All language subtitles for Miss.Scarlet.and.the.Duke.S04E06.1080p.PBS.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-WoKE

I'm going to New York.

For a year?

This isn't goodbye--
it's goodbye for now.

You're taking over
from Inspector Wellington?

Just needs to be rubber-stamped.

If we give Phelps the credit,

it could seal his promotion.

If you are to run this agency,

you must, first and foremost,
be a businesswoman.

I will not be returning to Paris
until you convince me

you understand this.

It's not my fault!

All this is your fault!

Fine, it's my fault!

Are you sure
this is the way out?

Not remotely.

I thought you said
you'd been here before.

No, I said I'd ridden
past it in a carriage.

What is this place?

A good place for
a wanted man to hide.

What is this powder?

It's everywhere.
They used to make some kind

of chemical here,
I can't remember what.

Is it toxic?

That may be the least
of our worries.

I'm fairly sure we lost him.

Really? I'm not.

Neither am I.

Will that lock
from the inside?

I thought you'd drugged him.

I did, but he's rather large.

It may take some time
to have an effect.

Clothing, that was it.

They used to dye
clothes here.

There's an interesting
story about that...

You're absolutely sure

you gave him
that laudanum?

How many times?
Yes, I'm sure.

Eliza!

It's not an exact science--
I didn't want to kill him.

Don't worry.

I used to box
for County Wicklow.

Well, is that
a high standard, or...

Yes, it's a high standard!

Good work.

Thank you, gentlemen, thank you.

But we must also thank Mr. Nash.

He and I apprehended
the fugitive together.

That said, we only found him

thanks to your hard work.

And, not only is this

the highest-paid case we've had

since I took charge, but it is
also the highest-profile.

As such, I am pleased to say
that even more new clients

have engaged our services.

This, in addition
to the other cases

we're currently working,
will mean

longer days and longer hours,
but it will also mean overtime.

Oh.

We're going to be busier

than ever, gentlemen.

Thank you once again.

All of you.

- Well done, Miss Scarlet.
- Well done!

It's been our
strongest quarter yet.

Eight payments
of completion,

six engagements
of service,

and that's not
including the three

that came in this morning.

The men you've hired
are working well.

Yeah, are the overtime payments
strictly necessary?

Well, it's good
for morale.

And you did say
that we could afford it.

We can, just.

He was never this generous
with me.

I believe you've cured
our Mr. Scrooge.

Or perhaps you were visited

by the ghosts of
three dead accountants.

Ho-ho.

Any other business?

Yes.

I've decided to return to Paris

at the end of the week.

Well, you will, of course,
be missed, Patrick,

but I appreciate
the show of faith.

I'll make your
travel arrangements.

I assume it must be
first-class, as-- correct.
You assume correctly.

You look tired.

Thank you for that.
I'm not surprised.

You've been working
seven days a week

for the last couple of months.

You need to take
the afternoon off.

I have too much work.

Nonsense.

You need some fun.

And I have just the ticket.

Get your things--
we're going to the races.

The races?

Horses--
if we leave now,

we'll get to Epsom
for the 2:00 steeplechase.

No-- I don't like gambling.

You are the most natural
gambler I've ever met.

And what's the point
in earning money

if you can't lose it?

So, it's a bad thing.

I didn't say it was a bad thing,

I just said it wasn't good.

Forgive the pedantry,

but what's the difference?

A bad thing is
when you know

for certain it's bad,
you have proof.

But if something is not good,
it means it might be bad,

but you don't know
for sure-- yet.

Right, that makes sense--
I think.

And with Duke gone for
the best part of two months now,

it's not good they haven't said
who's covering for him.

And the word is,
they're looking at someone

from outside the department
like that posh boy,

Hudson,
from the Irish Branch.

You don't think
it'll be Hudson, do you?

God knows-- all I know is,

they ain't given me the nod.

I knew I should've
joined the Masons.

Assault with a deadly weapon,
retrieval of stolen goods,

and failure to answer
a court summons.

And I don't know if you can
charge him with this,

but he smells like
a cesspit in summer.

You heard anything about
that skipper's job from Daddy?

I do wish people would cease
to ask me about my father.

No, he has not
spoken on it.

In truth, we rarely talk.

There you go, sir.

