You just get out of here!
Oh, please! I beg of you!
That won't hold up.
That's no good. You can throw that right away. Start again.
Easy!
You're bloody drinkin' all our money again!
- I'll kick your bleedin' ass! - All our bloody savings!
What do you say, darling?
Gonna have a hell of a holiday identifying that!
You needn't fear.
That's it. You'll feel better when you get to...
We warned you!
What is this?
This'll be the last warning you get!
- Good night, Polly. - Gonna be a long night, Mary.
Too bloody long.
- It's quiet, isn't it? - Like the devil's laugh.
- You had any luck? - No, not very much.
- A penny for a suck. - Piss off.
- Where's Kate? - Across the street.
Take it easy, now.
Here we are.
Slow down.
- Miss? Mary, isn't it? - Yeah? What do you want?
Shut your hole, bitch.
I know you. You're Geordie from Nichol Street.
Do you remember me, Mary Kelly?
I'd never forget you, McQueen.
You stop that now. Buttons are hard to come by.
What does a whore need buttons for?
I warned you and your friends payment was expected Monday.
I'm working, ain't I? We all are.
And I... am makin' sure...
that no one troubles you.
I'm providing a service, Mary Kelly...
and I expect to be paid.
Or else you will be very troubled.
Now, you tell...
your five friends...
to bring me my money by tomorrow...
or this friend of mine here will be your next customer.
- It's gotten hard for me, and then... - Oh, God.
- You're bloody filthy this morning. - I bleedin' stink.
What'd you get up to last night?
You don't wanna know about it.
Give us a look.
Mary!
Oh, thank God I found you.
He's comin'. Albert's comin' today.
And, well, I need you to look after the baby.
Let's have a hold. Ohh!
I'm so proud of her. I love her to bits.
She's the most gorgeous little girl.
- Isn't she beautiful? - She's so beautiful.
She's lovely, isn't she?
I'll be seein' you in a bit.
Get us a jar of gin, will ya?
- Looks like me as well. - You look fine, Ann.
Must be nice havin' a rich man lookin' after ya.
She has your eyes and her father's brow. Don't you think?
- Oh, yeah. - Yeah.
She is a perfect love. But, Ann, we're all in a terrible way for money.
- The Nichols gang... - They want our blood.
- Know what they said they're gonna do? - Don't start that now.
Or what? What's she saying?
They want a pound a week from each of us.
You count yourself lucky that you got a wealthy man to take care of ya.
We're needing four pound to pay him, so I can't spare the time.
I'll get you the four pounds from Albert.
- He might say no. - He won't.
I know he won't.
He's been in France on business.
He wrote he sold a lot of his paintings.
He's sure to have full pockets and feel generous.
- To you, perhaps, but... - I'll ask for meself.
I'll get you the four pounds. I promise, Mary.
I'm not gonna hurt you, Netley.
Remember me?
Remember who I am?
Your charge will be coming down sooner than expected.
Much sooner than expected.
Be a good man, Netley. Get him home quickly.
Quickly and quietly. Understood?
Well said, Netley.
Very well said.
- Take them out. - What is the meaning of this?
- Kidney, what are you doing? - Ohh! Albert! Aaah!
Albert! My baby!
I want this room in pieces.
Oh, no! No!
Release me at once!
- I demand an explanation! - It's Albert.
Go!
Albert! Aaah!
Get off me! Get off me!
Shh, shh, shh.
- Please, no! - Go!
Get off!
Who knows?
I didn't know.
I swear I didn't.
How could I tell anyone else?
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Who knows?
I don't know. I don't know who they could be.
Albert must have mixed in with something terrible.
She's hungry and cold, poor thing.
I've got to take her to 'em. I've got to take her to Ann's parents.
All right, you go. Leave Baby Alice with them.
I'll get to work, and I'll meet you later at the Ten Bells.
Mostly Jews live here.
Notice something, Inspector?
I paid. I already paid.
I'm not after you, Emperor. Where is he?
Move it!
Hey!
Get up.
Get up!
Hello, darling.
Sergeant.
It's night.
Well spotted, Inspector Abberline. Indeed, it is night.
The genius has returned to us.
Thank you, gentlemen, and remember...
if you ever wish to escape the dreary confines of your present duties...
this never happened.
Cut along, now.
Have I lost a day?
No, Inspector. Indeed, it's only four hours since you left here.
Oh, deepest apologies for the, uh, rude awakening.
I suspect you enjoyed that.
I must be cruel only to be kind, as the poet said.
Although I would happily wallop you every time you chased the dragon.
Well, I had a sneaking suspicion you might interrupt.
You've seen something.
What did you see?
Are her petticoats saturated with blood?
You know, they used to burn men like you alive.
Sometime this evening a bang-tail was murdered in George Yard.
That doesn't sound much out of the ordinary.
'Twas the way she was done, Inspector.
'Twas the way the bang-tail was done...
that cries out for a man of your talents.
Her name was Martha Tabram. I don't know what sort of name Tabram is.
It sounds foreign to me.
This is not what I saw.
Not the woman of your dreams?
- You sure? - Yeah.
- Show him. - You show him.
Why do I have to be exposed to this degradation over and over again?
I've looked at the mess twice!
Before he cut her throat, he removed her livelihood...
as a keepsake.
Gentlemen, we are indeed fortunate today...
to be able to observe an entirely new approach...
to the treatment of insanity.
It is... Oh, Dr. Ferral.
I was just saying, we're here in the hope that you will permit us...
to observe this new treatment of yours.
Well, I wasn't expecting such distinguished visitors, Sir William.
But you're all welcome, of course.
I'm ready to begin right now.
- Who is your patient? - Ann Crook.
An unfortunate, Sir William...
who's hysterical and violent...
and has severe delusions of persecution.
