All language subtitles for Ripper.Street.S05E05.1080p.BluRay.x264-SHORTBREHD

I was told that you were dead.

But he did not...

Yes, but I was told this.

I will talk to her. My word on it.

I do not see an animal, Nathaniel.

And what if we left this
place? Robin as well.

Robin Sumner,
you trust me, don't you?

I'll see you safe.

You've been a very brave boy, Robin.

Well, that boy's dead,

washed up like garbage
in the mud of Goodluck Hope.

It's your piece-of-shit brother,
killing on account of your killing,

you goddamn animals.

There is a candle, sir.

No!

Mathilda! We had to catch him!

THATCH ER: Mr Reid?

Sir?

Mr Reid?

How is it you were taken?

They say it was as though
you surrendered.

Why?

Sir, to what end? Hm?

Did you and the Captain find Robin's
killed mother and uncle?

On what rash instinct has he
and Miss Susan now blasted their way

in and out of Mr Dove's home?

Please?

Please, Mr Reid.

What must we do next?

Mr Reid?

Mr Reid?

MAN: You can see
they came through this way.

This is your case, Inspector Drummond.

This may be Hackney, but this is a crime
birthed in Whitechapel.

Its felons will no doubt be hid there
until their escape may be made

and you, sir,
and your men at H Division,

you shall hunt and trap them
in Whitechapel.

- Am I clear?
- Yes, Mr Dove.

Now that they've got the boy,
they must make their escape

and must show themselves in so doing.

Therefore, will you allow me more men
requisitioned from the] and the K?

See the docksides locked down,
all the train stations likewise.

She was mother to me
when I had need of one.

And they have stole my son.

So, yes, Inspector, you shall
have all the men you require.

- Only make the instruction.
- Yes, sir.

And Mr Reid?

Now that Mr Shine's last actions
have delivered him into your custody,

- does he speak?
- He does not.

And never mind what Mr Shine did to him.
It's...

it's as if the marrow has been
sucked from his bones.

The betrayal he has suffered.

The perception of it, at least.
It is perhaps understandable.

You have cleared the Leman Street cells
for his safety there?

I have.

Then perhaps I might interview him?

I should be grateful, sir.

Then let us to Leman Street.
After you, Inspector.

Send for a photographer.
Do not let the mortuary men touch her.

Thank you, Matthew.

Thank you.

I never knew...

I never knew what it would be to see
the two of you together...

...and to know myself changed.

And, Connor,

you watch your father,

but, despite all, there is much
to take example from.

His courage.

His courage and his love.

There are fences yet to be leapt.

But we're going home, son,

to America.

And there, there are deep valleys

and there are rivers that are fresh with
spring thaw.

I have the carriage ready.

My driver will take you
as far as the Old North Road

and then make his own way home.

Now, Connor, this is Miss Mimi,

our true friend.

Well, how else am I to be rid of you?

The docks will be watched.

The boat trains for the northern
and southern ports likewise.

No, you'd only be apprehended,
escape once again, return here,

and I should never be able to open
this playhouse to the paying public.

All right. Best we're about it, then.

Aha.

You do not wish to hear news
of the wider world of Whitechapel?

- We do not.
- And what news is that, Miss Mimi?

Jedediah Shine is dead.

Well, that's cause
for celebration, then.

How so?

Er...it is not said in detail...

...only that the capture of Mr Reid was
his last living act.

It appears Mr Reid's daughter
was turned to his betrayal.

Hey, he knew the risk.
I warned him.

But he decided to go his own way,
just as now we're gonna go ours.

Caitlin, you bring the boy. I'm gonna take
the bags out to the carriage.

Caitlin, I said bring the boy.

Matthew, I have to.
I made the promise.

That betrayal, that sundering,
they are down to me.

God damn it, Caitlin.

No.

Or does he not merit intervention?
Does she not deserve the truth?

And what about us,
for Christ's sakes?

We have him, we have Connor,

and now you're going to go
saunter over

and present yourself to the home address
of Inspector Samuel Drummond?

I do not suggest such a thing.

Then what?

Will you leave us a moment,
Inspector Drummond?

