The Frankenstein Chronicles (2015) s01e02 Episode Script

1 The remains of seven or eight children have been found freshly dismembered, mutilated and rearranged.
Find whoever is responsible.
- When you do, inform me.
- I won't let you down, sir.
The subjects ever move? No, Mr Marlott, they are dead.
I supply the subjects around here.
- What did you say? - You heard.
- 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.
- Alice disappeared ten days ago.
- The butcher's daughter.
- I want to speak with her.
- You'll speak to me first.
That dress, where did you get it? I'm looking for this girl, Alice.
She had one just like it.
Thought you might have seen her.
No.
"LYCA," the little girl lost.
Like Alice.
Oranges and lemons say the bells of St Clement's You owe me five farthings say the bells of St Martin's Leave that, you'll be late.
When will you pay me? Say the bells of Go on.
Wear your coat.
Yes, ma'am.
This is a private gathering.
I have business with William Blake.
- Mr Blake is indisposed.
- Who is it, Mary? A stranger.
Let him enter.
My name is Marlott.
John Marlott from Bow Street.
Come closer, John.
You'll take tea? Yes, thank you.
Who is Lyca? Aha.
Oh My lost child.
When was she lost? As you see, Mr Blake has been taken gravely ill.
Now many, many years ago.
When she first came to me.
In a dream.
Why? I'm looking for a girl named Alice.
I thought I know it's strange, but I thought she might be one and the same.
- Why would you think that? - They are one! What, Alice and Lyca are the same? All the lost children.
Tell me where to find her, then.
She is not real.
To find her you have to know the truth of the beast.
What beast? The beast with a face of a man.
Argh! - I'm I'm so sorry.
- I think perhaps you should leave.
My apologies.
I can see I was mistaken in coming here.
Please send a bill to me at Bow Street Magistrates Court.
How can that be? She's cured.
All sins are forgiven here.
No corruption.
There's seven or eight regulars that come and go from the pub at all hours, all except the chief.
He stays put, drinking himself blind I daresay.
So, how long do we sit on them? Till they give up their secrets.
Did they take Alice and the red-haired lad? Or was it the man who tried to blow my head off last night? Or maybe they are in it together? They ain't a million miles from each other.
A chain of supply.
One thing more, one of them rented a cart but came back empty-handed.
From Stoke Newington.
- How do you know? - There was a set-to with the carter.
- Cholera outbreak there.
- Cholera? That means they will be scouting for trade.
Means he will be going back.
My days are consumed like smoke.
My heart is smitten.
My days are like a shadow that declineth while I am withered like grass.
But thou, O Lord, shall endure.
The heathen shall fear thy name and all the kings of the earth they glory.
What do you reckon? - 13 maybe.
- Never.
Pike's crew got 20 for a small up at Guy's.
That was last year.
Lucky to get ten now.
Keep it down.
Whoa.
Whoa, whoa.
You ain't got no business marching me I'm an officer of the law.
I ain't done nothing wrong.
Tell them.
Nothing wrong? A dead body ain't property.
And taking one ain't theft.
Forgive me.
This is theft.
I didn't know that was there.
But you did.
That silver spoon means transportation or maybe the drop.
Or I could just let these good folks string you up as you deserve.
What do you want from me? What do you know about the Anatomy Act? It's costing me my livelihood.
Then what would you do to stop it, murder? Murder? I'm a businessman.
Here you are.
Have a look for yourself.
Incomings, outgoings, it's all there.
- Honest labour.
- Ha? You call stealing corpses honest labour? It ain't a crime.
There's a demand, I supplies it.
There's plenty out there trafficking in worse, why don't you go after them? I had to use a dead child as bait tonight.
Any more from you and I swear on my soul, you'll swing for it! Last winter I get a subject, fresh, no more than a day underground, but when I gets it to the hospital, they don't want it, they said they've already got one fresher than mine.
Is that unusual? What, so fresh the rigor is still on it? A month later, it happens to Billings' crew.
And a month after that to Will Murray.
What are you trying to tell me? Someone has been murdering to undercut our trade.
And you don't know who it is? No-one knows.
It's not good enough.
Wait.
What if I could find 'em for you? Get out! He says there is someone out there doing murder to supply bodies to the surgeons.
