All language subtitles for Ripper Street - 3x03 - Ashes and Diamonds.WebRip.FaiLED.en

55 lives given up for unregistered

and anonymous bearer bonds.

Does this buy back a life?

She was being held prisoner in a cellar.

Who is she?

The girl is Reid's daughter.

I will do right by the girl.

What is it you ask of me?

There was nothing that
could be done for the child.

She was buried this morning.

Tell us about your cellar, Mr. Buckley.

- Who was she?!
- Matilda Reid.

How could you keep her from me?

You...

never loved her the way I did.

Reid, do not to this, brother.

You couldn't love her
enough to keep her then.

Edmund!

Inspector.

You may have five minutes.

I can give no more.

Ladies and gentlemen...

My name

is Alexander Le Cheyne,

and in this place,

at this moment...

we are not alone.

Your lost ones, those you grieve,

those whose absence
cuts deep like a blade...

the face, the voice,

the touch which seem forever forsaken...

they are here,

all around us,

with us now.

Amid the secret hidden vapors of this world

the shimmer and languish and yearn unseen.

In this let I be your
humble servant and medium,

for your lost ones,

they are not lost.

They are here.

They are not lost.

I feel him.

He's in pain, Mrs. Wakefield.

A pain that

only your love can salve and balm.

The locomotive calamity
which tore him from you was

so sudden, so...

so cruel.

I love you, William.

He knows, Madame.

Your William knows.

Oh. He...

he would use me as conduit that

you may know his voice from beyond.

Oh.

Will you permit that?

Mr. Marvell,

if you please.

I see him.

Oh!

I...

He's...

Oh!

Help.

- Alex!
- Mr. Le Cheyne!

- synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -

It is offered to you, then?

This room?

Mr. Reid's position,

effective immediate.

What you came back for,

- ain't it?
- Not like this, Donald.

Be that as it may, Inspector,

the division needs a man behind that desk,

and who better, Bennet?

These streets are your marrow.

Abberline comes here today.

He inquires about the killing of Buckley.

Bennet, we spoke of this.

Abberline may once have coppered here,

but this day, he comes as Yard.

With the inspector still absent

with no word, we have a duty to him.

The inspector would say it is
our duty to do what's right.

And so it is,

and what is right is to protect
the inspector's good name.

The girl.

His little Matilda.

Should we exhume,

bury her proper-like?

If the inspector returns,

it is a choice for him.

While the choice is mine,

the dead shall have their peace.

Inspector, thank you for coming so swiftly.

Ain't just Inspector.

It's Head of Division,
ain't that right, Benneto?

Sir.

Hail to the chief.

What happened?

We got ourselves a dead clairvoyant.

Never saw it coming.

Oh, William.

- William.
- Mrs. Wakefield.

Le Cheyne here was channeling the spirit

of her dearly departed when he dropped.

Scared her shitless. I had to dope her.

William was here.

I... I felt him.

I saw a...

I saw his light.

It was the light of his love.

He was killed.

The train crash, she said.

I'll have a constable show
you home, Mrs. Wakefield.

He was a spirit-worker, all right.

And this here...

That's your light of love.

Oil of phosphorus.

Don't touch that.

It's a nice grift you boys got going.

Grift, sir?

Who's this?

Sidekick.

Partner and apprentice to Mr. Le Cheyne.

Ezra Marvell, sir.

He says Le Cheyne here was fit as a horse.

It is no malady of the body but his gift

which today lays him low

and snuffs from the
world a light so bright.

Mr. Wakefield perished in
the locomotive disaster.

His spirit is agonized.

Mrs. Wakefield had become a regular client,

sought to soothe her husband,
to guide him toward peace.

Mr. Le Cheyne

communed with William,

but also,

with his pain.

But it was too much even

for this great man to bear.

Well, he was in shape.

At least he was. If I was a
gambling man, I'd bet on poison,

and I am a gambling man.

