All language subtitles for Whitechapel S03E02 Case 1 pt2 x264 RB58

Sync and corrections by APOLLO
www.addic7ed.com

(SIREN)

We'll search the whole of London
if we have to, but we'll find him.

RADIO: Marcus Salter, 39,
six foot, slim build,

dark clothing, runs with a limp.

This man is believed
to be highly dangerous.

Do not approach him.

Murder!

Bloody hell.
Murder!

Murder!

Call Llewellyn. Get SOCO here now.

It's DS Miles. We have an incident.

In 1811, the coroner said that
'The late and present murders

are a disgrace to the country

and almost a reproach on
civilisation.'

'While the exertions of
the police, with the

ordinary power of the
parochial officers,

are found insufficient to protect men's
persons from the hand of violence.'

'And the coroner has to record
the most atrocious crimes,

without the possibility
of delivering the

perpetrators to justice
and punishment.'

'Our houses are no longer
our castles.'

'And we are unsafe in our beds.'

My name is Tom Knight.

I'm a student and I rent a room
at the Emerys' house.

Just after midnight, last night,

the lights went out.

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

Then there was a big crash.

So I ran onto the landing
and saw Bill.

Lying at the bottom of the stairs.

There was a man standing over him.

With a hammer in his hand.

The man turned around,
so I ran back into my room.

I didn't want to see his face,
because then he'd see me.

I shut my door,
I pushed my wardrobe in front of it

and I used my sheets
to climb out of the window.

But then I just ran.
I didn't even notice

I was naked until the
police found me.

Did you hear the killer come into
the house?

Did anyone knock at the door?

No-one knocked at the door

and everything was locked up tight.

One minute they were laughing
at the TV,

the next they were being murdered.

The killer just appeared
out of thin air.

(SNIFFS)

'Widen the search for Marcus Salter.'

I want every available uniform
and PCSO out looking for him.

Yeah.

Thank you.

So, the two women, Jan
and Abby Emery, were

watching television
when they were killed.

A massive blow to the head.

No struggle. No contact.

Once again, it was quick and
impersonal.

Don't expect
a forensic breakthrough here.

Just like the Salter murders.

And, again, we have one survivor.

Lola, a teenage girl.
She was out for the night.

Bill Emery was upstairs.

Hearing the screams, he ran to help.

He fell down the stairs,
breaking his right leg.

The killer caved his skull in.

The killer has left us his
footprints in Jan and Abby's blood.

He killed them first, then ambushed
Bill at the bottom of the stairs.

But he didn't go upstairs? No.

No trace of him on the treads
nor anywhere upstairs.

So Tom Knight is upstairs, sees him
and the killer doesn't go up?

Yeah.
Scared him off?

The prints stop here.
They don't go anywhere.

Where did he go?
It's like he just vanished.

Look at the prints.

Look at how the left foot
leaves a clear print,

but the right is smeared as he runs.

He has a pronounced limp.

Like Marcus Salter.

That's very useful.
Thank you, Miss Pepper.

Lizzie.

Lizzie.

Sorry.

Excuse me.

Still no sign of him?
If he can escape

from a locked cell,
he could be anywhere.

I don't believe in magic, Sean, and
I don't believe in monsters, either.

What are you talking about, sir?

There is only one way Marcus Salter
could have escaped from his cell.

You turned out the lights
and unlocked the door for him.

It's too dark for the CCTV,
so no-one sees you.

We didn't have to see you to know it
had to be you ... you've got the keys.

So?

Why would you let him go?

He... spoke to me.

He spoke about my family.
Wouldn't stop, he just

kept talking and talking,
getting inside my brain.

And what did he say?

At Hendon, they train you to cope
with threats and violence,

but nothing prepared me
for last night.

I had to let him out. What do you
mean, you had to let him out?

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

I knew I shouldn't have done it.

I didn't want to do it, but
I didn't have a choice.

You can't argue with the devil.

Go home. You're suspended.

See you in a bit.