Yes, sir.

All of London is a-clamour, sir.

The capital's press
is therefore to be gathered

at Scotland Yard tomorrow morning...

...where I shall explain to them the ugly
whys and wherefores of how it is

the leading police of Whitechapel are
either murdered or murdering.

I'm sure you...

understand, therefore...

...a service you would render,

should you give full account of...

...all you know.

Your friends have killed once more.

More blood,

the spattering of which
lands on your shirt cuffs, Mr Reid,

for you know where they might be found
and will not say.

Will you now tell me?

And be aware I do not offer you terms.

You are wiser than to think

your many articles of disgrace might be
shrived for one act of confession.

No, you speak, because you understand
that this mayhem must come to an end.

You do it because
you believe in a resolution.

A last good act for
Edmund Reid.

It will not erase the stain
of your works, sir.

But it will return a measure of order

to the community
you have purported to serve...

...and some peace

to the shattered soul
of your daughter.

I could hear Bennet Drake
as he died.

I heard what it was
he said to your brother,

before your brother took his throat out.

Bennet said

that to see him was
only looking in a mirror...

...and now you and I here,

facing reflections of our own.

I know you sincere, Mr Dove...

...sincere in your hope that the world be
righted and renewed...

...the pitiless murk of the past

be obliterated and forgot.

This journey here,

GUYS,

began with a man named
Isaac Bloom.

You recall the name?

Isaac was a mathematician.

He believed that numbers betrayed
the true nature of our universe

and that, accordingly,
it was empirically proved

that the entropy of the universe extended
to a maximum,

that everything moved
irretrievably from order

into chaos.

You do not believe that, do you?

I cannot.

I said the same, because what hope
for Whitechapel if he were right?

You wish for a confession
of truth from me?

I do.

Well, this is it.

Isaac Bloom was correct
in all that he said.

You forget your hopes, sir,

because this Whitechapel
is coming for you.

The one last good act, you say?

Then I choose the simplest.

I will not betray my friends.

He will not speak.
But we must proceed, regardless.

The man he is, his position
in your own private life,

it is no easy thing, I know.

But you see him charged, Inspector.

I shall, Mr Dove.

My, but you are upright,
the pair of you.

Careful, Frank.

What is it scares you, Drum?

That just as the sanctified
Miss Mathilda Reid has done,

we too might find cause to wallop you
in full view of the world?

Are you about your work,
Desk Sergeant?

Have you wired the] and K
about them extra boots?

Do they even now read
their instructions

as to how each and every means of
departure from this town

is to be barricaded?

No? Then see it done!

And when you have, you may come
and witness Mr Reid's charge sheet.

Hear his offences for yourself.

Please confirm your name.

Edmund John James Reid.

- Address?
- 14 Fairclough Street, Whitechapel.

Occupation?

Police officer. Drummond?

What I asked of you earlier,
you told Mathilda?

That I understand, that I understood?

Please, will you tell her?

Please say that you'll tell her.

Charge sheet against
Reid, Edmund John James. Witness.

Sergeant Francis Thatcher.

Her Majesty's Metropolitan Police
do charge you with the following crimes.

The unlawful murder with
malice aforethought of Theodore Swift.

The unlawful murder

- of Horace Buckley.
- Drum.

Aiding and abetting in the unlawful murder
of Frank Goodnight.

Resisting arrest.

- Drummond.
- Conspiracy to defeat justice.

- Please, Mathilda must know.
- Being an accessory after the fact...

- Please, Mathilda must know.
-...to the felony of permitting...

- She must not suffer...
-...Miss Susan Hart...

-...any further distress.
-...and Captain Homer Jackson...

to regain their liberty,

whilst having the prisoners
in your lawful custody.

- It is only a message.
- You will sign here, Mr Reid.

Why will you not undertake to give it?

And then you, Frank.

He cannot undertake to do that, Mr Reid,

because Miss Mathilda put him out
on the streets and won't speak to him.

Is this true, Drummond?

- Please, sir, sign...
- REID: Tell me.

- Sergeant Thatcher, sign.
- Samuel Drummond?

Was it you who lit the candle
in Mathilda's window?