This Hudson thing is
probably just a rumor.

Well, rumor or not,
it's bloody frustrating.

Maybe they just
don't like you.

Shut your mouth, you--
come with me!

Oliver.

Father, I, I wasn't aware
you were coming in today.

Is there somewhere
we can talk?

Thank you.

You like this place?

Well, it's a little rough
around the edges, but I do.

We tend to come here
after a shift.

Well...

I'll make it brief.

While Inspector Wellington
is in New York,

we need a suitable candidate
to carry on his duties.

We are yet to find
said candidate.

Well, Detective Phelps
was just saying...

No, I said a
suitable candidate.

That does not mean Phelps.

But he acted up the last time
Inspector Wellington was away.

Oh, that was for a few days--
this is for a year.

Besides, the job
is political now.

Budget reviews, presentations
to the Home Office.

Can you imagine
a man like Phelps

dealing with government
ministers?

Mmm.

No, I want someone
who understands the game.

The right man
for the job.

We offered it to Hudson
in Irish Branch,

but he turned it down.

As did four--
no, five others.

No one wants it.

This damned expansion has turned
the job into a poisoned chalice.

Which is why
I'm considering you.

Me?

We have not always seen
eye to eye.

And, in truth,
there have been times

when I would have gladly
set you adrift.

However, of late,

my opinion has begun to change.

Has it?

I've followed your progress.

It seems that you have
some aptitude

for detective work.

Thank you, Father.

You always lacked ambition,

even as a child.

Nevertheless, this could be
a golden opportunity for you,

and I urge you to seize it
with both hands.

I have given orders
that you are to lead

the next murder investigation
that comes in.

Show me you've got
what it takes.

We'll talk again.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Whoa.

Well, I call it beginner's luck.

It wasn't luck.

I read today's copy of "Sporting
Life" and studied the form.

Racing is about gut instinct
and spontaneity.

Where's the fun
in studying the form?

Oh, I think it's
right here.

Miss Scarlet,

Mr. Nash--
how was the racing?

Successful.

For some of us.

You know, nobody likes
a gloater.

Nobody likes a loser.

Right, well, um, this arrived
for you shortly after you left.

And the contracts have come
through for the Harrison case.

If you'd be so good
as to sign.

There are two copies:
here and here.

Everything all right,
Mr. Nash?

Just ignore him--
he's in a sulk.

And...

Patrick?

Heavenly Father,

bless these gifts,

which we receive
from thy bountiful goodness.

Deprive us not of thy kingdom,

but grant that we may feast
in fellowship with thee,

for now, and forevermore.

And we give thanks

for thy overflowing
generosity,

and endeavor to be truly worthy

of thy kindness.

Amen.

Amen.
Amen.

Apologies, Mr. Potts.

I'm a little out of practice
when it comes to saying grace.

Well, I've always believed

a simple blessing gives a
moment's pause after a long day.

Oh, that's so lovely, Barnabus.

You're so good with words.

Hmm, it's hard not to be
when you are my muse.

Um, have you heard from
Inspector Wellington recently?

Yes.

I received a letter from him
this morning.

He's moved into lodgings
near the police precinct

and seems to be
settling in well.

I plan to write back to him
after dinner.

Ooh! If you do...

I have a rather amusing anecdote

you might wish to include
in your correspondence.

About the methanol we received
at the mortuary.

You remember,
I told you about it?

Perhaps you can tell him
yourself on his return.

Oh, no, no, no.

A tale this hilarious
cannot wait.

I'm not sure
I'd call it hilarious.

You said it was the funniest
story you'd ever heard.

It was how you told it
to me, Barnabus.

My fear is that Lizzie
may not do it justice

by writing it down.

I'll get that.

It was very funny.

Oh.

Detective Fitzroy.

To what do I owe this pleasure?
May I come in?

It is a somewhat
delicate matter.

Of course.

I'm looking for Mr. Nash, but
I've been unable to locate him.

I was hoping
he might be here?

I'm afraid not.

Is it something
I could help with?

There's been a murder.

The victim was stabbed
several times in a street

in Aldgate.

Oh.

Do you wish
to engage our services?

Mr. Nash is wanted in connection
with the murder.

I have a warrant
for his arrest.

What's she doing here?

I invited Miss Scarlet
to the scene.

