Original subtitles

You stole your own mother's jewels.

A private investigator is on the way.

This detective hired by the insurance company--

Birtwistle, sir

He can go where you can't.

And his interrogation will provide a theory of the crime.

I will have the truth, or you will

be paid nothing for your claim.

You weren't kidnapped, but willingly left

with Charlie, who is now in prison and liable to hang.

To destroy the Red Thread would be to the advantage

of us both, Moriarty

How it must gall you to beg for my assistance.

Exercise great caution. You must learn to hunt while looking like prey.

Let me up or I'll blow your head off.

I could legally shoot you in self-defense,

but I'd rather talk.

Shall I call for a constable, or would you prefer to explain

why you bushwhacked me?

Should I call for a constable, or will you explain

why you've been following me all afternoon?

Promise not to attack me again.

Well, they looked a lot better before you mashed them up.

Sorry, I meant no insult.

Why would you give me flowers?

To ease an awkward introduction.

I'm sorry.

Shall I try again?

You're very nice, thank you.

You're most welcome.

You could have introduced yourself earlier.

I was anxious about how I might be received.

Not entirely without reason.

Maybe I jumped the gun.

I'm Amelia Rojas.

I'm Michael Wylie.

And I'm very much in need of your help.

What could a maid like me do for a gentleman like you?

No serving girl has ever put me on my back before.

You're far from ordinary.

And neither is your employer.

Oh. So the flowers have something

to do with Mr. Holmes.

You have that American way of getting right to the point.

And you have a way of not answering direct questions.

Why do you need my help?

How does it involve my employer?

Hmm?

A few years ago, Mr. Holmes helped put

a famous criminal, Professor James Moriarty, behind bars.

You ever heard of him?

No, but I've only started working for Mr. Holmes recently.

Oh?

And what's he like?

I'm no spy, Mr. Wylie.

I think spying's an ugly word.

And I'm not interested in his personal habits.

What are you interested in then?

Your employer's relationship to Professor Moriarty.

But I don't want to talk about him behind his back.

Who doesn't talk about their boss behind his back?

I only wonder if Mr. Holmes intends to accuse Professor

Moriarty of more crimes.

If you could find out, I'd be very grateful.

I would pay a full pound for your trouble.

That's a lot of money.

How do I get in contact with you?

I'll wait for you tomorrow and every day after that

at Mrs. Bailey's Tea House on Park Road at 4 p.m.

Just in case you learn something.

Five shillings extra for meeting me tomorrow.

And to put some butter on the bacon,

I'll even plunk down for tea.

I'll think about your offer, Mr. Wylie.

Thank you for the flowers and for not shooting

me in the head.

Maybe I shouldn't say so, Miss Rojas,

But it is such a lovely head, I'm glad my gun wasn't loaded.

Until tomorrow then.

Amelia, where are you?

Amelia! I need you!

Beg your pardon, sir.

Miss Rojas has not returned from fetching your horse.

"Done on your orders," she says.

But those orders should have come through me.

If it hasn't occurred to you by now,

Amelia is not only my maid, she is also my assistant

in helping with a task, and it involves

the return of your sister.

What the devil's wrong with her?

You know, my wife is a woman of virtue.

And the thought of a young girl involved

in the grisly horrors of this kidnapping

upsets her past the point of feminine endurance.

Well, I do apologize, Mrs. Halligan,

if I've challenged your notion of propriety,

but in the name of-- oh, there you are.

What kept you?

Never mind.

I'm in a frightful hurry.

I'll ask for your report while I remove

these verminous rags.

He's taking off his clothes.

Clara is terrified for her reputation,

but she accepts that only we can keep her safe.

Mrs. Anderson even asked me to accept a post

as Clara's chaperone.

Mr. Birtwistle, the insurance investigator,

he offered me a job as his apprentice.

Bertie Birtwistle?

What a pompous ass.

Imagine working for him.

Listening to him pontificate all day.

What an insufferable bore.

Still, he has sometimes applied for me for advice,

so he's not a complete fool.

This other offer, however, chaperone to the American

ambassador's daughter, that's a job worth considering,

Not just for your safety, but for Clara.

She's, uh, is, after all, our last living

link to the red thread.

I can't believe how quickly they got to poor Charlie.

Fast as a telegraph signal.

However, before his untimely demise,

I did manage to ring from him the names of his accomplices.

Mr. Weams and Magott, if you can believe it.

Aliases, no doubt, as well as their possible destination.

And with this information, I hope soon to have their faces.

