don't trust my work?

Uh... no.

No, that's not it. I...

I can have a hard time letting go of things.

I obsess.

Our friend had a lot of vices.

Not unusual in those
who frequent sex workers.

Right there.

You feel that?

What do you suppose that is?

Oh.

Quite unique, Detective.

You realize that?

The boa-constrictor knot...

is a secret of the Egyptian royal family.

There are only three people who
have managed to escape it... ever.

Two of them...

eventually died... from
its mysteries.

- Sir. - One...
- Shhh.

...muscular consort...

- Shhh.
- ...of the queen...

of the Ptolemaic Kingdom itself...

...Cleopatra is said

to have witnessed his beautiful head...

...constricted
until it popped right off

and landed in her lap.

If it gets too scary, just close
those beautiful eyes of yours.

So if I die...

...its dark secret

dies with me

and my severed head.

Sir, we found this
in Alistair Simcoe's body.

I don't need to see
everything shoved up his ass.

Just read it.

"Alistair was first, one of many."

The other gents will bleed
from wounds aplenty.

Friends of Margaret...

"...are my target."

I can head to the Simcoe
residence first thing in the morning.

You'll go there now.

- Sir, it's late.
- Mrs. Simcoe's in mourning.

That maniac is out there, free as a bird.

I don't want them taunting us
and lining up their next kill.

On the double, then, sir.

Report back whatever you find.

Any update on Alistair's murder?

We don't know just yet.

But one thing is clear.

Things are very dangerous
for people like us.

People like us? What do you mean?

People who were there that night...

...12 years ago.

- Why could this not wait until morning?
- My apologies, Mrs. Simcoe,

but I wouldn't have come
if it wasn't important.

We found new evidence
on your husband's body.

On his body?

- It begins, "Alistair was but..."
- I prefer to read it myself.

Well, there's... there's
bloodstains on it, Mrs. Simcoe. You...

I can make neither heads nor tails of it.

Who's Margaret?

Well, I was hoping you could tell me.

I've never ventured inside
my husband's office before.

It's like I can feel him.

Like
Alistair is in here with us.

Right beside me.

I've been told I have the gift.

Well, this is a revelation.

- Mrs. Simcoe...
- If you continue to presume yourself

to be of stronger mettle than
me, I will ask you to leave.

- I don't have a key.
- You won't need one.

What a truly wondrous evening!
However did you learn all those tricks?

And all those lovely people
wearing such finery!

I've never experienced such an
enchanting evening in my entire life!

- Enchanting?!
- I think you mean bewitching!

Like how you tried to bewitch
Basil Garvey and steal him from me!

- I did nothing of the sort.
- We opened our doors and our arms to you.

Our hearts! And this is how you
repay us? How you repay me?!

For replacing your flea-bitten
clothes with one of my gowns?!

Basil's the man I love.
He is promised to me!

And he will see through you,
because his love for me is pure!

His love for me is pure.

I swear to you, sister, I
have no designs on Mr. Garvey.

I see through you, you viper!

You cast off my dress like a
serpent sloughs off its skin!

Go!

And let me not see you anymore this night!

I... I swear to you, Venetia,
our sister has misconstrued things.

I would never try to steal her true love.

Wouldn't you?

No, that's not who I am.

And who are you, Verdi? Truly.

Our father's illegitimate
daughter, the spawn of a whore.

Your blood is tainted
with hers, which is why

on his deathbed, our
dear father sent you to us.

So that Viviana and I might
forge a virtuous woman out of you.

So that you might become worthy enough
to be betrothed to a man of your station.

Drape yourself over me.

What?

Disease requires medicine.

I have the cure.

That's a good girl.

There's hope for you yet.

Oh, no.

We're only getting started.

Hey, how's about I plant
Toronto's biggest oak

in that sweet ass of yours in
exchange for a bank note or two?

What? Too girthy for ya?

Is it really
as large as you say it is?

♪ Daisy Daisy ♪

♪ Give me your answer do... ♪

♪ I'm half crazy ♪

♪ Over my love of you ♪

Unless you're here to have a good time,

and pay for it...

I suggest you and your friends... fuck off.

Rats.

Fuckin' bastards.

Well, at least I know Alistair
left everything to me in his will.

My apologies, Mrs. Simcoe.

It seems I've kept you up for no reason.

No. No, you had a very good reason.

Unfortunately, Alistair is being
of no help from beyond the grave.

Hmm.

They're the same size.

- What are the same size?
- The cab drawers.

They're the same size...

...and yet

this file doesn't fit.

A false bottom.

Margaret Mehar.

I need to take this.

Of course. But what does this all mean?

I'll tell you as soon as I know.

We gave all you scum a
warning, but you wouldn't listen!

Let go! Fucking bastard!

Daisy!

You murderous bastards!

Oh, Daisy.

Hey.

Daisy.

He killed her.

That rich bastard Basil Garvey killed her.

He killed my Daisy.

You're here to cleanse
this godforsaken city, huh?

So forget about the small-time fucks
like Alistair Simcoe and kill Garvey.

He's the source of all evil.

Kill him.

Oh... Daisy...

You're too good for this world.

Oh...

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