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- Soon, my love.

Relax.

This is the last one.

Now you can come back to me.

- William Colcott!

Put that down.

- The condemned are
about to walk the gates.

Philip.

- Are you afraid, boy?

- Keep your mouth shut.

- The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.

- Save your words, priest.

- I won't tell you again.

- You reek of fear, man of God.

- Show some bloody respect.

Special day, this one, William.

Very special.

You should feel honored.

You ain't getting the rope.
You're getting something new.

- Today, here at Bishopsgate,

we are honored to be the
first British facility

to pioneer the latest in
modern execution practices

from across the Atlantic,
the electric chair.

- I expected more of a crowd
for a man as famous as me.

- Well, that's why this
is a private sendoff.

- Now, William, you give
my regards to the Devil

when you get where you're going.

- William Colcott,

you have been found guilty
of the murders of 28 women.

- Fuck them.

And fuck all of you.

- You accept your fate in
the same disgusting manner

you subjected your
victims to theirs.

This world shall
be well rid of you.

Electricity shall pass through
your body until you are dead.

If you have any last words,
we should hear them now.

May God have mercy on your soul.

- God can't have my soul.

- And so ends the
life of William-

Well, the successful first
execution for the chair.

- I'd hardly call that
successful, Governor.

- William Colcott is dead.

- Is the machine designed to
make him suffer like that?

Dropping from a rope
does seem faster.

- William Colcott is dead.

The machine did what the
machine was supposed to do,

and that is all.

- Lovely, Mr. Leyton.

If you could just hold
still, we're nearly finished.

Thank you.

Lovely.

- Mr. Leyton, you will
have the photograph

by the end of the week.

And it goes without saying,

you have our
deepest condolences.

- Thank you.

- What's next?

- Bishopgate Prison.

- A prisoner?

- Mm-hm.

Must have been a notorious one

to merit a postmortem
photograph,

and after that, the most
important evening of our lives.

Right, you pack up, I'll
deal with the undertakers.

Gentlemen!

Gentlemen, you may come in.

Do keep up!

Can't keep
the dead waiting, eh?

Remember, you never
get a second chance.

- At a first impression. I know.

- Today is going
to be a marvelous day,

I may say.

Ladbroke Photographers.
We're expected.

- What was
the name again?

- Frederick Ladbroke,
postmortem photographer,

and my associate, Emma Wicks.

- Oh. You're the corpse people.

Shut the door.

This is no place
for a young lady,

especially one
dressed like that.

- Ms. Wicks here-

- I'm a photographer and
lead device technician,

and I'm more than capable, sir.

- Perfect timing
for once, George.

Show the corpse people
to the morgue, will you?

- We are postmortem
photographers,
not corpse people.

- Oh, so sorry.

George, search the
corpse photographers

and shown 'em to the
morgue, will you?

- Is it just dead people
you take pictures of

or do you do living
people as well?

- Well, we are essentially
postmortem photographers.

We like to say that
it is not smiles

that we capture, but souls.

- Bit of a grim job.

- Look who's talking.

- Emma,
do come along.

- Are they all
murderers in here?

- Mostly.

All set for the chair
for one thing or another.

That's why they're still here.

- You mean the rope?

- No, the electric chair.

We've been chosen to test a
new electric chair from America

before they take it up
the road to Pentonville.

- Execution by electrocution,
eh? That's bold.

- It's quick. Too
quick if you ask me.

Should make the bastards suffer.

I'm surprised they
chose us to test it.

The governor was well
chuffed about it, though.

It used to be a bigger jail,
but there's rot in the walls.

Had to stop using most of
the place, it got so bad.

They said it wasn't
good to breathe it in.

A couple of the guards
got consumption.

- Only 30 cells left,
most of them empty.

Just a few prisoners
for us to worry about.

- What's this black mark?

- The bastard
was rotten is all.

- Who
was this fellow?

- William Colcott.

Killed a lot of people.

Papers say it could
have been nearly 28.

- 28?

- Police said he was
carving up some poor lass

when they caught him.

The worst part?

His wife's rotten
corpse was laid out

in the middle of it all.

She'd been dead some time.

God knows what he
was up to with her.

- Hm, charming fellow.

Set the camera up
for me, would you?

Very good.

- The old man
always take you along

on these things?

- Uh, he's my uncle.

- I can't say it's a
place for a young lady.

- You've gone quite
pale. Are you all right?

- Uh, yes. I just need to
step outside for a moment.

Um, the camera's ready.

- Very good.

Very good.

Now, Mr. Colcott, I want you
to remain perfectly still.

I have packed us up.

You all right?

You're not yourself, are you?

- Yes, Uncle.

I just needed to
catch my breath.

- Well, I don't blame
you. Awful place.

But now, from morgue to mansion.

Okay?

- Yes.
- Yeah.

