In the early hours of Friday morning, August 31st 1888...
a penniless prostitute was slaughtered on a London Street.
Her name was Mary Ann Nichols.
With the death of this one woman began...
a reign of terror so horrifying that the world remembers it still.
Jack the Ripper.
- Whitechapel! - Whitechapel, get yer Star!
Fresh flowers. Penny a bunch, penny a bunch.
Fresh flowers.
- Whitechapel. - Get yer Star.
Get yer Star. Murder! One penny. Get yer Star.
Murder in Whitechapel.
- Get yer Star. - There you are, son.
One penny. Star special. Murder in Whitechapel.
Get the Star.
Murder in Whitechapel.
Get the Star.
Eighty thousand prostitutes.
Disgrace to the nation.!
- Crime is now a way of life? - It's all true, Mr O'Connor.
This is a newspaper, not a scandal sheet.
How many copies did we sell last week?
And how many are we selling today?
It's a murder, Bates, that's all. Just a murder.
But it could become a crusade. Don't you see?
A crusade? Women like that get killed every month. Jerry!
Exactly, that's my point. It's a jungle down there.
Poles, Frenchmen, Jews. Pouring in from everywhere.
It's a wonder there's not been a killing everyday.
One spark and the whole East End of London goes up.
- Just like that. - And you're the spark, is that it?
- Jerry! - Look...
- I've just been to Scotland Yard. - Jerry!
And they're putting Abberline on the case.
- Yes, Mr O'Connor? - Shut up.
They're doing what?
Putting Inspector Fred Abberline on the case.
For a dead whore?
Abberline's the best detective they've got.
What's going on?
The East End of London is out of control...
Mr O'Connor. You know that.
The police are losing their heads.
Aren't they?
- Good morning. - Good morning.
Morning Sarge.
- Morning, Pete. - George.
- Where's Abberline? - He's downstairs.
Dawson!
Hello, Bill. Where's Inspector Abberline?
Number five, Sergeant. Number five.
- George? - Yeah.
Chief Superintendent Arnold wants to see you.
Arnold?
Does he know where I am?
No, but he's about the only policeman in Scotland Yard who doesn't.
Better read that.
- "Have police lost control?" - Yeah.
George.
Get me a razor.
Well, what else did old boot-face have to say?
Detective Chief Superintendent Arnold thinks I need a rest.
A rest? Never heard it called that before.
Anyway, I like Whitechapel.
Good. 'Cause one day they're gonna send you back here...
permanently.
- End of a brilliant career. - Don't start, George. Not now.
Why d'you do it, Fred?
We all like a drink now and again, but give you a bottle and you're...
All right, George, you've had your say, now leave it alone.
This it it. Bucks Row.
- Put it back, Whizzer. - I only wanted to see what time it was.
Half past four.
What're you doing, Sonny?
Well, I'm not 'avin' tea with the Queen, am I?
- I'm washing the blood away. - This is Inspector Abberline...
from the Yard. Stand up straight, son.
Sorry, sir, urm, it's Inspector Spratling's orders, sir.
Keep the place clean.
You know what that was, don't you?
Evidence.
Is that why you're here, Inspector?
Bringing in Scotland Yard because the local boys can't cope. Is that it?
- And who might you be? - Bates.
Benjamin Bates, with The Star.
Why is Scotland Yard so interested in a local murder?
My readers would love to know.
Busy Joe, can you come here a minute, please?
Enter.
Chief Superintendent Arnold.
Shut the door.
Whose idea was it to send Abberline to Whitechapel?
I'm in charge of the Detective Department, sir, the choice was mine.
How many more articles like that...
do you think Commissioner Warren can withstand?
Last year there were riots in Trafalgar Square.
People were injured, the Commissioner got the blame.
Bloody Sunday. The Prime Minister hasn't forgotten, Mr Arnold.
What is this to do with Abberline, sir?
I gather he's still drinking. And heavily, too.
You have chosen a drunk for the job, Mr Arnold.
Sit down.
Murder. Well, I suppose that's one way of putting it.
As you can see, the killer severed the throat...
right back to the vertebrae...
then removed the uterus, the kidneys.
The poor woman wasn't just... Murdered. She was plundered.
Dr Lewellyn, last night, according to this report...
you said she'd been "operated on".
What do you mean? An abortion?
- No, no, nothing like that. - But you said, er, "operated"?
Well it's not just a stabbing, is it?
A police surgeon in Whitechapel sees enough of those, I can promise you.
I was here for fourteen years, Doctor.
Well, the flesh has been torn; Ripped apart with great force.
- And yet... - And yet what?
Well, the cuts are quite deliberate.
- Almost clinical. - Was he a surgeon like yourself?
Surgeons save lives, Inspector, they do not destroy them.
No member of my profession would make incisions like that.
There's no medical purpose in them, you see.
But he knew the workings of the human body? You'd go that far?
Where to find the organs, yes, but that doesn't make him a doctor.
- Any butcher would know as much. - Thank you, Dr Llewellyn.
I won't keep you, it's been a long day.
Doctor? I see the inquest is tomorrow.
That's right.
Well, goodnight.
Goodnight, sir.
Inquest tomorrow. How do we present evidence by tomorrow?
We can't.
You mean we're not meant to?
I don't know yet, but something stinks.
And it's not just this place.
George. First thing tomorrow...
I want a list of every doctor, vet, butcher, feldsher...
anyone who makes a living with a knife, within a five-mile radius.
I wanna know where they were last night, and why.
What about the moneylenders, the pimps, the bully boys?
And them too. And find out about our friend, the Doctor.
Him, Llewellyn? He's a local police surgeon!
Just read that duty officer's report.
- Evenin'. - Evening.
Evening.
According to that, he examined that girl twice last night.
- Twice? - Yeah.
And the first time, he only found a cut throat.
- Cut throat, she was gutted. - Yeah.
I think we'd better find the man who wrote this report.
Inspector John T. Spratling.
- Be it ever so humble... - There's no place like home.
- Hey, what's going on? - Looking for a policeman.
Very funny. Local inspector, name of Spratling.
You've found him. Who are you?
Sergeant Godley, sir, Scotland Yard.
Scotland Yard!
Well, well well.
A real detective from Scotland Yard...
come to tell us how to do our job, Kerby.
Sergeant Godley, is it?
Dear, dear. Sergeants round here make the tea.
What do inspectors do?
Abberline.
We'll need a clean office, George. That one's filthy.
Sergeant Kerby, is it?
George takes sugar in his tea, I don't.
Hello, Jack. How's the collection business?
Still making a profit, or shouldn't I ask?
What are you doing back here, Abberline?
The Nichols case.
- The what? - Mary Ann Nichols.
Common prostitute, murdered last night in Bucks Row...
examined by Doctor Lewellyn in your presence sixteen hours ago.
Half her insides missing. Ring a bell?
Er, there was also some bruising along the lower edge of the jaw...
on the right side of the face.
On the left side, about an inch below the jaw...
there was an incision terminating three inches below the right jaw.
Thus. This incision, about eight inches in length...
was made with with such force that it completely severed...
all tissues down to the vertebrae.
Why are you letting this go on? We're not ready for it.
I want to see who's here.
