TURN: Washington's Spies (2014–2017): Season 1, Episode 2 - Who by Fire - full transcript

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Corrected version

All clear.

Mount pickets and keep a watch.

Bring hemp, wrap the officers.

Bury the rest...

over there.

That as Thou hast raised up my body

from fast and sound sleep,

so also Thou would deliver
my mind from the sleep of sin.

Did they change the prayers
for middle sleep?

I'm praying for us.



Before first sleep,
second sleep,

morning, afternoon,
and night again.

Don't you see
that this plague is a sign?

- Mary...
- God is sending you a message.

Look, it's not a plague.

It's maggots. They happen.

Perhaps it's the Lord's grace.

We can leave here and move in
with your father at Whitehall

before winter comes.

Come here. Come here.

Look.

You see that?

We still have over half our crop
stored safe in the shed.

I'll haul it to the green
tomorrow and sell it.



How much will that make?

It'll be enough to make it
through the winter.

Then what about spring?

We'll have nothing left
to reseed the field.

We're not moving in
with my father.

Did we wake you up,
little man?

Come here, come here.

Shh, shh, shh, shh, Shh.

Here, I'll show you something.

What's in here?

Oh.

What's this?

Ooh.

Pirate treasure.

Pirate treasure.

Yeah, your pa's
made arrangements.

Huh?

Our little secret, though,
eh, Sprout?

Abraham!

Luke! Jeremiah!

Oh, mercy!

Get back inside!

♪ Hush, hush ♪

♪ There's snakes in the garden... ♪

♪ Soul for sale... ♪

♪ Blood on the rise ♪

♪ Hush, hush ♪

- ♪ I can't wait anymore ♪
- ♪ Soul for sale... ♪

♪ I can't wait anymore ♪

♪ Hush, hush. ♪

Did anyone else see them?

No.

They wore masks of Guy Fawkes

like the ones the soldiers are making
for their bonfire night.

Could've been soldiers,
could've been anybody.

A royal officer gets his throat slit
and the killer walks free,

and there are many in this town believe
you got away with murder

because you are my son.

Look.

What is this?

You accused me of lying
to you in your house

and you were right.

I wasn't robbed by rebels,
as I told the major.

Instead, I cut my own scar,

I buried the silver by the shore,
and I used the silk to sell my story.

Now, I did all those things...

but I did not kill Captain Joyce

nor any other man in my life,

and nor will I until God meets me
for judgment.

This is the profit
from your smuggling?

I undertook a risk

to take care of my farm
and my family

on my own terms...

when I should have
accepted your offer to help.

I knew in my heart
you didn't do this.

That's why I kept
your name from my list.

What list?

Major Hewlett will have
justice for Captain Joyce.

He requested I make a list

of the most likely
and suspected individuals.

Well, now that we know
that it's not me,

maybe the next rogue
on your list

is the same bastard
who fired my farm.

The next name on my list
is Anna Strong.

And before you protest,
acknowledge the facts.

Following the brawl with Joyce,
her husband was imprisoned

and her estate made vulnerable,

and she's always been someone
who acted without thought.

- Now may I protest?
- No.

No.

Bring in Guy Fawkes.

Whoa.

Here's to defeat.

Everyone's speaking
of the ambush in Connecticut.

Looks like your message
got to Ben.

Captain Joyce.

He was quartered
in your home, was he not?

Joyce, aye.

In the room Captain Simcoe took.

Won't have to worry
about either of them now, do we?

You may have
to worry about Joyce.

My father believes
that you killed him,

and he plans
to say so to Hewlett.

I need to look through
the captain's belongings,

try and find something
that can tell me about the man.

What?

I don't know exactly.

I mean, he obviously kept secrets.

Why else would he walk to Lewis Field

in the middle of the night
to get his throat cut?

His trunk is in my home.
I'll look through it.

For now, let's celebrate.

Captain Simcoe's gone to heaven
and we did that.

More rum, please.

Can't get the ball out.
At least with my knife.

Then let's toast to that.

He's awake now, ready to talk.

He's ready to die, yeah?

Hey, you didn't promise Abe
this lobster would vanish, all right?

I did.

Look, there is a greater
obligation here.