Oh, poor girl. Uh, do please proceed, Dr. Ferral.
Gentlemen.
We have one tap above...
and one into the left lobe...
and...
one on the right...
and this unlucky patient's dementia...
will no longer take a violent form.
Thanks to this simple procedure...
we can now permanently alleviate the poor girl's suffering.
What could I do? I had to leave the baby with Ann's parents.
Rich man. Thought he was gonna take care of Ann.
Knew that was too bloody good to be true.
They're gonna kill every one of us.
Who is this Albert, anyway? Who is he?
Oh, for God's sake, who cares about Albert and Ann's troubles?
What are we gonna do? We can't stay clear of the Nichols boys forever.
You know, they say they held poor Martha down...
and watched her bleed until she passed out, and then cut her throat.
- Oh! Shocking. - McQueen is mad.
He enjoys hurting women.
That's insane. They want four pounds. How we gonna get four pounds?
Not with my old cunny. I'd be lucky to get four pence.
Oi, oi, oi! Behave yourselves or bugger off!
Yeah, you can bugger off.
We work, girls.
We work the streets harder than ever.
Right? Right?
All right, we can do it here. But hurry up.
The bobbies are fussing us tonight.
All right. Gotta get the old man off first, right?
- Give it here. I'll put it in meself. - Oh, that's ni...
Ooh!
- Eh? - Yeah, yeah.
- Is it in? - Of course it is. Come on.
No, it's not. You got it stuck between your bleedin' legs.
- No, I haven't. Come on, get a move on. - I knows it when I feels it.
- Oh! - That's mine, Polly.
That's my money.
I could pop your eye out.
Customers wouldn't mind.
They don't mind if a whore can't see.
What's that?
What have I got here?
What have I got here, Constable? Only a little thing.
Only a little thing to you, but a great thing to me.
Move, or I'll bash that smart mouth.
You're a dead woman.
- He won't bother you again tonight. - Yeah, that's right.
Look, one for the Nichols. Yeah?
And one for me. Right?
Oh. Come here. Come here.
Hey. Shh.
Hey, we work the streets together.
I'll keep my eye on you, love, eh?
Oh, you pig!
You disgusting pig!
Yeah, I'm a pig.
I'm what's wrong with the world.
Be on your own, then.
Oh, no!
You don't want the company of a pig!
What the fuck are you lookin' at?
I slept with you!
Thirsty?
Mmm.
That was the thing that was in my dream.
What's it called again?
Cleopatra's Needle.
Mmm. Cleopatra.
She was a beauty, wasn't she?
It was carved 1,500 years before the Son of God was born.
Mmm.
Six men died to bring it here...
from Egypt.
May the Good Lord have mercy.
She was like that when I found her... all murdered.
What kind of monster did this?
- Woman, I told you. - Who was the first to see her?
You go in. Keep to the streets. Settle back, now.
The boys have made their rounds of the taverns and the delightful domiciles...
that make up this charming little street.
Would it surprise you to learn that nobody heard a sound?
Throat was cut, but there's no arterial spray on the wall.
She was killed somewhere else.
- It rained last night, didn't it? - Mm-hmm.
She's dry.
She was brought here in a carriage or something.
Throat must have been cut in the carriage.
I imagine they stopped it just over there.
"They"?
- There's more than one, then. - Most definitely.
This was all in your vision?
Take your missus home.
Where were the coppers last night?
Oh, Jesus.
So...
definitely more than one person.
Has to be a message from the Nichols boys. Am I right?
What the hell?
That's grapes, isn't it?
What the hell would a bang-tail be doing with grapes?
I'd like to give them an answer.
- What are you talking about? - The Nichols boys.
I would welcome the opportunity...
to give them an answer to their bloody message.
There is most definitely a message here.
- You're right about that. - And what am I wrong about?
Martha Tabram was raped, tortured and killed.
That's cruel.
But I've seen that sort of cruelty in the East End before.
This is methodical.
The butchery's irrational...
yet meticulous and deliberate.
Altogether a different breed of killer.
As soon as possible I'd like to know what he took.
What? What do you mean, what he took?
- Didn't you notice? - What?
He's taken at least one of her organs.
Oh, no.
I want every veterinarian, butcher...
and furrier in the district interviewed.
Furrier? What did he do, sir? Skin her?
Pipe down, Withers.
When the inspector is talking, you are listening. Do you understand?
Yes, Sergeant.
He disemboweled her.
After he cut her throat, he stabbed her in the chest...
cut open her stomach...
and, uh, took out her intestines.
At least one of her organs was removed.
I'm waiting for the police surgeon's report for more details.
I see.
Well, one thing's for certain:
An Englishman didn't do it.
Maybe one of these red Indians...
wandered into Whitechapel and indulged his natural inclinations.
With all due respect, sir...
I believe this was done by someone...
with at least a working knowledge of dissection.
- An educated man, such as a doctor... - An educated man?
That's preposterous. No well-bred man would do this.
Probably a tradesman or a butcher.
A tradesman is a possibility, sir, yes.
But there's a strong indication against it.
There was a sprig of grapes found under her body.
What are you driving at?
No one in Whitechapel, no matter what their trade...
could afford grapes.
Obviously they were given to her by the killer.
And it follows that he must be someone with money.
What about the Jews? A Jew butcher.
Or a Jew tailor might have money.
There are plenty of them in Whitechapel.
Well, sir, for the sake of public safety in general...
I'd like to be careful about spreading the rumors that it might be a Jew.
Inspector, I know your reputation...
for making brilliant guesses that turn out to be right.
Someone told me you claimed to dream the answers.
Frankly, it doesn't matter to me what your methods are.
But be certain you don't proceed without proof.
- Is that clear? - Of course, sir.
Personally, I don't care.
The fewer pinch-pricks on the streets, the better.