Sssh. The doctor said
she'd given you something

to make you feel a bit better.
OK, Lola?

Nothing's going to make me
feel better.

My mum's dead, my gran and grandad.

I know, darling, and I'm so sorry.

Who's going to look after me now?

You've got lots of family. Don't
worry. You'll be taken care of.

But not like before.
They're not gonna

make me chocolate when
I wake up at night.

They're not gonna rub my feet
when I watch telly.

What if they won't drive me to school?
I can't walk, can I? I've got bad knees.

This is a terrible place.

I told them I can't drink plain water
and I'll get sick if I get dehydrated.

And the food here is disgusting.
I'll get ill if I eat this crap.

Lola? Lola?

Do you know this man?

Marcus? Yeah. Freak.

Why is that?

Marcus Salter knew Bill Emery.
Drank together till

they had a falling-out
over non-payment of a bet.

A whole family dead, for what,
20 quid?

Money is definitely the motive.

First, with his brother
and now with Bill Emery.

Where is he?

Salter hasn't been home,
hasn't seen any of his family.

Hasn't been near his work, hasn't
been seen by anyone who knows him.

Everyone in Whitechapel is looking
for him. Nothing.

He's vanished.

If he's not hidden away,
then he's hiding in plain sight.

He can't be, he hates the daylight.

Where do you go to be in
the dark in the daytime,

where everyone can see you,
but no-one can see you?

FILM: ..the key to this whole thing's
the dynamite...

Perv!

Stop! Stop, police!

He tried to run, so they're holding
him there. Who are?

Kent.

And the people from the cinema.
The bloody public? Fantastic!

Word's got out, then.

Yeah, all right.
Calm down, please.

Police officers. Let us in.
Thank you.

All right. Thank you very much.
We've got him.

Couldn't you do this on your own?

I'm sorry.
I forgot my crucifix and holy water.

I'll get Mansell to meet us round
the back. Take him to the cinema.

Get away from these people.

Get your car round the back of
the cinema sharpish.

WOMAN: There he is!

Hurry, Kent. Get us out of here.
Get us out of here.

MAN: Die! Die!

(SIREN)

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Marcus Salter has been charged
and is remanded into custody.

With all the lights on.

Good.

Well, now you've got a bit of
free time...

What's this?

Remember that SOCO, Lizzie Pepper?
That's her number.

Why? What... What? You can't...
She likes you and she's single.

You asked her?
Well, you weren't going to. No.

Well, just have a drink.

Give her a ring.
You might have lots in common.

I know you're trying to
be nice, but, really,

this is way beyond your
remit as sergeant.

Erm... I can manage my own life.

Don't lose that number.

I worked hard for that.

Who has been using my milk?

No-one touches your milk.
It's soya and it's blue.

I dye it blue, but it
makes no difference,

because someone is
still stealing it.

It's just milk, Lara.

You're all thieving bastards!

Next time, I'm putting
rat poison in it!

(HEAVY BREATHING)

You look happy.
Movie night tonight.

Poor woman. Night-night.

Meg, listen, I've booked my Judy
a bit of a spa day.

She won't want to go
on her own and I know

you enjoyed your
weekend away together.

Take That in Dublin.
It was fantastic.

Would you mind going with her?

Chocolate body wraps?
Bloody hell, yeah, I'd love to.

Thanks. She needs something to take her
mind off the scan. What about you?

Have a good evening.

(KNOCKS)
Are you doing anything tonight?

Joe, this is Charlie Cross, author
of Jack The Ripper: The Last Word.

Pleased to meet you.

And this is George Collier, author of
Jack The Ripper: His True Identity.

Hello.

This is Joe. Joe hasn't written
a book, but he is an avid reader.

What's your area of expertise?

Well, I know a bit about cricket.

Sports? Good.
We'll bat those your way.

Joe could be a bit of a dark horse.

He might give us a slight advantage
over the British Museum.

They cheat with the internet.

Isn't this supposed to be for fun?

