Whitechapel s03e03 Episode Script

Who's that? It's Judy's sister.
I think she's got her eye on me.
You ought to run! (BABY CONTINUES CRYING) RILEY: You'll like this - Adolph Luetgert was a sausage maker in Illinois.
His wife disappeared, and the police found her bones and teeth in his sausage-making vat.
Ugh, so when was that, then? No idea! Huh, there's something you don't know, Ed! 1897.
(BABY CONTINUES CRYING) It's just something I read in the hairdresser's.
Yes, I did! Ssh.
Oh, come on! (ANIMAL PANTING) (BARKING) You're Joe, aren't you? Judy thinks we might have lots in common.
Really? I don't really have any other interests apart from work.
So - Well, maybe you need one.
(LAUGHS NERVOUSLY) Sir.
Sir! Sir, it's your turn.
Er, no, but - Everyone else has had a go.
Really? Thank you.
(STOPS CRYING) Huh! She likes me.
You're a natural.
I think you're a lucky man.
I know.
Don't tell him.
No, no, no! (MOTORBIKE ENGINE REVS) (SCREECHING BRAKES) (SCREAMS) Oh, hello.
Good morning.
Come in.
Morning.
Ray, you look awful.
Yeah, cheers (!) Have you tried lavender oil at bedtime, a bit of baby massage? Yeah, and then the baby wakes me up.
It's the colic.
Ah, well, she should try expressing her foremilk and just giving Martha the hindmilk.
Yeah, I'll mention that.
Worth a try.
So this is all that's been recovered so far.
Yeah, what can you tell us about it? The plastic used to wrap the arm is ordinary black bin liner, the cheap kind you get in a corner shop.
Fingerprints? No matches.
Hair distribution and muscle mass would suggest a female.
Was she, erm Was she dead or alive when the arm wasremoved? I could see no white cell migration here.
Long dead, then? Well, no rigor and also no putrefaction.
So I would tentatively put time of death at more than 36 hours, less than four days.
Could it be hospital waste, a junior doctor's prank? This isn't a surgical amputation.
This was removed quite brutally, with a heavy, flat blade.
Like an axe? Exactly like an axe.
You're looking at a murder.
We're checking against the DNA database, but it'll take some time to get a result.
The armwas left here.
But we don't know where the fox found it, so we don't have a crime scene.
Foxes are scavengers.
They find a source of food, they go back to it.
The fox knows where the dumpsite is.
So right now, our only witness is a wild animal.
(KNOCK ON DOOR) RILEY: Hello? Ah yes, over here, on the international shelves.
What are you doing? Plugging the gaps.
This is a wonderful resource, but it's only a record of British crime.
I intend to make the archive complete by creating files on significant international cases.
You're making too much work for yourself.
I'm doing what needs to be done.
Oh, all right! Can I help? Er, DI Chandler.
I need to know how to find a fox.
Any particular fox? Er, yes.
Have you seen it before? I know where it's been seen.
Well, then that's easy.
Foxes are territorial.
And around here, their territory is about a quarter square mile each.
You go backat night, and you wait for your fox.
He'll be there.
The same fox? One fox, one vixen, one den, quarter mile squared.
A fox hunt? Yes, tonight when it's dark.
You've been on many, have you? With horse and hounds, yes.
This one will be a bit different, I think.
KENT: Sir.
You have a DI Norray here to see you from Richmond.
Go on then.
Mina Norroy.
DI Joseph Chandler.
DS Ray Miles.
How can we help you? I'd heard you'd found an arm.
Well, this morning we found a torso.
It's wrapped in plastic.
Bin liners.
Just like the arm.
Maybe we have a match.
Kent! You muppet! What do you think of her then? Uptight, buttoned down.
All repressed, waiting for a release.
Yeah, phew! I'd tap it.
Why don't you make a move then? Nah, you shouldn't shag above your ranks.
It gets weird.
