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 brick.
Cut the bastard's throat.
Call the police! Give me a shelter!
Judas!
Help! Help!
Oh!
Get some rope!
Argh!
- What's the tally? - Six crates so far, sir.
- And the rest? - Beg your pardon, sir?
It was you that gave Eric 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 had kept your distance like I said,
- they would never have found you. - I'm sorry, sir.
Over here! We've found something!
Get me something to cover her with.
What are you waiting for?
Argh!
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This way, Home Secretary.
Oi.
I surprise the subjects around here.
- What did you say? - You heard.
Mr Marlott, they want you.
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... - Answer the question.
I've seen murder before, sir,
but nothing like this.
Murder? How do you murder something that has 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.
- Piece work. - Thank you, Sir William.
That is quite enough for one lunch time. Hope, my carriage.
Yes, Home Secretary.
Oblige me.
How many of you will 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 Piccadilly.
Attend at 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.
Mr Marlott of the River Police is here at my request.
I hope there are many ways to do God's work, ma'am.
Lady. Harvey.
Your carriage.
Justice Richbell tells me you were acting undercover
to capture a gang of ruthless opium smugglers.
Custom 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 have profited 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 inquiry
in strictest confidence.
Find whoever is responsible. When you do, inform me only.
- 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? - Pretty. Resurrectionist.
Body snatcher.
He gets his corpses from the anatomy classes. Subjects, we call them.
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, it can't be stolen, can it?
- Does he bring in children? - Not often. Hard to come by.
Families keep a closer watch on them when they go.
- So seven in 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. - Oh, yeah, it's a seller's market.
The prices have dropped since talk of them bringing the workhouse stiffs our way.
- Sold by whom? - Your employer.
And mine.
But 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 testament.
Can you say how they...
how they died?
Not now, 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.
- Or 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.
Many 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 heart. 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?
Look, will you excuse me? I have a lecture.
Show Mr Marlott out when he's done.
- Do subjects ever move? - Move?
Like a chicken whose head has been cut off,
the energy persisting beyond death?
No, Mr Marlott, they're dead.
Gentlemen, Mr 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 a 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 do you mean?
Well, if... uh... if one of you went missing, would you notice?
He comes and goes all the time.
What about the last few weeks?
- Any more than usual? - Not round here.
I could ask round the other markets.
Here. Find me here three days from now,
I'll give you another one of them.
Found anything?
- Throw it in. - What? There's nowt 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 leather workers?
Mr 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. Good intention but impractical.
What does he mean about leather workers?
I was brought up a guild boy.
- You're an orphan? - Foundling.
That's how I got put up for the runners.
Sons and cousins in the normal run.
Clothes shop. I got lucky.
I want you to go to Greenwich.
Ask around the waterfront, in the naval college.
I'm looking for anyone who was there Saturday last
and the early hours who saw anything.
Saw anything strange.
Such as?
Anything.
"Mr 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 churches 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.
Here, here!
Lord Harvey of Mile End, Mr Speaker,
I shoud like to invoke peer's privilege to address the house.
I am unaware of any such precedent.
Magna Carta, Mr Speaker.
The right of hereditary peers to address the Commons.
De Montford's Charter, 12:15.
Unrepealed.
Our last revolution was 140 years ago,
Mr Speaker,
I hardly think we need another, whatever it ought to be.
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!
Mr Marlott, isn't it?
Yes, your Ladyship.
Sir Robert's man, Nathaniel.
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, my lady.
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, Nosy.
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,
comes to meet me at market,
only she never showed.
- Which market? - Smithfields.
You're a butcher?
- This is 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. - ♪ Oranges and lemons ♪
♪ Say the bells of St Clement's ♪
♪ You owe me five farthings ♪
♪ Say the bells of St Martin's ♪
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.
Monster?
- What nonsense is this? - That's what they're saying.
- Who are? - The little 'uns. In East End Market.
The meat market? Smithfields?
What else did they say?
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 them.
- We're going to keep watch of 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. Surgical thread.
Some of them may have died naturally and been dug up,
odds are 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 ten days ago from Smithfields.
So she may or may not be one of them.
I know roughly how long they were in the water.
I checked the tidal flow on the Thames.
And I believe they were thrown in the river near Greenwich.
So why the resurrection?
Their line of work.
With the laws being passed,
that will supply the Anatomy Schools by different means.
Put the body snatchers out of work.
Keep watch outside the hospital in Smithfields.
I'll relieve you after midnight.
Yes, sir.
Syphilis.
You had this before?
- Yeah. - When?
Um... some years back.
I passed it on.
Not knowingly. I thought it had gone.
It rarely does.
You've had the mercury before, how did you take to it?
- Not well. - Bad dreams? Visions?
Yeah.
It gets worse than that,
but... er... 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 burned.
John?
It has been a long time.
What has 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.
We'll met 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 is already on us?
Or that I'm losing my mind?
Come back to us, John.
Don't forsake God.
- God has forsaken me. - Or testing you.
Come back, John.
Oi. Nosy.
There will be a fresh one, Mr Pretty.
Find her.
Hey.
Figured you weren't coming so...
Yeah, I was delayed. What's in there?
A Fortune of War.
It's where they keep their bodies.
A porter wheeled one out
to the hospital around midnight on a meat trolley.
This vagrant boy, he told me
he had heard of children being abducted near here.
I sent him off to find out more but he hasn't returned.
He has probably legged it, sir.
Or someone has caught him asking questions.
Listen, you go home and rest.
I'll keep watch until the market opens.
Alice?
In there.
Sharp work, Jack.
Bronze plated.
Bow Street.
Soldier.
What regiment?
95th Rifles.
Second 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.
Ah! Please.
Please, Bill, please!
Argh!
That's for missing it.
Well, come on out, then.
Let him see you plain.
See,
I was saving her,
but seeing as
you're a gentleman and all...
- But, Bill, you said... - Shut your hole!
He's a gentleman, isn'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?
Thought you might have seen her. No.
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 find it?
I ain't going 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? Is he scary?
I've already told you I don't know what you're talking about.
- A monster? - What monster?
The one who takes children.
Too many questions.
You were right, I am with the runners.
You kill me, they will come for you.
And if I don't?
You say your prayers.
Billy, don't! Billy, don't!
Alice.
♪ Oranges and lemons say the bells of Saint Clement's ♪
- "That's all we have of her." - "I understand."
"How could you?"
"I know what it is to grieve."
Gone.
Just 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.
View'd the maid asleep."
Lyca.
Nothing, sir. What's that?
Lyca.
The little girl lost.
In a 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.
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 is at stake here.
Not merely the future of medicine,
but the prospect of a world without God.
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