All language subtitles for Whitechapel.S04E03.1080p.AMZN.WEBRip.DD2.0.x264-herkz

(LAUGHING)

Woah!

(FOOTSTEPS)

Happy Birthday, Joe.

It's to protect the wearer
against witchcraft and
evil charms.

Thought it might bring
a smile to your face.

Obviously not.

It's very thoughtful, Ed.
Thank you.

That's it, Eddie!
Look, look, look!

It's two hands
but it's the only way...
Argh!

Sorry, sir.

(CHATTER AND LAUGHTER)

(SHOUTING AND SCREAMING)

(CHEERING)

(SINGING)

(GIGGLING) or (LAUGHING)

You're pulling
my ear out.

Come on, Sabine, I'm busting.

You go then.
I'm gonna cut through.

-My feet are killing me.
-Text me when you get in,
yeah?

Yeah.

(CHEERING)

(WOMAN LAUGHING)

(GRILL SIZZLING)

(PANTING)

(PANTING CONTINUES)

(MOBILE RINGS)

Where is your daddy now,
little girl?

(MACHINE POWERING OFF)

(DOOR SLAMS)

Who's there?

(SCREAMS)

-PHOTOGRAPHER: The clear one's
here.
-MAN: Good. Cover this area.

It is definitely human?

I'm afraid so. Male.

Probably chloroform.

Could it be surgical?

Doubtful. I've done this
procedure myself
hundreds of times.

When you know what
you're doing it's just
like peeling a satsuma.

But this was done in haste
and with a certain
amount of force.

The facial arteries
have spurted,

which tells us that
he was alive

when the flaying took place.

Jesus!

-Time of death?
-Between 8 and 24 hours.

-I'd normally do a rectal
temperature but...
-No rectum.

Mmm. That's all there
is to say, really.

Unless he's on the database,
he's gonna be a bugger to ID.

What about the tattoos?
They look pretty specific.

They're not recent.
They're at least a decade old.

Different font?
It doesn't even make sense.

It's not part of
the exhibition.

Someone's put it
there for a reason.

-What do you think it means?
-Get it checked for prints.

Well, someone's forgotten
their pleases and thank-you's.

-He's under a lot of pressure.
Thanks.
-(MOBILE RINGS)

Hello?

(LOW LEVEL CHATTER)

(DOOR CLOSING)

Excuse me? What's going on?

The gallery's closed.

Why? What's happening?

It's a police matter.

There's always stuff
going on around here.

They just found a body in
Tower Hamlet Cemetery

with his face and his
back skinned off.

-We might have a match.
-Let's go.

The body was found
this morning by a lady
walking her dog.

It's possible the killer
took it with him.

It could be a trophy.

The victim's face was found
here at the
Temple Row Gallery.

The artist, Sebastian Marlowe,
specialises in what he calls

"modern ecorche".
Ecorche is French for flayed.

It basically means depicting
human anatomy with
the skin removed.

-Are we bringing him in?
-He's in Europe, apparently.

Our number one priority
is to identify the victim.

He had a set of very
distinctive tattoos which
should make him memorable.

Tattoo parlours,
body piercing?

Oh, come on!
One of you must have?

The only holes in my body
are the ones God gave me.

We all know which one
you talk out of.

-I'll take it.
-Good.

Get the SOCOs to give you
a full set of photos.

Sarge, did we get
the victim's prints at all?

I was just looking at this.

The Flaying of
Marsyas by Titian.

Marsyas was a satyr,
half man, half goat.

How does this help us?

Well, your body was found
in an art gallery, was it not?

The killer could be recreating
scenes from all
the Grand Masters.

A number of Chinese emperors
of the Ming Dynasty

liked to cut the flesh
from their enemies' faces.

In fact Lingchi,
the so-called death
of 1,000 cuts,

Depends. The ancient Assyrians
would flay their enemies alive

and then nail the skin
to the city walls.