Lots of preparation to do.

Come on.

Is there a life after death?

Is there an invisible
world that surrounds us?

Now these days, those questions
are mainly being asked

by intrepid explorers
like yourselves,

the members of the
Paranormal Society.

Science, well, science
has given us some clues

that you may be right.

I mean, you think of William
Herschel, for instance,

who discovered in the
ordinary spectrum of light

that there were
invisible wavelengths.

He found the infrared.

The following year the
Germans found the ultraviolet.

There are hints there,

but has science
given you the tools

for your continuing
examinations?

The answer is no.

Until now.

Gentlemen,

I give you the Atmosizer.

- Using cutting edge science,

we will demonstrate how
our device will not only

call upon spirits from
the invisible ether,

but attract them to the
very machine itself.

- You see, I hypothesize that
spirits are a form of energy,

much like light itself,

but they are confined to
a very narrow wavelength.

Now the science shows that
energy is attracted to energy,

so when we pass electrical
energy through this machine

and temporarily store it,
we create a magnetic field,

and that in turn
electrifies the atmosphere,

thinning the veils

that separate the wavelengths,

thus enabling the
spirits to move.

In other words, gentlemen,

this machine can bring
the spirits to you.

- We've just seen a
man with a planchette

and a board with letters on it.

He claims it can be
used to communicate

with spirits as well.

I must say it looks
a lot simpler.

What was it called?

- A Ouija board.

- With the greatest
respect, gentlemen,

that is a board game
for children, sir.

This is cutting edge science.

This will make possible
the greatest discoveries

of modern science.

- That's quite a claim.

If I wished to
communicate with a spirit,

how would I do it?

- Oh, well, let
us show you, sir.

First of all we
use the Atmosizer

to electrify the atmosphere.

Then we use this very
special recording device.

- It is our version of
a wax cylinder recorder.

It can pick up very
high frequencies.

In short, it hears
things our ears can't.

You ask the spirit
your questions,

replies are recorded and
played back almost immediately.

- We call it electrical
voice phenomena, or EVP.

You understand, gentlemen,
what we are offering you here?

You will be able to verify that
there is a life after death.

We are giving you a means
of attracting spirits

and communicating to them
consistently, verifiably,

and it turns this society
into, with due respect,

something more than the
accumulation of whispers,

stories,

into the very forefront
of modern science.

- What led you to
the theory that

spirits are attracted
to electricity?

- Ah, well,

I noticed that
static electricity

is documented in
several investigations

where there may have
been a spirit present.

- And were these
your investigations?

- Oh, no, no, no, no.

Not mine at all, no.

- I thought not.

- Uncle?

- Wait, wait, wait.
Wait a minute, sir.

This machine is
grounded in science.

We're on the verge of a
field test, and all we need

is the right opportunity.

- Is this what you
do for a living?

- We own Ladbroke Photography,

and it pays the bills
and enables us to fulfill

our true vocations as
scientists and inventors.

- Back to the drawing board, eh?

- Good effort all the same.

Next time perhaps a
little more testing

before you call us again.

- I tried to tell you.

- Pack the damned thing up.

- It just needs a few
tweaks. We can try again.

- Emma, you never get a second
chance at a first impression.

I think I'm going
to get a drink,

and maybe more than one.

- What's
in the bag there?

- Stop bothering the punters.

- Broken dreams,
just broken dreams.

- Spit it off then. It's not
something strange, is it?

- Sir, I'm a photographer,
and in the bag

there are parts for a
camera that does not work.

- Ah, good.

I thought you might be
one of the ghost men.

- Ghost men?

- Strange folk they are,
but they spend good money.

Must know we have some of
the best spirits in the city.

- Good,
good, very good.

- That's them there.

- What was it you
called that thing?

- Oh. Your companion is inside.

- Yeah, yeah.

The machine, what'd you call it?

- The Atmosizer.

- Terrible name.

You'll have to change it.

If you ever get it
working, that is.

- It does work! It was
just a little fault!

- I'm still trying to
decide what you are.

- Sorry?

- You're either a genius who
just doesn't quite realize

the full potential of your idea,

or you're a conman

trying to pedal your
sham inventions around

for profit and fame.

- My niece and I are not conmen,

we are scientists trying to
prove the greatest truth of all,

that there is a
life after death!

- Hold on.

You get that thing working,

you get proof of it
actually being useful,

you come see us again.

Until then, don't
quit your day job.

- Uncle.

- Leave the thing alone

before it burns the house down.

Emma,

I can no longer let
you waste your life

the way I have wasted mine.

- You haven't wasted anything.

This is our life's work.

- Yes, a waste of
time, a waste of life,

a waste of the little
inheritance that we have.