Then let's get him to the dead room.

Why don't we just ask Merlin
here to powwow with his spirit?

- Sir, do not make light.
- Did Mr. Le Cheyne

make enemies in his line
of work? Did he, sir?

Anyone who might come
to doubt the honor of it?

Doubt, sir?

There is none.

Who's the girl?

Mr. Le Cheyne and I kept affairs
beyond our work for ourselves.

Wait a minute. I know her.

Edgar, take a look at this.

Yes.

Yes, that's one of our ballet girls. Um...

Ah... Juniper, I believe. Juniper Kohl.

Is she here?

She was rehearsing this morning.

Some of the girls

pour pints at the Ten Bells
for a little extra coin.

Thank you, Miss Morton.

Now, we may be talking again, Mr. Marvell.

Drake, just a moment.

Any word of Reid?

Abberline comes today to inquire.

My autopsy report's been sewn up,

so until then, you just
keep your powder dry, okay?

And, ah, Drake...

Reid stays gone, there
are worse men for the job,

if you know what I'm saying.

I'd like you to stay backstage.

- How is he?
- Yeah, full of chuckles.

Uneasy lies the head, darling.

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.

I'm looking for a girl named Juniper.

- Told she works here.
- Oh.

You set my ears afire, sir.

What will you be drinking?

He was a good man, Alexander.

But it was difficult with...

with Ezra.

Were you...

stepping out with Ezra Marvell, too?

Ezra and I...

in the past, that is, we...

then I met Alexander Le Cheyne.

Mr. Marvell gave out he didn't know you.

It was difficult for Ezra.

He felt like Alexander
had all of the limelight,

that he was always waiting in shadow,

no more than a sidekick.

And then Alexander had me, too.

Ezra would tell people

I got on my back to get ahead.

Called me a whore in a tutu. He was...

jealous, Inspector,

and bitter.

How jealous, do you think?

Threatened him once.

When Alexander and I first...

he said he'd destroy him.

I mean, just words, but...

But they carried on working together?

Well, they needed each other.

They shook hands in the end,
but it was never the same.

And now...

all of Alexander's methods,

his clients...

Ezra's alone.

Thank you.

Thank you, Miss Kohl. You've, uh...

You've been very helpful.

Le Cheyne has damage to the
esophagus, hemorrhage in the stomach.

He's pink there and there.

Oxyhaemoglobin...

Poison then?

But which?

His insides, sir.

There's a whiff.

You don't say.

Like... almonds.

Bitter almonds.

Get me paper, sodium
bicarbonate and picric acid.

The inspector requires you, boy.

Good day, ma'am. Sir.

Good day.

It isn't right...

All these people, all with
love for their lost ones...

And swings like Marvell
ringing 'em dry for it.

Forgive me, sir, just...

It isn't right.

Come in.

Calm your thoughts.

What is the meaning of this?

You tell us, Mr. Marvell.

You're the psychic.

This is a place of solace,

where spirits may find welcome. You, sir,

may find none.

Some might think it cold,

straight to work,

not a moment in grief.

You dare lecture me on
the manner of my sorrow?

If you knew the slightest of my work,

you would know that the dead are not dead.

And what work you must have, sir.

That train laying to waste,

Mr. Le Cheyne now departed,

and you free to take over his business.

- For writing on the slate.
- Leave that, boy!

You go right ahead, Constable.

"Oil of phosphorus,

ectoplasm."

Soapy water and egg white.

Get out.

There are people beyond, good people,

in need of comfort.

Yes, Mr. Marvell,

there are.

Ezra Marvell,

you are under arrest on suspicion of fraud.

When you're right, you're right.

They're both in the archive,
Le Cheyne and Marvell.

Mr. Reid had them both
there for spiritualists.

Alexander Le Cheyne.

Born Donald Gribbon.

And died of prussic acid.

Hydrogen cyanide in his hip flask.