A warning to others
not to step out of line.

Oh, look, the mould's
got in here.

Now, this is ridiculous.

Have you got anything I can
take away with me?
Anything I can study?

(SCOFFS)

We're talking ancient
history here, Joe.

I'm not going to find
it in the
Metropolitan Police Archive.

I can't go back upstairs
with paintings by Titian

and stories from
Ancient Assyria.

That's not what I pay you for.

You don't pay me, actually.

Joe, one more thing.
The files you asked
me to look at

from our rogue MI6 operative,
Mr Wingfield.

It seems there was definitely
method in his madness.

All the historical connections
we made between past and
present killings,

the Ripper, the Krays,
the Radcliffe
Highway Murders.

He'd already made them.

He was tracking all our cases?

Yes, or he was one
step ahead of us.

I haven't deciphered the
whole map yet but
a pattern is emerging.

And you are slap bang
in the middle of it.

So, come on then.
Shag, marry, kill?

Urgh, kill them all.

Yeah, well I won't buy
my hat just yet, eh?

So, do you reckon Kent's got
any secret tattoos then?

Definitely. He's probably got
a picture of the
boss on his chest.

And a little one
of the Sarge on his buttock.

-(BOTH LAUGHING)
-I heard that!

What's that?

The Flaying of Marsyas.
It's a Titian.

I can't even identify
the bloody victim!

All right, we work
with what we've got.

Something'll shake down,
it always does.

Meanwhile, I've got Sebastian
Marlowe's assistant upstairs.

Oh, good. What's her name?

Abigail Perkins.
She's in room six.

I'll order some tea
and biccies and

I'll see you up
there in a minute.

Miles.

I'm not being funny
but I think I should
speak to her alone.

-Well, what makes you...
-We've got no leads.
This is important.

Fine.

Get on with your work!

And if I balls this up...
Spud!

Oh, no. I'm not looking
to have any work done.

I'm looking for information.

What sort of information?

I'm trying to
identify this man.

That's a mask, isn't it?
Have you tried the
joke shop, love?

No, it's a man's face.
The flesh
has been cut from his body.

Oh, for goodness sake.

He has distinct tats
on his hands and his chest.

Do you recognise any of these?

-Vory v Zakone.
-Sorry?

(DOOR OPENS)

Miss Perkins, I'm DI Chandler,
thanks for coming in.

Please take a seat.

Mr Marlowe is in Spain at
the moment. Is that correct?

Yes. He's curating a new show
at the Guggenheim.

This isn't very pleasant,
I'm afraid but...

Do you recognise this face
at all?

No.

Somebody went to great lengths
to place this in Mr Marlowe's
exhibition.

Why do you think
that might be?

I don't know.

Maybe it was a fan?

Mr Marlowe's fans
can get quite obsessive.

I believe he uses real
cadavers in his exhibitions?

Mmm. Sometimes.

Who flays them?

-He does.
-With your help?

No.

I'm too squeamish.

Some people
wouldn't call it art.

Some people only
look skin deep.

I'll have Mr Marlowe's
publicist contact you.

Miss Perkins,
this is a murder inquiry.

It isn't an interview
for a Sunday
supplement magazine.

Mr Marlowe doesn't
do interviews.

He'd rather let his
art speak for itself.

Nevertheless, I will need
to talk to him.

I need to establish if there
is a link between the victim
and his exhibition.

But you don't know who the
victim is, do you, Inspector?

Not at the moment, no.

Then I'm afraid
I can't help you.
And nor can Mr Marlowe.

In Russian prison,
if you do not have tattoos,
you do not exist.

So, can you tell me
what any of these mean?

See the church? Three towers
means three times in jail.

And here, the spider in
the cobweb,
that means for drugs.

-Is this a mafia thing?
-It's Vory v Zakone.

-Can you write that down?
-Sure.

In translation it means
"thieves in law."

