Houdini and Doyle (2016): Season 1, Episode 1 - The Maggie's Redress - full transcript

Seems to me the title of World's Greatest
Escape Artist is a bit oversold.

And you'd have 'deduced'
that this was a trap.

- No doubt it was 'Elementary,
my dear Doyle'.
- He never said that.

- Luckily, I can hold my breath longer
than anyone in the world.
- Wonderful.

Except that the Thames is tidal.

We have an hour and a half
before the water retreats.

I'm not saying I'll live, I'm saying
I'm gonna outlive you.

Quite stirring, your pettiness
in the face of adversity.

Synced and corrected
by peritta

Sister Fabian?

If that's all, Sergeant Gudgett?



Our girls are quite prone to hysteria

and the sooner we can put this
behind us, the better.

Can't rush these things,
Sister Mathilda.

Right then, Winnie. Is there
anything else you'd like to add?

Now's the time.

Don't look at me, girl. If you have
something to say, out with it.

- I saw who did it.
- And you're just now coming
to the conclusion -

- Who did you see, Winnie?

Lucy Allthorpe.

I'm sorry, Sergeant, the girl is
obviously confused.

Why? Do you know this Lucy Allthorpe?

She was a resident here.
Until she died, six months ago.

One minute!

Two minutes!



Three minutes!

Four minutes!

Let him out!

Ladies and gentlemen, the Great Houdini!

Harry, I'm sorry about your ankle.
The lock is still sticking.

You're beautiful, Florrie.

Which is the only reason
I'm not firing you.

Where did this story come from?

You guys told the press there's
a killer ghost out there?

The Great Houdini.

Good morning, Harry.

What's Doyle doing here? Please tell
me he's doing research

on one of his 'Shylock' Holmes books.

Wonderful to see you again. You Brits, the way
you lie in the name of politeness is charming.

I can provide a wealth of knowledge
about the supernatural

and this case offers a rare
opportunity to prove - Prove?

10,000 American dollars say that
you can't prove anything.

I'll accept your bet. But for my end,

I'll put up a first edition of my
new book, The Great Boer War.

Sir, I can handle this case myself.

Without help from a
writer and a magician.

I'm quite familiar
with police protocols.

Yes, you regularly mock them and us
in your stories.

Sorry, gentlemen, but Sergeant
Gudgett is absolutely correct.

Aw, don't tell me you're still upset
about our photo.

If there's nothing else...

Then I guess I'll have
to play the Nicky card.

You're going to call Sir
Nicholas Hampstead,

the head of Scotland Yard, because I
won't facilitate a juvenile wager?

Why?

It can't just be the bet.

Why do you two care so much about this?

Every time you arrive at the scene
of a bloody murder,

the first thing you have to do is to
find the ones left behind,

the ones who have not been physically
harmed but on whom all the pain will land.

Who've had their loved ones ripped
away from them.

For ever. But what if
that wasn't the truth?

Every religion for centuries has
told us that death isn't the end.

And now, thanks to the many
staggering advances in science,

we may be able to actually prove it.

Nothing is as it was, just 10 years ago.

Maybe not even death.

What a complete and utter load of crap.

Death is scary. Death should be scary.

Con artists and fools
shouldn't be allowed

to use the word 'science'
in defence of a dream.

I will allow both of you access,

as long as you're assisted
by one of my officers.

- Sir, I'm not -
- Sergeant, fetch me Constable Stratton.

Sir.

Merring wants to see ya.

- Um... Could you find me a cup of coffee?
- This is Constable Stratton.

Arthur Conan Doyle. A pleasure.

Pleased to meet you.

It's an honour, Mr Houdini.

- You're really a cop?
- One of the many
wonders of the new century.

Constable, you'll be
assisting these gentlemen

with their concurrent investigation
into the murder of Sister Fabian.

Me? Thank you, sir.

I won't disappoint.

I think I'm gonna like this century.

Constable.

By 'concurrent', I mean 'extraneous
and unnecessary'.

So while they play detective, you'll
play nurse maid, nothing more.

Understand?

Yes, Chief Inspector.

It's a Magdalene Laundry. They take
in young women, some unwed mothers.

In return, the girls
work in the laundry.

- Good morning, Sister...
- Grace. Good morning.

Sister Grace, I'm Constable Adelaide
Stratton of Scotland Yard

and Messrs Houdini and Doyle are
special investigators assisting us.

Wait. You're a policeman?

Yes, ma'am.

Some of the girls started seeing
Lucy just after she died.