- Grace, fetch Mr. Marvell!
- Oh, you're welcome!

This is absurd!

I could never kill Alex. He was my... my...

Your friend,

Mr. Marvell?

Whose success you envied?

Who stole your girl?

Whom you told you'd destroy?

Juniper.

Ah.

You said you didn't know her.

I said Alex and I kept our lives separate,

and she's why.

Juniper Kohl plays a man

like a marionette.

I am guilty...

of being that harlot's fool.

What is Barnum's parlance...

a sucker, sir? I may be a sucker,

but I am no murderer.

She said you were bitter.

Not as bitter as Alexander was.

Juniper slid her pretty
fingers deep into him

and tore out his heart.

I doubt she mentioned that.

Nor how they fought like street cats.

Fought?

Why?

Juniper intends to go to Paris,

launch herself upon the music halls.

Alexander could not bear it.

To lose her for good?

He swore he'd never allow it,

that he knew how to stop it.

You're very well informed

for two men who kept their lives separate.

Well, he became vocal in his rage,

and he was not overly blessed with friends.

And what was it he knew that would

keep Juniper in London?

There were limits to his confidence.

But if you seek someone
with blood hot enough

and a heart cold enough to murder a man,

you ought to peer past
Juniper Kohl's pretty mask.

Why should I believe you, Mr. Marvell?

That's not even your name, is it?

Tom Wallace?

You ruined me today.

I did no more than expose your fraud.

Alex and I only offered the illusion

that all of us crave most.

This world is not so cruel as
it would appear to our love,

to our permanence, and not so

coldly bare of magic.

Would you not sooner
believe that what is lost

might return?

So many looking glasses.

That one was a gift.

Who from?

Someone I loved

long ago.

And turn again, please.

Alice?

Look.

Come here.

And look.

There's so many of us.

I like looking at us.

I like it, too.

You're so pretty, Miss Susan.

When my wings grow, and I fly away.

I shall always come back to visit you.

We can look at ourselves like this.

I hope you won't fly
away just yet, little one.

Oh, Chief... Chief Inspector.

Sergeant.

Your inspector is required.

Well, he is currently indisposed, sir.

I said he is required.

There are matters needful,

Inspector Drake.

Buckley attacked.

He was uncontrollable.

Used a knife as a weapon.

Mr. Reid defended himself,

as any of us would.

In my day,

Edmund Reid was no such
bedfellow with ways of violence.

Begging your pardon, sir, but

it has not been your day for some years.

Buckley's autopsy report by your American.

"Fracture of the cervical spine."

Snapped his neck in the affray.

Instantaneous death.

Nothing to be done.

Nothing to be done.

Although there are some
folks in this quarter,

claim to have seen Inspector Reid

attack Mr. Buckley unprovoked

in his own shop

Saw him come out, bloody like a butcher...

fists like raw leather...

before he fled

to parts unknown.

I was there. I...

I told you what I saw.

I ask you this now

with my notebook...

closed.

Give me the truth of it.

I have already done so.

Switzerland.

I'm assured the school is excellent.

She'll receive the very
finest education and treatment

from doctors of the mind,
leaders in their field.

We shall channel funds into a trust.

Untraceable, of course.

The girl shall have every opportunity.

You must understand she cannot remain here.

She's not ready.

Miss Hart,

you broke Edmund Reid,

but you did not kill him.

He's not without friends in these parts.

Wherever Reid is,

should he ever discover
the fiction fed to him...

We do right by the girl

to the extent we may,

but she must remain dead to her father

and everyone in Whitechapel

for the rest of his days.

Captain Jackson's with her.

She came in demanding to
see the spiritualist Marvell,

raving about Mr. Wakefield, his ghost, sir.

In his shop.

Refused my laudanum. More full-tour.

I do not wish to be tranquilized.

I wish for my dear husband to find peace.

- Mrs. Wakefield...
- Mr. Le Cheyne warned me, Inspector.

