[sizzling]
- These murders are in danger of agitating the poor and,
more importantly, they target us.
So, then what we need to do, clearly...
[clears throat]
Yes, Gladys. Serve the meal,
then be gone.
Yes, Mr. Garvey.
Miss.
- Please close the door on your way out.
- Does anyone feel uneasy discussing these things
with your staff in such close proximity?
- My staff know they'd pay with their lives
if anything were to ever be repeated.
Now can we please get on with the subject at hand?
As I was saying,
what we need to do is find Georges Rondeau and kill him.
- Yeah.
We have laws in this land.
- Mm, right. I'd almost forgotten.
I, for one, would sleep more comfortably knowing
for sure that we caught the actual guilty party.
- Of course Georges is the killer.
The murders started the moment he arrived.
- Or his showing up is the perfect distraction
for someone devious.
- Fine. So, we capture him. - How?
He's as slippery as an eel.
- And after Eddie's, pardon my French,
fuck up, he knows we're after him.
- It's getting cold! Eat up.
There must be something that would lure him.
- Mm. Good.
[gasping]
- Venetia!
- Melanda, dearest, could you check our lovely
friend to see if she's having a stroke?
- My sister, the frisson
between she and Georges is positively "aphrodesic".
She may know where he is.
If not, we can use her as a lure.
Hm?
- The only way
to Georges Rondeau's heart
is through his billfold.
[scoffs]
- Okay, so using some
kind of hocus-pocus,
we trick the murderous
magician to meet your sister where?
- The Queen's Chamber.
- You think he'll feel safe at The Queen's Chamber?
- After what we did there? - Hm.
- No.
- Forget using Venetia as a lure, use one of these pies.
Tastiest damn pies I've ever eaten. What is it?
Pork? It's a little too gamey for pork.
Boar?
- All right, so we get ahold of him somehow,
then what? Public trial?
- Yes, a public trial.
It's not like Georges Rondeau is a nobody whore.
His fans are going to wonder what happened to him.
- Are you insane? The people will be on his side.
- Salomé, as always, is right.
I mean, The Widow's killing the rich and the famous,
something they wish they could do.
- So we make it look like he's a victim of The Widow.
I know I can think of a few sick perverted things
I'd like to do to Georges.
- Ooh, Daddy, do tell.
- No, no, no, no. People! We gotta do this by the book.
We gotta send a message around that you can't just go around
killing rich people.
What the fuck is that?
A bone?
[suspenseful music]
It's a tooth. It's a human fucking tooth!
[gasping]
[gagging]
- Basil...
- The only person I know with that many gold teeth is...
was...
Eddie.
[suspenseful music]
[gagging]
- There's words at the bottom of mine.
"The unjust."
- Another message from The Widow?
- I'm unjust?
- "Justice for." - "Justice for the unjust."
- "Piping hot." - "Served."
- Okay...
"Justice for the unjust. Best served piping hot."
- What the fuck?
Gladys!
- Sir, I don't know how that could have happened.
Please don't be cross with me-- - I will not be cross with you,
Gladys, if you tell me who put the meat in these fucking pies,
because if you can't, then I'm going to have to
assume that it was you.
- Her? The Widow? That's insane.
- I get them from your butcher, Yorgi, sir.
- Who brought them to you? How long ago?
- I didn't know him. It was very dark.
- What did he look like?!
- Uh, he had a cap hiding his face.
I'm sorry, sir. I told you that they're my secret recipe,
but I've been lying. I'm so sorry.
- Go.
Go!
[gasping, whimpering]
- She was here.
- He. Georges is our Widow.
- A master of disguise, too.
He's always five steps ahead of us. What do we do?
How do we fight this?
- Oh, pull yourself together, for Christ's sake.
It's Georges. Plain old "pick a card" Georges.
We just have to find the viper.
And we will.
[suspenseful music]
- The cook broke down
and told us Basil's fancy pies
were made in here.
[speaking foreign language]
- Oy.
Who are you and what are you doing in my abattoir?
- Yorgi. Superintendent Kashtinsky and this
is Detective Rijkers.