Yes.

You already do.

Ah. I saw them leaving the coffin

factory right before Charlie.

Yes, well, Charlie suggested they'd been warned to

escape by a police officer, someone of rank, no doubt.

How did you manage to reach Charlie unseen?

Oh, with the help of an old prisoner in exchange for

finding his prodigal son, a task that will take me

to Scotland Yard without crossing the thread.

And is he this prisoner?

is completely unconnected to our present business,

which for you means tracking down Weams and Magott.

It's our most dangerous mission yet,

and you may not go unarmed.

So allow me to demonstrate the basics of this--

uh, oh.

It's kind of old, isn't it?

Some other issues, but you've kept it in decent shape.

I'll need more bullets.

Six is quite enough.

How did you become so proficient in firearms?

My mother taught me with a machine she built.

Remember, watch for the recoil and aim ahead of the target.

Time for something harder.

You've improved.

That's the first time you hit even one pigeon

when two were flying.

But why learn this?

And don't say it's the wilderness,

because I already know how to hunt wild animals

and protect myself from them too.

You're right, Amelia.

Wolves and bears are not your enemies.

Well then who is?

I am the daughter of an Apache mother

and a Ranchero father.

And my grandfather was a soldier of Spain.

You are part of all of them, and also half English.

This frightens people.

But why if we're a part of everyone?

Part of everyone, all of nothing.

We're a tribe of two.

Well, maybe one day we can be a tribe of three.

I could marry someone strong and handsome.

He could help us.

Shall we wait then?

Depend on someone we haven't met yet.

Or shall we be ready to protect ourselves?

Pull!

So, your mother taught you all this,

but she did not teach you how to keep your balance

in a fight.

Excuse me?

Your assailant had you on the ground

where he rolled you at least once.

I say he because this mark on your shoulder

comes from the hand of a man, You're clearly not a gentleman.

The general distress of your clothes

and this trail of debris strewn across Mrs. Halligan's

newly cleaned floor indicate a closer relationship

with grass and mud than one would normally encounter

in the course of returning a horse.

And this, this, look at this.

Primula vulgaris.

Yes, common primrose.

So pray explain this struggle which I urged you to avoid.

Well, it wasn't my fault.

There was a man, an older man, near your age.

He tried to steal Chance while I watered him.

I slipped and rolled out of Chance's way,

but I jumped up and I struggled with the man

who ran away when he saw that I'd fight back.

Why did you not give Chase?

Because I didn't want to leave your horse behind

in case the thief had an accomplice.

Yeah. Well, we'll take

that as answered, though you did not

account for the primrose.

Now, in what remains of the afternoon,

you will have Mr. Halligan drive you to the coffin factory

to ascertain if there is a telephone on the premises.

A telephone is a rather-- I know what a telephone is.

Oh, well, just making certain.

Afterwards, you will press on to Richmond

in search of Weams and Magott.

You will station yourself at the best local chop house

and offer to sketch portraits at sixpence apiece.

Now, you can use these pictures of Charlie's accomplices

as examples of your work.

Oh, and then if anyone has seen either of these men, then...

Yes, they're likely to comment on the quality

of the likenesses.

It's amazing how quickly you apprehend my solutions.

Very interesting.

Now, here are two sovereigns for expenses.

Now, if you manage to locate the kidnappers

or someplace they have confined Watson and Mrs. Hudson,

you must send me a telegram forthwith.

And where are you off to?

Oh, Scotland Yard.

I'm there to play the fool.

I have no time to lose.

Where's my coat?

Oh, I left it on the stairs.

Don't forget the gun.

Thank you for such a pleasant ride.

You're welcome, Amelia.

Though, it seems improper that you should put yourself

in danger for the wages of a scullery maid.

Oh, I have good reason to help Mr. Holmes,

as do you and Mrs. Halligan.

I wish I didn't upset her so much.

Oh, no, it's not like that, no.

From before we were married, During our days in service

to the Earl of Compton, the missus has been keenly

aware of social decorum.

Mr. Holmes and his ways are sometimes a bit unorthodox.

I respect Mrs. Halligan's opinions.

I would not mention the word "opinion" to her.

In my wife's mind, she has no opinions, only the facts.

Contradicting her is like trying to float upstream.

That coach over there, where's Lord Withersea's

coat of arms?

How odd.

Not at all, Mr. Halligan.

It's a bit of luck.

Finally. Excuse me.

This won't take long.

But, Lord Withersea, we can't just leave.

Crack on, will you?