How would you know? There might have been a DCI back in the day.
Like two peas in a pod, aren't they? A pair of DI twins, his 'n' hers.
For the time being, let's assume the torso and arm belong to the same victim.
The torso's female and has a small tattoo of a star on her left shoulder.
That's useful.
To a point.
Stars are the most common tattoo for women in this country, I looked it up on the internet.
The torso was found in the river, at 6am by Putney Bridge.
Now, I've had a quick look at the tide tables and my guess is it went into the water at Whitechapel.
As far as I'm concerned, it's your inquiry.
I won't fight you for it.
I believe Dr Llewellyn is your pathologist of choice, so I took the liberty of sending the torso to her.
Er, let me, er Good luck.
Umthe torso was your find.
I'd appreciate your input.
I'd be happy to help where I can.
Most blokes, they see a girl they like, they ask for her number.
You invite her input in a murder.
Some men can speak to an attractive woman without trying to bed her.
'Attractive', ooh! Oh, shut up! Ed? Dismemberment.
Yes, dismemberment.
That's two shelves, over here.
Disposed of in the river, correct? That's right.
Torso, yes.
Then, this is for you.
'The Thames Torso Mysteries of 1887 to 1889.
' Four dismembered bodies scattered across London, transported by the Thames as far as Rainham, some dumped as close as Pinchin Street.
A woman's torso audaciously left at the site of New Scotland Yard.
These murders were around the same time as the Ripper.
Why haven't I heard of them? Well, apart from Elizabeth Jackson, a prostitute, the women were never identified.
Without names or faces, they never really existed to the public.
There was no one to remember them.
Without faces? Mm.
I'm afraid they never found their heads.
MILES: 'Jane Doe' not good enough for you? Jane Doe's just another word for anonymous.
I want the team to remember she was a real person, and care about her.
Why 'Agnes'? It's Keats.
Until we discover her identity, she should have a name that evokes beauty, not dismemberment and death.
RILEY: Sir, have you got a minute? It's just poetry, Miles, not some weird fetish.
Right, missing persons.
They found a girl called Ella Bowe.
Last seen in Whitechapel, been missing about six months.
25 years old, 5' 4", 8 and a half stone and with a star tattoo.
Who called it in? Her mum.
Over 18, not vulnerable.
No suspicious circumstances.
No, which is why her disappearance has never been investigated.
Better cover all the bases.
Contact the mother, get DNA.
OK.
Initial tests indicate that the arm did come from this torso.
We're waiting for diatoms to see if the arm has spent time in the river as well.
She was a young Caucasian woman, aged 18 to 35, no children.
Slim, well nourished, healthy.
She was between five foot and five foot five.
She has a small star-shaped tattoo on her shoulder, which, judging by the blurring and fading of the ink is about four or five years old and was exposed to the sun.
How did she die? Oh, there's gross inflammation of the oesophagus, and haemorrhages of the gastric mucosa with excoriated areas extending all the way down to the pylorus.
Haemorrhages on the surface of the heart and lungs, although there's no damage to the respiratory mucosa, though the lungs are pretty congested and oedematous.
She was poisoned.
What with? I've no idea.
Not the usual acid or alkali.
This is like nothing I've ever seen before.
She'd have felt like she was burning to death, from the inside.
So what exactly is Mr Buchan's role? Good question! He's an advisor, who provides us with a different perspective.
He's a distraction! He's an asset.
An idiot.
Poisoners! One moment.
Edward Buchan, pleased to meet you.
Er, do you mind? No, no.
Not at all.
In the Victorian era, with the advent of life insurance and the ready availability of arsenic in flypaper, there began the epidemic of poisoning and women discovered their metier as murderers.
Women are more likely to poison or suffocate their victims, and their victims are usually close to them - family members or friends.
Mm, Mary Ann Cotton poisoned her husbands and children.
21 victims over 20 years.
Mary Wilson killed four lovers using phosphorus, and claimed they took it in sexual stimulation pills.
