Whitechapel (2009–2013): Season 3, Episode 1 - Episode #3.1 - full transcript

Georgie? Yes, sir?

Where's the food? I put it there
earlier.

I don't know where it all goes.

Georgie, be a sweetheart and get
everyone something to eat.

Yes, Mr Salter.

Thank you.

Conga

- Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!
- Oi, oi, oi!

Eddie! Oi! Eddie! Oi!

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!
Oi, oi, oi!

Hey! Less of them sausage rolls,
son. Cheers, sir.



All right, all right.

Open the door! The door is open!

Good riddance to you! Freak! Good
riddance!

Let's Get It Started

You must love that beer, you've been
holding it all night.

I'll get you another. A pint and
a half of lager and a white wine.

What makes a great detective?

Guts. Legwork. Contacts.

I was thinking experience. Yeah,
well, that comes from time.

What if you could have 200 years of
experience?

What kind of detective would you be?

One gagging for retirement. No, no,
really, listen.

What if we could use the past as a
map

to guide us through difficult
investigations?



For inspiration. Insight.

As a cautionary tale. You expecting
another copycat?

I don't think so. No, not copycats.

I mean knowing the history of crime
and using it to our advantage.

Yeah, very clever. Thanks. But you
know how I feel about books.

I was thinking we could do with a
researcher.

No.

No, no.

Yes, yes. Are you serious? Yes.

No.

Four salmon, Rita.

Oi. There's a queue.

I'm a regular not a tourist.

I don't care who you are, everyone
waits. Not me.

Bitch. Tosser.

But you could have anyone you wanted
as a researcher.

You could have a graduate, someone
pretty, brighten up the office.

Buchan has passion.

He loves crime history. And he'll
work for tea and biscuits.

Don't go back there, the bridesmaids
are getting awfully grabby.

On your head be it.

Hello?

Hello. I've got your bagels that you
asked me to get.

Hello! Come on, open the door.

This isn't funny. Open the door!

Pick up, you arseholes.

Open the door!

Please, just open the door!

Get away from me.

What's all the noise about?

Anyway, this is the last dance for
anyone still waiting to pull.

So, come on, grab someone and dance!

Go on, sir! Pick someone and dance!

Never Forget

Mr Salter?

Aiden?

Right, where's the fuse box?

It feels like it's raining in here.

My God!

My God!

You're drunk from last night. It
still is last night.

You called before I got to bed.

Did you leave with anyone? All those
bridesmaids going begging.

Focus, please.

What's this one then? The return of
Dr Crippen?

He only killed one woman,
his wife, and buried

her dismembered body in the cellar.
Swot.

Right.

So what have we got? Four dead.

One in each room. Heads caved in.

It's a massacre.
The only multiple murders

I've attended have
been of families.

Mad dads. Enmeshment...

where the murders are the extension
of a desire for suicide.

But this is different.

No suicide to be seen here.

Locks and bolts on all the doors and
windows,

a state-of-the-art alarm system. No
forced entry. The shop was secure.

Whoever did this was invited in.
Yes.

Right, everyone.

Attention, please.

Thank you.

The murders took place here, at Ben
Salter's.

Ben Salter,

Stuart Middleton,

Aiden Harris and Archie Pugh.

These are the four victims. Doors and
windows were locked. No forced entry.

It was not a raid or robbery.

The killer was invited in.
He was known to them.

Ben Salter managed to build a successful
business in a highly competitive market.

You don't do that without making a
few enemies.

We need to look at family
members and friends

who might bear a grudge.
Big grudge.

This is a huge undertaking. There's a
lot of information to process.

- Be accurate.
- Vigi...

Be vigilant.

Kent, you take the lead on all the
family and friends. Yes, sir.

Well, I've made it.

Don't let it go to your head. You're
still a civilian. Of course.

Show me where my desk is and I'll
make a start. Follow me.

Mansell. You too.