She may be able
to shed some light

on the relationship
between the victim and Mr. Nash.

What did you say
his name was?

We're not entirely sure.

But we know he was in
a public house in the area.

The landlord only knew him
by his first name, Eamonn.

And what does this have
to do with Mr. Nash?

He was in the same pub,
asking about this Eamonn fella.

The landlord recognized Nash.

Apparently, he's a regular.

He was in what was described
as an agitated state.

A few minutes later, he was
seen stood over the body

before running off.

Defense wounds on the arms.

Several shallow cuts
to the torso.

It would appear
the fatal blow

was directly
through the heart.

Thank God you came,
Miss Scarlet.

We never would've
worked that out.

I've never seen

this man before.
Right, off you go, then.

Detective Phelps.

I would remind you

that I am the officer in
charge of this investigation.

Yeah?

And why is that, I wonder?

Orders from Daddy.

Has Mr. Nash

ever mentioned the name
Eamonn before?

Her boss is a suspect.

Talk about conflict
of interest.

Patrick Nash is many things,
but he's not a murderer.

Maybe not.

But he was looking for someone
right before they were killed,

and he was seen
by their dead body,

and then he disappeared.

He hasn't disappeared.

He's not at home,
he's not at work,

or any of his usual haunts.

So, where is he, then?

I asked the men.

No one's seen Mr. Nash

since he left the office
yesterday.

And this, uh, and the
telegram he received,

you didn't see what it said?
No.

It did seem to greatly
alter his mood.

Hmm, indeed, it did.

Ah.

The police have no surname
or address for the dead man.

They think his Christian name
is Eamonn?

Does that mean anything
to you?

That is a difficult question
to answer.

In what way?

Because you're my superior,
and I do not wish to lie to you.

Then don't.

Yes, but Mr. Nash owns
the company, and I,

I do not wish to betray
his confidence.

If he is charged with murder,

then we will both
be out of a job.

Well, when you put it that way.

As you know, we have a number
of paid informants on our books.

I make all
these payments myself,

with the exception of
a gentleman named Eamonn Murray.

What is he paid for?

Mr. Nash told me not to inquire,
in the most forceful terms.

Well, do you have an address
for him, at least?

As I say, Mr. Nash
told me not to inquire.

You're a cautious man, Clarence.

You trust no one with
the finances, not even Mr. Nash.

I find it hard to believe

that you haven't made it
your business

to find out who this man is.

I swear, I do not know
who he is.

But I may have once
paid a cab driver

to tell me where
he took Mr. Nash.

And as such, well,

I may have his address.

You've had a wasted journey,
Detective Fitzroy.

We are running most dreadfully
behind schedule,

and the postmortem has yet
to be carried out.

I was told you would have
the coroner's report by now.

I'm afraid Mr. Wormsley's
been called away

to the Stepney Mortuary
on a multiple drowning.

Things are still
in a state of flux.

We are understaffed
in many key areas,

including that of
forensic examination.

When will he be back?

Not for a number of hours.

I've checked
the records office

for Eamonn Murray,
he's got no previous.

Never even been arrested.

Anything from the postmortem?

They've not done it yet.

I was just explaining
to Detective Fitzroy

that there will be a delay
on the said report,

the fault of which
should not be laid at our door.

Perhaps you could have a word
with the police commissioner

about the disarray
Scotland Yard's expansion

has besieged upon us.

Why would I do that?

Well, he's your father,
after all.

Careful, Mr. Potts.

He don't like talking
about Daddy.

The fact he is my father
is quite separate

to my professional relationship
with him

as an officer of the law.

Really?

Now, there's a good one-- in
fact, it's quite cheered me up.

Apologies,
I meant no offense.

Detective Phelps, while we
wait for the said report,

I could give you
a few observations...
You will address me,

Mr. Potts, not Detective Phelps!

I am leading
this investigation.

Again, apologies.

Then I'll give you my opinion.

As far as I am aware,

you have no medical
qualifications, whatsoever.

You are, in fact, a clerk.

So, I would appreciate

if you kept your opinions
to yourself.

Let me know when this postmortem
has been carried out

immediately.

He's a sensitive soul.

Indeed.

Clarence.

I do this only because
I am concerned for Mr. Nash.

Do what?

Betray his confidence.