If I did not continue to comfort William,

his pain would worsen, his
spirit would grow angry.

Tell me what you saw.

Mr. Le Cheyne always required
something of William's to...

to sense his spirit.

I would take William's tools.

I took them from his studio yesterday.

Went to place them back today, and...

he had been there.

I know it.

Pardon me, ma'am.

Those are some knives you've got there.

What line of work was Mr. Wakefield in?

A preserver, sir.

A preserver?

Taxidermy.

Yes. Hmm.

William has been in my dreams

night after night

since the locomotive
catastrophe took him from me.

He is in unrest.

The force of his spirit
took Mr. Le Cheyne today.

Mr. Le Cheyne was poisoned, Mrs. Wakefield,

and Mr. Marvell is in
my cells for defrauding.

- I have had a visitation.
- Drake.

Le Cheyne is killed
with prussic acid, right?

William's an animal stuffer.

Guess what they use to kill bugs.

Prussic goddamn acid.

Now,

could be nothing, but could be

Mrs. Wakefield here has a moment of clarity

and sees through Le Cheyne, twigs that
he took some money for some hocus-pocus,

decides to settle the score.

Then why come here with the ghost story?

Putting us on to throw us off. Who knows?

Everything about this case,
up is down, black is white,

in is out, everyone playing a goddamn part.

I mean, who knows, Benneto?

Mrs. Wakefield, would you show us where the

visitation took place?

Drake, look at this.

No, it's not about what's
here. It's about what's missing.

And here it is.

Couple weeks back, he
restocked his supplies.

Prussic acid.

Guess what's not here.

Ezra Marvell would have known

he was an animal preserver,

a dead one with a poison cabinet.

Mrs. Wakefield?

What else was moved?

This chest.

Those things were atop it to conceal it.

Anything valuable in there?

No.

Business matters.

Old ledgers.

A little spare money.

- There's none in there now.
- Yes...

But there is... a few pounds at least.

I... I took some to pay Mr. Le Cheyne,

but there... there's...

Then someone else has took it.

Ghosts haven't any use
for coin, Mrs. Wakefield.

This place hasn't been haunted.

It's been burgled.

- But the door.
- The lock could have been picked.

Then, um...

Then it... it was not him.

I miss him.

I miss him so terribly.

Where you stand, sir...

William stood in... in that very
place the last time I saw him.

His beautiful face.

When they found him, the...

The accident had destroyed him.

Beyond all...

these...

He had such a gift.

He used to call it a...

a blessing.

A power

to snatch back from
death something of life,

something of beauty

that could not die.

Diamonds from ashes,

he said.

Did Mr. Wakefield enjoy the music halls?

Blewett's Pavilion and
Varieties, for instance?

Did he spend any time there?

William sometimes liked to
take in a song after work.

He promised to take me to
the music halls in Paris.

- In Paris?
- Hmm? Um, the...

The... the Olympia.

The Moulin Rouge.

He would read to me about them.

All right, so maybe it's the widow.

Maybe Marvell comes back for the poison,

decides to help himself to
a little scratch on the side.

What I'd like to know

is what you took from there.

I'll be damned.

So much for Mrs.
Wakefield's saintly husband.

Look away, son. Be not
corrupted by this devilish filth.

That little minx sure
gets around, don't she?

- It's her, isn't it?
- Oh, that's her, all right.

Blewett's own Juniper Kohl.

One night, a fellow comes here,

asked to use his camera.

Had no money for a bed,

not a ha'penny, and he offered a crown.

A crown.

But it wasn't no William Wakefield.

It weren't that is he...

He must have bought these... or...

So you never knew a Wakefield, then?

No, sir.

He was a lover of Paris also.

Sir?

Paris.

You plan to live there, don't you?

Work the music halls.

Is that illegal?

No.

But Mr. Le Cheyne wasn't
happy about it, was he?

He was all set to stop you.

