_
This woman is my sister.
You followed me all the way to goddamn Europe?
I am here on business, Patricia.
- But you don't know who I am? - Jason Jason Ripper.
Would you fuck your mum to save her life?
He didn't want to leave Esme alone.
But I persuaded him.
This is on me.
This is my fault.
Esme was killed to make you suffer.
Her killer is watching you squirm.
You know who killed her?
You'll give me the name if I do something for you first.
I used to work for you.
You're Lord Harwood.
Lord James Harwood.
- I'm not Harwood! - Oh! All right.
- _ - The struggle continues,
but it's not going well.
We're losing the battle on the streets.
We want a truce, and I asked them to arrange a meeting
between myself and Frances Gaunt to discuss terms.
Then we'll kill her.
I got the distinct sense they know.
They know I'm CIA.
I have a job for you, if you're interested.
You have to succeed tonight
if you want that name.
Good night, ladies.
Come here.
- Should I wake me dad? - No.
This will sink the bloody No-Name League for good.
The widow Mrs. Thwaite has been appointed
pro tem leader, pending elections.
England will soon be yours, my girl.
Civil disturbances and street violence
between left and right-wing extremist groups
have erupted across the nation
following the unexplained death of Julian Thwaite,
leader of the so-called No-Name League.
The prime minister has issued a statement.
We are facing the grave danger
of outright anarchy...
T-Turn it off. Turn it off!
Turn it off, Lulu.
Yes, mistress.
Law and order are the walls...
- Are you all right, Ginger? - ... upon which the root
of democracy sits.
I know that man.
Yeah, that was the prime minister.
That's the man that hurt me.
That's right. It is.
You're remembering.
He's remembering.
Well done. Keep thinking.
Do you remember your name?
J-James.
Bingo!
That's right, love. You're James.
James what?
James...
H-H-Harwood.
James Harwood.
My name is James Harwood.
Lord James Harwood.
Hooray!
The leader of the Raven Society.
That man... tortured me.
He destroyed my life.
H-He has to die.
He has to die.
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --
Bloody idiots.
You mark my words, this carries on,
we'll be swimming in rivers of blood.
We'll be paddling fucking canoes in it.
Assassinations, riots.
You'd think we was French.
You all right, Daveboy? Been in the wars again?
It's... It's just a scratch, pal.
Oh.
Yes, sir, what can I get you?
I'm good, thank you.
I've been looking for you for two days.
I was poorly.
What happened?
Well... what can I say?
I cocked up, eh?
One of those things. Sorry.
I'm sorry, "one of those things"?
The wrong damn target was hit.
Fair play.
But that wasn't me. That was the other fella.
Ah, yes, the other fella.
The one who helped you escape. It was...
It was very kind of him.
Who was that?
Couldn't tell you. He was wearing a mask.
Ah, a mystery man, eh?
Who was he working for?
And how the hell would I know that?
Hmm.
I'll have to explain this mess to my bosses.
They'll need answers.
Any input?
No.
Here's my theory.
You were the assassin,
but it wasn't Gaunt or the Raven Society
who asked you to kill Thwaite.
Nor was it the government. They have plenty of killers.
Why come to you?
Then a name sprang to mind.
I hear you've become close friends with John Ripper.
You've been spying on me.
That's not a denial. I'll take it as a yes.
It was you who killed Thwaite, and Ripper who sent you.
Take it how you like. Leave me alone.
Now, why on Earth... would Ripper want to kill
the leader of the No-Name League?
What's in it for him?
It's puzzling.
I suspect he's working for somebody else.
Don't suppose he told you, did he,
who he's working for?
You ask a lot of questions, Mr. Wayne.
Are you sure you want the answers?
Well... that sounded vaguely like a threat.
I don't make threats.
Why tell people what you're going to do?
You may have started a civil war.
Haven't you done enough harm already?
I don't want you to get hurt.
I can't say the same for my friends.