I've made further inquiries.

There is one other person
that Mr. Nash pays money to,

as with Eamonn Murray.

And that is?

I should not be doing this
voluntarily.

Perhaps if you could threaten me
in some way?

Very well.

Clarence,

I will dismiss you immediately

unless you give me the
information you've discovered.

That's very good.

Yeah, uh, once a month,
Mr. Nash makes a payment

to a lady named Margaret Farrel,
and that is all I know.

Apart from her address,
which you will now give me.

Good afternoon,
I, I wonder if you could help.

I'm looking for Margaret Farrel.

So am I, darling.

You're a private detective?

I am.

And your wife may be able to
help me locate a missing person.

Can I get you a drink?

No, thank you.

Will Mrs. Farrel be back soon?

I don't know
when she'll be back.

So, who is this missing person?

Uh, a business associate
of mine.

A Mr. Patrick Nash.

This makes sense now.

You know him?

I'm a fisherman.

Away on the boats
most of the time.

The nosey old cow next door
told me about someone

who comes and goes
when I'm not here.

Patrick something, she said.

So, that's the fella's name,
is it, Patrick Nash?

Mr. Farrel, please do not
jump to conclusions.

It's hard not to when he's
run off with me missus!

Sorry, darling.

It's not your fault.

It's just...

I just want her back.

I do understand,

and I, I know this is
difficult for you, but...

What?

You want some?

No, thank you.

The tin just looks familiar,
that's all.

A friend of mine
used the same brand.

Small world.

Well, hopefully, your wife
will be home soon.

If you'll excuse me,
I must be going.

If you find her,

you'll let me know,
won't you, darling?

Yes, of course.

As soon as you can.

Don't make me come looking
for you now.

Mr. Potts.

May I come in?

Miss Scarlet, I believe
we'd reached an understanding.

You may only enter
these premises

when accompanied
by an officer of the law.

I'm meeting Detective Fitzroy
about a case.

Eamonn Murray?

The stabbing
by the docks?

Yes, I know the case.

And no, Detective Fitzroy
has not arrived.

Nor has Mr. Wormsley
to do the postmortem.

I tried to explain
to Detective Fitzroy earlier

that we were rather under
the cosh at the moment,

but he was most rude to me.

Well, I'm sorry to hear that,

but Detective Fitzroy
has instructed

that I wait for him inside.

Which I think still honors
the spirit of our agreement,

does it not?
No, it does not.

Mr. Potts.

Ivy is like a mother to me,

and when the two of you are wed,

you will be, for better or
for worse, like a father.

And yet, you still
seek to lie, cheat,

and manipulate me, as ever.

Good day, Miss Scarlet!

That woman.

Utterly relentless.

Would try the patience
of a saint!

Mr. Potts, please.

Hear me out.

Miss Scarlet.

How on Earth did you...
The truth is,

I have no plans to meet
Detective Fitzroy.

Ah.

My business partner has gone
missing, accused of murder.

I'm convinced he's innocent,
but to prove it,

I need information on the corpse

you have in here,
and yes,

I know what we agreed.

And, yes, I know my presence
irks you so,

but right now, Mr. Potts,
beyond anyone else in the world,

it's your informed opinion
that I seek.

Oh.

Well, it's...

It's nice to know that someone
values my opinion, I suppose.

Hmm.

One question, you say?

Uh, the dead man's teeth--
what condition are they in?

Detective Fitzroy.

Miss Scarlet.

I'm sorry to bother you
so late.

I've a question for you.

Go on.

I went to the telegraph
office

near Eamonn Murray's
lodgings.

It appears he sent a telegram
to Mr. Nash saying, "He's back."

Do you know
what that could mean?

I don't, I'm afraid.

You look tired, Oliver.

Perhaps pick this up
in the morning.

It would be pointless--
I won't sleep.

I must make some progress
on this investigation.

My father's made it clear to me
that if I do well in this case,

then I'll be promoted,

and I'll fill
Inspector Wellington's shoes

while he's
on his secondment.

I see.

Please, keep this
to yourself.

Charlie Phelps has
his suspicions,

and I have enough on my plate
as it is.

He won't hear it from me.

And please, let me know
if Mr. Nash makes any contact

immediately.

Of course.

I got your message.

Your maid let me in.