Someone has been whispering
into the enemy's ear,

and the only ones that
knew about the location

of that safe house
were ranked well above me.

Yeah, and him.

You truly think that Captain Simcoe,
last week Lieutenant,

is gonna know the name
of a turncoat in our buff and blues?

Huh?

He's low on the chain, Ben.

Yeah, he may know enough.

We'll have a surgeon
attend to his leg at camp.

I'd like a word
with the captain now.

A word?

Do you suppose pain
will rob me of reason?

Oh, I should hope not.

You should not hope.

It wastes your time and my rum,
of which there is little left.

I'm afraid I--

Even given the tragic state
of the Continental Army,

this is no way
to detain a fellow officer,

which is howl know
that after our "word,"

you mean to extinguish me.

You may as well do so now.

This rum tastes like piss.

Think they'll stop him in time?

It'll be more interesting
if they don't.

What's the name of the dead man
that told you I was here?

Funny you should ask.

I believe you misplaced one of those

to an intrepid young dragoon.

Where?

I told you, a rebel safe house
in Connecticut.

After you turned me down,
I turned to another,

a warden of some backwater
in Long Island.

He sent 20 men.
Apparently not the right men.

That bonnet was found
with their corpses.

Perhaps your precious
source in New Jersey

is having a laugh.

Sounds like
your ambush was ambushed.

I intend to...

reexamine New Jersey.

I thought you might be interested
in a trip to Connecticut,

seeing as the bonnet
doth bellow for revenge.

What's the name
of the backwater?

Oh, some little fish town

you've probably never heard
of called Setauket.

"My dearest captain,

when last we were together
under the stars,

I felt you were
holding back your true feelings

and most tender words.

There is so much I wish
for myself to say,

but I thought better
to wait until you spoke first.

Please forgive
my forward nature,

but I must make
my feelings known to you.

It is my great happiness
that this war would bring us together

and my great agony
that I cannot spend

each day and every night
in your embrace."

And so on like this for a while.

But let me get to the telling part.

She writes, she cannot wait for Joyce
to sound retreat here.

"For even though it be end of day,

mine ears hear reveille
in the rising sun."

"Sound retreat."

"Sound retreat."

That'll be their signal.

Like the petticoat
I hanged for Caleb.

Yeah, it's clever 'cause Captain Joyce
could have the regiment's drummer

sound any alarm he wished
to test readiness, so sound retreat--

And, at the same time,
signal to meet under the tree at Lewis Field.

Exactly.

Why do you suppose
that trysts are always held under a tree?

It was good enough
for Adam and Eve.

It was good enough for us.

Tell me, Philomena,

how did you come
to be a player?

I admire you.

What skill.

Oh, I merely pretend
at the heroics, sir.

You live them out.

Now I can say to my friends

that I was paid a compliment

by Major John Andre
of the King's Army.

Tell me, how many men
are under your command?

In a way, the whole theater
of war falls under my concern.

I'm special adjutant

in charge of gathering
intelligence, you see.

Oh?

I divine what the enemy
plans to do before they do it.

General Howe applies his
military strategy on the field

with the discipline
and precision of a science,

but what I do...

is closer to an art.

Mm.

Now, if the prospect
of a lone woman

overpowering a royal officer
is too much,

I submit Mrs. Strong
could've hired a cutthroat

from some nearby port
to do the deed.

The matter of Captain Joyce's
death will be addressed,

but my priority now
is to secure this garrison.

This loss has made us
vulnerable to attack.

- Sir?
- Yes?

A Major Robert Rogers
from New York to see you, sir.

Major?

That's a letter of introduction

from your friend, John Andre.

Ah, well, the famed Robert Rogers
needs no introduction.

Welcome to Setauket, sir.

This man here is our local magistrate,
Richard Woodhull.

- Major, it's an honor.
- Thank you, Richard.

Now, you must be tired
after your journey.

Perhaps you would
just like to rest

or have a proper discussion
over dinner.

Here about the business
in Connecticut.

I should like to question
your officers who ran the raid.

They are dead, sir.

Not all of them.

Captain Simcoe is still missing.

Then I should very much
like to question him.

It says there that you're
to give me what I require

so that I may find the chalker
who left me that.

Yes, I did wonder why

a cap of the Queen's Rangers
was found at the ambush.