Dr Llewellyn, those were not the only injuries inflicted on the body.
No, sir, the abdomen had been cut open from the base of the ribs...
down the right side. Our young reporter has found a friend.
Bates from The Star. He was at the murder site.
I know. Who's that with him? Big one with the hat.
- Looks like an artist. - Or an anarchist. Neither of 'em are local.
Doctor Llewellyn, would these injuries imply a... medical knowledge?
In my opinion the organs could not have been removed...
in the way they were without at least some...
anatomical knowledge of the viscera.
Doctor?
Order, please.
- Order. - It's true.
Mr Baxter, I am the detective in charge of this case...
and I'd like to request an adjournment.
You have further evidence then, Inspector?
I've had less than twenty-four hours, sir, and I have no evidence.
And you want the inquest deferred to give you time?
- That's right, sir. - Yes, I've been surprised at the...
haste of all this myself. Order, order.
This inquest will now be adjourned sine die, at the request of the police...
to allow further evidence to be presented.
Thank you, sir.
What's 'is game, then?
It's called digging your own grave.
- Get me a cab. - What're you gonna do now?
Find his boss.
That's right, Commissioner, the inquest was adjourned at his own request.
How quick is this local man - Spratling?
You're not thinking of replacing Abberline, sir?
If he's going to turn the death of a whore into a three-act opera...
the sooner he's out, the better.
May I say something, Commissioner? Abberline's in charge.
Replace him now and people will ask why.
- The press'll have a field day. - They're doing that already, Mr Arnold.
We're caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.
- Let me talk to him, sir. - And if he won't listen?
He'll listen to me, Commissioner.
That I guarantee you.
Time?! What time?
There isn't any time.
I assigned you to this case because the Commissioner needs an arrest.
Not next week or next month, he needs it now.
And you know why he needs it now?
"Police baffled." "No evidence, say police." "ls the East End lawless?"
Do you think the East End is lawless?
I am not responsible for the papers!
No, you're responsible to me, and I want this case closed, Inspector.
Yes, and why is that, Chief Superintendent?
Mary Nichols was a shilling whore.
She wasn't killed for money, she didn't have any.
Her neighbours can't remember any enemies...
and according to the Doctor, she wasn't even sexually assaulted.
Yet somebody tore her to pieces in the street.
So find him.
D'you want the killer or will anybody do?
Sit down, Frederick. Go on.
- The finest malt. - No, thanks, I'm not drinking.
We're two of a kind, you and me.
We came up the hard way.
How long have you been an inspector, Fred?
Fourteen years.
You should be a superintendent by now.
It's all a game, you know. You've got to hedge your bets.
Is that what you're doing?
We're pawns. You, me. Shilling whores.
And all around us, the kings and queens.
Our sort can't win. You should know that by now.
Bury this case, Frederick. We'll see you back at the Yard.
Mr Lees, he's still waiting.
- Shall I tell him to go? - No, George.
I'm coming.
- Mr Lees, this is Mr Abberline. - You know who I am?
By reputation, yes, Mr Lees.
My visions have been of use before.
- To the police, anyway. - The boy in the river, I remember it.
And other cases.
Please sit down.
I've see him. The killer.
Not his face. Well, yes, his face - but not clearly.
My visions are symbolic.
Intuitive. Not like a photograph, you understand?
You saw the killer, in a vision?
Imagine two windmills, turning.
Like two wheels. And each, a face.
Together, but apart, like the wheels of a coach.
Two wheels.
But two faces.
- You mean, two killers? - No, one killer with two faces.
Two faces, but the same man.
I'm afraid you've lost me, Mr Lees.
His victim has a black straw hat with a green feather.
A brown dress with two patches, and one of her shoes is missing a heel.
Am I right?
I'm right, aren't I?
Look for a man with two faces.
Come on, Fred, you don't believe in fortune tellers.
Someone must have told him.
But why? Why is she so important?
Important, Mary Nichols?
First the Doctor doesn't notice she's been gutted.
Next, they wash the blood away.
Then they hold the fastest inquest I've ever known...
and tonight I'm told I can't win.
Out!
Go on, out!
So what are you saying?
Well, if the dead woman isn't important, then the killer must be.
And you know who Lees is, don't you?
Well, yeah, seances, bring back the dead for rich old women.
- He's a loony. - He's more than that.
He's the close friend and psychic medium of Her Majesty Queen Victoria.
You did the right thing coming to Ben Bates, Mr Lees.
The public will be grateful to both of us for this, you'll see.
There, Mr Lees.
Is this what you saw in your vision?
Not exactly, Miss Prentice, the hair is too long.
- But near enough, yes? - Let him speak.
Emma we go to press in three hours.
And I'll walk out of here in three minutes...
if you don't stop badgering me.
- Shorter hair, you said? - Yes.
And this one should be... Far more frightening.
With shorter hair, you know... You know who this reminds me of.
- I'm gonna lose my job. - Richard!
- Yes, that's who it is. - Richard?
Richard Mansfield, the American actor.
Well, he's the toast of London in Robert Louis Stevenson's play.
- Play? - At the Lyceum.
Of course! Mr Lees, have you seen this play?
I never go to the theater.
- Large crowds upset me, I'm afraid. - I think you should.
You'd find it most interesting, I'm sure.
Would you be free tonight, by any chance?
As a guest of The Star, of course.
Morning, George.
Fred, do you know anything about these suspects?
What suspects?
Er, they're waiting for you at the Masonic Hall, sir.
I'm supposed to take you there.
There's eight of them.
Are you pulling my leg, son?
No, sir! Mr Spratling's orders.
Eight suspects.
All ready, sir.
- Who the hell are they? - Inspector Spratling's murder list, sir.
Charlie, there, he's a mucher. Then there's Arthur...
What?
A mucher's a man who robs drunks, sir.
I know what a mucher is, son.
- What's a murder list? - Well, we, er...
we round 'em up, sir, when there's a murder.
- The same people? - Mostly, yeah.
Keeps the public happy.
That's what Inspector Spratling always says.
- And what then? - We let 'em go.
Well, they don't mind.
Most of 'em volunteer. It's for the soup, sir.
I did it, sir! As God is my witness.
I killed him with my bare hands. He was a Roman.
A filthy Roman solider!
A spy of the accursed Julius Caesar!
And he deserved to die!
As, kind sir, do I.
I forgive you.
God almighty.
- What shall I do with 'em, sir? - Give them the soup.
Come on, George, we've got work to do.
Right, come on. Form a line.
- Old boy, come on, where I'm going? - Outta me way!
Jesus!
Please sir, come on, halt! This is disgusting. Come on, form a line.
Half the world seems to have known Mary Nichols.
Time to go 'round the pubs, George.
I thought you weren't drinking.
Not me, George, you. Get your ear to the ground.
Start with the, er, Britannia...
- corner of Dawson... - Dawson Street, I know.
Then the Ten Bells, where all the prostitutes go.
You know, I've talked to more prossies in the last six hours...
I won't tell your wife. Talk to some more.
What's your guv'nor think he's doing, Godley?
This is a muster room, not a church hall.
Make me a cuppa tea, Kerby.
- John, did you hear that? - No sugar.
