All language subtitles for Ripper Street s05e01 Closed Casket.eng

There will be bad things
said about me, things

that perhaps you will
not recognize as acts

I could have carried out.
- Not again, father.

Do not leave me.

You stay close to
your Samuel Drummond.

Understand?

Should you need
to speak with me,

place a candle in your window.
- Nathaniel, is it?

Those are bite marks, Reed.

Flesh torn out with teeth.

We find him, his capture
will bring us also

his brother, Augustus Dove.

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Where did he say?

Somewhere.

It is a whole system of tunnels.
- Hide.

I shall find you.

Bennet!

Bennet!
- Cut me open.

Bleed out my heart.

But all you will
find there is dust.

Bennet, you fight.

You fight.

No, my friend.

No more fighting.

No!

Undertaker.

Yes, sir.

A closed casket for
this man, if you will.

Reid, Reid.

What do you say?

Three nights we've
been down here.

This day, every uniform
from the city to the marshes

is gonna be at his gravesite.

If we're quick about
it, we can move freely.

Where?

Someplace that ain't a sewer,
where we can sleep, eat.

Then say.

If I say, you won't go.

That thing's more
conspicuous than you are.

This way now.
Quick.

Come.

The stage door gives
out onto the laneway.

Here.
There's food.

You think you'd
have the decency

to keep your murderous
fingers off my lunch.

All the decayed ruins in this
town and you bring me to hers?

I did warn you.

It's a real nice place
you got here, Hermione.

beast lies dead.

All right.

Let me tell you what
he said about you.

Hey, I've had you.

That's right.

They're skills, that savagery.

Who's next?

Hey?

Who dare risk their
animal against mine?

This way.

Would not if I
were you, brother.

He ain't the petting kind.

What kind is he?

The killing kind.

Is that so?

What you want?

I want your dog.

Well, you can't have him.

No, we're done.

Wait, don't hurt me!

Please.

Hey!

Good boy.
Good boy.

Come on.

Come on.

You come with me, boy.
You're mine now.

Why Inspector Reid
resorted to such action

is a question that may only be
answered by the man himself.

But the facts of the
ghastly fate suffered by Mr.

Swift cannot be ignored.

The recorded cause of
death was dehydration,

but that eventual end
must, one imagines,

have come as mighty relief
for a once eminent man

who had lived for 10
days in conditions

which defy imagination.

10 days in which his body,
in starving desperation,

would have slowly turned to
eating itself, before death

came to spare him
for the suffering.

Before that blessed hour,
however, dehydration would have

brought him to a mad delirium.

In that state, he had chewed
his own tongue to ribbons,

and shattered the bones
of his fingers and wrists

in repeated attempts to break
down the bars of his prison.

As for Mr. Reid,
the only man who

might shed light on
whose own motives,

his whereabouts remain unknown.

There is more food and water,
too, if you would like to wash.

And believe me,
you ought to do so.

Because never mind talk
of you, I expect the stink

carries to Scotland Yard.

How do we know
she may be trusted?

I imagine that depends on
whether you intend to become

charming or not, Mr. Reid.

You, might I have
a word, please?

Where is it you go, Mr. Reid?

Get eyes on my girl if I can.

See if she's lit her
candle to call for me.

I shan't expose
you if I'm taken,

were that your chief concern.

When is it you are
planning to leave?

You are running, I imagine.
- We are.

Then, why are you
in my play house?

All the ports are watched.

And besides me and Susan,
we're a family now.

You will not leave
your son behind?

No.

And Mr. Reid?

Pour two.

Reid.

Yeah, look, his gruffness, He's
barely spoken two words since.

Since what?

Since they came for him?

No.

Since we watched Drake die.

You were there?

When that man Abel
Croker murdered him?

Don't believe everything
you read in the newspapers.

Did he not in fact
murder Inspector Drake?

Was the man fitted
for the crime?

It's best you don't know.

Then that which Mr.
Reid is accused of,

what happened to Miss Swift out
there's father, is that it also

a questionable
version of events?

Is he, is she, in
fact blameless?

Blameless?
Never that.

And to think when I read of
her supposed passing... I mean,

I should be shot, but
I... I sorrowed for you.

Mimi, darling...

Don't call me "darling."