It's not fun when you lose.

OK. Now, let's get this quiz
on the track.

Have you not put the team name down?
No.

Where are you going?
Shop. I don't have any bloody milk.

And, no, I won't get you
any chocolate.

What is the name given to
the parchment paper

used to wrap fish or meat
during cooking?

(WHISPERING)

Papillote. Two Ls, one T. Papillote.

You could become a regular
team member, if you like.

We could do with another fourth.

What happened to your old fourth?
Oh, he's over there.

In Coventry. Walter Grundy.

Hm, charming chap.

Absolutely full of himself.

He used to be team captain.
Team dictator.

He'd never take an answer from us.
Thought he knew everything.

It'd be wrong.
He wouldn't listen.

He'd write down his own answers.
Cost us the Christmas Quiz.

So we said to him, 'You
clearly don't need any of

us, why don't you go and
be a team on your own?'

We've beaten him
in every game since.

A harsh lesson,
but one which must be learned.

Like a punishment?

For his pride? Yes.

LANDLORD: Name three people
who could have been Jack The Ripper.

Oh, dear. George Chapman...

Ripper questions have always been
our undoing.

Georgie Fox said that if anyone
deserved to die it was her.

She felt she deserved punishment
for her bad behaviour.

Georgie Fox and Lola Emery were both
spoiled, selfish, young women.

The killer didn't spare them.

He wanted them to be the sole survivors,
left on their own to suffer.

So the girls are the key. I knew it.

Oh, God, that means the murders
weren't about money, at all.

Marcus Salter isn't the killer.

I think we've charged
an innocent man.

LANDLORD: ..meaning 'elsewhere'?
Alibi.

(MUSIC ON TV)

What's on?
Cartoons.

Shit.

Does anyone know where
the fusebox is? Yeah. The landlord.

I'll go upstairs and look for the
fusebox. This house looks creepy.

They were killed with hammer blows
to the back of the head.

Same ambush technique. No struggle.

It's the same killer.

Marcus Salter was in custody
all night. We're his alibi.

I'm sorry. We all hoped it was over.

We may have forensic science, CCTV
and murder-investigation manuals,

but the truth is
we're not doing any

better than the parish
constables of 1811.

Who the hell would want to steal
a cold falafel?

She's another survivor with
a self-righteous, entitled attitude.

Another girl who had to be taught
a lesson in humility.

Forget everything about John Williams
and the Ratcliffe Highway.

The girls are the key, but
they don't have anything

or anyone in common.
Their lives never intersected.

I want you to search the
archive for a case where the

murderer punished the victim
by letting them survive.

I've been doing that, but there are
thousands of cases, hundreds...

I have to go and tell
everyone what we are going

to do next and I don't know
what I'm going to say.

Joe?

I found this.

Richard Farley, California,
February 16th, 1988.

He stalked a co-worker
for four years.

Then turned up at work one morning
and shot seven colleagues dead.

To punish her for ignoring him.

That's interesting.

Our first crime scene was
a workplace.

The Emerys' was a family house.
The students shared a flat.

No work went on there.

No. No, no, no, no.

This is perfect. This is the
connection. They were all workplaces.

The Emerys had recently renovated
their house.

The student house had only just been
turned into flats and bedsits.

So all the murder scenes were
workplaces for a builder.

Find Sly Driscoll. I want another
word with him. Now. Yes, yes, yes.

(DOORBELL)

Have a look around,
see if you can find anything.

Nothing.

See who that is in the photo
with Driscoll. Yes, sir.

There's no food.
Must have been a gone a while, then.

No, I mean, there's no food,
at all. Nothing.

A single bloke, who can eat and
drink what he wants and...

there's not even a crumb here.

Maybe he doesn't cook.

No empty takeaway cartons
in the bin.

Not even an empty beer can.

There's no fridge.

I guess he lives on fresh air.

Like a ghost.

Mr Cobbett? DC Kent. I've come
to talk to you about Sly Driscoll.