Now I know that
when you were little

I promised you that if
we worked hard together

and followed in the footsteps
of the giants like Newton,

perhaps one day our
names would be up there

on the pantheon of greatness,

but the future arrived,

and I see Westinghouse,
Edison, Tesla,

and I know in my heart of hearts

there will never be a Ladbroke,

and as long as I hold you back,

there won't be a Wicks either.

- There will be.

I've nearly removed all the
burnt parts from the machine

if you want to take a look.
- No, no, no, Emma.

No.

It's time to reside
this foolish dream.

- It's not foolish.

- You awake in there, Shorty?

What are you doing down there?

- Please just kill me now.

Don't let him take me.

- Patience, boy.

This time tomorrow
you'll be dead.

That shiny new chair's
all ready for you.

- Maybe the main
coil overheated.

- Emma, just...

Just concentrate on what
you are doing, please.

Right now we need to focus
on what we can do well

and find some way of paying
off some of these bills.

- Uncle?

- Emma!

- Uncle, look at this.

- Oh, it's a double exposure.
Just print it up again.

I can hear your anger.

Your mother used to look
at me exactly that way

when she was mad at me.

I do apologize.

I was wrong, I beg your pardon.

She was like you.

She was tenacious,
never gave up,

even when the
cause was hopeless.

- Am I much like her?

- Oh, yes. In every way.

From the moment she was born,

we just knew there was
something special about her.

And the moment you were born,
we saw exactly the same thing.

It's probably a fault
with the camera by the way.

Better clean it up
and go to the governor

and see if we can get
a piece of penny or two

for the job we did yesterday.

- No, uncle.

- Hm?
- Look at this.

It can't be the camera.
I've checked it.

There's no dust or
fungus on the lens.

- Is there anything like this
on any of the other pictures?

- No.

- My god.

My god, this is it!

Pack up!

Pack everything we need,
everything, everything up.

Everything.
- For what?

- A field test.

We're going to have
an opportunity to show

that we are right.

- This is it, um, okay.

Um, I removed most of
those scorched bits,

but I still don't know
why it blew like that.

- Well, I think I do.

The machine...

The machine needs something
to store more energy with it.

It's actually
producing more power

than it can handle
at the moment.

I think if we use bigger
coils, it may help.

Now, first of all, I'll
go to the governor,

and I will explain to him,

"Governor, we need to
retake the photographs,"

which in a way is
of course true.

- Do you think
they've seen anything?

- No, I don't think they have.

This is probably what they
call a passive manifestation.

Nobody would notice anything

unless they were
actually looking for it,

but you, you realize
what you have done?

You may have caught a glimpse
into an unknown world,

and you discovered that world.

You discovered it!

Right! Shirt!

Clean shirt. Yeah, no,
I've got a clean shirt.

Where's my collar?

Damn it, where's the collar?!

- Shorty?

Shorty!

You better be dead in
there, or by God, the...

- We're
all gonna die here!

- Get back
in your bunk, Crimms!

- Another
one's dead then?

- It's getting worse, sir.

They're just offing
themselves in painful ways.

- There's a real bad
feeling about the place,

like there's something else.

- Every man down there
is sentenced to death.

Men on the edge sometimes take
matters into their own hands.

Less work for us, less
expense for the state.

So, that leaves us with
just three prisoners.

Good.

Have John contact
the medical school

to come and pick up the body.

- Not in the state
that body is in, sir.

It's already rotten.

- I shall hear no more talk
of the superstitious nonsense.

Dispose of the body
in the furnace then
and be done with it.

- Hey, Governor, sir,

I don't wish to
speak out of turn-

- For the love of all
that's holy, man, speak!

- Philip and myself
would feel a lot better

if we could get
Father Matthews here,

just to bless the
place or something.

- Have John send for him then.

If you could just take a look.

- I can, um, do a blessing.

- If it will calm the prisoners
and my two guards here,

please do, Father.

- Save us, Father.

There's evil down here.

- Though I walk in
the midst of trouble,

you preserve my life.

You stretch out your hand-

against the wrath of my enemies,

and your right hand delivers me.

- Quick, get him upstairs!

You must let us take
you to hospital, Father.

- No.

I just need to rest a moment.

- Father, what
is it that's down there?

What did you see?

Evil.

- Begging your pardon, sir.

But I've been speaking
with George and Phil

these last few days, and,

well, you see the wife,

she used to meet him
a few months back.

Bit of an odd fella.
Well respected mind.

- What is your point, John?

- Well, he's an expert
in this sort of thing.

Now, I hope you don't mind,

but the wife spoke
to him about it all,

and, well, he wants to
take a look around today.

- This is turning
into a bloody circus.

- Uh, at noon, sir.

- Excuse me. Mr.
Abberton, is it?

- I am, indeed.

- I'm John Chapman. My
wife spoke with you.

- Yes, of course.

- John.

Mr. Abberton, welcome
to Bishopsgate.