Yes, sir. Just give me a hand, could
you?

That's it.

I want you to research home
invasions, mass murders,

anything that might help inform our
investigation.

You're in here. I thought we'd be
sharing an office.

It's the Met's crime archive.

It was being digitised, page by page,

but then the budget was cut and the
project was shelved.

It was going into storage, so I
volunteered to take it.

Do you know what you have here?

This is treasure.

I knew you'd like it. I will be like
Atlas,

carrying the weight of your
investigations.

It's been dumped in no particular
order. Just a huge mess.

Hi. DC Meg Riley. Pleased to
meet you.

Riley is an historical re-enactor, so
you should have a lot in common.

What era? War of the Roses. Always
the busty wench.

Well, henceforth you will be known
as Beck and Call.

Now... who's going to fetch me a
coffee?

Who would want them all dead?

I don't know.

No-one.

You make excellent suits.

All bespoke?

That's right.

Who are your customers?

Stylists... working for bands.

We do a lot of skinny indie boys.

And artists.

It is Whitechapel, after all.

And businessmen.

You know, Russians.

What kind of business? I don't know
Russian business.

Did Ben Salter have any... unhappy
customers?

No. No complaints, grievances...

No, you don't understand. Ben was an
amazing tailor.

He could make any man look twenty
pounds thinner

and three inches taller.

Everyone loved him.

He only made friends, not enemies.

All the guys were lovely.

The only person who wasn't was me.

I thought I was better than everyone
else.

I went to St Martin's and everyone
came to see my final show.

I've been a cast-iron bitch my whole
life.

I've never cared about...

the people I've offended or... upset.

If anyone deserved to die last
night, it was me.

In the 19th century autopsies took place
in the pub surrounded by gawkers.

Thank God some things have changed.

Like DNA? The crime scene is a
business,

customers in and out, tradesmen, you
name it. It's a forensics nightmare.

Plus, they were attacked from
behind.

No chance to defend themselves.

No struggle. Each one was ambushed.

So no physical contact
between killer and

victims, except for
the weapon itself.

Four dead and there's nothing we can
use? Wait.

Each blow to the head was delivered
with such force

that part of the skull was pushed
into the brain, leaving a hole.

Which is good for us cos that hole
is an imprint of the weapon.

A hammer.

Find the hammer. Find the killer.

What have we got?

Lots of friends. Lots.

Hundreds on the social networks.
Plenty of real ones too.

No enemies. From what I can gather
Ben Salter's an all-round nice guy.

Complicated family though.

Dad, John, has family
from the first marriage.

They've been arguing over money.
Normal squabbles or motive?

I don't know yet. His family's huge.

OK.

Good work. Thanks.

Miles?

Yes, well, we're racking them up.

One of the apprentices, Archie Pugh,
was a cokehead.

He had debts. He owed quite a lot of
money to a lot of people.

We've got the names of interested
parties. Could be worth a look.

Who are the others? Yeah... Aiden
Harris.

He got into a fight in a club a week
ago trying to break up an argument

between his mate and one of the local
crew with a reputation to keep up.

Threats were made but he didn't take
it seriously. Maybe he should have.

Yeah, maybe. We got uniforms
rounding up the faces. We'll see.

Customers? Yes.

Artists, a few bands,

a couple of dodgy Russians that
we'll have a look at.

Otherwise, we'll see what the
door-to-door brings up.

All right.

Where's Buchan?

Ed. What time is it?

It's so easy to lose track down
here.

It's six.

I've missed lunch then. Never mind.
We're swamped.

Too many possible suspects. Too many
unknowns. I need your help.

My travails have unearthed a
fascinating case.

Two hundred years ago, not more than
a stone throw from where we are now,

the Ratcliffe highway murders were
committed.

The murders were a sensation.

How does this help me? A shop girl...

sent out for oysters after
midnight...

returns home to find her employer,
Timothy Marr, a linen draper,

and his family, massacred in their
own home.