You call me "darling"
one more time,

and I will walk you to
Leman Street myself.

I don't understand how
you dare come to me.

Was there no one nowhere else?

Oh, we had a long list.

No candle?

Well, she has Drummond
staying with her, right?

Correct.

And all the while, Augustus
Dove, that brother of his,

now hid in some
safe place while he

makes certain the
world is fully apprised

of the evil I have done.

And I may not protest.

And I may not hold
my girl and explain

to her the ghastly truth of
her Uncle Bennet's passing.

Hey, Reid, she knows that
truth, she then knows danger.

And you're in no place too
offer her your protection.

We must continue
to cower, must we?

And while the world is
poisoned, justice and truth

are made August Dove's whores.

What are we to do then, Reid?

We go get our justice.

Let the heavens fall.

What will you do?

What can he do?

He chooses to fix
his will to vengeance,

he will tear this
world down about us.

Maggie, you don't
wish for justice?

You're asking the wrong woman
entirely the wrong question.

Whatever common factors shared
by Miss Morton and myself,

I am today grateful for them.

But we cannot imagine
ourselves protected by her.

So you believe her disloyal?

What motive does she
have to lean to loyalty

when she brings you to mind?

We do not act, you
and I, whether it

is with fury or another's
idle tongue-we must ask

is all I say.

And this great
action you describe?

Our vases, I have a sense of
where Croker may have hid them.

If that sense is accurate,
there is not a soul

left to stop me taking them.

You don't think you're gonna
be seen on the dockside?

Yes, and I have a thought on
how that might be addressed.

I don't like it, Caitlin.

I'll go.

You just... you stay
here where it's safe.

No.

Because you must go to
Connor, set eyes on our son,

if you can.

All that has passed in the
house which he must call home.

We must see that
he's well, Matthew.

And I will be watched for there.

Darling, we are watched
for everywhere by everybody.

No.
No.

Not everywhere.

What was that fixation, anyway?

Besides, what is a
theater if not a place

in which we might transform
ourselves, transform myself?

What?

You be careful.

'Cause I might fall in love
with you all over again.

This new chief of ours
who comes in this morning,

he's a proper heavy weight,
from what they say, right?

And OK, when he ran
Limehouse, 10 commission's

recommendations in one year.

Nigh on 50 nicker, one
from the Bow Street farm

found for bringing down an
armed robbery single handed.

That was about five
years past, Frank.

Where's he been since, eh?

And now he comes here
to run this division.

From the sound of it,
he's entirely the strike

of man required for
this sink in which we

here currently find ourselves.

And I for one should be happy
to walk alongside such a man.

Aye, fall on your
ass.

Oi.

I've been robbed.
- Name?

- Why do you need
- That?

So we can come by and
cook your dinner for you.

It is a legal requirement, sir.

Oh

Oh.
It's Jenkins.

And what is took from you, sir?

My dog.

Breed?

English bull terrier.

Well, it's a
fighting dog, is it?

It is not.

It's my domestic companion.

It's pure breed, understand?

25 pound to replace.

Some pet.

You see those scars
about his hands, Drum?

I'll have my pension on it
that's a pit bull,

and he's a pit bull handler.

Now, you just be
glad we here are

currently exercised
by graver matter

than a bollack sack like you.

Mr. Dove comes, the
new chief with him!

Get out of here, Mr. Jenkins.

Men of H Division,
I expect you to show

your new leader all the
loyalty you showed your last.

Your men welcome you.

Portland stone
pillars, Mr. Shine.

Money's been spent or lost,
depending on your outlook.

What is that?

It is a telephone,
Inspector Shine.

You are desk sergeant?

Drummond, sir.

I know what a
telephone is, Drummond.

Of course.

Perhaps Mr. Shine refers to
your micro reader, Sergeant.

Um, Mr. Reid's files
were photographed

and their size then shrunk
by a ratio of 160 to 1.

Ed Reid.

Hm?

This Reid?

His brain made put
in glass, is it?

Shall we move on?
- Gentlemen.

You do know
the American position.

That is your
prerogative, Mr. Shine.

No, it's not mine.

In truth, I do not have any care
for such empirical probings.

Lead on, Drummond.

No wonder you suffer such
strife in this division, sir.