Said he knew how.

What was it he knew, Miss?

Was it worth killing for?

I heard you arrested Ezra
for killing poor Alexander.

We arrested Ezra Marvell for fraud.

Then you should know better than
to believe a word he tells you.

Miss Kohl, you will drop your mask with me

or you shall end up
pirouetting in leg irons.

William took the photographs.

An affair?

Does his...

his wife know about...

His wife is grieving.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry for her.

William was...

It was...

wrong,

some would say.

But what is life without passion, sir?

I... I do wish to travel. I always have.

Alexander did not like it, but...

to think that I might...

That I could kill him?

Is it so hard to understand that

someone might want to leave this
place behind and start again?

May I take these, sir,

and destroy them?

No, Miss Kohl, you may not.

Inspector.

- Mr. Morton.
- Would you join us later,

when Rose takes the stage?

You'd be most welcome.

That's very kind of you, sir,

but sadly, I have other plans.

Very well. Another time.

Thank you, sir.

Mountains, cool streams,

green fields filled with flowers.

Jasmines, forget-me-nots.

Doesn't that sound a good
place for a little fairy?

No, thank you.

I like it here.

Here, Alice. Drink it up, girl.

Sleep now.

Miss Susan?

Hmm?

You're the queen of here, are you not?

Yes, I am.

I thought every queen had a king.

Where is your king?

The child makes progress.

Day by day.

In time, perhaps

her fractures of the mind may

heal.

Or they may be split afresh if she is

torn from the safety of this place, um.

Swiss *** patch and robbed
of my care and treatment.

That is enough, Doctor Frayn.

You have duties at the clinic.

Attend to them.

Front page, Mr. Best.

Here's a telegram for you.

_

_

You did right, Ben.

By Mister Reid, and by the division.

You did the honorable thing.

There is no honor in a lie, Donald.

Well, we both know the
world ain't that simple.

The job though, will you take it?

There is a darkness in
this place, my friend.

An abyss, Mister Reid called it.

An it can take from a man,
all he holds in his heart.

As long as he walks these streets,

it will shortly find him, and swallow him.

I don't pretend to know
too much about that.

Except, we do our best
to walk through the fire,

holding on to whatever scraps of it we can.

you,

Bennet Drake, know more than most.

And you of all men, may yet
make out of this life, a life.

Come on. One more.

You were impressive today, sir.

With poor Mr. Le Cheyne.

And Rose tells me you work for
the police, some years past.

Uh, "with", not "for".

Now that Reid's gone to God knows where,

I guess that arrangement's
gone the way of all flesh.

So, uh...

you'll be concentrating
on your doctor's practice?

- Uh...
- Because

were you interested in expansion,

my father could be a, er,

sympathetic investor.

Alongside Blewitt', he's ploughing
funds into half of Whitehapel.

- You shittin' me?
- No, I'm not.

Uh, shitting you.

The man doesn't even know me.

But he'd be delighted to.

He's been well-briefed.

I'm trying to persuade
her to sing at the wedding.

- She doesn't want to?
- Well, I imagined her on a gazebo,

flamingoes all around.

But Rose feels it's a little de trop.

How austere of her.

