Original subtitles

Jack Ramsey's died.

I'm sorry, Eva. You'll be prosecuted for murder.

I have written a tract which identifies all the water sources

within Five Points at risk of contamination.

You'll find this a little more exciting

than your husband's strain, I think.

I'm looking for a Detective Corcoran.

My name's Teresa Trembley.

Arrange for Teresa's hiding, now.

Remember that she only just learned her sons died.

And what happens when she learns

the truth of those deaths?

Did you explain to Mr. Lansing that his regrets came too late?

I did. With pleasure.

- Proceed. - No!

You want the gloves to come off? Then so be it.

No!

♪ Christ the Lord is risen today ♪

♪ Hallelujah

♪ Earth and heaven in chorus say ♪

♪ Hallelujah

Episcopal hymns.

Sound like swine being led to a slaughter.

Simply awful.

Captain, your men will shutter Eva's Paradise tonight.

Yes, sir.

How is it going to help Eva if we close her business?

She'll go broke. - Once again, you fail to see

beyond the parameters of Five Points.

We are offering those Greenwich Village bigots

a sign of good faith.

This is bigger than one lowly immigrant.

That lowly immigrant made the Paradise home

to half the 6th Ward, including you!

- Chain of command, Corcoran. - Jesus Christ almighty.

I'm sick and tired of your saintly bullshit, Detective!

Now, either you get your lowly immigrant arse in line

and do as I say, or I have no further use for ye!

Why can't you pull rank and get Eva out today?!

He's a lawman who believes in the law until it affects him.

"Pull rank" you say, hmm?

We will exonerate Miss Heissen by legal means.

She's going to need capital to afford a proper lawyer,

and I plan on securing both.

Do you not trust me, Kevin Corcoran?

I was going to ask you the same question.

Hey.

He was snoring.

Always snoring, sleeping on his side.

So I took a tenpenny nail

and I swung the hammer hard as I could.

So here I sit, waiting to hang.

Sure gives you time to think, no?

Miss Heissen?

J.E. Lovrich, attorney and savior.

A man of contradictions.

As amusing as your quips might be, my time is short.

I come to you with an offer. $5,000, and I'll take your case.

$5,000.

Yes.

Mister, uh...

- Lovrich. - Lovrich.

I don't have that kind of money!

If you wish to afford my services,

Mr. Sutton, rising real-estate investor, holds the key.

Ahem.

You'll see that I have calculated

all assets in all aspects of your...

saloon, Miss Heissen.

With due respect, my offer is firm.

I will not negotiate.

You're asking me to sell the Paradise?

Everything I own?!

Madame, our professions are not all that different.

Good service does not come cheap.

How did you know I was here?

General Donovan insists that the Queen of Five Points

remain atop of her throne and away from the gallows.

♪ Raise your joys and triumphs high ♪

How long can they go on for?

To Lieutenant General Grant!

Richmond has fallen!

The end of the Confederacy is near!

To Lieutenant General Grant!

- Cheers! - Cheers!

Police! We need everyone out, now!

Everybody out! Go on! Close it up! Keep movin'!

What the hell's goin' on here?

Eva's Paradise is closing up shop, Richie.

Corky? Look, no questions. Just go.

Where? We live here.

- You'll sleep at the precinct. - Come on, out.

- Get out! - Let's go, top hat.

On to Richmond.

Isn't that what we Union men used to say?

There's the door. There you go.

Today Richmond is ours,

and you turn your back on all your brothers

who fought and died for this hour.

You're all copper now.

No Union corporal would ever steal this night away from us.

That's enough. Move on.

♪ Hallelujah

- Lola! - I've got room in mycell!

Mr. Donovan's not here, but he should be back

momentarily, if you'd like to sit.

We'll wait in there.

"Where a malignant and a turbaned Turk

beat a Venetian and traduced the state,

I took by the throat the circumcised dog,

and smote him thus."

Who reads that shit?

Sounds like someone who don't speak English no good.

Or like that drabble from the, uh,

Bartlett kid's suicide note.

No.

No, I thought we were here for Eva.

Corky, just 'cause he's got the same book

as some dead rich kid

don't mean Donovan's involved with anything.

No, it doesn't, but I need you to go back down to the precinct,

pull the Bartlett murder file from storage.

What are you going to do?

I'd like to talk to Donovan, alone.