This bang-up is not full
enough, not near, Mr. Dove.

This needs setting.

Then see it set, Mr. Shine.

This was Bennett Drake's seat.

It was.

How soon are
great men replaced.

Who was this man, Croker,
this Whitechapel?

A wharfinger, a nobody.

A nobody ended Bennett Drake?

Ate his flesh, four
others besides?

That is not a nobody.

The file in front of you,
all you need know on Mr. Reid.

These charges, justifiable
homicide, truthful or cooked?

It is all there, Inspector.

Ed Reid called to my desk once.

So I fought Bennett
Drake for the Lafone Cup.

Drake was base sergeant then.

And Reid ordered him to it.

Would youmind
finishing, Mr. Dove?

Well, Mr. Drake disobeyed him.

It was widely spoke of
for many years after.

He saved your life, Mr. Shine.

As I understand it, the doctors
have passed you fit, Inspector.

Because I threatened to
burn down their homes if they

did not.

Well, I expect you to be well
enough for your duties here,

chief amongst which, the
capture of these fugitives.

So I understand it, sir.

For why is it you
believe I've accepted

your invitation back here?

Bring in this man,
this retribution,

well, that'll be the
highest of high days.

I have coffee and hot rolls.

Thank you, Miss Morton.

I hope you will forgive
me my poor manners.

Oh come, Mr. Reid.

I've heard worse.

You're hardly a scaffolder.

You had left this
place, had you not?

Why is it you come
back here, Miss Morton?

I'm happy here, happier than
I am anywhere else at least.

You cannot settle over west?

No.

It's diverting for a while.

When... when I'm there,
I think of here.

You don't think I can
deal with that turd up top?

Where's our boy, Rose?

Wouldn't you like to know?

Tell me why you're here, I'll
tell you where he is likewise.

You're gonna tell
me now, goddamn it.

You think I give two
hoots to be made dead?

I do not.

There's twice a day
it's only weariness

stops me doing it myself.

Where'd you go?

I see your life's
all packed away.

They will have me at
Blackpool for a season.

And then?

I do not care.
Somewhere.

Where's my son, Rose?

What is your name?

My name's Matthew Judge.

What is hers?

Caitlin.

And despite what you
believe, she's your friend,

and she loves you.

As do I, Rose.

And how we understand the
time between then and now,

I have no clue, but
it's true, Rose.

You are loved.

Where's Connor?

I could not even be
close to him after Bennet.

When I looked at
the child, I could

see ought but her and you.

Could feel ought but hate.

I have given him away.

Goddamn it.

To who?

Rose, to who?

To a life that you
will not prise him from.

They are papers.

Connor Judge is now the
ward of Augustus Dove.

Rose, where is he?
I beg you.

Hackney, he has said,
but I do not know where

and I do not wish
to know neither.

Will you leave me,
please, Captain?

I'm.

He'll be glad for more
permanent company, I believe.

He grows restless.

It's not company he needs.

It's order.

Or has the moral discipline
I was brought to cheer you

as a foul-mouthed mud
larking boy forgotten now you

are a frock-coated gentleman?

No, of course
not, Mrs. Headley.

Oh, see.

He comes to greet you himself.

Well, Connor, do you
have a word of greeting

for your new governess?

Excuse me, out of the way.

Police coming through.
Move.

Make way.

His name is Nathaniel.

A nud two yards in height.

He'll be rough and
dirty, but you see him,

you treat him kind.

And Constable, this is
not police business.

This is my own affair.

You understand?

Yes, Mr. Dove.

Mr. Dove thinks he can
set the hour of the world

by his own
pocketwatch, surveying

the dogs like the
heir Abel Croker

might have wished him to be.

And he has your son.

He knows you will not
leave without him,

cannot but try to retake him.

He's correct on both counts.

He does not have all
within his control, however.

He does not take
his private guard

to the docks for his health.

Nor, indeed, to seek our vases.

You mean he looks Nathaniel.

He must hunt him himself.

Because if that man kills
again, if he even speaks,

Dove himself will fall.

All I have done, what you
and I did to your father,

perhaps I am as black of
heart as Augustus Dove

would have the world believe,
but Bennet Drake, my friend,

was not.