Your investigation hasn't stopped people from dying.

Our inquiry's not yet complete.

We were closed for minor refurbishments.

No one was aware the kidnappers were hiding here.

We must finish our own work before you can resume yours.

If you refuse to leave, I will file a complaint

with your superiors.

As you wish, Lord Withersea.

Get me Scotland Yard and the Chief Inspector

Whitlock's office.

Madam, the factory is closed.

Sorry, sir.

My brother is a joiner here, but

he's fallen very ill.

I'm sorry to hear it.

Unfortunately, these coffins are not for sale.

Oh, no, sir.

I wanted only to know when work was to resume.

Oh, don't worry, miss.

If your brother is well by Sunday.

When you are done, call me on my telephone in Richmond.

My family will be so relieved.

Thank you so much.

I must go tell them right away.

Thank you.

Excuse me, sir.

Where to, milord?

Richmond. Quick about it.

Now where, Miss Rojas?

Follow that carriage.

Of course I can show you a telephone, Mr. Holmes.

And while you're here this visit, as always,

I can introduce you to some of the Yard's

newest crime-fighting innovations

from our advanced scientific division.

Oh, for example...

Though they're not exactly new, and there are already quite

a few on the streets, but...

One day, sir, electric lights will replace gas lamps

with a brilliance you can only imagine,

banishing the darkness of night and keeping the

criminals at bay.

Or making it easier for them to see their victims,

Detective Swann.

And look at this, samples from the pen

of every known blackmailer and swindler in the land.

We are almost at a point where we can put a name

to a criminal by his penmanship alone.

Well, let's hope these criminals remain ignorant

of the typewriter.

And, thanks to the work of Mr. E.R.

Henry and several foreigners,

the science division is in the midst of developing an index

that can create, capture and enlarge finger marks,

since no two are alike.

Well, you must remind me to invest in glove making.

Now, Detective Swann, fascinating as this tour has been,

it is telephony that I wish to study.

Right. And you are in luck, Mr. Holmes,

for it has proven such a boon to policing

that we have not one, but four telephones in our headquarters.

Here's one of them.

I had hoped to see a working model.

Certainly. I'll take you to Chief

Inspector Whitlock's office.

And may I say, sir, how admirable it is

that a gentleman of your year still seeks to remain au

courant with innovation.

It is difficult to find people with such a lively curiosity

in their late middle age.

Detective, this sort of praise is usually reserved

for one's eulogy.

Oh, heartfelt, sir.

You can be sure.

Oh, this way.

Telephones are upstairs.

You could try our new elevator.

This way, Mr. Holmes.

I hate that blasted contraption.

Telephones serve no useful purpose in detection.

Take my rescue of the American ambassador's daughter.

Oh, that was you?

Your public modesty is remarkable.

We have yet to release the news, but the coachman

who kidnapped the girl has done the decent thing

and hanged himself in a cell.

Case closed.

All without the use of a telephone.

Case closed.

So you also recovered the ambassador's stolen jewels?

Not yet, no.

But the culprit had very little time to dispose of them.

I am personally taking over this investigation,

so I'm confident the jewels will be found.

Can I tell you anything else about telephones, Mr. Holmes?

Aside from Bullivant's complaints,

do you find them useful?

I do.

If a suspect flees London by rail, for example,

I can just call ahead and have officers present on the platform

before the wretch steps off the train.

Can I help right now?

No.

No, we're fine.

Thank you.

All without moving from my desk.

How convenient.

Perhaps I should have one installed for myself.

They're still quite expensive for use in a private residence.

In the pursuit of justice, I allow myself to be extravagant.

I've just come from wasting half the day visiting that

old reprobate Moriarty.

Had I been able to conduct the interview by telephone,

then I might have saved myself both the journey

and several hours in his loathsome company.

Moriarty. What did the villain

have to say for himself?

Oh, he was reciting some pathetic story

about his son Daniel, sent to Australia as a

juvenile offender in the '80s.

And now the young man has returned to London,

but has avoided visiting his father.

Yes. I saw a brief mention

of him two months ago.

Every day, the Home Office sent me a list

of potential revolutionaries, misfits, and former felons.

How I'm supposed to keep on top of it all, I'll never know.

And is Daniel Moriarty on that list?

Yes, changed his name to Michael Wylie,

whilst in Australia, and who could blame him for that?

Works as a clerk for some broker on the stock exchange.

Would you like him brought in for questioning,

this young Moriarty?

No, no, I think it might be best to deal

with the matter unofficially.