The Vors used to rule
Russian prisons

but it was long time ago
in Soviet times.

The first rule of the Vors is
to not cooperate
with any authorities.

I would not be a good Vor.

Thank you,
you've been very helpful.

Katje.

Where in Russia are you from?

I'm not from Russia,
I'm from Poland.

I read all that
on the internet.

Here's my number.

Oh, I can just find out
the rest online myself.

Thank you.

I'd give it a moment
if I were you, sir.

That Japanese food
didn't really agree with me.

Mansell, listen, I'd like you
to do some digging on
Sebastian Marlowe for me.

There's hardly any information
on him in the public domain.
Will you find out why?

-I think Sgt Miles is...
-And check out his assistant
too, Abigail Perkins.

She's either covering for
him or hiding something.

-I want to know which.
-Yes, sir.

(PIPES GROAN DEEPLY)

Gently, gently.

That's it.

Oh, hi. Hi. We're just giving
our poor man his face back.

I wanted to have a closer look
at his finger tattoos.

Okay, be my guest. I did send
you some photos through.

Yeah, well, I just needed to
check them in the flesh.

It's like having
your CV printed on your body.

Ah, you see. That's an eight.
It looks like a
six in your photos.

1968, gives me
his year of birth.

I did estimate mid-40's.
But then people
aren't like trees,

you can't just cut them in
half and count the rings...

Yeah, you're welcome.

Was that you?

What?

You don't scare me.

-What you doing?
-Waiting for a phone call from
Russia.

-You ID'd the vic yet?
-Maybe.

What are you doing here?

Just had a cheeky fish supper
with Erica.

She sends her love,
by the way.
What a girl.

(PHONE RINGS)

DC Mansell.

Yeah. Who is this?

What are you doing?
That could've been for me.

I keep getting
these prank calls.

This is an incident room.
in case you've forgotten.

People phone up with
vital information.

Calm down, grandma!

How can you be so uptight
when your twin sister's so...

So what?

Relaxed.

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello.

Yeah, one second.

Yeah, I've got it.
Thank you for your help.

Bingo.

Thanks to Kent, we finally
have a name for our victim.

Nikolay Baldaev,
born 13th of May 1968,

"Tats"!

Three times, most recently
for knifing a
rival gang member

but he was paroled from
Kresty prison two years ago.

Why'd they let him go?

Well, this goat, it symbolises
a snitch or an informant.

It was probably applied
forcibly against his will.

My guess is that he cooperated
with the authorities

to secure an early release.
But I'm still
waiting for the file.

Good work.
The Russians are known
to have been stepping up

their organised crime
activities in London and
there have been several

suspected hits carried out
in the past five years.

What makes you
think it's a hit?

It was a clean job,
well organised.

The victim's prints were
skinned off to
avoid identification.

If they were so keen
to avoid identification,

then why go to the trouble of
displaying his
face at the gallery?

It don't make sense.

The Vors take their tattoos
extremely seriously.

If you have a tattoo in prison
that you haven't earned

then it gets cut
off with a razor.

It does make sense, Sarge.

It also conforms with
the historical precedent
of flaying as punishment.

It's our best line of enquiry.
Mansell, my office.

All right, let's work
up a list of Baldaev's
known associates.

see if there's any link to
the Russian extortion gangs.

-Yes, Skip.
-Oi!

Where are you going?

Well, it's my report.

Then bring it to me.
I'm still your sergeant,
aren't I?

Yes, Skip.

Whatever you find
comes to my desk first.

Let's remember our
chain of command.

Sorry, Skip.

Where are we on Marlowe?

Well, apparently he employs
a team of assistants to make
the artwork for him.

He just does the concepts,
he doesn't get
his hands dirty.

In fact, there's rumours that
Marlowe is a um...

What do you call it?
A pseudonym.

Keeps his identity to himself
'cause he doesn't like
dealing with the press.