There never was a more
dedicated or honest soul.

God knows I used that
integrity to my own ends,

but before I die, I will see
his voice given back to him.

Then we need to trap the
beast which killed him.

What makes you so certain he
hides in the Jewish quarter?

Nathaniel has lost
everything,.

Whatever kind of father
the man Croker was to him,

he cannot simply call on his
brother to ask for a bed.

He must wait for that
brother to find him.

Cannot stray too
far, therefore.

And like any human male...

Any mammal, any wolf cub.

He may seek comfort in
where he found it before.

Amongst the people
he's preyed on.

The last three days,
a man, early 30s.

Don't talk much, but when
he does, it's English.

No stranger.
Will know his way about.

Yeah, this man.

I had him Friday out.
- Why?

No dogs.

Lamb chops.

Costly eating to give
away to an animal.

Is he fattening it up?

What breed?

Bull terrier, a
brute of a thing.

Fight dog?

A way to raise
funds, certainly.

Where is he fighting?

What is this?

Church of the latter-day saints.

You think it's code?

Well, street cry
would be unwise.

The whereabouts
of their match-ups

must be communicated somehow.

Last I knew, there were
no Mormons setting up

church in Whitechapel.

See there, tending to his flock.

Peace be upon you.

And upon you, brother.

Do you wish to give thanks?

We do.

Cassock or congregation.

Fight or play?
- Play.

That's your brother?

Lovely.

All right, let's get it started!

Fear not, Abel.

Fear not.

We ain't here to
watch 'em suffer.

What are you doing?

Oi, you.

You have some brass to come here
to my kingdom with that animal,

a dog I raised.

Raised for violence,
raised for blood.

That dog was bought as
such, so you give him up now!

Give him up!

As you wish.

Go on!

Abel.

You, tell what
has happened here.

Reid, I see him!

Get after him, then!

We're gonna lose him!

We must not.

Come on, boy, come on.
Come on, boy.

Who's it brings
the coffee here?

That'd be Sergeant
Drummond, sir.

We leave all matters
domestic to him.

That's a good drink,
Sergeant Drummond.

Thank you, sir.

Is it you who instead of
his own soft bed warms his

in
Miss Mathilda Reid?

It is, Mr. Shine.

Sleeps like a dog there.

Well, dogs are loyal, mister?

Thatcher, DS, sir.

Mr. Drummond, would you be
so kind as to introduce me

to the young lady.

I would find it an honor
to lay my eyes upon her.

Of course, sir.

The smell of this town,
Drummond, I do not think I

could mistake it though I live
to be 500... shit,

bad gin, and dead flowers.

Miss Reid, I am to introduce
you to Inspector Shine.

I'm pleased to make your
acquaintance, Mr. Shine.

Miss Reid.

What is this work you do?

I'm a researcher for the
work of Mr. Charles Booth.

Yeah?

And what do you research?

How people live
on what they have.

Well, I hope you'll
let me know the answer,

because that is a skill I
am yet to master myself.

Will you excuse
me, Inspector Shine.

You know, your news
traveled to Ireland,

where I worked at the time.

Forgive me.
Which news?

Your resurrection.

Sir, ought we not to...

No, you ought not, Drummond.

I share the experience,
see, of all having thought

me gone only to be restored.

Who else may say that,
save yourself and myself?

Man may stop and wonder
if perhaps we are kin, you

and I. You should know, it is
me now that hunts your Pappy.

Drum?

I wish you only to know
this... whatever may pass,

you will always have a
defender in Jedediah Shine.

Life is precious,
Miss, particularly

that which is given twice.

Good day, Miss Reid.

You think we were seen?

An American shooting his
pistol off in broad daylight?

Who would remark
on such a thing?

Hey, he's the animal we hunt.

What the hell was
I supposed to do?

Not kill him, for one.

His use to us dead
is exactly nil.

That man, Nathaniel, what...
what is it that he hunts?

The chaos back there, the
unleashed fighting dogs,

he is releasing them,
not fighting them.

An act of liberation,
not violence.

From a violent man.

Well, dogs ain't just
dogs to Nathaniel.

What, then?

His wolf brothers, who
he now seeks to free?

An act of compassion
from a man who tore

my friend's throat from him.

