Mrs. Hawking – the television pilot

Also available in downloadable PDF form.

FADE IN:

TEASER

EXT. LONDON TENEMENTS – EARLY EVENING

The fog rolls in from the Thames, as a big, rough man, JOHN COLCHESTER, leans in a doorway smoking a cigarette.

SUPER: London, England, 1880

He barks an order to another man, who takes his place at the door. Colchester moves off, leaving the other man to stand guard on the street.

A wiry creature in black crashes down from sky to strike the man to the ground. He gets off a strangled cry before the figure, slim as a whip and face concealed by a hood, subdues him with blows of vicious precision. A sleeper hold takes him to a heap on the ground. The figure slips past him into the building as a ship’s horn sounds in the distance.

EXT. PORT OF LONDON – EARLY EVENING

The gangplank extends down from a great passenger ship. People pour out of the hold, burdened with luggage. Families disembark huddled together, while others meet their loved ones waiting for them on the docks.  

Among all these emerges MARY STONE, a tall, working-class girl with dark hair and an earnest face, a little too broad and strong to be fashionable. There is no one to accompany or greet her, so alone she carries the bags with all her worldly possessions through her first steps in London.

INT. TENEMENT ROOM – early evening

Rain comes down as the hooded figure creeps through the wreckage of dark room. The furnishings are smashed and broken but much finer than the run-down building would suggest. Gloved fingers run over the baseboard trim, with its painted cherub motif.

A man’s voice can be heard outside the room, and the masked figure recedes into the shadows. Another ruffian enters, peering around, until the figure leaps out to lay him out with a storm of fierce blows.

The figure kneels to go through the thug’s pockets. The masked head bends over the discovery of a scrap of paper with a symbol on it.

INT. DOWNTOWN HOTEL – EARLY EVENING

Mary ducks through the low doorway of a shabby hotel room to find a narrow bed and a leaking roof. Sighing, Mary sets her luggage aside and drags over a side table. Climbing on to reach the ceiling, she wads up a cloth to stop the leak.

EXT. DOWNTOWN PUB – EARLY EVENING

The masked figure creeps along the rooftops of the tenements. The gloved hand holds out the paper to match it to the sign of a seedy pub on the street below.

INT. EMPLOYMENT AGENCY – DAY

Mary sits with her back straight in a row of other working girls, all a head shorter than her, in the waiting room of a placement agency. She stands when they call her name.

EXT. DOWNTOWN PUB – DAY

The figure stakes out the pub from the gables across the street.

INT. EMPLOYMENT AGENCY – DAY

Mary sits expectantly across the desk from the prim woman in charge, who regards her references skeptically. The woman hands back the letters with a shake of her head. Disappointment briefly flits across Mary’s face.

EXT. DOWNTOWN PUB – DAY

The figure waits impatiently on the roofs across from the pub, until at last John Colchester and his fellows emerge and make their way down the street. The figure leaps to grasp onto a drainpipe and slides back down to the ground. The figure waits in the shadows of the alley for a passing cab, then climbs up unnoticed to hitch a ride on the back.

EXT. STREET – DAY

Mary walks past a newsboy selling papers. She spots an oncoming carriage, about to crash through a puddle from the night before. Thinking quickly, she throws out her cloak as it passes, shielding herself and the boy from the splash. He looks up gratefully, offering a free paper in thanks.

Mary thumbs through the paper until she finds the advertisements.

INSERT: “WANTED: maid of all work in house of respectable widow. All inquiries to N. J. Hawking, at Hawking Capital on The Strand.”

EXT. DOWNTOWN PUB – DAY

The figure follows John Colchester as he goes about his business, climbing along the gutters and gables, tracking him from above.

EXT. STREET – DAY

Mary, dressed as nicely as she’s able, strides down the street, apprehensive and determined at once. Big Ben tolls the hour as she goes.

EXT. DOWNTOWN ROOFTOPS – DAY

At the sound of the bells, the figure in black abruptly stops the hunt and takes off in the opposite direction, running along the ledges and leaping from rooftop to rooftop. The bells chime out as Mary hurries along the streets below.

EXT. HAWKING RESIDENCE – DAY

Mary approaches the house at the address in her hand, a fine building but not well kept, with an overgrown rose bush climbing its way up the brick.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – DAY

NATHANIEL HAWKING, a pleasant, well-dressed gentleman in his twenties, waits reading a newspaper. He glances up as suddenly the final bell tolling in the distance is replaced by the ringing of the doorbell.

ACT ONE

INT. HAWKING DOORWAY – DAY

Nathaniel opens the door to Mary. His gaze jumps several inches when her eye level is higher than expected.

NATHANIEL
Ah, Miss Mary Stone, I presume.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – CONTINUOUS

Nathaniel leads Mary inside.

NATHANIEL
Nathaniel Hawking, very pleased to meet you. Your turning up in London may be the solution to our problem.

To Mary’s surprise, he takes her coat and waves her to a parlor chair. She sits, ill at ease with the courtesy.

MARY
I understand you advertised on behalf of a relative?

Mary’s surprise is compounded when he offers her a cup of tea. He indicates the portrait of THE COLONEL, a stern military officer over the mantle.

NATHANIEL
My aunt Victoria. She was the wife of my late uncle, the Colonel Reginald Prescott Hawking.

INT. HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS

An unseen onlooker approaches from the hall.

NATHANIEL
After my dear uncle’s passing, she dismissed all the staff. She’s a remarkable woman, I’m terribly fond of her, but… she has queer ideas at times.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – CONTINUOUS

NATHANIEL
Truly, more than the help, I think she could do with the company.

MRS. HAWKING
Is that the girl?

Startled, Nathaniel spins to see MRS. VICTORIA HAWKING appear just behind him. He stumbles backward to the ground.

MRS. HAWKING
How you suffer for me, Nathaniel.

Mary shoots from her chair to help him up in a well-practiced nurse’s carry.

NATHANIEL
Ah– thank you, miss. Mary Stone, may I introduce you to my dear aunt, Mrs. Victoria Hawking?

Mary curtsies. Mrs. Hawking paces around her, all intense eyes and hard edges swathed in elaborate widow’s dress. A petite blonde of forty, she barely comes to Mary’s chin, but her presence is towering.

MRS. HAWKING
So this is what you’ve brought me. Your given plain, meek young woman, new and friendless in London. I would not have left India for this dreary place, but I suppose there are circumstances that can’t be helped.

MARY
Yes, madam. I see you’ve been told something of my history.

Mrs. Hawking snatches the teacup Nathaniel made for himself out of his hands and drinks.

MRS. HAWKING
Only by your dress. India linen in October. Well, Nathaniel, at least this one can string two words together. Wherever did you find that last girl, a ward in Colney Hatch?

NATHANIEL
Aunt Victoria, please!

MRS. HAWKING
Very well, then. Tell me your accomplishments.

She drops into a chair as Mary hands over her references.

MARY
Accomplishments may be too strong a word, madam. But I have many years’ keeping house for my family—

MRS. HAWKING
Indeed, caring for a bedridden parent. Well, you’re not uneducated, and I see you have a strong back. Can you keep your own counsel and mind your own business?

MARY
I can, Mrs. Hawking.

MRS. HAWKING
And have you the good sense God gave you?

