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- (DRAMATIC MUSIC) - NASH: It's not my fault!

- (GATE SLAMS) - ELIZA: All this is your fault!

- (GUNFIRE) - NASH: Fine! It's my fault!

- (FOOTSTEPS RUNNING) - 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.

- (GUNFIRE, BULLET RICOCHETS) - Ah!

(HIGH TEMPO MUSIC)

(GUNFIRE, ELIZA SCREAMS) Argh!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

What is this place?

A good place for a wanted man to hide.

(GUNFIRE)

(GAS HISSES)

What is this powder? It's everywhere.

They used to make some kind of chemical here,

- I can't remember what. - Is it toxic?

(GUN FIRES)

That may be the least of our worries.

(FOOTSTEPS RUNNING)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(OUT OF BREATH)

I'm fairly sure we lost him.

Really?

I'm not.

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)

Neither am I.

Will that lock from the inside?

(WHISPERING) 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...

- (GUN FIRES) - (GLASS SMASHES)

You're absolutely sure you gave him that laudanum?

How many times? Yes, I'm sure!

- (GUN FIRES) - (GLASS SMASHES)

- (DOOR HANDLE RATTLES) (BANGING) - Eliza!

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

- (GLASS SMASHES) - (GRUNTING)

- (DOOR HANDLE RATTLES) - Don't worry,

I used to box for County Wicklow.

Well, is that a high standard?

Yes, it's a high standard!

(DOOR BANGING)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(THUD)

(TREACHEROUS MUSIC)

NASH: Good work.

(CREAKING)

- (GLASSES SMASHING) - (THEME MUSIC)

- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -

(APPLAUSE)

- (LIGHT MUSIC) - (ELIZA LAUGHS)

Thank you, gentlemen, thank you.

But we must also thank Mr. Nash.

He and I apprehended the fugitive together.

(APPLAUSE)

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. - (GRUMBLING) Oh.

We're going to be busier than ever, gentlemen.

Thank you, once again. All of you.

- (APPLAUSE) - DETECTIVE: Yes, Miss Scarlet.

- DETECTIVE: Well done, Miss Scarlet. - DETECTIVE: Well done.

(APPLAUSE)

(PAGE FLIPS)

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.

Er, are the overtime payments strictly necessary?

Well... good for morale.

And you did say that we could afford it.

Er, 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 usual? - NASH: You assume correctly.

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

(DOOR CREAKS OPEN)

(SIGHS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(EXHALES) You look tired.

- Thank you for that. - NASH: 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 two o'clock steeplechase. - No. I don't like gambling.

(NASH CHUCKLES)

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

And what's the point in earning money if you can't lose it?

(UPBEAT MUSIC)

(DOOR OPENS)

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

(HOOVES CLOPPING)

(CARRIAGE RUMBLES)

FITZROY: So, it's a bad thing?

I didn't say it was a bad thing, I just said it wasn't good.

(CARRIAGE DOOR CLOSES)

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 cesspit in summer.

You heard anything about the 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 ya.

Shut your mouth, you, and come with me!

Oliver...

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

Is there somewhere we can talk?

(TENSE MUSIC)

(PEOPLE LAUGHING, CHATTING)

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. (CHUCKLES)

Well, (CLEARS THROAT) 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.

(LAUGHS) Can you imagine a man like Phelps

dealing with government ministers?

Hmm.

No, I want someone who understands the game.

The right man for the job.

We offered it to Hudson in the 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.

(CUP CLUNKS)

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.

(LAUGHS SOFTLY) 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.

(TENSE MUSIC)

I have given orders that you are to lead

the next murder investigation that comes in.

Show me you've got what it takes.

- (PAT ON SHOULDER) - (NERVOUS LAUGH)

We'll talk again.

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDE)

- (CUP THUDS) - (SIGHS)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

- (HOOVES CLOPPING) - (STREET CHATTER)

DRIVER: Woah!

NASH: 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?

- Well... I think it's right here. - (HOOVES CLOPPING)

- (DOOR CREAKS OPEN) - Miss Scarlet.