I am Owen Forsythe,
the governor here.

- So tell me about the problem.

- I'm not sure about all this.

Let's talk about what it is
exactly you can do for us.

- Oh, Governor! Governor!

Just the man I wanted to see.

- You're the photographers.

John, remember this is
a jail, a secure one.

Who sent for you?

- Nobody, sir, but it is
about the photographs.

- Well, I'm dealing with
more pressing matters.

- I know you. You're
the inventors.

- Inventors?

No, Mr. Abberton, they're
just photographers.

And rude ones, at that.

- Sir, I beg you, look
at the photographs.

- Well, what am I
looking at here?

Badly taken photographs
of a dead prisoner?

- At first we thought it
was fungus on the lens, sir,

but it is not.

It is something quite different.

Now I beg you, sir, allow us
to re-photograph the subject.

- No, that just
wouldn't be possible.

- Let me see those.

You took these when?

- A couple of days ago.

- Something happened.

You've seen something.

- I don't know what you're
talking about, girl.

- Governor, we would formally
like to offer our services

as paranormal investigators.

- A second ago you
were photographers,

and now you're
paranormal investigators?

The world's gone mad.

Whatever your services
are, they're not required.

Now good day.

- Nobody leaves.
- What?

- It is imperative that
nobody leaves until I am done.

- Now you just wait one moment-

- For that matter, has
anybody else come or gone

since the disturbance started?

- Well, we've been home
to our wives and back.

Just you all, and Father
Matthews, and you here.

- Well, where is
this Father Matthews?

- He's...

He's in my office.

He was attacked by something.

He's resting.

- I must speak with him.

- Nobody leaves.

- I suppose I better
search you then.

- Search us?

Can you not take the word
of an English gentleman?

- Father Matthews, this is-

- I know who he is.

This was the work of
one of Satan's demons.

None of your little
parlor tricks will work,

only the word of the Lord.

- It doesn't appear to
have worked out too well

for you so far.

Have you been
scratched anywhere?

Show me your arms.

- I would think even
someone like you

would know how to properly
address a man of the cloth.

- Father, please
show me your arms

so I can see if your
God abandoned you

and allowed you to be
attacked by a demonic spirit.

I see no signs of
a demon, Father.

- You will see.

Go down there, and you will see.

- Okay, Father.

Better get to it with
my parlor tricks.

Governor, I want the
jail locked down.

- Locked down?
- Yes.

Nobody leaves, nobody enters.

It should be quite
straightforward for a prison.

Is this the exact area?

- Yes.

- I want prints of any
photographs you take.

The last man executed
here, who was he?

- The prisoner's name
was William Colcott.

- Was no man.

- Quiet, you.

- You knew the prisoner?

- No, not really.

- Was he God fearing?

- He struck a man of
God. Is that a clue?

- You assume too
much, Frederick.

You, guard, take me
to the execution room.

- Nothing will give
me greater pleasure.

- Uncle?

- Hm?
- I need...

I need to not be in here.

- Are you all right, Ems?

- Yes. I'm sorry, Uncle.

I just had to get out.

The air, it's heavy down here.

- It is. It's a miserable place.

Well, get
your breath back.

We won't be here long,

and we will never
find a better place

to test the old Atmosizer.

- So, this Colcott, how
did he face his execution?

Was he afraid?

- No.

I've never seen
anything like it.

If I didn't know better, I'd
have thought he wanted to die.

- He didn't die quickly.

He screamed. He burned.

- Yeah.

How did you-
- How long was he

kept in jail before
he was executed?

- Only a week.

Judge wanted it done quick.

Well, quicker than usual.

He got bumped up the
list as a priority.

- Why?

- Papers, probably.

Ever since the Ripper,

the press are desperate
for another maniac.

Kill the man, kill the press.

- Was he buried on
consecrated ground?

- Well, usually we sell
the prisoners' corpses

to the medical
school up the road

straight after they drop.

William was a bit cooked,

so we chucked him
in the jail furnace.

"May as well finish cooking
him," the governor said.

- Have the governor
meet me outside cell 13.

And I shall need a table.

I require your assistance.

- What do you want us to do?

- Just to wait.

- One table.

Had to borrow it from
the governor's office,

and he wasn't happy.

- No, he was not.

- Okay, I need all
of you to create a circle.

- What is this, an exorcism?

- No. No.

An exorcism is a religious
practice. That's not what I do.

I merely require everyone's
presence to communicate.

- You're here
to get rid of this thing,

not converse with it.

- Spirits were once people,
people with personalities,

insecurities, fears.

I must get to know them
before I can do anything else.

You, you're no exception.

If there are any spirits
who wish to make contact,

please use me as a vessel.

What holds you here, spirit?

Knock twice, like this,

if your name is William Colcott.