But the sooner you find this butcher or tailor, Inspector...
the sooner we can all celebrate your promotion.
Keep me informed.
He didn't know nothin'!
Bloody Jew did it! It's gotta be!
Murdering kikes!
Every cellar! Every stable!
We'll find him out!
Some bleedin' Jew! Come on!
That's enough! Let's burn 'em out!
I have wonderful news.
Tell me.
Surely you, of all people, can guess.
I don't want to guess with you.
Dr. Marbury says...
Dr. Marbury says?
Dr. Marbury says I'm going to have your child.
Aye, to die...
and go we know not where...
but to lie in cold obstruction and to rot.
A simple "rest in peace" would suffice, Godley.
Yes, sir.
In the midst of life we are in death.
Of whom may we seek for succor but of thee, O Lord...
who, for our sins, are justly displeased?
Yet, O Lord, God most holy, O Lord most mighty...
Good afternoon, ladies.
I'm Inspector Abberline. This is Sergeant Godley.
We're investigating the murders of Polly Nichols and Martha Tabram.
Yes, we understand that they were both friends of you ladies.
Close friends. We're rather hoping you'd be able to help us out.
Don't know nothing.
Me neither.
Why you botherin' us? You ought to be botherin' McQueen.
- Is he the boss on Nichol Street? - He's the heart and soul of the gang.
Isn't it your job to be knowin' that small detail?
And what makes you think McQueen did this to your friends?
Can't prove nothing by me.
- You're Mary Kelly. Is that right? - That's right.
Well, Mary Kelly, unless one of you is willing to testify against McQueen...
I can't do nothing.
Surely, Inspector...
a strong, handsome man like you...
you could do anything you put your brilliant mind to.
I'm a coward and a weakling and I can't help meself. What's your excuse?
Why are you so bloody useless?
Come on, Mary. That won't help us.
Is that you?
Before my mother died, back in Ireland.
- Is that when you came here? - Yeah.
When I was eight.
When things was good.
We were starvin', but we were starvin' in fresh air.
I was thinking...
we ain't ever gonna earn enough to satisfy the Nichols boys...
and feed our own mouths.
You said, right... You said those men, yeah?
The ones who took her rich artist man and who took her as well.
You said they was clean shaven and their clothes was neat.
- Yeah, right. - Well, they weren't no criminals then.
I mean, they weren't the likes of the Nichols boys.
They was unusual.
Perhaps even official.
What are you gettin' at, Annie?
Maybe we could go with the papers.
Get paid for the story, you know.
"Where is Ann Crook?" That sort of thing.
The papers are always desperate for things bad about the government.
And it's a mystery to boot.
It's not a bad plan. What do you think, Mary?
I'm thinkin' we should talk to that inspector, the one at Polly's funeral.
Oh, fuck me, no!
If we go to the papers they might hurt Ann or do something to her baby.
What, worse than what'll happen to her in Whitechapel when she sprouts teats?
I don't know for sure, but I think we're better off talkin' to that inspector.
Lord, you are young after all.
Four bitches. That's what I thought.
You only paid for one bloody person.
- They're my guests. - Guests?
Well, let me welcome your guests.
Go on, get out!
Get out of here, you bloody whores! Go on!
When you have four pence...
you can come back with your ladies-in-waitin', Your Grace.
Oh, shut up!
Ow!
Back to work, then.
- Well, let's try and stay together. - You know we can't.
Then stay good and clear of Nichol Street.
Come on!
- All right, Annie? - Ehh.
Bloody bastard.
- How's your head? - Oh, very funny!
Hyah!
Boo!
I didn't frighten you, did I?
I been lookin' for ya.
I been lookin' all over for ya.
You been looking for me?
Not for me. On behalf of my gentleman.
A very fine gentleman. He sent me to find ya.
Your gentleman sent you to find me?
Oh, get off. I might be unfortunate, but I'm not a blitherin' idiot.
It's the truth. It's the God's truth.
He seen ya. He likes ya.
And he said tonight only you'll do.
So he said to find ya, take ya to Hanover Street...
where he's waitin' for ya.
You're very pretty.
Go on, then, get in. I'll take you there.
Oh, I almost forgot.
My gentleman got you a present. You like grapes?
Yeah.
Whoa!
Your gentleman, he must be very refined.
- Very refined indeed. - Get in.
- I'll take you there. - All right.
Here we are.
- I'm like a lady. - You are a lady.
Your gaffer, does he want anything special?
Just the usual, I expect.
Now, this alley takes you to a yard.
My gentleman, he's quiet.
He doesn't like disturbances.
What I wanna know, right...
is a toff like him, how much is he offerin'?
Here. Two florin.
That'll do me.
Let me see ya. Go on.
- Down here? - Yeah.
Straight down. Straight down to the door at the end.
Shh.
Straight down there, yeah?
Oops.
No!
Bugger off!
You watch your mouth!
Any more information?
- My readers wanna know this stuff. - Oh, do they?
Found a piece of leather apron in her mouth?
No, Mr. Best, but if it's your fancy...
I'd be delighted to stuff your mouth with a piece of leather.
Come on, give us a tip. Put your picture on the front page.
Cover-up!
You're supposed to do something about it! This is ridiculous!
There's a bleeding murderer on the loose!
What about my wife?
This is Annie.
Yes. Another of the circle of friends.
Annie Chapman. Dark Annie, they called her.
You still say this isn't the Nichols boys?
Did the constable show you the leather they found down by the water spout?
Could be part of a butcher's apron.
Leather apron. Dear God.
We could be looking for a butcher after all.
I saw her.
- This one? - Yeah. Last night.
I saw her face.
Don't trample over this area.
Let us see the body!
- Come on, let us see! - Oh, God.
There's your typical Londoner...
imbued with the Christian spirit of sympathy for his fellow man.