Sly?

A good lad. A great worker.

He's a craftsman. He's very, very
reliable. He's of good character?

You don't find many like him,
these days.

I need a list of all the properties
that he's worked on.

Well, we do everything from
loft conversions,

basement excavations

to shop re-fits and putting up
shelves for old ladies.

We get the work and then
we sub-contract the jobs.

He's been on the books for a few years.
All his stuff... should be on here.

If Driscoll gets in touch,
let us know.

But be discreet.
We don't want to spook him.

Driscoll has worked on
nearly 200 properties.

Including all three murder scenes?

The conversion of the
Emerys' house, part of

a maintenance contract
on the student house

and he was restoring
the Salter's tailor shop.

And Driscoll had a limp.

The guy on the CCTV had a limp.
And the footprints were smeared.

Driscoll doesn't have a limp.

He can hide it when he walks,
but not when he tries to run.

He was in a car crash.
His leg got crushed.

His best mate was killed
in the accident.

Paul Ingall.

Hi, Mrs Ingall.
DC Riley. We spoke on the phone.

Thanks for coming in.
Do you want to come this way?

After you.

I really, really do appreciate
you coming in

and just answering
a few more questions.

So your Paul was best mates
with Sly Driscoll?

Yeah, they both sailed with the East End
Yacht Trust, those big clipper ships.

Paul was young

and small for his age.

Sly was like a big brother to him.
He really looked out for him.

We understand that Sly was in
the crash that killed Paul.

That's right.

Can you tell me what happened?

The girl that was driving was
called Lauren.

She thought she was the best driver
in the world.

She had this hot hatch and...

She wouldn't listen to anyone.

I remember Sly telling them
at the inquest how...

they all begged her to slow down.

But she just laughed

and went faster.

Such an arrogant girl.

They were trapped in that car
for hours.

Sly said how he kept shouting at Lauren
to wake up, to see what she'd done.

She was dead.

They all were.

Thank you so much.

They fixed his leg,
but they couldn't fix him up here.

The crash was Lauren's fault.

Driscoll couldn't forgive her
for dying.

He felt angry that she'd never have
to answer for what she'd done,

never feel guilt about it, never
suffer the loss of her best friends.

Then Driscoll met Georgie Fox.

Another arrogant, selfish,
entitled girl, just like Lauren.

He wanted to punish her,
wanted her to feel what it was like

to be surrounded by your dead
friends, covered in their blood.

And then he punished Lola.
And then Lara.

Over and over again,
he wants them to feel what it's like.

He wants to enjoy their suffering.

Hear their screams.

To do that, he has to be close.

On every occasion, the police were there
within minutes. He would have been seen.

If you don't see someone,
does that mean they're not there?

Let's get Georgie Fox back in and
keep looking for Driscoll.

Do you remember him?
Nope.

He was the builder who
worked on the shop.

He was there every
day for months.

Oh.

He was working in the shop
on the day of the murders.

Yeah, yeah. He was there first thing
doing something to the stairs.

Totally in the way. I kept tripping
over him. Drove me mad.

When did he leave?

Don't know. Lunchtime?
He was there, then he was gone.

Did you see him go?

What? No. He would have shown
himself out.

Always?

He knew where the door was.

Thank you very much, Georgie.

Georgie never saw Driscoll leave
because he didn't.

You mean, he was there all along?

Driscoll must have hid somewhere.

There's loads of places to hide.

My kids could disappear
for days in here.

But the tailors would have been
in and out.

He must have hid more out of the way,

somewhere where he
wouldn't be discovered,

until he was ready to emerge.

What's this?

Anything?
No.

(TAPPING)
What are you doing?

This cellar should be the same size
as the room above, but...

it stops short, here.

A false wall?

Well, that's just an old coal hole.

There'll be nothing behind that
but 19th-century coal dust.

If it hasn't been opened
for 200 years, we'll know about it.

Not a squeak.

What the hell is this place?

It's a secret synagogue.