MARY
I very much hope so!

MRS. HAWKING
As do I. In light of that, I suppose I can stand to have you on.

She heaves herself up from the chair.

MARY
Thank you, madam! When shall I move in my things?

MRS. Hawking
Nathaniel! I said I did not want anyone in the house.

NATHANIEL
Auntie, may I remind you that you have chased all your other options off?

Mrs. Hawking seethes a moment, then stares at Mary hard.

MRS. HAWKING
Very well. You shall be tested straightaway, it seems.

NATHANIEL
How excellent! The Colonel would have wanted me to take care of you.

MRS. HAWKING
Bless him for that.

She storms out. Nathaniel turns to Mary, smiling a little too broadly.

NATHANIEL
She is a character! Compared to what she thought of the others, she seems quite taken with you.

Nathaniel softens at the stricken look on her face.

NATHANIEL
She’ll come round in time. She really is quite remarkable, but… she’s become so withdrawn of late. I worry if things go on. I think you may be precisely what she needs.

INT. SERVANT’S QUARTERS – DAY

The next morning, Mary carries her bags up into the attic servants’ quarters, with five empty beds and dressers in a lonely row. She sits down on one of the beds and sighs.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – DAY

Mary approaches Mrs. Hawking, who pores away over notes.

MARY
That’s everything settled in. I’m quite ready now.

Mrs. Hawking glances up to stare at her.

MARY
To learn my duties. If you’ll tell me what they are. I would very much like to make myself useful.

MRS. HAWKING
I shall be frank. I’ve no idea what to do with you.

Mary fights to keep her disappointment from her face.

INT. HAWKING HOUSE – DAY

BEGIN MONTAGE:

Mary does her best to keep herself busy, but her every effort seems unwelcome in the house.

She wanders through the forboding place with her rags and mop, taking in its subtle strangeness. A few rooms are ordered and spartan, devoid of any personal touch, but most seem entirely uninhabited, as if stuck in time, left under a layer of dust. She goes to open the door to the study, but Mrs. Hawking slips in ahead of her with a glare, slamming the door in her face.

Mary goes through practically bare kitchen cupboards in a struggle to pull together a meal. In the sink she finds a pile of rags soaking, marked with streaks of blood.  

Mary examines the few effects in the parlor, seeking some indication of who her strange employer is. On a shelf, a leather bound appointment book is a fraction out of place. She cannot help but open and read.

INSERT: Celeste Fairmont, 31 Haviland Street, Wednesday, 6 o’clock.

Mrs. Hawking snatches the book from her hands with a frown, but Mary looks so miserable that even she must take pity.

MRS. HAWKING
I like to take tea in the afternoons.

END MONTAGE.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – DAY

Mary lays tea for Mrs. Hawking, who nods mild approval.

MARY
Thank you, madam. It does a soul good to be useful, as my sister likes to say.

MRS. HAWKING
Your sister! You’ve family living? Then why upon your return did this sister not take you in? It was my understanding that was the done thing when it came to unmarried young women thrust suddenly into your predicament.

MARY
In truth… I didn’t fancy growing old as just Maiden Aunt Mary in some north country town. I’d rather make my own way of it.

Beat.

MARY
I’m sure you must think me dreadfully silly.

But the look Mrs. Hawking gives her says anything but.

INT. COLONEL’S STUDY – DAY

Mary goes in to find a collection of old flower arrangements, dried and crumbling with age. Each one has a condolence card for the Colonel’s funeral tucked inside.

As she clears them away, Mary notices the shelves of regimental photographs and medals for excellent service, forgotten beneath the dust. A vase of dead roses sheds petals on the desk. Then she comes across a service knife, clean and bright as the day it was made.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – DAY

As she tidies, Mary gazes up at the Colonel’s portrait. Mrs. Hawking enters and Mary decides to take a chance.

Mary
So this is your late husband?

By subtle degrees, Mrs. Hawking grows colder.

MRS. HAWKING
The Colonel Reginald Prescott Hawking? Yes.

MARY
Nathaniel speaks very highly of him. He must have been a great man.

Beat.

MRS. HAWKING
You must ask Nathaniel sometime. He does love to talk about his uncle.

MARY
I… I am sorry, madam. It must be painful to speak of him.

Mrs. Hawking considers her.

MRS. HAWKING
On one occasion we visited his brother’s house in the south country, I remarked on a fine red rosebush. It was… nothing, a meaningless murmur of idle conversation. But for me, he dug up that bush with his own hands, carried it back on his lap, and planted in the garden behind the house. Because he could not see that I do not care one whit about rosebushes.

Mrs. Hawking exits. Mary looks back at the mantelpiece. The wood is covered with gouges and cuts.

INT. HALLWAY – DAY

Mary carries a stack of linens as Mrs. Hawking shows a posh woman, CELESTE FAIRMONT, to the parlor. When Mrs. Hawking notices her, she casts a sharp look and closes the door.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – NIGHT

Later that night, a banging sound draws Mary to rush into the parlor and looks around. She is surprised to find the room still and empty, except for one window, opened a crack and creaking on its hinges. Mary looks around in confusion, then looks at the time on the grandfather clock.

EXT. DOWNTOWN – NIGHT

The stillness of the London night is broken with a crash. From the alleyway the masked figure in black barrels out with a gang of ruffians chasing. The men make a grab, but the slim black specter spins with a roundhouse kick, knocking one assailant back. Another strikes out with a knife, but the figure twists, taking a graze to the abdomen before slashing the man with their own blade. The figure bounds from an ashcan to scale a nearby wall and race down the rooftops. From the ground the men rally in pursuit.

INT. FAIRMONT PARLOR – NIGHT

Celeste Fairmont, prim and proper, waits fitfully in her home. The sound of her own doorbell makes her jump, but having sent the servants out, she rises to answer it.

INT. FAIRMONT ENTRYWAY – NIGHT

She gasps when she sees it is Mary.

MARY
Mrs. Celeste Fairmont? Forgive the intrusion at this hour, but I’ve recently come into the employ of Mrs. Victoria Hawking.

MRS. FAIRMONT
Mrs. Hawking sent you?

MARY
Ah— not as such. But madam didn’t come home this evening, and according to her appointment book, she was engaged to see you.

MRS. FAIRMONT
I, ah, I cannot precisely say—

Voices and footsteps crash from outside.

EXT. FAIRMONT HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

The ruffians storm onto the street, yelling as they search.

INT. FAIRMONT ENTRYWAY – CONTINUOUS

Mary and Mrs. Fairmont stare out the front until the window in the parlor begins to rattle.

INT. FAIRMONT PARLOR – NIGHT

A dark figure pries the window open and begins to climb in. Mrs. Fairmont cries out as Mary rushes to seize hold of the poker at the fireplace. So armed, she throws herself between Mrs. Fairmont and the intruder. The masked figure in black drops to the floor.

MARY
Stop! Stop right there!

The figure is bent to one side in pain, but straightens to pull down the hood. A braid of familiar blonde tumbles out.

MRS. HAWKING
Mary?

MARY
Mrs. Hawking!?

END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO

Mrs. Hawking runs past a stunned Mary to peer out the front window.

MRS. HAWKING
Blast, they’re here!

MRS. FAIRMONT
What are we to—?