Mr. Nash. How was the racing?

Successful.

- For some of us. - (DOOR CLOSES)

Well... nobody likes a gloater.

Nobody likes a loser.

Right, well, erm, 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.

(PAPER RIPS)

There are two copies. Here, and here.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

Everything alright, Mr. Nash?

Just ignore him.

He's in a sulk.

CLARENCE: And this one here.

- (FOOTSTEPS RECEDING RAPIDLY) - (DOOR OPENS)

- Patrick? - (DOOR SLAMS CLOSED)

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

POTTS: Heavenly Father...

Bless these gifts which we receive

from thy bountiful goodness.

(CHURCH BELL RINGS)

Deprive us not of thy kingdom,

but grant that we may feast in fellowship with thee,

for now, and forever more.

And we give thanks for thy overflowing generosity,

and endeavor to be truly worthy... of thy kindness.

Amen. (COUGHS)

- Amen. - Amen. (CLEARS THROAT)

- (POTTS CLEARS HIS THROAT) - (CUTLERY CLANGS)

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.

Aww, that's so lovely Barnabus.

You're so good with words.

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

- (POTTS CHUCKLES) - (IVY SIGHS)

Umm... 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... (CHUCKLES)

I have a rather amusing anecdote

you may wish to include in your correspondence.

About the methanol we received at the mortuary.

(CHUCKLES) You remember, I told you about it.

Perhaps you can tell him yourself on his return?

(LAUGHS) Oh, no, no, no.

A tale this hilarious cannot wait.

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

(PLAYFUL MUSIC)

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.

(KNOCKING)

I'll get that.

(DOOR OPENS)

- (DOOR CLOSES) - It was very funny.

Oh.

(KISS)

(DOOR OPENS)

Detective Fitzroy.

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

It's a somewhat delicate matter.

Of course.

- (DOOR CLOSES) - 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.

Err, 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.

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)

(FLASH, CRACKLING)

- (PEOPLE CHATTERING) - (DOG BARKING)

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 only 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 mention the name Eamonn before?

Her boss is a suspect.

Talk about a 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?

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

- (KNOCK ON DOOR) - (DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)

CLARENCE: Oh.

(DOOR CLOSES)

I asked the men, no-one's seen Mr. Nash

since he left the office yesterday.

And this, err... and the telegram he received,

- you didn't see what it said? - No.

It did seem to greatly alter his mood.

- (DRINK POURS) - Hmm.

- Indeed, it did. - (BOTTLE CLATTERS ON TRAY)

Oh.

The police have no surname

or address for the dead man, they...

think his Christian name was 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, 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 enquire in the most forceful terms.

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

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

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.

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)

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.

- (STREET SOUNDS) - (DOG BARKING)

(HARMONICA PLAYING)

MAN: Where are we going?

MAN: I know this great place...

- (CLICK) - (DOOR CREAKS OPEN)

(TENSE MUSIC)

(PORCELAIN CLINKS)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING DISTANTLY)

(DRAWER OPENS, CLOSES)

(GLASS BOWL CLINKS)

(CUPBOARD OPENS)

(CUPBOARD CLOSES)

(TIN CLATTERS)

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 now 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.

(CLEARS THROAT)

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...

PHELPS: 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.

(SNIGGERS) Really? Oh, that'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.

(TENSE MUSIC)

(THUD)

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDE)

He's a sensitive soul.

POTTS: Indeed.

(HOOVES CLOPPING)

ELIZA: Clarence.

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

Do what?

Betray his confidence.

I've made further enquiries.

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

as with Eamonn Murray.

And that is?

(WHIMPERS) 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, err... Once a month,

Mr. Nash makes a payment to a lady

named Margaret Farrel,

and that is all I know.

Oh, apart from her address, which you will now give me.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

- (TENSE MUSIC) - (DOOR CREAKS OPEN)

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

I'm looking for Margaret Farrel.

So am I, darling.

- You're a private detective? - (WHISKEY POURING)

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?