Like the Wizard of Oz.
Look into it and
keep me informed.

I should say, sir,
a lot of the information
came from Sgt Miles.

What? Miles?

He's got some really good
contacts in the art world.

He investigated the
Momart fire
ten years ago.

He became really good friends
with some of the artists.

A lot of them have got studios
in Whitechapel.

You weren't to know, sir.

-Everything all right?
-Yeah, fine.

It's just this stupid
hand's still giving me jip.

-Do you want to
get it looked at?
-No, it's just a scratch.

Well, a bit of fresh air
will do you good, then.

'Cause proper policing happens
out on the street.

Eyeball to eyeball with the
public but you know that,
don't you?

-Of course.
-Good girl.
Hey, you would tell me...

I'm all right, Ray, honestly.
Don't go all
touchy-feely on me.

You're freaking me out.
I'll see you later.

(APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS)

(FOOTSTEPS CONTINUE
APPROACHING)

JOSEPH: Miles?

I'd like you to go back
to the gallery and interview
Abigail Perkins.

-I think you might get more
out of her than I did.
-All right.

-Listen, I'm sorry if I...
-Oh, forget it.

It does us good to have a
little barney every
now and again.

It stops us turning into
crime-solving robots.
No offence.

None taken.

(CAR ALARM RINGING)

(DOOR BLEEPS)

Erm, do you
recognise this man?

No, I don't know him.

Are you sure? A lot of the
other traders have
already ID'd him

and they say he comes
round here regularly.

No.

(KNIVES SLICING)

Well, could you show
it to your co-workers or
family members please.

It's very important.

Sabina!

Yes, papa?

(SPEAKS BENGALI)

Hi. Do you recognise this man?

No, sorry.
Don't recognise him.

No? All right. Well,

if you do think
of anything can you call
me on this number?

What happened to him?
Is he dead?

I can't tell you that, love.
But if you do know anything

you ought to come forward,
okay?

Thank you for your time.

(ARGUING)

Is that a real hand?

Yes. It's been plastinated
and preserved.

Not that squeamish, then?

You get used to it.

It's a birthmark.
Port wine stain.

Nothing I can do about it.

Does it hurt?

Depends what you mean by hurt?

It's not painful.

How long have you worked
with Marlowe?

Are you interrogating me?

No, no. Just a friendly chat.

Five years. He gets me.

A lot of people don't.

Strange thing.

No-one in the art world
had heard of Sebastian
Marlowe five years ago.

Nobody had heard of Vincent
Van Gogh until after he died.

Sometimes that's just
how it works out.

True. We're not all
appreciated
in our own lifetime.

-(MOBILE RINGS)
-Excuse me.

I've been looking all over
for you.
Where's Buchan?

I'm not sure. I thought he
might have turned up
something useful by now.

That'll be the day.
Anyway, good news.

SOCOs took a print from that
card you found at the gallery.

You know, the one with
the different font?

-Did we get a match?
-Eventually.

A mechanic works
out in Dalston.

He reported his car stolen
four years ago,

(INDISTINCT TALKING)

Ed?

Meg! What are you doing here?

Just on my rounds.

-Let me go and see what
I can find.
-Oh, thanks, Oliver.

Oh, you checking on
your book sales?

You on the bestsellers
list yet?

No, no, I'm just doing
a little cribbing.

Some things can't be found
in the archive.

For instance, have you ever
been to the
Sistine Chapel in Rome?

(SCOFFS) Hardly. A wet weekend
in Abersoch was
our last holiday

and that was three years ago.

My husband's not much
of a traveller.

You should try,
it's absolutely breathtaking.
Or so I've been told.

Hmm, nice.

It's believed Michelangelo
painted this as
a self-portrait.

The artist as a
tortured genius.

Oh, a bit like yourself then?

(CHUCKLES)
No. I just want to help.

Joe took a huge
risk bringing me in.

He faced ridicule, I know that
but he believed in me.