Built hundreds of
years ago, so people

could worship without
fear of persecution.

It's a good place to hide.

Look.

Driscoll must have got rid of the bagels
so that Georgie was sent on an errand.

You think that you're safe.

But you've locked yourself in
with a monster.

(DOG BARKS)

Oh.

Hey.

Hello, Lizzie.

Hey.

On your own?
Yeah.

After I heard about the
secret synagogue, I

thought I'd come back here
and see what I missed.

I had to find the reason why the
footprints stopped, how he vanished.

Come and see.

Come in.

It's like he made the storage space
and then...

didn't tell the family it was here.

I suppose he waited here,

until Lola was out.

Waited for the right moment.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry. Are you claustrophobic?

Yeah.

DOCTOR: This scan will show us
any abnormalities.

Oh, my God, Ray, look.

No news on the hammer? Nothing.

We've searched the park,
the drains, the bins.

If Driscoll can hide himself,
he can easily hide a hammer.

Come on. Don't lose your energy.

We've got him on the run.
He'll make a mistake.

This is a waiting game.

Er... Everybody...

I have an announcement to make
about Judy.

It turns out that the symptoms
for ovarian cancer

can, sometimes,

be confused, in an older woman,

with, er, those of pregnancy.

I'm going to be a dad again.
Oh, no!

(LAUGHTER)

You dirty bugger.

And it's soon, too.
She's six months bloody gone!

Wonderful news! I love babies.
You're a lucky sod.

God bless you.
Yeah, all right. Ease up. Ease up.

I don't know how I'm going to cope
with a baby again.

At my age and a girl, too.
What do I know about girls?

The only girl I know is him.

What about me?

Oh, you're not a girl.
You're one of us.

Er, hang on a tick.

Have you called Lizzie yet?

Unsurprisingly, I've been busy.

Everything I have,

Judy, the kids, my whole life,

all started with a phone call.

I'm in the middle of a huge manhunt
for a mass murderer.

I can't think about starting
a relationship.

And I can't think about having
a baby, but I have to.

Life goes on.

This job will always
give you an excuse not

to make that call, not
to have that dinner.

But this job won't keep you warm
at night.

Just call her.

(CHEERING)

Come in. I'll be ready in a minute.

(CREAKS)

I'm glad you called me. Oh, I wasn't
going to, but my sergeant made me.

But I'm glad I did.
I mean, this isn't a bad thing.

I'm just always too busy to,
you know, to get around to...

stuff.

Sit down. Make yourself at home.

Do you want a drink?
No.

Where's your bathroom?
Downstairs.

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

Do you have a flatmate?

Erm... Yes and no.

He's a porter at the London.
Works nights.

So he's here in the day,
when I'm at work,

and I'm here at night,
when he's at work.

I never see him.
I only know he exists because

he eats all the food and
leaves the loo seat up.

It's like living with
a hungry ghost.

So, you live with him, but you...
don't know he's there.

Exactly.

I have to go.
Really?

Why?

(FRONT DOOR CREAKS AND CLOSES)

I thought you had a date.
It didn't work out.

You made your mind up bloody quick.

We've been thinking that Driscoll
was hiding in those houses

on the day of the murders,
waiting for a few hours.

What if it's bigger than that?

What if he's living in those houses
for days,

maybe weeks,

biding his time,

waiting for the right moment?

How could he live in the house
without anyone noticing?

They noticed that food was going
missing and blamed each other.

That's why there wasn't
any food in his bedsit.

He's been stealing
it from his victims.

He hides in the walls and comes out
when no-one is looking.

He's there when you're not.

Like a ghost.

And that's how he vanished off
our radar.

I think he has already chosen
his next victim

and is living in that house,

right now,

watching their every move,

waiting for the moment
when the woman goes out.

So that he can kill
everyone close to her.

Either we put a lock on the fridge
or we get a new nanny.

She eats as much as a grown man.

And I think she's been at
the cellar.