Sergeant Thatcher, earlier, you were
enquiring after the Sumner family.

Yes, Mr Reid.

Perhaps one and a half kilometres
upstream from the Limehouse Cut,

there is a series of heavy meanders
through Bow Creek

and on the eastern bank

there is a copse of black poplars
at Goodluck Hope.

Amongst, you will find a mound of earth
marked with a prow of driftwood

and within that grave you will find
the murdered body of Robin Sumner.

H Ow?

Who?

Who?

Commissioner Dove, I believe.

That man.

And that Inspector Drum, up there
with his vanity and his ambition,

he may as well have the little boy's blood
on his hands as well.

Well, he shall hear what he's done.

No. No, no.

Samuel Drummond...Samuel Drummond is
innocent of all and must remain so.

Sir? The candle. Miss Mathilda.
How can you defend him?

It was done for the love of her.

Whichever, Sergeant.

It serves no purpose to ruin
his sense of the world.

Not yet, at any rate.

Then I ask you again, sir.

What must we do now?

Not we, Francis Thatcher.

You.

You are Miss Mathilda Reid?

Yes. Who are you?

This is my theatre, Miss Reid.

It means a great deal to me so I do hope
that you can be trusted.

Hello, Mathilda.

Why am I brought here?

Because she asks.

And she has a way
of getting what she asks for.

You bank a great deal
on my discretion, Miss Susan.

I hope you will consider it
a risk worth taking.

Then what is it that I may do for you?

Relieve me of a secret,

I hope.

How may I do that?

Allow me to tell it to you...

...for I've kept it long
and it is to me a poison.

Hello, Connor.

My son knows a friend when he sees one.

May I fetch you some tea,
Miss Reid?

Thank you, Captain Jackson.

We heard
the news of your father.

He was hid here with us until...

Well, you called to him,

and which father can resist
the call of his child?

But I did not call to him,

did not send him out to go
beneath Mr Shine's fists.

I would not. I could not.

I believe it, Mathilda.
You love him.

I do.

And yet...

The things he has done?

May I tell you about my father?

Are you feeling all right?

Oh, um...

a little flu.

great ambition,

what he suffered
and for all its horror...

...I wished for Mr Reid to lock the grille
and leave my father there.

Forgive me, Miss Susan.

But your father's fate,
my own's involvement in that,

it is not those actions
which brought me to despair.

I know, Mathilda.

But Mr Buckley...
what he did to Mr Buckley...

Mathilda, this...this is
why I bring you here.

Whenever,

down the years,

you bring to mind the picture
of what befell Mr Buckley in that cellar,

you no more imagine Mr Reid
with that man's head between his fists...

...but myself.

Now, it would take you
another lifetime to understand

what would have made me do...
do such a thing,

but at the time I believed your father

perhaps as vicious as your...your worst
dreams may suggest...

...and...

to my shame,

my life...

my lifelong shame,

I saw a way by which...

...all that I had made for myself...

...all that your father would set himself
upon taking from me,

I saw a means to protect it
and that means was a lie.

In the days after you were found,
taken into my care,

your mind fevered, wandering,

the damaged spirit child Mr Buckley had
made you believe that you were...

...your father, Mr Reid,
came looking for you

and I told him you were dead.

And worse, Mathilda.

For Mr Buckley's gentleness to you,

I described a vision of horror
to your father,

that you had been chained and starved
and...and violated

all those years that
you'd been gone from him.

So, yes, he took Horace Buckley's life.

But with my hands, Mathilda.

My hands.

My hands.

As...

...as though he were my puppet.

It's true, Miss Reid.

All of it.

And so you bring me here
now to tell me this,

because you have your son,
are leaving,

and wish to unburden yourself
before you do?

Forgive me, but, as ever, I feel you serve
no-one's ends but your own.

Think on it,

as my father is dragged
pitilessly to his justice,

while you escape yours.

God damn it!

You just couldn't leave well enough alone,
could you?

Of all the women in the world to have
an attack of conscience.

Jesus Christ.

God damn it.

I mean, what did he
ever do for me, huh?