William Colcott, murderer
of innocent people,

if it is you who lingers here,

stop cowering in the
shadows and show yourself.

I need all of your energy.
Do not break the circle.

- This may work well for the
superstitious, but not here.

Whatever it is you do,
Abberton, just do it.

Philip.
- Yes, sir.

- Uh, Mr. Abberton,
there is another way

of generating a psychically
receptive atmosphere.

- Ah, your machine.

And does it work now?

- Does it work, sir?

It will give you everything
that you require and more!

- I may be able to work with it.

Set up your device in the
morgue and wait for me there.

- Come on, come on.

Now, uh, which way is
the morgue? That way?

Yes, right.

Now double check those coils,

and make sure we've got some
really heavy gauge wire,

number six, that blue copper
stuff that I got the other day.

- This is it, huh, Uncle?

- Yes, shh, shh, shh, shh.

Don't want this
Abberton fella to think

we're just a pair of amateurs.

But we are.

- I will now switch
the machine on.

We will now allow

the Atmosizer to charge
the air for awhile.

- Assuming it works,

if I tell you to switch
that thing off, you do it.

No questions. Is
that understood?

- You're the expert.

- Sometimes the traditional ways

are still the best ways.

- What is that?

- Threads from a sacred cloth.

A way we can see the spirit
as it enters to join us.

- Voodoo!

Voodoo!

I come to the table
with state of the art,

cutting edge science,

and you bring
wah-wah, mumbo jumbo,

and a dangling bit of strings!

- Call it what you will,

but at least my methods
have a proven track record,

unlike your machine!

- My machine is-
- Gentlemen!

Are we here to make contact
or are we here to argue?

The machine is working.

It's recording.

- Please.

- Be my guest. I shall observe.

- If there is anyone there who
would like to make contact,

please make yourself known.

What do you want?

What is your name?

Are you William Colcott?

- Switch off that thing. Now.

Can you play that back?

- Yes.

It's recording.

- Please.

- Be my guest.

I shall observe.

If there is anyone there

who would like to make contact,

please make yourself known.

What do you want?

What is your name?

Are you William Colcott?

Switch that thing off now.

- It works. It works.

It works!

Thank you.

- It's over?
- Not at all.

I need all you have on
this William Colcott.

- So it is him then.

- We should be up there.

This is my lifetime's work,

and that sanctimonious
witchdoctor

is probably taking
credit for it.

- The machine worked.

It actually worked, right?

You will have your due credit.

- Mm.
- Don't worry.

- I'm not worrying.
I'm going up there.

Guard the fort.
I shan't be long.

- Eh...

- What is it
exactly that you need?

- Any of his
personal belongings.

A piece of jewelry, a book of
matches, anything he may have.

- John, get in here!

- Sir.

- Bring me
William Colcott's personals.

- Yes, sir.

- All right, focus.

- Looks
like a wedding ring.

- That's exactly what it is.

- You did
not mention my machine.

- Does it matter?

- Well, of course it matters.

As far as they're
concerned, we're,

well, we're contributing
nothing to this investigation.

- This is not an
investigation, Frederick.

If you are here for
fame and grandeur,

then please stay upstairs!

- Sir, it is not about
fame and grandeur.

- Then what is it about?

- It is about credit
where credit is due, sir.

- I shall give you credit
when I believe it is due.

- I don't
want to labor the point,

but I hope it is
now properly made.

- Something is very wrong here.

- No.

- Emma, what the
hell are you doing?!

- Do not move.

You cannot take her.

I see you now.

I know what you are.

- Emma.

Give us the room, please.

- Why not?

You seem to be everywhere else.

I should be on patrol anyway.

- How do you feel?

- I feel hollow.

- Get in the bed.

I will stay here the night

as I used to when you
were a little one.

Do you remember?

- Thank you.

I'm just going to
rest for a while.

- Yes.

I used to talk to you
about your mama, didn't I?

You know,

I'm sure that she is looking
down on you now and thinking,

"What a marvelous
woman my Emma is."

I certainly think that.

I think you're wonderful.

Did I ever actually tell...

Tell you

that I can't do
anything without you?

- You need
to rest, Frederick.

- I do not believe that I
shall ever again rest easily

after what happened in there.

What was that?

- We were introduced to
William James Colcott.

- Colcott possessed Emma?

- No. He's nowhere near
strong enough to do that.

Certainly not to
someone like your niece.

- What do you mean
someone like my niece?

- She's special.

- Yes, she is.

And her safety is
my first concern.

Wow.

Doc, there has to be
a rational explanation

for what happened.

- Frederick, science
cannot explain everything.

Perhaps you need
to open your mind

beyond your limited
encounters with the afterlife.

- Do you know, sir,
that your condescension

generally annoys me,

but in this particular
case, I rejoice at it.

Why?

Because anyone who can
condescend like that

must have a plan.

