Slasher

Happy Valentine's Day, ma'am. Delivery for...

Give it here. In future,

no need to knock as though you're waking the dead.

It's a knocker, not a battering ram.

Oh! Isn't Basil a darling!

Heavens, sister, it isn't even 10 of the clock.

Oh! Violet creams. Someone loosen my stays.

"Wilt thou be mine?

A token of my passion for thee, most beautiful and beloved..."

"Verdi."

We are selling her immediately!

I suppose I should go.

You take everything you want...

everything you need and just run off.

I see how you play.

You've done too much for me already.

Let me do more.

Molto grazie.

But I'm hoping I don't need another alibi today.

Or another rescue from police torture.

Maybe tomorrow.

I really need to go.

Please stay.

I don't want to impose.

I'll feel better if you stay.

For me.

Miss!

Happy Saint Valentine's.

What is this?

Well, it's an apple, of course.

A Valentine's apple.

Next time, miss, bring somethin' useful.

A man with a job.

It can be difficult to seem grateful when one wants for so much mo...

But she's right. What real use is an apple?

I want to help these people, Andrew. Really help.

Not simply paper over the problem with a new pattern.

And you shall.

Your determination is unmatched.

Ladies, look away.

Rigor mortis is firmly established.

There's already a slight loosening of the shoulder joints.

Which means he's been dead for a little while.

Twelve hours, give or take.

I'm seeing lots of abrasions.

Premortem... along with bruising, broken bones.

Do you think he was beaten?

Tortured?

No. Dragged.

There's a lot of grit in the abrasions, which are also linear.

So by horse or behind a wagon, perhaps.

The Widow's not getting any gentler.

Nor is she slowing down any.

We should move the body back to the operating theatre.

Found this in his toga.

Happy Valentine's to me.

"One shot the arrow,

Another strung the bow,

A third cut the marrow and a fourth told her no.

But the one who lured the sparrow, The one who set the bait...

"He will die in pieces and suffer all my hate."

I need you to help the doctor transport away the body.

Mullman, you need to search the area for any horses or carts

that could've been used to do this.

Look for blood, tissue, ropes, chains, any evidence of dragging.

Are my witnesses still here?

Thank you.

My apologies.

I need to ask if there's anything else you'd like to add to your statement.

Nothing that I can think of at the moment, no.

We'll call on you if there's anything else we need.

Well, Regina, I have an appointment

to counsel a parishioner, but I could walk you as far as...

I wonder, actually, Mrs. Simcoe,

if I could have a moment.

Of course.

Good afternoon, Mr. Garvey. I wasn't expecting you.

Well, it's Saint Valentine's.

Yes. And...

yesterday was the thirteenth and...

tomorrow will be the fifteenth.

I'm eager to hear how very much you enjoyed my gift.

- I'm sorry? - The chocolates.

I shall wring that delivery boy's neck myself

and have another box delivered straight away.

That's... not necessary.

You, beautiful girl,

should have the stars and the moon.

Least I can do is secure another large box of...

really quite expensive sweeties.

I cannot and will never be your valentine.

Well that is where we disagree.

I could never betray Viviana.

Every girl has her weakness.

I've learned yours is not chocolate. So...

flowers perhaps? Fashionable gowns?

Mr. Garvey, this cannot happen. None of this can...

Would you like a horse?

Verdi.

Think of yourself... for once.

Of your own desires and...

womanly needs.

I have not and will never betray my sisters.

It is unconscionable of you to ask that of me.

Now leave.

Go.

- Where did you get this? - I tore it from the Widow herself.

Black silk.

Somewhat degraded and worn, but quite good quality.

It-it seemed like something unique.

You're right. It's chirimen silk.

- What's that? - It's Japanese...

I think. Rather rare.

I have an idea of just who we can ask about its origin.

Mrs. Simcoe! I have a new chiffon. Just arrived from New York.

Mr. Chow, this is Detective Rijkers.

But I also just received organdy.

Reseda green, perfect for your eyes. A, new suit, perhaps.

We've actually come with a very specific question.

Can you tell me what this is, please?

It smells of mold.

Poorly kept, but...

Oh, but it is silk. Chirimen.

- Do you sell this fabric? - Hang on.

Everything you need. Eighty-three cents per yard.

Well, firstly, that is robbery most hideous. And...

secondly, this isn't the same quality.

And you, sir, know it.

Fine. I don't carry chirimen.

There's no demand for it in this boondock town.

But I have ordered a chirimen kimono, straight from Kyoto.

Who? Who did you order this for?

- That harlot, Salomé. - From The Queen's Chamber?

He wasn't always from The Chamber.

He might think himself a fancy lady now,

but he used to work the street right around here.

A peacock doesn't catch a mate by wearing drab things, Margaret.

Peahens are plain and brown, Salomé.

It's only the male peacocks who feel the need to show off.

Well, that explains it, then.

How do you do it?

Afford all these handsome things?

Beg, borrow... steal.

Mr. Chow at the haberdashery lets me do a small favour

for a luxury or two.

I...

Someday I'll have fine things, too.

I'll find a way.

One half dollar...

for a knee-trembler up the alley.

Oh, sir...

couldn't we perhaps find somewhere a little more private?

No. It's this or nothing.

I'm expected at dinner.

This little peahen is shy about what goes up her alley and where.

But my alley's open at all hours...

and for all comers.

Okay.

Well... who says romance is dead?

Fuck me!

I just did.

Coins for the pretty little match girl, please?

I don't pay boys.

- Pardon me? - Pardon you.

Women hate it. That's why you gotta pay for pussy.

But you deviants? Oh, you love this shit. You should pay me.

- It's my job. It's how I eat. - Well...

if you want... you can always eat my cock again.

Fucking pay me my money right now.

I have to warn people not to buy your cream.

It's sour.

Wouldn't you like to eat your supper off those fresh, perky bosoms?

And then you could eat breakfast off that pert little derrière.

Hell, I would, and I don't even like playing with girls.

Price?

Don't be crass, Mr. MacDonald.

That little angel's love is beyond price.

These the ones she wore?

Oh.

How much?

I'm always open to offers.

Everyone out.

Photographs. Come, come, come.

We'll pick this up later.

I will always dance on that lap of yours, Mr. MacDonald.

Hello, King.

What's this little gathering, then?

Just a little post-show adulation.

The stage-door Johnnies simply love Salomé.

I know you wouldn't cut me out of any profits here.

Not under my own roof.

My darling, no.

You're not jealous, are you?

Are you?

- That copper's here to see you. - Oh... poo.

Do you own any Japanese silks?

You know, Detective, you don't have to come up with excuses to fondle my dainties.

Sometimes people just show up and tell me their urges,

and I satisfy them.

Amazing, no?