It was left for me

by a young cavalryman

who felled one of my men.

And 19 of mine.

All by himself?

Obviously not.

How many of them was there, then?

Ah, you don't know

'cause you didn't count the tracks,

and you buried the bodies

that could tell us the tale,

except for them highborn lads

who paid for passage
back to London Town.

Upon reflection,
I do not believe

I shall be able
to host dinner tonight.

Please accept my apology.

You fancy that I wish to spend
one more hour than necessary

in this clammy province?

I should like
to question your officers.

Here they are.

All pickled in rum.

- The barrels are sealed.
- Not for long.

You said only three
were recovered.

Who's the fourth?

That would be Captain Joyce.

Who in the hell's Captain Joyce?

He was a troubled officer.

He was found murdered
in a field here last week.

I'm examining
the situation very closely.

His death is not
connected to theirs

and should be
no concern of yours.

Oh.

So you think it bad luck, then,
his murder so close to theirs.

- I think a coincidence, yes.
- "Coincidence"?

I've seen all manner
of strange things in this life,

but never one of those.

Now, why don't you tell me all about
troubled Captain Joyce?

Thank you,
Captain Tallmadge.

Tallmadge?

That's one of the family names
where I'm stationed.

You must hail from Setauket,

like your man here, mister, um...

Caleb Brewster, Your Grace.

I do apologize for my
ill manners before.

It was my leg talking.

Again, the apology is all mine.

You had every right
to doubt my intentions.

Now, then...

to business.

What is it you wish to know?

Oh, nothing, sir.
We already know all we need to.

Truly?

You know where we mean to strike
after retaking New York?

We know you have 4,000 men

stationed at Throgs Neck in Brooklyn

as part of your occupation force.

4,000?

Try six.

Well, it doesn't
really matter how many.

You'll never catch Washington anyway.

Ah, yes, the old fox.

Well, it's not my duty to bag him.

I leave that to the brothers Howe.

Oh, of course, though
I suppose General Howe

might be slowed a bit
by the ash pile in the city.

Ashes dissolve in the sea.

Our navy is not only the mightiest on Earth,
it is the fastest.

But where will it sail?

Well, I suppose it doesn't matter

because you already know.

I'm sorry.

"Mock not nor jest
at another man's misfortune

though there seem
to be some cause."

No, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!

It's my turn now.

Hey, hey, how much wood
would a Woodhull haul

if a Woodhull
could haul wood?

It's good to see you came down.

Thought you might not.

- Yeah?
- Well, we all heard about your accident.

Oh, right.

That was no accident.

No, I just cooked up
the rest of the cabbage

that my maggots didn't want.

Well, you're loyal to your friends.

Glad to see you here.

Are you surprised as well?

Judge Woodhull, is this your son

I've heard so much about?

Major Rogers, I don't believe
I mentioned my son.

You didn't.
Robert Rogers, Queen's Rangers.

Abraham Woodhull.

Why don't you fine gentlemen
let me buy you a round

and we shall drink to friends
and traitors alike tonight, eh?

To the enemies of our country,

may they have cobweb breeches,

a porcupine saddle,

a hard-trotting horse,

and an eternal journey.

So, then, what brings
a legend of the frontier

here to Long Island?

Ah, the Rangers go where needed.

Our quarry be those most dangerous
to His Majesty's rule.

General Washington?

Ooh, we'll get him.

But I am now after a man

more deviant
and difficult to track.

Hides not behind an army,

but a thicket of lies and deception.

So you've come here
looking for a single man?

Perhaps.

Though like all good plots,

there's usually
more than one involved.

Ask your warm friend,
Guy Fawkes out there.

Though usually it's only one man
who takes the credit

and the infamy.

Or immortality.

Oh, beautiful. 1605.

In commemoration
of the 5th of November act,

Parliament issued,
Amsterdam struck.

Passed to me for my services
in the Seven Years' War.

- Mm.
- Huh?

"He who concealed himself
is detected."

Madam, will you drink with us?

- Actually, I have to--
- Oh, no, no.

Please sit.

I was just telling
these good gentlemen

what a fine, uncommon
town you have here.

Uncommon?

Well, for such a tiny hamlet,

there's an unusual amount of smuggling,
arson, and murder.