- We're here because something
went wrong with the recent order
of pies you sent 'round to the Garvey household.
- Gone wrong how?
- There was a sprinkling
of human teeth in the latest batch.
- What...
- I pulled one right out of my own mouth,
I don't mind saying.
- I don't see how that could happen.
There's always one of us in here.
- Where exactly do you make the pies?
- The pies are assembled over there.
What are you doing?
- Who makes the pies?
- Mal'chik. Boys, uh,
little ones still too small to do the heavy work.
- How small are we talking?
- Young. Eleven, twelve.
- So, uh, not potential killers.
- They not yet strong enough to lift leg of lamb.
- How hard would you say it is to get in here at night?
- I've done it a couple times.
My wife, you know, she give me hell.
- I think I got something.
- Eddie?
- What you mean, Eddie?
- Oh, it's human.
- Eddie. - That Eddie?!
Eddie would I know?
- Where's the rest of him?
- If he's in the pie,
he could be... any one these mince and mix trays.
[uneasy music]
- The attack starts on the body here at the lower
fifth lumbar vertebrae.
It's the least extreme of the hits.
- But bad enough to paralyze Eddie from the waist down?
- Mm-hmm.
[screaming]
- And next, he's hit here,
at the thoracic vertebrae...
[screaming]
...ending here at the top cervical vertebrae.
It's the most brutal of the all the strikes.
Interesting.
- What?
- If I was to kill a man, I'd start at that point,
not end there.
The killer took their time.
It was violent, methodical,
at her mercy.
No muscle control.
[screaming]
Suffocating.
Alive until the bitter end.
- Suffering. It's just what The Widow wanted.
It's a message. - Whoever The Widow is,
they know a thing or two about human physiology.
- Someone like you?
- But I'm right-handed,
while the killer uses their left.
Does that clear me, Detective?
- More pressing question is does it clear Georges Rondeau?
[sighing]
[uneasy music]
- Fortuna, Prosperitas et Abundantia.
Habeo Omnia,
Pecunia venit ad me.
Habeo Omnia. Dives sum,
Totus sum. Habeo Omnia,
Habeo Omnia.
Regina Simcoe.
[knocking]
- Georges?
- I need to speak with him.
- As do I. Dress rehearsal started an hour ago.
- You haven't heard from him?
- Not since yesterday.
- Do you know where he was last night?
- Did you not hear me when I said I haven't heard from
him since yesterday afternoon?
- If you had to guess...
- Georges knows many people in town,
many he hopes to see.
And then there are always
admirers looking to commune
with him after the shows.
- Tell me, what is Georges' handedness?
- Left. Why?
- Hmm.
- If you're going to continue to be rude and mysterious,
I'd like you to leave.
- Oh, you would?
Let me make something very clear for you, young lady.
If you know anything,
you need to tell me. Now.
- Georges could be at Regina Simcoe's.
- Why her?
- Your guess is as good as mine.
He's obsessed with the woman.
[sighs]
[uneasy music]
[deep breathing]
- Don't stop.
[sighs]
- Mm.
- Oh...
Ah...
Don't stop...
- I'm waiting for you.
- Don't go!
[gasping]
Don't leave me!
[knocking]
[door opening]
- Sorry to intrude, ma'am.
- It's fine. It's fine. What is it?
- The Great Georges Rondeau is waiting for you downstairs.
Should I send him away?
- No, um...
Tell him I'll be down presently.
I must apologize to you, Mr. Rondeau.
- My goodness, whatever for?
- I was hot-tempered the other day. You know it's true.
- Oh! You have been through so much.
- Yes, I am still deeply mourning.
- That, my dear, is why I'm here.
I come bearing salves.
Made from the herbs and essences of the Peruvian witch doctors.
Only I carry on their great teachings.
- What exactly is it?
- A tonic for what truly ails you.
It will soothe your gentle soul and cleanse you of your grief.
It is the only thing that saved me when I lost my dear love,
Budiwati, to the flu of '86.
- I'm so sorry. I had no idea.
You know of grief?
- I do.