- Here you are. - Great.
- Treble. - Thanks very much.
So, you're back in Whitechapel, Mary Jane.
- Where d'you get to this time? - Here and there.
- A gentleman took me to Paris. - Paris?!
- Paris is beautiful this time 0' year. - Mary Jane, you're the limit.
The laughter, the music. I was an artist's model for a while.
Marie Janette...
that's what they called me.
She's never been south of the river in 'er life.
I have, too!
Now, listen, what I wanna know is, who killed old Mary Nichols?
- You must know somethin'. - Did she have regulars?
Regulars? They'd 'ave to be blind. Did you see 'er?
- I mustn't speak ill of the dead. - Still sitting on the rent, Cathy?
Right, mister, time is money.
Now, she's not cheap but she used to be an acrobat.
Gawd save us. 'Ave you met my friend? Archbishop of Canterbury.
Right, come on Johnny. Make up your mind. Which one d'you fancy?
Bloody cheek! You don't run Mary, does he love?
- No. - Goodnight, Annie.
And you can shut up, too.
She's gonna need a protector the way things are going.
- What things? - I 'ope you never find out.
- Never find out what? - I'm not talkin' to you.
No, I'm talking to you. What do you mean, "never find out"?
There's a smell in 'ere.
I asked you a question. Find out what?
Right. Outside. Come on, let's have a little talk.
Get your 'ands off me, Johnny, or...
- you'll be coughin' up teeth. - Now, don't be...
Hoor!
Go on, Billy, Mark 'im! Mark 'im!
Arhh!
Now that is a big mistake.
Get out, Johnny, while you've still got a face.
Come on, come on, Johnny where's your guts??
- John, shouldn't we give 'im a hand? - Arh, you're off duty, Sergeant.
Entitled to finish your drink.
What're you waiting for??
Arrh!
Get 'old of 'im.
What've you...? Get him, get him, copper.
Arrh!
You stupid twerp!
I'm gonna kill yer! I'm gonna murder yer...
yer bleedin' great ponce!
I said outside.
I 'ate you, I really 'ate you!
Come on, then!
Get him out will you, what's the matter with yer?
What a lovely sight!
Who is he?
I don't know, but I'm taking him in.
Wait a minute, how long have you been there?
Well, I looked in but you seemed to be doing all right.
Hullo, Billy.
I didn't know he was one of yours, Mr Abberline.
Honest, I didn't.
But you're one of mine, aren't you, Billy boy?
I don't know anythin', Mr Abberline, honest.
I'd tell you if I did, wouldn't I?
Yes, you'd tell me, that's for certain.
Let him go, George. We'll pick him up tomorrow if we need him.
One of your snouts, is he?
So was his father before him.
Right, lads, come on, look sharp, look sharp.
Nothing changes.
George, I've just been to Bucks Row.
And there's something wrong. What?
Nobody heard her scream. There's at least eight families...
living opposite, and nobody heard a thing.
Well, that's Whitechapel, isn't it?
Hear no evil, speak no evil. Even with murder.
This isn't just murder, George.
This is something else. Something different.
I promise you won't be disappointed, Mr Lees
That's why everyone's standing back.
- Who is it? - It's the Queen's grandson.
Prince Albert Victor.
Duke of Clarence and Avondale. And the future King of England.
Well, he did promise you a special evening.
Shall we settle what remains?
Think before you answer, Lanyon.
It'll be done as you decide.
And if you say yes, Lanyon, I promise...
a province of knowledge and power shall be laid open to you.
Why in this very room, upon the instant, your sight shall be blasted.
And by a prodigy, Lanyon, I tell you...
he will stagger Satan.
Satan himself.
I have come too far, to pause before the end.
Very well. And you, too? Yes.
You, who have denied the virtues of transcendental medicine.
No. You, who have derided, consistently, your colleagues...
your superiors.
Behold.
No...!
- No, no, no, no. - Mr Lees.
Get him some Brandy.
I can see him. The faces, two faces.
No. S-stop them, somebody stop them.
Queen's medium sees killer!
Killer seen in dream!
Right, Dr Llewellyn.
Hul-ewellyn, actually.
Let's talk about blood.
The woman was disembowelled.
That would cause a heavy loss of blood.
An understatement.
How much was on the pavement, would you say?
It was dark, but a great deal, of course.
So dark that you didn't even notice...
that her "abdomen had been completely cut open..."
from the base of the ribs, under the pelvis, and across..."
to the left of the stomach."
Not at first, no.
How many pints of water, Doctor?
Four or five.
- It's hard to say. - Two.
Two pints.
I measured it. Deceptive, isn't it?
You spill a cup of tea, you think it's a flood.
And it's just that much liquid.
So what are you saying, Inspector?
What I'm saying is...
we can't be sure she was murdered where she was found.
Guv'nor, your visitor's here. I've put him in your office.
George, get a cab for Dr HUL-ewellyn.
- Is that all, Inspector? - Yes, Doctor.
For now.
Now, Mr Lees.
What's this about a play at the Lyceum Theatre?
You mean he does this, on the stage?
In full view of the audience.
Unbelievable.
My piece this morning was no exaggeration...
as you can see, Mr O'Connor.
Miss Prentice.
If you can produce a really life-like version by tomorrow, I'll print it...
with a new article from Mr Bates here.
- How life-like? - Draw it from life, Miss Prentice.
Draw it from life.
It's still fiction, Mr Lees.
There's no Dr Jekyll, there's no Mr Hyde.
- They don't exist. - But the actor does.
Now, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not mad.
I beg you; Come to the theater...
and see for yourself.
All right.
But you keep it to yourself.
Understood?
You are afraid of mockery.
I've lived with that all my life, Inspector.
What people don't understand they try to destroy.
They're trying to destroy you.
Aren't they?
Good evening, Mr lees.
No, you bastards.
It's not gonna be that easy.
I look like a midwife.
Yeah. Time to go home, Derek.
Well, what did Lees have to say?
First thing tomorrow, George, I want you to find me...
the best man on madness. Top expert in the country.
You mean from Bart's Hospital, somewhere like that?
Yeah, wherever the top man is.
What we need now, George, is the best man in the country...
on madness.
You think Lees is mad?
I hope not.
He's just given me a description of the murder.
Thank you very much, sir.
Right what'd you find out?
Sir William Withey Gull, MD, FRCS, FRS, LLD.
Member of the General Medical Council.
President of the Clinical Society. Books on diseases of the brain.
Papers on vivisection and cretinoid women.
And, physician to Her Majesty the Queen.
Inspector Abberline and Sergeant Godley, sir.
Good afternoon.
Sir William?
Not so distinguished, I'm afraid!
I'm Dr Acland. Er, he'll be here in a moment.
Would you er, care for some... milk?
- Yes, please. - No, thank...
Charles Darwin. Fellow of the Royal Society.
- Just like Sir William. - Darwin?
All our ancestors were monkeys.
That's the one. The Descent of Man.
- Something wrong with the milk? - No. Thank you.
There you are.
Sorry to keep you.
- William Gull. - Yes, Inspector Abberline.
Sergeant Godley.
- Sit down, sit down. - Right, sir.