And should you suddenly have an idea

as to the whereabouts of the ambassador's missing jewels?

I suppose I could just ring you.

Hmm? I wonder, Chief Inspector,

does one buy the telephone and all that comes

with it outright, or do they continue to

charge you by the call?

Both, of course.

Would you happen to have a statement I could examine

just so I could estimate my monthly costs?

I do have a copy, yes.

The bill doesn't have names in it, of course.

Just the numbers well dialed and the duration of each call.

Cruising at your leisure.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

Happy to help, Mr. Holmes.

You've proven useful in the past and may yet

do so in the future.

That's very thoughtful of you to say.

I shall take my leave and allow you, two gentlemen, to resume

your more important duties.

Au revoir.

Ah, Mr. Holmes.

Going down?

Yes.

Always a pleasure to see you, sir.

I could use your help regarding all

the newest advances in our mutual field of endeavor,

but only if I can depend on your discretion.

I wouldn't want your superiors to know

that we were in communication.

They might think I lost my touch.

I'm sure you've got some good years still left, sir,

And it would be my honor to assist you.

Stop.

Mr. Halligan, drive to the nearest telegraph office

and send a message to Mr. Holmes.

Tell him that Lord Withersea It doesn't just own

the coffin factory, but it also has a

mansion in Richmond.

Amelia, I am Mr. Holmes's gentleman,

and not an errand boy.

Here, take these two sovereigns,

send a message, and after that, enjoy the finest chop

house you can find.

But hold on to the change.

My word, where did you come by two whole sovereigns?

Never mind, I will ponder that question

over a pork roast and all the trimmings.

But if you have not come to town in three hours,

I will return and wait outside the gate.

It was a bad experience with the hound many years back.

I think it would be safer if you came with me.

Don't worry, Mr. Halligan.

If it finds me, I know how to handle a dog.

I think Dr. Watson and Mrs. Hudson are being held here.

Mr. Holmes needs to know.

Urgently.

Now go get the message out and enjoy dinner.

Quiet!

Sit! Sit!

Stay. Stay.

Stay.

Stay.

It's been a while since I've had to assign you

boys such a complicated task.

I'm afraid it requires a bit of legwork.

Sure, I want you to gather what's

left of the Baker Street Irregulars

and search through all the usual haunts

of the clerks of the exchange for a young Australian,

newly arrived, age 25.

Goes by the name of Michael Wylie.

As you find him, you can have two shillings a piece.

Mr. Holmes, that'll take us all night and day.

We're not 11 anymore.

Another half a crown, but I need results by sundown tomorrow.

Something satisfactory, sir?

I hope so, Mrs. Halligan.

I'll be out for dinner.

Cab! Right.

Another half a crown each if you make sure I'm

not followed from this place.

Richmond, Lord Withersea's estate.

That's some distance, Governor.

It's on me way home.

Well, I'll double the fare, then you can wait

for me and bring me back.

For God's sake, man, drive.

This is an emergency.

Come on, boys.

Time to go.

Excuse me, sir.

Hold on a second there.

We'll only be two minutes.

Not even two minutes.

Honest to God, two minutes.

Please don't make any noise.

Sherlock Holmes sent me.

I'm here to help.

Just...

Just give me a second.

Don't make a sound.

Show me where they are.

We must find an eternal resting place

for our guests by tonight.

My wife and the other servants will be back

late tomorrow morning.

I'll dig a hole for them.

Add a deal of quicklime to hasten their journey.

Shame to waste the coffins, though.

They're worth less than they will be, a week or two hence.

O'Leary, did you open these caskets?

No, sir, I did not.

The lids have been forced.

Stand up.

Stand up.

Slowly.

Show me your hands.

One twitch, and I'll make room for you

in one of them coffins you open.

All right, then, my lady.

Who are you when you're at home?

My name doesn't matter.

Just the name of my mother.

Lucia Rojas.

Sorry, never heard of her.

She was another victim of the Red Thread.

Murdered by men like you.

Men like him, you mean.

How came you to be here?

How did you know where we were?

Too late for explanations, my lord.

She's already seen them.

And seen us.

Hold your fire.

First, I must call for instruction.

And you would do well to remember your place.

Yay.

Lords always giving orders.

From Ireland to India.

Go.

Now, before I lose my patience, take the dog with you

and put it in the kitchen and close the door.

I don't want it running in here again.

Now that our lordship is gone, my lady.

Perhaps we can think of a better way to get acquainted.

This is it.

Stop! Stop!

Stop!

You expected, sir?