It is one more thing we have in common.
My soul was shredded at her loss.
- I, too, feel torn to pieces.
I do not know how I will ever escape this dark tunnel.
Life feels over.
Or I want it to be.
How am I to go on when...
When my everything is gone?
[whimpering]
- Drink and you will find your way through, my dear.
[door opening] - Stop!
- What on earth are you doing?!
- I should ask the same thing, sir!
You're under arrest for multiple charges of murder!
- What? What? No! No, no, no.
- Let's go. - This is outrageous! Let me go!
- There she is!
You slept away the entire morning.
- My apologies.
- Oh, pish-posh my dear, pish-posh, and all that.
To sleep, perchance to dream.
- We've got your breakfast ready.
- Everything you require.
- This is... This is lovely.
- You need to make sure you eat right.
Have an extra egg for you.
- Oh, thank you.
- It will bring some of
the colour back to your cheeks.
- We need that.
- Oh! No, no. It's just, well,
this was supposed to be a surprise for all three of us.
- We're getting our portraits done!
- Our portraits?
- Three sisters. This very afternoon.
- Won't that be so much fun?
- We must all look our very best.
- I... I see. Of course.
- Uh, my word. Wait 'til the photographer
gets a look at you.
"Incandescent," he will say.
Positively incandescent!
[grunting]
- God damn it! Now fuck my mother
and the demon cock she rode in on!
[mysterious music]
- You have made a grave error, my friend.
- No!
No!
Sir! You made the error.
An error that will lead to your grave!
A grave that this entire city will dance on when the true
depths of your depravity are revealed!
- I caught him trying to poison Regina Simcoe.
- Check the concoction yourself.
- I think not. Your guilt is-- - My guilt? Based on what?
What actual evidence do you possess?
- My detective found this in your wagon.
The same empty wagon where your undisturbed bed spoke
volumes about your whereabouts last night.
- While I'm flattered that you think I could fit into that,
I was sewing it for my assistant,
the lovely, lithe Shanika.
We're working The Widow into our act.
- Very convenient excuse.
- Then where were you last night
when Eddie Jacobs was being murdered?
- Eddie?
- Ah! Always the performer.
Look at him. You'd think he didn't know.
- I didn't.
- Where were you?
- I was out impaling someone, not Eddie, with my own sword.
- Your sword? The Widow used a sword. When?
- Sir, I believe he's speaking metaphorically.
- Oh.
You foul-mouthed cocksucker!
Jesus! Sir! That is uncalled for!
- What is uncalled for is this fucker not answering
our questions!
Where were you last night?
Do you even have an alibi?!
- I do. But out of respect for my...
companion,
I refuse to name names.
You'll just have to take the word of a gentleman.
- Your word will get you hanged.
- Fuck that impresario.
We've got him right where we want him,
caught up in his own web of lies.
- Sir, we should at least try to find this alibi.
- No!
It's time to tell the whole city
we have got our man.
We've got our man.
[bell ringing]
- Have we perhaps taken a wrong turn?
This does not look like a part of town where anyone
respectable would wander.
- Oh, sister, dear,
stop being such a fusspot.
- I'm not. I'm only thinking
about dear, innocent Verdi.
- These streets, though mean,
are nothing compared
to the tenements of South Boston where
I would volunteer with the poor.
- Mm. I, for one, love these little dark corners.
The haunts of artists and labourers.
You could positively breathe in the creation unfolding.
- And this artist we're meeting is?
- Oh, you mustn't be taken aback by his appearance.
He's a master at his craft.
- A veritable DaVinci, capable of moulding
the plainest of clay into a Mona Lisa,
all with the magic of a camera lens.
[mysterious music]
- Here we are. Knock, knock, knock!
- We're slightly early.
- Pas de problème.
A Botticelli brought to life.
Enchanté.
- It's a pleasure to meet you.
- Pleasure is all mine. Come.
[door closing]
- And my day only gets better.
Merlin, shouldn't you be able
to wiggle out of those ropes,
all while pulling a rabbit out of your murderous ass?
- As I told the good superintendent,
I am not The Widow.