Err, a business associate of mine.

A Mr. Patrick Nash.

(TREACHEROUS MUSIC)

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.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

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.

(TIN SHUTS)

Small world.

(SCOFFS)

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.

(LAUGHS)

(DANGEROUS MUSIC)

(DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)

(DOOR SQUEAKS CLOSED)

(HOOVES CLOPPING)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

(DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)

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.

(DOOR SLAMS)

(LOUD CHATTER)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

(DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)

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 still you seek to lie,

cheat, and manipulate me as ever.

Good day, Miss Scarlet!

- (DOOR SLAMS) - (UPBEAT MUSIC)

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 do...

... 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.

(TENSE MUSIC)

Oh...

Well...

it's nice to know that

someone values my opinion, I suppose.

Hmm.

One question, you say?

Er, the dead man's teeth. What condition are they in?

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING SLOWLY)

- (SHEET FLAPS) - (OMINOUS MUSIC)

(CARRIAGE DOOR CLOSES)

Detective Fitzroy?

Miss Scarlet.

I'm sorry to bother you so late.

- I have 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."

- (SINISTER MUSIC) - 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.

(FOOTSTEPS SKIPPING)

(TENSE MUSIC)

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

I got your message.

(FIRE CRACKLING)

Your maid let me in.

Can she be trusted?

She can.

(HOOVES CLOPPING DISTANTLY)

Patrick...

what's going on?

I can't stay long.

I come with only one request...

leave this alone.

(DANGEROUS MUSIC)

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.

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

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 Irishman

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

stay out of this.

Please.

(TENSE MUSIC)

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(NOISY CHATTER)

(TIN BANGS)

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 Eammon Murray's lodgings

the day he was killed.

- (TIN CLATTERS) - 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 Eammon Murray's room.

- (TIN BANGS) - 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.

- (SINISTER MUSIC) - (PAPER UNFURLS)

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.

(PAPER SLIDES)

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.

(SHOUTS) Now, Charlie!

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDE)

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

Miss Scarlet, I, I apologize.

I just...

I just want this to go well.

(TENDER MUSIC)

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.

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDE)

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(BUSY STREET CHATTER)

PHELPS: Come on, get a move on! Hurry up!

(SEAGULLS CRYING)

Any of these?

No, he's not here.

(CLEARS THROAT)

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.

(MAN CLEARS THROAT)

This is a murder investigation!

If you do not co-operate, there will...

there will be consequences!

(SEAGULLS CRYING)

Any suggestions?

Oh, so you err, want my help now?

My old man was in the merchant navy.

Thirty 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.

(LAUGHTER)

So...

we could have every one of you held for questioning.

But 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?

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)

- You were on the Narvik? - No.

But he was.

- (HIGH TEMPO MUSIC) - (MEN SHOUTING)

(THUD) Urgh!

Will you get out the bloody way, you idiot! Urgh!

Argh! (THUD)

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

(HEADBUTT) Urgh!

(KNIFE SINGS)

(THUD) Urgh!

Get up!

(TENSE MUSIC)

A thank you would be appropriate.

Tell us about Sean O'Driscoll.

He was your shipmate?

(SIGHS)

When we arrived in London,

myself and the rest of the crew

stayed in a boarding house near the docks.

- (SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC) - 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.

(UP TEMPO MUSIC)

Is he still at this boarding house?

(RIFLE CLATTERING)

Keep those rounds secure,

and 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 offences,

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.

(FOOTSTEPS PACING)

(HOOVES CLOPPING)

(DOOR CREAKS OPEN)

- (DOOR CLOSES) - 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.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(FIRE CRACKLING)

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.

Oh, Patrick's no coward.

Well...

he has his moments.

Go and see if anything else has been taken.

(TENSE MUSIC)

(FOOTSTEPS BOUNDING UP STAIRS)

(SEAGULLS CRYING)

The men are in position.

We'll go in at exactly eleven o'clock.

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.

(WHISPERS) 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 what a good boy you are.

