Ripper Street (2012–…): Season 2, Episode 3 - Become Man - full transcript

♪ Eight little whores
With no hope of heaven

♪ Gladstone may save one
Then there'll be seven

♪ Oh! Seven little whores
all beggin' for a shilling,

♪ One stays in Heneage Court
Then there's a killing

♪ Oh! Six little whores
All glad to be alive... ♪

Jack, rip em good and proper!

♪..One sidles up to Jack

♪ Then there are five... ♪

Something to wet your lips,
gentlemen?

You see? A den of iniquity.

I shall have it closed by the end
of the week! Right as ever, Walter.



Prig. I'll see to him.

So, what d'you make of it?

We're waiting for the entertainment,
Rose.

♪..Raise a hue and cry
Then there's one less... ♪

I'll be on that stage before long.

Jack's girls started on the floor,
same as me.

All's I need is to catch an eye
or two,

a rich man to be snared
and stand as my patron.

Well, then, your success is assured.

Thank you, Miss Susan.

♪..Four and whore rhyme aright

♪ So do three and me... ♪

Music hall.
It's the opium of the masses

and me and you are here for a dose
of it. We come to support Rose.



And I thought a change of scenery
might improve your mood.

Let's be having ya.

♪..I'll set the town alight
'ere there are two!

You can't hide from Jack.

♪ Two little whores
All shivering with fright

♪ Seek a cosy doorway
in the middle of the night

♪ Jack's knife flashes...

♪ Then there is but one... ♪
Come 'ere! Let Jack look after ya.

♪ And the last one is the ripest

♪ For Jack's idea
of fun, fun, fun, fun, fun... ♪

Walter?

Walter!

Help! Help! Over here,
something's happened.

Help! My friend,
he's, he's disappeared!

Sir Walter De Souza.
London City Council.

Man of influence and authority.
And known foe of the music halls.

And now snatched from within
one such.

He will scorn them the bitterer now.
Ah, Blewett!

Inspector! We are grateful
for your alacrity in this matter.

I would shake the hand
of the great Inspector Reid.

Enemies we may be
in the fictive world -

but I hope I may call you friend,
sir.

What?

You play at Ripper?

Whilst you profit!

Come, Inspector. We are artists.

And artists must hold a mirror
to the world they see.

You will see my cell
and my Sergeant's fists

beating out a confession
as to how you conspired to abduct

a city councillor
from your own theatre of vice.

No, sir.

Here you see his friend.

We care for him.

Mr Pembury, who was at Mr De Souza's
side throughout.

Good evening to you, sir.
Will you tell us what has happened?

Sergeant Drake!

Yes, he, he was here... Miss Rose.
Beside me.

The lights went black.
There was a disturbance.

The lights returned. He'd vanished.

Blewett - this darkness,
is it part of the act?

Indeed. Indispensable.

And your workers stage and serving -
all accounted for?

Inspector. If I may, I don't see
Ettie Leigh, servant girl.

And the last time you saw her, man?

I...my apologies. I only pay proper
heed to the girls I...slit, sir.

Excuse me, Sergeant. Ettie told me
she'd see to the toff.

You, Rose. As a serving girl,
you know the routine?

Like clockwork, Mr Reid.

And the lights are dimmed
for how long?

Perhaps 15 seconds.

So to exploit it, one would need
similar knowledge. Ettie Leigh?

We will find Sir Walter,
Mr Pembury. But your...

your own injuries, sir.
The blood is not his own, Inspector.

Your lackey pronounces it so.

Reid.

Take in an entertainment, do we?

Entertainment's a broad term,
Inspector.

See, we have blood leading back
through the stage door.

Regular smeared intervals.

Your boy Flight rootles around
out there already.

Knocked cold and dragged out.

I've scoured the laneway, sir.

What do you observe?

Wheel tracks, sir.

Carriage or cart? From the width
of the rim, I would say a cart.

What is it, Constable?

Er, it is excrement.
Human, I believe.

A night-soil cart? These streets
are piped for sewerage.

It was an artful escape.
Everyone would have avoided them.

Flight, throw your light over here.

Cigarette ends where an accomplice
must have waited.

Tobacco's damp. I'll dry it out.
See what brand was smoked.

Flight, the night-soil men
of London. Their numbers dwindle.