They freeze at a hard thumping at the door. Mrs. Hawking ducks into a cupboard, leaving the others to gape. Mrs. Fairmont looks to Mary in terror as the thumping continues. At last Mary opens the door to John Colchester.

COLCHESTER
There’s a dangerous person about. We was after them just now but it seems they’ve disappeared. You haven’t seen nothing?

He pushes past Mary into the house, looking around.

MARY
I’m sure we’ve no idea.

INT. CUPBOARD – CONTINUOUS

As Colchester draws near, Mrs. Hawking readies a knife in the darkened cupboard.

COLCHESTER
What are you all doing up and about at this hour?

MARY
We were disturbed by the noise in the wee hours of the morning!

INT. FAIRMONT PARLOR – NIGHT
Mary throws open the front door.

MARY
Now I must insist that you leave. You have frightened Mrs. Fairmont quite enough.

Colchester looks around once more, then nods.

COLCHESTER
Right, then. Good evening to you… ladies.

Mary slams the door behind him. Mrs. Hawking emerges from the cabinet as the men can be heard clearing off outside.

MRS. HAWKING
That was quite splendid of you, Mary.

MARY
Mrs. Hawking! This is— this is— when you didn’t return last night—

MRS. FAIRMONT
Never mind that! Did you find the culprits? Who are they?

Mrs. HAWKING
Despite that rabble, this is not simply the work of an alley gang. I expect there shall soon be a pageboy with a rather serious letter for you.

MRS. FAIRMONT
Why?

MRS. HAWKING
Because someone means to blackmail you.

Mrs. Fairmont gasps.

MRS. HAWKING
We must discuss, Mrs. Fairmont, just what it is you’ve done.

INT. FAIRMONT PARLOR – NIGHT

Mrs. Fairmont huddles over a teacup as Mrs. Hawking paces.

MRS. HAWKING
This is quite serious, madam. I believe it to be the work of Lord Cedric Brockton.

MRS. FAIRMONT
The undersecretary to the minister? But he’s a well-born, prominent man! Why, he’s hosting the queen’s ball in celebration of the new Afghan victory!

INT. PARLIAMENT – DAY

Lord Cedric Brockton, a sharp, well-mannered older man, attends an assembly. As a vote is cast, he regards an MP with a sly, knowing look.

MRS. HAWKING (V.O.)
Outwardly, yes, but he is one of the most dangerous blackmailers in Europe. His network of spies and operatives gather for him the dangerous and shameful secrets of the most powerful personages in the country, and he exacts a heavy price to keep them concealed.

The man hesitates, then casts his vote. Brockton smiles.

INT. FAIRMONT PARLOR – NIGHT

MRS. FAIRMONT
Heaven help me.

MRS. HAWKING
I investigated the rooms you rented in my tracing of those men. There was no mistaking the cherub trim, nor the nursery furnishings.

MRS. FAIRMONT
You promised me you would not pry!

MRS. HAWKING
Circumstances have changed! I know this man, Celeste. If I am to help you against him, I must understand what it is at stake. Brockton’s men broke in looking for what you’ve been hiding. Tell me who it was, Mrs. Fairmont, that they were looking for.

Mrs. Fairmont wrestles with it, then relents.

MRS. FAIRMONT
Not looking for. They found him. They found my son, my Gabriel. They’ve stolen away my boy.

Mrs. Hawking tenses at this. Mary gasps.

MARY
Why in God’s name would they take your child?

MRS. HAWKING
For the same reason, I would imagine, that you should keep him in rented rooms and may visit him only on occasion.

MRS. FAIRMONT
I was young. I made a mistake. And when Gabriel was born, my father sent him to some dreadful workhouse. I would never do anything to compromise our good names, you must understand that. But… I could not leave my boy there.

MARY
Were the police of no assistance?

MRS. FAIRMONT
I could not go to the police! Our reputation, Jacob’s career would be at stake! But I had heard… whispers… from society ladies, their washerwomen, women of all standings… that when a lady finds herself in a predicament, there is someone… someone who can take extraordinary action to help.

Mary gapes, then stares at Mrs. Hawking.

MRS. HAWKING
This world offers so little recourse to women when its presses become too great. Someone must step outside all of that to do what’s necessary.

She turns to Mrs. Fairmont.

MRS. HAWKING
This shall not be a simple operation, madam. But I will do everything that is in my power to see you through.

Mrs. Fairmont embraces her in desperate gratitude. Mrs. Hawking winces and tenses her wounded side.

MRS. FAIRMONT
Oh, my goodness, you’re hurt! We should— we should send for someone.

MRS. HAWKING
No doctors, Celeste!

Mrs. Hawking pushes away, but Mary steps forward surely.

MARY
Please— allow me.

INT. FAIRMONT bATHROOM – NIGHT

Mary tends to the slice on Mrs. Hawking’s abdomen, marveling at her lean corded frame rippled with old wounds.

MARY
You have… so many scars. Does this happen… often? In this work that you do?

MRS. HAWKING
On occasion. You may count how often.

MARY
And… what do you do? If you will not see a doctor?

MRS. HAWKING
I manage well enough on my own.

MARY
But… you’ve no other assistance? Is there no one trustworthy?

MRS. HAWKING
I cannot chance it. Discovery by the wrong person could mean the end of everything.

MARY
I think you make a great mistake in that.

MRS. HAWKING
You are out of turn, Miss Stone! It is an easy thing to say when you need not fear your blasted husband putting a stop to you for what he thinks is your own good.

MARY
He never knew? In twenty years of marriage?

MRS. HAWKING
One can hide anything from anyone if one so chooses.

MARY
You couldn’t hide it from me.

Mrs. Hawking stares at her hard. Mrs. Fairmont returns with linen and alcohol. Mary soaks the cloth.

MARY
There will be pain, madam.

MRS. HAWKING
I have no fear of that.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – DAY

The next day, Mary lays the tea as Mrs. Hawking enters.

MRS. HAWKING
No more of this nonsense, now. I’d have your intentions, if you please.

MARY
Forgive me, my intentions?

MRS. HAWKING
You know my business now. And this is not something I’ll allow to come out. So enough of this. What do you want from me, Mary?

MARY
Madam… I want to help.

Mrs. Hawking stares.

MARY
Madam, what you do… it’s the best thing I ever heard anyone do. I heard what Mrs. Fairmont said. Not just for the society ladies. For the washerwomen and the scullery maids and the house girls, poor women precisely like me, who have nowhere else to turn.

MRS. HAWKING
Money makes little difference; all we women are caught.

Beat.

MRS. HAWKING
You’ve no idea how dangerous it is.

MARY
I can be brave if the circumstance calls for it.

MRS. HAWKING
So I’ve seen. But it’s more than that. What I do… is unacceptable in the eyes of society. If such effort should fail, or so much as be discovered… I assure you, we shall come to envy the painted birds in parlor cages. And any hope of decent reputation shall be dashed forever.

MARY
Madam… I have lived a respectable life. For all my years, I did nothing except keep house for my father, and care for my unwell mother. And when they passed, and I had nothing more left… I realized how little that was. How little that was to make a life.

Beat.

MARY
And there’s no money or place in the world that fixes your child taken from you. What you’re doing for these people… more than anything, that means something. And that is what I would like to do.