We are definitely missing
a few bottles.

(FLOORBOARD CREAKS)

Don't you think she's put on weight?

If you don't want to do
anything about it, fine,

but don't moan at me when we have to
pay for two food deliveries a week.

Ah! I thought John Williams
was innocent of the

Ratcliffe Highway Murders,
but I was wrong.

I told you to forget about
John Williams. But I can't.

After he hanged himself in prison,
someone searched his lodgings.

They found a jacket with a pocket
encrusted with blood,

as if Williams had
thrust a bloodied hand

into it and a knife
hidden in the wall.

He kept his weapons close?
Come on.

It might be helpful. I hope so.
Thank you.

We need to go through every job
Driscoll worked on.

A process of elimination.

Major renovations. Where there's
a chance to build a hiding place.

I'll, er, take out
all the contract stuff

and the gutters
and the broken-window jobs.

Take out any property where the
client lived on their own, as well.

That leaves about 25 properties.

That's too many. Take out any places
being developed but unoccupied.

OK. Ten.

Take out any properties where all the
occupants were men. Or the elderly.

I can't.
The database isn't like that.

Complaints.

Erm, yeah. There's a file,
but, to be fair, we don't get many.

No, not from customers,
from the builders.

Any rude or... or difficult clients?

Out of the last ten
properties were there any

overly-entitled women?
Self-righteous? Superior?

Ah. Mrs Vermillion.

She's all of them.
A lot of my boys walked

off that job and
refused to go back.

Driscoll said he wasn't bothered.
He stayed till the end.

He was good like that.
He never let anyone get to him.

What was the job?

A complete remodelling of the house.
Loft conversion.

New bathroom. Walk-in dressing room.
New nursery.

How many children do they have?

Erm, two, I think. And a baby.

Madam, get back in the house. Police.

We're police officers, madam.
Get back inside.

Your children are in danger.
Open the bloody door!

Have you noticed food going missing,
things being moved around?

How do you know? Where are the children?
Upstairs. In the playroom with Sofia.

Sofia, we've got to go. Now.

Miles, it's OK. I've got them.
We're bringing them down now.

Round the back.
Don't let anybody out.

Quickly, please.

Go with this WPC and you'll be safe.

Check that all the doors
and windows are secured.

Are we locking ourselves in
with him?

I don't want Driscoll to escape.

He's somewhere in this house.

In the walls. Under the floorboards.

Watching us.

Get him.

Downstairs. Kent, you're with us.
Yes, sir.

Well?

He's not downstairs.

Let's go.

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

Anything?
Nothing.

Right. Go downstairs
and work your way back up to the top.

OK.

(FLOORBOARD CREAKS)

(WHISPERS) Miles.

I think he's here.

No. I'm all right. Get him!

They're going to bring
the house down.

Driscoll, wait. We know about Paul.

We know you've suffered.
I understand.

You can't get out. You can't escape.

Please. It's over.

I know.

Aaah!
No!

(THUD)

200 years ago,
this would have felt like justice.

You feel cheated? He doesn't have
to own up to what he did.

He had a lucky escape.
That's his, right?

The prosthetic? Yeah.

I presume he lost his leg
below the knee in the car crash.

It's quite unusual.

It's not something
you'd get on the NHS.

Looks wooden.

I suppose he made it himself.
It's very heavy.

Yeah.
(RATTLING)

He liked to keep his weapons close.

(CLATTERS)

Oh, er, we're having a bit of a do,
to celebrate the new baby coming.

Just family, but you're very welcome
to come, if you'd like to.

That's very kind of you, Miles,
but I have plans. Really?

Good for you, sir.
I hope you have a good time.

I will.

I'd heard you'd found an arm.
We found a torso.

How did she die?
She was poisoned.

She'd have felt like she was
burning to death.

What's in that house is none of
your business.

The Thames Torso Mysteries.
The women were never identified.

I'm afraid they never found
their heads.

Sync and corrections by APOLLO
www.addic7ed.com