But women don't dismember.
Poisoning followed by dismemberment suggests a man, like Dr Crippen.
I have scores of cases here.
Women poison.
If a man's prepared to dismember, he's capable of violence.
Well, he'd stab or strangle.
So why bother with the poison? The poisoning's the point.
Dismemberment's just clearing up.
So we're looking for someone who poisons like a woman and dismembers like a man.
A couple? Ah, 'folie a deux', the madness that overcomes lovers.
I could bring you files from our new international section on the Lonely Hearts Killers.
Or perhaps you'd be interested in The Black-Eyed Borgia and her playboy lover - Yeah, I think we've heard enough to be going on with.
Thank you.
When will you know if it's Ella? Might take a while, I'm afraid.
That's my daughter.
Oh, she's so beautiful.
Very musical child.
She used to sing in our church.
Why did she leave home? We argued over her obsession with a band.
The Devil's Architects weren't famous or successful or anything, but she thought they were wonderful.
The last time I heard from her, she was working in a sweet shop by day and going to gigs at night.
Well, that's not unusual for a girl of her age.
I haven't had any contact from her in six months.
That is unusual, I promise you.
OK, thank you.
The fox dropped the arm here, so we know this is part of its territory.
We'll fan out in a quarter mile radius and wait for it to appear.
This is a fast animal, so be prepared to run.
(TRAIN OVERHEAD) Mansell, Riley, you go north.
Kent, Norroy, you go west.
We'll take this area.
Good luck.
Happy hunting.
Why don't you pair up with Norroy? Because she's not my sergeant.
You should get to know her.
I do know her.
She's professional and analytical.
Well, it's a good match then.
Look, this isn't Jane Austen, you know.
You can't hang around making moo eyes for decades and not say anything.
You see a girl you like, you say something.
NORROY: Your DI is very good.
KENT: Yeah, he is.
I'm not so sure about your sergeant.
The boss is sure of him.
They might argue, but don't be fooled.
Nothing comes between them.
Really? (MOBILE RINGS) (GROANS) What's the matter? Eva.
Aw, is she missing you already? She doesn't believe I'm staking out a fox.
What does she think you're doing? Playing away.
And have you been? Six months of marriage and you're cheating already? I get bored.
You're a dickhead! You are.
Unbelievable! (DOGS BARK IN DISTANCE) Miles? Were you asleep? Catnap.
What, standing up? Old Bobby trick.
(SQUEALING AND CLATTERING) Listen.
Something's coming.
There! There! Keep quiet and try not to scare it.
MILES: Damn, it's seen us! NORROY: Which way did it go? Follow Miles.
Don't let it out of your sight.
Yes, sir.
Mansell, Riley, go round the back but don't get too close.
Yes, boss! MILES: There it is, by the bins.
MANSELL: Have you seen it? NORROY: Down there.
CHANDLER: This way! MANSELL: Come on, down here.
It's down here.
Let's go, let's go! This way, this way! There it is! CHANDLER: Look, over there! NORROY: We're never going to find it in here.
What about there, under that slab? Could be it.
I can see something in there.
It's partially buried.
Quite far in.
I don't think I can reach it.
Here.
Oh, thanks.
You read my mind.
I've got it.
Ugh! Call it in.
This is DI Norroy.
Seal off the area, we have a crime scene.
Hold it.
We've found a foot.
Good job.
Bit of running.
Some heroics.
If I was a bird, I'd be impressed.
I touched a severed foot.
If I don't clean my hands right now, I'm gonna lose my mind.
Thank you.
Look, I'll seal off the garden if you want to take the house.
Right.
Miles.
(DOOR CREAKS AS IT CAVES IN) Hello? Watch your step.
Jesus Christ! Can you smell something? Something's dead in here.
Hello? (WIRE TWANGS) Watch out! Whoa! Jesus Christ! It's a mantrap.