MRS. HAWKING
I am accustomed to working alone.

MARY
As I said before. Everyone has need of help sometime. I can be brave, and I have a strong back and the good sense God gave me. Please… let me help you.

MRS. HAWKING
Good heavens. I must be losing my mind.

Beat.

MRS. HAWKING
God help us. All right, brave girl. All right.

END OF ACT TWO

ACT THREE

INT. MRS HAWKING’S STUDY – DAY

Mary follows Mrs. Hawking eagerly into her personal study. The girl’s eyes go wide at the sight of it, covered over with the maps, books, notes, weapons, and gear of her work.

MRS. HAWKING
For the case at present, we must consider how best to overcome the varied challenges presented by Mrs. Fairmont’s predicament.

She opens a case of slim silver knives and holds one up.

MRS. HAWKING
Challenge the first—

MARY
The safety of the child.

MRS. HAWKING
Correct. To rescue the boy from the villain’s clutches.
She throws the knife to stick in a well-worn spot on the wall. Mary thrills as she she raises another.

MRS. HAWKING
Challenge the second—

MARY
The security of her reputation.

MRS. HAWKING
—To prevent the child’s existence from reaching the public.

She hurls the second knife beside the first.

MRS. HAWKING
And finally, challenge the third…

Mary furrows her brow in thought, then shakes her head.

MRS. HAWKING
That would be the villain himself. Lord Cedric Brockton conceals the traces of his enterprise as well as any man I’ve tangled with.

The third knife flies into the wall. As Mary inspects them, Mrs. Hawking takes out her sewing kit to fix the cut in her stealth suit from the fight.

MRS. HAWKING
I’ve returned a missing child or two in my time, but in this my usual methods have not served. My thought had been to trace his lackeys back to where they were keeping the boy, but I’ve been trailing them for days and seen no sign.

Mary lights up with an idea.

MARY
Madam… if I may suggest… what was it that Mrs. Fairmont said, about Lord Brockton hosting a ball?

MRS. HAWKING
Yes, some society nonsense in celebration of yet another victory for the Empire.

MARY
Perhaps that’s the place to gather intelligence.

MRS. HAWKING
By attending this ball? But it shall be choked with people then.

MARY
It’s a way into his house! There might be something useful to discover there!

MRS. HAWKING
Surely he is not keeping the boy in his own house.

MARY
No, but there may be something, something he wishes to keep close in his own den.

MRS. HAWKING
Hm. There is logic to it.

She casts aside her sewing and stands.

MARY
So you shall go?

MRS. HAWKING
I shall. Now, we must prepare, and we haven’t much time.

INT. DUCAL HOUSE – DAY

MRS. HAWKING (V.O.)
I have been out of the roar of things for some time now, but I daresay the Hawking name can still secure an invitation.

In a magnificent house, a butler assists the grandly attired duchess with her correspondence beside a vase of red roses. He regards a letter in snobbish skepticism, until the lady reads the name of Victoria Hawking. She snatches it from his hands and hurries off to attend to it.

MRS. HAWKING (V.O.)
And there are those that owe me a favor or two.

INT. DRESS PARLOR – DAY

Grand ladies are fitted by dressmakers in an upscale shop.

MRS. HAWKING (V.O.)
And we shall have to see about acquiring you a suitable gown.

MARY (V.O.)
A gown? For me? I… I may come along with you?

MRS. HAWKING (V.O.)
It was your plan, Miss Stone.

As Mary enters the couturiers stare her down, until she hands over Mrs. Hawking’s card. They sweep her past the ladies to measure and drape her with fabric.

INT. CARRIAGE – NIGHT

They ride in the darkened coach to the ball.

MARY
Do you really believe I shall manage at an affair for high society?

MRS. HAWKING
You shall quickly learn, child, in this trade you must master the art of disguising yourself as something you are not. For you, it shall be as high society. For me, it shall be as a creature that can bear to spend the evening in whalebone stays. Besides, when it comes to facades one must put on, society is a common one. I imagine you shall manage it no worse than most.

The carriage pulls up, and they begin to disembark.

INT. BROCKTON’S BALLROOM – NIGHT

The grandly decorated ballroom at Lord Brockton’s London home is full of society guests in elegant attire. Mary walks among them uncertainly in a beautiful blue ball gown. At last Mrs. Hawking stalks in, a panther reluctantly draped in black evening dress. She walks past Mary to address her over her shoulder.

MRS. HAWKING
There you are. I’ve observed the lay of the house, and there is a locked study on the second floor where a valet stands guard. If Brockton keeps secrets in this house, we’ll find them in there.

Mary keeps glancing uncomfortably behind her.

MRS. HAWKING
Are you quite all right?

MARY
That gentleman there is staring at me. Can he tell I don’t belong?

MRS. HAWKING
I imagine, Miss Stone, it is because we have dressed you in entirely too becoming a gown. Fortunately, I have been able to turn this distasteful consequence to our advantage.

MARY
What do you mean?

MRS. HAWKING
I may have given them the impression you were a niece of the viceroy of India, sent home to escape a scandal with a prominent soldier.

MARY
Me? But I am no— why?

MRS. HAWKING
Brockton is a blackmailer, Mary. He is always interested in persons with secrets. While he sounds you out for his wicked purpose, I shall take advantage of his distraction.

MARY
I don’t know how to act like the niece of the viceroy! He’ll see right through me!

MRS. HAWKING
See that he doesn’t. You were raised in India, make use of your experience!

MARY
But madam— very well.

Mrs. Hawking nods, pleased, and walks off. Mary frets for a moment, then works to get into character, attempting to affect whatever it is look like a viceroy’s niece.

INT. BROCKTON’S SECOND FLOOR – NIGHT

Mrs. Hawking observes Brockton’s valet hovering about the study door. She bumps into another guest and drops her handbag before backing off apologetically. As she kneels to collect it, she removes a spool of very fine wire and strings it across the top stair.

INT. BROCKTON’S BALLROOM – NIGHT

Mary is startled out of her rehearsal when Lord Brockton appears at her shoulder.

LORD BROCKTON
I don’t believe we’ve met.

MARY
(posh accent)
O-oh? Ought we to?

LORD BROCKTON
Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Cedric Brockton and I would like to personally welcome you to my party.

MARY
Oh, this is your house? It’s— it’s a dear little place!

LORD BROCKTON
You must know, miss, everyone is buzzing about you and yet no one seems to know your name.

MARY
Ah… my uncle calls me… Tigerlily!

INT. BROCKTON’S SECOND FLOOR – EVENING

Mrs. Hawking watches as a woman going down the stairs trips spectacularly on her wire trap. At her cry, the valet abandons his post to help her. In the commotion, Mrs. Hawking approaches the study door, sliding fine little lockpicking tools out of her sleeve.

INT. BROCKTON’S BALLROOM – EVENING

LORD BROCKTON
You must find London so very dull by comparison.

MARY
Good heavens, you’ve no idea! Why, back home, if I so chose, I could ride to finishing school on the back of an elephant!

LORD BROCKTON
My goodness! Whatever could draw you away from all that?

MARY
Oh, well, you know how things are! Uncle dear thought I was becoming too popular with some of his, well…

LORD BROCKTON
Soldiers, miss?