- No plan.

- I thought not.

- Not yet.

But Frederick, you must leave
your machine switched off,

for now at least.

We can't risk drawing him
out until we're organized.

- Very well.

- Mrs. Sheppard.

- My husband didn't
come home last night.

Where is he? Sleeping off
a hangover in there again?

- Hold on.

- Who in the name
of God is ringing that bell?!

- It's George's wife, sir.

- Well, get rid of her!

- Begging your pardon, sir,

what am I supposed
to say to her?

She's quite angry.

- I don't care!
Just get rid of her!

- John Chapman, open this
door. I know he's in there.

- Look, I can't
let you in, Marie.

We've, uh, we've had a fire.

- A fire? You expect
me to believe that?

Where's the smoke?

Now either you open this door,

or when I leave here,

I shall go straight to your wife

and tell her all
about young Beatrice

down the Crown & Scepter.

Oh, I'm sure she'd
be very interested.

- All right, all
right, just hold on.

All right. All right.

All right, listen.

There's something strange
going on in here, all right?

Now George is down in the
cells with the governor

and some other people.

Now I'll get him to you
when I can, all right?

But until then, I need you
to hide in the store room.

Look, if the governor sees
you, it's my job, Marie.

Go on.

All right, now
please just wait here

'til I'll come get
you, all right?

- Uncle.

- Hm?

- How...

How did you sleep?

- Not good.

- I wonder why.

- You all right there?

I didn't mean to scare you.

- Do you see much of what
goes on outside your door?

- I pay no mind.
Not my business.

- I'm not a guard. You
don't have to fear me.

My name is Lucian
Abberton. And you are?

- Patrick O'Callahan.

- Cigarette?

- Thanks.

- Did you see a man
named William Colcott
pass through here?

- Third man, he was.

You'll be best off closing the
doors and leaving this place.

- I think that's exactly
what he wants us to do.

- Well, did you get
rid of him last night?

- Last night?

- Yes, sir.

The flashing light, that
sound crackling all night,

is it all done now?

- Step away from that prisoner.

Mr. Abberton, you
have had all night.

So is this thing gone?

- No.

- You're a fraud, Abberton.

George, have Philip
open the doors

and take Father
Matthews to hospital.

I won't spend a minute
longer locked in my own jail.

- With pleasure, sir.

- Let's see if I can put this
in terms you might understand.

These things, especially
the nasty ones,

they can attach themselves
to you, to your very person.

As a spirit, it is
bound to this place,

but it can use you as a way out.

- Bullocks.

He's trying to scare us.

He's after more
money, that's all.

- I couldn't possibly
scare you any more

than you already are.

- How dare you?
- Gentlemen, gentlemen,

gentlemen.

Whether or not we
believe Mr. Abberton,

we cannot allow whatever this
is to escape these walls.

You cannot want to take
it home to your wife

and your family.

- I ask you to just
stay the course.

Here, at least with me, it is
confined to these corridors.

- So you'll have us rot
here with these bastards?

- We stay here until I get
rid of it, and I shall.

- You have until
the end of the day.

- You're gonna die down here,

like all of us.

- What's your name?

- Rufus.

- I know that given
your current situation

you may not care about
anyone or anything,

but I do.

I don't even know
you, and I'm down here

keeping your soul safe

from an eternal
entanglement with evil.

- Oh, well thank God, eh?

- You should thank him, beg him,

and just about anything
else, that I'm successful.

- You'll die. Like us.

- Not like you.

If you're in a place like this,
you're going somewhere bad

when your number is called.

Until then, your
soul is in my hands.

Better hope I don't drop it.

- Big man, eh?

Big man with big
words, ain't you?

With a locked door between us.

Oh yeah, big man, eh?

- You know, it might
help if we knew

what we were looking for.

- Abberton, this dark mystery
nonsense may go down well

with wealthy housewives,

but if we are to work
together, you must-

- Is that what we are
doing? Working together?

- Well, aren't we?

- You're here because
you have to be.

- No, we're not lackeys you
can just use when you need to.

We're investigators, like you.

- You are not like me.

Paranormal
investigators search for

what they believe
to be out there.

I know what is out there,

and you shouldn't
be searching for it.

This was used to communicate.

- Communicate? With what?

- That is the question.

- I would dismiss that
man as a complete fraud,

except for one thing.

- He saw something
in our photograph.

- Oy, what do you
think you're doing?

- I need to ask this
man some questions.

- Good luck.

Crimms here doesn't know
what day of the week it is.

- What's this all about, then?

I ain't done nothing.

- Mr. Crimms, isn't it?

The man who occupied
the cell opposite,

you ever speak to him?

- Once or twice.

It's him, isn't it? He's back.

- Why do you say that?

- If I tell you anything,
he'll come for me.

- What is it you know, Crimms?