She's obviously a very restless soul.

Makes sense. Yes, a murderer would
take advantage of the ghost stories.

It's all right, girls, back to work.

Would it be too much to ask for an
autograph? Not at all, Sister.

I'm sorry, I meant Dr Doyle.

The door was locked and
there's no sign of force.

- So how many keys were there
and who had them?
- Uh, two sets.

Winnie had one, and the other one...

So, that's both sets accounted for.

That leaves your theory...
on the outside.

Yeah, there's no way a human could
get through that door.

Without a paper clip.

Winnie said the ghost appeared here,
crossed the room,

and passed through this wall.

A very... solid wall.

People see things, especially young
women who've taken a vow of celibacy.

Have you ever met one?

Yes, but I've never left one.

The simplest answer is, Winnie did it.

She had opportunity, and
a ghost to pin it on.

- Wouldn't even need paper clips.
- She would, however, need a motive.

Again, simple, the dead
nun was Winnie's boss.

Lotta people want to kill their boss.
Am I right?

Whoa, the laundry business is taking
in £50 a week. What a racket!

I'm Sister Mathilda, assuming the
duties of the late Sister Fabian.

And this is Winnie, who will relate
once more, what she thinks she saw.

It was Lucy, still
wearing her grey smock.

What can you tell us about her?

We knew she was a vain girl,

so happy to show off her flowing
locks and her piano playing,

and her useless ability to bend her
fingers back into ungodly positions.

A skill she did not have, however,

was the ability to rise from the dead.

Sorry, Sister, could I have a glass
of water, please?

I could've sworn there was a glass
sitting there. I'll be right back.

- Why are you lying?
- Mr Houdini!

I'm not. She's gone, you can drop
this ridiculous story.

I swear on my life, I'm
telling the truth.

- I saw Lucy.
- A killer needs a motive.

Why do you think Lucy wanted to
murder Sister Fabian?

Because Sister Fabian murdered her.

Lucy's music brought joy
to this miserable place.

Her favourite song was
When You Were Sweet Sixteen.

When she played it, it made us... happy.

All the girls loved her, which is
exactly why Sister Fabian hated her.

- And when they took her baby away -
- Lucy had a child?

The sweetest little girl.

Without her, Lucy was a different
person, angry, sad. No more piano.

And when she talked back, Sister
Fabian took a razor

and chopped off her beautiful red hair.

But that wasn't enough.
Sister soaked her clothes

and locked her out for the night.
Lucy died two days later.

And that's where they put her.

An unmarked grave,
with all the nameless 'Maggies'.

Winnie, look at me.

You truly believe Lucy's ghost
killed Sister Fabian?

Forgive me, but...

I pray to God she did.

Where do you keep the laundry money?

The £50 this place takes in.

You're suggesting this was a robbery?

I don't believe anything
without evidence.

Sister Fabian kept everything in here.

Unfortunately, she had the only key
and I have no idea where it is.

Now I'm suggesting this was a robbery.

Houdini was right, it was a robbery.

- Sadly, yes.
- I agree.

You hoped I was right?

You believe in the supernatural?

It's easy for you.

I mean, you're a brilliant writer, a
brilliant doctor, and you're a man.

I worked 20-hour days for years
until someone took a chance on me

and made me a Constable, and now
I've got a desk in the basement,

only summoned upstairs to make tea.
Until today.

What I hoped for was to be able to
work just a little while longer,

as an actual policeman.

There's still the mystery of the money.

Well, if you two aren't on the case,
neither am I.

Well, maybe I'm not quite done yet.

I was wondering if you could tell me
anything about the Magdalene Laundry murder.

Ah, yes, the murders.

Just one, actually. So far.

It's a brown man.

No, not brown of birth
but brown of filth.

Oh, it's a man of soot.

A living man? A greedy man.

Do you know where I might
be able to find him?

Whitechapel. Discussing
his exploits with...

...a rabbit.

A rabbit?

I'm just telling you what I see.

But that's not why you came here, is it?

There's something else you wanted to
talk to me about. Hm?

Yes.

I was wondering if you might be able
to contact...

my wife.

My dearest Arthur...

I've missed you.

Touie?

Yes, dear, it's me, your loving Touie.

I've been watching you.

And I see what a wonderful job you're
doing with the children.

But the new acquaintance you've made...

Oh, he is in the darkness.

He's in danger?

No.

You are.

How am I in danger? Touie?

Go.

So we're looking for a 'man of soot'
talking to a rabbit.