You're speaking now
of Captain Joyce.

Aye, he's part of a riddle
I'm trying to solve.

A captain lay dead in a field.

One week later,
20 of his men lay dead

in Connecticut
with no enemy casualties

to save their honor.

How did this occur?

I suppose the answer to that
lies in Connecticut.

The old fella brought me here.

- What old fellow?
- Him.

Tells me there's something
corrupt in this town.

- Something concealed.
- I agree.

As you must have heard,
I was suspected

of the captain's murder for a time.

Although I was cleared of all suspicion,

the accusation still vexed me greatly.

So I took it upon myself
to look into the riddle

of the man's death on my own.

- You what?
- You've also likely heard

that the captain
was billeted with Mrs. Strong.

And while she was
cleaning his room,

she discovered a hidden letter
addressed to Joyce.

Mrs. Strong, the letter?

The letter.

It is unsigned,
but it seems to be

from a secret lover here in Setauket.

When did you find this letter,
Mrs. Strong?

This morning, sir.

And why did you go to Mr. Woodhull?

Why not straight to Hewlett?

I...

I thought...

I thought, well...

That's all right.

I was in love once myself.

Unfortunately married at the time, eh?

Then you agree with me.
That if Joyce was done in,

it was by the husband
of the letter writer.

Let's ask Captain Joyce.

All right, let's get him out.

So, here is the gash

that did him in,
across the gullet.

But here is another second stab,

more like a first, done with a short blade.

Means he turned his back
on his killer.

Means he trusted him.

That's why I thought
Captain Simcoe first, eh?

You think that--

you think that
Captain Simcoe did this?

The only officer
not found at the ambush,

and a man who inherited
the captain's captaincy.

I thought him the serpent I seek

until I read your letter.

Then I knew it could be a woman

done with a paring knife
or a letter opener.

And most likely
we were just with her

and have given her fair warning.

Now-- now, wait.
You didn't read the letter.

The letter she gave you.

She found it.
It mentions a signal by drum.

- Sound retreat.
- Yes, exactly.

And there are four
other women by my count--

- Your count? What count?
- Gentlemen...

By my count of those
who work and live

close enough
to hear the company drum.

Good, good.
So there's four of them.

Now, which of those four

would Joyce likely
dip his wick into?

Well, there's...

Hannah Ketcham, who's 74.

Or Loretta Brewster,
who's plagued by palsy,

and that leaves only...

Maarten Dejong's wife, Klara--

And Anna Strong.

So there's two.

I think I have a way to settle this.

But it makes no sense
to sound retreat at this hour.

The men will be confused,
but the culprit will be alarmed.

- That's what I want.
- Well, I won't allow it.

Captain Joyce had you
play roll call on some days,

sound retreat on others.

Captain Joyce was the finest officer
I ever served with.

But he made you play drums
at odd hours.

To keep the men
on their toes, he'd say.

There was nothing improper.

Thank you, Clayton.
This is foolish.

And after it's done,
so is my work here.

You have my word.

Play.

Which one is Klara?

That one holding the lantern.

Well, it's not Klara.

Major, I wish you well
on your travel back to New York.

You sure you can afford that?

I know it was you.

Meet me where you
killed Joyce, midnight.

We can discuss
where to go from there.

That's far enough.

What do you want, Woodhull?
Money?

I've not enough
to cover your blight.

All I want is for you to admit

that you killed Captain Joyce
last Monday right here.

I thought you were gonna
say you had some proof.

If I prove that this is
your handwriting...

you'll be put to death for buggery,
never mind murder.

Where did you get that?

He kept it hidden.

He protected you, John,
and you killed him.

No, you killed him.

You-- you and Selah Strong.

See, it was just like that.

I never even knew I drew it.

Then Selah started
the fight in the tavern.

The fight that they
blamed Charles for,

that he blamed me for.

It was the last night
we were ever to meet.

And I knew his words,
I knew his words.

What he said,
he didn't mean it.

And when he turned, I just--

I didn't mean to.

Is that what happened?

You don't know what happened.

Yeah, you were just supposed
to be a scapegoat, is all.

- That's all you are.
- And so you burned my crop

to keep the people thinking
that the town hated me.

That's why I wanted to burn it, yeah.

He actually thinks
you did the deed.

What?

Who's he?

A loyal drummer.

I told him, "Woodhull got away with it.

Woodhull's father's got him free.

Woodhull's laughing about it."

Woodhull!
He just confessed to it!

Crush that cull!

- Crush it!
- Wait, stop!

Hang on a second!

You didn't tell me there'd be two.

I-I-I didn't know.
I didn't know.

P-please.
Please, sir, have mercy.

Shut your hole.

- Shouldn't we--
- Shh, something ain't right.

Don't look so pale, Molly.

We just caught
Captain Joyce's killer.

- What?

Must've resented playing
at all odd hours.

Wait, you just-- you just
heard this man confess.

I heard all sorts
of strange tales today.

Sounds that fade away...

tracks that lead nowhere.

And a smell.

Oh, there's something
rotten in Setauket,

but it ain't you.

Oh, you're an aberration,

one that could be of use
now that we know your shame.

I'll do anything.

I know. You'll keep your eyes
open and your trap shut

and you'll look and you'll listen

and you will sniff out
the rot in this place while I'm away.

See? I'm gonna
keep you alive, Robeson,

as the lowest
form of life there is.

Lower than a sodomite
or a serpent's belly.

A spy.

My spy...

reporting only to me.

No Hewlett, no Regulars.

Now, if you attempt to flee,

Mr. Woodhull here will notify me

- and I will find you.
- No, Major.

- Mr. Woodhull.
- Listen, wait.

I want your word as a gentleman

you'll keep our little secret

until we put Washington's head
in a noose.

And then we'll put that
little bugger's head in one.

I know it's detestable business,
looking after a spy,

but it is a task that you

shall have to endure
for the king.

Aye?

Come to! Come to!

I'm not done with you.

Now, you can make this stop.

But I hope you don't.

It must be its own torture
to live like you do.

On the run.

So close to your home,

and yet not able to set foot in it.

Except it isn't your town, is it?

It belongs to our king.
By rights.

It's the arrogance of the colonies

that you forget this.

That's why I joined the Royal Army.

To remind you...

in Guiana, the Caribbean...

...and now New York.

I've enjoyed reminding you
all over the world.

I think we're done here, Ben.

No.

I'll do it.

- General, sir.
- Move!

My God, it's true.

- Let him down.
- Please, sir, allow me to explain.

I've come straight from Fort Lee
upon hearing a disturbing report.

I will be returning there straight away.

You will return with me
to face disciplinary charges

and most likely court-martial.

- Sir, please, I can explain--
Enough!

You shouldn't have used
your own dragoons.

Sir.

I apologize for the treatment
you have received

at the hands of a captain
under my command.

You should know that
we treat fellow officers

with respect,
whether captive or not.

You can expect the proper courtesy
to be afforded to you

from this moment forward.

Thank you, General.

Please don't go too hard
on Captain Tallmadge.

He's been a perfect gentleman.

I wish you could stay.

Moi aussi.

Can you at least tell me

where your next secret
mission will take you

so I can dream
of you there?

I've just completed my mission--

the recruitment
of a young, talented agent

willing to apply said talents
in service to the crown...

for the aim of ending
this reckless war.

Tell me...

have you ever been
to New Jersey?

I saw your signal to meet.

What is happening
around here?

First, your father
and Major Rogers tell me

I'm to report to the church
in the morning,

and then I go,

and Rogers and his Indian
are riding out of town.

Well, he won't be back.
Not for a while.

And now there's
a rumor around

that the company drummer
killed Captain Joyce.

- How does that make sense?
- It doesn't.

Right, because then
who wrote the letter?

All I know is...

that the person who wrote that letter
was living two lives.

I've seen where that
double life can lead.

It's straight to hell.

What have you seen?

I've seen that a signal
can be detected

no matter how secret it is.

I don't want you hanging
petticoats for Caleb Brewster anymore.

Abraham, don't be hasty.

Look what we've
accomplished so far.

Captain Simcoe's body
was not found in Connecticut.

Getting rid of him
was the sole reason

I risked talking to Caleb,

and now he may still be alive?

We have accomplished nothing.

And I won't risk you further.

It is too dangerous for us to meet

or even see each other.

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