Some of them aren't as gentle as I am.
You're not scaring me, Alfred.
I have friends like that, too.
Cheeky... fuck.
What friends has he got?
He means the CIA.
Get to fuck.
He's only posing as a No-Name League activist.
He's an American agent. CIA.
- Evening, Daveboy. - All right.
Alfie.
Same again?
Yeah.
And a bag of crisps.
Bastard.
What... What's got to her?
What's wrong with asking for crisps?
What?
Oh.
Want some? There's plenty.
No, thanks.
I did my part.
You promised me a name.
I did.
If there was an angel on your shoulder, she'd say,
"Turn away now, Alfie. Walk away.
Serenity is the best revenge."
She'd be wrong.
So long as you're sure.
Go and see Baroness Ortsey, at Bethlehem Royal Hospital.
She'll tell you who killed Esme.
Who's Baroness Ortsey?
The baroness is...
more of a "what" than a "who."
_
I'm here to see Baroness Ortsey.
Fill out an application.
We'll process your request in due course
and contact you by post.
I haven't got time for that. I need to see her now.
That won't be possible, sir.
John Ripper sent me.
Good morning, ma'am.
Good morning, Matron.
Good morning, young man.
What's your name?
Alfred Pennyworth.
Say it again.
Alfred Pennyworth.
I like your voice, Alfred Pennyworth.
How can I help you, Alfred?
Why are you in there? What did you do?
Oh, horrors, my dear, horrors.
Don't ask again or I'll tell you.
You'll wish you didn't know.
Why are you here, Alfred?
John Ripper said you can tell me who killed my fiancée.
But now you're here, you have doubts.
Well, I was expecting, you know, an informer.
You're a fortune teller, aren't you?
Oh, dear me, no.
I'm a witch. Different.
I don't believe in witches and ghosts and all that malarkey.
The truth doesn't care what you believe.
All right, then,
who killed my fiancée?
Tell me, and I'll cross your palm with silver.
Sarcasm is a very ugly form of wit.
And I don't know who killed your fiancée.
So you're wasting my time then.
Actually, you're wasting mine.
Sorry to bother you.
Who is the other woman?
- What do you mean by that? - What I say.
I... get a very strong feeling there's another woman involved
in the murder of your fiancée.
Who is she?
There is no other woman.
Then I'm mistaken.
Never mind.
You're very good... at standing still and silent.
That's a wonderful gift.
Go on.
Go on?
Do your hocus-pocus.
No, I won't.
Why not?
You're rude and cynical, and I don't want to help you.
- I apologize. - Not good enough.
Well, what do you want me to say?
Say, "Please, Madame, help me.
I'll do anything."
Please, Madame, help me. I'll do anything.
Very well. I'll help you,
but first, you must prove your faith in me.
How?
When the moon is full,
bring me a red rose
and the left hand of a murderer.
And I'll tell you all you need to know.
Give over.
How about some toad's eyeballs?
You're a nutcase, you are, or a bloody liar.
Either way, I'm a mug.
You'll be back, Alfred.
You'll be back.
_
Good to see you, Thomas.
Good to see you, sir.
The folks back home are eager to hear what went wrong
with the Gaunt operation from your perspective.
Why it wasn't Gaunt assassinated?
Well, my man cocked it up.
One of those things.
I was... very upset at first,
but then I analyzed the situation, and I find...
I can't blame myself.
Not entirely.
In fact, I rather blame the Company.
I should have been informed about all of your plans.
Should you indeed? Explain.
I asked myself, who ordered the death of Julian Thwaite?
Not Gaunt and the Raven Society.
Not Downing Street or the queen.
No?
The Thwaites were a team.
Why kill one of them when you should kill both?
Who benefits from such an odd arrangement?
Only one person... Undine Thwaite.
She becomes undisputed leader of the League.
Thin reasoning.
Oh, I have other evidence.
I'm just giving you the bones here.
If she did kill her husband, she's one of two things.