I hear Susan said he's more
of a man-child than a monster.

He may have developed
an affection for her,

and she for him, I believe.

So this compassion
he has for the dogs,

we must assume he will
persevere with these acts.

Unless his brother may lay
hands on him and stop him.

We must hope he does
not trap him once more.

More Methodist pit fights then?

Yes, until we have him, yes.

And perhaps Miss Swift may
use their mutual affection

and turn him to our own ends.

It is a great risk you take
for a man who let you down so.

He betrayed me with you.

Then you see my argument.

Why not turn us
out to the streets?

He's very charming, your man.

He is.

He's also an idiot.

But if in this life,
we do not trust

our instinct as to
who is a good person,

then I think we might be ruined.

It's Hackney, is it not,
where, according to Rose Drake,

this Mr. Dove now resides?
- It is.

Now that it lives again, I
must reregister my theater here

for its purpose.

I do so via a young man called
Eric at the land registry

in Lincoln's Inn Fields.

Mr. Dove, good man of
the Lord that he is,

must also register
his new domicile

for gas, waterworks, the like.

Dear Eric is a little bit
in love with me, I think.

He makes a household there and
will be advertising for staff,

I imagine.

Do you know, Miss Morton,
we have far too much

in common not to be friends.

Pit fight at the old woolworks.

Word is the dogs were released.

They're now scattered
throughout Whitechapel.

Figure you're immune
to arrest, Jenkins?

Perhaps, I am.

The ruckus what saw
these dogs set loose,

your men here in attendance,
in a pursuit all their own,

a pursuit of the wretch what
thieved my dog, Chopper.

You're not so spry now.

Hello, Mr. Jenkins.

That is valuable intelligence.

No mistake.

Don't I know it.

Then perhaps you will allow
us to show you our gratitude.

By all means, Inspector.

Hold this.

Higher.

Higher.

Higher.

Now, Mr. Jenkins,
you dance there

on your tippy toes
for an hour or four

while we establish the truth of
your snitching on Edwin Reid.

With me, Sergeant Thatcher.

Yes, sir, Mr. Shine.

Inspector Shine, sir, I think
you might wanna come see this.

Come on.

Mr. Thatcher, can
you bring to mind

any man of these parts who might
have need for a 0.45 cartridge?

Yeah, I can, Inspector.

That would be Captain Jackson.

Lunch, I think.

Aye.

Mr. Drake not allow
you your lunch, then?

Not such a lunch as this.

No, he... he felt... well, he
and Mr. Dove felt we here

who police these streets must
be seen to work as hard as them

who must live on them
and not place ourselves

above them in any way.

But we are above them, son.

They defer to the law,
and we, we are the law.

There is no equality in that
fact, nor ought there to be.

Yeah, yes.

Yes, Inspector.

Now we must ask ourselves why
Mr. Reid would show himself so.

Because aside from the certain
fact he is about as conceited,

a sanctimonious a soul
as ever pissed up a wall,

he is proper police.

He and his American
associate do not

go around letting
off firecrackers

without good reason.

These pit fights, they
have significance for them.

With that being the
case, there's one today.

Might not be the only such
fight they might attend.

My, you are a quick
fellow, detective.

What else does that quick
wit of yours ponder?

Our new friend
Jenkins, who you've

got now strung up in our cells.

Indeed.

He might be setting
the organizing

of another such fight,
the coordinates of which

to be described a little
bit differently to Mr.

Reid and Captain Jackson.

And there, where there was a
fair amount of pit fighting...

There would instead be
ourselves, lying in wait.

Here's a happy thing.

You are a man of foresight?

Jesus, unchain me.
I'm not an evil man.

Were I a dog bred for profit,
would you make such a claim?

I mean, yes.

Yes, I am an evil man.

I am an evil man.

Then do you say I am a dog?

Mr. Shine, my
pardon, 1,000 pardons!

Ought I to release you?

I don't ask, sir.

It's for your sake.

If I were to, would
you do my bidding?

Forever more!

Forever more!

Forever more?

Then, do what you do best,
and by way of example,

see another pit fight
arranged and broadcast.

Take him down.

Sign here.

And you, Frank.

He is meticulous,
our desk sergeant.

Oh, he is that.

And more besides.
Right.