♪ There is a tavern in the town ♪

♪ that's where ♪

♪ my true love sits him down ♪

♪ and drinks his wine ♪

♪ 'mid laughter free ♪

♪ and never ♪

♪ never thinks of me ♪

♪ he left me for a damsel dark ♪

♪ each Friday night ♪

♪ they used to spark ♪

♪ and now my love ♪

♪ once true to me ♪

♪ takes that damsel ♪

♪ on his knee ♪

♪ fare thee well ♪

♪ for we must leave you ♪

♪ do not let the parting grieve you ♪

♪ for remember that
the best of friends ♪

♪ must part ♪

♪ Adieu, adieu kind friends, adieu ♪

♪ We can no longer stay with you, ♪

♪ We must hang our harps on
the weeping willow tree, ♪

♪ And may the world go well with thee ♪

♪ oh, dig my grave ♪

♪ both wide and deep ♪

♪ with tombstones ♪

♪ at my head and feet ♪

♪ and above my head ♪

♪ you can carve a turtledove ♪

♪ to signify I died of love ♪

♪ fare thee well ♪

♪ for we must leave you ♪

♪ do not let the parting grieve you ♪

♪ for remember that ♪

♪ the best of friends must part ♪

♪ adieu ♪

♪ adieu, kind friends, adieu ♪

♪ we can no longer ♪

♪ stay with you ♪

♪ we must hang our harps ♪

♪ on a weeping willow tree ♪

♪ adieu ♪

♪ adieu, adieu ♪

♪ adieu ♪

Uh...

Excuse the hour.

You left so soon, I...

I brought some supper.

Oh.

The supper and I are both getting cold.

Yes, forgive me, Rose.

Come in.

Here, I'll... get you some room.

No plates?

Rose, it's late.

I don't think Mr. Morton would

care for you calling
on a fellow with a chop.

Mr. Morton's not my keeper.

He is your intended, Rose.

It ain't champagne and
lark tongues, Bennet. Just

eat the bloody food.

I don't know if I should...

congratulate you.

The promotion.

I've not yet accepted.

I know he was...

is your friend, Bennet,

but if the inspector is gone,

what better man to keep Whitechapel safe?

So people keep asking.

And what does that tell you?

Four years I coppered Manchester, Rose.

I started again.

Constable Drake.

I tried to police,

to live, as a good man,

to make myself new,

and I started to know promise again,

to know hope.

It was hope I thought I'd
bring back with me here.

See what I brought instead?

Everything falls apart.

- You cannot blame yourself.
- No, Rose, I...

I should have stayed away.

I did not make myself new.

I brought a curse to a cursed place.

And I...

the very train what brought me here was...

I have nothing to give Whitechapel, Rose,

and Whitechapel has nothing for no man.

It is a place where good and
precious things are broken

and hope is made a phantom.

You're wrong.

There is something good and precious here

which is not broken,

which cannot be.

No, Rose.

No, girl, listen.

You are to be married.

And I...

the villainy I wade through,

my daily toil,

it is lies

and treachery and ruined hearts,

and I would see you
protected from that, Rose.

I would see you kept safe from
the sad havoc of this world.

- I will not bring my ruin upon you.
- You do not bring ruin!

You bring hope.

You are naught but hope and life.

You saved me,

first time I ever laid eyes on you.

That's who you are to me,

who you'll always be.

Mortuary records, sir.

What Mrs. Wakefield said about her husband,

she was not exaggerating.

The record says the whole
of him was burnt meat.

She only knew him by his pocket watch.

There was this fellow
up in Manchester once.

Made like he'd fallen off a boat,

washed away in the canals,

and his missus leaves town,

we find them both living
it up in Altrincham

on his life insurance.

So you're thinking, sir, that Wakefield,

he faked it,

planted his watch on some poor bugger

to be with the dancer,
sir, to be with miss Kohl?

Well, why kill Le Cheyne?

Ezra Marvell said Le
Cheyne wanted Juniper back,

said he knew something that
would wreck her plans of leaving.

If Wakefield lives, if this is fraud,

maybe Le Cheyne found out.

I'll see about brokers,

see if Wakefield took a policy.

Calm yourself, darling.

Juney.

Where have you been all night?

- Wherever I please.
- I was right sick.

Maybe you should worry
about leaving your photograph

- for the bloody police to grope at.
- The police?

- You said you destroyed them, William.
- I...

- There was no time.
- You went back for the poison.

I wasn't thinking.

I... I'm not a professional at this, Juney.

Oh, I thought that's exactly what you were.

You tell all the girls you
conjure diamonds out of ashes.

We should have done this as we planned.