One more step and you'd have triggered an avalanche.
Let's find another way.
Potions? Or poisons.
(RATTLE OF CHAINS) What was that? (CHAINS RATTLE AGAIN) (CHAINS CLINK) (WOMAN HISSES LIKE A WILD ANIMAL) What the? Oh, my It's OK.
You're safe now.
We'll get you out of here.
What's your name? Who did this to you? Is he? Is he still in the house? (I did this to me.
) What? I won't let you take me.
I'll never leave.
Never.
Come on, darling.
Let's (SHRIEKS LIKE A BANSHEE) (WAILING CUTS THROUGH THE AIR) Boss, where are you? Mansell! Get him out! You take this.
Anything you can.
Watch your back! Jesus! Get out! Get out! You guys all right? Yeah, we're all right.
Are you? Yeah, I'm good.
Let's get out of here.
Just stay there.
OK.
I'm gonna get a medic.
Stay there.
I do feel a bit funny, mate.
It's all right.
Don't move.
OK? We can't get into the house till there's been a risk assessment.
Typical health and safety.
It's not a bad thing.
The house is designed to kill you.
Never mind.
This back garden's a bloody graveyard.
Ermwhere's your husbandJack? He's gone hunting.
Hunting? Explain what you mean by hunting.
Looking for useful things.
People are always throwing away perfectly good furniture.
And Jack can't bear it.
He can see the use in things.
He goes out on hunts and he brings things home.
When will he be back? I don't know.
Weeks.
Months.
It depends how long it takes him to find whatever it is he's looking for.
Listen, I have been here for hours.
Who's going to feed the foxes? How often do you feed them? Every day.
What do you feed them? Meat, of course.
What kind of meat? On the bone.
It's good for their teeth.
Where's the meat from? Jack finds it.
If they don't eat, they'll die.
They have cubs.
We found a human foot in your garden.
Did you give it to the foxes? You're lying.
We have a picture.
I see what you're doing.
I know what you're up to.
And what's that? You disapprove of me, my house and the way I live, don't you? You think that because my house is cluttered and in disarray that my mind must be too.
But Detective Inspector, I know what you're doing.
You, my neighbours, the council you all just want me out of my house.
In a home.
Out of the way.
Gone.
Thanks a lot.
Cheers.
Hello.
Morning, what can I get you? DC Meg Riley.
I'm making enquiries into the whereabouts of Ella Bowe.
I can't help very much.
She worked here for a few months then one day she didn't come in.
I never heard from her again.
Did she ever mention a band? The Devil's Architects.
Oh, yes.
She only came to Whitechapel to be close to the band.
She was devastated when they split up.
They don't exist anymore? No.
Gone.
OK.
Thank you.
OK.
The DNA tests have come back and this girl is not Ella Bowe.
That's disappointing.
Also, I can tell you she isn't on the DNA database.
So, no arrests, no convictions.
Probably not a prostitute like the Thames Torso Murders.
She's not been reported missing.
She could have been here from abroad.
To study or work.
So no-one's gonna tell us her name, then.
No.
And if you want to know her name, you're gonna have to find this poor girl's head.
Right.
Listen up.
Attention, please.
This is our prime suspect.
Jack Grace.
6ft 4.
18 stone.
In the 1970s, he was a fashion photographer.
Adelina was his muse.
Now, they bought the house in Napier Street and did it up and it was considered a beautiful house.
It featured in magazines.
No-one knows what happened.
They started hoarding.
Adelina says that Jack is out hunting.
He's a big man.
Whitechapel's a small place.
Find him.
Yes, sir.
Come on, Kent.
Let's go.
I'm driving.
Sir.
I'm sorry.
I've hit a dead end with Ella Bowe.
She moved to Whitechapel when she followed a band called the Devil's Architects but vanished when the band split up.
She didn't go back home? No and the mum's very religious.
And disapproving.
Once a groupie, always a groupie.
She's probably found another band to chase.