This could be our precedent.

Hello, son, my name's DC Mansell. I
don't suppose your mum's in, is she?

DC Kent, Whitechapel police.

Hi, DC Meg Riley, I wondered if I
could talk to you for a few moments.

About them murders, yeah? I'm afraid
so, yeah.

Everyone's saying the killer isn't
human. Why are they saying that?

Everyone knows that house was like a
fortress. That's not entirely true.

They say the killer gets you when
you turn out the lights.

Now everyone's afraid of night
coming.

OK.

Have you got anything on how the police
caught the Ratcliffe highway murderer?

There were no police.

There were. The Bow Street runners.
I know my history.

Their job was to patrol the streets
and make arrests

but, crucially, they did not know
how to investigate or detect crimes.

The thing is the police didn't exist
Not in a way that we'd recognise.

There was a parish constable paid
for by the local magistrate,

there were the watchmen paid for by
the local guilds

and there were the runners.

No detectives. No.

And no concept of forensics.

And a belief that a man's good character
was synonymous with innocence.

No forensics. Good character.
Walked free.

I heard everything.
Don't you worry.

There's families freaking out.

I've got three people naming the
same suspect. Who?

Jinn... as in ancient Arabic demon.

Hello, police, can we talk to you,
please?

Hiya, DC Riley...

You've just been mugged.

Knocking on the door.

After you, Riley.

I know why you're here and I know
what you want to know.

That's lovely, thank you. How much
do you want what I have?

Well, if your information proves
useful to the inquiry

then I'm sure you'll be in line for
a small reward.

Don't mess me about, love. Up front.

Well, that's all I've got.

No way.

Here you go.

I saw the devil walking in
Whitechapel.

I thought you guys had clocked off.

Do you... do you do this every night,
sir?

What? No. Of course not.

That would be strange. What are you
doing here?

A witness looked out of her back
window an hour after the murders

cos she heard the sirens.

Lots of people were
heading towards the shop.

But she saw one bloke
going in the opposite

direction to everyone
else In a hurry.

She thought it was odd. Everyone was
going to see what happened

except for one man going the other
way. He had a limp too.

Which made it easier to find him on
CCTV.

Told you.

Morning. Miles?

Is everything OK at home?

Yes. Why?

Well, the bags under your eyes tell
me that you...

you haven't slept very well.

You haven't shaved again so you were
rushing,

probably getting the kids ready for
school which is normally Judy's job.

Don't play the detective on me. I'm
not trying to be nosey.

I'm just concerned about you, that's
all.

Judy's not well. What?

Women's problems.

And her mother had the same
symptoms.

And it didn't end happily.

What the hell is this? OK, phones
off, everyone.

- Usher, lights, please.
- Usher!

It's a bit dark.

How do we use... History?

By not making the same mistakes.

In 1811 Margaret Jewell was the shop
girl

who left the Marrs alive to shop for
oysters and returned to find them dead.

She was a significant
witness but because she

repeatedly fainted
during her testimony,

the coroner abandoned any attempt to
question her properly.

Why did she faint? Was she ill?

Or did she have something to hide?

I put it to you that Margaret Jewell
knew the killer

and let... him... in.

Thank you.

Georgie Fox, sole survivor.

Did she let the killer into the
house?

What's he doing? He's dug his grave.
Now watch 'em push him into it.

What's her motive? What does she
gain from it? We looked at her.

Financially she had
nothing to gain.

No romantic relationships.
No grudges, no scores to settle.

And she was locked out of the house.
The PC had to break in.

She was lucky not to die that night.
Exactly.

The shop girl was overlooked
in the investigation.

Do not make the
same mistake again.

Especially since...

there was another foul massacre a
mere twelve days later.

So you need to hurry. You're taking
the history too literally.

The cases aren't identical. This
isn't a copycat.

There's no need to scaremonger.

Charles Manson, 1969...

sent his family of disciples to
kill for him.

Ed. They murdered six at Sharon
Tate's house

then slaughtered the LaBiancas too.

Multiple-victim serial murder is
rare

but when it happens it is a blood
bath.

The killer may strike again. My
office. Now.

Have I done something wrong?

Can't you see the sense in what I'm
saying? Isn't this why I'm here?

I've worked hard to gain the loyalty
and trust of my team.

I earned their respect by
making tough decisions

and taking risks.
You're one of those risks.

If I'm undermined and second-guessed
in front of them, I lose that.

I meant to cause no embarrassment.

If you have any information, like,
for example,

an historical precedent of a second
murder, you tell me... first.

Yes, Joe.

Sir.

Having second thoughts now?
The minute you

gave him a laminated ID
you created a monster.

He's settling in, that's all. Speed
bumps.

He's out of the box and you know it.
He's under control.

It won't happen again.

Look at the footage and see if you
recognise the man with the limp.

I don't know him. Are you sure?

Look properly. It's important.

If I don't know him, I don't know
him.

The man in the CCTV may have
murdered everyone you worked with.

Don't you want to help?

I don't know any cripples, OK?

Good to see you're back to your old
self.

This place really is a fortress.

Still, a maniac got in.

Scary. Bet the killer knocked and
Ben Salter knew him.

Locks won't help if you invite your
killer in.

That's like vampires. You have to
invite them in.

And then they bleed you dry.

This place is going to need new
floors.

It's a shame. Some of it's been
recently restored.

A carpenter's been working here.

Hammers.

Hammers.

Mr Driscoll?

DI Chandler. And DS Miles.

Yeah? I'd like to ask you a few
questions about Ben Salter.

God. Shocking. I can't believe
that.

It's awful, even for round here.

When did you last see Mr Salter?

Day of the murders. Yeah, I was
there in the morning.

I just can't get my head around it.

Did you notice anything unusual that
day?

No.

I was working on the stairs.

No, everything seemed fine.

And where were you that night? I was
at home.

Anyone who can vouch for that? No. I
live alone.

Do you mind if we examine some of
your tools?

Yeah, of course. Which ones do you
want? The hammers.

Because the killer...

Yeah.

I can't work without my tools.

We'll return them as
soon as we possibly can.

There was something.
Mr Salter wanted the place

doing with traditional
materials and techniques

and then he went and spent a fortune
on security,

on window locks and alarms,

even though they weren't in keeping.

Why would he do that? Because he was
scared.

Sir. Sir, we know who Ben Salter was
afraid of.

Who? Last year he had to go to court.

He was summoned as a witness to a
mugging of a kid by a local gang.

Six of them were found guilty and
sent to young offenders.

The gang leader was known as Wilkie.
He served his sentence and returned

but his turf had been
taken over by a rival

gang and he was forced
out of the area.

He has motive, revenge and a history
of violence.

Georgie Fox's page.

A school trip to Hever Castle.
Georgie is sitting next to Wilkie.

Wilkie has a grudge. Georgie lets
him in. Good work. Let's find Wilkie

You'll never let me forget, will
you?

Because of my history, every time
there's a crime you look me up.

Why do I have to keep answering for
what happened years ago?

Statistically, you're likely to
re-offend.

Georgie Fox. What about her?

Good friend is she?
She's a dark-sided bitch.

I haven't seen her since school.

She worked with Ben Salter,

Stuart Middleton, Aiden Harris and
Archie Pugh.

No.

I won't let you put my name on that.
You were angry at Ben Salter.

He put an end to your gang, your
little empire.

You were forced out to the arse-end
of London and you wanted revenge.

So you got Georgie Fox to let you in
so you could kill 'em all. No!

I don't hate Ben Salter! I owe him
everything!

Calm down.

Daniel, sit down.

Go on.

Tell me what you mean. I should be
dead by now.

All the men in my family have died
on the streets.

No-one ever made it to 21.

I thought that was my destiny, so
that's the way I lived my life.

Then I lost my crew.

I moved away.

I got a job. I met a girl.

And now... I've got a baby on the
way.

It was my birthday last week.

I'm 22.

Ben Salter wasn't afraid to stand up
to me in court.

He saved my life.

Do you believe in redemption? Yeah.

Anyone can change their life for the
better... just not criminals.

Ed?

Thank you for coming.

You found something?

A warning from history.

You've just arrested Ben Wilkie but
beware.

An innocent man hanged himself
because of the Ratcliffe murders.

Are you sure?

The police arrested John
Williams because he knew

Timothy Marr and was at
the Williamsons' house

on the night of the second
murder, had no money

before the murder and had
some silver after it.

Strong circumstantial evidence. But
he was open about visiting them

and had pawn tickets to account for
the money.

His connection to the Marrs was
tenuous at best.

I'll read the file. John Williams
committed suicide in prison.

Please, Joe,

don't let history repeat itself.

Done and dusted.

'Night. See you in the
morning.

Movie night tonight. Yeah, what
are you watching?

We never get to watch the films.

I said I'd sleep with the kids.
They're scared of killer bogeymen.

What about you, Emerson? Night on
the town? No, I'm staying in.

All my flatmates are out. On your
own? Don't turn the lights out.

Nighty night. 'Night.

Miles.

Would you like to go for a drink?
Um... I'm sorry, I can't.

Judy, you know. Of course. Send her
my best.

Are you OK? Absolutely.

Good night then. Yeah, 'night.

'Night, skip.

Can I do anything, sir? There's no
overtime in it for you.

I don't mind.

Everything all right?

Local people are saying that the
killer's some kind of evil spirit...

a jinn or an aswang that can create
itself out the darkness.

You can't be irrational.

You can't start thinking
superstitiously.

Look...

Come with me, there's something I
want to show you.

John Williams, the man accused of the
Ratcliffe highway murders,

was buried here after he committed
suicide in prison.

He was buried here at a crossroads so
that if his tortured spirit emerged

it would be confused and not know
which way to go.

They dumped his body in a small pit so
he'd feel discomfort for eternity...

and drove a stake through his heart
to prevent his soul from wandering.

They thought they'd captured a
bogeyman.

John Williams wasn't a bogeyman.

He may have been innocent.

Circumstantial evidence,

an hysterical public...

and terrible fear.

They made a mistake.

We can't afford to be wrong about
Wilkie.

Wilkie finished his shift at the
kebab shop

and went to wait for the N551. That
bus would take him down the highway

and past Ben Salter's at around
midnight. Yeah, but look, skip.

The bus was late. He's still waiting
at the time of the murders.

Fast asleep.

Hello, mate. Can I get one of these,
please?

Thank you. Cheers.

Lizzie, your visitors are here.

Lizzie Pepper. Hi.

DI Chandler.

I'm DS Miles.

I... Sorry.

I... Sorry.

I couldn't find any blood traces at
all

so then I ran tests to see if the
tools had been cleaned recently.

Negative.

Dr Llewellyn provided us with a
mould taken from an imprint

in one of the victim's skull and
brain.

None of the hammers fit. They're too
big.

Well. It was worth a try.

Thank you.

Thanks.

Thanks, Jill.

Miss Peterson, DC Mansell, how can I
help?

Sorry I didn't come in sooner.
It's OK, you're here now.

Relax. Take a seat. No, thanks.

Listen, on the night of the Salter
murders

I... I caught a cab from the Strand.

The driver was ranting about how he
shouldn't have to drive a cab

but was cheated out of a lot of
money by his brother. OK.

So what makes you think he's
connected?

He was really aggressive and he
freaked me out.

I didn't feel safe with him so I
asked him to stop the cab and I...

I took a picture of his ID before I
ran away.

I was just glad to get away from
him.

I didn't think about it again until
today when I looked at the picture.

Thanks for this. Do you mind if I
take a copy?

Who alibied Marcus Salter? I haven't
got to him yet. He's on the list.

Well, move him to the top.

Police, stay where you are!

He's blacked out the windows. Get
off me!

Marcus Salter, I am
arresting you on suspicion

of the murder of Ben
Salter, Stuart Middleton,

Aiden Harris and Archie Pugh.
Read him his rights.

Yes, sir.
Bag up his things. Sir.

Come on. No!

My eyes!

My eyes!

My eyes!

My eyes!

He has photo what? Photophobia.

A symptom of a genetic disorder. If
he's exposed to bright light

he'll get a crippling migraine and we
won't be able to interview him.

So he cabbies at night. Yeah, and
sleeps during the day.

The time is 7pm. I'm DS Miles.

I'm DI Chandler. And the suspect...

Please state your name. Marcus
Salter.

Turn it up a bit. I can't hear it.
Turn it up.

You... have a limp.

Part of the spectrum of my illness.

I have weak joints, prone to
dislocation.

Being thrown to the ground by your
lot doesn't help.

Ben Salter is your half brother, is
that correct?

Yes.

Tell me about him.

I'm not sorry he's dead if that's
what you mean.

Why should I be sorry? Ben ruined my
life.

How did he do that? He was born.

He was the perfect, beautiful son
and I was the freak.

He got all the love and attention. I
got nothing.

When I wanted money to
see a specialist in

Switzerland my dad
said it was a waste.

He said I was incurable.

But when Ben wanted a fortune for
his shop,

well... they gave him everything,
didn't they?

Are you incurable? Yeah.

My heart is dead.

Nothing you can do about that.

Did you kill Ben Salter, Stuart
Middleton,

Aiden Harris and Archie Pugh?

I thought about it.

But then someone beat me to it.

Right, mate, that's you.

Are you afraid of the dark,
Constable Pinchin?

You should be.

Salter has motive, he's made threats
to kill

and we can place him in the area at
the time.

He isn't sorry they're dead either.
No remorse, no confession.

A night in the cells will put things in
perspective for him. He likes the dark.

What? He's not sleeping upside down
like a bat.

Despite his front and bravado, we've
got him. Exactly.

Go home. Get some rest.

Now I lay me down to sleep...

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

And if I die before I wake...

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Have you said your prayers, Sean?

How's Judy?

She thinks it's cancer.

It's difficult to tell her otherwise the
way the doctors frown and pat her arm

and tell us nothing except, 'See you
after the scan.'

And you?

How are you coping?

I'm all right. Come on, we've got a
whole bottle here.

Talk.

She's always there. I get home,
she's there.

If I want to be alone
she leaves me alone.

If I want company
she's by my side.

In 15 years she's never told me what
to think.

She's backed me up even when she
knew I was wrong.

She lets me be me,

doesn't make me feel guilty about
it.

That's why I can't lose her.

To find someone like that is
incredible.

Don't get me wrong, she can't half
nag.

Why haven't you ever married?

That's personal.

But there are ways nowadays. Civil
partnerships.

No, God. You just don't... you don't
get it at all.

If that's not the issue, then what
is?

I am a very particular man.

I like to have things a certain way.

I'd rather live alone than try to
accommodate someone who...

who doesn't understand that.

I can't change.

I accept that that's the way it is
and always will be.

DI Chandler. What is it? The
prisoner's escaped, sir. He's gone.

He was there at ten and when I went
to check him just now he was gone.

From a locked cell?

This is impossible. Nobody
disappears into thin air.

Well, he has. So where's he gone?

Dad.

Murder! Bloody hell.

I have to tell everyone what we're going
to do and I don't know what to say.

I have an announcement to make about
Judy.

Three more people are dead! Why? Why
would you do that?

So where did he go? It's like he just
vanished.

Like a ghost.