Why do I get the feeling you're about to make

all of New York quake?

Considering that Mr. Lansing has sent word

that he has chosen to instead commence construction

on a dam outside Buenos Aires,

the only qualifying bid that remains

is that of General Brendan Donovan.

Gentlemen, please!

We will reconvene in two days' time,

at 9:00, at which time

the board will hold the final vote on the sole proposal.

- Congratulations, General. - Thank you, sir.

Congratulations, General Donovan.

The sisyphus of Five Points

may make his way to the mountaintop after all.

Thank you, Mr. Morehouse. I'm a firm believer

that a contract is not closed until signed.

Alderman Stonington wishes to meet with you privately.

I do suggest that, for the good of your proposal,

you take the man up on his offer.

Tomorrow night, my home?

Oh, you must mean your son's home.

What time shall I arrive?

7:30 should be fine.

Mrs. Morehouse. Mrs. Morehouse!

James, answer me this.

What hangs at a man's thigh

that wants to poke a hole it's often poked before?

Oh, I don't know.

A key.

♪ Christ our Lord

What is the use of this instrument?

Called a cytoscope.

Used to examine infections in urine in the bladder.

This goes inside a man's...?

Say what you came here to say.

I have failed you.

Your medical tract-- I cannot publish it.

Oh, Major.

No.

"Major" is a title reserved for one who deserves respect.

Robert, I am tired of you and your uptown bullshit--

the lies, the deceptions,

the broken promises that your people--

Do not generalize.

Have I not been charitable enough

to pay for your medical practice?

And what of reuniting Sara with her mother?

Friendly acts, yes,

eclipsed by greedy exploits of the general public!

I have tried. I am still trying.

- Trying to do what? - To become...

something, someone, who--

Children and the elderly are dying,

while you line your pockets with cash!

Now, tell me, what are you buying with that blood money?

Another bottle of brandy? A new suit?

I sure as hell hope it's worth the life of a child!

God damn you, Freeman.

This bandage was clean when I first examined him.

It's now stained with blood. Purple splotches on the face.

The eye is bloodshot.

The other eye, if he had one, would be the same,

but it was an open lesion, so the blood had a way to escape.

Through the stab wound, hence the bloodstained bandage.

What of the frothy spit at his mouth?

Same as the eyes and face. When you abruptly cut off

a man's oxygen supply, this is the result.

All telltale signs of suffocation.

Corky, without evidence...

Cut off a man's oxygen, you said?

Well, look at that gleeful grin.

What are you going on about?

Ma-ma!

Well, if you must know, I met someone.

No, not like that.

A man, though.

His name is Tommy, like your brother.

Would you believe he has been working for JD?

The field hand?

Except, JD is not on the plantation anymore.

He livin' up north of here.

Got an apple orchard all his own.

My Lord!

Good for him.

Yes.

I had the most curious moment, Sara.

It dawned on me.

I was standing in the store, buyin' food...

and nobody had sent me.

I went there on my own accord

because I wanted flour, I wanted rice.

I remember that moment,

except I had a bag of sugar under my arm.

Ha! You and your sweet tooth!

I see you and Matthew going about your life,

doing whatever you please.

It's beautiful to watch.

I just...

I-I'm unsure of what to make of it all.

You'll know soon enough.

Tell me about your new friend, Tommy.

He said that up north of here, there's these skinny lakes,

that they just stretch for miles,

and they call 'em Finger Lakes,

'cause they long and slender like piano fingers.

Look like they belong to the hands of God.

JD's orchard is at the edge of one of 'em.

Lake, um, "Cacanagah." Wait, wait. Lake C--

- Canandaigua. - That's it! That's the one!

Well, Tommy goes up there every summer,

and then, in the fall, him and JD,

they pick apples off the trees.

"There's nothing like autumn, Upstate New York," Tommy said.

"October will break your heart.

You never want the days to end."

Then he smiled and offered me a job to work.

I had to laugh-- an old woman like me,

workin' the land for the first time.

I said, "I was in the house, Tommy."

I would like to see those beautiful leaves

one day, though.

You settling in okay?

I suppose so.

I mean, I'm grateful for all of this.

I just never saw anyone die before.

Watching alderman Bartlett...

the struggle...

him gasping, convulsing...

Just the images keep circling in my mind.

I can't make them stop.

