Ripper Street

You forget your hopes, sir, because this Whitechapel

is coming from you.

It will take the purest of them.

And it will shatter it into shards of pure poison.

I did it for you, Tilda.

I still only want for you and I to be able to walk

clean of this mess.

And now you're happy to let me hang along side you when I bust

my ass in here to free you.

Yes.

On that matter, it is my own strategy.

And that strategy being what, Francis?

Francis Nadger is going to exhume

the body of Robert Sumner.

All that kill must be punished.

My name is Caitlan Swift and I wish to surrender

myself to the police.

I too wish to surrender myself to the police.

For what crime?

Murder.

Whose?

Liam Matofski.

and Mr. Drake.

I do not know you, sir.

Who is this boy?

Gustas.

You know.

Take control of your station house, Inspector.

Your voice makes me want to shit!

That's right, Constable.

All Whitechapel stands agog, much

like Scotland Yard sends a battalion to free their chief.

Be calm, lad.

You be calm.

I seen Gustas kill him.

You witnessed Sargent Thatcher's shot.

Mr. Drummond, I believe him.

And who is he that we should give his word credence?

Who are you at all, Miss Harper?

In.

You're going leave her be, Captain.

Then you shoot me now, Captain.

Cause this is how I done, by the law or it is none.

11 days, John.

Captain, and he shall let you do yours.

It is only you can make this case.

That was my Uncle Bennet's chair.

And before it was his, it was my father's

Inspector Drummond.

Are you returned to your authority?

Have you prevailed?

Leave us.

Now, you wish to make your case, you.

The man in the cells beneath, he who says he is your brother.

I'm going to interview him.

Drummond.

I'm going to make written record of it.

You will release me, Inspector.

Now!

Do you know what you are tearing down here.

The two of you, what of your life together?

Your future.

A murdered child on a mortuary slab,

the entropy of the universe extended

to a maximum, Mr. Duff.

Every stroke of this blade to this boy's body,

I'm imaging it done to you, sir.

I'm hearing your screams.

I do not know how, how long we sailed,

but I do remember the stage, Miss.

I remember the fear.

Go on, sir.

I do not know how my brother found Rabbi Leon,

but he brung him from Paris in the hope he might know how

best to quiet my temper, sir.

But that counsel, he did not soothe me.

It only roused my hunger.

I had to feed it.

Because you see, Miss, he had shown me myself,

my childhood self.

I saw the forest and the ease and grace

with which the wolves might move through it,

whilst we simply trudged.

So and slow.

And as the rabbi spoke of the morning they found her,

I did not think on the side of my mother,

of my mother's body and blood.

I thought only on that power and the pure purpose of their need.

And how that need might be met.

There's no frothing the water logged into the lungs.

There are, however, tiny hemorrhages

to the lining thereof.

The burst capillaries beneath the eyelids, the cause of death

was suffocation.

Contusions about the neck and face, similarly to his fists.

We may therefore presume his death a violent one.

Within the lining of the respiratory tract

there are trace elements inhaled at the point of death

and adhered within.

So we have a wool fiber.

Wool's an alpaca blend, charcoal gray in color.

Most likely from the person who throttled.

The suspect is frequently seen sporting such an overcoat,

Inspector, correct?

Gray alpaca.

Am I the only man in London with a woolen coat?

No, I am not.

You have no witness, no physical evidence.

You have no fingerprints, Mr. Reid.

You must surely see a.

These men, these criminal murdering men

wish to tar me with a black pitch of their own heart.

Mr. Reid, Captain, please.

The boy must be found on the man, or the man on the boy.

Augustus.

They found a man, a madman known to the police as such.

There was an attack on another rabbi, see?

And so, that was Mr. Isaac Bloom.

Yes.

And I hear them say how they would take my axe

and they would hand them to him.

Captain, whatever it is you hunt for, please find it.

He will find nothing, because there's nothing to find,

save the wreckage of your life along with his.

My, sir, you are flush.

Maybe-- You feeling all right?

You feeling quite well, sir?

There's infection within.

Swollen tongue and a throat red with infection, an infection he

might have set lost on any soul with whom

he came into contact, particularly one

which was trying to kill him.

Because he would have fought.

He would have spat and screamed.

He would have clutched and clawed

for the breathing of air.

And he would spread that infection

all over the man whose arms were now choking the ten

little years of life from him.

There's a fever rising in you sir.

Is there a chill through your bones like a nameless haunting?

Well, I have the name for it.

You brave, clever little boy, Robin Sumner

The gift you bring with you.

And sir, will you confirm your spoken confession

that you murdered Inspector Bennett Drake?

Yes, Miss.

And Assistant Commissioner Dove and

Augustus knew it.

Augustus knew it all.

And it was Augustus killed Abel?

Abel Croker wished to take my life.

But Augustus Dove, he, he took it instead.

Augustus saved me.

Gustus always saved me.

Did you catch scarlet fever as a boy?

-I did. -So did I. Caitlin too.

Now what that means is that once caught,

we cannot catch it again.

Now Miss Morton, I believe has not suffered it before,

because she suffers it now.

And where else might she have contracted

it, but from a sickly child who is taking refuge with her?

It's like a string of purple pearls, streptococcus pyogenes.

Scarlet fever.

Sir, Commissioner Bradford.

Well, Fred what do you say?

It is like cat meat soup, Teddy.

You should know, your own presence

here, a retired civilian gone rogue, it's unconscionable.

But under current circumstances, there is one more intervention

you might perform for us. -Reid.

There will be an inquiry, internal.

But we here have decided what Edmund Reid's fate should be.

The others?

Your man, Dove?

Imagine the world's joy at our disgrace, Fred.

No.

Sudden illness, lengthy convalescence,

disappearance from public life.

Get him out.

Dartmoor Prison will receive a new inmate.

However, the victim of a clerical blunder.

His paperwork lost, a man likewise.

Think how far we came, brother, how very far.

Gustus, where do you go?

Shh, we must be brave.

I knew chaos and horror a good long time before I

came to Whitechapel, Mr. Reid.

I'm to bring you out as well, sir.

It trouble you, lad, if I take your prisoner for a walk?

Augustus Dove is to be buried deep and forgot.

Our shame alongside.

Most of the reason for our stroll.

How else is the pit to be lined?

The brother, that beast, he is to be choked,

and in short order.

The woman, Hart, similarly.

What else, Edmund? Clemency?

The captain?