TURN: Washington's Spies

Previously on AMC's "Turn: Washington's Spies"...

Explain yourself, Captain.

We're hanging a traitor, sir.

Get out of my town.

I'm gonna come back to New York soon,

and when I do, be ready.

A woman stealing Major John André's heart.

Can you style me exactly like this?

Youth, Philomena.

André has been captured. I must flee.

Arnold's a traitor, sir.

The future of our cause lies in peril.

Do we have a man in the city... Robert Townsend?

Well, I'll find his spies,

and I'll drag them screaming to the gallows.

Hold up.

She was a beauty, eh?

Nah, she was a jack whore, that one.

A regular horse godmother.

Make your thing look like a noodle, with paws like that.

Petty Officer James Kilroy.

Hey, where are you taking him?

Come on, he hasn't done anything.

Where are you taking him?

- Where is he going? - Down at the wharf.

Back after lunch, Cato.

- Tommy. Good morning, Tommy. - Mr. Mulligan.

Five shillings for two inches?

It's highway robbery.

Honestly, I don't know why you buy space in that dishrag.

No one reads it. Our subscribers are double theirs.

Hugh Gaine is an old friend, James.

I'll do you a deal, Mulligan.

Stop all advertising in the "Mercury"

- and we will name you... - The official clothier

of his "Majesty's Royal Gazette."

- Good morning, Townsend. - Good morning, sir.

- Ale or sherry? - Sherry.

On the house.

May I show you the placement? Hmm?

- Near the masthead? - You wish to see it?

Drink your sherry. I'll be right back.

You look due for a new suit, Townsend.

We Quakers keep our dress plain.

We have little need

for "superfine cloths" of the most fabulous colors.

Bit much, eh?

Well, still...

to the right reader, sends the right message.

Just like your advertisement for, say,

French raspberry brandy?

You really should stop by. We have much to discuss.

I'm sure I don't know what you mean.

They said you'd be guarded.

Forgive me, who said?

We have friends in common, Robert.

And you have more friends

in this city than you may know.

Hercules Mulligan.

Good day, sir. I don't believe we've met.

Oh, I think you know who I am.

- I most certainly know who you are. - Ah, wonderful.

Stop by Queen Street, we'll take your measure.

You'll be coming with me now, sir,

to answer for your questionable contacts with the enemy.

- On what grounds do you harass me, sir? - General.

You will address me by my rank, tailor.

And where is your regiment, general?

Cross the Hudson wearing rebel blue?

Wandering where their commander scarpered off to?

He had it coming.

I know precisely who

and what you are.

Please, this is where we report the war, not wage it.

Print this!

By order of Lord Clinton,

I have been appointed Spy Hunter General,

and have been tasked to arrest hidden traitors to the Crown.

Their names will be made known,

and they will learn to fear mine.

Get up.

Please. Please continue.

Y AmirHunter Y

Adams, Little, Mulligan,

Beddows, Kilroy, Hunter.

Now, Beddows, Kilroy, and Hunter were all agents of Robert Howe,

who entrusted Arnold with their names

when he took advantage of West Point.

Howe didn't know Mulligan!

No one knew Mulligan except for us.

Arnold doesn't know Mulligan.

- His name is right there. - Yes, along with 40 others.

Arnold doesn't have the evidence for 40 men. He's grasping.

He failed to deliver them West Point,

and so he's putting on show, he's puffing out his chest.

- How can you be sure? - Because I...

Because he wrote to me.

"As I know you to be a man of sense,

I am conscious you are, by this time, fully of opinion

that the real interest and happiness of America

consists in a reunion with Great Britain.

I have taken a commission in the British Army

and invite you to join me

with as many men as you can bring over with you.

If you think it proper to embrace my offer

you shall have the same rank you now hold,

in the cavalry I am to raise."

If he knew Woodhull's name, or Townsend's,

then he surely would have boasted as much.

The Culper Ring is secure.

- His hunt has just begun. - He will be the hunted.

We will lure him out of the city and kill him.

No. I will not lower us to assassination.

He must be captured alive and returned to camp.

Sir, you wish to kid... to capture General Arnold from New York City?

We must make a public example of him.

I want a report on how this may be best achieved by week's end.

Leave the letter here.

Laundry. Two shillings.

Payday, you trulls.

Maybe I'll buy me a kettle.

Boil up some rat shit.

Save me seconds, love.

Hey, princess, you got kettles for sale or not?

Princess. She got spunk in her ear?

Save me seconds.

Yes, kettles are three shillings. I'll be right back.

If something's missing, I'll know.

Why look at me, eh?

Why look at me?

Hey!

Bitch.

Don't ruffle her feathers, Hest.

It's her cart.

Ever wonder how that is?

She didn't come to camp but five months ago,

and she weren't no peddler then.

Answer's right there.

Young Major Tallmadge.

You said she was yoked to some fat cull in Philadelphia.

Says the scuttlebutt.

But she don't act married, now does she?

You can't be certain they're safe.

No, I'm not certain, but there's nothing I can do that I haven't already done.

Oh, and you're not the only one

who's worried sick.

What's this?

I received a few unexpected letters this week,

that one is from Philadelphia, from Selah.

- You told him I'm here? - What?

No, no, he still thinks you're in Setauket serving as signal,

but with Arnold on a rampage rounding up spies,

he's fearing for your life.

He's demanding that I pull you out of there.

I have to write him back.

If he learns I'm in camp, he'll send for me. Or come for me.

And I won't be able to help with the ring.

Selah's my friend, I don't want to have to lie to him.

If you write that I'm safe,

and don't wish to risk more than that in a letter, it won't be a lie.

Your choice.

I'm more worried about Abe.

I know Washington wants him to stay where he is,

and you have to follow orders,

- but Abe doesn't. - Anna.

If a boat was to just show up...

Anna, I told you there's nothing I can do...

- No, but... -...that I haven't already done.

Caleb left for Setauket early this morning

in a boat with plenty of room.

He should be with Abe as we speak.

- Brewster? - Shh.

Is that Caleb Brewster?

I was right! What about that Arnold, eh?

- What a bastard he is. - Come here.

What are you doing?

- Someone's coming. - What?

Oh, no, it's just my father. Listen, listen.

We gotta work out a new way to signal,

a way for me to signal you without Townsend,

- Shh! - without anybody else involved.

Just shut your hole.

We have to go now.

All right? Where's Mary and Thomas?

Whitehall.

It's nearly lunch, she's probably going to be making...

- hey, you hungry? - What?

I mean, you smell like arse, but uh...

Ah, she'll be fine. Come on! Come on!

Where are you going?

- Who are you talking to? - It's Caleb Brewster!

He'll be joining us for lunch!

Come on.

Sugar?

Whiskey?

So...

I take it the lobsters have gone?

No, no, they're not gone.

Wakefield moved his billet to Strong Manor.

He threw up a stockade, he's calling it Fort St. George.