A reckless fool,
or a woman with powerful friends backing her play.
From which I conclude
Undine Thwaite and the U.S. government
conspired together to kill Julian Thwaite.
Interesting idea.
That's not a denial.
I can tell you...
that we have an asset very close to Undine Thwaite.
We control her.
Your asset's John Ripper.
I can't confirm or deny that.
Now you get to clean up the mess.
The U.S. congressional elections are coming up.
America needs at least six months
of peace and quiet in Europe.
So we need a truce
between the Ravens and the No-Names.
That's an executive operational memo.
In the next few days,
Undine Thwaite will arrange another meeting with Gaunt.
Our asset will make sure you'll be there
as one of Thwaite's team.
This time, she'll offer Gaunt a sincere and reasonable truce.
If Gaunt accepts, well and good.
If she refuses, she has to go.
Last time we spoke, Gaunt was dead at any price.
She's scared now.
Nearly dying will do that.
She'll be more flexible.
If Gaunt plays ball, she lives.
If not, you take her out.
Me?
Personally?
Are you ready?
Yes.
I am.
You tricked me!
How's that?
The old lady's a nutter.
Thinks she's a bloody witch.
And you don't believe her?
'Course I bloody don't.
There's no such thing as witches.
Sincerely, Alfie.
I know the baroness can help you
if you give her a chance.
If you have a little faith.
You tricked me, Mr. Ripper.
Suppose I did.
What then?
Well, then, I'm very disappointed in you.
That's life.
I'm an undertaker.
Nobody I meet is happy.
_
It's so good to see you out and about again, Alfie.
- Isn't it, Mr. P? - Yes, it is.
Only... you seem so angry.
Are you angry?
Me? Angry? No.
I'm your mother, Alfie.
I know your moods.
You've every... every right to be upset
after what you've been through, son.
So long as you don't... go back to lolling in bed.
What are you trying to say?
We're worried, Alfie.
All this running about with John Ripper.
I don't like to speak ill of anyone,
but he is not a good man.
I'm sorry, but he's not. He's...
Well, I wouldn't like to say what he is.
He's a bad influence.
Oh, don't worry, Mum.
I know what he is, and he's got no influence over me.
I'm done with him, and all that dark shit.
Got to look on the bright side.
Well, I'm very glad to hear it.
You've no need of friends like that, son.
You've got family that loves you.
That's right.
You remember that.
I will.
I'm sorry I've been such a burden since...
... since Esme died.
I'm gonna change.
I'm gonna get me old job back, start again.
Put the past behind me.
Yes?
Got it.
On my way.
God.
Christ.
Hi, little brother.
What are you doing here?
Is that a real gun?
Patricia, what are you doing here?
I need money, and you have some.
Why have you got a gun?
- Why are you back in London? - The air is damp.
- Good for the complexion. - Oh.
Why the fuck do you always stay
in these ghastly hotel rooms?
- Why don't you buy a place? - This is not convenient.
I have an urgent business meeting
- right now. - Don't worry.
I'm not staying.
500 pounds should be enough.
I can't give you any money, Patricia.
You'll spend it on drugs.
And I can't look after you right now.
Who asked you to look after me?
I distinctly told you to leave me the fuck alone, did I not?
I believe I did. Just give me
some money and let me go.
I love you, Pat. I don't want you to die.
That's so cute.
Why are you so unhappy?
Fuck you.
Oh. Jesus.
Thank goodness you're home.
May we come in?
Sure.
This is my sister, Patricia.
Watch yourself... okay.
- Is she okay? - Yep, she's fine.
She's drunk and stoned and pathetic.
Ugh, fuck off, you sanctimonious cocksucker.
Shut up.
Well, I know this is a terrible imposition,
but, uh, I have urgent business to attend to
and I can't leave her alone in this state.
She's liable to do... anything.
Could I leave her with you for a few hours?
I'm kind of busy.
Really?