Meg, sorry.
You don't need to worry.
I just need a bit more time.
No.
The body isn't hers.
Oh.
A wild goose chase, then? No.
Ruling someone out is never a waste of time.
Thank you.
What is this? Black walnut.
It treats ringworm.
And opens your bowels.
Do you make these yourself? Of course.
What's this? What's this one? Horse chestnut for circulation.
And this? Tansy.
Jack has worms.
Oh.
That one kills cats.
They kept coming in the house pissing everywhere.
Dirty animals.
Their eyes are dead.
So you poison them? If they come in uninvited, of course.
They're vermin.
What about foxes? They're vermin, aren't they? They're beautifuland wild.
And they never came in.
You can't compare my foxes with those cats.
Who else did you give this one to? No-one.
Just the cats.
What about a young woman? Did you poison her? Did Jack chop her up for you to feed to the foxes? That's absurd! Tell us, Adelina, did you kill her and have Jack throw the leftovers in the river? Oh! I'm gonna take your house apart piece by piece till I find what I'm looking for.
Don't you dare! What's in that house is none of your business! It's personal.
It's private.
It's nothing to do with any of you! What are you hiding, then? What's in that house?! Ssh! Ssh! Ssh! This is for you.
A story of HH Holmes.
This isn't from the archive.
No.
I compiled it.
Take a look and see.
HH Holmes was a pharmacist who lived in Chicago in the 1890s.
He built a hotel opposite his pharmacy, and scores of young girls who travelled to Chicago to find work stayed there.
(READS) Holmes Castle.
A sealed room all bricked in.
Room of the three corpses.
Secret chamber.
Death shaft.
I take it he was a serial killer.
He was a poisoner.
He built his hotel in such a way that it was a maze filled with hidden rooms and trap doors.
Sound familiar yet? Adelina's house.
Holmes constructed a special room to gas his victims.
Then he experimented on and dismembered the corpses.
Where were the bodies found? Buried in the basement, thrown in pits of quick lime, and cremated in his own incinerator.
How many victims were there? Between nine and 200.
Most were young women travelling far from home for work.
They checked in to Holmes's killing hotel and well .
.
they never checked out.
A hotel? HH Holmes needed a steady supply of victims to satisfy his desires so he constructed a hotel that effectively became a murder factory.
So we're looking for torture chambers, killing rooms and burial pits.
(DOOR CREAKS AS IT CLOSES) No sudden movements.
I'm right behind you.
Imagine a terrified young woman trying to get out of this house.
If she ran in here, she'd be cut to pieces.
(TAUT WIRE PINGS AS IT UNFURLS) Sorry.
You're all right.
Go on.
OK.
Mind your face.
(TAUT WIRE WHIPS AWAY) (OMINOUS CREAKING) One more.
(WIRE SNAPS BACK) (DEBRIS CRASHES DOWN) Sorry.
Be careful.
I suppose we have to go over it.
Is this safe? I don't know.
Probably not.
(OMINOUS CREAKING) Are you all right? Yes.
I'm all right.
What the hell is that? I don't know.
Let's have a look.
Do you think there's a girl under here? Boss.
Who the hell is that? Oh, God! Mr Jack Grace.
How long has he been dead? Would you like to hazard a guess? The neighbours have never seen him so I don't know.
Any time in the last 30 years.
Natural mummification is rare but not unheard of.
Given the right conditions.
A cold, dry space with good air circulation is essential.
And being wrapped or covered in paper and wood helps.
10 years.
10 years.
Not even close.
A year.
I know he was a big man but, at the time of death, he was little more than skin and bones.
Very little body fat and very dehydrated.
Plus he was taking Adelina's home worming remedy which had an antibacterial effect.
So, when he was entombed, the flies couldn't get to him.
He didn't putrefy, and over a short space of time, he dried out and became this.
What was the cause of death? Pancreatic cancer.
Hence the weight loss.