Now, gentlemen...
did anybody offer you luncheon? Or are you self-sufficient?
George?
- Er, no, we've eaten, thanks. - Er, just a moment. Theo.
Don't be late back tonight, we have those French people coming.
The French?
A compelling argument for Darwin's theories.
Hah.
Good day to you, gentlemen.
Good day.
My son-in-law.
First-class mind...
even though he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
I don't hold that against him.
- Do you, Inspector? - I'd have to know him better, sir.
Good answer.
Now, your question.
Sir William - what exactly is madness?
Goodness me, we won't get through that in an afternoon!
Can you be more specific?
Well, is it possible to be half mad, like...
normal one minute and insane the next?
Fascinating question.
In my opinion yes, perfectly possible.
Though you won't find that in any text book.
- Why is that, Sir William? - Well, the concept of a...
multifaceted mind is, er, too radical for the...
medical profession to cope with.
In years to come it will be accepted as a matter or course.
But in the meantime, we lump such phenomena under the...
rather vague title of dementia praecox.
Could a man be, er, sane and insane, like, er, two different people?
Certainly, although most of my distinguished colleagues would...
- sneer at the very idea of it. - Sneer?
Knowledge hurts, Inspector, especially if it's new.
I mean, take this poor fellow, for example, Darwin.
Now, he was perfectly right. Yet millions of educated men...
still believe that the human race began with two...
naked lovers frolicking in the Garden of Eden.
You try saying the name Darwin to any churchman.
Or, for that matter, my own name to half the Medical Council.
If a man did have two minds, could they be opposite?
Like good and evil?
The Saint and the beast, you mean?
- Yeah. - In one human being?
Yes, I don't see why not.
I don't see why not.
Then very well!
Why, you, you who have denied the virtues of transcendental medicine.
You, who have derided, consistently, your colleagues, your superiors.
Behold.
- Please, Mr... - I don't care who they are.
- Mr... - I see nobody after a performance.
- I have told them that, Mr... - Do you understand me?
Well, you tell them again!
What did I tell you?
He never sees anyone. Happy?
- He'll see me. - Not if you were the Prince of Wales.
We're gonna have a little talk. That should be nice.
What are you doing? Let me go, let me go.
Who the devil are you people? Gentlemen, look.
If you don't leave this room at once I'm gonna have to call the police.
I am the police, Mr Ma...
Good evening, Frederick.
Hello, Emma.
Well, isn't this cosy? You know each other, obviously.
Are you a policeman, too?
Mr Lees is a clairvoyant.
A policeman and a clairvoyant.
I see.
Richard I... I should go.
- Really? I ordered us supper. - Please forgive me...
but I'm rather tired.
I thought we'd discuss the sketch.
I'll, I'll leave it here and collect it in the morning.
Good evening, gentlemen.
Good evening, Emma.
So, all right, enough. What the hell is this about?
If you could just tell us how you change into that monster?
What goes through your mind?
So you just come barging in here...
demanding to know how I turn into Hyde?
- Do you want the truth? - Please.
I don't know.
This is a police enquiry, Mr Mansfield.
- Answer his question. - A police enquiry?
Answer him.
Well, this is bizarre.
Very well. I observe and I imitate, do you understand?
And I do that over and over until I become the person that I want to be.
- Are you satisfied. - So...
if you, if you play a doctor, you go out and observe doctors...
- is that right? - Bravo.
And the other one; Mr Hyde.
How do you create a creature like that?
Talent, pure talent.
They're the worst, of course.
I dressed Irving once. That was agony, too.
- Goodnight, Miss Prentice. - Goodnight, John.
Er, what's he like? Mansfield?
I never betray a confidence - never.
My lips are sealed.
- What about? - Well, the women for a start.
And the places he goes to, well...!
You mean brothels, opium houses, that sort of place?
Well, sometimes, yes. How else could I observe these characters?
I mean, that is my job, isn't it?
So is Hyde someone you've met?
He's several people - don't you understand?
There's a criminal in New York I use for the voice...
there's a man here in London I use for the face...
- I-in... - In London?
The, er, East End, perhaps?
You see, I don't have to answer these questions.
Yes, you do. You ever been in Whitechapel?
Spitalfields, that sort of area?
Quite possibly, sir. I wouldn't recall the details.
When was the last time you saw this man, this real Mr Hyde?
I mean, was it last month, last week?
See, er, I don't keep a diary, so...
- Or was it last Friday? - What're you trying to say, sir?
A woman was killed last Friday.
And if your Mr Hyde was in the East End at the time...
I would like to meet him.
But you don't think I'm caught up in all that, do you?
All of what?
I would just like to meet the man who gave you your other face.
The man who looks like Mr Hyde.
And you're gonna introduce us.
Now!
- Are you sure this time? - Well, I recognise the door.
And will this Mr Hyde recognise you?
If not, the girls will.
Yes, the girls.
Women often do remember me, Inspector.
I'm getting awfully tired of your remarks, by the way.
If I am under any kind of suspicion here, you just say so.
Because I am a friend of royalty, you know.
I don't need to... Er, this is him, here. This is the man.
- Cor, yer bleeder! - Language, Rodman.
I've brought a friend of royalty to see you.
Bloody 'ell, it's you, Abberline.
- I thought you was dead. - I'm surprised you still know me.
I never forget a voice.
Good evening, er, we've never spoken...
but I was here last Friday.
In fact, you'll remember me, of course, because...
- Who is it, Mr Abberline? - It's not your lucky day, Mansfield.
Rodman here is stone blind.
Let's hope you're right about the girls, shall we?
Foreign girl, Rodman, name of Ann, Anika...?
Does a duet?
No, there's a gentleman in, Mr Abberline.
Well, let's get him out, shall we?
Hah! Very funny, Mr Abberline.
No!
Good evening, my lord.
Nice evening?
Let him go, George.
I know who he is. So does half of Whitehall.
- Are you Anika? - No.
Annette.
Have you ever met this man before?
Don't be frightened.
No.
Are you sure?
No.
Dixie!
Well, good old Dixie.
Yes, I was here last Friday around eleven, you said it was your birthday.
- Yes. - How long did he stay last Friday?
All night! Sometimes Monique was sleeping, sometimes I was sleeping.
La, zut.
All night.
I guess that's why they remember me.
I gave you a present, Annette, do you still have it?
This? You say it is gold. Now it is green.
Perhaps that's why they remember you? Hey?
Goodnight, Mr Mansfield.
Goodnight.
Nice evening.
Driver.
Can I take you anywhere?
Thank you.
Walk on.
Lees must have gone home, with Dixie.
Hair today, gone tomorrow.
You take the cab, George, I need to think.
You wouldn't be thinking about a certain young lady...
I saw at the theater tonight?
Emma Prentice?
Goodnight, George.
Don't be a fool, Fred, she's trouble.
Out, out you, out the cab!
What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?
We've been told to stop everyone in the area.
There's been another one.
- In Hanbury Street. - What?!
This one's worse. Kerby saw 'er - and threw up!
Right, get in. Hanbury Street!
Soon as I saw 'er, I started yellin'...
- an' the police come. - And what's your name?
John Richardson.
Kerby, get those people away from that fence, this isn't a side show.