Can she be trusted?

She can.

Patrick.

What's going on?

I can't stay long.

I come with only one request.

Leave this alone.

How can I when you fled
a murder scene?

I don't have time to explain,

but I need you to trust me
and do as I ask.

What did that telegram mean,
"He's back?" Who's back?

Eliza...

And where's Maggie Farrel?
Somewhere safe.

Safe from her husband?

She doesn't have a husband--
the man you met is dangerous.

Stay away from him.

How do you know who I met?

Have you been following me?
Run the business,

concentrate on the cases
you have.

Do not try to find me.

I found a brand
of chewing tobacco

at the dead man's lodgings.

And, as I'm sure you're aware,
chewing tobacco

often causes damage and decay
to the tooth and gums,

but Eamonn Murray's teeth
were in perfect condition,

not a stain on them.

I, I believe the tobacco
belonged to the Irish man

I met at Maggie Farrel's.
For your own safety,

stay out of this.

Please.

Chewing tobacco?

It's how we'll find him.

Who?

Bloody hell-- the murderer.

I am your senior officer.

You should not talk to me
in that kind of fashion.

What kind of fashion?

It's your tone, Charlie.

My tone? Oh, la-di-da!

Gentlemen.

Eamonn Murray was an informant
of Mr. Nash,

as is Maggie Farrel,
who is currently missing.

They are linked
by a third person.

The Irishman.
Finally, he gets it.

Someone matching
his description

was seen
at Eamonn Murray's lodgings

the day he was killed.

This is key.

It's a brand of chewing tobacco
from Norway,

sold in just one shop

in London:
a tobacconist near the docks.

The proprietor recently sold
several tins

to the crew of a fishing boat
from Oslo called the Narvik.

One of their number
was not Norwegian.

He was an Irishman
who bought three tins,

one of which I found
in Eamonn Murray's room.

I'll get down the docks, see
if can get the ship's manifest.

That should have the names
of everyone on board.
No.

You will wait
for my command.

No need,
Detective Phelps.

I went this morning
and got the manifest.

It's a crew of seven,
all with Norwegian names,

apart from

a Sean O'Driscoll.

Do you have any idea
where we might find him?

All my men have been looking
for him,

but so far found nothing.

My guess is that he'd be
somewhere near the docks.

There are three pubs
near where the ship's docked,

plus a couple
of low-rent brothels.

I imagine we'll find
one or two sailors there.

I was about to say the same.

Were you?

Detective Phelps,
gather ten men

and wait for us outside.

Now, Charlie!

Miss Scarlet, I, I apologize,
I just...

I just want this to go well.

Oliver, I'm far from an expert
on this,

but from my brief experience
of being the one in charge,

losing one's temper
rarely serves any purpose.

Inspector Wellington
always found a balance

between rebuke
and encouragement.

I confess, it does not
come naturally to me.

Well, you're not
Inspector Wellington.

You're your own person.

You'll find your own way.

Come on, get a move on!

Hurry up!

Any of these?

No, he's not here.

We're looking for a man
from a boat called the Narvik.

Norwegian in origin.

But the man we seek
is an Irishman

by the name of Sean O'Driscoll.

If any of you know him or any
of that crew, speak now.

This is a murder investigation.

If, if you do not cooperate,
there will,

there will be consequences!

Any suggestions?

Oh, so you, uh,
want my help now?

My old man
was in the merchant navy.

30 years, man and boy.

I remember him saying most
sailors are only on dry land

for a couple of days
at a time.

The ship docks,
unloads its cargo,

loads up again, and heads off.

He was always worried
he'd pass out drunk somewhere,

and miss his ship leaving,

'cause then they'd give his job
to someone else.

And he'd be stranded miles
from home, no money,

and no job-- or even worse,
he'd be back in London,

and he'd have to go home
to me mum.

So...

We could have every one of you
held for questioning.

And that could mean days
in a cell, maybe longer.

Certainly long enough for
someone else to take your job.

Let's try this again.

Do any of you know
Sean O'Driscoll?

Were any of you on his boat?

You were on the Narvik?

No-- but he was.

Will you get out
of the bloody way, you idiot?!

Get up!

A thank you would be
appropriate.

Tell us about Sean O'Driscoll.

He was your shipmate?

