Pennyworth (2019–…): Season 1, Episode 6 - Cilla Black - full transcript

This woman is my sister.

You followed me all the way
to goddamn Europe?

I am here on business, Patricia.

But you don't know who I am?
Jason Jason Ripper.

Would you fuck your mum
to save her life?

He didn't want
to leave Esme alone.

But I persuaded him.

This is on me.

This is my fault.

Esme was killed

to make you suffer.



Her killer is

watching you squirm.
You know who killed her?

You'll give me the name if
I do something for you first.

I used to work for you.

You're Lord Harwood.

Lord James Harwood.

I'm not Harwood! Oh! All right.

The struggle continues,
but it's not going well.

We're losing the battle
on the streets.

We want a truce,
and I asked them to arrange

a meeting between myself and
Frances Gaunt to discuss terms.

Then we'll kill her.

I got the distinct
sense they know.

They know I'm CIA.



I have a job for you,

if you're interested.

You have to succeed tonight

if you want that name.

Good night, ladies.

Come here.

Should I wake me dad? No.

This will sink

the bloody No-Name League
for good.

The widow Mrs. Thwaite
has been appointed

pro tem leader,
pending elections.

England will soon
be yours, my girl.

Civil disturbances
and street violence

between left- and right-wing
extremist groups

have erupted across the nation
following the unexplained death

of Julian Thwaite,

leader of the so-called
No-Name League.

The prime minister has issued
a statement.

We are facing the grave danger

of outright anarchy...

T-Turn it off. Turn it off!

Turn it off, Lulu.

Yes, mistress.

Law and order are the walls...

Are you all right, Ginger?

Upon which the root
of democracy sits.

I know that man.

Yeah, that was
the prime minister.

That's the man that hurt me.

That's right. It is.

You're remembering.

He's remembering.

Well done. Keep thinking.

Do you remember your name?

J-James.

Bingo!

That's right, love.
You're James.

James what?

James...

H-H-Harwood.

James Harwood.

My name is James Harwood.

Lord James Harwood.

Hooray!

The leader of the Raven Society.

That man... tortured me.

He destroyed my life.

H-He has to die.

He has to die.

Bloody idiots.

You mark my words,
this carries on,

we'll be swimming
in rivers of blood.

We'll be paddling
fucking canoes in it.

Assassinations, riots.

You'd think we was French.

You all right, Daveboy?
Been in the wars again?

It's... It's just a scratch, pal.

Oh.

Yes, sir, what can I get you?

I'm good, thank you.

I've been looking for you
for two days.

I was poorly.

What happened?

Well... what can I say?

I cocked up, eh?

One of those things. Sorry.

I'm sorry,
"one of those things"?

The wrong damn target was hit.

Fair play.

But that wasn't me.
That was the other fella.

Ah, yes, the other fella.

The one who helped you escape.
It was...

It was very kind of him.

Who was that?

Couldn't tell you.
He was wearing a mask.

Ah, a mystery man, eh?

Who was he working for?

And how the hell
would I know that?

Hmm. I'll have to explain
this mess to my bosses.

They'll need answers.

Any input?

No.

Here's my theory.

You were the assassin,

but it wasn't Gaunt
or the Raven Society

who asked you to kill Thwaite.

Nor was it the government.
They have plenty of killers.

Why come to you?

Then a name sprang to mind.

I hear you've become close
friends with John Ripper.

You've been spying on me.

That's not a denial.
I'll take it as a yes.

It was you who killed Thwaite,
and Ripper who sent you.

Take it how you like.
Leave me alone.

Now, why on Earth...
would Ripper want to kill

the leader
of the No-Name League?

What's in it for him?

It's puzzling.

I suspect he's working
for somebody else.

Don't suppose he told you,
did he, who he's working for?

You ask a lot of
questions, Mr. Wayne.

Are you sure you want
the answers?

Well... that sounded vaguely
like a threat.

I don't make threats.

Why tell people what
you're going to do?

You may have started
a civil war.

Haven't you done
enough harm already?

I don't want you to get hurt.

I can't say the same
for my friends.

Some of them aren't
as gentle as I am.

You're not scaring me, Alfred.

I have friends like that, too.

Cheeky... fuck.

What friends has he got?

He means the CIA.

Get to fuck.

He's only posing as
a No-Name League activist.

He's an American agent. CIA.

Evening, Daveboy. All right.

Alfie.

Same again?

Yeah.

And a bag of crisps.

Bastard.

What... What's got to her?

What's wrong with
asking for crisps?

What?

Oh.

Want some? There's plenty.

No, thanks.

I did my part.

You promised me a name.

I did.

If there was an angel
on your shoulder, she'd say,

"Turn away now, Alfie.
Walk away.

Serenity is the best revenge."

She'd be wrong.

So long as you're sure.

Go and see Baroness Ortsey,
at Bethlehem Royal Hospital.

She'll tell you who killed Esme.

Who's Baroness Ortsey?

The baroness is...

more of a "what" than a "who."

I'm here to see Baroness Ortsey.

Fill out an application.

We'll process your request
in due course

and contact you by post.

I haven't got time for that.
I need to see her now.

That won't be possible, sir.

John Ripper sent me.

Good morning, ma'am.

Good morning, Matron.

Good morning, young man.

What's your name?

Alfred Pennyworth.

Say it again.

Alfred Pennyworth.

I like your voice,
Alfred Pennyworth.

How can I help you, Alfred?

Why are you in there?
What did you do?

Oh, horrors, my dear, horrors.

Don't ask again
or I'll tell you.

You'll wish you didn't know.

Why are you here, Alfred?

John Ripper said you can tell me
who killed my fiancée.

But now you're here,
you have doubts.

Well, I was expecting,
you know, an informer.

You're a fortune teller,
aren't you?

Oh, dear me, no.

I'm a witch. Different.

I don't believe in witches and
ghosts and all that malarkey.

The truth doesn't care
what you believe.

All right, then,

who killed my fiancée?

Tell me, and I'll cross
your palm with silver.

Sarcasm is a very
ugly form of wit.

And I don't know who
killed your fiancée.

So you're wasting my time then.

Actually, you're wasting mine.

Sorry to bother you.

Who is the other woman?

What do you mean by that?
ORTSEY: What I say.

I... get a very strong feeling
there's another woman involved

in the murder of your fiancée.

Who is she?

There is no other woman.

Then I'm mistaken.

Never mind.

You're very good...
at standing still and silent.

That's a wonderful gift.

Go on.

Go on?

Do your hocus-pocus.

No, I won't.

Why not?

You're rude and cynical,
and I don't want to help you.

I apologize. Not good enough.

Well, what do you
want me to say?

Say, "Please, Madame, help me.
I'll do anything."

Please, Madame, help me.
I'll do anything.

Very well. I'll help you,

but first,
you must prove your faith in me.

How?

When the moon is full,

bring me a red rose

and the left hand of a murderer.

And I'll tell you
all you need to know.

Give over.

How about some toad's eyeballs?

You're a nutcase, you
are, or a bloody liar.

Either way, I'm a mug.

You'll be back, Alfred.

You'll be back.

Good to see you, Thomas.

Good to see you, sir.

The folks back home are eager
to hear what went wrong

with the Gaunt operation
from your perspective.

Why it wasn't
Gaunt assassinated?

Well, my man cocked it up.

One of those things.

I was... very upset at first,

but then I analyzed
the situation, and I find...

I can't blame myself.

Not entirely.

In fact,
I rather blame the Company.

I should have been informed
about all of your plans.

Should you indeed? Explain.

I asked myself, who ordered
the death of Julian Thwaite?

Not Gaunt and the Raven Society.

Not Downing Street or the queen.

No?

The Thwaites were a team.

Why kill one of them
when you should kill both?

Who benefits
from such an odd arrangement?

Only one person...
Undine Thwaite.

She becomes undisputed leader
of the League.

Thin reasoning.

Oh, I have other evidence.

I'm just giving you
the bones here.

If she did kill her husband,
she's one of two things.

A reckless fool,

or a woman with powerful friends
backing her play.

From which I conclude.

Undine Thwaite
and the U.S. government

conspired together
to kill Julian Thwaite.

Interesting idea.

That's not a denial.

I can tell you...

that we have an asset very close
to Undine Thwaite.

We control her.

Your asset's John Ripper.

I can't confirm ordeny that.

Now you get to
clean up the mess.

The U.S. congressional elections
are coming up.

America needs
at least six months

of peace and quiet in Europe.

So we need a truce between
the Ravens and the No-Names.

That's an executive
operational memo.

In the next few days,

Undine Thwaite will arrange
another meeting with Gaunt.

Our asset will make
sure you'll be there

as one of Thwaite's team.

This time, she'll offer Gaunt
a sincere and reasonable truce.

If Gaunt accepts, well and good.

If she refuses, she has to go.

Last time we spoke,
Gaunt was dead at any price.

She's scared now.

Nearly dying will do that.

She'll be more flexible.

If Gaunt plays ball, she lives.

If not, you take her out.

Me?

Personally?

Are you ready?

Yes.

I am.

You tricked me!

How's that?