Sir, I found this on the tap.
- It's leather apron, all wet. - Yes, I can see that, Derek.
Put it back. Did you send for the divisional surgeon?
Yes, sir, and the local one's just arrived with Inspector Spratling.
Kerby, I want everything left as it is, I want all your men out of this yard...
and get those people away from that fence!
You lot, off. Come on, all of you, out the yard.
Not you, Mr Richardson.
What time did you walk through here?
- Half past four. - And she wasn't here then?
- Not at half past four, no. - On your way to work?
Yeah.
- You ever use a knife? - Of course I do, but...
Now, look, I never done it.
Well, you can ask anybody!
There are two detectives inside taking statements. Give 'em yours.
No use shouting at Kerby, you know.
- Where's your own sergeant? - My sergeant is the only...
policeman in London who's not walking all over this bloody yard!
That I do know.
Police, open up.
Mansfield, open this door or I'll break it down.
Mansfield, open the door!
D'you hear me, Mansfield?
I'll break it down!
What d'you want?
Look, what the hell is it now?
I've been up the whole night with you people. I'm getting...
- tired of this... - Are these the clothes you wore?
- What is this? - Are these the clothes...
- you wore last night? - Yes.
Put them on again. Now.
Right. All right.
Watch your feet.
- Same killer, Dr Llewellyn? - Yes, no doubt about it.
- And you've seen these, of course. - Yes.
Her belongings, I imagine.
Well, they didn't fall like this, did they?
All very carefully arranged.
Very exact.
He's a savage one minute, tearing a woman apart like a sack of grain.
The next moment he carefully folds a piece of muslin.
Arranges her comb, her pills.
- What d'you make of that, Dr Llewellyn? - You're the detective.
You tell me.
Good morning, Dr Phillips, thank you for coming.
You know the, er, divisional surgeon, don't you?
He's gonna give us a second opinion.
- Good morning, Llewellyn. - Second opinion, on what?
The mutilations.
Excuse me.
Dr Llewellyn, before you go.
Do you mind telling me where you were last night?
Thanks for the tip, Mr Spratling.
The Star is always very grateful.
Who the hell are they?
The one in the hat's Richard Mansfield, the actor.
- The other one's Robert James Lees. - Who?
The Queen's fortune-teller, my friend.
Animals!
The Queen's fortune-teller!
Annie Chapman!
Who killed Annie Chapman?
What's your name then, miss?
I bet it's a lovely name as well as a lovely face.
Did you know Annie? Annie Chapman?
- So what the hell is going on? - Lift up your shoes.
- What? - Lift up your shoes.
This is absurd.
The other one.
- Yours too, Mr Lees. - He was washing when I arrived.
But he's clean, not a spot of blood anywhere. Same with him.
Are those the shoes you wore last night, Mr Lees?
- Yes. - Mansfield's bed hadn't been slept in...
the sheets were cold.
Out all night, Mr Mansfield? Or have you just got bad circulation?
Inspector, what I do with my time is my business, is that clear?
You know, I'll be seeing the US ambassador today.
He's a personal friend.
- When I tell him about this... - He'll be delighted to hear...
that you gave us your fullest cooperation...
for which we are most grateful.
Don't change your lodgings, without telling me.
Is that it? Is that what you brought us here for?
- Can you think of anything else? - You go to hell.
- Now, Mr Lees, what's your story? - I went straight home.
The cab driver will remember because I was sick on the way.
I had a vision, you see.
It was horrible.
And what did you see, this time?
A tall man, out there in the yard, I saw the blood.
Everything. But it was too late.
That's the trouble with the spirit world isn't it?
Always telling you after the event but never before.
Good day, Mr Lees.
You think I'm a charlatan, don't you? I can see it in your eyes.
I'll tell you one thing.
And in case you can't see this in my eyes, I'll say it out loud.
If you did see the killer, you'd better be careful who you tell.
He might come looking for you, mightn't he?
Ambassador.
Better be careful, Fred.
Yeah.
Hang 'im! Murderer!
- There's the other one! - The other one!
Let him through.
- Fred. - Yeah?
Someone's stirring that up.
They've got the truth, don't let 'em go!
Hang em!
This way gentlemen, I've got a cab waiting. Courtesy of The Star.
Come on.
Coppers, they work for the rich.
Get one of the boys to find Lees' cab driver, and check his story.
And find out if there was a baby born round here last night.
- Baby, why? - Dr Llewellyn said...
he was delivering one, in the next street.
But he can't remember the name of the mother.
We're still checking doctors from last time, and butchers.
We're gonna need more men, you know that, don't you?
Get a couple of hours' sleep, George.
I'll carry on with Mansfield.
If you mean talk to Emma Prentice...
then I'd better do it. Every time she crosses your path...
Why do I bother?
Who is it?
You're almost a year late.
I've been busy.
I had an interesting evening, with your friend last night.
- You mean you got drunk? - No.
I only drink in the afternoons now.
This is strictly business, is it?
Do you enjoy holding that door open?
There's a terrible draught through here, you know.
What do you want, Freddie?
Everything you know about Mansfield.
Mansfield?
There's nothing to know. He's young, handsome, famous...
- clever, talented. - Rich.
Witty, popular, amusing.
- Educated. - Well connected.
And as bald as an egg.
It'll end in tears, Freddie, it always does.
But we do have a laugh first, don't we?
Do we?
I've forgotten.
Leather cutting room! Leather apron!
Leather apron! Leather apron! Leather apron!
Leather apron. Pizer, pizer, pizer, pizer.
Pizer! Pizer! Pizer!
Move it. Come on, get back.
Hey, stop it.
What the hell d'you think you're doing?
Found an apron by the corpse, didn't they?
Well, he wears one. Murderer!
Hang him!
Leather apron! Leather apron! Leather apron!
- Hang him. - Pizer!
Pizer, murderer, hang him!
Get The Star.
Read all the latest ne-ews.
Star!
Yes, yes, of course.
I fear I may have talked too much, Mr Bates.
I'm not used to champagne, you see.
You, won't print anything untoward, will you?
Mr Lees.
Trust me.
Yes.
Well, goodbye.
You all right, mate?
They're trying to murder me! They're trying to murder me!
He's drunk.
- He's been drinking. Leave him. - They're gonna kill me.
No, no, don't leave me!
- They're gonna kill me! - He's been drinking.
Help me! Somebody.
Please!
Help me!
I told you, didn't I?
So she had no one looking after her?
- Not even a pimp? - Well, there's pimps...
and there's pimps, ain't there?
Billy, come over 'ere.
See, there's pimps - and pimps.
You see, Sergeant.
I've just said that, haven't I, Liz?
My, Gawd. Billy White.
Is that the dirtiest look you got?
The Sergeant 'ere wants to know if Annie Chapman had a pimp.
What if she had? Wouldn't have done 'er no good.
Word is, it's a copper that's doing it.
One 0' your lot.
Don't mind 'im, love. I take everything he says with a dose of salts.
I'll remember that.
Let me know if you hear anything, Cathy.
'Course I will, Georgie. You don't mind me calling you that, do you?
You look like a Georgie, Y'know what I mean?
That's funny. Does of salts!
Take everything he said with a dose of salts.