- Really?
So, explain to me, then,
why these killings only started
after you got back to town?
- Perhaps because the killer was waiting for us all to gather
in the same city?
- Mm. What is it,
delayed guilt?
You conjured up a conscience?
- I did not kill our friends. - Enough.
I arrested you. You're guilty.
- The same way Andrew May Sr. was guilty?
- You confess, and I will see to it that when you're hanged,
it's quick and painless.
You don't and you will feel
every last tendon in your neck snap,
every last drop of piss roll down your leg as you jerk
and fight trying to snatch your last breath.
- You won't be alive to.
- Are you threatening me?
- Ugh, I'm stating a fact. I'm safe in here.
Out there you and you?
Sitting ducks.
And I can tell you one thing, Basil,
our cunning friend The Widow has something
far worse than a little neck
stretching in store for the two of you.
Kashtinsky arrested the wrong guy.
He has no actual evidence.
The longer you waste with me,
the more of a chance you give
The Widow to hunt you down.
[uneasy music]
- So you're building this case on a hunch?
- It's more than a hunch! He's our man.
- I don't disagree,
but if you're planning on holding a public trial,
then we need actual evidence which you don't have.
- Here's evidence.
This was found in his possession.
- This?
Georges fits into this?
- Not him.
His assistant, Shanika, could.
Perhaps he gives the orders, she carries them out?
- There's no way some itsy-bitsy woman could pull off violent
crimes like these.
- I think you need
to give women more credit.
Sir, at least let me follow this new lead.
- Find her. Arrest her. Bring her back in for questioning.
- Thank you.
- Get some proof,
real fucking proof, otherwise Georges is right
and The Widow is planning her next move as we speak!
[suspenseful music]
[imitating chicken]
[laughing]
- Shh!
Sweet, happy chuck.
Look at all the gleaming kernels of corn on the ground
in front of you.
Eat them up before someone else does.
Oh, wait, what's that?
Is that a fox in the henhouse?
Quick, little chuck,
run to your nest to protect your baby!
[imitating chicken]
[laughing]
Oh, you weren't fast enough.
That dastardly fox has her and he's tearing her head off
her fluffy little body.
- Enough!
Enough!
Enough of this cruelty, I say!
- And if I refuse?
- You'll spend the night in one of my cells
on a bed made of steel.
- Okay.
My little chuck, everything is all right.
That wasn't your chick.
That wasn't a chick at all.
And the fox has gone away.
And now, as I count backwards from three,
you'll wake up.
Three, two, one and...
[laughing]
- Why am I on the floor?
- Come, Miss, let us find you some air.
You should all be ashamed of yourselves.
[uneasy music]
[grunting]
- Come on!
[panting]
You stupid, talentless hack.
Here to let me go?
- On the contrary, my friend.
I'm here to get your confession.
[footsteps approaching]
- I don't think there'll be a show tonight.
- Is Georges okay? - He's sitting in a cell
for the murder of Eddie Jacobs.
I'm also here to arrest you.
- For what?!
- For helping him.
We found The Widow costume.
It's clearly made for you.
- No. We were adding that as a new part of our act.
You think I could do something that horrible?
- Where were you last night? - Here, setting up.
I ran an errand for Georges and then asleep
in the wagons out back.
- Georges has an alibi.
Problem is he won't say who that is,
but if you can identify this alibi and the alibi holds,
you'll both go free. Otherwise,
you're coming down to the station.
- Georges is going to kill me.
But I bet I know who he was with.
- Look at you beautiful ladies!
[shutter clicks]
Superb!
Ah!
Now, let's start with the individual portraits
starting with... Verdi.
- This is so exciting!
- I've put some fetching outfits behind the screen for you,
my little rose.
- Wonderful. Thank you.
- Why don't you go back there and find something you like?
[uneasy music]
[grunting]
- What the fuck are you doing?
- If you don't confess to The Widow killings
with Shanika as your accomplice,
then you'll spend the night screaming.
- I didn't kill anybody!
- That's all you have to say?
- No, no, no, no! You know me!