Cover ourselves, left no trail.

I was a bloody fool to
think the train would...

- That we'd be able to...
- It was to perfect to chance.

The police?

- What did they...
- Nothing.

A copper sniffed about,
so I gave him a show.

I got rid of the poison yesterday,

and they got Ezra banged up for it.

Do the police...

Does Olivia know about...

the pictures?

No.

Jesus, though.

What have we done,
Juney? What have we done?

And one more day in this room,

I'll lose my bloody mind.

You're nearly there.

Alexander is gone.

The insurance pays out today.

Paris, my love, our lives

in lights.

We just need to hold on.

Captain Homer fucking Jackson.

Jesus! God!

I swear to God, darling,
whosoever has the strength to

pull me out of you, should be
named the true king of all England.

Vulgarian!

And then some.

You know what Edgar was saying last night,

about my father...

He would like to meet you.

Christ, what's next?

Song of Solomon?

Look, Mimi, I didn't mean...

I don't...

Need a minute, goddammit!

You don't... what, Doctor Jackson?

Son of a bitch.

You don't need a doctor by the
time I get there, you will in a...

Captain Jackson, I believe
this was surgery hours.

I hope the moment is not

inopportune.

Is there any word of Inspector Reid?

Now you see, I thought
this was friendly visit.

- You been petitioned again, Miss Hart?
- Hm.

Wherever Reid is, he ain't sent a postcard.

That man has every reason
to run and never turn back.

Starting to think that
ain't such a bad idea myself.

Haven't you had your fill of running?

Okay, is this what we're going to do now?

You're going to stop by, we're gonna take
our turn, you're gonna ask your questions,

and then what, we all just go home?

It isn't what we dreamt of, is it?

Back in Chicago.

Nothing's what you're dreaming,
that's why they call 'em dreams.

What does Ms. Morton make
of your charming optimism?

Give it a few days at most, then she'll be
spitting my name and pickin' new suitors.

- She seems taken with you.
- That mean she likes me.

Her brother likes me, her old man likes me,

hasn't even met me. I mean, shit,
it's because he hasn't met me.

Falling in love with her, aren't you?

What?

I've seen that look on you before.

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come.

Why did you come?

Go back to her, Captain Jackson.

- Goddammit Caitlin.
- I don't even know who that is.

Go back to Ms. Morton, stop running.

- Go home.
- Susan...

Wakefield took life
insurance two months past.

The beneficiary, sir.

There she is.

The solicitor said a man had
been nosing about Wakefield,

said he promised to
bring evidence of fraud.

- Give a name?
- Gribbon, Donald Gribbon.

- Le Cheyne's real name.
- He knew.

That's what he knew.
That's why they killed him.

- When's the insurance pay out?
- Pays today. Miss Kohl to collect.

I want her and Wakefield
for fraud and murder.

- The snide we used to roust Obsidian's dues.
- The counterfeit.

Get all of it, see the lawyer pays with it.

You stay on Juniper Kohl.

She'll lead us to Wakefield.

Oh, Grace?

Send a constable for
Mrs. Wakefield, will you?

But I am his...

his wife.

Why would he...

Why?

He told me those days were over.

The days of following his prick.

And now even in death he betrays me.

Where was she, this... this

Juniper Kohl and the rest of his whores

when I stood in the rain

and watched dirt shovelled on him?

When I had to look upon what

remained of him.

I made him this gift

on our wedding day.

At the end...

it was all I knew him by.

The inscription, sir.

I thought to keep it with me,

close to my heart.

You must think me a stupid, stupid woman.

I do no such thing.

Inspector,

may I ask of you once more benevolence?

My husband is dead,

but I would know his account.

Will you permit me to
speak with Ezra Marvell?

Mrs. Wakefield.

Is it true?

Mr. Marvell?

What they say of you,

that you're...

- Have you, too, deceived me?
- No,

madame, no.