That's the trouble, Liz. Drinking with us, we're always six gins behind.
They're out to kill me, I know it. They're gonna kill me.
Now keep calm, Mr Lees.
Thank you, Derek. Sit down.
There you are.
I've drawn the coach, as best I could.
It's the crest on the side.
Is this the coach that ran you down?
- Yes. - But you didn't see the driver's face?
What does that matter? It's the coach that counts.
- Coach? - I'll never forget that coach, Inspector.
I've... ridden in it, you see.
When I went to see the Queen.
The Queen?
It's a royal coach.
- Are you sure? - Yes.
It has the crest on the side, it belongs to the Royal Mews.
Arrest. Murder reports.
Have you told anybody about this?
Anybody else at all?
No, I, I came straight here.
Well, don't.
Because, I assume you understand...
the significance of what you just said?
Fred, you see who that was?
Queen's grandson.
His Royal Highness Prince Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence, Sergeant...
that's who that was.
Mr Thackeray, you sure there were no royal coaches like this...
out on the streets yesterday?
Quite sure, Inspector, the coach that just left was on standby all day.
The other two are being repainted. You can see them if you like.
Could somebody, er - I don't know how to put this - er...
borrow one for a couple of hours?
Borrow one? This is the Royal Mews, Inspector, it is not a cab company.
No, of course not. Sorry for taking up your time.
- Good day, Mr Thackeray. - Good day, Inspector.
Now wait, I'll, er, ask a scratch driver, they usually know what's available.
Scratch driver? Freelance, what for?
He thinks we want to borrow a coach.
I'll strangle that Lees.
Royal crest, my eye.
Don't wanna be late for the Commissioner.
Excuse me. Er, I hear you want a coach?
Er, not really, no.
The Mews Master said you wanted one.
No, it's a mistake, he got it wrong.
Wait a minute. Come here.
D'you think you could find one like that?
I'm a freelance, guv'nor. Find you anything.
For money, of course.
It's your lucky day George, see yer tonight.
All right. Good luck.
Er, do you need horses, do you, or is it just a coach you want?
Well, that depends, don't it?
You were right to bring this to my attention, Abberline.
But from what you say you don't take Mr Lees' story seriously.
Is that right?
Not without proof, Commissioner, no.
When you first started on this case...
I thought you were the wrong man for the job.
- Sir? - But the way you've handled this...
royal coach business has been most discreet.
Exemplary.
In exactly forty minutes I'm seeing the Prime Minister at ten Downing Street.
I'd like you in attendance.
- Me, Commissioner? - You, Inspector.
Take, er, Prince Albert Victor.
Now, he's always good for a fiver after a night out.
Down the East End, know what I mean?
You drive him too? The Prince?
Not personally, no. But I'm a privateer, see.
This old coach, here, it's my own coach.
- I own it. - Do you?
I'm at the Palace two days a week.
- What about the rest of the time? - Medical profession.
Doctors. I drive surgeons, mostly.
- I'm on all the lists. - Lists? What lists?
'Ospitals. Only the big ones, mind.
I only do the big ones. I leave the rest to the peasants.
These doctors, they must need drivers all of the time, of course.
I'm a doctor meself.
- Really? - And a good one, too.
I've studied it, see.
Libraries and places, pick up a lot from books.
If I'd been born on the right side of the blanket...
I'd have been a top surgeon by now.
- Well, it's in the mind. - And you've got the mind for it.
I've got the hands, too.
Surgeon's hands.
Steady as a rock. See?
Blimey, is that the time?
Well, I've got to go. I'm due at the hospital in half an hour.
Ask for me at the Mews. John Netley.
Dr Netley, they call me.
- What's your name. - George.
George.
I'll look out for a coach for you then, George.
But are you in control?
There is now a so-called vigilante committee...
in Whitechapel, is there not?
- Prime Minister, if I... - What're we to expect next, Commissioner?
Armed mobs on the streets?
Last time you sent in the troops.
That was a political uprising, Prime Minister, this is a murder case.
The Secretary of State for the Home Department...
may wish to comment on that.
Thank you, Prime Minister.
Charles, only a year ago we had full-scale rioting in Trafalgar Square.
People were injured.
Here, at the heart of the greatest empire the world has ever seen.
The papers called it Bloody Sunday, and you were held responsible.
- Secretary of State, I... - Now we have armed vigilantes...
on the streets of Whitechapel.
This government cannot tolerate further civil strife, whatever the cause.
Even for a murder case.
Neither can the Queen.
- The Queen? - Mr Abberline.
You're responsible for this case, do you have everything you need?
I could always do with more men, sir.
Then the Commissioner will arrange it. Good day, gentlemen.
Prime Minister, Secretary of State.
Henry, the Queen's concerns are a matter for her and for us, no one else.
Now, what exactly are these rumours about her grandson...
- Prince Albert Victor? - Well, they say the Prince has been...
seen in a house of ill repute, Prime Minister.
A brothel? It's unfortunate.
- Where? - Whitechapel.
In the very area where these murders are taking place.
Take this away now, will you.
It's been confirmed, Fred. Same knife, same cuts, same killer.
Dr Phillips, at the inquest, er, can you do something for me?
Certainly, what?
Can you keep one thing, one, er, characteristic, of this killing...
absolutely secret?
Leave one thing out and don't tell anyone what it is.
Dr Llewellyn, can I do something for you?
I...
I left my bag.
Excuse me.
Extraordinary behaviour.
Yeah.
It doesn't matter what it is, Doctor, so long as only you and I know about it...
and no one else.
Keep one of the injuries secret, you mean?
Yeah, nothing big but something important.
And then you tell me, in secret.
Would you excuse us, Doctor, we've got a lot to do. George.
Right, your coachman. Is he out looking for black coaches?
Have to find his brain first, he thinks he's a doctor!
What's your news?
We've got extra men, officers, transport - everything we need.
All we gotta do is ask.
The Commissioner offered you all that?
Commissioner? Er, not exactly, no.
- How the hell d'you manage it then? - Natural charm.
And last of all, I want a list of every ship, barge...
tug and bucket moored in the Pool of London...
at the time of the murders.
Complete with the names of every crew member, including the ship's cat.
So that's doctors, medical students, butchers, slaughtermen...
chiefs, ships' cooks, barbers, and anybody...
with a history of violent crime, from Aldgate to Mile End.
What about artists, sir?
Artists?
Well, some of 'em cut up horses. To see how they work.
George Stubbs did that, and he was an artist.
All right, son. Artists as well.
Now, on this board, we have everything we know...
about the man we're looking for.
It's from the statements of the nine people who saw the victims...
talking to a man, shortly before they were killed.
So now, write this down.
Are you ready? Up to six feet.
- Long coat. - Coat.
Deer stalker or peaked cap.
- Carrying a parcel, or bag. - Parcel. Right.
Light hair, could be grey. Thirty or forty. Could be older.
Soft spoken, could be foreign.
- Could be half the men in London. - Could be you, Kerby.
Anyway...
he knows the area, he's physically strong...
and he may have medical knowledge.
- Sounds like a midwife. - Hope you're not...
married to one, Spratling.
- What about a pimp, sir? - We're checking 'em anyway.