MARY
My lord! What sort of lady do you take me for? Fraternizing with enlisted men?

Beat.

MARY
They were all officers!

They laugh uproariously, Mary delighted that she’s pulling it off. Over his shoulder she spies Mrs. Hawking returning.

MARY
Oh, but I’ve said too much, Uncle John would be furious with me! Please excuse me, Lord Cedric! Lovely party you’ve thrown!

She all but runs away. Brockton turns, beaming, until he spots the approach of Mrs. Hawking.

LORD BROCKTON
Why, fancy that. You’re in attendance this evening.

Mrs. Hawking tenses, but turns to face him.

MRS. HAWKING
You know me, sir?

LORD BROCKTON
I am certainly aware of Mrs. Colonel Reginald Prescott Hawking. It’s been some time since you’ve made an appearance in society. 

MRS. HAWKING
Haven’t you heard? My husband died, I’ve been in mourning.

LORD BROCKTON
To be sure. Still, it is, then, remarkable that you should develop associations with no fewer than three ladies with whom I’ve had business in the last several years.

Beat.

LORD BROCKTON
I make a point of observing such things, Mrs. Hawking. Particularly when there is a discernable pattern of the enterprise in question going awry. When such things occur, I take pains to discover why.

MRS. HAWKING
Perhaps you have made a wrong move.

LORD BROCKTON
Perhaps you have, madam. For your own wellbeing, I advise you to make no more.

He bows and smiles at her pleasantly.

LORD BROCKTON
I am glad to have finally made your acquaintance. Do enjoy the rest of the party.

END OF ACT THREE

ACT FOUR

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – night

Mrs. Hawking broods and paces, her gown partially disassembled. Mary rushes in through the front door.

MARY
Oh, madam! That was— oh, how grand that was! I’ve never been so carried off!

MRS. HAWKING
Mary—

MARY
When Lord Brockton came over, I thought I would faint! But I didn’t, I managed it, I can hardly believe myself!

MRS. HAWKING
Mary, please! Brockton spoke to me just before we left. He suspects.

Mary gets a hold of herself at this.

MRS. HAWKING
Regrettably, he is more observant than most of our adversaries. We must find some intelligence we may hold over him, to force him to keep his silence. 

MARY
That sounds difficult. But we can’t leave poor Gabriel in that man’s clutches!

MRS. HAWKING
Better off as Mrs. Fairmont may be.

MARY
Madam! How can you say such a thing?

MRS. HAWKING
She is trapped into the obligation of motherhood, and yet risks destroying herself to fulfill it.

MARY
What else can she do? She loves him.

MRS. HAWKING
Of course, of course. 

MARY
You did find something that could help, didn’t you?

Mrs. Hawking grins.

INT. MrS. HAWKING’S STUDY – NIGHT

Mary examines a note on fancy watermarked stationary.

MRS. HAWKING
The note was unsigned and the envelope bore no postmark, but the text spoke very frankly of someone agreeing to secret away the child as a condition of Brockton’s continued silence. I have no doubt he has imposed upon another of his victims to hide the boy away.

MARY
But it doesn’t say who this man is, or where he’s keeping Gabriel.

MRS. HAWKING
Unfortunately, no. That we shall have to determine by another means.

Mrs. Hawking takes the page to study.

MRS. HAWKING
See here. The language is that of an educated man… and contains several noteworthy turns of phrase, such as… “…which I should say is far aboon the call of my debt…” and “…for the concealment of a cobby boy…” which are very distinctly of the Yorkshire dialect. So it is safe to say the writer is a man of some background, raised in the county.

MARY
That’s astounding!

MRS. HAWKING
A trifle. Now, as for the paper… it is very fine, certainly expensive…

She holds it up to the gaslamp to show the watermark.

MRS. HAWKING
And this watermark… I’ve seen it before. This is the stationary of the Bombay Club.

MARY
What is the Bombay Club?

MRS. HAWKING
It is a social club for distinguished soldiers of the empire. The Colonel belonged to it, and my nephew does in his honor. It is the sort of place where such men escape to in order to congratulate one another for their victories over savages armed with darts and spears.

MARY
Why, what luck! If Mr. Hawking belongs as well, perhaps he can help!

MRS. HAWKING
Certainly not! Nathaniel would only stand in our way and behave as if it were for our own good.

MARY
Perhaps if we explained to him–

MRS. HAWKING
Mary, it is out of the question. No man will brook a challenge to his comfortable order of things. You will learn this too in time.

Mary looks down as Mrs. Hawking considers.

MRS. HAWKING
Regardless, the club seems to be our best lead at present. We shall have to investigate for any members with a background in Yorkshire.

She begins gathering up her equipment. She takes up the knife Mary saw on the shelf in the Colonel’s study.

MRS. HAWKING
The Colonel’s old service knife. Leaving it was one of the few useful things he ever did for me. Women are not permitted as guests, of course, but we’ll disguise you as one of the maids. As long as you keep your head down, no one should trouble over you. 

MARY
And what of you?

She pulls on her stealth hood.

MRS. HAWKING
I do not intend to be seen at all.

MARY
Oh, my. Madam… does this mean you’re pleased with me?

MRS. HAWKING
I am. As another set of wits and another pair of hands, you acquitted yourself… quite well.

Mary glows.

MARY
As I said. It does a soul good to be useful.

The two continue their preparations.

INT. BOMBAY CLUB DINING ROOM – NIGHT

Wealthy men in white tie finish up in the dining room. As footmen serve at table, maids carry dishes and prepare rooms. Mary works among in their black and white dress, ears and eyes open. She glances around for Mrs. Hawking, who is nowhere to be seen, until a rustle behind a curtain reveals her lurking nearby.

One gentleman, SIR WALTER GRAINGER, is tense and distracted over his plate. A friend beside him leans over. 

GENTLEMAN
What’s got you this evening? Not much can put you off your beef. 

SIR WALTER
(Yorkshire accent)
Leave it for now. There’s precious little for it. 

He pushes back from the table and stands. Mary circles around the room near Mrs. Hawking’s hiding place and nods subtly as she passes.

INT. BOMBAY CLUB SITTING ROOM – NIGHT

Mary waits nervously for Grainger, startling when Mrs. Hawking emerges from her hiding place beneath a sideboard.

MARY
Madam, he’s coming!

MRS. HAWKING
Then I’ll be quick. I shall continue observing until I learn his identity.

MARY
But from where?

Mrs. Hawking wedges the service knife into the moulding around the fireplace. She steps up onto the handle and climbs to the mantle to the mounted rhinocerous head all the way up into the rafters.

MRS. HAWKING
I have found to my advantage people seldom look up.

Voices and footsteps can be heard just outside the door.

MRS. HAWKING
Mary, the knife!

Mary wrenches it out of the wood just as the door pushes open. In desperation she stashes it in the cushions of a high-backed chair. She drops down pretending to scrub the floor as Sir Walter enters, followed by Cedric Brockton.

SIR WALTER
I’ve had quite enough, sirrah. I’ve paid you your money, I’ve hidden your documents, I’ve secreted away your stolen boy! Do you mean to bleed me dry?

LORD BROCKTON
A few pounds and favor or two are a small price to pay to harbor mistakes like yours, my lord.