Find all those whose collections
pass nearby. Sir.

Weed. It's Datura Stramonium -
Jimson weed.

Leaf of the Solanaceae family, found
courtesy of my American brothers.

Gypsies use it as an analgesic.

And I believe it's being delivered
in a new brand of cigarette,

a brand aimed
squarely at the ladies.

'Joy cigarettes afford relief
in cases of asthma and wheezing

'and with a little perseverance,
effect a permanent cure.'

A cigarette for women?

Inspector, sir, I've the night-soil
man collected for you.

Sergeant Artherton
complained about the odour.

I thought it best, however,
not to leave him outdoors.

Mr Urwin, sir.

Mr Urwin, a man has been snatched
from Blewett's music hall.

Your cart used for his removal.

No, sir. Myself, my cart -
we are blameless, I swear it.

You shall speak, sir,
if you have affection for yourself.

My cart...it were thieved,
two nights back.

How was it thieved, Mr Urwin?

There was many of them, sir.
I fought hard as I could.

But they prevailed, in time.

Vicious, they were.
Fierce, like lions.

They were...women,

were they not, Sir Urwin?

This the reason
for your reticent shame?

It is, Mr Reid.

It is a crew of women we hunt,
Sergeant.

Oh believe me, Mr Artherton. When he
hears what I have to share with him,

he will be glad.
Do you know, Mr Best,

I keep a list of what might provoke
such emotion in the Inspector.

Indeed? Mmm.

Various painful deaths befalling
your good self feature frequently.

Quite the charmer,
are you not, Sergeant?

I do try, Mr Best.

Oh, now I feel the late hour.

Flight, put an alert out
for this man's cart.

Find its resting place,
we find De Souza.

What's that? Was that Mr De Souza?

How uncanny, Mr Reid.

I received a letter from that
very man just two hours ago,

so I have come visiting to give you
prior knowledge of tomorrow's paper.

"I, Sir Walter De Souza,
renounce any opposition

"to my fellow LCC member Miss Cobden
and her works".

The original?

How I am your friend, Mr Reid.

Mr Best. I wonder,
have you ever met Mr Urwin?

I have not had the pleasure, sir.

But I am an admirer of your work.

Mr Urwin is perhaps the last
remaining night-soil man

of this parish.

Good evening to you, inspector.

Hop it, Jimmy.

We must assume his female captors
to have forced this retraction

of his opposition to Miss Cobden.
A Miss in the London County Council?

How this city continues to evolve.

It's a novelty, yes,
but her reputation grows.

Over 2,000 votes collected in '89.

Yet more side with her now.

What exactly is this opposition

they seek to end with this
declaration of De Souza's?

De Souza has never hidden
his bile from Cobden,

or indeed any woman
that seeks office.

The first time she voted
in the LCC, February this year,

he served her with a writ.
Blocked her right to do so again.

And there is more.
If he wins his court case,

her actions will be prosecuted
as illegal.

Drake, send word to Cobden's office.

In the meantime, any and all
we have on the woman.

You weren't being kind,
about the music hall?

Come, Rose - you know I am not that.

Who'd have thought it, though.

A man snatched,

the police arriving...

Sergeant Drake.

He seem his self to you?

Happy?

Bella meets a need.

A need you would not.

You mistake my meaning, Miss Susan.

I wish the pair a, a happy union -
the happiest.

Come in.

Forgive me intruding. My night's
takings here for counting.

Rose, meet Ida,
newest to our home here.

But fastest to our gentlemen's
hearts already.

Well, I should leave you
to your business.

I would not get in the way
of Miss Susan's profits.

(I'm proud of you, girl.)

Your new thoroughbred?

Not near so sleek and lovely
as you, darling.

Captain.

Captain. One for you, two for me

and 20 for the barber,
Silas Duggan.

Would you leave us, please?
Yes, Miss Susan.

You think it wise to air your
weary gripes in front of that girl?

I just think she should know
who she's working for.

So says the police stooge.

Yeah, at least it's honest coin.
No! That's an honest pittance.

That does nothing - NOTHING -

to address our currently
calamitous situation.

Oh, yeah, and whose fault is that
current calamitous situation, Susan?

Hmm?

Who was it did the goddamn deal
with Duggan, huh?

Was it me?

There you are, sir.
Thank you.

You are not yet due, madam.
Should I be flattered?

No.
I come with a business proposition.

Indeed. Tenter Street is a concern
that makes money. Good money.

I'm aware of this. Then take it. Buy
it from me.

But it's already mine.

The premises are yours,
but the business is mine.

There would be no outlay for you,
other than a fee for my discharge -

on which you and I might agree,
and which may provide for

my husband and myself to remove
ourselves from this quarter.

It is a good and generous offer,
Duggan.

It's true, the house was a pigpen
when I gave you tenancy of it.

That house, that income
may now be entirely yours.

It will be mine - in due course.

Only should I fail to make payment.

Oh...

but you will fail,
one month or the next.

Duggan, please.

I have made you money. Much money.

Now...

I beg you, free me.

But Madam, you may with ease be free.
You have always known this.

Come - is an act from which, as you
say, you have readily profited,

yet will not perform yourself.

Some might call that hypocrisy.

Fresh bread,
baked this morning!

There are places nearby
where you can get a hot meals
and a cold drink.

Thank you, Miss.
God bless you.

Turkish, sir.
Ground with a burr-mill,

sugared and blended and akin to tar.

My thanks, Artherton.
I just saw the damnedest thing.

This woman I just
passed in the street.

No, scratch that,
she was not a woman.

Uh-huh. She was a goddess, Reid,

to make even a heathen like you
believe.

What are we to make of this,
Sergeant?

Another blend for the American,
I imagine.

You should have seen her,
she had gentle eyes, perfect face.

And the body that one imagines under
the... Yes. Thank you, Captain.

Oh, no, please...
Do continue on, sir.

I apologise, Councillor Cobden.

He is American and therefore
lacking in manners and propriety.

Well, then, we shall get along
famously.

Inspector Reid, I take it?

You cannot think me a suspect
in Sir Walter's disappearance?

I was with my political agent.

He can act as my witness if my word
is not good enough for you.

No, it is not you, but your
supporters we are interested in.

For once, the papers bear no lies.

We believe a gang of women did act
in your name in snatching De Souza.

Do you know an Ettie Lee?

No. Did you incite any woman
to action against De Souza?

To do so would be self murder.
How so?

Sir Walter's capture looks set to
ruin me. The court case approaches.

If he is not found, is not safe,

I will have lost
before I have even begun.

I made a promise to my voters,
Inspector.

I want to see it through.

And yet they would darken your name
with this criminal act.

Do not think the irony lost on me.

Tell me, what kind of woman
supports you. What unites them?

That they work. Or they have work
stolen from them.

That they are mistreated by the men
who employ them,

ignored,
dismissed without due cause,

spoken over, used for carnal
pursuits, dispossessed.

The ill-used women of this city
could number an army.

They start with a gang.

Tell me, do you keep record of
those who seek assistance from you?

It makes me feel quite the dullard,
but yes.

Then I would have you
share it with me, Councillor.

Will you have them sent over?

So, I am to be deputised to you?

I...

What's this? "Do I qualify for
badge and warrant card now?"

You men. Fast eyes through these,
if you please.

We search for women
with both heavy grievance

and frequent communication
with Miss Cobden.

Let's get to it, Sergeant. Sir.

Both men asked for Miss Ida.

Said they would pay over and above.

Good evening to you, sir. Madam.

Miss Ida. Thrice in one week.

We are flattered.

Ida, show your gentleman
to your room. Yes, Miss Susan.

That man has had my very best.

First Rose, then Bella,

and neither could lay claim
to such regular loyalty.

Along with you, girl.
See to refreshments.

Charity!

Charity, fetch a broom.
Yes, Miss Susan.

Ida,
why are you not with your
gentleman?

The gent has particular tastes,
Miss Susan.

You wish me to accommodate,
do you not?

No. I would speak with him myself.

I do not allow all
and every behaviour under my roof.

Please, Miss.
I made sure to charge extra.

Who are you?

What have you done?

Help! Help, sir!

Please, help!

What is it girl? Miss Susan.
Tenter Street,

she's been taken.

Perkins! Fetch Jackson!

Where?

Where? Ida's room.

Miss Charity...

What's happened to Miss Susan? Go!

Look, this is her earring.

Won by myself at dice.

Charity, what did you see here?
What happened?

Miss Susan...taken, sir.

I gathered that, girl, but by
who, goddamit?

Which of these sons of bitches...?

Jackson, will you just give
the girl some peace?

What's this, Sergeant? Another
mewling tart for you to defend?

Captain, Captain, gather yourself.
Look...

I do not know any man
who would spirit a woman away

into the night without first
taking his clothes.

See here? Violence used
to take whoever lay here.

Now...

who was it entertained here, girl?

Miss Ida, sir. Our new girl.

And she is here?

No. Disappeared also, sir.

Calm, now, who did you see?

I was in the parlour.

A brick came through the window
there when I was sweeping up.

But...

I saw them.

The man and Miss Susan
carried between them.

Stowed aboard a cart
of some kind, sir.

But Ida herself
was not so mistreated.

No, Captain Jackson.

She walked alongside.

Similar method, is it not?

Like De Souza and the girl Ettie
who worked there.

The brick, through the window,
a distraction also,

as with the blackout at Blewett's.
The same means of escape.

The same gang of women, must be?
And Susan just got in their way.

Look, there's some dirt here.

This man - the client - this man
is the target, the purpose.

His name, Charity?

We all look to our own, sir.

His face is known to me,
but...his name is not.

But others have known him
in the past.

Miss Rose and, er...Mrs Drake.

We must have them both interviewed.
If you would, er...

permit me to interview your wife,
Sergeant.

You... Wait! Forgive me, Miss Susan.
No harm was meant to come your way.

She wakes then?

I would have audience with
you myself. Raine, my name.

I knew I liked the measure of you,
first I had eyes on you.

Now, all the more.

Do not force me
to make you prisoner.

Friend is much more to my liking.
Friend?!

I am attacked in my house, abducted,
and brought to this hovel.

My girls.

If any one of them are harmed,
I shall slice you lip to tip.

Your premises was all
that was required.

Premises! My business!
Now ruined. Word will spread.

Which man will now
trust in the security of my house?

You do not need such as Ely.

His deeds are evil, as is the man.

You think I have no knowledge
of evil men?

Or care either which
way for their deeds?

You care for this, then?

Mags.

Ely the cause.

He might as well have
done it to her himself.

Come...

Mrs Drake. Good morning.
My many thanks.

Study each item in turn.

If we can establish the identity of
the client,

it may help us discover
Miss Hart's whereabouts.

I set eyes on that bitch Ida, I'll
smash her teeth through her jaw.

Shined.

Regular like.

Gutteridge?

Liked to see his face in his toecap.

But he were a big man...
and this boot too small.

Hitchley?

Liked to smoke throughout,
did he not?

Eridge.

Remember?

Haughty.

Always wished to, you know,
finish...

..not inside as such.

Said we was all riddled.

Mrs Drake?

No. See the embroidery.

Eridge wasn't the kind for flowers.

Ely.

Ely.

Cruel.

Thomas Ely.

His home? His work?

Lawyerman.

My dear Bella, you are brave.
You do know that, don't ya?

I shall see you tonight, husband.

Rose.

Mrs Drake.

Sergeant. Miss Rose.

We have a politician, a lawyer.

Men of influence snatched
unsuspecting from their daily
pursuits

by a gang of women,
one of whose number may be planted

amongst those activities.

We may not assume
De Souza their first.

So we must search the city's
crimes for one similar.

One which may show us where this
plotting began. Artherton, Jackson,

he studies the soil stamped into the
Tenter Street carpeting, does he not?

He pursues it still, sir.
Delicate work.

Very well.
Sergeant, you are with me.

Ah, we have another, sir.

Two weeks back. C Division.

A gentleman snatched
from his lunchtime stroll

through a department store.

A fire set off, their distraction -
a dresser girl, their insider,

she also then disappeared.

Cullington. His work?

Yes, sir. Factory foreman.

Not quite a lawyer or a politician.

No. Which factory?

The Covent Garden shoe-makers.

Before that, however... What?

..the match factory at Bow.

Cullington left after the strike
in '88.

The match-girls strike.
Quite so, sir.

During the picket, Cullington acted
as barrier

between the women and the owners.

After the settlement,

it was felt he no longer had
the support of the workforce.
The match-girls.

The match-girls. Show me a group
of women more ill used
than the match-girls.

Miss Cobden.

Miss Cobden,
she is committed to those girls.

To answering their grievances, even
though their strike is now past.

Phossy jaw! Necrosis of the jawbone.

The phosphorous
from the yellow-tipped matches

converts into biphosphonates -
these laid down in the bone

to then eat it away. Abscesses lead
to brain inflammation, then mutism.

Then death.
The Jimson in those smokes.

Taken for pain relief.

Deputations from match-girls.

Here, "They have been trying
to get the poor girls to say

"that it is all lies and has been
printed and trying to make us

"sign papers that it's all lies."

Papers. Legal papers.
Ely, the lawyer.

Papers prepared by him, perhaps?

That is the means by which the
strike was laid to rest, sir.

The girls were manipulated into
silence, promised improvements
in their conditions.

But these improvements so scant
that Miss Cobden, others like her,

some of the girls even too, refused
to accept this change in provision.

And here is De Souza all set to
bring Miss Cobden to heel and
silence her.

Cullington - the foreman who refused
to hear their complaints,

Ely to serve legal writ,

De Souza to silence their champion.
Sergeant, travel to Bow.

Find that factory manager,

hang him by his ankles over one of
his dipping vats and have from him

the roll of girls that refused to
accept his scant settlement.

Sir.

We are nearing the root
and reason of this.

Flight, fetch me coffee.

Go on.

Raine!

What game is this, young lady?!

Hide and seek.

See?

You are not alone in wishing your
girls a better measure of living.

Here, they feel part of a family.

They are thieves.

What is this improved life
you promise?

One lived behind bars?

One of freedom...compassion.

These girls have been

saved from slavery and disease
and given a place...

..a voice.

I insist on everything that was
never insisted upon for me.

Education of the self, control
of the self, respect of the self.

Rebuilding what was ruined.

Here they are turned to no-one's
account but their own. You!

You would have them
spread-legging your service

and pocket your 60%.

My girls are treated
better than any.

In my care they are tended to
when sick, have as much security

as might be afforded them
anywhere in this world!

And who profits?

It is my business.

You think yourself a woman liberated
and independent.

I do.

And what of the men who
leave your house loose and sated?

Do you think on them
and what they have enjoyed

so that you can proclaim
your liberation?

Come with me.

I've been wounded.

There was a letter-knife
in the bedroom.

Ely used it.

A needle and thread, there.

You will oblige me?

I am not one of your mulish girls.

But I cannot ask one of my girls.

I am their leader.

They may not see me so...mortal.

Perhaps you understand?

Your hand is steady.

You wonder at my scars.

First was a carriage.

Same...

one that took my mother
from this world.

Left me
with nothing but my infant sister,

Ma held in her arms.

The rest - must a woman explain
how she came by such...

stripes?

By the hands of men.

Your sister.
Is she still amongst you?

She is not.

She helped build this, however.

This kingdom of ours.

You've made all this.

You started with nothing.

I started with everything,
and yet nothing is my own.

Not such the independent woman,
then?

No.

Many's the woman
who has come down here...

..and had her vision
of the world changed.

What will it take to
change your vision of the world?

These men you have taken.

The revenge you seek.

Everything your sister
and yourself have built up -

it will drive it into the dirt.

How dare you speak of her?

What do you know of her?!

I didn't mean...

Or me. Of what we do here!

You - a woman that runs whores!

No. I will not brook
any more from you!

Mags!

You have no wish to be our friend?

I shall use you for another purpose.

May I introduce Sir Walter De Souza?

Mr Thomas Ely, you already know.

And Mr Henry Cullington.

Raine, what are you doing?

Raine, stop, please! Please!

No, Raine please,
I beg you, think of what you do!

The world will hear us now.

What will they make of you?

For surely a day will come
when not only one woman -

but hundreds will take their
fully-enfranchised position

among you
and none shall remark on it

as anything more than the everyday
heartbeat of political life.

Bluntly, sirs - if you are for
progress, then you are for me!

Forgive the intrusion, it is
born only out of necessity.

Sir Walter?

I'm afraid not, but we are close.

Here, madam - it is a list of
all the women from the match factory

who refused settlement
for their grievances.