Whilst you're still alive,

there's always time
to redeem your soul.

You weren't always the man
they locked away in here.

- I had a wife once.

Violet, her name was.

- Violet. Lovely name.

- Yeah.

- You can be with
her again, Crimms.

- Noises came from
his cell that night,

vicious, horrible noises.

He whispered things, words
I never heard before,

words I never wanna hear again.

I know no more. I swear.

I know no more. I swear.

- Thank you, Mr. Crimms.

- Smartass.

You know more than
you're letting on.

I can see it in your eyes.

- Unfortunately, I
don't know enough.

Not yet.

- And how many
revolutions were there?

- Um...

Eight? Ten?

Well, maybe 12.

- Okay, so we need to
attach a rev counter?

- Yes, and something
for measuring the
gauss field as well.

- As well as atmospheric
pressure, temperature, humidity.

- Now we know the machine
is powerful enough,

we need to establish a maximum
and a minimum on the machine.

- Well, we can tweak,
restart, and try again

with Mr. Abberton's permission.

- Ah, Abberton, yes.

I expect he's
trembling in his boots

that we're gonna take
his business away.

However, I suppose you're right.

We should proceed with
proper scientific caution.

Oh, damn that. Let's
have a go anyway.

- Uncle.
- Just kidding, just kidding.

Just.

- No.

No! No!

No!

No!

No! No!

No! No!

No, no, I told them nothing!

I told them nothing!

I told them nothing!

- Step away from the door.

Whatever you may see
in any of these cells,

you are not to enter them.

Understand?

Tell the others the same.

- Cup of tea, sir?

- Make
it bloody strong.

- George?

- I'm speaking directly
to you, William Colcott.

Guide my hand, William.

Show yourself, William.

Show yourself.

I see you.

Come forward.

Use my hand, William.

Tell me. Tell me
what it is you want.

William, tell me.

Tell me what it is you want.

Tell me, and I'll-

- George?

George?

- Get the hell off me!

- Mr. Abberton?

Mr. Abberton, can you hear me?

- Water.

- There's a flask in my case.

Abberton, my dear chap.

- He's just too strong.

- What?

- He's too strong.

- Marie?

- George.

- What the bloody hell
are you doing here?

The governor will go
spare if he sees you.

- I don't know why I'm here.

- Who let you in?

Marie?

- The Devil sends
his regards, George!

- Marie?

Marie?

- Father, please.
You need to rest.

- I cannot leave God's work
to those heathens any longer.

- John, you're in
charge up here.

- Yes, sir.

- How are you feeling?

- Better. Thank you.

Where's Frederick?

- He's gone to make you some tea

to settle your nerves.

- I'm guessing he has
a tea-making machine.

- He was working on one once,

but the tea was horrid.

Now he carries a flask.
It's still horrid though.

- All this, the
machines, the inventions,

what are you looking for?

When we found you in
the execution room

there was something by
your side protecting you.

I couldn't see
it, but I felt it.

A strong, positive presence.

That presence, I believe, is
the reason you're still alive.

And I also believe
you know what it was.

To see, you just need to look
in the right places, Emma.

You don't need machines.

- Sometimes you need the
darkness to show you the light.

Something my mother
used to say, apparently.

- Wise lady.

Emma, please go and
check on your uncle.

- What the Devil?!

What are you doing?

- Father.

Father.

- What are
you doing?! - Father.

Father, don't move.

- Your heathen ways have
only made things worse.

- Then work with me, Father.

- Never.

- Uncle,
are you all right?

- That thing is not human.

- Mrs. Sheppard?

- Do you know her?

- She's the wife of
one of my guards.

How the blazes did
she get in here?

- Do not speak that foul
tongue in my presence, William.

Release her, William.

Release her!

- Power of God,
thrust into hell Satan

and all evil spirits.

- I
smell fear on you.

Man of God.

- Governor, wait! Don't!

William, you can't!

You need me instead!

You can't bring
your beloved back

without a body of your own!

You cannot have her!

Release her!

- Emma, are you all right?

- Yes.
- Huh?

- Yes.

- I thought I'd lost you.

- I'm okay.

- Lucian, old chap.

It won't do, you know, to
isolate yourself at this time.

- Where is everyone?

- Uh, they're drinking
my horrible tea.

- So...

So many deaths.

- I should have
destroyed the machine.

I should have, I
should have smashed it.

I should have torn
the notes up, I...

Lucian, I had no idea
that the invisible world

could be possessed of such evil.

- You all need to
leave this place.

- We cannot leave this place.

You told us that.

- People are dead because
of what I told them to do.

- No, you cannot
blame yourself, sir.

It was my machine.

- All the blame lies
at my door, Frederick.

I have never faced a pure,

unrelenting evil like this.

This William has knelt at the
altar of an ancient darkness.