Any more questions?
Right, off you go.
Did you know City Police are putting half their men into plain clothes?
Run out of uniforms, have they?
No, they're gonna beat you Scotland Yard boys to it.
Thought you'd like to know.
I'm gonna get them when this is over.
- No, you're not. - Why not?
'Cause I am.
Hold on, boys.
Where d'you think you're going? Where's Abberline?
Llewellyn did deliver a baby that night.
A Mrs Kandinsky.
There was no clock in the house so we don't know exactly when he left.
- Keep him on the list. - I told you, you're going nowhere.
- Where's he hiding? - I told yer once.
Abberline! Abberline!
I want a word with you.
The name's Lusk.
- George Lusk. I'm Chairman... - Chairman of the so-called...
vigilante committee.
I wondered when you were gonna show your face.
I'll show you more than a face, Abberline.
- I'll show you a hundred armed men. - And what might they be for?
He can't keep the streets safe for ordinary working people.
Can you? So we're gonna help you.
Are you now?
Well, unplug your ears, Lusk, because I'm gonna tell you something.
I grew up with these people and they matter to me.
I know what matters to you.
It's written all over your face.
Power.
So take my advice and go home.
The revolution may not start this week.
Abberline.
- It was a bit sharp wasn't it? - Only a bit? I must be getting old.
Inquest tomorrow, do you want to see Phillips' report?
I hate politicians. George, find me a volunteer for the Lusk mob.
Tell him to keep his eyes open.
- Volunteer, what for? - If I was a killer I'd join up with Lusk...
and go out at night looking for meself - wouldn't you?
Done. Er, what about the phantom coach?
Do you still want me to chase up John Netley?
John doctor coachman? No.
His sort are all wind and piss.
Like that rat catcher in Peckham. Do you remember that?
No, he was different. He was all piss and wind.
Lovely.
- Relaxes the throat. - Last time it relaxed your brain.
Yes, Mother!
Cheer up, George. We're winning!
Is that a promise?
Yes, my old friend.
That is a solemn promise.
Order, please.
I have asked for all children to be removed from the court...
because of the nature of the evidence we're about to hear.
And I would ask the gentlemen of the press to consider carefully...
whether all the details are fit for publication.
And proceed, Dr Phillips.
The woman's abdomen had been laid open.
The intestines had been severed from their mesenteric attachments...
lifted out in their entirety, and placed on the shoulder of the corpse.
From the angle of the cuts, it is clear that the knife was...
held in the left hand, rather than the right...
as all the cuts were made in that direction.
Left-handed. Llewellyn never noticed that.
Look who just walked in.
The uterus, together with its appendages...
Doesn't mind being noticed, does he?
And the posterior two thirds of the bladder had been removed...
together with the upper part of the vagina.
Dr Phillips, were these organs removed separately, one by one?
- They were, sir. - With medical knowledge?
Coroner, I have never seen such terrible things...
done by any member of my profession.
You mean it was frenzied?
- The act of a mad man? - No, sir. Quite the reverse.
The organs were removed purposefully. Individually.
It would've taken a skilled surgeon at least fifteen minutes...
to have cut away so many...
- one at a time. - Thank you, Dr Phillips.
We will hear more from you tomorrow.
Now, members of the jury...
Fifteen minutes. He took his time didn't he?
- The cause of death... - Our friend is leaving.
Failure of the heart's action in consequence of loss of blood...
caused by the severance of the throat.
- Dr Acland. - Inspector, how nice to see you.
I didn't know you were interested in this case?
You created the interest yourself, Inspector, by coming to the hospital.
And I've known Dr Phillips for some time, so...
- You on your way to the Opera? - What?
- The Opera. - The togs!
No, not the Opera. Melodrama at the Lyceum.
- Lyceum, that's Jekyll and Hyde. - Yes. I've got free tickets.
My only claim to fame.
- How was that, Dr Acland? - The actor came to me for advice.
He plays a doctor, you see. Charming man, an American called Mansfield.
Quite, er, quite famous, I believe.
And what advice did you give him?
I showed him an autopsy, removal of the viscera.
Mansfield watched a post-mortem?
Yes, preparing for his part.
People usually faint at autopsies, don't they?
But he sent me free tickets.
So it didn't upset him too much!
Good day, gentlemen.
I wonder if Mansfield's a left-hander?
I wonder if Acland is?
On yer feet, Pizer.
Jack Pizer's a shoemaker. They call 'im Leather Apron.
- Do you know why you're here? - Yeah, they were gonna lynch me.
- They threw brinks at my window... - Where's your liver?
They didn't give me no liver.
- Those are beans. - Not yer food, on yer body.
Where is it?
That's yer kidneys.
Catch.
Right-hander.
This one's Isenschmid, the butcher, sir. They were gonna drown him.
- You speak English? - Ja, ja, naturlich.
Where on your body is your liver?
- Ja, it is here. - No - where exactly is it?
- You-you're a butcher, aren't you? - For the pig, I know exactly.
For a people, maybe here...?
No, that's only in Bavaria. In the rest of the world that's your bladder.
Pick up your knife and fork.
Sweet dreams, Herr Isenschmid.
Dummkopf.
They're both right-handers George, let 'em go.
Done. Fred. Yeah?
Where is your liver?
Well, it's under yer ribs, on the right.
Just making sure you knew, that's all.
Get some sleep, George.
Thank you, Nurse.
I'll take rounds at three, carriage at five-thirty.
Yes, Dr Acland.
I'm so sorry. I thought you were alone.
No, come in, Bill.
You're just what we need, a second opinion.
I'll try. Good afternoon, Inspector.
Removing a kidney, in the dark.
- Or a bladder, say; Could you do it? - In the dark?
And without damaging any other organs, not a scratch.
Now, don't let me down, I've just said my son-in-law could do it blindfold.
Good heavens, no.
Half an inch to the left or right and you've...
cut into another part of the viscera.
I presume this is your murder case, Inspector.
- Yes. - Couldn't he have had a lamp?
Anything is possible, Dr Acland.
Forgive me, I need your opinion on the hemiplegia. May I leave the file?
You will in any case, dear boy, no matter what I say.
Please excuse me, inspector, this place is rapidly becoming Bedlam.
- Well, is that it? - There is one more thing, Sir William.
If you have a moment.
One of the great paradoxes of life, Inspector...
is that all that one is left, at my age, is time.
How can I help you?
Have you seen the play, Jekyll and Hyde?
No, but I feel as though I have. Theo can't stop talking about it.
Sounds pure nonsense to me, I'm afraid.
But the other day you said that one man could be two different people.
Yes, but not by drinking a potion.
I meant, changing from within. An act of will.
You mean, doing it on purpose?
When I was a boy, Inspector, an infected wound could result in death.
Today...
today I can cut my finger, quite deliberately...
let it fester, on purpose.
And then cure it in a moment...
by dipping it in antiseptic.
Now, a few years ago the world would've laughed at such an idea.
But by boldness and experiment, the truth was found.
It will be the same with the mind.
So there, there could be a real-life Jekyll and Hyde?
A man who could turn himself into a monster?
Yes, I see no reason why not.
But would he have the power to restore the Dr Jekyll in himself?
