The Limehouse Golem Page #8

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You did it because

you knew what he was.

You did it because you were

in fear for your life.

I promise you'll have

the sympathy of the jury.

I don't want their sympathy.

Kildare:
Why do you not

deserve redemption?

Because you killed him

or because you believe

you created a monster?

What I deserve is

to live freely,

and in death be remembered

for my accomplishments,

not as the wife

who poisoned her husband,

my name forever tethered to his.

Man:
Mrs. cree.

While that chance remains,

i have no choice

but to cling to it.

Judge:
Have the jury

reached a verdict?

Yes, my lord.

Judge:
How do the jury

find the defendant?

Guilty.

Judge:
Order!

Order!

Elizabeth cree, you will be

returned to prison

and taken from there

to a place of execution,

where at 10:
00 tomorrow morning,

you will be hanged by the neck

until you are dead.

May the lord have mercy

on your soul.

Inspector kildare,

Scotland yard.

I need a moment with her,

please.

You don't deserve this.

It's done.

I hang tomorrow at 10:00.

No.

I won't let it happen.

John cree was a murderer.

I mean to prove it

and appeal for your pardon.

The world needs

to know the truth.

I'd like for you

to unmask the golem.

This is your moment,

your chance.

I'd like for you to have that.

I'm sorry, sir.

We need to leave.

Kildare:

We don't have much time.

The manuscript of "misery

junction" is handwritten.

Dan may still have it.

I shall stop this.

I promise you.

You filthy...

Here we are again!

Lizzie paid for the hire

of the theatre.

I advised her against it,

but she was adamant.

And it was not a success.

That's putting it mildly.

So put it any way that you will.

Dan:
Barely any tickets sold,

but Lizzie insisted

on a full house,

so she took to the streets

and gave them away to the poor.

Ah.

Aha! Here it is.

"Misery junction."

It's typeset.

Oh, I don't have the original

manuscript, I'm afraid.

A usual practice is

to have it archived,

unless the author asks

for it back, which he didn't.

Archived...Where?

Flood:
The librarian agreed

to open up early, sir.

He should be here any moment.

Kildare:
I pray he is.

They hang her at 10:00.

Woman:
Lizzie!

Lizzie!

Lizzie!

Lizzie.

I'm ready.

Rowley:

But this is most odd.

Should be here.

Could someone have withdrawn it?

Not unless they did so just now.

Kildare:
Quickly, the door.

Flood:
Sir!

Unhand me!

I've done nothing wrong.

Then perhaps you can tell us

why the hurry to obtain this?

I plan to rewrite it, sir.

Demand a production.

A topical shocker

about Lizzie cree.

Now she's to be hanged,

it'll be a smash.

Flood:
Really?

So you're a writer now,

are you, miss Ortega?

Aveline:

No, sir.

But it won't require much work.

It was the story of her life,

after all.

My idea is to begin

the play at the gallows,

then retrace each step

that led her to them.

I cannot help but think that the

addition of a murderous husband

might be popular.

I told you all I know, sir.

John is innocent.

Jesus!

You're the ones

who'll be forgotten!

Not me.

Lizzie:
Is it time?

There's no one here.

They hardly ever admit the

public these days, Mrs. cree.

Only for the most hated.

Please, no.

You must help me.

Please.

Please tell them to wait.

Inspector kildare is coming.

-I'm sorry.

Can't you go any faster?

Prison's just around the corner.

I know!

No, we must wait

for him, please.

This is wrong!

He will prove it!

I beg you, just a little longer!

I'm sorry.

Man:
Come on!

Man:
Coming through.

Guard:
Steady, sir.

Who are you here for?

-Kildare:
Elizabeth cree.

Say I'm not too late.

They're just taking her down.

Quick as you can.

Send for the magistrate!

Stop! Stop!

Don't thank me yet.

All they've given me

is an hour's grace

to speak to the magistrate.

I've still to convince him

to reduce your sentence.

Don't be glum.

You have the golem.

The world will know

the real story, and it's you --

you who will know every chapter,

who will tell it.

You have my gratitude.

Always.

And you mine.

Kildare:

Lizzie, Lizzie, don't.

Lizzie:

Could any believe John cree

capable of such deeds?

I guarantee it.

Have no doubt.

Then let us bring

this to an end.

Here's what you will write.

"I am Elizabeth cree,

and in September of this year,

I came to know that my husband

was the limehouse golem."

All you need to do

is tell the truth.

I have never told you anything

but the truth, kildare.

You shall have your moment,

and I mine.

In the temple of fame, our names

will be written side-by-side

in stone for all time.

Kildare:
Who was here

on September the 24th?

Rowley:
There were four men

in the reading room that day,

but there's no earthly way

of knowing

what anyone read

or when they read it.

Lizzie:
John. You're home.

I didn't hear you come in.

There were no questions asked,

no recriminations.

I believe a homemade punishment

may be planned for me instead.

I no longer feel safe

under my own roof.

I cannot go on like this.

Uncle:
Still, we had agreement

to keep each other's secrets.

And you didn't keep mine,

did you?

I wonder what I should do

with yours.

I think you should take it

to the grave.

Aah!

Annie:
Mr. Gerrard, sir?

Gerrard:
Annie?

Lizzie:
Oh, I know, I know.

Few would think a woman

capable of such artistry.

Gerrard:

Here we are again!

You were too late?

This, um...

This is probably the last thing

you want at present,

but they're waiting

for you downstairs.

You're about to be

the toast of London, John.

I know how much you cared

for her.

Just...

Know how grateful she would

be that the world

will know what her

bastard husband really was.

Not just as a murderer, but as

a man who sought to deny her

all she wanted to be.

It's you who saved her honor.

Her memory.

She would've wanted you

to have this.

Lizzie:
No! We must wait

for him. Please!

This is wrong, he will prove it!

I beg you, just a little longer!

I...

I don't believe inspector

kildare will be coming back.

I am not a poisoner.

I believe you.

I am so much more.

We shall be issuing

our full report on John cree

in an hour, gentlemen.

Well.

It seems the show must go on.

Londoners can sleep easy

in their beds again.

The golem is no more.

Evening post reporter:

Inspector! Inspector,

any comments

on your promotion, sir?

Executioner:

Any last words?

Here we are again!

Let us begin, my friends,

at the end.

N-not the green, love, the red.

Mother doesn't get sick

until scene four.

Did anyone check the safety?

Stagehand:

Take her weight. Take...

Woman:
What's going on?

Is she breathing?

We have to get back out there.

You're Lizzie's mother now.

I'll be Lizzie.

Lizzie!

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