Hm.

Did the medium tell you anything else

that would make you
think she's credible?

She impressed me.

Look at this.

Darlin', give us a kiss, right?

He's definitely sooty enough.

And he's definitely flush.

I have an idea. If he has something
to hide, I imagine he'll run.

And if he doesn't?

I imagine he'll beat me rather badly.

Excuse me.

Do your friends know
you stole this money?

Hey!

- Urgh!
- Ooh!

Well played, Constable.

- Has he confessed?
- It's only a matter of time.

Sergeant Gudgett is quite effective
in his interrogation techniques.

And he was drinking? So human, right?

Yes. I've lost the battle.
But I've won the war.

We were only able to catch our man
with the help of a medium.

Then he isn't your man -
garbage in, garbage out.

He had a small fortune in his pocket.

You think he'd got a pay rise?
So he was carrying stolen money.

So are most of the men in Whitechapel.

And I've been doing a little
investigating myself.

Game of whiff-whaff?

- A hundred bucks?
- You do know each country
has its own currency?

Why rob a nunnery unless you know
there's money there?

I figure it's an inside job, so I
revisited the Sisters' record book.

Most of her entries are deadly boring,

except for the ones that don't add up.
- Someone was embezzling?

Someone the dead nun caught,

someone who had access to the books
and the lock-box.

So you're accusing Sister Mathilda,
a cloistered nun,

of embezzlement, cold-blooded murder
and of lock-picking?

It may not be as
farfetched as it sounds.

Mathilda's real name
is Bernadette Downie.

When she was 19, she was caught for
pickpocketing.

After she served her time,
she joined the Sisters.

Hm!

So Winnie's account, the account of
our only witness

is to be completely ignored?

We call it 'ping pong'.

Silly name.

The account denigrated by Sister
Mathilda, who according to you,

is the one person who has every
reason to point a finger at a ghost?

Look...

M-A-T-H...

Mathilda.

Corn syrup and food
colouring, AKA stage blood.

How did you do that?
All that matters is I did it.

Hey. Next time, pig's blood, Florrie.

Oh, all right Harry.

Much as I appreciate theatrics,
this is a waste of time.

You are a master showman.
Thanks. I get that a lot.

But Sister Mathilda isn't. Maybe
that's a skill acquired in prison.

Why do you refuse to believe?

Do you really think so much of
yourself you can't accept

there's anything out
there bigger than you?

Why can't you accept that
this is all there is?

Who died that you can't
stop chasing the dead

instead of enjoying the living?

- Oh, come on Doc, do your worst.
- Stop! Stop this!

As much as I hate to interrupt.

Merring thought you should know
there's been another murder.

Sister Mathilda.

The man Constable Stratton and I
arrested, he's still incarcerated?

Then I suppose I was wrong about him.

I think it's also safe to say that I
was wrong as well.

You seen enough?

Ready to trust the professionals to
do their job now?

Yes. We made a mistake.

But our mistake didn't
cost anyone their life.

If you'd had any police
presence here, at all,

this wouldn't now be the
scene of a double murder.

Look at this.

Someone wants to make
this a triple murder.

Any reason why Lucy would try to
kill Sister Mathilda?

She was part of it. She stood by
while Lucy was locked outside.

Watched her catch her death.

Lucy's a busy ghost. Anyone
else she might kill?

As far as I'm concerned, there were
three of them who murdered her.

Sister Grace.

We met her. She showed us
in the first time we came.

She seemed... nice.

She could've done something. But she...

She just let her die.

I'll make sure Gudgett
puts a guard on Sister Grace.

Might want to put one on Winnie.
she seems happy about the murders.

In fact, I'd check her room
for the missing money.

That laundry's probably full of
girls with a grudge.

I could go compile a list of girls
who had to gave up their babies.

- That'd give us a place to start.
- Excellent idea.

But it could be a big job.
We should divide it up. Hm.

50-50 sounds fair.

Hello, Sergeant. I just need a quick
look at Sister Fabian's office.

I, for one, am glad the great
Sherlock Holmes is dead.

A four-year-old knows more about
crime-solving than that made-up pillock.

I appreciate a heartfelt critique.
Now may I come in?

Yeah, of course.

You're never gonna
believe what I found...

Oh. My God.

Um... No, no, no. Come on.

I'm hardly dressed... Is that...

Which one?

Yeats?

Churchill?

Tesla?

Yes, yes... and yes.

The king?

No. Yeats and Churchill will show up
anywhere there's free booze.