Or fellow whore, in this case.
He's really outdone himself this time, hasn't he?
He not only severed the intestines...
he carefully arranged them around the neck and shoulders.
I think he's taken more organs this time.
Grapes again. Why grapes?
Only Polly and Dark Annie were given grapes.
Only they were disemboweled in such a meticulous fashion.
This ain't killing for profit.
This is ritual.
Yeah, but why grapes?
So they'll trust whatever he offers.
I've never fully understood that tradition.
They're for the ferryman...
who takes the body across the river into the land of the dead.
If she don't have the money to pay him...
she'd have to wander forever, lost between the two worlds.
I need to consult a doctor.
Are you ill, Inspector?
A surgeon, to be specific.
The killer removed the victim's uterus and its attachments.
My God. He's out of his mind.
That's very astute of you, sir.
I don't appreciate sarcasm, Inspector.
I'm sorry, sir. I meant nothing by it.
You already have a surgeon at your disposal.
I need a man with a strong stomach and a sober mind.
The police surgeon has neither.
- No. Request denied. - Why?
Are you questioning my decision?
No, sir. I simply want to know why.
There's already too much nonsense and gossip in the press.
You start consulting doctors...
and all sorts of wild notions will be printed.
No one else is to see the bodies.
It is my honor...
to present this... unique medical phenomenon.
Until last week, Mr. Joseph Merrick...
John Merrick.
I beg your pardon.
Mr. John Merrick...
was an attraction at a sideshow.
Now he's being cared for...
at England's leading hospital...
and with your generosity...
we will be able to continue to do so.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Mr. John Merrick.
Turn around.
Oh, please.
I can't stand it.
Oh! He should have been killed at birth!
Good health!
That'll be the last one, Your Royal Highness.
These hands are a gift from God.
- The psychotic patient is... - Pardon, sir.
- You Dr. Ferral? - I am, yes.
I'm Inspector Abberline, assigned to Whitechapel.
My lord, you're the Ripper case.
- Am I right? - Yeah.
Jolly good. You've come to the perfect place.
We've got butchers aplenty here.
I see.
I could use the expertise of someone like yourself to help solve this case.
They tell me you're the best young surgeon in London.
Really?
I don't see how a reputable surgeon could know anything about it.
This country's overrun with foreigners.
Orientals and...
Jews.
Socialists trying to stir things up against our monarchy.
That's who you should be pursuing.
Don't you think?
Excuse me.
You don't belong here, do you?
I'm afraid Dr. Ferral suffers from the surgeon's malady.
And what's that, sir?
Want of feeling.
He knows everything about anatomy...
and nothing about the soul.
How may I assist you, Inspector?
Well, forgive my ignorance, sir, but, um...
are you a surgeon?
I was.
Unfortunately, I suffered a brain seizure six months ago.
- Sorry to hear that, sir. - These days I limit myself to teaching.
So you see, I'm accustomed to answering questions, Inspector.
Well, sir...
could you tell me what sort of a knife, uh, would this be?
I think you mean to draw a Liston knife.
It's named for Liston, who was a surgeon in the Crimean War.
Because there was no anesthetic on the battlefield...
he had to carry out these amputations very quickly.
Uh...
do you, by any chance, have the police surgeon's report available?
Yes, I do, sir.
May I?
- We must keep this confidential. - Of course.
- There it is. - Thank you.
Hmm.
Yes.
Wouldn't someone have heard their screams?
Not if you cut their throats first.
Yes.
And how can you be sure they wouldn't react to seeing the Liston knife?
Grapes.
He offers them grapes first.
- Ah. - Grapes are very tempting.
Yes, of course. They'd gobble them up, wouldn't they?
And he might offer them a drink to ease them down.
A drink laced with laudanum.
How do you know that?
I found a sprig of grapes on both victims' bodies...
and I smelled the laudanum on their lips.
Laudanum is a derivative of opium.
Apart from doctors and addicts, not many would recognize it.
How long have you chased the dragon, Inspector?
Well, these should help with the headaches.
And, um...
opium leeches minerals out of the body...
so I've also given you a tonic...
that will help to restore your appetite.
Thank you very much, sir.
I'm a fool.
I don't think you're a fool. Far from it.
I ought to have known, sir, that you're Physician Ordinary to the Royal Family.
Well, yes, it's certainly an honor...
but it's an honor bestowed on many doctors.
Now, about our friend here, I can tell you this much:
He cut their throats from left to right, therefore he's right-handed.
Excuse me.
He had to slice through four layers of tissue...
and up to an inch of subcutaneous fat.
After that...
he entered the abdominal cavity...
so he would have had to use more than just merely the Liston knife.
Perhaps he was carrying a portable amputation kit similar to this.
What do you think?
Is it possible, sir, that the killer is an educated man...
perhaps someone who studied medicine...
but who is, in fact, not a surgeon himself?
The intestines are simple enough.
But, uh, the uterus?
The liver, especially. Hard to locate, unless you know what you're doing.
And he was working quickly, in the dark.
I had held out hope that this...
monster was a veterinarian...
or a furrier or an...
Especially well-educated butcher.
No, I must admit, if I were you...
I'd look for someone with a thorough knowledge of human anatomy.
Damn him.
Do you want me to suck it?
I can suck the Thames dry.
Don't be frightened, dearie.
How far advanced is our grandson's malady?
Uh, no lesions have appeared, ma'am.
There is some neural damage... a slight trembling of the right hand.
But I'm hopeful... more than hopeful...
that treatment will arrest the disease.
He seems to us to be suffering greatly in his mind.
Is the disease affecting his emotions?
Yes, well, of course his mood is depressed...
because of the news of the diagnosis.
But that should improve as he regains his strength.
You are a true physician, Sir William.
In all ways, you attend to the health of our empire.