He'd say no different if it were him though.
- I don't think it's him.
- Why not? - Scum like that.
- Even maggots come in shapes and sizes.
We're looking for a monster, a beast with the face of a man.
Beg pardon, sir? Make sure they are fast.
I need a minute.
Right.
Pleasant lodgings.
Not lodgings, I'm the owner.
Trade's been good to you, hasn't it? I've worked hard at it.
Three days.
That is the arrangement.
I'm keeping them for surety.
Keep watch on him anyway.
- All the while? - Till I say otherwise.
Board and lodgings for two, please, Mr Forrester.
Your best rates.
I daresay Sir Robert can afford it.
So - will that be all you need from us? - I'm afraid not.
We'll be at your disposal, then.
Obliged.
You've come about the teapot.
Sadly not.
Mr Blake passed away last night.
Ah sorry to hear it.
He said to be sure you received this.
His latest work.
He did not live to see it published.
Sure he meant it for me? I am unlikely to have misheard.
Strange.
It is as much a surprise to me I can assure you.
Should you find no use for it, I would be glad to take it from you.
Aye.
May I take the liberty of giving you my address? Thank you.
How much? I'll come back.
You look lovely.
Now sling your hook.
You might have told me you were expecting distinguished company.
Please forgive my intrusion.
I took the liberty of asking for you at Bow Street - and they gave me your address.
- Not at all.
How may I help? This must sound presumptuous, but it's I who wish to help you.
- In what way? - Firstly by apologising.
When we met the other day, I spoke slightingly of your conscience.
- I can assure you, my lady - Please, Mr Marlott, I I sense you are an honest man who seeks to do God's work.
That's why I've come, because I believe you are in peril.
- Peril? - To your soul.
You know what Sir Robert's legislation entails? It aims to put the body-snatchers out of business by assigning the unclaimed bodies of the poor to the anatomy schools.
A punishment formerly reserved for murderers.
Denying them their last hope of redemption on Judgement Day.
No holy burial, no body intact.
No resurrection.
See, if we deny Christ to the poor, Mister Marlott, don't we also deny him to ourselves? And that's what is stake here.
Not merely the future of medicine.
But the prospect of a world without God.
The surgeons would argue that the act is to the benefit of us all.
Isn't that what they always say, Mr Marlott? When it is the wealthy who are to profit.
This act seeks not only to supplant the body-snatchers, it will also outlaw all forms of medicine not licensed directly by the surgeons, benign, philanthropic practices such as Lord Hervey's.
Your husband is a doctor? Lord Hervey is my brother.
Ah.
Yes, a physician.
But as different from the surgeons as night from day.
A healer not a butcher.
He runs a charitable hospital east of London where the poor are treated with the love and respect we all deserve.
This is what your employer has not told you.
Ask Sir William Chester if you doubt me.
I don't doubt you, my lady.
And I appreciate you coming here but please you must understand that Sir Robert is my employer.
As you say.
And you and I, strangers to each other.
Odd as it may seem, Mr Marlott I don't feel you to be a stranger.
I-I've taken up enough of your time.
Please consider my words.
I realise you may feel compromised by them.
They are meant honourably.
Good day to you.
You are not a very good tail, are you? I've got my orders.
They won't help you much if you want me useful.
You go about your business, I'll go about mine.
Suit yourself.
I'm fetching my boy from his nurse.
You're welcome to walk with me.
I thought you said we were going to see your nurse? Her lodging is upstairs.
- John.
- Bill.
Porter? Thank you, and another one for my friend, Mr? Nightingale.
- Nance in her room? - Upstairs.
We'll sink these on the way.
This is the best pint in Blaire Market.
Argh! Where is he? Here is the book you asked for, sir.
Huh, Collier's Bank, The Strand.
That is where Pritty keeps his savings.
Take this to the manager there impounding them.
Then stay here till I tell you otherwise.
Sir.
'Not merely the future of medicine but the prospect of a world without God.
' 'Do subjects ever move?' 'No, Mr Marlott, they are dead.
' May I help you? I'm looking for Sir William.
He's gone to Oxford on business.
I'm in charge in his absence.
- Who are you? - John Marlott.