He made a deal whilst
he was still alive,

and he intends to honor it.

- William Colcott is
dead. They executed him.

What good is any deal now?

- Alive or dead

makes no difference
to these things.

- My dear fellow.

What has he done to you?

Emma, get him up.

We've gotta get him

out of here!
- No!

I shall remain here
and draw him out.

When I do, you will all leave.

- And leave you here to die?

- Please, Frederick.

I don't have the strength
to fight you on this.

- Either we leave together
or we stay together.

- There has to be another way.

- There isn't.

Be ready to leave.

I won't be able to
hold him for too long.

You must, Frederick. Please.

- Wait a minute, wait a minute.

Our machine gave
the creature power.

Now what if it was possible
to reverse the process?

- Drain the atmosphere
instead of charging it?

- It
would make it weaker.

- Yes.

- We could do this!
We can do this.

Now, Lucian, listen to me.

There is another
way, the three of us,

the old and the new
working together.

And I think that you still
have enough power in you

to finish the job.

- Let's destroy the bastard.

- Now we
have to draw him in.

- But how?

- The usual approach is to
draw the spirits out somehow,

lure it into a sense of
strength and security,

then attach or
bind it to an item,

something symbolic
from their life.

- We could use the
ring to draw him in.

- No, Emma. I have tried.

The ring holds too much
energy from William's life.

It's a source of power for him.

I need something
deeply negative.

- Would you say the key
that locked him away

was negative enough?

- The key. That's it.

- And all we do is find a
way of bringing him close.

The Atmosizer
electrified the air,

thus inadvertently feeding him.

To weaken him, we
reverse the process,

but then we run into a problem.

- We need somewhere
to send the charge,

to store it, something big.

- So we're gonna bypass
the electric chair

and connect the cable
directly to the Atmosizer,

and then run it back

straight into the
capacitor of the generator.

Problem solved.

- Prepare your machine.

I think we have a plan.

We may have found a
way to entrap Colcott,

but Governor, we need your help.

- What is it
exactly that you need?

- Be with me, Mother.

All clear.

- We're ready.

- William Colcott,
a pathetic whelp of a man.

You failed in life, and
now you fail in death.

You're weak, Colcott.

Too weak to face me,
governor of Bishopsgate Jail,

the man who watched you die.

Preying on the innocent.
Nothing but a filthy coward.

You have failed.

That's it, I'm not
reading anymore.

Just go back downstairs
and finish this thing.

- Now, Frederick!

I bind you, William Colcott.

I bind you to this key in
death, as it bound you in life!

I can feel your
weakness, your fear.

You failed, William!

William!

William!

Your soul belongs to me!

Emma, now!

- Stop the machine!

- Lucian!

Lucian, did it work?

- Of course it worked.

- We did it.

We bloody did it.

- Well done.

- Governor, may I ask you,
please, to open the door

so that we can all go home?

No, no, no, Ems.
That won't do at all.

- What if we took
photographs for the police?

- Photographs for the police?

- Photograph the
scene of a crime.

It would certainly be more
accurate than a sketch.

- Emma,
that is preposterous.

That would never catch on.

No, no, I still think what
we have to do first of all

is write a true account of
what happened at the prison.

- We need to reach
out to Lucian.

- I am not in.

- Um, Uncle!

- Oh.

Mr. Abberton. Welcome.

But say his name and he appears.

- I hope you don't mind
my coming over uninvited.

I thought it only right that
I paid you half of my fee

from Bishopsgate.

- My dear fellow, you...

You don't need to do this.
This is far too generous.

I do not know what to say,
sir, other than thank you.

- There are rumors
of what happened

spreading around
town like wildfire.

They're calling you two the
great ghost hunters of London.

- The local paper said
it was a prison riot.

They even interviewed
the governor.

- Of course.

No right thinking man
in the prison system

would've wanted the truth
printed in the papers,

least of all the
man about to retire

from a distinguished career.

Coverups are unfortunately
common in this profession.

So, what next for the great
ghost hunters of London?

- Well, I think
for the time being,

we're going to resume our career

as postmortem photographers.

We have acquired a new affection

for the dead who
stay dead.

- Well, I wouldn't
get too comfortable.

My associate is very interested
in speaking with you again.

You've both caused quite a
stir in the right circles.

Oh, I almost forgot.

This is for you, Emma.

I thought it might be
of some use to you.

- "Communicating Beyond
the Thin Veil of Death,"

by Lucian Abberton.

- Good lord, I must dash
if I'm to make my train.

I just wanted to deliver
the money personally

and say thank you.

- Thank you, Abberton.

- Both of you.

- Thank you.

Uh, Mr. Abberton, before you go.

What happened to the key?

- It's exactly where
it needs to be,

locked away in the darkness,

where no man should
ever go looking.

Soon, my love.

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