And Shanika wouldn't hurt a fly.
You've got this all wrong.
No, no, no, please! Kashtinsky! No, no, no. I swear to you.
I don't know anything and if I did,
I'd go straight to you.
- And now here you are.
[screaming]
- Sir Andrew May for you, ma'am.
- Pastor.
I can't tell you the relief I feel by your visit.
- I just heard they've arrested someone for Alistair's murder.
I hesitate to say this wonderful news, but--
- No, no. It is. It is a glorious day.
But Pastor, the vengeance I feel?
May the Lord save me. I... I do... I don't know what to feel.
My emotions... - Of course.
- I wish no one any harm, Pastor,
but the man who did this to Alistair,
I fear I will celebrate the day of his hanging.
- Should we sit?
[soft music]
Mrs. Simcoe, you are a righteous woman.
And the Lord knows this.
And your dark thoughts? Who amongst us has not had them?
This is what makes us human. How good is chosen.
- I haven't always chosen an honourable path.
Pastor...
I've sinned.
- As have we all.
- But I dallied with the Devil to find out what befell Alistair
that horrible night.
A seance, Pastor.
I participated in the dark arts and Satan himself used me.
- Well...
who would not want to speak to a departed love...
Were it possible.
- I don't know how I didn't see the truth about Alistair.
- Alistair must have known how wrong some of this was
and he sought to protect you.
All sinners are in torment.
The way through is faith and prayer.
- Please. Can we pray?
I need to feel that so desperately.
- Our father in Heaven...
[both]: May his name be kept holy.
[panting]
- We were friends.
- We weren't. You always looked down on me with your fancy ways.
- That is entirely your imagination.
Please, know that when I say that I don't know anything,
I mean it.
You're making a huge mistake.
- Because we were acquaintances,
I kept everything below the knee.
And now I'm gonna start going up your body.
Until you confess. And you will.
- You're intoxicated and insane and far more guilty
than I ever was.
- Not from what I remember
of you that night.
- No! No! No! No! Please!
[screaming]
Help me! Help me! Help me!
- Detective, get off! That's enough!
- You don't know what you're doing!
Georges?! He's this close to cracking.
- Mr. Crenshaw is his alibi.
- A pimp?! You're going to believe
the lying bullshit of a pimp?!
- Sir, I am.
It was corroborated by two other witnesses.
- Him and a couple of his whores, I suppose.
They can all be bought!
- He wasn't with any of my girls, sir.
He spent the night with me, as my guest, from dusk till dawn.
- I sleep with men.
- But you've slept with all-- - Men and women.
I'm just not as public with my assignations with the...
rougher sex.
- Then I'm gonna arrest you for crimes against nature!
- That's enough! - Get the fuck off of me!
- Get... get off him! - Fuck!
- Go! Leave!
- Thank you, my friend.
Thank you.
- Sir, sir.
- What are you doing?! - Sir, you're clearly
cracking up!
You just broke the law.
- It's within the law.
I've been enforcing it for decades!
- Sir, you just tortured an innocent man!
- He's not innocent!
- And you're clearly high as a kite.
- I assure you, I've only had a few.
- No, it's scrambling your brain. You need to go home
and straighten out. Now.
I'll take charge while you're recovering.
- You'll what?! - Let's go!
Fine!
[uneasy music]
- Where are my sisters?
- They've given you some privacy.
You, my dear, are a revelation.
Such a beautiful face and such sensual curves.
And that décolletage?
What wonders does it lead to?
[gasping]
Oh. Honey,
I'm not into you that way.
But many men will be.
And that's why we want to capture you in full bloom, for posterity.
To remind your future husband
of the beautiful rose he fell in love with.
- I'm sure this is enough.
- Oh.
That's your inexperience talking.
Men are insatiable.
There's no such thing as enough.
Every woman coming in here is doing the same thing.
Or we can put you back in that other dress
and your sisters can try to marry you off to a farmer,
or an elderly widower with
eight children and wooden teeth.
- You're certain these will only be seen by my future husband?
- A special, secret gift for the luckiest man in the world.