My gifts are as were Mr. Le Cheyne's...

a blessing

too special

to be comprehended by all.

You see, I...

I need to ask my husband.

You must help me communicate with him.

I do not wish to guide him to peace.

I wish to ask of him the truth.

I must know who she is.

She?

Who, madame?

His whore.

Who is this...

Juniper Kohl?

Will you help me?

Mrs. Wakefield, I...

... I cannot.

My powers are...

What you've heard of me is the truth,

perhaps the sole truth of Ezra Marvell.

I am Tom Wallace.

I'm no more than a fairground conjurer.

All I may offer you

is the opportunity to

ask your questions directly

to Juniper Kohl herself.

You...

You know her?

Once.

Enough to know where she was
most fond to take her men.

Everything is arranged.

Carriage to the docks,

first class aboard the steamer...

then our hands are clean.

Clean?

Is that what you believe?

They're clean enough to
exchange those bearer bonds.

What is that girl doing
out of her quarters?

I want to stay here.

I don't want to go on a ship.

- I won't!
- Alice.

She stays in her quarters.
Is that understood?

I beg your pardon, sir.

Miss Susan?

Your visitor.

Juney, tell me we did it!

Olivia.

Oh!

My darling.

You...

This...

Is not what it appears.

Olivia...

My darling, my...

Olivia...

Oh...

My... my love.

Bonjour!

Look what I've got.

I care for Edgar.

He's a decent man, but

Bennet, he...

he owns a piece of me, Miss Susan.

He always has.

But I...

I can't help but wonder if I should...

My father wanted me to
marry a man named Jared King.

Heir to a mining fortune.

Also a decent man.

But I chose a penniless Pinkerton.

Bennet is...

He's not the captain.

No.

No, he's not.

But do you...

But before now, that is,

did you regret it?

My dear Rose,

the regrets I have accrued in this life

could fill all the oceans twice over,

but that?

Him?

The captain...

Not one single moment.

That's gonna itch like
hell for a couple days,

but that's mother
nature's way of telling you

not to put it there.

Next.

I shall refrain from dropping my smalls.

Look, if you're here for dirt on Reid...

I come on no such business.

All right, Best,

what is it that ails you?

A sickness.

Oh?

- You vomiting, or...
- A sickness in the hearts

of Whitechapel, Captain Jackson.

You know, you should know
my scalpels are very sharp.

The Leman Street locomotive tragedy.

55 souls killed...

- And five men hanged for it.
- Five pawns hanged, five pawns,

and you know what they took
or for whom they took it?

What of it?

The seat cabin they cleaned
out. It carried bearer bonds,

- American dollars.
- Yeah, this is all known news, Best.

Why don't you just give
me the goddamn headline,

for Christ sakes, huh?

Why are you bringing this to me?

What, do you not see, Captain?

The name of the addressee
is clearly marked.

He whose anonymous securities were robbed,

he who still the police
no wiser now continues

to ship such spoils into London.

Have you really forgot what the
name Theodore Patrick Swift means?

Or does the thought of
your father-in-law's coin

getting burgled in such close
proximity to his daughter,

your wife,

not raise one mote

of suspicion in you?

His estranged daughter
and my estranged wife,

in case you've forgotten.

What exactly are you implying?
You think, what, Susan

was involved in this?

It is a...

startling coincidence, is it not?

It's conjecture, and you're
out of your goddamn mind.

I'm not saying it is so. I'm
merely asking you the question.

You...

you once enjoyed such intimacy
with the lady's ways and doings.

You need to get out of my surgery

while you still have one ear.

Not saying, Captain.

Asking.

Come! Alice!

I need to see Bennet Drake!

Rose!

I've seen her.

- What do you...
- The girl.

Whoa, whoa!

Step aside!

Excuse me, step aside!

Get out of the car!

Alice!

Alice.

Alice!

Alice!

Alice!

Alice!

Alice!

Alice!

Mr. Reid, sir.

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