So he couldn't have been helping Adelina to dismember the bodies.
The other thing.
The initial tests are back on the homemade potions.
While some are nasty and would have caused irritation and discomfort, and some vomiting, there's nothing that would cause the kind of corrosive action we've seen in the torso.
You'd better start giving us some good news or we'll stop coming.
We found Jack.
What have you done with him? You knew he was dead? Yes.
Why did you lie to us? Why did you leave his body there? Because that's his home.
It's where he belongs.
With me.
He deserves a decent burial.
He had one.
Close to me where I could talk to him every day.
If you take him and put him in the cold ground somewhere, who will talk to him, then? You could visit No! He belongs with me.
We love each other.
We are meant to be together.
Till death do you part.
But I'm not dead yet.
Give him back to me.
There's only so many files you can cram in here, Ed.
Don't you think you should stop? Stop? But I've only just scratched the surface of major US crime.
I still have to tackle Japan and India and Europe.
I shall need a polyglot.
You can't be serious.
My work saves lives.
What could be more serious? Through there, please.
Beef bones.
All of them? No.
No.
There's some fragments of chicken bone.
Not many of those.
And this is a bit of mutton bone.
No victims in the garden? No.
But the foot definitely spent time in the river.
Like the arm and the torso.
The torso was taken by the tide up stream to Richmond.
The arm and foot could have been put in the river as the tide turned then they washed back up and the fox found them.
If you want to find the other body parts, check the river bank from Richmond to Whitechapel.
Do you want to do the other side now, lads? Yeah.
Cheers.
We're gonna be here all night at this rate.
Come on.
If her head is still out there, we'll find it.
She'll get her name back.
Miles? Miles.
Miles.
(SIGHS IN EXASPERATION) (MILES'S VOICE ECHOES) So no-one's gonna tell us her name, then? (LLEWELLYN'S VOICE ECHOES If you wanna know her name, you're gonna have to find this poor girl's head.
(BUCHAN ECHOES) Without names or faces, they never existed to the public.
Oh, I just can't I know what you mean.
After a while, the waiting just seems oppressive.
Fresh air.
Yeah.
Good idea.
Kent.
Yes, sir? If they find anything, will you call me straightaway.
Yes, sir.
And get a squad car to take Miles home.
I think he's done for the night.
What am I not doing right? You've done everything I would do.
The fact is you have an unidentified murder victim and the river's the dump site.
These cases can take years.
I'm gonna find out who she is.
You run a good team.
Thank you.
I wish you could have seen my squad when I took over.
Crumbled, unshaven and mutinous at the idea of a woman in charge.
I went through much the same thing.
So the ties and deodorants are your idea? I introduced the concept of using bins too.
I insisted everyone brought a toothbrush to work.
No coffee breath on the witnesses.
That's a good thought.
My original sergeant didn't think so.
He fought me all the way.
Sergeants are a territorial bunch, aren't they? That's why I had him transferred.
(LAUGHS) You're kidding.
Yeah.
Of course I am.
Miles and I hated each other on sight.
But we've been through a lot.
He's like family now? Well, I wouldn't want to spend Christmas with him so yes, he is.
Riley, over here.
Bingo.
Maybe next time we go to the pub, we'll talk about something other than work.
I'd like that.
(MOBILE TRILLS) Riley, what have you got? We're on our way.
Sir.
Do you have her head? We haven't opened it yet.
Open it, Mansell.
Oh, damn it! It's a left foot.
We already found a left foot in Adelina's garden.
This belongs to another girl.
In 1887, the river started bringing detectives the body parts of young women.
They ended up with four bodies.
I think this is just the beginning.
Our killer likes one type of girl and one type of murder.
Arthur Ford.
1954.
They died from his unrequited love.
In agony.
We need to take a closer look at Celeste and Max.
I think they're the same person.
I don't care what you think.
I only care what he thinks! When I told him I wasn't interested, he changed.
Became someone else.