Hauled his flapping ass out of
more scrapes than I care to think of,

and now...

Now what, Captain?

I have a goddamn plan...

that's what.

I see him, Sarge.

Evening, boys.
You took your sweet time.

Think it's gonna take six of you, do you?

Well, perhaps it might...

...if you were men

and not cowards and eunuchs.

Come on, darlings.

Where's Sergeant Thatcher?

- Don't know, sir.
- Well, somebody bloody find him!

Stay there!

Well, Drummond, the fairy queen himself.

Whatever it is you have in mind,
do not take me for a fool.

Has he been searched?

Strip him.

Do it!

- Inspector, sir...
- What?

You're called for.

I'm occupied.
Take a note or send them away.

It is Miss Reid, sir.

Lock Captain Jackson down.
Two men on the outer door also.

What is it you do, Captain?

Attack of conscience, Reid, and you can
save your gratitude for later.

And why am I grateful that
you too are now incarcerated?

Why do you think?

Not that you deserve it, but we're gonna
break you out of here.

We?

Tilda?

Tilda.

Will you come upstairs so we may talk?

In due course, perhaps.

For now, I would see my father.

Drum, you may take a moment

to consider the consequences
of denying me this,

but do not take any longer.

Thank you, Drum. As I said, alone.

I shall wait beyond.

Hammer on the door
when you are done, Tilda.

- Father.
- Darling girl.

- Are you hurt? What that man did...
- Hush, Mathilda. I shall live.

My candle.
It was not myself to have lit it.

I know. I know, Mathilda.

But how?

Mr Drummond is not a man much able
to disguise his shame.

- He told you?
- Not as such.

But he bears it hard, my darling.

Hey, my heart bleeds for him,
really, but, Miss Reid,

do you think it's about time we got about
our chief purpose?

No, no. No.

No, I am not for the freeing, Mathilda.

- Excuse me?
- No? more running, no more, no more.

But, Miss Susan,
she explained all to me.

No, no. Not all.

The man, Buckley, perhaps.

Her father, Theodore Swift,
I can never regret that.

But think on your Uncle Bennet
and all I brought him to.

Mathilda, an accounting must be made.

And now you're happy
to let me hang alongside you,

when I bust my ass in here to free you?

Yes.

On that matter,
it is my own strategy, Captain,

and I very much hope
it shan't come to that.

And that strategy being what?

Francis Thatcher is gone to exhume
the body of Robin Sumner.

I thought you said
you left that boy to rest.

He rests. Augustus Dove prevails.

Now, he may rest in due course again,

but it is that boy who will give his own
tragedy...

His family is here, Bennet Drake's,
Isaac Bloom's.

It is that boy who will hand
them their justice,

even if I am handed mine alongside.

And how is the boy to do that, Reid?
That boy cannot speak.

The dead can always speak, Captain,
when you are there to aid them.

-

My apologies, brother.
I have left you alone too long.

I thought we might eat together.

Last night, as we came under attack,
you broke down your door.

I did.

You did this so you might assist
my people?

I heard the pup calling.

And yet you did not protect him?

Well, the Captain, he...

he had a pistol.

- And besides...
- Besides what, brother?

Miss Susan is his mother.

She is a murderer, Nathaniel.

So am I, Gustus.

Do you recall the boy Robin Sumner?

Of course.

Miss Susan told me...

he is, in fact, not safe,

but he is dead.

And she knows this how?

...at Goodluck Hope.

How dead, did these
most valued witnesses say?

Killed...

...by you, they believe.

And what do you believe, Nathaniel?

You, who have known me your entire life.

Do you truly believe
I could do that to a pup?

A pup?

No.

Now, we are almost home.

Edmund Reid lies in a cell
at Leman Street, his spirit broken.

The woman Hart and her American must
now escape with their child

and will surely be taken in so doing.

It will be Christmas before we know it.

We shall fill the house with
food and gifts and friends

and give thanks
for the future ahead of us.

Eat.

Right.

I will fear no evil...

...for thou art with me;

thy rod and thy staff,
they comfort me.

Oh.

Oh, Robin.

How did you know where
to find him, Sergeant?