SIR WALTER
Now you dog me to my club! I’ve had near enough of your poison.
Mary crawls behind a sofa on the far side of the room.

LORD BROCKTON
You’ll drink it up and more before I’m through. Unless you want the peerage to know what sort of man Sir Walter Grainger truly is.

Sir Walter leans in fiercely a moment, before stalking off in submission.

LORD BROCKTON
So I thought, my lord.

Sir Walter drops down in the chair and discovers the knife.

LORD BROCKTON
What’s that doing here?

SIR WALTER
I know this knife. It belonged to the Colonel. Old Colonel Reginald Hawking.

LORD BROCKTON
Hawking!

INT. RAFTERS – CONTINUOUS

Mrs. Hawking tenses in her perch above.

INT. BOMBAY CLUB SITTING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

Mary cringes from her hiding place. She casts about in desperation, until at last Nathaniel wanders in to her side of the room. She spring up suddenly behind the sofa.

MARY
(urgent whisper)
Mr. Hawking!

Startled, he turns to her. He has a red rose in his lapel.

NATHANIEL
Mary? What the devil are you- good lord, did Aunt Victoria fire you?

MARY
Never mind that! You must take Lord Brockton from the room! It’s your aunt, he must not find her here!

NATHANIEL
What? But how could she-?

MARY
There’s no time! Take them from the room, and get back that knife!
She spins Nathaniel and shoves him toward the men. He does his best to rally.

NATHANIEL
What ho, gentlemen, I was… hoping I might interest everyone in a game of cards. I think we’re a large enough company for a decent rubber.

Sir Walter, glad for the escape, rises with his brandy, but Brockton raises his walking stick to stop him.

LORD BROCKTON
Forgive me, Sir Walter, but- Hawking, did you say?

Nathaniel intercepts the question and steps between them.

NATHANIEL
Ah— yes, I did, my lord! Nathaniel Hawking’s the name— the late Colonel’s my uncle. My good graces! You found Uncle’s service blade! Oh, I’m ever so grateful. I would have been most distraught if I’d lost it for good.

Brockton hands it over, hackles lowering.

LORD BROCKTON
Of course, sir. I ask because I recently had the pleasure of meeting of the late Colonel’s wife.

NATHANIEL
Oh, did you? Ah- how is the old girl? Doesn’t go out much, I hear, since my uncle passed. She’s quite lost in the world without him.

Nathaniel leads the way to the door. Mary drops back down to scrub the floor in hopes of hiding her face, but Brockton looks right through her.

LORD BROCKTON
Out of the way, girl.

Another maid comes in to clean up. Mary hurries to help, but Mrs. Hawking leaps down right behind the maid and drops her with a blow to the back of the head.

MRS. HAWKING
Oh, blast it!

MARY
My God!

Mrs. Hawking wheels on her.

MRS. HAWKING
Calm yourself, she’ll wake. What have you done? I told you, you were not expose our work to anyone! Least of all Nathaniel!

Nathaniel bursts back in.

NATHANIEL
Brockton’s occupied with the other gentlemen. Aunt Victoria! What is the meaning of all this? Why- why on earth are you dressed this way?

MRS. HAWKING
Nathaniel, do not speak a word more! Mary, make your escape, we have what we came for. I shall deal with you at home.

She pulls her mask back down and sneaks out the window. Nathaniel looks to Mary in shock.

INT. MRS. HAWKING’S STUDY – NIGHT

Mary pours Nathaniel a brandy as he gapes in shock at all the tools and weapons in Mrs. Hawking’s study, the Colonel’s knife still in his hand. Mary picks up his rose corsage from where it lies on the desk.

NATHANIEL
Surely, Mary, surely this must all be a joke!

MARY
I promise you, sir, it’s all true.

NATHANIEL
But— it’s madness! Breaking into buildings! Knives and bullets! Games of cat and mouse with… society blackmailers! 

He takes a slug, choking as Mrs. Hawking storms in, rage mounting at the sight of them in there.

NATHANIEL
Good lord, you’re here! Madam, I— madam, I hardly know what to say!

MRS. HAWKING
Then say nothing, Nathaniel.

NATHANIEL
Am I to understand that you have been- going out on these… ventures… for some time now?

MRS. HAWKING
Since before you wore trousers.

She snatches the knife out of his hand and strides out. Nathaniel and Mary follow her.

INT. HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS

NATHANIEL
Madam! Have you lost your mind!? What in the world possessed you?

MRS. HAWKING
If you cannot see that, then I cannot explain.

NATHANIEL
Whatever did Uncle think of all this?

MRS. HAWKING
I did not trouble for your uncle’s approval any more than I do yours. 

NATHANIEL
No. No, this won’t do at all. Aunt Victoria, I must lay down the law on— I must insist that you put an immediate stop to all this madness.

Mrs. Hawking stops short.

MRS. HAWKING
What did you say?

NATHANIEL
I must insist. I forbid you to continue in this business.

MRS. HAWKING
You forbid me? You forbid me? You dare to interfere in that which you so little understand!?

NATHANIEL
The Colonel would want—

MRS. HAWKING
Nathaniel! Do not speak again of what the Colonel would want!

Beat.

NATHANIEL
Very well. We’ll- we’ll speak of this later. When you’re feeling better.

Nathaniel steps past her. He dithers a moment, casting about for some way make it all right.

NATHANIEL
Good evening, dear aunt.

But she says nothing. He exits. At the sound of the door, Mrs. Hawking snarls and storms into the parlor, with Mary chasing after.

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – CONTINUOUS

MARY
We’ll speak to him. We’ll make him understand—

Mrs. Hawking whirls on her.

MRS. HAWKING
How dare you!? Over the course of years I have worked to carry this delicate operation upon which so many desperate people depend. And you see fit upon just a few days’ experience to place it all in jeopardy!

Mary cringes under the force of her rage.

MRS. HAWKING
But I suppose I should have expected no more; you are an ignorant child, and I was a fool to bring you into this. Leave me now, I can no longer bear to look at you.

Mary begins to slink off, then stops and turns back.

MARY
No. No, madam. What would you have done!? If I hadn’t been there— if I hadn’t asked Mr. Hawking to cover your tracks— what would you have done?

MRS. HAWKING
I have managed my endeavors for years before a house girl deigned to lend her expertise! And I protected the information from my fool of nephew and the husband that lived in this house until you revealed everything! This would have been no different.

MARY
But it is different! You said it yourself, Cedric Brockton is a more formidable opponent than you’ve faced before. You could have lost everything!

MRS. HAWKING
I will yet if Nathaniel has his way.

MARY
Madam, he saved you! He cares for you!

She waves Nathaniel’s corsage. Mrs. Hawking glares daggers.

MRS. HAWKING
His uncle cared for me too, and he would have kept me like a bird in a cage. Oh, our men all care for us, our nephews and husbands and fathers. As your father did, Mary, and mine, so far as they can keep us under their power.

She spins the service knife and stabs it down into the mantel.

MRS. HAWKING
Well, that for their care! When my father had no thought for me, I was left to do as I pleased! It was when he had a care that he sold me to the Colonel whether I would or no! All that mattered was that I was of use. Tell me, Mary, was your father any different?

Mary says nothing.