We are grateful.
Thank you, ma'am.
If this is the beginning...
of a five-pointed star...
- A bloody Jewish star. - Withers!
Inspector is talking, which means you are what?
- I'm listening, sir. - Yes.
This area would form a likely point.
I want double shifts within these streets until further notice.
And don't only worry about Jews and butchers.
You stop anyone suspicious...
including well-dressed gentlemen.
And by the way, Withers...
the Star of David has six points.
Right. Once more into the breach, dear friends.
Dismissed!
Why have you called me here?
It's just...
It's just you say three more have to be killed.
I can't take it, sir.
It's everywhere. It's in all the papers.
I'm just a simple chap, sir.
I'm not a great man like you.
I just don't know where I am at... anymore.
There, there, Netley.
I shall tell you where we are.
We are in the most extreme and utter region...
of the human mind.
A radiant abyss...
where men meet themselves.
I don't understand that.
I don't understand, sir.
Hell, Netley.
We are in hell.
- Let me go! Get your hands off me! - Pull yourself together.
Go on!
- In with you!
Sorry about that, Inspector.
She's madly in love with me...
although she hides it well.
You said McQueen killed your two friends.
- So what are you doing here? - Oh, I see.
Women are butchered right and left, and you can't do piss about it.
- And I'm the fool. - We're watching them.
Can't arrest them without evidence, so we watch them.
- What else can we do? - I'll testify.
If you keep meself and me friends alive, I'll testify.
To what, precisely?
That McQueen said he'd cut me unless I pay him a pound a week.
- No. - What you mean, no?
You asked me to testify. Are you worried I'll let you down?
I won't. I promise I won't.
You testify against McQueen, maybe he goes in for a year or two.
But his boys, they'll take their revenge on you and your friends.
I can't let you do it.
It's your round this time.
I confess, I have an appetite.
One day, I'll be a great big round woman...
with a skinny little man for a husband.
And a dozen plump children, I imagine.
You think that's funny... an unfortunate like me being a decent mother?
No, no, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that at all.
You'll be a wonderful mother someday, Mary.
Honest. I can see it.
I see you in a little cottage by the sea...
surrounded by children.
I can see it, Mary, clear as day.
- I really do have visions, you know. - Are you serious?
Sergeant Godley calls 'em my intuitions.
As a matter of fact...
I had one about you in this case.
You have visions about me?
What might those be?
I want you to think carefully.
Besides McQueen, besides these awful murders...
has anything else happened to you or perhaps to one of your friends...
that's a bit out of the ordinary?
Ben Kidney? That's Special Branch she's describing, you know.
What the hell would Ben Kidney and Special Branch be doing in Whitechapel?
Wait a minute.
She's Irish-born, isn't she? There's your answer.
A secret Irish rebel. That's why they would be after her, right?
They were after Ann Crook...
who was having an affair with a wealthy gentleman.
A man she bore a child.
A child that's now missing, along with its grandparents.
Right. Drive on, please, driver.
You do not fuck with Special Branch.
They fuck with you.
I don't know what you're thinking, and I don't care to know.
Inspector Adderly. Mr. Kidney wants to see me.
Mr. Kidney's gone, sir.
Didn't say where. Could be for the night.
No. He said he'd be back before 11:00, and I should wait.
Where are you going, sir?
He said I should wait in his office.
And what floor is Mr. Kidney's office on?
I don't know what floor, you bloody idiot...
because I haven't been to his fucking office yet, have I?
He told me to have the desk man let me up.
But I'm more than happy to stand here like a knob...
because you disobeyed Ben Kidney's order.
It's the second floor on the right.
Thanks.
Free Ireland!
Get inside, sir!
Just some gunpowder, sir. That's all.
Little more than a firework.
Anyone go in or out?
Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Yes, uh...
There's an Inspector Adderly in your office.
No, there's nothing missing here.
The bastards have been in here, sir. I can smell 'em.
- No. - Yes.
No, not together. Too suspicious.
You wait for me, and if she's in there you can go and visit her on your own.
I'm going with you right now...
or I'm going to the newspapers.
I mean it.
There's a number of mental disorders for which it is necessary...
to remove the front part of the brain.
Her records indicate that she was violent...
threatening to do harm to herself... and others.
Does she have any relations?
No, she's a ward of the state.
- That's a lie. - Listen to me.
You're under arrest. You're here to assist my investigation.
- Keep your mouth shut. Is that clear? - Sorry, sir.
Good.
What else do you know about her?
All we know is that she was an unfortunate...
who lived in the Whitechapel district.
I'd like to ask her a few questions.
You won't get any sense out of her.
I'm used to that.
Hello, Ann. I brought Mary Kelly.
- Do you remember Mary Kelly? - Ann, you know me.
I'm your best friend in all the world.
Go away. Go away. Go away.
Ann, I'm gonna find Baby Alice.
I'm gonna take care of her.
Alice is laughing to me. Laughing to me.
Laughing to me all day long.
It's all right. It's all right, darling.
What about her father?
Have you seen Alice's father, Ann?
He's a prince. A prince.
A prince! A prince! And I'm a queen.
I'm a queen! I'm a queen!
How do you know he was a painter?
He hired us to pose as artist models.
And what exactly does that entail? "Artist models."
We stood very still so he could paint us.
What's the matter? You think I was born a whore?
Oh, I'm sorry. I'm an unfortunate, not a whore.
England doesn't have whores.
Just a great mass of very unlucky women.
So, Ann Crook...
and the painter became lovers... is that it?
He married her... in a lovely Catholic church... Saint Savior's.
I was a witness, as a matter of fact.
He married her in a Catholic church.
What do you think they've done to Baby Alice?
Special Branch dumped her in Bishopsgate?
Yeah, as an unknown.
- But why? - When I find out, I'll tell you.