When we arrived in London,

myself and the rest
of the crew

stayed in a boarding house
near the docks.

We assumed that Sean would go
home-- he said he lives here.

But instead, he stayed with us.

We shared a room together.

On the second night,
he came in late.

He was drunk and angry,
his clothes stained with blood.

He told me

if anyone came asking
that I had to say

I had been with him all night,
and to keep my mouth shut,

or he would kill me.

When was this?

Two nights ago.

The night of the murder.

Is he still at this
boarding house?

Keep those rounds secure.

Don't load
till I give the order.

And try not to bloody
shoot yourselves!

We couldn't find anything on
Sean O'Driscoll at first,

but I sent word to the records
office in Clerkenwell.

That's him.

It's an old charge sheet
from eight years ago.

It belongs to the
London City Police,

which is why we didn't have it
in our files.

There are numerous
petty offenses,

but there's something else.

Warrant for arrest, 1876.

He was a suspect
in a murder case,

but look
at the victim's name.

Michael Nash.

Patrick's brother.

Clarence, what do you know
of Mr. Nash's brother?

Only that he was murdered,
and the culprit never caught.

I need to show you something.

There's another safe
in my office.

Mr. Nash asked me not
to tell you, I really am...

Just tell me
what happened.

I was working late.

I stepped out for a few minutes
to get something to eat.

When I returned,
someone had accessed the safe.

How many hidden safes
does one man need?

He keeps his most
sensitive documents in there.

Only he and I know
of its existence,

which would seem to suggest...

He's been back here.

When you say "sensitive
documents," what do you mean?

Money in various different
currencies,

details of bank accounts
on the continent.

Things he would need

should he ever wish
to disappear.

Well, why would he wish
to disappear now?

Half of Scotland Yard
is looking for Sean O'Driscoll.

Perhaps he's fearful O'Driscoll
will get to him first?

Well, Patrick's no coward.

Well, he has his moments.

Go and see if anything else
has been taken.

The men are in position.

We'll go in at exactly
11:00.

O'Driscoll's room
is on the second floor,

and it's possible he may try
to climb out the back, so...

Watch around the back,
yeah, I know.

I've got my men there
already.

My apologies-- your men.

Charlie, it might benefit
us both

if we were on more
friendly terms.

You can't be both--
you're either in charge

or your someone's mate,
never both.

Well, at least show
some gratitude, then.

I saved your life
this afternoon,

yet you've offered
not one word of thanks.

Do you know how many coppers'
lives I've saved?

Or how many have saved mine?

It's a given--
I'd have done the same for you.

Yes, well, even so...

Is that what you want
from all this?

Someone to say, "Well done"?

Someone to tell you
how clever you are?

'Cause no one did
when you were a nipper?

Do the job or don't do the job.

Just don't ask me to tell you
what a good boy you are.

Move now, move, move!

What is this place?

A good place
for a wanted man to hide.

I thought I was more than clear

about you not getting involved
for your own safety.

You didn't seriously think
I'd listen to you, did you?

What can I say?

I'm an optimist.

I should've known
you were here.

Like you said,
it's the perfect place to hide.

Mm, apparently not.

What else have you found out?

I know that Sean O'Driscoll
killed your brother.

First, I thought you were
running from him.

But then I realized.

You're not hiding from him.

You're hunting him.

You've found him,
haven't you?

What have you done, Patrick?

Untie him,

and we'll take him
to Scotland Yard.

There were two witnesses
to my brother's murder.

One was Maggie, a barmaid

O'Driscoll
had taken a shine to.

And the other was Eamonn.

He was in the wrong place
at the wrong time.

And you killed him for it.

I got to know Maggie
and Eamonn over the years.

Kept them on the payroll.

The deal was,
if he ever came back,

they'd let me know.

Eamonn was as good as his word.

But I got to him too late.

That's why I moved Maggie
somewhere safe.

Tell all this
to the police.

What's sense is there
keeping him here?

So I can put a bullet
in his head.

No! Please, don't.
No, no, no, no, Patrick,
you're not thinking clearly.

I've never had more clarity.

My brother was the sweetest,

kindest soul
you could ever meet.

The only family I had left.

And he took him from me!

If you kill him in cold blood,

you are no better than he is.

Get out of my way.

