Oliver Twist Page #5

by japanning my trotter-cases.

In plain English, clean my boots.

What a pity he ain't a prig.

He don't know what's good for him.

I suppose you don't know

what a prig is.

Yes, I do. It's a....

It's a thief.

You're one, aren't you?

Yes, I am. And so we all are.

Down to the dog...

...and he's the downiest one

of the lot.

And the least given to peaching.

He wouldn't so much as bark

in a witness box...

-...for fear of committing himself.

-He's an out-and-out Christian, he is.

Why don't you put yourself

under Fagin, Oliver?

You'll make a fortune out of hand.

Like your old gentleman

in Pentonville. Big house, that.

I had a peep at it, I did.

Nice inside, was it?

Yes. And I slept in a proper bed.

In my own room.

-Good stuff on the walls, eh?

-Yes. Indeed.

Put yourself under Fagin...

...and you'll be able to retire

to a property just like that.

And do the genteel.

No, he's scared

he'll come to be scragged.

I don't know what that means.

If you don't take pocket handkerchiefs

and watches, Nolly...

...some other cove will. You have

the same right to them as they have.

To be sure. To be sure.

It all lies in a nutshell, my dear,

in a nutshell.

Take the Dodger's word for it.

He understands the catechism

of his trade.

Cabby?

-I've come from Bill.

-For what?

-For no harm.

-I don't believe it.

If I could help you, I would,

but I've not the power.

Now, I've promised him

you'll be good and silent.

If you're not, you'll only do

yourself harm.

And me too.

Did he come quiet?

Like a lamb.

Sit down.

And let me read you a lecture.

You know what this is?

-Yes.

-Well, then.

This is powder.

That here's a bullet.

And this is a little bit

of an old hat...

...for wadding.

-Now it's loaded.

-Yes, I can see it is, sir.

If you speak a word

when you're out of doors with me...

...unless I speak to you...

...this loading will go in your head

without notice.

So if you do make up your mind

to speak without leave...

...says your prayers first.

The short and long of what you mean

is that if you're crossed by him...

...you'll prevent him

from telling tales after...

...by shooting him through the head.

And you'll take your chance

of swinging for it.

That's it. Women always put things

in the fewest words.

Supper, Nancy.

And then a snooze afore starting.

My pal Bill.

The door's open, come in.

Don't make such a row.

Show us a glim, Toby.

Barney, a glim.

Show the gentleman in.

Barney?

Wake up first, if convenient.

Mr. Sykes. Come in, sir, come in.

Bill, my boy. Glad to see you.

Who's...?

-Who's this?

-Only the boy.

-One of Mr. Fagin's lads?

-Yeah. It's time.

Right.

Barkers for me, Barney.

-They're loaded.

-Good.

-The persuaders?

-Got them.

Keys, center bits.

Darkies.

Nothing forgotten?

Yeah, it's all quiet.

I can't. I can't.

You will.

It's Mr. Brownlow's house.

Have mercy.

Don't make me steal from him.

-Have mercy on me.

-Come here.

For God's sake, let me run away

and die in the fields.

-I'll never come near London, never.

-Shut it.

Get up. Or I'll strew your brains

on the grass.

I'm putting you through there.

Go to the front door

and unfasten it.

I can't, there's a bolt at the top.

I know it, I can't reach it.

-Well, stand on a chair or something.

-Just do it.

To the door.

To the front door, damn you.

Who's there?

Mrs. Bedwin? Is that you?

Come here. Come here.

Save me! Save me!

Save me, for God's sake!

Help!

Help! Police!

Give him here.

Oh, damnation, how he bleeds.

-ls he hit bad?

-He's gotta be hit worse.

-Give me a pistol.

-What?

We gotta get rid of him,

or he'll squeal.

We gotta do him in.

Here, here. Down here by the river.

But, Bill! Bill!

-Bill?

-Help!

Help! Help!

-Bill.

-Help!

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Well, well.

How are you, Fagey?

Scarce. Scarce!

Where's Bill?

-He's-- He's bleeding.

-What happened?

All in good time.

I can't talk business

till I've ate and drank.

Nancy, I said, scarce. Scarce!

Where's Bill?

Well, produce the sustenance,

if you please.

Dodger!

Nancy, scarce!

-The crack failed.

-I smelt that.

For the last time of asking,

where's Bill?

Dodger.

Put him to bed,

give him a nip of gin.

The boy was about to blow on us,

Fagey.

-He was seen.

-Seen?

He was seen? Who saw him?

Two old ones.

He shouted out.

Bill lost his head,

fired his pistol....

-And hit the boy?

-I don't know. There was two shots.

Only one was Bill's.

We made a run for it.

I had ahold of the boy, and Bill fell.

Fell? Was he hurt?

No. Last seen, he was swimming

to London.

Bullseye.

I told you not to bring a soul here.

Now you've brought the devil.

You said to fetch him.

His fever is that high,

he don't remember nothing.

You're not well, are you, Bill?

How do you feel today?

I'm as weak as water.

Get us a drink.

-What evil wind has blowed you here?

-No evil wind, my dear.

You, Bill, you.

You said we need to speak.

What you done with that boy?

Where is he?

Safe and sound.

The Dodger's minding him.

They're as close as Cain and Abel.

What about the boy, Bill?

We don't want anyone

peaching on us, do we?

And as long as that boy's alive,

we're as good as hung.

So, what's to be done?

-Nothing.

-Nothing?

-Not till I'm better.

-Then what?

-Then I'll do for him.

-How, Bill? Where?

Outside of London somewhere.

I'll find a river and I'll drown him.

The boy's weak.

Bill, he was wounded.

He can hardly stand, let alone walk.

When he can walk, tell me.

I'll fetch him.

Now, get out of here.

Yes.

Yes.

Bill, you're right.

It's for the best.

I'm burning up.

Give me me physic.

Where's me physic?

You look like a corpse

come back to life again.

-What's the matter?

-Nothing.

What do you look at me so hard for?

-What you thinking of?

-Of many things, Bill.

-What odds in that?

-I'll tell you what it is.

If you haven't caught the fever...

...then there's something

more than usual in the wind.

And something dangerous too.

Give me me physic, I say.

No, no, no.

There ain't a stauncher-hearted

girl going...

...or I'd have cut her throat

three months ago.

She's got a fever coming on.

That's it.

Here. Make you feel better.

Sit aside me.

Put on your own face, or I'll alter it

so you won't know it again.

-Wait.

-Ma'am.

-Yes?

-Does Mr. Brownlow live here?

Who are you? What do you want?

Go around the back.

I have information

about Oliver Twist.

Is he all right? Is he safe?

-Where is he?

-I will only talk to Mr. Brownlow.

He's not here.

The boy's innocent, tell him that.

-Where is he?

-Safe.

-But he may not be for long.

-Where is he?

Give Mr. Brownlow a message.

Tell him to meet me on Sunday

at midnight...

-...on London Bridge.

-Midnight?

And if I'm not there...

...then tell him to come the next night

and the next. I'll be there. Tell him.

There, my dear,

you look as good as new.

-How do you feel?

-Tired, sir.

Well, yes, yes.

It is long after midnight.

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