Certainly hope not.

Stop, sir.

Are you of age?

I've heard quite enough about my age for one

day, thank you very much.

For your information, I've just turned...

...forty.

I have to say, sir, you don't look it.

Thank you.

Walk on!

Walk on!

I say, dear girl...

you all right?

H-He tried to --

There's no need to speak of it.

I understand.

Are you safe here?

Are we alone?

No. No.

The servants and the family are away,

but Withersea is in the house.

Front carriage.

The coffins.

I can't question them.

Still, they'll bother us no more.

I always carry a little flask of brandy for medicinal purposes.

It's a remarkable restorative.

Would you care to...

Now, I...

I understand these stables may seem impressive.

But might you wait for me here with your weapon at the ready?

Yes. But if you're going to confront Withersea,

I'm sorry.

It's okay.

Be careful, he's one of them.

Well, judging by Weams and Magott,

I think it's Withersea ought to be careful.

Where's Mr. Halligan?

He's finishing his dinner.

He'll be back in less than an hour.

Right.

Well.

Good work.

Very good work.

Sorry to put you in such grave danger.

Very sorry indeed.

Wait there.

Please hold. I'll try to connect you.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Pleasure to see you again.

Very good of you to say so, my lord.

I admit to a certain ignorance regarding the proper etiquette

in this situation.

But perhaps you could talk to me instead of your telephone.

Allow me to put the receiver down.

Please.

Don't move.

I am standing perfectly still.

Should have expected you, I suppose.

The girl in the stable is one of your spies?

Yes, she is.

And alive and well.

The same cannot be said of your confederate.

The world will little grieve his absence.

You, on the other hand?

Killing me would be a very bad idea, my lord.

Even for one who has made as many poor choices

as you have of late, the police are en route.

No, they're not.

But what would they find, Mr. Holmes?

When they finally appear, that remains to be seen.

If Watson and Mrs. Hudson are present and alive

and in good health, the authorities will find their

kidnappers dead in the stables and perhaps they could recover

the jewels stolen from the home of the American ambassador.

I could convince them that you are

ignorant of the entire scheme and your station

and former wealth might give them pause.

Former wealth, Mr. Holmes?

I do note without pleasure the faded spaces on your walls

where valued paintings used to hang

And your coat, which was fashionable four years ago,

has had its colors refreshed in places with ink.

And your tie is jagged along the edges from overuse.

And this rug on which I'm standing is pocked with scars.

Now, I know of only two vices that

can create such circumstances.

And since your face is unblemished,

your challenges would seem to do less with drink

and more to bad luck at cards.

Just so, Mr. Holmes.

Just so.

Gambling lured me into wagering my happiness,

and I lost.

Well, I beg you, my lord, roll the dice once more.

Bet on me.

Help rescue my friends, and all may yet be well.

Your friends are long gone from here, Mr. Holmes.

The red thread has them, and I cannot help you save them.

Strike back against the thread, sir.

Help me bring these criminals to justice.

My, but you entertain a high opinion of yourself, Mr. Holmes.

Bring them to justice.

You might as well try and sweep the sand from the Sahara,

or clear the oceans of salt.

You honestly have no idea what you're up against, do you?

This is no gang of pick pockets, sir.

The red thread represents the very industrialization of crime.

And they are preparing to commit the greatest offense ever

conceived by the human mind.

Or at least beyond your poor imagination.

No, I have a much better idea.

Killing me would be pointless.

Helping you would be worse.

Not only would it lead to my own execution, but that

of my wife and children.

Oh, yes.

They would not scruple even at that.

Believe me when I say it is impossible for you to escape.

No, Mr. Holmes.

It is you who cannot escape.

But I can and I will.

Farewell.

Oh, you look very well, considering.

Are you sure you won't need me this afternoon?

Uh, no.

Further investigation of the thread

awaits installation of my telephone.

In the meantime, I've started a new search

for a young rascal called Dan Moriarty,

also known as Michael Wylie.

Michael Wylie?

Yes.

It's an alias adopted by the son of a very dangerous criminal

whose father sometimes tries to kill me.

There's nothing to worry about.

The elder Moriarty is presently in prison and mostly harmless.

I'm Amelia Rojas.

I'm Michael Wylie.

And I'm very much in need of your help.

I'll wait for you tomorrow and every day after that

at Mrs. Bailey's Tea House on Park Road at 4 p.m.

We shall call this your monthly day off.

I want you to keep the money that Mr.

Halligan returned to you.