Sorry.

Don't be.

You've been goin' through some tough times, Teresa,

but you don't have to go through them alone anymore.

What is it?

You remind me of someone.

Who's that?

Just... from my past.

Years ago in Ireland, when I was a wee lad.

And?

It's only I haven't thought about her in years.

Do you miss her?

I didn't, till I met you.

Line by line,

the words match Bartlett's suicide note.

Hey, Glynn!

Get these back down to storage, would ya?

Right away, Detective.

So Donovan and the Bartlett kid like the same lousy poetry.

You have a lot more faith in coincidence than I do.

I got to ask. Donovan has been acting peculiar lately.

Anything you can tell me about your past together?

Business, the girls,

whatever type of business you two have on the side?

Does he get his hands dirty

or does he-- does he hire outside for that?

Do you realize that I'm-- I'm trying to help you, right?

Because, from what I see,

Donovan's assistance, it only brings you losses.

First, he shuts down the Paradise,

and then he wants you to sell.

He did what?

He's the father, isn't he?

Corky.

Be careful.

Donovan is not a man to be trifled with.

Schedule my carriage for 7:00.

I'll be going to the Morehouse mansion on West 23rd Street.

Yes, sir, Mr. Donovan.

Detective Corcoran. Mm.

Just the man I was hoping to find.

I was out of line yesterday. Hmm?

The lads in the 6th precinct hold you in such high esteem

for the very characteristics I criticized.

Truth is, you're a finer copper than I ever was.

I was just noticing your old badge.

Hmm. Some of my fondest days.

I wanted to tell you, I've been realizing

that you were right all along,

about police work being easier than I make it.

In certain cases, yes, but--

The lines are clear. Black and white, good and bad.

We serve, we bring the bad in for justice.

It's simple-- retribution for crime.

Isn't that the most satisfying part of the job--

the retribution?

Absolutely.

You see? I'm still learning from you yet.

I thought you just asked me to formulate a lie,

one which I will state as fact,

in order to scare General Brendan Donovan,

because you have a hunch he may be up to no good?

Are you going to tell me this is the first untruth you told to a higher rank?

What if you're onto something, Corky?

Have you reached the level of confidence

at which you think you can depose a Tammany ward boos?

Just, please, do me this favor?

Don't worry about any fallout, alright?

And what of implicating me into this scheme of yours?

You are a millionaire, Major Robert Morehouse.

Tammany Hall needs people like you to keep this city afloat.

Soon, a new New York for its new people.

And what of this city's past?

Men such as we laid its foundations.

You cannot change history.

No, but I can control its future.

An Irish Napoleon in our midst.

Do remember, General Donovan, as committee chair,

I control when, and if, the aqueduct vote happens.

The vote is to be tomorrow morn.

Yes, but, first, I need to meet with my esteemed brother,

who runs a highly regarded engineering firm.

By any chance, is your brother Kenneth Stonington?

The very same!

Uncanny.

My research tells me he's the best.

I had no other in mind to which to offer

the engineering venture of the aqueduct.

I can only hope your brother will accept.

I'm certain he'll be interested.

Shall we take a recess from business?

The neighborhood is afire with whispers

of last month's scandal.

Christ, which scandal?

It seems the Bartlett family is unsatisfied

with the way the police handled the deaths of Alderman Bartlett

and his son Benjamin.

They have gone as far as to enlist the governor's office

to reopen the investigation.

Hmm.

Sorry to bother you.

Matthew around?

He and Sara went out.

Did he leave a report for me, by chance,

with the name Jack Ramsey on it?

He didn't mention anything,

and I never heard him say that name.

No, I don't see anything.

Alright.

Evening.

I don't believe I thanked you properly

for helping with Ellen's wake.

No need to, sir.

I appreciate all you did,

dressing her and making her up.

It was beautiful, even joyful,

how everybody came together to say goodbye.

It reminded me of a wake at the plantation.

Never thought you could compare an Irish wake

with a Southern slave wake.

Oh, they're more similar than you know.

The singin' and dancin', a celebration of life,

pathway to heaven.

You see, as a slave, a funeral tells you that the dead,

their lives had dignity and meaning, beyond unholy bondage.

My wife was no slave, but she was oppressed by guilt,

and, I guess,

you can run away from that oppression, the bondage,

but there's always a chance it'll catch up with you,

like my Ellen and your boys.

My boys?

I know living in this city must be hard for ya.

Even now, stood next to an Irishman you know yet little,

an Irishman you've been very kind to,

but, still, a man who is of the same race

of the men who lynched your boys.

I thought for certain

drowning was a terrible way to die.

I lay awake at night, praying that their last moments

were peaceful and painless,

but beaten, lynched, set afire?!

- Mama-- - No, stay away from me, child!

I do not want your touch! - Please.

I was just trying to shield you from the hellish truth--

My sons escaped the bondage of the South,

only to die here, at the hand of savages!

Keep it down, will ya?!

You tell me what the point of risking life for freedom was.

We should've told you, yes,

but know that our dishonesty came from a place of love.

I trusted you.

I invented the lie.

For you.

For me.

Because I thought that you would need it as much as I do.

They were my babies!

What kind of woman has this vicious city turned you into?

Where's the file for the Bartlett case,

Benjamin's suicide note?

How many times are we going to have this dance?

Look, I'm not playing the role of the asshole captain now.

Donovan is pissed.

Your job is on the line.

I searched through storage, and it was there yesterday.

Today? Nothing.

The governor's office sent a man

down here tonight to pick it up.

They're taking over the investigation,

privately, meaning, without you.

That was fast.

What?

Watched the autopsy today.

Jack Ramsey was murdered, suffocated.

So, now, you're chasing two stale cases,

Bartlett and Ramsey? - Are you covering for him?

For Donovan.

What in hell are you talking about?

One case. I'm only chasing one.

The Bartlett evidence.

Did you tell Captain Sullivan who you were?

Robert Marchant, from Governor Fenton's office.

Ah.

Family murder/suicide.

Tragic, isn't it?

I had a brother, Gregor.

He was younger than me.

And I realized

I haven't thought about him in a long time,

but, since I'm in here, I have these haunting memories of him.

When my brother Gregor was 9 years old,

he didn't even flinch in the face of death.

He suffered coughing fits and fevers.

He didn't even waver.

On his last night,

Gregor told me and my sisters goodbye,

that he loved us, and then he was gone.

There was no fear.

No fear.

I got no fear of dying.

Hell, this life was sure miserable enough.

How much worse could the next one be?

Next?

What if there's no next?

I've spent months staring at these dingy walls,

lying in utter darkness.

If there's nothing but black for me after I hang,

it ain't any different than what I got now.

What'll I care, being dead, anyway?

I have yet to see your bride tonight.

I'd rather not discuss the matter.

As you are aware, tomorrow morning,

General Donovan will be awarded the bid

for the new Croton aqueduct.

He has presented us with offers for each of the properties

we own in Five Points.

Generous offers.

Why would Donovan want more Five Points real estate?

He has plenty.

Plenty is never enough.

Besides, geographically and pragmatically,

the realty's in the way.

Construction of the aqueduct

will raze the majority of the neighborhood,

at which point-- - One moment, Father.

Donovan's going to level his own ward?

And we're going to aid this act,

his displacing the very constituents

he claims to protect?

You had no such protest last autumn,

purchasing the Mother AME Zion Church

during our efforts to demolish that cesspool

to build a new downtown.

Robert, you'd better soon decide where your values lie.

Like a circus performer, you walk a tightrope.

On one platform, a life of blind naiveté,

a life which you seem to believe virtuous.

On the other platform, reality, our business, your future.

Let me guess, Father-- the longer I walk the tightrope,

the higher the likelihood that I fall.

Mrs. Morehouse.

Lie down here.

No, stay there.

Yes.

Yes.

Now, relax.

Should the doubts surrounding the Bartlett case

be made public, such scandal will disturb Tammany.

I understand, sir, but--

The organization's primary focus

is to benefit our city, our people.

We cannot jeopardize all that's been gained

over one random slut.

Once she's gone, the past will remain in the past.

Mr. Donovan, is there no other option?

Send her away, pay her off. - Do you have a problem

with your orders, Detective?!

For I seem to recall you sacrificed two women

to cover your own misdeeds, hmm?

Forgive my lack of compassion for your newfound sensitivity,

but I don't give a shite

and I possess a LeMat revolver and two bullets,

which, I am confident, don't care either.

You will kill Teresa Trembley tonight.

Am I understood?

Hey!

You should be good for a while.

I got your bread and your sausages,

and a bit of cheese there.

Tell me, Francis, who was she?

A childhood darling.

Maeve was her name.

I was only nine, but first love an' all.

You got the same curious eyes, always watchin',

wantin' to know more.

Before I left Ireland, we made a pact

that we'd see each other again.

I made a lot of promises I never made good on.

You'd like to see Maeve again.

Let me be your Maeve.

The way you are...

No man has ever treated me this well.

You deserve better than that, Miss Trembley.

You deserve the best.

Francis.

I'm not the best.

Far from it.

The last honest kiss I had only led to sorrow.

I'm leaving this city.

I don't know where I'm supposed to be

or what my life is supposed to be,

but this-- this Five Points,

it's yours, it's not mine.

If I were brilliant, Mama, I would think of a way to say

that I'm sorry so that you could forgive me.

I know why you did what you did.

I will always love you, Sara,

and there's nothing that can change that.

I wish I hadn't have lied.

Wantin' to carry heavy truths for the sake of others

is what we do when we feel brave and whole...

...something I used to be, I need to become again.

Where will you go?

I don't know just yet.

I held North in my heart so long,

I gave y'all up to it.

But this-- this ain't my North.

Maybe I'll take Mr. Tommy up on his offer

and go see JD's orchards and those rolling hills.

Canandaigua Lake?

One of God's fingers.

I hope you find your freedom, Mama.

No! No! No! No! No! No!

Please, please, God!

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Please, please, let me live! Let me live!

Please! Give me another chance!

No, please, please, I don't want to die!

I don't want to die! Don't!

Let me live! No! Please!

Please, just don't kill me, no!

No!

Doctor.

About my shop window.

Ah-ah-ah.

This makes you feel better, does it?

Waste of energy, you ask me.

This puzzle is not coming together!

Maybe there ain't no puzzle.

Men in power always want more.

Same goes for men with money.

They'll do anything to pump the well.

That's how it is, it's always been.

Mankind?

Doesn't change.

So your ramblin' philosophy of man

means that Donovan's crooked?

Philosophy don't matter, but he is.

And, if you're willin', I need your help.

I got myself in a big pile of shit, workin' for that man.

I don't know what Donovan wants, or what he's trying to do,

but there's a big trail of blood behind it.

They had me shake down Orrin Lansing.

"They"?

Donovan's got a guy, a right-hand man.

I don't know his name. - And what happened with Lansing?

A late-night visit that broke him.

In return, Lansing killed your man Milo O'Hearn.

That's why Lansing skipped town.

No. Donovan believes in mirrored punishment.

Jesus Christ.

And, Corky,

I've got your one Teresa Trembley in hiding,

but, tonight, Donovan ordered me to silence her.

I can only imagine he's trying to protect his own ass.

You see, Teresa knows who killed Alderman Bartlett

and, right now, all the signs

are pointin' up the ladder to Donovan.

Goddamn it, Francis.

Has Detective Maguire been taking good care of you?

He's been most kind.

Ah, that's good, that's good.

Unfortunately, Miss Trembley,

our detectives have been unable to locate anyone

who matches the description you gave

of the alderman's wretched murderer.

I'm at a loss, I-- I told you everything I know--

his height, his eye color, his hair.

That suit.

And please understand, I want to believe you.

I-I'm sorry.

And, yet, I feel you may have information that may be useful.

For instance, why would you regularly open your legs

for the Alderman Stephen Bartlett,

a fat man, far from handsome?

Perhaps his...

dagger was more...

voluminous than average.

- Alderman Bartlett and I-- - Shh, shh, shh--

- No! - It's alright.

It's alright. I know all.

Don't be ashamed.

We all have secrets,

some are just dirtier than others.

For instance, I recently discovered

I am to father a child.

Would you believe it?

Congratulations, sir.

Why, thank you.

But your secrets, Teresa, darling,

simply happen to be more foul.

To kill Alderman Bartlett.

No, I--

I didn't kill Mr. Bartlett.

And his son.

No!

I never met his son. I--

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

Shh, lass, shh.

Shh.

Do you know why I felt I could tell you

that I am to father a child, a secret

I've shared with no other until this very night, hmm?

No.

Because I knew you would not speak of it.

Because, sadly, you'll not have the chance.

Teresa!