I just wish I could repay
that trust.

Oh, you are doing. Who else is
going to come up with all this
Da Vinci Code stuff? Not me.

The only Michelangelo I know
is a Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtle.

Thank you.

I'll see you later.

Erm, thank you.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(CONSTRUCTION SOUNDS)

Sidney Walden?

Yeah?

DI Chandler and this
is DS Miles,
Whitechapel Police.

We're trying to locate...
Is there somewhere
we can talk?

Yeah.

Go on, treat yourself.

It's all right, Amy's my wife.
What can I do for you, gents?

We're trying to locate Harry
Barnett. Does
he still work here?

Harry? No, not for going on
three years now.

Did he leave a
forwarding address?

Yeah, I have it
here somewhere.

What's he supposed
to have done?

We're not at liberty to say.
Why did he leave?

Can't remember now.

They don't have to give
a reason as long as
they don't just disappear.

Here we go.

Any money worries? Women?

What, me or him?

No, he was the quiet type,
Harry.

Liked a bit of a booze every
now and then but then
again who doesn't?

When his wife left him,
he moved back in
with his old dear.

He always was a bit
of a mummy's boy.

Do you want me to
call for an ARV?

No, we don't want
to alarm anyone.

What, round here?
No one will bat an eyelid.

JOSEPH: It's up here.

(DOG BARKING)

-Oh, Jesus!
-Shh, quiet!

I'd say it's a
bit late for that.

(GROANS) Ugh.

It's coming from in there.

(GROANING)

(BOTH GRUNTING)

(FLIES BUZZING)

He's still warm!

It's the electric blanket.

BOTH: Argh!

(COUGH AND SPLUTTER)

-Peppermint tea.
-Thank you.

Settle your stomach.

Well, the neighbour upstairs,

he thought he smelt
something off but he didn't
report it.

He's subletting for a friend,
didn't want any aggro.

And the flat next door
is empty. Repossession.

Well, that's pretty biblical.

-Yeah, sorry about that.
-What are the basic facts?

Time of death is
going to be difficult

'cause he's been lying
on an electric blanket,

so putrefaction sets in
a lot more quickly.

Yeah, we noticed.

I'll spare you the gory
details but right now

I'd estimate eight
to ten days.

-Same MO as Baldaev?
-It looks like it.

Skin's been removed
from the face, the torso,
the fingertips.

but please, God, it is.

Yeah, we don't need two of
these maniacs on the loose,
do we?

So, he flayed Harry Barnett,
took his skin

and then planted one of
his fingerprints at the
second crime scene.

Maybe he was frustrated that
we took so long
to find Barnett

and wanted to lead us here?

He must want the
crimes acknowledged.

The publicity, the headlines.

But what does he want
with their skins?

So, you kissed him?

No, you muppet. He kissed me.

-(LAUGHS)
-On the lips?

Oh, don't! Why is this always
happening to me?

You show a man a bit of
maternal affection

and he's all over you
like a cheap suit.

You know why,
he wants a bit of the old...
(SUCKS TIP OF THUMB)

-Riley boob.
-Come on! Break it up,
loads to do.

Right, Harry Barnett
was killed
at least a week ago

by the same method as
Nikolay Baldaev.

Now, given that Barnett seems
to have no affiliation
with Russian gangs,

we're no longer prioritising
that line of enquiry.

But we are still looking for
links between Nikolay Baldaev
and Harry Barnett.

Why did Barnett leave his job?

Who arranged the release
of Baldaev from
prison and why?

The killer's highly
intelligent
and organised.

We need to find something
he's missed.

What's with the weird
writing?

This was found on Barnett's
bathroom mirror.

It's the same sequence of
letters that we found
at the gallery.

So, it obviously has some kind
of meaning to the killer.

I'll have a crack at it.
I like a riddle.

A Jimmy Riddle.

Right, you've all
got a job to do.