Mr Reid told me where.

And what will you do with him now?

Get him his retribution.

An admirable instinct, Mr Thatcher.

A policeman's instinct.

You have saved me
a great deal of trouble.

I should have been here
all night otherwise.

- It is a faster current here...
- (GROANS)

...and the course runs direct.

Do you see?

The pilot lights at Limehouse Cut.

The Thames running on the spring tide
and beyond the ocean.

As you sought to show Robin Sumner
his path in life,

you will lead him on in death now.

Whichever road Thatcher took, he's late.

He is way, way late.

Yeah, they're waiting for me, you know?
My wife, my boy.

For you too, if you need a ride.

We have the guns,
we have the dynamite, Reid.

We might...just go.

You might.

You ought.

Whatever has happened. Whatever is
coming, I cannot explain it.

But I...I must be here to see it.

But I am in earnest, Captain.

You go. Go now.

What?

And let you martyr yourself all alone?

Nathaniel!

Nathaniel!

Mr Dove, sir,
your carriage is here.

Order.

God damn you, silence!

So that the newspapermen of London may
be furnished with the truth,

Assistant Commissioner Dove
will now elaborate.

Thank you, Commissioner.

It is with regret
I must announce the death

of Inspector First Class jedediah Shine
of H Division, Whitechapel.

How do you respond to
rumours...

- Please.
- (CHATTER PAUSES)

Mr Shine was as fine
and resourceful a policeman

as any this force has known.

He will be mourned accordingly.

Extraordinary.

I need hardly mention how hard this goes
on the morale of our men,

who only so recently lost Inspector Bennet
Drake of the same division.

Is there any connection between...

How did Inspector Drake
meet his end, though?

- Inspector Shine's last action...
- (CHATTER PAUSES)

...was to secure the arrest
of Edmund Reid,

and whilst...and whilst I know
that man's reputation was hard won,

I hope that you will take
in good faith the charges

which the men of H Division
will soon be presenting

against their one-time station chief.

Charges?

How does this reflect
on the force as a whole, sir?

Let me say only this.

None of the speculation
carried in your pages

is far from the truth of the matter.

And should the courts, as I expect them
to do, find Edmund Reid guilty,

no matter his years of service,

we will be urging for the most severe of
penalties under the law.

Commissioner Bradford.
Can this indeed be true?

You would send one of your own
to the rope?

We would, Miss Castello.

With ever greater conviction,

given the vile and headstrong hypocrisy

he has sanctioned
and performed in our name.

You are Castello?

Good day, Mr Abberline.

Come away, Miss.

- You heard?
- I did.

Then you understand why I wired you.

I hoped you might be prised
from your retirement.

Ed Reid is to be hanged.

That hair-oiled smooth face back there,

that is the Mr Dove you wrote of?

I fear he now has
the wherewithal to prevail.

There are none left to challenge him.

There is you, Miss.

But all I had accumulated of his story,

the murdered Rabbi Ratovski's own
written account, I believe...

...Mr Shine destroyed it.

Then best we put it together again.

Where is Francis Thatcher?

Gone, as you ask. No man knows where.

Not returned?

Mathilda, why does the whereabouts
of Frank Thatcher worry you so?

I'm not sure I want to tell you, Drum.

After all, I know what it is you do with
the secrets I give you.

I would take it back, if I could.

I am sure.

But not for him.

All them things Mr Reid is said
to have done, he done.

- I know. -
So, he must face his punishment.

I understand, Drum.

I did it for you, Tilda.

Because I wanted...

I still only want for you and I to be able
to walk clean of this mess,

for you, for once, to be able to stand
atop the building of your life

and look outward from it,

not forever be casting your gaze
back inside,

for the fear it might catch fire again.

And he is the building, you feel?

Well?

I mean, is he not?

Yard, son! Pipe down!

Where's your chief?

Mr Abberline.

Mathilda Reid.

Mr Abberline.

On another occasion the men of H Division
would gladly welcome you,

but, as you might have heard, we are
sorely pressed at the present moment.

Who this?

This is Inspector Drummond.

This is him?

The milksop with whom you bring yourself
into shame and disrepute?

