Episode One - YELLOW AMENDS - 10/04/12
9.
REID (CONT’D)
(to himself)
Come on, boy. And - Creighton’s phosphorous flashes going off behind him - he places his arms beneath the drapes and the body. Searches for strength. Lifts. And as he does, a pain (that we won’t understand yet) shoots through the left side of his torso and he grimaces, steals himself against it... EXT. FOLGATE - NIGHT 1/9 The COPPERS - still somehow holding back the crowd. But the MOB’S fever is intensified now by the sight of REID emerging from the courtyard, that burden in his arms. But here’s DRAKE - riding the Black Maria, whipping the horses through, driving the crowds aside to screams of objection. One DRUNK tries to clamber aboard, but a lash of DRAKE’S whip opens his cheek and sends him back into the scrum. DRAKE - jumping from the carriage, a concern on his face as he goes to him -- DRAKE Here, Mr. Reid. Give her to me. REID does just that. Watches as DRAKE effortlessly places the bundle of ex-human in the carriage. He breathes, extends his left shoulder. And now has to contend with -- BEST (O.S.) (a shout) A comment for The Star, Inspector! Is it him? Is it Jack? The crowd, hearing the name. The hysteria. The shouts of ‘Ripper!’ and ‘He’s back!’. REID - turning to the owner of that voice -- FREDERICK BEST - 30s, aspires to the dandy, though neither his looks or his ancestry are helpful in this matter. His thumbs jammed into the pockets of his yellow waistcoat, his mood is entirely at odds with the febrile mob. He could be at a Sunday fair. REID - an ugly look for BEST, then he ignores the man. Climbs up to join Drake. BEST - he hasn’t got as far as he has by being this easily dismissed. He pushes his way through the baying mob, shouts up to REID -- BEST (CONT’D) These citizens need their questions answered, Mr. Reid.
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