- But the king was busy tonight,
so I hired an actor.
- Right.

But don't tell my mother.

Your Majesty...

That necklace is her birthday present.

We never had much growing up.
The best thing about my success

is that I can give her
the life she deserves.

She is beautiful.

- But you wanted to show me
something. Come on.
- Mm-hm.

Who are all these people?
I don't recognise them.

Bloodsuckers.

The better I do my job, the more
people believe in the supernatural.

That's what allows 'mediums' like
these to prey on the grieving...

take advantage of the vulnerable.

And I'm responsible. It's
up to me to stop them.

Is that a blueprint?

Um, yes. The Sisters' residence was
built on the site of a distillery

and there are several
secret passageways,

but this one runs from
Sister Fabian's office,

right up to the courtyard
where Lucy is buried.

You see? There's a direct
path from Lucy's grave

to Fabian's office, where
the killer passed.

It makes no sense for a living killer

to run for a sealed passageway.
But Lucy? This was her escape route.

Choo! That's quite compelling.

I'm just confused about one thing.

If a ghost can pass through the wall,
why does it need a passageway at all?

And on the subway, does it pay

or does it just drift
through the turnstile?

An eyewitness saw something
go through that wall.

I thought you were a smart girl who
thought for herself.

Now I see you're just a girl.

Quit your job and find a man to buy
you pretty dresses.

This might be some kind of bet for
you, but for me, this is my life.

You saw those girls in the laundry.

Do you know how many women
live in fear of that?

This is not just a job for me, it's...

...a hope we can avoid not only those
laundries, but something almost as bad,

a life of pretty dresses
and condescension.

Well said.

Still a stupid idea though.

Hello, it's Harry. We'll be right there.

A person's office is a
reflection of their life,

and the first time I
looked around this room,

I noted a distinct lack
of personal touches.

Except for one incongruity,
the single daisy in the vase.

- There are two daisies.
- There was only one

after Sister Fabian was killed.

And the piece de resistance?
Guess the name of Lucy's baby.

Petunia?

Lucy added a daisy each time she killed.

Is this why you dragged me out here?
It's about money, Doc, money.

Which is why I really dragged you here.

You were right about embezzlement.

But you were wrong about robbery.

Sister Fabian was putting away a
little something for herself.

All the missing money is in here.
OK, so we're back to Winnie.

Or any of the other girls who knew Lucy

and the name of her baby and liked to
pick flowers.

It doesn't prove the existence of -

What was that, an encore?

That wasn't me.

That was Lucy.

It could've been a
shadow, or a reflection.

Lucy or not, it was proof
of the paranormal.

- That's not what I saw.
- I'm sure it wasn't.

The eyes only see what
the mind lets them.

I was wrong about you. It's not that
you think too much of yourself.

It's that you think too little.

You're afraid that if there's something
more, you won't be worthy of it.

Why?

How are you supposed to stop a ghost?

You find out what it wants.

You were wrong about the 'man of soot'.

Sometimes the messages get confused.

But you were right about
the second murder. Mm.

And I need to ask you
about someone else.

Lucy Allthorpe, a young woman who
died six months ago.

I need to know what she wants.

Is she just after vengeance or is
there something deeper?

It's not about the vengeance.

She's seeking peace.

It's about redress. Making things right.

There is no confusion there.

But there is confusion
about your motivation, hm?

You came back for me, dearest Arthur.

Just promise you'll keep coming back.

Yes, of course.

Oh, it's wonderful to
hear your voice again.

Since I died, I've been
so terribly lonely.

Since you died?

Darling, I know it's difficult to
hear but, but you...

My dear Touie.

Hello? Hello?

That Italian man who says he can
send a message across the sea,

how's he expect to do it without a wire?

Marconi. Most people think he can't.

- What do you think?
- I don't know,

but I think it would be
brilliant if he could.

Were you able to talk to mother?

- I'll keep trying.
- You'd better.

You're so like her.

I'll be back in time to say good night.

- I had an epiphany.
- You know who the murderer is?

No, but I know how -- Then my epiphany
trumps yours. Come on.

We should've taken my car,
it can do 14 miles per hour.

My Oldsmobile does 15 but trust me,
this'll be faster,

we'll be there in less than six minutes.

You couldn't know that.

Hundred bucks says I do.

Sergeant, I need to speak to
Sister Grace immediately.

All you need is to know
she's safe and sound.

- I think I know who the killer is.
- You pop over to Baker Street?
Sherlock Holmes?