MRS. HAWKING
Of course not. They’re all of a kind. If you place your trust in them, they will betray you, until we are faithful dogs and pliant sheep.

MARY
I have been a servant in other peoples’ houses all my life! You think you need explain that to me?

MRS. HAWKING
I will permit that of no one! Neither foolish women nor beastly men!

MARY
Is that the sum of it, then? The women are fools and the men are beasts? Why risk so much for people if you think so little of them?

MRS. HAWKING
Your forget yourself, Miss Stone.

MARY
You do God’s work when you give help to those in need, but how can you save them if you don’t think them worth saving? I hear the contempt in you for even Mrs. Fairmont as she fears for her husband and her son.

MRS. HAWKING
She wouldn’t require saving if it weren’t for that man, and that boy!

MARY
That boy is the child of her body- and you won’t even speak his name. It’s Gabriel!

MRS. HAWKING
I know his name!

MARY
The souls in question matter, madam, yours as well. This cannot only be your vengeance. For the sake of those you save, and for your own sake, it must be more than that.

MRS. HAWKING
Do not presume to judge me, girl. It is not your place.

MARY
And yet this must mean something better! If that is outside my place, madam, then I’ve no more use for my place than you do for yours.

Mrs. Hawking stares at her intensely. Shocked at her own passion, Mary quickly curtsies, then hurries from the room.

END OF ACT FOUR

ACT FIVE

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – nIGHt

The next evening, Mary frets alone in the parlor. The bell rings and she lets in a sheepish Nathaniel.

NATHANIEL
Hello, Mary. Is my aunt at home… and do you think she’ll see me?

MARY
Oh, goodness, no! I mean, she’s not at home. I haven’t seen her since last night.

Nathaniel looks away, ashamed, and Mary takes a chance.

MARY
Mr. Hawking… forgive me for saying so, but… you don’t know what it’s like, sir. You who have a decent family, and a little money, and everyone’s always listened to what you have to say. Without that… someone like Mrs. Hawking could be the only hope one has.

NATHANIEL
Truly? She… saves people? My God. All this time, I’d no idea. And… the Colonel had no idea.

MARY
She feared he would have stopped her.

Nathaniel finds his rose corsage from the night before.

NATHANIEL
As I tried to. Oh, Mary. You must understand… Uncle Reginald meant a great deal to me. That meant, when he passed, that I’d try to step into his shoes and be the one to look after things.

He notices the service knife still sunk into the mantelpiece. He frees it with effort.

NATHANIEL
And he loved my aunt, Mary, he only meant to take care of her.

MARY
Whatever your uncle meant… she’s become so angry. Angry at all the world. Even the child she’s set out to rescue. Poor little Gabriel. She will not utter his name.

NATHANIEL
Indeed? Oh, heavens.

Mary looks at him. He shifts uncomfortably.

NATHANIEL
Well… that was what Uncle Reginald wanted to name their boy.

MARY
Their boy? They- they had a child?

NATHANIEL
Ah- not quite so. Poor little fellow was stillborn. It happened many years ago, I was just a boy myself. At any rate, where is she?

MARY
I don’t know! I’m afraid she’s gone to Sir Walter’s home on her own.

NATHANIEL
Oh, no. If Lord Brockton is as dangerous as you say, why-

MARY
Oh, if only we knew… oh!

INT. MRS. HAWKING’S STUDY – NIGHT

The two of them pore over Mrs. Hawking’s appointment book.

MARY
My God, she did, she wrote a note! “Grainger estate… bring Mrs. F…”

NATHANIEL
What does that mean?

MARY
It means we must hire a hansom straightaway. There’s no time to lose!

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – DAY

Nathaniel follows as Mary runs in to grab the poker from beside the fireplace.

NATHANIEL
But wait! He’s a powerful man! What can we do against the likes of him?

MARY
Nathaniel. The Colonel would want you to be brave.

INT. GRAINGER ESTATE – NIGHT

The fine old country house is empty but for Brockton’s men patrolling, with the lord himself overseeing like the spider at the center of the web.

Mrs. Hawking creeps in the shadows in her stealth suit, observing their patterns, gauging their strength. She cuts each man off from his fellows, taking them out one by one.

INT. GRAINGER STUDY – NIGHT

Sir Walter sits smoking in the dark, near shaking with nerves. Mrs. Hawking materializes from the darkness, and he leaps out of his chair in shock.

SIR WALTER
Good lord! Who are you!?

MRS. HAWKING
Never mind that. Where is the boy? Do you have him?

SIR WALTER
It wasn’t my doing, Brockton forced me to it! He threatened to ruin me unless I kept the child for him. But that is all I know of the matter, he’s told me nothing else!

MRS. HAWKING
The child, he’s here in the house?

SIR WALTER
Yes, there was no time to move him.

MRS. HAWKING
Move him? Why?

SIR WALTER
Don’t you see? Brockton knew you were coming. He’s snicked you in his trap! When they realize you’re here, they’ll kill you— whoever you are.

MRS. HAWKING
I shall handle his lordship and his men. But there is not much time, Sir Walter. Find yourself a pen and paper, if you wish to free yourself from Brockton’s grasp.

INT. GRAINGER ESTATE – NIGHT

Brockton paces like a caged tiger as Colchester bursts in.

COLCHESTER
Lordship, he’s here! He just tried to get at the boy’s room but we ran him off!

LORD BROCKTON
Who is it?

COLCHESTER
Can’t rightly tell, sir, he’s wearing a mask. But he’s lightning quick, and I’d stake me life he’s the same body what was tracking us the other day!

LORD BROCKTON
Whoever it is, catch him! I want that intruder found! Take your men and go!

INT. GRAINGER ESTATE – NIGHT

As Mrs. Hawking drops down another guard, footsteps can be heard hurrying down the hall. She drags the body back and moves into the shadows, knife at the ready- until Mary enters with her poker. Mrs. Hawking steps out to meet her.

MARY
Madam! Thank heaven it’s you!

MRS. HAWKING
Mary! You found me.

MARY
I would have come with you. If you’d asked.

MRS. HAWKING
Sometimes it is useful to have reinforcements your enemy does not expect. And… I owe you more than orders. But for now, did you follow my instructions?

MARY
Yes, madam. Nathaniel! She’s here!

Nathaniel ushers in Mrs. Fairmont.

MRS. HAWKING
You brought Nathaniel.

NATHANIEL
Only to help, Auntie, I swear it.

She glares at him, until he offers her the Colonel’s knife. At last she takes it.  

MRS. HAWKING
Very well, then. We may as well make use of you.

She presses a folded piece of paper into his hands.

MRS. HAWKING
Here. Read this with care and carry it out exactly as written. Can you do this for me?

NATHANIEL
Yes, I’ll be at it forthwith.

MARY
Good man. Good luck, Nathaniel!

NATHANIEL
To you as well.

They clasp hands, then Nathaniel dashes off.

MARY
But I don’t understand why you wanted Mrs. Fairmont here.

MRS. HAWKING
Because you were right about other things as well, Mary. Mrs. Fairmont, your child is at hand.

MRS. FAIRMONT
Oh, thank God! May I see him? Will you take me to him?

MRS. HAWKING
Madam, I must ask you to be very brave. You must go in and retrieve your son.

MRS. FAIRMONT
Me? But Brockton’s men are everywhere!