The match-girls? Mmm.

You believe they are responsible
for the man's abduction?

And not just the one man, miss.

Please. The names on the list,
do any seem familiar to you?

Here, Agnes Thornell.

She came to me with her head
and shoulders

entirely obscured with black lace -
mourning weeds.

My thanks. We will find her.

You will not succeed, Inspector.

The poor woman
died of her phossy jaw.

Her visits to you, was she alone?

No. She led a faction.
She and another firebrand.

Well, after Agnes died,
I never saw her again.

But I always fancied
a familial closeness.

Familial?

Ah, here, another Thornell.
Raine. Raine Thornell.

Thank you again, Miss Cobden,
good evening.

Raine Thornell...

Nothing. Not a single record.

The wit and resilience
to evade the law at every turn.

Miss Susan!
I have word for you, Inspector.

Jackson? We have sent for him, sir.

Sit down. I'll get you a drink.

Jesus! Susan!

What did they do to you, darling?

Captain, a moment.
These are from separate men?

Not now, Reid. Captain.

Three right-handed index
fingers. Cut through

the digital artery...

There is word. "Have the woman Hart
carry this bag

"filled with the ransom
of 500 guineas compensation

"to Petticoat Lane, tomorrow at
four o'clock in the afternoon.

"If neither, she, nor the bag,
nor the money are there,

"Masters Cullington, de Souza and Ely
will die."

Where are they hid, Miss Hart?

My eyes were bound. I have no idea.

You have no clue?!

Hey - she answered you already,
Reid.

Let me fix you up.

500 guineas. The notion of
De Souza's imminent death

oiled the wheels somewhat.

Along with my word to the
Commissioner that it would not

leave my sight. This division
does not bow to ransom demands.

But we may allow ourselves
the pretence of doing so.

And how exactly do you
intend to hand it off?

As was requested.

Absolutely not! Goddamn it!

She's not going
anywhere except home.

Does he speak for you?

He has never yet.

No. Well...?

I shall do it.

What the hell are you doing?
You call me his stooge!

Why are you doing this for him?!

I am not doing it for him.
I do it for them.

Those girls.

Because perhaps this way
they might find a way through this

that does not involve a man
and a rope.

Ourselves and the Captain,
we will be hidden in plain sight,

alert to your safety.

You will hand the bag to Raine
and then you will turn about

and you will leave. And then we
shall follow her to wherever it is

they hide and only then, strike.

Retrieve both cash and captives.

If those men are alive,
those women will avoid the hangman.

You have my word.

You ARE a dutiful girl.

Raine, whatever your plan,
be wise, think again.

The police will take you.

You're guilty of kidnap, ransom -
your girls all of them complicit.

Please, I would not see you all
hang.

You would do better to have
a little faith in womankind.

Wait! Get off me! Get off me!
You, stay there. You, stay there!

You did not call out to the police.

I did not.

I would help you and yours.

Plenty enough girls to look to.

I do not require another.

But I come as your equal -
your friend, not your charge.

Why would you want my life?

Because perhaps now, I see
beneath the surface of my life.

I take orders from a man
to come here.

I service the needs of another
I call husband.

And yet there is another still...

a man - Duggan - who owns me.

No other soul
have I shared this with.

He seeks to trade my debt
for my flesh.

Whatever comes to pass...

..you must swear it to yourself,

that you will not cave in
to this animal's demands.

The first time changes you...

for ever. I would not
want that for you.

Reid, I swear to God,
if anything happens to her...

I swear! But what is it you fear?

You saw the pair, same as I,
close in congress.

And what exactly is your point?

That too much of this story
still remains a mystery.

One that you might still
have a hand in unravelling.

Now muzzle your temper, Captain.
Return to your laboratory.

That soil may yet lead us to her.

Forgive us, Councillor,
we are somewhat pressed.

As I can see, Inspector.
I merely wish to let you know

that the woman Raine,

I've a clue as to
where she might call home.

Her sister, Agnes,

I was not the first advocate
she sought out.

She spoke bitterly
of her home parish

where she might have expected
succour but received none.

St John at Hackney, Inspector.

Bow matchworks and surrounds.

St John at Hackney. Thanks to
Miss Cobden, our search narrows.

There are women
located in this section.

The soil burned hard and fast.

