All language subtitles for Slasher.S05E01.720p.AMZN.WEBRip.x264-GalaxyTV

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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 [laughter]

♪ I'm half crazy
[Daisy screaming]

♪ 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...

Difuze

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