The Artful Dodger

Dodge, you know I did warn you about diggin' up the dead.

Still, nobody could have predicted an exploding corpse.

You know, I rather enjoyed my life before you showed up.

That's nice. To the man who raised you.

You're a blight, Fagin.

- A canker. - Things will turn.

It'll take time before we reach the lofty tops of our success

when we was the toast of London.

We weren't even the toast of Clerkenwell Green.

My coat!

Hey, look, I found your sit-upons. You see, our luck's changing.

Oh, our carriage awaits.

You're not flaggin' it down?

Oi.

Wait.

Bloody hell! It's that Gaines geezer.

- Quick, hide yourself. Hide. - Okay.

Gentlemen, would you care for a lift?

No, just out for a stroll.

Oh, I insist.

Aight.

You have any luck with them marrows?

You should bring 'em round, so as I can take a look at them.

You want to look at my shrivelled marrows?

You're not wrong.

Sherbet. You know, the sun's up.

I'd better rush back before anyone wakes.

You can't stay for a boiled egg?

No, they'll be up soon.

Their eyes will be out and their disdain in full flight.

I'll have you in me head all day.

You don't mean that in jest, do you?

Not at all.

It's just, I don't think I've heard those words come from a woman.

In a pleasant way.

- Swing by as soon as you can. - Yes.

My colleague and I just buried a cadaver, I do apologise.

Gambling last night, Doctor?

No. Just out, saving lives.

I imagine you've learned your lesson there.

How so?

Darius tells me that you owe him a great deal of money.

I would sooner dance upon nothing

than darken medicine's name by involving myself in larceny.

The noose has been strung.

Doesn't matter much who hangs first, the guilty hang eventually.

That's a lot of hanging.

Here we are, gentlemen.

Oh, one last question.

How would burying a corpse leave you covered in...

Viscera.

Typhoid, I'm afraid.

We had to burn the cadavers and this was a particularly gaseous one.

- He knows. He's on to us. - Yes, I picked that up.

Between him and Darius, what are we gonna do?

An enemy's only an enemy till you stitch 'em up.

Now, Darius is trying to fling you in the excrement

with all this gab of your debt.

I say, let's return the favour, nobble him for the crime,

and then we could go and have a nice rum and a pie down the old Bagpipes.

I have somewhat a moral quandary with that. They'll hang him.

He didn't have any about hackin' your meat-hooks off.

As a doctor, I refuse to take a life.

And I won't swing for the one time I didn't nick it.

No. You're gonna have to come up with something else.

Which of you festering whores ruined me with the itch?

Who did this?

Put it away, Darius.

My girls is all clean. They've just been checked.

Why did I spend most of the week with my bollocks in a bucket of gin?

I'll take this week's sugar while I'm here.

I'd look elsewhere for suspicion if I was you.

Perhaps that devout wife of your dear friend, Captain Gaines,

you've been bonestorming...

No!

Whatever you're implying,

I guess we'll never find out.

Rash check! Check your rosebush!

Rotty. Rotty!

I've papered the town in reward posters

and already, there are a number of critical leads

about the stolen soldiers' pay.

They won't get far.

Bloody well catch them, then. This has really dragged on.

If the soldiers don't get paid, they'll riot.

It's in hand.

Is it? It's been nearly a week. Is it not possible they've fled?

He's doing the best he can.

Are we whispering now in Government House?

Something we're not privy to?

An old whore got her throat slashed, Milady.

An old whore? Uh, which one?

From the Cat and Bagpipes.

She's at the hospital, I doubt she'll make it.

You could show some concern for this poor woman.

- Governor? - Well, he could.

And get on top of this wages thing.

- Are you all right, Father? - Uh, yes, yes.

Uh, out for a walk. Might drop by the hospital.

The Professor's making noises about retiring again.

Need to choose a new Head Surgeon.

- I'll come with. - No. No need.

I know just the man to choose.

Move aside! Move!

Tails. My turn.

Lady Belle. What are you doing here?

I'm with my father to observe your work together.

He's scouting for Head Surgeon, I hope?

Hmm, I think you'll find

the charnel house of surgery rather upsetting, milady.

This isn't a pantomime. There's real blood involved.

If you'd like to assist, you might read to the convalescing patients.

Most of them can't read a word.

Hmm.

Father paid for that man's medical education.

Should've paid a bit more.

- You're not going in? - He won the coin toss.

That's how you assign surgeries?

What does she need?

Carotid ligation.

- Can he do it? - Maybe.

Could you?

Yes.

Privileged to have you here, Your Excellency.

Mmm.

Her neck has been cut with a blade

and I'll be doing an exceedingly difficult procedure,

a carotid ligation.

Shut up, please.

Speed and dexterity.

If she doesn't die of shock, tying the ligation could finish her off.

Right.

As always, here's hoping we don't shoot into the brown.

First, I must open the wound.

Dear God!

What?

My finger is now hooked around her artery.

Come on!

Using forceps to slip the linen under the artery.

Tying the ligation!

The ligation's been tied. What-ho! She bumps!

Yes, sir. Sherbet!

Into the hat for you, kind sir.

Thank you very much.

Keep it coming, gentlemen.

Well, that was quite the performance.

Just shy of an orchestra. Sneed's absurd.

The surgery was competent.

He's making a tilt for Head Surgeon.

Christ. He'll be insufferable.

It should be you.

No, I'm a surgeon. I'm not a pen-pusher. They'd hardly take me.

It's a paid position.

You'd have a house and a salary.

You could break from your life of thievery.

My thievery has been very occasional.

Perhaps I should say it in criminal terms.

This position is being stolen from you.

It is not based on cutting skill.

I would have to hobnob in some grand house.

If you mean my house, it's an estate.

Head Surgeon is a position given to men my father finds familiar.

That's me finished, then.

By the distinction of having good manners.

And that dismal art happens to be something that I am an expert in.

Let me help you.

Milady.

A word, Rainsford.

I've heard reports that Dr. Dawkins is in considerable debt.

We live like monks on tithings. I get paid in poultry.

It's completely untenable, unless one has a private means.

And he hasn't?

His debts draw suspicion.

No, that's quite the leap.

I hope you're not alluding

that my colleague is involved in this sordid business?

I need all the hands I can get.

That said, wouldn't put him up for the club.

No, no, of course not.

One last word.

Has there been an outbreak of typhoid recently?

Not for six years.

Thank you, Rainsford. You've been very helpful.

What the hell are you doing?

There was no typhoid outbreak.

No, it was a false alarm. We were overly cautious.

Excuse me, those are medical instruments, I need those.

I know you're responsible.

What, for typhoid?

For the theft.

There are two paths for you, Doctor, and for that shambles of a human being.

One path leads to the gallows with a swift drop.

The other leads to the gallows via flogging and torture.

Which would you prefer?

I'm sorry, what was the first one again?

Sir, there's nothing here.

No. And with good reason. Because we didn't nick the cash.

It'll surface.

Have you heard about this reward? Twenty gold shigs.

Yeah, they've put a mark on our heads.