She won't cause you any trouble.
Well, you just said she's liable to do anything.
Well, nothing you can't handle.
I really don't have anyone else to turn to,
you being a woman of the world, so to speak.
How long will you be gone?
Not long.
- Thank you so much. It's... - Mm.
... really very decent of you.
Where the fuck are we?
Now... she doesn't know anything
about our work together. Nothing.
How do I know you?
Yes, that's a good question.
Uh, would you mind very much if you're an ex-girlfriend?
I can't think of a more plausible story.
Did you dump me or did I dump you?
Ah. Um, does it matter?
She looks like the kind of woman who'll ask.
Well, I, I guess you dumped me.
Where am I?
Pat, this is Martha Kane, an old friend of mine.
Now, she's gonna look after you while I'm at work.
Please behave yourself.
All right, I have to go.
Thank you so much.
Oh, Lord...
Who are you, again?
- Martha. - "Martha."
Huh. Not Tommy's usual type at all.
What's his usual type?
You know, pretty little girls.
You're more of a "modern young woman," aren't you?
I bet you have an interesting job and all that crap.
What makes you think Thomas and I went out?
Why else would you let him use you like this?
You got me there.
Still pining for him, huh?
Actually, I dumped him.
Hmm.
I'm gonna make some coffee. Would you like a cup?
Sure.
You dumped him, huh?
- Really? - Why not?
Billionaire society stud Thomas Wayne
does not get dumped.
Well, there's always a first time.
Well, aren't you fierce?
_
What time is it?
Uh, around 7:00.
What day is it?
Friday.
Yay.
Do you like parties, Martha?
Fabulous, huh?
Who the hell is this guy?
Aleister is a... whosit, a satanist.
A satanist?
Don't worry, he's cool. Nobody minds.
He's very fashionable.
I don't know about this.
You're not scared, are you?
Please.
Well, then...
Patricia.
Kiss me, you creature.
Hello, beast.
Who's this?
This is my dear friend Martha.
- This is Aleister Crowley. - How do you do?
Oh, I love her already.
We shall be great friends, Martha.
Time will tell, Mr. Crowley.
Oh, she's priceless.
Thank you so much for bringing her, Patricia.
Eat, drink, be happy.
Isn't he a scream?
Uh, let's not stay too long.
You're worse than my fucking brother.
Live a little.
Patricia...
Can't. Busy.
Are you clear on what's to be done?
Uh-huh.
Not dancing, Martha?
Not my thing.
What is your thing?
I'm not sure I really have a thing.
Oh, everyone has a thing.
My thing is love.
That's not very satanic.
On the contrary.
Satan is love.
One of us has been misinformed.
In your heart, you know I'm right.
In your heart,
you worship Satan just as I do.
Every beautiful woman does.
Wow.
You move fast.
This, uh, warlock routine,
it's all an elaborate act, right?
Yes, of course.
Every life is an elaborate act. Isn't yours?
I mean, you don't really worship Satan, do you?
It's a fancy way to seduce women.
You think I'm trying to seduce you?
I think you'd try to seduce a dead horse.
That's funny. I think you're trying to seduce me.
Those sad eyes are pulling me in.
I'm trying very hard to resist.
Broken-winged romantics
are a fatal weakness of mine.
Is that right?
It's so easy to make them happy and whole.
But then it's so easy to break them again.
I'm sorry about your husband, Mrs. Thwaite.
I shan't expect you to believe me,
but it wasn't our doing.
I don't believe you, but I will forgive you.
I'm not entirely blameless myself.
I hope you'll forgive me, too.
Of course.
Do you have children, Mrs. Gaunt?
- Dogs. - Oh. What kind?
Two lurchers, various spaniels.
We have golden Labs.
Dogs are wonderful, aren't they?
So simple and honest.
They also eat shit.
Let's forgo the small talk, shall we?
Your organization is in a wretched shambles.
So you want to call a truce.