Argh!

- Damn!
- That was necessary,

time being of the essence and all that.

Ah, I was just coming to see you.
Now, I noticed you had a limp.

- Doyle!
- She has Ehler-Danlos Syndrome,

characterized by hyper-flexible
joints and a slight limp.

And it's hereditary. One might
expect that if Sister Grace

were to have a child, they may be
double-jointed, or even red-headed.

Lucy was your daughter.

And the killings, a mother's revenge.

Not revenge...

a mother's love.

You were a Maggie, too.

- How could you?
- It destroyed me
when they took my baby away.

But I had committed a mortal sin.

I tried to put it behind me.

I changed my name, and came here
to start a new life.

But when my daughter showed up...
with a child of her own...

I wanted to rush to her, to hold her.

But I was a nun, I could never admit
to being a 'fallen woman'.

I asked God why He'd sent her to me.

But when they started to torture her
I understood.

Watching her die was my penance for
the sin I thought I could escape.

I had to let them take her.

I had to sacrifice my
only begotten child.

I had failed Lucy in life but when
the girls started seeing her,

I knew she was a tormented spirit

and I vowed I couldn't
fail her in death.

I had to take the lives
of those responsible,

not to avenge Lucy...

but to give her peace.

You left that message on the window
to take the suspicion off you,

make us think that you
were the third victim.

No, I don't think it's
as simple as that.

Sister, please. Sister,
this is pointless.

Really? You're gonna out-limp us?

There she is. Sister!

- Sister!
- Sister, wait!

- Where are you going?
- You can't do this! No, no!

- Get back here! Sister!
- Sister!

I'd kill for a paper clip.

- I know, this is funny.
- Picture tomorrow's headline:

Houdini Can't Escape Watery Grave.

That is rich, that all the headlines
will be about me, not you.

Are you wearing a fixed collar?

What are you doing? Yes!

Yes! You've got stays, collar stays!

- We're not dying today.
- Hurry.

The water's rising.

Dammit! Come on.

They're wet. Come on. Come on.

OK.

Dammit! Give the other one.

Give me your other collar stay!

Doc?

DOC!

I had it.

- Sister Grace told me where you were.
- Where is she?

I know she's the killer.
I handcuffed her -- Where?

- Sister Fabian's office.
- She's the killer and the third victim.

Sister, please put that down.

This place has seen enough sorrow.

I have to die.

You're a Catholic, talk to her.

Sister, this is not what Lucy wants.

Of course it is.

- I let her die.
- That wasn't your fault.

Keep going.

Wherever Lucy is now, there is
no anger, there is no hatred.

I can feel her.

I can feel her love.

I can... I can feel her forgiveness.

Lucy... your mother is here.

If you can find it in your heart to
forgive her...

...show yourself...

now.

Behold... your daughter!

My baby.

- Come on, Sister.
- What the hell just happened?

Subsonic vibrations. You can't
consciously hear or feel them

but the waves stimulate the inner ear,

causing a fight-or-flight response
- 'the chills'.

The waves can excite the fluid
around the eyeball,

causing irregularities in
the peripheral vision.

The fleeing ghost.

How'd you know when it would happen?

The sound waves have a source,
the subway station up the street.

London Bridge Station, built under
a year ago, about when Lucy died.

And ever since then, every 17 minutes,

a train passes below and
Lucy's ghost appears.

So I needed you to stall.

Luckily it was on time
or we'd have another nun to mop up.

If all we saw was visual irregularity,

then why did everyone who saw it...

Why did WE think it was Lucy?

The eyes only see what
the mind lets them.

I have to admit, Harry,
I'm damn impressed.

- Thank you, Arthur.
- Despite you being
an insufferable ass the entire time.

Constable Stratton, how did you know
Sister Grace was the killer?

Handwriting analysis.

I noticed a similarity between
the writing on the window,

and entries in the ledger
made by a certain 'AC'.

Sister Grace's real
name is Alice Carlaw.

Phew! Equally impressive.
Oh, come on, equally?

How about if you include
me saving your life?

Sweetie, I escape from liquid coffins

four days a week, twice on Sundays.

I'm looking forward to your new book,
my dining room table's lop-sided.

I'm moving you upstairs.

Mr Houdini seems to think
you've done a good job.

Therefore, I assume you're having
an affair and when I have proof,

I'll not only fire you, I'll make
sure no woman is ever hired again.

Rather than love, than money,
than fame, give me truth.

Synced and corrected
by peritta