Dickensian

Father.

What time is it?

CHATTER

Arrested any more innocents lately, Mr. Bucket?

I shall see justice done, Mr. Scrooge,

if I have to arrest every last man in London.

Fancy a pie?

So, see, Mr. Jaggers, it only takes five of my fellow merchants

to lend me £10 of stock apiece. - Why would that be in their interest?

Well, there is a kinship amongst our company of cloth workers

and Barbary is a name both trusted and respected -

and, besides, I've lent stock on more than one occasion.

Even if this works it will give you a fraction of what you owe.

It will buy me a month's trading,

time enough to find a more permanent solution. - I'll be frank.

This is a fool's errand.

Scrooge possesses neither patience nor mercy.

You'd be better to return home

and prepare your family for what's to come.

You underestimate me, sir.

It's one thing for me to face disgrace

but I will not see my daughter shamed.

Not for the life of me.

The finest pies in London. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Dawkins?

Had better - and ain't no-one calls me Dawkins.

I'll go by the Artful Dodger, or just plain Dodger,

if it's all the same.

Cast your mind back to the night of Jacob Marley's murder.

Fagin tells me he spent a quiet night at home.

If that's what he says, I ain't going to contradict a gentleman.

Such terrible doings.

I just hope you catch the cove what done him in, Mr. Bucket.

A running man will trip soon enough.

The slightest slip is all it takes.

So you can let it be known, Bucket is waiting...

...Bucket is watching...

...and he will have his man.

The day is coming when Fagin will hang.

But there's still time for you, Dawkins. You're a smart lad.

Change your path now and you could live to see your 16th birthday.

Food for thought, sir.

Food for thought indeed.

My compliments to Mrs. Cratchit.

She is verily the Michelangelo of the mutton pie.

Now, how much do I owe you?

Little...!

I'll pay you later. I'll come back.

Thank you very much.

Come on, keep up.

No dawdling.

BOYS MUMBLE

- Stop complaining. - Oh! - Sorry, sir.

Come on. Work to be done.

Kindly tell Mr. Darley that Edward Barbary presents his compliments.

Yes, sir.

Mr. Wegg, you poor wretch.

I couldn't sleep a wink last night,

knowing I'd left you at the mercy of this frightful place.

I can see it in your eyes.

My dark tales have burnt into your soul.

- You don't deny it. - Well, I... - But fear not.

You will never again spend a night alone.

Sairey shall watch over you

and there's nothing I won't do to lift your spirits.

Then perhaps you might find time to lay your healing hands

once more upon my swollen appendage.

Jip!

Jip?

Jip?

I'm sorry, sir.

Now, now, Mr. Bucket, we can't just go pointing the finger.

Last time you accused me

of filching a diamond ring I'd come by through entirely honest means.

My wallet, if you please, and now.

Else we can let the Old Bailey decide the matter.

Dodger.

Might you know anything of this gentleman's wallet, my dear?

What a coincidence.

I come by it in a gutter not a half hour ago.

I think perhaps the boy deserves a finder's fee, do you not, Mr. Bucket?

I'm quite sure he's had one.

Must weigh heavy, Inspector,

knowing the murderer is still at large.

Don't toy with me, Fagin.

Careful, my dear, you'll do yourself an injustice.

THEY LAUGH

It's such an important dinner. Look.

Are you quite sure, my dear?

Surely once they're lit by candle

and we've dabbed the gravy from our chins

who's to know the difference? - I shall know.

These aren't fit for even the lower orders, Bumble.

How can we hope to impress Mr. Gradgrind with such napery?

Why would he employ a man who tolerates such indignities?

You're quite right, my dear, of course. How foolish of me.

You must purchase a new set at once.

Whichever kind you like.

Let no expense be spared.

HE SIGHS

CHATTER

The murderer eludes me at every turn.

Damn it, Mr. Venus,

if the detective won't prove effective,

then why do we even exist?

If I might presume, Mr. Bucket, every man needs an outlet.

An outlet, you say?

I'm blessed that my hobby is become my profession.

The tasteful setting of the deceased beast.

But if a man has nothing in his life besides work,

then surely...

his spine shall look like a question mark.

One little crack now.

CRUNCH Oh!

I have no time for hobbies.

Although in my youth I was reckoned for something of a singer.

- Mrs. Bucket was particularly impressed. - It's no wonder, sir.

Women are most susceptible to music.

I myself have brought tears to a woman's eyes

using nothing but my squeeze-box.

Does a woman's constitution really differ so from a man's, Mr. Venus?

As different as a mongoose is to a snake.

A man contains his anxieties like a barrel

till he's rendered almost like a hunchback. One more.

CRUNCH Ugh!

And a woman?

A woman lives only to talk.

It is her raison d'etre.

Offer her a sympathetic ear

and she will unburden her soul in its entirety.

Quite so, Mr. Venus. Quite so.

CRUNCH Ugh!

A widow lodging with an unmarried gentleman, it isn't proper.

Tongues will wag, Mrs. Gamp.

Oh, I'm well beknown as a woman of medicine.

And it's a matter of record

that what legs he have left is of poor condition.

And what's improper about doing your Chris... hic!...tian duty?

Oh, dear Mr. Wegg.

I was just telling Miss Biggetywitch how our proximity

shall doubtless prove mutually beneficial.

And I believe we both shall enjoy

full satisfaction from our arrangement, do you not, Mr. Wegg?

I most sincerely do hope so, madam.

Oh! Mm!

Now, I believe I may take a little rest

as is my habit this time of day.

See you anon, dearie.

That's the thing with you, girl.

You're like one of them faithful old dogs everybody kicks,

but still they just keep on coming back for more.

You silver-tongued devil, Bill(!)

- I'm quite overcome. - That ain't what I mean.

I mean you and Fagin, the way he treats you.

- Anyway, that will change soon enough. - How? Change how, Bill?

I paid him some and will get the rest as soon as I can.

- Paid for what? - What do you think? For you.

DOOR CLOSES

So, sir, is the situation yet salvaged?

The response thus far has been disappointing.

- Then surely it's time to accept... - I accept nothing!

Not until I've exhausted every last avenue there is.

Miss Havisham?

I'm sorry to call unannounced,

but one of my investments is in a shipping company.

My geography is sorely lacking.

Mr. Pocket mentioned you have a fine library.

Yes. I'd be glad to see it used.

And... also, I have a young friend with me and I wondered if,

well, perhaps he might join me?

Jip's been gone less than a day.

You think I could just replace him? Have you no heart at all?

I confess, Miss Nancy, I'm finding you a puzzling contradiction.

You're a young woman with a strong will and a mind of your own.

Yet, forgive me, you'll submit to any man with coin enough to buy you.

- They buy my time. They ain't buying me. - I'm glad to hear it.

I'd hate to think your life was not your own.

So, it is your choice to spend an evening

in the company of Jacob Marley, not Fagin's?

Let's say I found a reason to put Fagin behind bars,

let's say an alibi turned out to be false, just for instance...

...I suppose your life would look a little different.

I suppose so.

You know you can talk to me in confidence.

I've all the time in the world,

and I promise to listen without judgment.

This usually work, does it?

- Hm? - You offer me a sympathetic ear, I give you my life's history,

and somehow while I'm crying on your shoulder the truth slips out.

That your plan, was it?

So, what do you want to know?