Be on your way now, Mr. Jenkins.

Don't be forgetting our
love for you, Mr. Jenkins.

What.
Drum?

What would you prefer,
Thilda, that you

were caught and returned,
to make his case, I mean?

Claim his innocence or
that you were ever caught?

And never returned?

I cannot say, but I do not think
it only the law which motivates

Mr. Shine's pursuit of him.
- No.

He was right, however.

What he said about resurrection.

Father said it too, that
I was born to him twice.

And now I am perhaps
lost to him twice.

They set a trap for him.

Shine and Frank Thatcher.

Drum, what is it?

Please, will you say?

He is my father.

There.
Your Mormons again.

Captain, find the coordinates
of this next pit fight.

And where is it you go?

To see my girl.

Have you lost your mind?

If you're taken...

Then I am taken.

But she lit a candle for me
last night, so I must go to her.

You go, Mr. Reid.

Do not sling your
accusations at me.

I know how he feels, is all.

So you're go to
Hackney, do you?

I know where our son is.
I must go.

Mathilda, my girl.

You were watching?

I have been every
night I could.

You are well, my darling.

Is there any trouble?

Are you threatened?

No, father.

I am well.

Samuel Drummond
keeps a weather eye.

He stops the night at our home?

He does.

Well, Mathilda,
you lit your candle.

I did.

Father, Mr. Swift.

Yes.

Mathilda, please, we
need space and freedom,

time for such talk.

No, it is not so
much Mr. Swift.

I was just... the cellar, father,
why would you put him there?

Why?

The cellar that
was once my home.

Mathilda, please.

It had the force of logic
and I... we will in due course

talk on it, and I
will explain all,

but for now, please, is there
anything you need to tell me?

They plan for your capture.

This is Mr. Dove.

He plans it?

No, it is not.

Then, who?

There is a new man sits
in Uncle Bennet's office.

He came to talk to me.

What is his name?

He is named Shine.

Are you certain?
Jedediah Shine?

Has he threatened you?
- No, father.

Quite the reverse, in fact.

Never, ever let yourself
be alone with him.

Do you understand?
Do you understand?

Yes, I understand.

Now, what is his strategy?

Mathilda, please.
His strategy.

Peace be with you, brother.

And you.

Gather round, gather round.

All those seeking
employment, the household

has need for a footman,
a cook, and two maids.

All applicants
are to form a line

and hand their
credentials in here.

Footman, is it?

He has a governess.

Well, governesses can be
dissuaded with firearms.

You have not seen this woman.

She has the look of
someone who has sent

Satan himself back to Hell.

Besides, there is
a bodyguard also.

Two uniformed men.

It's Whitechapel
men, H Division?

- No, A.
- It's Westminster.

Even they're not immune to a
bullet shot from a firearm.

I suspect it may come to that.

Well, you took your sweet time.

Any longer, we'd have
missed our window.

There's another pit
fight scheduled.

I know.

It is upon the waste ground
beyond the charcoal works.

What?
How?

I only just came from the man...

Never mind.

But I have found
opportunity also.

They construct this animal
fight to draw us out,

but we shall see their claws
pulled from them first.

DS Thatcher.

My heart has sorely
missed you, son.

As I have it, Sergeant,
you are half in love

with your new inspector.

Sergeant Thatcher, the
unreliable copper,

is he?

Where the hell is he, Drummond?

You men with me.

We must move now, or the
chance trap Reid is...

What's that noise.

Thatcher.

He's always.

Aw, is it chafing?

Lovely bunch of flowers!

You out there, Ed Reid?

I know you too vain a man not to
now be watching your own acts.

I'm fierce glad to be here,
fierce glad to know you yet,

a worthy antagonist!

I have thirsted long
and hard for this fight!

I'm in your house, my
feet under your table.

And I will not be leaving till
I've looked you in the eye.

And then I'm gonna paint
these streets with your blood!

All men, every address within
100 yards, tear 'em apart.

Do it now.

Tear 'em apart!

Tear 'em apart!

I want him found... now!

We'd best run, eh?

- It'll be all right.

Forgive me, Abel.

Don't let 'em get you!

We'll miss you!

Go Mr. Reid!

We won't forget you, Mr. Reid!

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