An equally fascinating question, don't you think?
Evening, sir.
I wasn't, I wasn't asleep, sir.
Of course not, go home, son.
Anything I can do, sir?
Guv'nor?
Good night, Derek.
Who are you...
you bastard?
Get The Star.
"Dear boss, I keep hearing the police have caught me."
"And that joke about the leather apron gave me real fits."
"I'm down on whores and I shan't quit ripping them until I get buckled."
- "The next job I do..." - I found him, Mr O'Connor.
- Where the hell've you been, Bates? - Vigilantes. Hello, Mr Paulson.
"The next job I shall do, I shall clip the ladys' ears off just for jolly...
wouldn't you? Yours truly, Jack the Ripper."
- Jack the Ripper? - "P.S. Don't mind me giving away..."
the trade name. They say I'm a doctor now. "
Jack the Ripper! It's a newsman's dream.
- We aim to please at Central News. - I'll buy it, Mr Paulson...
we'll talk terms later.
Bates is going with you to Whitechapel.
I'm writing the lead story, I want a special in the streets in one hour.
Arrived this morning at the Central News Agency.
Mr Paulson here brought it straight to The Star.
That is an exclusive, that is.
- I get three letters a day like this, Bates. - In red ink?!
Hum, nasty touch, that.
Shocked everyone at your news agency, didn't it Mr Paulson?
Yeah.
People do this kind of thing as a joke. They think it's funny.
I don't. Goodbye.
Here, Bill, give us a hand over 'ere, will yer?
- I'm busy, I'll be there in a minute. - Come on, what're you doin'?
Can't you give us a few words for the readers? They'll expect something.
I'll do better than that, I'll give you a dozen letters more boring than this one.
On second thoughts, write your own.
George.
- Read that. - God, not another one.
Me bruvver done it, it's the Jews. I'm a giant vulture.
Read that last line.
"The next job I do I shall clip the lady's ears off...
and send them to the police officers just for jolly."
Hum, so what?
Do you know what Doctor Phillips didn't say at the inquest?
What, the thing he kept secret, you mean?
The ears. He cut the ears. Not off; He just cut them.
Now - I knew that, Phillips knew that, and so did the killer.
Now, why does this joker say, "next time I'll cut the ears OFF"?
Doesn't prove our man wrote this, does it?
No. Unless there's another one.
- Another one? - George...
I want every statement, report and file we've got.
We'll find it if it takes all night.
Well, don't just sit there, go and get it.
Jack the ripper! Jack the ripper, ladies and gentlemen.
Letter from the ripper. Come on, ladies and gentlemen.
- Get yer star! - Over here, boy.
Thank you very much, sir. Come on, now...
Jack the ripper. Jack the ripper.
Letter from Jack the ripper.
- Police investigation. - There you go, boy.
- Get yer star, get yer star. - I'll have one of those, boy.
- Letter from jack the ripper. - Just one, son.
Charles, good to see you again. Sit down.
Er, that'll be all for tonight, thank you, Peter.
The er, Prime Minister wants to know if you've heard about this rumour...
- that's going round the clubs. - Rumour, Secretary of State?
What rumour?
About the Queen's grandson, Prince Albert Victor.
With the greatest respect to the Prime Minister, there's been malicious...
gossip about the Prince for years. And I...
- Concerning Whitechapel? - Whitechapel?
The latest gossip...
connects him with a house of ill repute in Whitechapel.
He's said to go there incognito. And to be a frequent visitor.
- Is it true? - Good heavens, man...
it doesn't have to be true.
If it involves the man who may one day be the...
King of England, the truth will be irrelevant.
It's the rumour that'll be remembered.
And the damage to the monarchy could be incalculable.
Does the Queen know?
That's not for me to say.
But if the papers get a hold of this rumour...
every fanatic, anarchist, and anti-monarchist...
in England will be running through the streets...
screaming for a bloody revolution.
It's started already. This vigilante man...
George Lusk; He's got a hundred followers.
Yeah, and how many do you think there would be...
if the Prince's name got linked to headlines like these?
What exactly are you asking me to do, Henry?
Find this killer.
Whoever he is.
We'll do the rest.
- Right, what are we looking for? - Pairs, George, I told you - pairs.
There's a hundred and seventy-one of these.
All single statements. None of 'em tie up.
Look, two butchers in the same pub. Two sailors on the same ship.
There's got to be a link, somewhere.
Keep going.
The Lord love us, Liz, will you take this!
Look, Mary Jane, you need protection, I supply it.
It's as simple as that.
Yeah, what's it gonna cost me, then? Three nights' work a week?
Don't trust 'im, love. They 'anged 'is dad.
Look, why don't you mind your own bloody business?
- Here you are. - That's mighty fine of you, Billy.
- Same again? - Yes.
Same again, please, pet.
- So who did write it? - His partner.
He must've had a partner. Otherwise...
how could he have worked in that yard for fifteen minutes?
And that's why we're looking for pairs.
Right.
'Ello!
'Ere, I've got 'em back, Mary.
Pinched 'em, more like.
She didn't pinch them, she hooked them, they're mine.
I've been in the cells. Bloody copper says I was drunk.
- I give 'em your name as well, love. - Cathy!
- Nice friends you've got. - You are nobody's friend, Billy White.
But I am your protector. Aren't I, Liz?
All right, George, ask yourself this.
Why are the witnesses...
so confused about this stranger they're supposed to have seen?
He could have light hair, could be grey.
Could be average height, he could be tall.
It's a deerstalker hat, it's a peaked cap.
They don't know who they're describing...
- do they? - Because there's two of them.
George, there's got to be.
Somewhere, in all of this, there's got to be a pair.
Keep going.
Goodnight, sir.
Goodnight, Rodman.
If she doesn't want to, leave her alone.
Look, I won't tell you again, get out there an' earn your bread!
- You see what he's like, Mary? - Just get off, will you...
you old bag.
I'll be back - you see if I'm not!
Now, Mary Jane, what's it to be? Protection, or stay on your own?
Sex, revenge, robbery.
Not a pair among 'em. Sorry, Guv'nor.
What's missing in all this, George?
Motive.
There isn't any motive.
Lusk. Bates. Mansfield, Acland.
Lees. Llewellyn.
Thought you might like some tea, sir.
- Derek, it's better than Kerby's. - Thanks, sir.
We should do one another favours, Frankie, you and me.
Why don't we start by you doing me one?
You've had enough, Cathy, I can smell it from 'ere.
Frankie, be a dear, go stick yer 'ead in a bucket and kick it.
What's the matter, girl? My God!
My years of...!
- What's going on? - Find Spratling now!
Berner Street, Dutfield's Yard.
Hello.
Look at them. Hello.
Hello.
Are you asleep up there?
If the clock strikes you'll turn to salt. D'you know that?
All I wanted was a glass of gin.
He's playing with us, George. Some people are so damned cocky...
they think they can't be caught.
We're talking about the Queen's grandson.
You're finished, Abberline, the people are taking over.
Long live the revolution!
Shall I make up an alibi? Shall I say I went to bed with him?
Is that what you want to hear?
Yellow hair. She's got b-beautiful yellow hair.
No! No!