- From Bow Street.
- And your business with Sir William? I need to speak to him about a private matter we've been discussing with the Home Secretary.
When does he return? I've no idea.
Mr Pirkis, could you come in here, please? Mr Pirkis? Do you know this gentleman? He says he has some business with my cousin.
Yes, sir, Mr Garnet, we've met before.
Nonetheless, I'm afraid that I must ask you to leave now.
Who sells you subjects other than Pritty? Each hospital has got its main crew.
- He's ours.
- Main or only? Once in a while, somebody will show up with a bargain.
What, someone you know? Sometimes, sometimes not.
So anyone can turn up with a subject and expect to get paid for it? - Yeah, in principle.
- Would you care where they sourced it? - What are you getting at? - A competition for trade - resulting in murder.
- We're medical men.
If we saw something suspect, we'd be off down the beak and no error.
Yeah, of course you would.
When was the last time you bought from someone other than Pritty? Funny you should ask.
Mrs Bowyer.
Good morning, gentlemen.
Sir William has asked me to conduct this morning's lecture on the peripheral nervous system.
Today, we have a rare opportunity of a junior subject, freshly deceased.
I will therefore be taking this opportunity to conduct a display on the subject of bioelectricity, pioneering work of the Italian physician Luigi Galvani with whom you are all undoubtedly familiar.
I will now make an incision in the subject's right arm.
Allowing exposure of the right ulnea nerve just between the lower triceps and the bicep.
Galvani's thesis was that electrical impulses are carried along the nerves by an independent system of fluids, invisible to the human eye.
That this process can be seen to function in conjunction with artificially induced energy in the absence of other animate processes seems to suggest that it lies at the very foundation of what we now understand to be multi-cellular organic life.
We now have the opportunity to observe it functioning at close quarters.
What the devil is going on? For God's sake, somebody get these creatures out of here right now.
Is this some sort of joke? Get out! It's not a bloody farm yard! Go on, get out! Get out! Who put you up to it? - A gentleman, sir.
- Age? About yours, sir.
Describe him.
Curls he had.
Fairish hair.
Tall.
Have you seen him before? He came to the sheep market this morning.
Bought the beasts and gave us a shilling to do his bidding.
Could there be greater calumny? In times of old, criminals cut from the gallows were thought sufficient to furnish our anatomists' tables.
But now it is to be any one of us, unlucky enough to find themselves unclaimed at death's door, in prison or the workhouse.
That means you, poor schoolteacher, fallen ill or on hard times.
You, poor grandmother, unable to pay your rent.
You, poor weaver or farmer, out of penny because of rising taxes or falling duties.
You and you and you.
What further proof do you require that this government seeks to make poverty a crime? And the afterlife a privilege of the wealthy? Let me have a thousand names.
I will take this petition to the Home Secretary in person.
Let him then tell us that he has the interests of the Christian people of England at heart.
Now, who will sign first? You, sir.
Come.
- Outside, outside.
- Come.
May I read? If you can.
Shorthand.
I'm a reporter.
For the Chronicle.
Short stories and novels, too.
Name is Boz.
- Didn't get yours though.
- I didn't give it.
We seem always to be running into each other, don't we? Are you with the Herald? I think you know very well who I am.
I do.
Try me.
You're a government agent.
Close enough.
I write with that hand.
No, you don't.
I've been watching you.
What were you doing at St Bartholomew's yesterday? I wanted to write about the lecture.
Why that one? It was interesting.
Yeah, that is one way of describing it.
How did you know to be there? The same way that you did.
I received a letter.
At the newspaper offices.
From whom? Anonymous.
- Saying? - That there was to be a disruption that would make an interesting news story.
Should you receive any more letters like that one, I would ask you to bring them to me before the events they predict come to pass.
And where may I find you? Bow Street Magistrates.
John Marlott.
- You're a runner? - Not exactly.
Speaking plainly, what's in it for me? Hmm? Sources are sources and a story is a story.
If you do, I may be able to give you a better story.
And if I don't? I may break your thumb.
Boz, you say? Remember the name.
All sins are forgiven here.
No corruption.
I want to be with you again.
Patience.
You will be.
God botherers? That is your thesis? That thing we saw came from hell, man, not the church.