And find something completely unsuitable

on which to spend it.

Be free.

Do whatever you want.

Nice long walk will do you good.

Preferably along the park.

Stick to the most public areas possible.

In fact, don't go too far outside the neighborhood.

I'm glad I can do whatever I want.

Just stay safe, please.

It's very odd how concerns for your safety

suddenly affect my concentration.

Especially with people suggesting

we might be facing offenses beyond my imagination.

Oh, someone at the door.

I see my lessons in deduction have not been entirely wasted.

Out of deference to Mrs. Halligan's sensibilities,

if you could please leave by the servant's entrance.

I, um-- Yeah.

Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Holmes.

I appreciate it very much.

Good morning, ma'am.

I'll help you.

Hello, Mrs. Hudson.

I'm here on business with Sherlock Holmes.

Do you have an appointment?

Lady Violet.

My dear Mrs. Hudson, people make

appointments with me.

Ah, there you are, Sherlock.

How delightful to see you again.

How little your rooms have changed in the last 20 years.

And so lovely that your dear old landlady still guards the door.

And where is the loyal Dr. Watson?

On a walking tour of Italy.

And that was not Mrs. Hudson.

She's visiting her husband's family in

the Scottish Highlands.

That was her twin sister, Mrs. Halligan.

An uncanny likeness.

I half expected you might be helping the police

with this grisly affair in Richmond.

Oh? You haven't heard?

Lord Withersea killed his coachman and then himself.

And they found two more criminals in Withersea Coffins,

shot through the head in his stables.

Well, the case solves itself?

Certainly hope not.

Sensational murders could liven up the season,

which has been even duller than usual.

I came here straight from the American ambassador's residence.

I believe you know him.

We have been introduced.

His wife is most insistent on hiring away

one of your servants, a Miss Amelia Rojas as chaperone

for their daughter, Clara.

What have the ambassador's domestic arrangements

to do with you?

Since I was once presented at court,

I am sometimes enlisted to help young ladies

follow in my footsteps.

Clara Anderson is one of my protégées.

The Andersons paid my expenses to and from

the United States in order to prepare

their immature daughter, Clara, for her introduction to society.

I can't say exactly when that will be,

since the appropriate dates for balls are all spoken for,

but I will work something out.

For a fee, I suppose.

In terms of income, I am dependent on my younger brother,

whose generosity is even less pronounced

than his intelligence.

But back to your maid.

Should not Amelia have some say in this matter?

I don't see why.

I am much opposed to this movement of treating

one's servants as part of the household.

No. The only question is, would

she be aware of her place?

She is after all.

She is after all what?

An American.

They are famed for over-familiarity

and coarse manners.

I've known some to be little short of passionate,

which I always find very vulgar in a woman.

Well, if you deem Amelia too unpolished for polite society,

perhaps she should remain in my employ.

Why, Sherlock, where on earth did you come by this photograph?

Just look at them.

Cowboys, cutthroats, Indians, and sharpshooters.

And in the back row, us.

Oh, dear.

We were so young.

Oh, and there's that woman with whom you

became so enamored.

She was a designer, no?

I'll never forget you comparing her to da Vinci.

All her improbable inventions.

What was her name?

Little Pigeon.

Little dove.

She was, in fact, an accomplished engineer.

Oh, yes.

I remember now.

You wanted me to submit her designs

for some terrifying weapon, was it not?

To my father when he was running the Ministry of War.

You were quite keen on getting a working model constructed.

It was a souvenir, nothing more.

But it has bearing on my business, as

you must surely know.

Indeed, I suspect that's why you hired the girl

in the first place.

Is the picture out for her benefit?

How sentimental you have become.

The telegram I just handed you contains the

details of Amelia's birth.

Her mother, according to the Pinkertons, is none other

than the same little dove of whom we were speaking.

though she changed her name to Lucia Rojas.

And I note Emilia's unnamed father

is described as an explorer deceased.

Yes. Amelia said something like that to me.

Perhaps the girl was the offspring

of one of those whirlwind romances

for which theatrical types are so famous.

Born a mere 18 months after her mother departed from London.

18 months?

That's rather, uh...

Well, here.

Oh, keep it.

It's only the background information collected

by the Pinkertons.

There are no official documents, and I've copied

all the relevant details now.

Don't make a fuss over losing the girl's services

just because you were fond of her mother.

This new arrangement will improve her station in life

and is most definitely for the good of the country.

My regards to Dr. Watson and Mrs. Hudson.

If my mother said so, then I am your daughter.

18 months.