MRS. HAWKING
Miss Stone and I will deal with them. But someone must retrieve the child. He is in the chamber at the end of the east wing, waiting only for you to go and rescue him.

MRS. FAIRMONT
I can’t!

MRS. HAWKING
You can, Celeste. That is your boy in there… that is your Gabriel. You can do this for Gabriel.

Mrs. Fairmont gathers her courage, clutching Mrs. Hawking’s hands tightly.

INT. GRAINGER ESTATE – NIGHT

Mary and Mrs. Hawking hunt through the darkened halls.

MARY
Madam, Nathaniel told me about… about your boy. Your Gabriel.

Mrs. Hawking stops in her tracks.

MARY
Madam, I— forgive me.

MRS. HAWKING
I told you Nathaniel could not keep his mouth shut.

Beat.

MRS. HAWKING
You called it my vengeance, Mary, but perhaps I can be forgiven for it. I was not meant for the lot of women… and certainly not that part of it. I must have wished a thousand times for it to just… begone. Like some burrowing beast from the hollow of a rotted-out tree. But then, when it was… well, I had not wanted that. But I suppose that was the way of it. My nature did not fit into any part of life with the Colonel.

MARY
Was he very bad to you?

MRS. HAWKING
That man would have done anything in the world for me except for what I wanted. Him and his damned red rosebush.

They can hear the men patrolling beyond the door at the end of the hall.

MRS. HAWKING
They’ll do. Mary, if you wish to leave, it must be now.

MARY
Not a chance, madam.

Mrs. Hawking kicks the door open. They burst out of the hallway and lay into the men.

INT. GRAINGER HALLWAY – NIGHT

Mrs. Fairmont hurries through the darkness, the sounds of battle in the distance. A guard rushes by to join in, but she presses herself into the shadows and he passes unheeding. With a gasp she pushes onward.

INT. GRAINGER ESTATE – NIGHT

Mrs. Hawking takes out man after man with an athletic show of martial arts. Mary pounds away at them with her poker.

INT. GRAINGER HALLWAY – NIGHT

Lord Brockton runs from room to room, searching for his men. He is horrified to find them lying in battered heaps where Mrs. Hawking left them.

INT. EAST WING ROOM – NIGHT

Mrs. Fairmont comes to the last door at the end of the east wing. Finding it locked, she kicks at it until it breaks open. Her son Gabriel, cheeks red with tears, cries out in joy as he collapses into her arms.

INT. GRAINGER ESTATE – NIGHT

Mrs. Hawking takes out their final attacker, and she pulls down her hood and turns to Mary in triumph. Then Lord Brockton bursts in, brandishing a gun.

LORD BROCKTON
Stand down!

They turn to face him, and Brockton is genuinely shocked.

LORD BROCKTON
My God. Victoria Hawking? You yourself? I knew you had a hand in this somehow, but that you came yourself… you must be even madder than I thought.

Colchester stumbles in.

COLCHESTER
It’s the boy, boss, he’s gone!

LORD BROCKTON
What!?

He whirls on Mrs. Hawking.

LORD BROCKTON
How!? What did you do!?

MRS. HAWKING
What I set out to do, sir, returned the boy to the arms of his mother where he belongs.

LORD BROCKTON
Go now, you dolt, find him! Stop him before he escapes!

Colchester scrambles out. 

LORD BROCKTON
It’s no matter anyway! I still know Celeste Fairmont’s secret. Even without the boy, I can still ruin her. And you, now that I know what you are up to as well!

NATHANIEL
I wouldn’t try that, if I were you.

He strides in, a packet of papers in his hand.

LORD BROCKTON
What? Nathaniel Hawking, isn’t it? Have you and your whole blasted family gone mad?

MRS. HAWKING
Nathaniel has been of some assistance to me. It seems he’s found some secrets of yours as well.

LORD BROCKTON
What are you talking about?

NATHANIEL
You rely too much upon the fear you instill in your victims, Lord Brockton. You should not have entrusted such information to one who hates you as Sir Walter Grainger does.

LORD BROCKTON
Grainger is in my power!

NATHANIEL
No longer, my lord. He’s given me the documents you ordered him to keep. Bits and pieces of the evidence you held over the heads of London society. And what do you think they’ll do once you no longer have that particular club to wield?
Brockton swings the gun wildly between him and Mrs. Hawking.

LORD BROCKTON
I’ll— I’ll ruin that idiot Grainger. I’ll ruin all of you!

NATHANIEL
You do and we’ll see you’re brought down with us.
Nathaniel advances on him as Brockton shakes the gun.

LORD BROCKTON
People know you, Hawking, you have position and a family in this city! Does your reputation mean so little to you? You would risk your own good name for this madwoman?

NATHANIEL
That is exactly what I would do, my lord. Will you risk yours?
Beat. With a cry he spins toward Mrs. Hawking again, but she is on him in a flash, snatching the gun from his hand.

MRS. HAWKING
That’s enough, Cedric. We’ll be going now.
Nathaniel and Mary turn to leave. Mrs. Hawking follows.

LORD BROCKTON
No! No, blast you, you couldn’t! You’re just a woman!

MRS. HAWKING
And you, just a man.

END OF ACT FIVE

TAG:

INT. HAWKING PARLOR – NIGHT

Mary pours tea as Mrs. Hawking slouches in a parlor chair and Nathaniel leans against the fireplace.

MARY
I’ve received a note from Mrs. Fairmont. Gabriel is restored to her, and they are home safe and sound.

NATHANIEL
Ah, thank God. That was… a wonderful thing you did there. I owe you an apology, Aunt Victoria.

MRS. HAWKING
As much as I owe you a debt of thanks, for what you’ve done this day. I shall consider us even if you shall.
She stands and holds out her hand. He takes it in his.

NATHANIEL
I always knew you were a remarkable woman… I only didn’t know how.

MRS. HAWKING
Nathaniel… the Colonel would have been proud of you.

Nathaniel cannot help but beam.

NATHANIEL
Well. I should be on my way home now. Good evening, ladies.
He bows, then exits through the front door.

MRS. HAWKING
I do owe Nathaniel a great deal of thanks. He brought you to me, Mary.
The bell rings. Mary goes to answer it, leading in GRACE MONROE, a working-class woman with a quick, anxious air.

GRACE
Begging your pardon, is this the house of Mrs. Victoria Hawking?

MARY
It is. Who may I say is calling?

GRACE
Grace Monroe, miss. Please, I’ve just got to see the lady.

MRS. HAWKING
I am she. What brings you here, Miss Monroe?

GRACE
Oh, madam, I’ve heard all about you. How you help women in rough spots. I’m in a proper one now, and I ain’t got nowhere else to turn.

MRS. HAWKING
Indeed, Miss Monroe. Please, have a seat, and tell us what the trouble is.
Mrs. Hawking gestures to a chair, and Grace thrills at the hospitality. She sits, then casts a nervous glance at Mary.

GRACE
Thank you kindly, madam. If I might ask, who might this be with you?

MRS. HAWKING
This is Miss Mary Stone. My assistant. You may trust her as you would me.
Mary smiles. She sits beside Grace and lays a hand on hers.

MARY
Please, Miss Monroe. I’m certain we shall be able to help you.

FADE OUT.