And I'll follow it there, if need be, sir, but Lady Hervey - What of her? - She sought me out at my lodgings.
A lady of quality? Why? To denounce your policy.
She says.
- You are not seriously suggesting - No, sir.
But her escort at church the man who spoke against you at Westminster.
Sir Bentley Warburton? A fellow parliamentarian? And your opponent.
Might he not have motive therefore? - To make that thing? - If he's capable of paying men to disrupt anatomy classes, as I suspect, what else would he be willing to sponsor? He could have told her about me and asked her to call.
As a spy? What else did you talk about? Mainly God, sir.
And her brother, Lord Hervey.
What about him? How his work is under threat by the Anatomy Act.
Does that not raise your suspicions even more? Yes, sir, it does.
I've been looking into him and I intend to do so further.
He runs a hospital of some kind in the East End.
A quackery, I hear.
First a knight, and now a peer of the realm? An eccentric one though, Sir Robert.
Might he not fit the bill? These are dangerous paths you are treading, Mr Marlott.
You asked me to investigate, sir.
- And the body-snatchers? - I have them under surveillance, but I have to consider they are working as instruments for someone else, a chain of supply.
Your conspiracies are multiplying, Mr Marlott.
There's one more, sir.
Will I like it any better? By my calculation, that thing we found floated downstream with the tides from Greenwich.
A good three hours in the water.
And? Well, if it was supposed to be found and interpreted as the work of the surgeons, that is leaving much to chance.
Might not someone with sedition in mind take care their outrage be discovered? Rather than simply letting it drift God knows where.
If that obscenity was not fashioned for our benefit, then what is the reason for it? None that I can fathom, sir.
How do you find a man without plan or motive? But not without method.
At least in this case, the rudiments of surgery.
- Hardly conclusive.
- No, sir.
But it is a possibility.
Well, let's hope you can exclude it, then.
For all our sakes.
Sweet Thames runs softly.
But not always of its own accord, eh? Sir? This city, Mr Marlott, dragged kicking and screaming like a raucous infant towards a better future.
One way or another.
Do well by me, and you'll be assured a part in it.
Fail, and I promise I will deny all knowledge of you.
And your wild accusations.
Frankenstein, sir.
I'm sorry it took so long.
I had to go to three booksellers.
May I ask why, sir? Am I to be remaindered, then, sir? What makes you think I'd be that kind? Pritty gave you something to remember him by.
Now I'll do the same.
Bentley Warburton.
Honourable member for Walthamstow.
Resides at the Albany, Piccadilly.
I want to know his habits.
Where he goes.
Who he knows.
Who pays him house calls.
- Hey.
- I ain't running.
What are you doing here? I know who took her.
Thanks.
Tell me about Alice.
Billy's got a regular crew.
He feeds us.
He keeps us safe.
In return, we bring him stuff.
Sometimes other kids.
So you brought him Alice? I saw her in the market.
I liked her dress.
I said I'd give her something for it.
But she didn't want to give it up.
Billy forced her.
Next day he took her away.
I tried to save her, I swear.
But he says it was either me or her.
You or her for what? I don't know.
Honest.
So, where is she now? With the others.
Where? They just go.
Tomorrow we'll find you somewhere better to stay.
I'd feel safer with you.
My landlady might disagree.
At Billy's did you ever see a little red-haired lad? I don't think so.
You know that picture.
You can sleep in the bedroom tonight.
I'll stay in here.
St Petersburg, December 11.
You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise, which you have regarded with such evil Life and death appear to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.
A new species would bless me as its creator and source.
Who shall conceive the horrors of my secret toil as I dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave or tortured the living animal to animate the lifeless clay? Flora? Oranges and lemons say the bells of St Clement's - Alice.
- You owe me five farthings Say the bells of St Martin's - Who took you? - When will you pay me? Say the bells of Old Bailey Alice.
Alice, answer me.
When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch Oh, Alice.
Flora, sir.
You must have been dreaming.
No.
Not dreaming.
Seeing things.
What things, sir? Alice.
I think I know what has become of her.
An Investigation Into The Galvanic Response Of Dead Tissue.
By William Chester D Phil Christchurch.
Name, please.
Sir William Chester.