Sincerely this time?
We do. Sincerely.
Let's put the past behind us, Mrs. Gaunt.
Let's show the world what can be done
when two women reason together.
Let's make peace.
The country's descending into barbarous bloody depravity.
We must turn back before it's too late.
I agree. I agree with all my heart.
First things first.
Order your grubby thugs off the streets immediately,
and I'll do the same.
I suggest we draft a-a brief joint statement
for the newspapers as soon as possible.
Then we'll-we'll hash out the nuts and bolts later.
Wonderful.
I'm so happy, Mrs. Gaunt.
May I hug you?
If you must.
Oh. Hi, Martha.
Patricia.
What the hell's going on?
- What? - Look at you.
Look at you.
You've been crying.
Because I'm happy.
Okay.
It's time for us to go.
? In-a-gadda-da-vida, honey ?
? Don't you know that I love you? ?
? In-a-gadda-da-vida, baby ?
? Don't you know that I'll always be true? ?
? Oh, won't you come with me ?
? And take my hand? ?
? Oh, won't you come with me ?
? And walk this land? ?
? Please take my hand... ?
? Let me tell you now ?
? In-a-gadda-da-vida, honey ?
? Don't you know that I love you? ?
? In-a-gadda-da-vida, baby ?
? Don't you know that I'll always be true? ?
? Oh, won't you come with me ?
? And take my hand? ?
? Oh, won't you come with me ?
? And walk this land? ?
? Please take my hand... ?
Extra, extra!
Civil war averted! Extra!
Ravens and No-Names declare truce!
Civil war averted!
- Extra, extra! Thank you, sir! - Thank you.
He's going to be trouble.
Hatchet Frank?
I hope he tries, the big nonce.
Alfie...
Yeah. I know, mate.
No trouble. Sorry.
I'm trying to act sensible, but I'm on needles all the time.
I don't know what to do with myself.
Ah, fuck.
Good evening.
What do you want?
I'm looking for my sister.
- Seriously? - Seriously.
Have you seen her?
She likes this place.
She hasn't been in.
What about Martha Kane?
What, you mislaid her as well?
They were together.
They've been missing two days.
Can't help you. Sorry.
Can't or won't help me?
Both.
I don't trust you.
Never have, never will.
Alfred, you know what I do.
I'm a fucking spy, okay?
I ask too many questions, I tell too many lies.
That's my job.
But you can trust me.
I could be a good friend to you.
All right, I'm convinced. I trust you.
You, my friend, are too cynical for your own good.
If you see Martha or Patricia,
you ask them to give me a call.
Please.
Will do, Mr. Wayne.
Shut your fucking noise, you prick,
or I'll have your fucking balls for earrings!
Calm down.
- All right, everyone stay calm. - What's the problem?
The gentleman doesn't want to pay his bill.
Is that right, sir?
You're the top boy, are you?
You think you can handle me?
I hope that won't be necessary, sir.
Are you dissatisfied with the service?
Yeah, the drink's piss, and the food's shit.
Seven bottles of our best champagne.
100 oysters.
Pay the bill.
You kiss my ass, you skinny poof.
I've buried a dozen men that could eat you for breakfast.
Get out!
Fuck you, mate!
Stay where you are.
Alfie!
You all right?
Yeah, not too bad.
You happy now?
Sorry, Bazza. I know I was out of order, but...
When the moon is full,
bring me a red rose
and the left hand of a murderer.
How'd she do that?
Who is it?
Alfred. Now, I don't know what the hell is going on,
but I brought you what you asked for.
Alfred.
What was it I asked for?
Oh, yes, now I remember.
The case of the strangled fiancée.
How did you get in here?
Does it matter?
No.
But I'm impressed.
Well done.
What you gonna do with the hand I gave you?
Me? Nothing.
It's just a hard-to-get object.
Shows you're a serious customer.
Tigs likes to chew on them, don't you?
Speaking of hands, take mine.