This will be murder, Patrick.

You will hang!
Get out of my way!

No, Patrick,
please do not do this.

If not for yourself,
then for me.

For you?

All my life, I've been told

there are things
that I cannot do.

And for all your faults,

and God knows there are many,

you are the only one
to ever show any faith in me.

You're not just
my business partner.

You're my friend.

You always know

the right thing to say.

It really is most annoying.

So, what happens now?

The hospital have confirmed
O'Driscoll is in a bad way,

but he'll live.

The bullet went
right through his shoulder.

With O'Driscoll
a known killer,

if he intended to stab you
with a shard of glass,

an argument can be made
for self-defense.

Patrick saved my life.

You'll have to testify

and explain your part
in all this.

You should have contacted us
when you knew where he was.

But we'll speak of

your good character
and cooperation.

Won't we, Detective Phelps?

We will.

But on the matter of kidnap
and obstruction of justice,

we can't turn a blind eye.

Nash will be charged,

and if convicted,

he'll be facing
some time inside.

You should go home
and get some sleep.

Can I see him before I leave?

There you go, miss.

How are you?

I've been better.

My license will be suspended
whilst I'm awaiting trial.

I'm afraid the office
will have to close.

Hopefully not for long.

Patrick...
I know what you're
thinking.

What, that you look terrible?

That I'm going to prison
for some time.

But you're wrong.

I know several good lawyers.

A couple of High Court judges,
too.

There's every chance
this will just be

a temporary setback.

We'll be back on course
before you know it.

And with my good looks
and your brains, well...

You don't believe me,
do you?

Tch.

Don't answer that.

What will you do
in the meantime?

What I always do.

I'll be fine.

Of that,
I have no doubt.

I'm...

Truly sorry.
You don't have to apologize.

Mmm, perhaps.

But I want you
to think I'm a

good person.

That will never happen,
Patrick.

No?

But I'll always keep trying.

The city gets worse and worse.

It took me an age
to find a cab.

And why do we have to meet
in this bloody place again?

Because I like it.

Well, I won't draw this out
any longer than I have to.

My cab is waiting for me.

The job is yours,
effective immediately.

When Wellington returns
from New York,

he will resume his post.

But you will have had
solid experience,

and we can move you on
elsewhere.

You'll get a letter
with all the details:

salary and so on.

No.

What?

I don't want it.

What do you mean,
you don't want it?

I cannot think of a clearer way
to express that.

Don't you have any ambition?

In truth,

I'm not entirely sure.

I know I'm happy
in my position.

I have much to learn.

Each time, I think
you cannot disappoint me more,

and each time,
you prove me wrong.

That is your concern, Father,
not mine.

I no longer care.

Well, if not you, then who?

God knows we're not spoiled
for choice.

There is one man
I would recommend.

He is, I believe,

the best man for the job.

So, I'll say it once again
for the hard of thinking.

Every file for
every active investigation

to be on my desk
by 6:00 tonight.

I want it written
in something

that resembles
the Queen's English.

Right, dismissed.

Not you,
Detective Fitzroy.

Thank you.

Was there anything else?

Was there
anything else, sir?

Was there anything else, sir?

No-- now bugger off.

Shut the door.

Things haven't quite
turned out how I'd hoped.

Sometimes,

I do wonder...

If it's all worth it?

You are a good detective,
Eliza, very good.

And whatever happens
from here,

you'll find a way
to make it work.

You always do.

Goodness!

Those stairs
have left me quite puffed.

You mind your back, Barnabus--
you know how it gets.

Oh, heaven.

I'm feeling a slight twinge
in my lower vertebrae.

I told you
to be careful.

Here,
you need help.

Thank you.

Thank you for your help,
Clarence.

You really didn't have to.

It's my pleasure.

Well, perhaps
not my pleasure.

I've never been one
for manual labor.

You have my word,
Clarence,

I'll be in touch
when I'm back on my feet.

I look forward to it,
Miss Scarlet.

Will you be all right?

I have some small savings.

I shall be quite well.

Nothing heavy,
Barnabus!

Please don't fuss,
my dear.

I want you in one piece.

You should not say such things--
it's not Christian.

Miss Scarlet?

Oh! One moment.

All finished,
Mr. Hill?

All done, miss.

It's perfect.

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