Looks like he might battle to blow
the head off a pint of mild.

Nonetheless, sir,

this is my command

and I'd ask you why you've brung yourself
here, today of all days.

I would see my friend,

before you and your master have his neck
choked at Newgate.

Tilda, it is not I that will pass
that sentence on him, as you know,

nor Mr Dove.

He agitates for it, however.

Drum, please.

Allow it.

I will not. It is prohibited.

MATHILDA: What is it you do, Drum?

What else? Alert Mr Dove
to this man's presence.

You do it, sonny.
I should be glad to know him.

Hm.

Hello?

Susan?

Captain?

Who are you?

Wait, wait. Wait.

Aah!

Shut up! Gaah!

- Aaah!
- Be quiet. Be quiet!

Nathaniel! Nathaniel,
you leave her be.

Will you...will you take Connor?

- And leave you here?
- He is a friend.

Trust me.

You brought him here?

Why?

Miss Susan, you told me

and I had to ask him,

because he...he is my brother.

But, Gustus, he swore,

no, he hadn't,

and how could I believe this of him?

But I watched and I followed him...

...and I saw him, he put a
bullet in that copper Thatcher.

Thatcher's dead?

Yes.

He put 'em both in the river,
but I swum out and I brought Robin back.

Oh, why did you bring him to me?

I've no-one else to go to...

...and I feel as...

as though something should be done

and Robin should be shown
to someone as proof.

Augustus must be punished?

Yeah.

Why?

Because he has killed.

So have you, Nathaniel.

But not a pup.

Never a pup.

Killing is killing...

...and if...

...if Augustus must be
punished...

...then you must.

All who kill...

must be punished.

I'm frightened, Miss Susan.

Perhaps...

...perhaps I ought to go with you?

Whoa!

- Thank you.
- Thank you, sir.

Walk on.

Miss Reid.

You did right to send
for me, Inspector.

This him, then, is it?

Mr Abberline.

On another occasion,
I should be grateful to meet you

and account for actions
we here have taken

which I understand must
surely fill you with horror.

But, our force, we comrades cannot be
seen to fight among ourselves.

My, but you are silky and oiled, boy.

However, I'm not in your force no more

and even were I still,
I would not call you my brother-man.

Then, sir, I think Inspector Drummond must
have his men

escort you from these premises.

Mr Drummond.

You men with me.

Gustus.

Good afternoon, Mr Dove.

Inspector Drummond,
my name is Caitlin Swift,

and I wish to surrender myself
to the police.

My name is Nathaniel Croker...

...and I too wish to surrender myself
to the police.

For what crime?

I'm sorry, Gustus.

I do not know you, sir.

Which crime?

- Murder.

Whose?

Leon Ratovski.

Rabbi Leon Ratovski.

Other men,

whose names I did not know...

...and Mr Drake.

He known to you, is he, Mr Dove?

He familiar?

I do not know this man.

Get 'em in. Men!

Get them in, all of them! Now!

Mathilda? What is it? What do you do?

Father, I think you must come.

just follow procedures, Mr Drummond.

All confessions to be writ,
signed and witnessed.

Yes, sir.

- Renshaw!
- Yes, sir.

You keep away! Right?

- You keep away.
- Nathaniel.

Allow it.

They must see him.

- Who is this boy?
Gustus.

Please.

You know.

Yes, Mr Dove.

- You know.
-

- I'll kill you, you son of a bitch.
- He's not worth the blood.

You taught him...

that he was the beast, did you not?

And that make you more able
to suppress and disguise

your own monstrosity?

Take control of your station house,
Inspector!

Barely have I known you ten minutes, boy,

and already the sound of your voice
makes me want to shit!

Edmund.

Fred.

Samuel Drummond.

You see, your station house has been
overtaken by its prisoners.

You are not to blame.
You were overwhelmed, at gunpoint...

...and your captors then locked down
the station house around you.

I knew chaos and horror long before I came
to Whitechapel.

Augustus knew it all.

You're going to leave her be, Drummond.

Caitlin!

Think of
what you and I once found.

You are needed here, Mr Reid.

Police. H Division.