That means there's heavy residue
of organic matter within it - peat.

Fossilised microscopic remains
throughout.

That kind of dirt can only be
found in one place - marshland.

Hackney Marshes. Flight, find Urwin,

cover this stretch of ground
with him, find his cart. Yes, sir.

Gather it up, girls.

This is our compensation.

We have won at last.

We move out in the morning.

Miss Susan, you're one of us now!

For the first time in my life,
I am glad to catch this stench.

Inspector, we have found the girls.
Are you sure? Urwin, is it your cart?

Treated poorly, but, yes, mine.

House on Gilpin Road.

Artherton, fetch Captain Jackson.
Sir. Thank you, sir. Jimmy.

Where's Raine? Have you seen her?

She's gone downstairs.

Raine? Raine?
Your girls wait on you.

Come no further. I will be quick.

This I do for my sister.

You should have paid me heed.
Now you are party to this.

You would kill them?
You will all hang.

I care not. Not since Agnes.

The rot did not stop at her jaw.

It crept up into her brain,
into her skull, into who she was.

Until she did not know even me.

A sister yet stranger.

I was supposed to
protect her. Always.

You! Dare whimper like a child(!)

You who would rob
my girls of every hope!

No, no, no.

I did not... Do not touch me!

I know you understand me.

When these men burn...

you will, I hope, join us.

Now!

No! You would betray me?
You betray yourself.

To the back door.

This is not freedom.
Not for your girls. Not for you.

This is blind violence -
the preserve of all those

that have left their scars on your
back. You have become man, Raine.

No! Don't tell me I am that!

Give it up.

Give it up!

Jackson! Jackson!

Where's Susan? Where's Susan?

No!

Tell me that I am not that!

Tell me I am not that!

(Cut them loose. Cut them loose.)

(...If you kill them,
all here will hang.)

(Cut them loose.)

No! No, Raine...

No, no...

Hey, Susan? No...

Susan?

Don't touch me!

No...

Come here.

I intend to protest this outrage

to the very highest level -
to the Commissioner himself.

Come to the station with me
and I will take a statement, sir.

They killed her.
They killed Miss Raine.

If I placed you in harm's way,
madam, I am sorry for it.

What will happen to her girls?

I shall do all I can
to speak for these women.

They will not see the rope.

But you, why did you run with her?

Raine wanted the best
for those girls and so did I.

Life - it singularly fails
to reward good intentions.

We want something better for
ourselves, better for those we love.

And then...

The city, my readers and myself,
all are awash with

relief at your return.
None more so than Miss Cobden,

here at my behest.
A chance for rapprochement,

and who better than The Star
to report it? The truce.

This is how much damage women cause.

But I would rather lose
each remaining finger

than shake hands with her.

Print a retraction of
the letter forced from me.

My opposition to female
involvement in politics...

Miss Cobden, do not think him
representative of all of us.

Two more different men
I could not think of.

Where Sir Walter is so consumed
with meanness, with revenge,

you are a good man,
compassionate and right-headed.

What does this mean for you?

I rally my team,
fight the good fight -

I think you rather know the drill.

Continue on with his will so set
against you and you risk prison.

At least I'd be under
your lock and key, Inspector.

Forgive me, I am for ever in jest.

Miss Susan?

Come in, Rose. Come in, Rose.

Oh, Miss Susan.

You cannot imagine my relief

to hear of your safe return.

And...

And happiness which...

Well, is it true, Miss Susan,

what Mr Blewett says,

that you are to stand as my patron?

I would have you close to me, Rose.

Not owned yet again by another man

whose only motives are for
his own enrichment, never your own.

Then you are ever my saviour, Miss.

(No, Rose. I was never that.)

That woman... Raine.

I couldn't see her intentions

but she was a crazy woman, Susan.

I saw her. I thought she was
going to take you from me.

I thought...

I thought I was saving you, darling.

The water grows cold.
You want me to warm some up for you?

Maybe fetch you some more towels?

No. I want you to leave me in peace.

Detective Flight's face is right,
his voice righter still.

In the time available,
he's the best we have.

Good morning, Lemonade.

I'll take whiskey
from you now, miss.

- What are you offering?
- You scare me.

What do you call a dead Englishman?

A good start.

Police.

There will be peace.