[chuckling]
- I will support you in any official complaints or charges
that you'd like to take up against the constabulary.
- That won't be necessary.
- Sir, you were violated at the hands of our...
our superintendent.
- Thank you, my dear.
Oh, if I ever have the need of a mummy for one of my acts,
I'll be sure to call on you.
[door opening]
- Thank you.
- I was violated, my good detective.
But if word were to get out about my proclivities,
well, then, I'd be violated in the public sphere as well,
wouldn't I?
- Fuck 'em.
Fuck 'em all.
Ain't nothing wrong with who we are.
- So I will accept this as punishment enough.
And I'm trusting you to keep my alibi to yourself.
- Of... of course.
- You can rely on him, Georges. One of the last few good cops
in this town.
- One final thing:
The knots that you used to tie up Eddie,
they were rather unique.
- Tricks of the trade.
Easily untied if you know the puzzle.
Nearly impossible if you don't.
- Hm.
- If unique knots are where you're sniffing, Detective,
half the trades and countries of the world have their own.
You'll need to cast a wide net.
Now, if I'm free to go...
My chariot, please?
[groaning]
I'll have to come up with a magnificent tale
of what's befallen me before my next show.
Perhaps a roving band of Crimean cannibals
tried to eat my foot in retribution for the golden q
Yak idol I stole from their holiest of caves?
[chuckling]
[groaning]
- Thank you. - Okay. All right. Ooh!
That is not good. Oh.
- They're going to turn out perfectly, trust me.
I mean how could you shoot her?
She's beautiful.
- She looked a proper little trollop.
- Shh. She looked so good!
- They're going to fetch us plenty of buyers. A plethora.
I promise you.
- Verdi, be a dear and hurry up now, will you?
[uneasy music]
- Aren't you going to take your portraits now?
- No. I'm afraid that Salomé has more customers.
We'll have to come back another time.
- I was so taken with how photogenic you are.
- Salomé says he's never photographed anyone
quite so beautiful before.
- Never ever.
[chuckling]
- What's all this, then?
- Just a little portraiture session with the ladies.
- Since when do upper-class women like the Botticellis
come by here?
- Word of my artistry has spread.
- Bullshit.
Nothing fucking happens
in my place without my knowing.
You know the rules.
Don't think our friendship
lets you break 'em.
- I promise you I'm never--
- Hold your slippery tongue.
I'll kick you back out on the streets just as fast
as I saved you from them.
[groaning]
- Fucking bastard!
The young whippersnapper wants my job!
Fuck him!
[coughing]
[wheezing]
Is it you?
It is...
My love.
Just forget about those awful people.
I've had to deal with their kind all my life.
Friendly to my face, but they've never truly accepted me...
being Jewish, as I am.
[sighs]
So, I say fuck 'em.
Fuck 'em all.
I can take you away from this.
- You can?
You know of another house in need of a woman like myself?
- I do.
Mine.
- Sir, I... I mean no disrespect and I am most appreciative,
but can a chief of police--
- Superintendent.
- A... afford to keep a maid under his employ?
- No, my lovely Margaret.
What I mean to say is
I can take you away from this
by making you my wife.
[uneasy music]
- So you save me and in exchange I get to...
What? Have sex with you whenever you want?
I get to live out the rest of my days
in your one-bedroom tenement, having your babies,
completely at your mercy?
If I'm gonna sell my body, and I have before,
I'd like to at least make some money out of the arrangement.
[sighs]
I'd best get back to work.
[suspenseful music]
- Margaret...
I forgive you.
And I know you can forgive me.
[suspenseful music]
No! Please!
Ah! Somebody help! Somebody help me!
Ah...
Please, let me go. It was such a long time ago.
I've been a good, upstanding man since that one little slip.
I shouldn't have to die for one mistake!
[neighing]
[soft music]
- Are you here to save me?
- I tried to save you.
But you rejected me.
- No... Save me now!
I'll go with you now!
- I'm just here to watch.
[screaming]
[neighing]
Somebody help me!
[neighing]
[screaming]
[neighing]
Subtitling: difuze