The Frankenstein Chronicles

Where are my goods, them crates you promised me?

When I'm satisfied.

Of what?

That he ain't with you, and you ain't with the River Police.

We saw him watching the brig.

Cut the bastard's throat.

River Police! Give yourselves up!

Judas!

Help!

- Help! - Hold on.

Get some rope.

What's the tally?

Six crates so far, sir.

And the rest?

Beg your pardon, sir?

It was you that gave Herrick away, wasn't it?

Was it worth it?

Putting a fellow officer's life at risk for your dirty money?

Do you know what he's talking about, Abe?

No idea.

And you.

If you'd kept your distance like I said they'd never have found you.

I'm sorry, sir.

Over here, found something!

Give me something to cover her with.

What are you waiting for?

Ripped & Corrected By mstoll

This way, Home Secretary.

Oi, I supplies the subjects around here.

What did you say?

You heard.

Mr Marlott?

They want ya.

I understand we have you to thank for this memorable gathering, Mr...

Marlott, sir.

Yes, Sir Robert. I had the child conveyed here.

You know me?

You accompanied my patrol on your visit to Wapping last year, sir.

And you insisted that this... Object be examined by Sir William Chester,

the leading surgeon in the land, not the Surrey coroner, why?

- I'm sorry if I've erred, sir. - Answer the question.

I've seen murder before, sir, but nothing like this.

Murder?

How do you murder something that's never been alive?

Never, sir?

Are you certain?

Use your eyes, man.

This thing is a composite.

Parts of at least seven children.

Disarticulated and reassembled.

- Piecework. - Thank you, Sir William.

That is quite enough for one lunchtime. Hope, my carriage.

Yes, Home Secretary.

Oblige me.

How many people know of this beside yourself?

Only the men working under me, sir.

That's all?

Yes, sir.

Keep it that way.

I take Eucharist tomorrow morning at St James's Piccadilly.

Attend me there.

And the rest of it.

Please excuse me, I must attend to business.

God takes his rest on the seventh day but not the Home Secretary.

In the Lord's house, on the Lord's day?

Business must be pressing indeed.

Mister Marlott of the River Police is here at my request.

I hope there are many ways to do God's work, ma'am.

Lady Hervey,

your carriage.

Justice Richbell tells me you were acting undercover

to capture a gang of ruthless opium smugglers.

Customs and Excise owe you half last year's revenue.

"You don't know the meaning of fear," he says.

Every living creature knows fear, sir.

Let me tell you mine then.

Sir William Chester and I

are in the process of modernising our antiquated medical profession.

The Anatomy Act will ensure that medicine in this country

is practised only by qualified and accredited professionals.

Legislation is going through Parliament as we speak.

I think this abomination

is the work of someone trying to put a stop to it.

Who, sir?

Any one of the numberless charlatans who profit from the system as it is.

Unlicensed quacks, apothecaries, witch doctors, barbers, body snatchers.

One or more of them is evidently seeking to discredit our surgeons

by stirring up popular feeling against them.

You think it was placed there deliberately?

You saw that thing.

A grotesque parody of surgical procedure.

I want you to undertake an enquiry in strictest confidence.

Find whoever is responsible. When you do, inform me only.

- And my present duties? - Suspended.

Remove yourself from Wapping to Bow Street Magistrates

and find yourself new accommodation.

Needless to say, I have the power to transform your expectations utterly.

I wouldn't wait too long before committing yourself.

- I won't let you down, sir. - Good.

Because more than you can imagine rests on your success.

Steady.

Rent in advance, first of the month.

Enter and exit downstairs only, if you please.

Yes.

That man I saw at your lodge the other day,

the one you were doing business with.

- Who is he? - Pritty.

A resurrectionist.

Body snatcher.

He gets us corpses for the anatomy classes.

Subjects, we call 'em.

I thought the gallows supplied them.

Not the amount that we get through.

So the hospitals do trade with criminals?

They ain't criminals.

Look it up.

A dead body ain't property by law.

Right, so if something ain't got an owner, can't be stolen, can it?

Does he bring you children?

Not often, harder to come by.

Families keep a closer watch on 'em when they go.

So, seven at one go?

No chance.

In a year, if you're lucky.

- How much? - For a child?

Depends, state of decay, time of year.

Five guineas maybe?

- Good business. - Mm, yeah, it's a seller's market.

Their prices have dropped since talk of 'em bringing the workhouse stiffs our way.

Talk by whom?

Your employer.

And mine.

What do I know?

I'm just a hospital porter.

You cut her up, sir?

Into its original constituents, yes.

Eight.

One more than my first estimate.

Can you say how they... How they died?

How, no. When, perhaps.

More than a week, less than a fortnight.

Given the state of putrefaction.

And how long in the water?

An hour, two at most.

Longer, I'd wager.

On what grounds?

I've seen my share of floaters, sir.

An hour here or there is of little consequence.

Sir Robert gave you his theory?

Yes, someone out to prevent the Anatomy Act.

Blacken the name of surgery, yes.

Lay people fear us.

They're superstitious about what happens to their bodies after death.

Medical science has grown beyond their comprehension.

Isn't it possible for a surgeon to lose his wits like any other man?

His wits, yes, not his art.

Not like this.

This is the work of a barber or a butcher.

But not one of us.

As whoever did this would have us believe.

And the stitching?

A seamstress may stitch.

So you agree with Sir Robert?

What other explanation could there be?

Will you excuse me now? I have my lecture.

Show Mr Marlott out when he's done.

Do subjects ever move?

Move?

Lot like a chicken whose head's been cut off,

the energy persisting beyond death.

No, Mister Marlott. They're dead.

Gentlemen, Mister Marlott has been seconded here from the River Police.

We have been asked to give him our assistance.

Thank you.

Um... I need a list of all children

between the ages of eight and 12,

reported missing to the parish authorities within the last month,

across the greater Metropolitan area.

May we know why?

I'm afraid not.

The Home Secretary has bound me in strictest confidence.

If it's missing children you want,

go to the window and throw a coin.

Sir Robert has asked for our assistance.

And that's what he'll get.

Thank you, thank you in advance.

Where do you come from?

Round here mostly, under the slats and that.

With them?

Do you look out for one another?

How d'you mean?

Well, if one of you went missing, would you notice?

We comes and goes all the time.

How about the last few weeks?

Any more than usual?

Not round here.

I could ask around the other markets.

Here.

Find me here three days from now.

I'll give you another one of them.