(SINISTER MUSIC)

- (WHISTLE BLOWS) - OFFICER: Move, move!

Quicker, quicker! Go, go, go, go!

- (DRAMATIC ORCHESTRAL MUSIC) - (FIRE CRACKLING)

(FINGER RUBS)

ELIZA: What is this place?

A good place for a wanted man to hide.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

(SINISTER MUSIC)

(FOOTSTEPS SKIP LIGHTLY)

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?

(INHALES SHARPLY)

Well, 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.

Well, 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?

(DRAMATIC ORCHESTRAL MUSIC)

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.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

And the other was Eamonn.

He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And you...

killed him for it.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

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?

- (GUN CLATTERS) - 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. - (GUN COCKS)

- If you kill him in cold blood, - (TENSE MUSIC)

- you are no better than he is. - Get out my way.

This will be murder, Patrick. You will hang!

- (SHOUTS) Get out of my way! - No, Patrick, please do not do this!

If not for yourself, then for me.

(DARK MUSIC)

For you?

All my life I've been told...

there are things that I cannot do.

(SINISTER MUSIC)

(ROPE RUBBING)

And for all your faults, and God knows there are many,

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

You're not just my business partner.

You're my friend.

(TENDER MUSIC)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

You always know...

the right thing to say.

(ROPE PULLING)

(TENSE MUSIC)

It really is most annoying.

(GLASS CLINKS)

- (DRAMATIC MUSIC) - (GUN FIRES, ELIZA SHRIEKS)

(THUD)

(OMINOUS MUSIC CRESCENDO)

So, what happens now?

The hospital have confirmed that 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. - (SOFT MUSIC)

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 co-operation,

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?

(POLICE STATION CHATTER)

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING) (KEYS JANGLE)

(LOCK CLICKS)

(DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)

There you go, Miss.

(SQUEAKING)

(CELL DOOR CLANKS) (LOCK TURNS)

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

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.

(SLOW FOOTSTEPS)

(SIGHS)

- 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.

With my good looks... and your brains...

You don't believe me, do you?

- (TENDER MUSIC) - Shh.

Don't answer that.

What will you do in the meantime?

What I always do.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

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.

(LAUGHS) Oh, no?

(CHUCKLES)

But I'll always keeping trying.

- (STREET CHATTER) - (HOOVES CLOPPING)

(MEN LAUGHING)

This 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. (LAUGHS)

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.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

That is your concern, Father,

not mine.

I no longer care.

(EXHALES)

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... - (UPBEAT MUSIC)

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 six o'clock tonight.

I want it written in something that

resembles the Queen's English.

Right, dismissed.

OFFICERS: (MUMBLING) (FOOTSTEPS SHUFFLING)

Not you, Detective Fitzroy.

Thank you.

Was there anything else?

Was there anything else... Sir?

Was there anything else, sir?

No. Now, bugger off.

- (UPBEAT MUSIC) - Shut the door.

(DOOR CLOSES)

- (CORK POPS) - (CHURCH BELLS RING)

(FIRE CRACKLING)

(SOFT MUSIC)

(SLOW FOOTSTEPS)

ELIZA: 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.

POTTS: Goodness...

Those stairs have left me quite puffed.

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

(SIGHS)

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

I told you to be careful.

- Here, you need help. - Thank you.

(GRUNTS, CHUCKLES)

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 alright?

I have some small savings, I shall be quite well.

(LAUGHS)

Nothing heavy, Barnabus!

Please don't fuss, my dear.

(SIGHS) I want you in one piece.

You should not say such things. It's not Christian.

(GIGGLING)

HILL: Miss Scarlet?

Ooh. One moment.

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING HURRIEDLY)

- Hmm, mm, mm. - (BARNABUS SIGHS)

- (PEOPLE CHATTERING) - (DOOR OPENS)

All finished, Mr. Hill?

All done, Miss.

(HOOVES CLOPPING)

It's perfect.

(LAUGHS SOFTLY)

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

(DOOR CLOSES)

_

(THEME MUSIC)

- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -