The Frankenstein Chronicles (2015) s01e01 Episode Script

World Without God

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? 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.
You found anything? - Throw it in.
- What? There's naught wrong with it.
I paid for it.
Throw it in.
We are a business, Constable Nightingale.
- An enterprise.
- Yes, sir.
Charity is for the wealthy, not for the likes of you.
Or didn't they teach you that at the Leatherworkers? Mister Marlott.
The information you requested.
Thank you.
Only five children reported missing in all of London in the last month? We can't be everywhere, sadly.
Now, can I return my men to their duties, or will you require any further assistance? Uh A single officer will do.
Why don't you take Constable Nightingale? Why was Forrester reprimanding you? For arresting someone.
Who? Market trader, beat up his wife.
That's not a crime in Forrester's eyes? Well, not if she can't pay to have him prosecuted.
- No.
- Can you? I don't have that money.
Then he was right.
Well intentioned, but impractical.
What does he mean about Leatherworkers? I was brought up a guild boy.
- You're an orphan? - A foundling.
Well's that's how I got put up for the Runners.
It's sons and cousins in the normal run.
Closed shop.
I got lucky.
I want you to go to Greenwich.
Ask around the waterfront near the Naval College.
I'm looking for anyone who was there Saturday last, in the early hours, who saw anything, saw anything strange.
Such as? Anything.
Mister Speaker.
The Home Secretary talks of progress and reason and science.
But let us speak plainly.
What his noble words conceal is a scheme to deliver a free supply of corpses into the bloody hands of the surgeons.
The corpses of the workhouse poor! Now are we to tell them, after their lives of hardship, that their bodies will not be returned to them on Judgement Day, as the Church has promised, but must now be cut to shreds on the dissecting tables like common criminals? Now, these reforms might well put the grave robbers out of business, as the Home Secretary intends.
But they will also divide this nation as they have divided this House! The Honourable members, Christian love of the poor is well-noted.
But it must be weighed against the greater good.
Lord Hervey of Mile End, Mister Speaker.
I should like to invoke peer's privilege to address the House.
I am unaware of any such precedent.
Magna Carta, Mister Speaker.
The right of hereditary peers to address the Commons.
De Montfort's Charter of 1215, unrepealed.
Our last revolution was 140 years ago, Mister Speaker.
I hardly think we need another, whatever his Lordship says.
Why, Sir Robert? Is the House frightened of what I might have to say? Thank You! Thank You! Now if we may return to Parliamentary business.
Order! Order! Mister Marlott, isn't it? Yes, your Ladyship.
Sir Robert's man, Daniel.
You have an interest in this bill? In some measure.
Then I take it you approve of these indecencies to be inflicted upon the bodies of the poor? I knew little of these proposals until recently.
And now that you do? I have my instructions, milady.
My conscience is my own.
Well, we shan't detain you.
A little thing like conscience mustn't stand between a man and his instructions.
Over there, nosey.
Mr Evans? Inspector Marlott from Bow Street.
Have you found her? When did you see her last? Friday.
My wife takes in needlework.
Alice helps.
- Running errands.
- Where? Saffron Hill, drapers.
She drops her stuff and comes to meet me at market.
Only she never showed.
Which market? Smithfield's.
Oh, you're a butcher.
This a good likeness? Good enough.
It was painted two years ago.
"Alyc.
" She was learning her letters.
Could you tell me what she was wearing? Her Sunday dress.
She was proud of it.
What colour? Rose.
Rose pink.
May I take it? It's all we have of her.
I understand.
How could you? I know what it is to grieve.
Then find her.
Anything? A monster.
A monster? What nonsense is this? That's what they're saying.
Who are? The little 'uns in the eastern market.
The meat market, Smithfield? What else are they saying? He comes at night, takes the children.
What does he look like, this monster? Don't know.
These children, can you find them again? I don't want to go back there.
Fetch them here, tomorrow, same time.
Tell them I'll pay them.
Don't let me down.
What do you know about resurrectionists? Body snatchers? Unholy scum, the lot of 'em.
We're going to keep watch on them.
Why? I can't tell you.
With respect, sir.
I can follow orders as well as anyone.
But I might have turned up more than spuds at Greenwich if I knew what I was looking for.
Come on.
The remains of seven or eight children have been found.
Freshly dismembered, mutilated and rearranged.
- Rearranged? - Stitched back together.
With surgical thread.
Some of them may have died naturally and been dug up, but odds are that some of them were murdered, more than a week, less than a fortnight ago.
That's why I've been looking for missing children.
The butcher's daughter? Alice disappeared 10 days ago from Smithfield's.
So she may or may not be one of them.
I know roughly how long they were in the water.
I've checked the tidal flow on the Thames and I believe they were thrown in the river near Greenwich.
So, why the resurrectionists? Their line of work.
There are laws being passed that will supply the anatomy schools by different means and put the body snatchers out of work.
Keep watch outside the hospital in Smithfield's.
I'll relieve you after midnight.
Yes, sir.
Syphilis.
You've had this before? Yeah.
When? Some years back.
I passed it on, unknowingly.
I thought it had gone.
It rarely does.
You'll have had the mercury before.
How did you take to it? Not well.
Bad dreams? Visions? - Yeah.
- Mm.
It gets worse than that, but you've little choice, by the looks of it.
Hear my prayer, O Lord.
And let my cry come onto thee.
For my days are consumed like smoke.
And my bones are burnt.
John? It's been a long time.
What's kept you? Penance.
Why not here? I do my own penance for my own sins.
You might find consolation, too.
Like what? Sleep to wake.
You'll meet again.
On Judgement Day? When the dead will awake and sit at Christ's right hand.
And what if they already had? What do you mean? If the dead could wake now, here, on Earth, would that mean Judgement Day's already on us? Or that I'm losing my mind? Come back to us, John.
Don't forsake God.
God's forsaken me! Or testing you.
Come back, John.
Oi, nosey.
Better be a fresh one, Mr Pritty.
Find her.
Hey- Figured you weren't coming, sir.
Yeah, I was delayed.
What's in there? The fortune of war.
It's where they keep their bodies.
A porter wheeled one over to the hospital around midnight on a meat trolley.
This vagrant boy, he told me he'd heard of children being abducted near here.
I sent him off to find out more but he's not returned.
He's probably legged it, sir.
Or someone's caught him asking questions.
Listen, you go home and rest.
I'll keep watch till the market opens.
Alice? Alice? In there.
Sharp work, Jack.
Bronze-plated.
Bow Street? Soldier.
What regiment? 95th Rifles, 2nd Light Battalion.
What do you want, soldier? I want to speak with her.
You'll speak to me first.
No coin on him? Take off his boots.
Sorry, Billy.
Please.
Please, Bill, please.
That's for missing it.
Well, come on out, then.
Let him see you plain.
See, I was saving her.
But seeing as how you're a gentleman and all.
- But Bill, you said - Shut your hole! He's a gentleman, ain't he? So, what do you say? HOW do, sir? You're the first.
Go on, inside.
That dress, where did you get it? Why? I'm looking for this girl, Alice.
She had one just like it.
What Of it? I thought you might have seen her.
- No.
- Then where did you get it? A rag shop.
Which one? I don't know, Monmouth Street.
If I took you there again do you think you could you find it? I ain't goin' nowhere with you.
I think you're lying.
Why? Are you scared? If you're scared of someone, I can help you.
Is it Billy? ls he scaring ya? I've already told you.
I don't know what you're talking about.
The monster.
What monster? The one who takes children.
Too many questions.
You were right.
I am with the Runners.
You kill me, they'll come for you.
And if I don't? You say your prayers.
Billy, don't! Billy, don't! "Oranges and lemons, say It's all we have of her.
I understand.
How could you? I know what it is to grieve.
Gone, as I thought.
Look around.
What for, sir? Anything that might tell us of their whereabouts.
And the miniature of the Evans girl.
"Sleeping Lyca lay, "While the beasts of prey, "Come from caverns deep, "Viewed the maid asleep.
" Lyca.
Lyca.
Nothing, sir.
What's that? Lyca.
The little girl lost.
In her rose pink dress.
Like Alice.
I have business with William Blake.
I'm looking for a girl named Alice.
To find her you have to know the truth of the beast.
I sense you are an honest man.
I believe you are in peril.
A dead body ain't property.
And taking one ain't theft.
Any more from you and I swear on my soul you'll swing for it.
May I take the liberty of giving you my address? This government seeks to make poverty a crime.
And the afterlife a privilege of the wealthy.
These are dangerous paths you're treading, Mr Marlott.
Fail, and I promise I will deny all knowledge of you.
If we deny Christ to the poor, don't we also deny him to ourselves.
And that's what's at stake here.
Not merely the future of medicine, but the prospect of a world without God.

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