- Take me to her. You have to. - No, not yet.
I need to know more first.
Look here, I promise...
that I'll help you with Baby Alice, but not yet.
You gotta trust me on that, at least a little bit.
I do. I do trust you.
Good.
Do you have little ones, Inspector?
No. No.
A year ago... No, two years...
I'm sorry, more than two years...
my wife, um, passed away...
giving birth to what I'm told was a son.
I'm sorry.
Thanks.
I wanna show you some paintings on the way out, yeah?
- Are you gonna take me into the gallery? - Why not?
Come on.
- Did you see the look on her face? - I think she stopped breathing.
She's a fright.
She has cold eyes.
I feel like someone's walking over my grave.
There's one more painting I want you to see.
You know him, don't you?
Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder.
I pronounce...
that they be man and wife.
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.
- Sir William Gull, please. - Sir William isn't receiving visitors.
Uh...
Sir William? It's Inspector Abberline.
I need to speak with you, sir.
Sir William is ill. Can't receive any visitors.
I said...
you can't go in.
It's all right, Dr. Ferral. I don't mind company.
Have Anna bring us some tea, would you, please?
Ah, well, I wish I could tell you, Inspector...
that your story was fantastical.
Unhappily, I cannot.
I know for a fact that the prince has a taste in unfortunate women.
And I suppose it's more than possible that...
he concocted this elaborate deception...
to have some privacy while he indulged in his secret life.
But I know one reason I have for stating...
that Prince Edward being Jack the Ripper is just incomprehensible.
What's that, sir?
If you repeat what I'm about to tell you, both our lives are in jeopardy.
Indeed, I hope for your sake that what I'm about to say...
will steer you clear of the very real danger you're in.
I think I'm well past the point of safe return, sir.
Prince Edward has syphilis.
Not a pleasant state secret, but a vital one.
Well, then that proves it.
I couldn't understand why the prince was killing Ann Crook's friends...
especially so savagely, but...
he's not merely killing them.
He's punishing them.
He wants revenge. Don't you see, sir?
No, Inspector, I don't see.
I'm afraid your wild speculations about the prince's mental state...
clever though they may be...
cannot overcome the physical impossibility...
of his committing these crimes.
The disease is far enough along that...
the prince's hands tremble uncontrollably.
He's very weak, and the killings of Jack the Ripper...
require sure hands and considerable vigor.
And have you forgotten the most telling fact?
Whatever else the prince may be...
he knows little or nothing of human anatomy.
Conduct the candidate to the center of the lodge and cause him to kneel...
for the benefit of prayer.
Vouchsafe thine aid, Almighty Father of the universe...
to this, our present convention.
Who is this?
A poor candidate in a state of darkness...
who comes of his own free will...
perfectly prepared, humbly soliciting...
to be admitted into the mysteries and privileges.
In all cases of danger and distress...
in whom do you put your trust?
In God.
How did he find out about the unfortunate and her child?
Well, he has that kind of cleverness...
you'll sometimes find in the middle classes.
A cheap sort of intelligence, but effective nevertheless.
Hmm. Thank God that's not something you're burdened by.
Yes, thank God.
Recite the solemn oath.
Never to reveal our secrets...
under no less a penalty than...
my throat be cut across...
my tongue be torn out by its root...
and that I be buried in sand...
a cable's length from shore.
You don't think Gull is confiding in him, do you?
The old fellow isn't as far gone as all that, is he?
No. He's not that foolish.
Let the brother receive the light.
"Another beautiful murder will be committed by me. "
"Fear me. Jack the Ripper."
- They're rubbish, you know that. - Yes, I agree. They're rubbish.
Though why you persist in believing that red-haired jezebel, I'll never know.
Have you considered that she's the sort of woman who likes to make up stories...
particularly about men?
She is, after all, a whore. She's a woman who...
"A rose by any other name." Is that it?
Frederick, my dear chum, no one is more delighted than I am...
that you've decided to resume your interest in the fairer sex...
but please remember...
a woman like that can make a man feel whatever she wants him to feel.
- Sergeant Godley. - Yes, sir.
Arrest the Nichol Street gang.
- Right away, Inspector. - I tried to stop them, Inspector.
This arrived with this afternoon's post.
Open it up!
"I send you half the kidney I took from one woman, preserved for you.
T'other piece I fried and ate. It was very nice."
We demand something be done, and done tonight.
"From Hell."
Well, at least they got the address right.
It can't be. Are you sure he was the same?
I know him. I posed for him twice meself.
I stood there naked as a babe watching him paint me for hours.
And he was with Ann for what... over a year?
Nearly two.
Ah, here you are. Hello, girls.
Where have you been? I told you to wait for me.
I can't stay in a pub and not have a drink.
That's cruel. But look who I bumped into.
Remember Ada?
- She's from France. - Bruxelles.
- Yes.
Oh, she is pretty, isn't she?
Not in public, love. Not in public.
Would you give us a minute alone? We need to speak with Liz.
No, Ada, you stay where you are.
Come, Mary. Get a drinksy.
Mary.
You don't have to worry about Nichol Street for at least a week.
- I can keep 'em that long. - Well, that's something, anyway.
- Thank you. - Yeah.
- Baby Alice, she's all right? - Yeah, she's all right.
We'll get her out after this is over.
"We'll get her."
Listen.
I want you and your friends off the streets until I can sort this thing out.
- Off the streets? For how long? - A few days, at least.
Well, you better throw us in jail then...
'cause we have no money for food and no money for a doss.
All right. You take this.
Buy some food, get a room and stay there.
Don't tell anyone where you're going. I don't want to know.
In three days, come to the Ten Bells.
I'll leave a message with the barkeep.
What? It's not enough?
I wish I could show you the little village where I was born.
It's so lovely there.
It's by the sea, the way you said you saw me.