The old lady's a nutter.

Thinks she's a bloody witch.

And you don't believe her?

'Course I bloody don't.

There's no such
thing as witches.

Sincerely, Alfie.

I know the baroness can help you if
you give her a chance.

If you have a little faith.

You tricked me, Mr. Ripper.

Suppose I did.

What then?

Well, then, I'm very
disappointed in you.

That's life.

I'm an undertaker.

Nobody I meet is happy.

It's so good to see you
out and about again, Alfie.

Isn't it, Mr. P?

Yes, it is.

Only...

you seem so angry.

Are you angry?

Me? Angry? No.

I'm your mother, Alfie.

I know your moods.

You've every...
every right to be upset

after what you've been through,
son.

So long as you don't...
go back to lolling in bed.

What are you trying to say?

We're worried, Alfie.

All this running about
with John Ripper.

I don't like
to speak ill of anyone,

but he is not a good man.

I'm sorry, but he's not. He's...

Well, I wouldn't like
to say what he is.

He's a bad influence.

Oh, don't worry, Mum.

I know what he is, and he's
got no influence over me.

I'm done with him,
and all that dark shit.

Got to look on the bright side.

Well, I'm very glad to hear it.

You've no need
of friends like that, son.

You've got family
that loves you.

That's right.

You remember that.

I will.

I'm sorry
I've been such a burden since...

since Esme died.

I'm gonna change.

I'm gonna get me old job back,
start again.

Put the past behind me.

Yes?

Got it.

On my way.

God.

Christ.

Hi, little brother.

What are you doing here?

Is that a real gun?

Patricia, what are
you doing here?

I need money, and you have some.

Why have you got a gun?

Why are you
back in London? The air is damp.

Good for the complexion.Oh.

Why the fuck do you always stay
in these ghastly hotel rooms?

Why don't you buy a place?
This is not convenient.

I have an urgent
business meeting right now. Don't worry.

I'm not staying.

500 pounds should be enough.

I can't give you any money,
Patricia.

You'll spend it on drugs.

And I can't look
after you right now.

Who asked you to look after me?

I distinctly told you to leave
me the fuck alone, did I not?

I believe I did. Just give me

some money and let me go.

I love you, Pat.
I don't want you to die.

That's so cute.

Why are you so unhappy?

Fuck you.

Oh. Jesus.

Thank goodness you're home.

May we come in?

Sure.

This is my sister, Patricia.

Watch yourself... okay. Is she okay?

Yep, she's fine.

She's drunk and stoned
and pathetic.

Ugh, fuck off,
you sanctimonious cocksucker.

Shut up.

Well, I know this is
a terrible imposition,

but, uh, I have urgent
business to attend to

and I can't leave her
alone in this state.

She's liable to do... anything.

Could I leave her with
you for a few hours?

I'm kind of busy.

Really?

She won't cause you any trouble.

Well, you just said
she's liable to do anything.

Well, nothing you can't handle.

I really don't have
anyone else to turn to,

you being a woman of the world,
so to speak.

How long will you be gone?

Not long.

Thank you so much. It's... Mm.

Really very decent of you.

Where the fuck are we?

Now... she doesn't know anything

about our work
together. Nothing.

How do I know you?

Yes, that's a good question.

Uh, would you mind very much
if you're an ex-girlfriend?

I can't think of a
more plausible story.

Did you dump me
or did I dump you?

Ah. Um, does it matter?

She looks like the kind
of woman who'll ask.

Well, I, I guess you dumped me.

Where am I?

Pat, this is Martha Kane,
an old friend of mine.

Now, she's gonna look after you
while I'm at work.

Please behave yourself.

All right, I have to go.

Thank you so much.

Oh, Lord...

Who are you, again?

Martha. "Martha."

Huh. Not Tommy's
usual type at all.

What's his usual type?

You know, pretty little girls.

You're more of a "modern
young woman," aren't you?

I bet you have an interesting
job and all that crap.

What makes you think
Thomas and I went out?

Why else would you let
him use you like this?

You got me there.

Still pining for him, huh?

Actually, I dumped him.

Hmm.

I'm gonna make some coffee.
Would you like a cup?

Sure.

You dumped him, huh?

Really? Why not?

Billionaire society stud Thomas
Wayne does not get dumped.

Well, there's always
a first time.

Well, aren't you fierce?

What time is it?

Uh, around 7:00.

What day is it?

Friday.

Yay.

Do you like parties, Martha?

Fabulous, huh?

Who the hell is this guy?

Aleister is a... whosit,
a satanist.

A satanist?

Don't worry, he's cool.
Nobody minds.

He's very fashionable.

I don't know about this.

You're not scared, are you?

Please.

Well, then...

Patricia.

Kiss me, you creature.

Hello, beast.

Who's this?

This is my dear friend Martha.

This is Aleister Crowley. How do you do?

Oh, I love her already.

We shall be great friends,
Martha.

Time will tell, Mr. Crowley.

Oh, she's priceless.

Thank you so much
for bringing her, Patricia.

Eat, drink, be happy.

Isn't he a scream?

Uh, let's not stay too long.

You're worse
than my fucking brother.

Live a little.

Patricia...

Can't. Busy.

Are you clear
on what's to be done?

Uh-huh.

Not dancing, Martha?

Not my thing.

What is your thing?

I'm not sure I
really have a thing.

Oh, everyone has a thing.

My thing is love.

That's not very satanic.

On the contrary.

Satan is love.

One of us has been misinformed.

In your heart,
you know I'm right.

In your heart,

you worship Satan just as I do.

Every beautiful woman does.

Wow.

You move fast.

This, uh, warlock routine,

it's all an
elaborate act, right?

Yes, of course.

Every life is an elaborate act.
Isn't yours?

I mean, you don't
really worship Satan, do you?

It's a fancy way
to seduce women.

You think
I'm trying to seduce you?

I think you'd try
to seduce a dead horse.

That's funny. I think
you're trying to seduce me.

Those sad eyes
are pulling me in.

I'm trying very hard to resist.

Broken-winged romantics

are a fatal weakness of mine.

Is that right?

It's so easy to make
them happy and whole.

But then it's so easy
to break them again.

I'm sorry about your
husband, Mrs. Thwaite.

I shan't expect you
to believe me,

but it wasn't our doing.

I don't believe you,
but I will forgive you.

I'm not entirely
blameless myself.

I hope you'll forgive me, too.

Of course.

Do you have children,
Mrs. Gaunt?

Dogs.Oh. What kind?

Two lurchers, various spaniels.

We have golden Labs.

Dogs are wonderful, aren't they?

So simple and honest.

They also eat shit.

Let's forgo the
small talk, shall we?

Your organization is
in a wretched shambles.

So you want to call a truce.

Sincerely this time?

We do. Sincerely.

Let's put the past
behind us, Mrs. Gaunt.

Let's show the world
what can be done

when two women reason together.

Let's make peace.

The country's descending into
barbarous bloody depravity.

We must turn back
before it's too late.

I agree. I agree
with all my heart.

First things first.

Order your grubby thugs
off the streets immediately,

and I'll do the same.

I suggest we draft

a-a brief joint statement

for the newspapers
as soon as possible.

Then we'll-we'll hash out
the nuts and bolts later.

Wonderful.

I'm so happy, Mrs. Gaunt.

May I hug you?

If you must.

Oh. Hi, Martha.

Patricia.

What the hell's going on?

What? Look at you.

Look at you.

You've been crying.

Because I'm happy.

Okay.

It's time for us to go.

Extra, extra!

Civil war averted! Extra!

Ravens and No-Names
declare truce!

Civil war averted!

Extra, extra! Thank you, sir! Thank you.

He's going to be trouble.

Hatchet Frank?

I hope he tries, the big nonce.

Alfie...

Yeah. I know, mate.

No trouble. Sorry.

I'm trying to act sensible,
but I'm on needles all the time.

I don't know
what to do with myself.

Ah, fuck.

Good evening.

What do you want?

I'm looking for my sister.

Seriously? Seriously.

Have you seen her?

She likes this place.

She hasn't been in.

What about Martha Kane?

What, you mislaid her as well?

They were together.

They've been missing two days.

Can't help you. Sorry.

Can't or won't help me?

Both.

I don't trust you.

Never have, never will.

Alfred, you know what I do.

I'm a fucking spy, okay?

I ask too many questions,
I tell too many lies.

That's my job.

But you can trust me.

I could be a good friend to you.

All right, I'm convinced.

I trust you.

You, my friend, are too cynical
for your own good.

If you see Martha or Patricia,

you ask them to give me a call.

Please.

Will do, Mr. Wayne.

Shut your fucking noise,
you prick,

or I'll have your fucking
balls for earrings! Calm down.

All right,
everyone stay calm. What's the problem?

The gentleman doesn't want
to pay his bill.

Is that right, sir?

You're the top boy, are you?

You think you can handle me?

I hope that won't
be necessary, sir.

Are you dissatisfied
with the service?

Yeah, the drink's piss,
and the food's shit.

Seven bottles of
our best champagne.

100 oysters.

Pay the bill.

You kiss my ass,
you skinny poof.

I've buried a dozen men that
could eat you for breakfast.

Get out!

Fuck you, mate!

Stay where you are.

Alfie!

You all right?

Yeah, not too bad.

You happy now?

Sorry, Bazza. I know
I was out of order, but...

When the moon is full,

bring me a red rose

and the left hand of a murderer.

How'd she do that?

Who is it?

Alfred. Now, I don't know
what the hell is going on,

but I brought you
what you asked for.

Alfred.

What was it I asked for?

Oh, yes, now I remember.

The case of
the strangled fiancée.

How did you get in here?

Does it matter?

No.

But I'm impressed.

Well done.

What you gonna do with
the hand I gave you?

Me? Nothing.

It's just a hard-to-get object.

Shows you're a serious customer.

Tigs likes to chew on them,
don't you?

Speaking of hands, take mine.

Tell me...

your dreams.

I don't have any.

I thought I'd be
married to Esme.

I mean your sleeping dreams.

Oh, I have 'em, but they
go as soon as I wake up.

I don't remember.

Nothing?

Scraps.

Are they scraps of good dreams
or bad dreams?

Do people have good dreams?

What do you see?

There you are, Alfie.

I was worried about you.

I was in the jungle, Mum.

It was horrible.

What did you do to me?

Nothing.

You can go now.

That's all? That's all.

Sounds like a damn poor witch.

There must be more.

Same again, lads?

Just a glass of water
for me, please.

For fuck sake, Spanish, go away.

Shh.

Alfred?

Yeah. What?

You fell asleep for a moment.

I was dreaming.

The tea.
There was something in the tea.

Of course there was
something in the tea.

I'm a witch.

My God.

It was him.

The captain.

He killed Esme. Is that it?

I don't know. Is it?

The captain.

I hope I've been of some help.

You have to go now.

Alfie, thank goodness.
Where have you been?

I was out with the boys.

All night?

: Oh, as long
as you're home safe.

Ooh, you're as cold as ice.

And you've cut yourself.

How'd you do that?

I don't know.

It's nothing.

Oh.

Those posh bastards in London
will swallow their teeth

when they see you,
won't they, Mrs. Spicer?

They'll be extremely surprised.

I am looking rather spiffy,
aren't I?

I'm that proud of you.

I wish you'd wait a bit,
though, before going south.

Get all your strength back.

I am fit as a fiddle, my dear.

Ooh, ooh!

Wreaking revenge
and redeeming your rights

and saving the country is all
well and good to talk about,

but doing it, well,
it's a different thing.

You'll overtax yourself.

No. I've never felt more alive.

More full of passionate energy.

The winds of destiny
are broad abeam.

Thank you, Bet.

Give over. No.

If it wasn't for your
friendship and generosity,

then I...

Hello?

I was... I was just
saying, Peggy,

I owe my life and my soul
to your-your deep kindness.

I shall never forget.

Go on. BET: He says he's off

back to London
soon as he's made arrangements.

Oh.

Are you sure you're ready?

See?

I've been very happy here, but
my duty says that I must go.

There's no time to waste.

Then you must go.

Won't say we won't miss you.

Will you come with me to London?

Both of you?

Really?

Well, I have a battle ahead.

I'll need loyal friends.

Friends that I love and trust.

London.

I don't know.

We'll go.

Splendid.

And then everybody
laughed at him.

Do you remember?

I do.Aye.

The captain.

Tall, skinny fella. Posh.

Yeah, that's right. Him.

I say!

Steady on, Doris.

What about him?

When we buried Spanish,

he was there, watching.

You were whistling
"Lili Marlene."

I caught his eye.
He looked away.

But for a split second,
I saw his face.

Pure murder.

I forgot all about him.

Never thought of him
all these years.

Alfred... I think it was him.

The captain, he killed
Esme to punish me.

Lots of captains
wanted to punish you.

No, I think it was him.

The witch told you this?

Well, not exactly. No.

I saw him... in a dream.

Well, more of a vision, really.

He was crystal clear, though.

He has been waiting.

Waiting all this time
to pay me back.

For embarrassing him
five years ago?

Now, look, if you could see

how he looked at me,
you'd understand.

I remembered his name.

Captain John Fitz-Smytth Curzon,

Third Battalion,
Rutland Fusiliers.

I called the Army
Records Office.

He survived the war.

That's where he lives.

Alfie,

just so we're clear,

you've no proof yet... nothing.

A feeling.

No bloodshed.

Please say yes.

Yeah.

What the fuck is this?

"Ha ha.

"A little too late, my friend.

"Don't think I'm
sorry or scared.

I'm glad you know the truth."