And if you haven't,
come and see me
and I'll give you one.

Stop that!

Amy?

Ames?

Miles, the flick knife
we found at the cemetery,

it definitely belonged
to Baldaev?

Well, it had his
palm prints on it.

And it wasn't the
murder weapon?

Llewellyn ruled it out. Why?

I want to see all the evidence
that we collected from
the cemetery.

-What, all of it?
-Yeah.

You heard him!

Amy?

Oh, sorry darling.

It's just that I had a bit
of a crap day, that's all.

You remember Harry?

Well, someone murdered him.

Cut his face off
like Red Indians.

Poor sod.

Hello, Riley's phone.

Hello, Riley's phone.

(MOUTHS) Who is it?

It's just a crank call.

That was the police at work.
Asking questions.

I didn't tell 'em nothing.
What's done is done.

It's gonna be all right, Amy.

Ames?

It's gonna be all right.

(STRUGGLING)

He could win the Turner Prize
with this. (CHUCKLES)

So, the knife was found?

Close to the body.
About two metres.

So, maybe he saw his attacker
coming and then armed himself?

What was nearest to the knife?

Erm, test tube, seven metres.
Used condom, 15 metres.

It's a different DNA.

Any drug paraphernalia?
Bent spoons?

Erm...beer cans.
Sweet wrapper.

What about the shoe?

-That was 120 metres away.
-And the other one?

The other one was
70 metres away.

Apart from the mud
they look new.

There's barely
a scratch on them.

The distance between
them suggests
she could have been

-running away from someone.
-Or something.

There's blood on the inside.

It must have been
rubbing her heel.

Get it down to the lab.
See if we can
get a DNA sample.

We might have a witness.

It's just like Cinderella!

Sarge, we've got
a missing person alert.

The workshop owner,
Sid Walden.
His wife came home late,

said his car and his keys
were there but he wasn't.

Come on, let's go.

Clear this mess
up will you, son.

(MUFFLED SHOUTING)

"Feelings for you.

"Any...

Erm, what are you doing?

Doing a bit of match-making.

-That's Riley's email.
-Yeah, I know.

I'm sending a
message to Buchan.

She is asking him out
on a date tomorrow night.

What? You can't do that!
All internal emails
are logged.

If I'd wanted someone
to piss all over the idea,

I'd have asked you first.
It's just a joke, right?

You shouldn't toy
with someone's
emotions like that.

People have feelings you know.

(COMPUTER DINGS)

Right, according
to Harry Barnett's
phone records,

the last person
to call him this
afternoon was Sid Walden.

Tipping him off, I suppose.

Well, that makes Walden
less of a suspect.

Why would he call Barnett
if he knew
he was already dead?

-Good point.
-POLICE RADIO: All units.

Suspected abduction
at the corner
of Malcolm Place.

Female suspect
spotted dragging
a body into a disused factory.

That's just the other side
of the station.

(MUFFLED SCREAMING)

(MUFFLED SCREAMING CONTINUES)

The lady says she saw someone
dragging a body from the
van into the factory.

We can't wait.

It's Braintree Street,
corner of Malcolm Close.

-(MUFFLED SCREAMS)
-(MUSIC CONTINUES)

(MUFFLED SCREAM)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(MUFFLED SCREAM)

(GROANING AND STRUGGLING)

(JANGLING)

(CHAINSAW STOPS)

Put the weapon down!

It's not a weapon.

Boss.

What? Well, where's Marlowe?

You're looking at him.

She is Sebastian Marlowe,
aren't you?

Aren't you?

You?

Book her.
For wasting police time.

Don't worry.
I'll talk him down.

I'm sorry. Can you keep
my name out of the papers?

I'll try.

But maybe it's time for you
to step out from
Marlowe's shadow.

Show the world
who Abigail Perkins is.

You're a bright girl.

Don't hide your light.

(PANTING)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(SCREAMING)