I used to think it too small to spend a life in...
but now I'm not so sure.
Don't. Don't.
What? Do you think I'm paying you back?
I didn't mean it as business.
I'm still a woman. They haven't taken that away from me.
Not yet, anyways.
Enough of that.
Now, lad, at least take...
Sorry, sir.
There, milady. One more time.
And curtsy.
And we're done.
Oh, don't be modest, girl. They don't care what we do.
I paid for your supper, remember.
Stop shaking your head at me, you slag!
Leave her alone.
She is my business. She's not yours.
Liz, just be quiet for one bloody night.
No, I fucking won't keep my voice down!
Calm down! They'll call the landlord on us.
Don't go out. It's not safe.
I need something to sustain myself.
- I will be right back. - Liz, don't be so fucking stupid!
- Do without for a night. - No.
- I want a fucking drink. - Liz!
Here we are. Service records.
Grenadier Guards. Lieutenant Benjamin Kidney.
There, just as you suspected.
Before he joined Special Branch...
Ben Kidney served in the Grenadier Guards.
Part of his duties included assisting the field surgeon.
Let me tell you something, Inspector, of which I'm absolutely certain.
Assisting an expert is different... very, very different...
from doing it oneself.
Think about it. Someone's gotta clean up after the prince.
And whose job is it to take care of the widow's messes?
You've turned into Othello. Do you know that?
Everything is a suspicion.
And like that tragic Moor...
all your suspicions will end up in your own demise.
For heaven's sake, man, these women aren't just being silenced.
They're being murdered most brutally. Why would Ben Kidney do that?
To scare people. To keep their mind off the real point.
Which is?
Think what's at stake for Special Branch.
Prince Edward married Ann Crook, a commoner and a Catholic.
Married her in a Catholic church. They had a baby.
A legitimate baby, who is, in fact, heir to the throne of England.
All these women were there.
All these women were eyewitnesses to an event...
that could rip the empire to pieces.
When she starts drinking, she'll go all night. You know that.
But she knows how dangerous it is.
She don't believe you about the prince.
She thinks you're feeding that copper candies to keep him interested.
Hello, sir.
Is anything wrong, my dear?
No, sir. For a moment, I thought you were someone else.
Oh.
Thirsty?
Always parched, sir.
Perhaps there is somewhere nearby that we might go...
while my coachman keeps watch.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah. This way.
Follow me.
Yeah, it's this way. Follow me.
I dropped my grapes.
Oh!
No!
What the fuck are you looking at, Lipski?
Shut up! Shut up!
I hear someone coming, sir.
Sir!
All right, George, that's enough.
It's one of them, isn't it?
Throat's cut the same way.
Yeah.
He didn't finish.
Well, she's no less dead for that.
He won't be satisfied by this.
Wilkins?
Fetch the ambulance. Go on, run along.
Excuse me, miss.
You could be dead... right now.
But then there would be too many bloody questions.
Ignore the old man's blathering. Find a scapegoat.
Or next time we won't care who asks...
"Whatever happened to Inspector Abberline?"
We should hurry up, sir. It's clearin' up.
Do you have a piece of chalk, Netley?
Chalk, sir?
They found another one in Mitre Square!
Bastards! They did another one!
I heard he cut off her nose this time.
Nice work, Inspector. You've encouraged him to do two a night now.
Out of the fucking way, cunt.
Katherine Eddowes.
There's some writing on a wall just down the road there.
You should have a look at it.
"The 'Juwes' are the men that will not be blamed for nothing. "
It's hardly Shakespeare, but it'll do.
I was busy with the children...
Madame, slow down. Slow down.
Make sure you get the apron as well, yeah?
It was written by the killer, sir.
And how do you know that?
I was here three-quarters of an hour ago.
This building... mostly Jews live here, is that right?
- Yeah, that's right. - Ready now, sir.
Put that away and get out of here immediately.
- Abberline. - Yeah?
Wash that off.
- What? - You heard me.
- It's evidence, sir. - Listen to me.
In another hour, there will be a thousand people poking about in here.
If those words are seen, not a Jew in London will be safe.
We'll have mayhem on the streets. So wash it off!
That's an educated hand, sir. An educated man wrote that.
- Look for yourself. - I don't have to look. I've seen it.
An educated man knows how to spell "Jews."
I don't know what this refers to, but I'm sure it's got nothing to do...
with the people who live around here.
Sergeant, I want two constables to wash that off.
What are you looking to him for? Wash it off!
Yes, sir.
Half a dozen men have seen it already. The sergeant has copied it down.
I'll remember these words for as long as I live.
So all you're doing is destroying its value as evidence.
No, all I'm doing is taking charge of an investigation...
that you have bungled to the point of gross inefficiency...
and I've had enough.
You are suspended from duty, Abberline.
Inspector Abberline is suspended.
- All his privileges are cancelled. - Yes, sir.
You've not seen her, then?
Well, if she comes around, give her this.
Long letter, eh?
This is for your trouble.
The letter's private. You understand?
- I understand. - Right.
Where's this?
Recite the solemn oath.
Never to reveal our secrets...
Grapes again.
Why grapes?
This ain't killing for profit.
- He's not that foolish. - You oughta be botherin' McQueen.
- Are you questioning my decision? - Find a scapegoat.
This is ritual.
"Jubela, Jubelo, Jubelum."
"Juwes."
It's me, Ada. Me. Only me.
I bring everything for supper.
You little thief. I need this money.
I just take some money and buy food for me and for you.
Is that bad, Marie?
It's fine, dear. You're a good person, but listen.
Until I go away from London, it's not safe for you to go out.
Understand?
I stay with Marie. Beautiful Marie.
It's all right, darling. You don't have to pay for your food.
Pardon?
Here's to our feast.
I'm so sorry to greet you like this, Inspector, but...
but I'm rather late for an appointment.
Will you excuse me if I finish dressing while we talk?
No, no. Please, go on.
Thank you.
I'd like to speak to you about the Freemasons if I might, sir.
The arrangement of the coins at Dark Annie's feet...
and also the locations of the bodies...
form a pentacle star.
A pentacle star is a symbol of the Freemasons, is it not, sir?
Yes.
And the way that all these women were killed... throats cut left to right...
organs removed.
They're reenactments, aren't they, sir?
Reenactments of what?
The Juwes.
The traitors who killed Hiram Abiff, founder of the Masons...
that's how they were executed.
Ah, yes. So the great book tells us.
So Jack the Ripper isn't just merely killing whores.
He's executing traitors.
He's a Mason fulfilling a duty.
Yes, I'm afraid, Inspector...
that you won't be permitted to arrest him.
I don't want to arrest him.
The Ripper has one more traitor yet to kill...
and I will stop him.
Did they come to you, sir...
as a loyal Mason?
Did they ask you to help them cover up the prince's secret marriage?
That's how it started, yes.
And then you discovered the prince had syphilis.
He's going to die of it, Inspector.
Would you like a tour of the syphilis wards?
You're a physician ordinary to the queen...
entrusted with the well-being of the heir to the throne.
Only you...
had reason to believe that these unfortunates...
these whores...
these... traitors...
destroyed your life's work.
Below the skin of history...
are London's veins.
These symbols... the miter, the pentacle star...
even someone as ignorant...
and degenerate as you...
can sense that they course with energy and meaning.
I am that meaning.
I am that energy.
One day, men will look back...
and say I gave birth to the 20th century.
You're not going to see the 20th century.
Roll up his sleeve.
- Don't struggle.
You'll only make this more painful.
You all right, mate?
- Dr. Gull. - Yes!
You were describing the human heart.
Yes.
The human heart...
is a dense and powerful muscle...
much like the organic equivalent of mahogany.
And notoriously difficult...
to burn.
About the size of a fist...
it provides the motor power for the circulatory system.
The heart contains two atria, two ventricles...
and four valves.
It is, in effect, a single pump...
powering a double circuit.
In the adult the heart rate averages 70 to 80 beats a minute.
Such is the force of the heartbeat...
that if the body's largest artery, the aorta, is severed...
A six-foot jet of blood...
is released.
Let the brother receive the light.
For you fear no God, arise.
Your faith is well founded.
Don't. Don't go in there. There's no need.
How bad is it?
She's-She's in pieces, sir.
Sergeant, he can go in.
- Give him to me! - He'll be taken care of, I swear to it.
- I want him. - He's done. I give you my word.
Fuck your word! I'll bring every last one of you fucking cunts down.
You and your fucking brothers!
Now, listen to me, Abberline.
Your situation... your difficult situation...
has been thoroughly discussed.
You are reinstated. Indeed, you are promoted.
No! No.
Come on. This is not helping anything. Come on! Come on.
Don't be a fool, Inspector.
You will be very closely watched.
Yeah, you're all there now, ain't ya?
Where were you when this was happening?
It's all right for you, standing around there chatting. What about us?
Inspector Abberline is in charge.
Give him all the assistance he requires.
No!
Remember, you're being watched.
All right, come on, you men. Clear this passage.
- Come on. Move 'em away. - Move back! Back!
Shall we proceed, Inspector?
Body lies in middle of bed.
Shoulders flat, but axis of body inclined toward right.
The left arm is close to the body...
the forearm flexed at a right angle...
resting across the abdomen.
The right arm is slightly abducted from the body.
It rests on the mattress with the elbow bent...
and the forearm supine.
The fingers are clenched, indicating a struggle as she died.
Notice something, Inspector?
No.
No, go on.
Came in not long before dawn.
A bit of a rush. Left this for ya.
I know you asked me to wait.
If I'm to be murdered, I'd like at least to die in my village.
I'm going to the orphanage to collect Baby Alice.
Here's an address where you can find us.
We'll wait for you eagerly.
I know... I know in my heart...
we can be happy living by the sea...
just as you saw.
I hope to be with you soon, dearest.
All my love, Mary.
We are deeply distressed, Lord Hallsham.
We asked Sir William to remove a threat to our family and to our throne...
not to engage in these ghastly rituals.
Oh, no, of course not, Your Majesty. That was unexpected.
On the other hand, he has fulfilled his duties.
The threat is passed, Your Majesty.
In his way Sir William has been loyal...
and we are grateful for that.
The rest is in your hands, Lord Hallsham.
We wish to hear nothing further of this.
Knight of the East...
we are gathered here beneath the God of love...
and before the sight of the Great Architect to judge this case.
You stand accused of mayhems that have placed our brotherhood in jeopardy.
You stand before your peers... Masons and doctors both.
- I have no peers present here. - What?
No man amongst you is fit to judge...
the mighty art that I have wrought.
Your rituals are empty oaths you neither understand...
nor live by.
The Great Architect speaks to me.
He is the balance where my deeds are weighed and judged...
not you.
Knight of the East...
hear our judgment.
Well, they're not watching you anymore.
I'm telling you, it's safe to go to her.
They think she's dead.
If I disappear or change my routine suddenly...
they might wonder why.
You know who you're gonna turn into, don't you?
That boring old bugger in the pub that nobody wants to sit beside.
'Cause as soon as he's had a few drinks, he goes on and on...
about the girl that got away.
Do you want to live the rest of your life like a ghost?
No.
What I want is to go to her.
But at the slightest hint that she's alive, they will spare no expense...
no expense and no trouble.
So I stay... and watch them.
Alice! Alice!
Come in, darling.
Coming, Mother.
Get up.
Get up! Come on.
Good night, sweet prince.