Tell me...
your dreams.
I don't have any.
I thought I'd be married to Esme.
I mean your sleeping dreams.
Oh, I have 'em, but they go as soon as I wake up.
I don't remember.
Nothing?
Scraps.
Are they scraps of good dreams or bad dreams?
Do people have good dreams?
What do you see?
There you are, Alfie.
I was worried about you.
I was in the jungle, Mum.
It was horrible.
What did you do to me?
Nothing.
You can go now.
- That's all? - That's all.
Sounds like a damn poor witch.
There must be more.
Same again, lads?
Just a glass of water for me, please.
For fuck sake, Spanish, go away.
Shh.
? 'Twas there that you whispered tenderly ?
? That you loved me ?
? You'd always be ?
? My Lili of the lamplight ?
? My own Lili Marlene. ?
Alfred?
Yeah. What?
You fell asleep for a moment.
I was dreaming.
The tea. There was something in the tea.
Of course there was something in the tea.
I'm a witch.
My God.
It was him.
The captain.
He killed Esme. Is that it?
I don't know. Is it?
The captain.
I hope I've been of some help.
You have to go now.
Alfie, thank goodness. Where have you been?
I was out with the boys.
All night?
Oh, as long as you're home safe.
Ooh, you're as cold as ice.
And you've cut yourself.
How'd you do that?
I don't know.
It's nothing.
Oh.
Those posh bastards in London
will swallow their teeth
when they see you, won't they, Mrs. Spicer?
They'll be extremely surprised.
I am looking rather spiffy, aren't I?
I'm that proud of you.
I wish you'd wait a bit, though, before going south.
Get all your strength back.
I am fit as a fiddle, my dear.
Ooh, ooh!
Wreaking revenge and redeeming your rights
and saving the country is all well and good to talk about,
but doing it, well, it's a different thing.
You'll overtax yourself.
No. I've never felt more alive.
More full of passionate energy.
The winds of destiny are broad abeam.
Thank you, Bet.
- Give over. - No.
If it wasn't for your friendship and generosity,
then I...
Hello?
I was... I was just saying, Peggy,
I owe my life and my soul to your-your deep kindness.
I shall never forget.
- Go on. - He says he's off
back to London soon as he's made arrangements.
Oh.
Are you sure you're ready?
See?
I've been very happy here,
but my duty says that I must go.
There's no time to waste.
Then you must go.
Won't say we won't miss you.
Will you come with me to London?
Both of you?
Really?
Well, I have a battle ahead.
I'll need loyal friends.
Friends that I love and trust.
London.
I don't know.
We'll go.
Splendid.
And then everybody laughed at him.
Do you remember?
- I do. - Aye.
The captain.
Tall, skinny fella. Posh.
Yeah, that's right. Him.
I say!
Steady on, Doris.
What about him?
When we buried Spanish,
he was there, watching.
You were whistling "Lili Marlene."
I caught his eye. He looked away.
But for a split second, I saw his face.
Pure murder.
I forgot all about him.
Never thought of him all these years.
- Alfred... - I think it was him.
The captain, he killed Esme to punish me.
Lots of captains wanted to punish you.
No, I think it was him.
The witch told you this?
Well, not exactly. No.
I saw him... in a dream.
Well, more of a vision, really.
He was crystal clear, though.
He has been waiting.
Waiting all this time to pay me back.
For embarrassing him five years ago?
Now, look, if you could see
how he looked at me, you'd understand.
I remembered his name.
Captain John Fitz-Smytth Curzon,
Third Battalion, Rutland Fusiliers.
I called the Army Records Office.
He survived the war.
That's where he lives.
Alfie,
just so we're clear,
you've no proof yet... nothing.
A feeling.
No bloodshed.
Please say yes.
Yeah.
What the fuck is this?
"Ha ha.
"A little too late, my friend.
"Don't think I'm sorry or scared.
I'm glad you know the truth."
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --