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So, can you use a gun?
I prefer fists. Who will I be fighting?
Our enemies.
Have you ever been to prison?
Why do you ask?
The terms you're willing to take.
What did you do?
My pals saw something in a shop window that I wanted.
So I drove into it.
It's called a smash and grab.
Yes, I know. I do read the papers.
It says here you've recently worked for a film actor.
Yes.
As his bodyguard?
Amongst other things.
But before that, in this bookshop...
Why did you leave there?
I didn't care for him.
And you're happy with this arrangement?
A book has his life. I have mine. It works.
I'm amazed more people don't do it.
I knew him.
Your father. I knew him before the war.
You knew him?
Jack?
No, this is... I can't... I can't...
Jack, where are you going?
But your previous employer trusted you?
Yes.
Despite your history?
Because of it.
Perhaps.
And should we trust you?
Well, I suppose you'll find out...
When the next assassin comes.
The End
Nora.
I never did it.
Never did what?
Made shillings out of ice and put them in the meter.
What's all this corrosion, then?
That's rust.
Yes, it is.
Cold, isn't it?
We could burn a few.
No, we couldn't.
Not even the Georgette Hayes?
No.
Really, Nora.
For someone so new to the pleasures of reading,
you're fast becoming a terrible snob.
What is it?
Feels quiet without him.
No.
God bless the waltz again.
And all who sail in her.
Oh, God.
Jesus.
Oh, bloody hell.
Do forgive me, my dear.
I seem to be in a state of advanced repression.
Oh, I had noticed, Victor.
Just stay there.
I'll fetch a cloth.
Yes.
Secret, sir.
Dunhill or capsule?
Sir?
Can we talk?
Thank you, sir.
Here.
Spit in.
Oh.
Please enjoy.
Not enough lemon juice.
Too much ice.
And I did not like the way you shook it.
Too violent.
Of course.
Excuse me.
They think I'm too violent.
It's a violent art.
Good thing I didn't waste any gin on them, then.
You're a quick learner.
I'm glad you've fallen on your feet.
I had no idea you'd be here.
We haven't seen you in weeks.
How are you?
Look.
I haven't got long.
What...
What...
What do you want?
Oh, Jack.
This is silly.
We miss you.
We both hoped you'd found a safe birth in Archangel Lane.
A home.
Booker me.
Well, our arrangement is unusual, I know.
But as I said to you, when we first met...
Love is where it falls.
Hmm.
And how does my father fit into all of that?
One of Mr Book's little dalliances, was he?
Well, Book needs to talk to you about your father properly.
Look, our marriage protects us both.
Don't we have the right to be happy?
Happy?
Well, gallivanting off into the night.
In with God knows who and you.
Give me that rock, Captain.
Is that the latest, is it?
Fellow with a moustache?
It's Captain Ornion before the war.
Oh.
Dreamboat of the officer's mess, was he?
Hmm.
Something like that.
Listing slightly now, though, eh?
Slotty!
You don't half pick'em.
Mrs Bug.
Well, we better not keep him waiting.
Excuse me.
Oh, come to my room and help me dry off.
Unwet, woman.
Give me the damn cloth.
Come on.
Get your ruddy hands off me.
I won't have it.
For shame.
Oh, dear, sir.
Oh, you've had a right mishap.
Who's this?
Wet trousers are against the dress code, you know?
This is the Walsingham.
So, why don't you go back to your room,
take the wet pants off and have a little lay down?
I have never been so insulted.
Sure you have been?
A fella like you.
Ah, Victor Orr.
My old friend.
I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?
That a girl can't take a joke.
Sit down.
Uh, can we have a couple of girls?
What do you call them?
Four serum sours.
For the two ladies.
For their royal highnesses, you men.
These are on me, ladies.
And may I say, you are looking superbly Balkan tonight.
I salute the house of Scutari.
Whichever commissar lives in it now.
Take a good look, Trotty.
That's what happens to you when you get dethroned by the Reds.
Oh!
Oh, dear.
Allow me.
So embarrassing.
I do apologize.
Not at all.
Not at all.
Look after the pennies,
and the pounds will look after themselves.
What?
I, er,
had a bit of luck on the horses.
You, er,
you know, Ascot?
Very well, sir.
How's the going?
Oh, er,
good to firm.
After this, shall we, er...
normally my favorite ellipsis,
but I just think we should call it a night now, Victor.
Oh, Trotty.
You're no fun anymore.
It's amazing how different things can look without the benefit of the blackout.
Here's to Joe Stalin's next stroke.
Tinkety-tonk.
Tinkety-tonk.
Victor!
Oh, there's a lot,
little blackout.
You're sick!
You're not looking for!"
ugg stitches
Seen
Ascot
เธฒเธข
This is a Deutschmark.
Yes.
This is Chinese.
Oh.
And this is a button.
It's a very nice button.
Nora, have you been taking shillings from this tin?
No.
Remind me, what's the price of a green penguin crime novel?
A shilling.
Ah.
That's better.
Ah.
Success.
Oh, it's you.
You ready to commit an affray, miss?
No, Sergeant.
She was just, um, browsing.
I hate to seem inquisitive, but why are you here?
There's a chap being killed at the walls in them.
Poisoned.
Dead in a pile of pound notes on the floor of the river bath.
Oh.
That's just our sort of thing.
Don't get too excited.
The inspector wants a book.
A G-book, Esquire.
There's some foreign royalty involved, it seems.
He says, uh, do you have anything on the Balkan rules of revenge?
Specifically, the canon of Skatari.
How too, too ridiculously obscure.
Do you have it?
Almost certainly.
Mm.
And, uh, 504, he says.
504.
Room with a view?
Well, it's all right for some, I suppose.
Mrs. Book's already checked in.
Why?
Oh, uh, she's one of the suspects.
Trouble in paradise, he says so.
Oh, what a beauty.
Yes.
Might be one of those clues.
We like those.
Do you mind?
Yes.
Do people really say, what's your poison when they're at the bar?
No idea.
I don't get out much.
What do you mean?
Look, we're at the well-singham.
So's he.
Oh, yeah.
Let's, uh, let's get him somewhere more private.
Yep.
Not the main entrance, please, Inspector.
I'm sorry we can't be more discreet.
May I suggest the service corridor?
Oh, yes.
Yes.
Thank you, Mr. Kind.
Uh, nothing to stop by reopening the bar tomorrow, I think.
Good evening, sir.
Evening.
You have a reservation?
Uh, no, my wife.
Your wife?
Mrs. Book.
Have you seen her?
I'm afraid she may be distressed.
No, Book.
Oh.
5-0-4, Freddie.
Uh, no, I'll keep this one.
What's happened, darling?
What's this about a corpse?
Why have I been scouring my stacks for books of Balkan blood feuds?
Oh, I'm not proud of myself.
There was champagne.
A date that races, riddle me re in the 2.30.
Cocktails, more cocktails than then.
Shorty, we live our own lives.
That was always the deal.
Self-flagellation is never helpful, and not nearly as much fun as someone doing it to you.
Who was he?
Victor.
Or.
Or.
With two R's.
Naval captain, married, had met him before.
In an air raid, 41.
He, uh, made a pass at me in...
In...
Where?
Please don't make me say the F word.
Foils.
Yes.
Oh, trotty.
I just fancied a good time.
Well, there's nothing wrong with that.
You turned out to be the most awful bore.
When is he now?
In the morgue.
Oh.
One last night on the tiles.
And there's something else.
Book.
Thank God you're here.
You ready?
For what?
To interview royalty.
It's a little irregular, isn't it?
I don't care.
They terrify me.
I'm not going in there alone.
Haven't you taken their fingerprints?
I've not got Morris to do that.
I may be a coward, but I'm not a fool.
I have our primary text.
The Canoon of Scutari.
Oh, no, no, no.
Looks expensive.
Will it pay for our suite, Inspector?
Oh, the late Captain had taken care of that, Mrs. Book.
You're in the room next to the princesses.
Oh, what are they like?
Oh, they're glamorous in a sort of disappointed and stateless kind of way.
Perhaps it's time I kept a closer eye on them.
And an ear, too.
I should use one of those little glasses they keep by the sink.
So, will this help us find he'd done it?
It's a book of customary laws for remote mountain communities without a magistrate or justice.
The village elders consult the text and then tell you how much reiki to provide for your daughter's wedding,
what to do if your bees escape and build a nest on your labor's land, that sort of thing.
And who you're allowed to kill if somebody kills your cousin.
Ah.
Well, what language did you think it was going to be in?
Well, we have three native speakers on the premises, but they're all suspect.
Who's the third?
Oh, he's a rather good-looking cocktail waiter.
Well, don't fret too much.
The dutiful Teutonic scholar did publish a translation of it in the German.
Oh, well, you certainly speak the German.
In his sleep sometimes.
So, where is this translation?
Nora's looking for it now.
It must be somewhere in the law section or social science or etiquette or propping open the door.
You said do something else?
Yes.
These princesses have been given gainful employment to one of the capital's dispossessed.
Oh, yes.
I know.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes.
I'll turn down the bedspread.
Sergeant Morris will be along soon to take a statement.
Yes, of course.
I'd be grateful, Mrs. Book, if you didn't leave the hotel.
It's perfectly all right, Inspector.
You have to do your duty.
I'm here to see their royal highnesses.
Enter.
Oh, dog.
Where is it?
I mean, straight-grained, Morocco-bound folio with a lot of academic monographs bound inside, slightly foxed according to the catalogue.
You're no help.
They're coming, they're scotari.
Oh!
What would I do without you?
Oh, please.
Time for a little chat, Mrs Book.
Poof.
I beg your pardon?
I apologize for it, that we have sunk so low. Remember the great banketing table through here, hmm? Chairs made with birch. As silvery as the snow on the mountaintops. Upholstered with dumb masks or so.
Oh, we've been in more awkward situations than this, haven't we, Inspector?
That we have book.
So, which is the policeman? You or this book?
Well, he's taking notes for me. Helping with the...
Uh, Pittman's shorthand. So useful.
Tall and red-headed. Like the poppies of our homeland.
I realize that this will be very difficult for you, your Royal Highnesses. Uh, but if there's any detail you can recall, however small, it may help us discover who killed Captain Awe.
That is easy. I killed him.
He did what?
It is true. I switched the glasses, he drank the poison meant for one of us. We have a routine, my sister and I, to cause a distraction.
I salute the house of Scutari. Whichever commissar lives in it now. Take a good look, Trotty. That's what happens to you if you get dethroned by the Reds.
Oh! Oh dear.
It's so embarrassing. I do apologize.
Not at all, not at all. Look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves, what?
It is a habit, a necessary precaution. Like this.
This was the third attempt on our life since we left New York. There was a steward on the Berengaria.
Can I turn over your room, Madame? So transparent.
And that Salvation Army woman outside the Opera, shaking her tin box.
She denied everything, of course.
Who do you think is trying to kill you?
The communists, of course.
Opera?
Um, but they already have your palaces, your estates.
Our summer house on the Adriatic. There is a lake there. When the rising sun touches it, it is like the blush.
In the spring, our country was proclaimed a people's republic. They want...
What's the expression? A big finish. Ha!
Hence the bodyguard.
And how are you finding him?
As he failed to prevent an attempt on our lives, I would say he has not covered himself in glory.
Don't the communists also have your other sister?
We do not speak of her.
Senille. Yes, the youngest. She renounced her title.
We do not speak of her. Red scum. She betrayed her birthright, her country, her family.
Take it.
Of course, if this does turn out to be the case, then your switching of the drinks will not be without consequence.
We are used to being pilloried. We will take whatever comes to us.
Right. Right.
Now then, in your statement, you said something about this murder being written about in the Canoon of Scutari.
What does that mean?
It means that the killing like this follows certain customary principles.
It means the first thing you must do is arrest that cocktail waiter.
Ismael Guzzili.
Guzzili.
Gu... Gu... Guzz... Guzzili.
Gu... Guzzili.
Gu... Guzzili.
Why?
He's from the mountains. These people know the rules of revenge. They are obsessed with them. You must arrest him.
And you must bring in any others on the staff.
Other... mountain men?
Yes.
Well, thank you so much. This has been most helpful.
So you will do as we say?
No, I will not.
Why?
Because, Princess, I am not your subject.
And in this country a man is innocent until proven guilty.
Whatever altitude he was born at.
Well, sometimes, Inspector, you make me proud to be from the gutter.
I never really thought of myself as a Republican.
Well, it's the war that changed the sort.
I never really thought of myself as a Jew.
You ever come here during the Blitz?
I had to let you in if there was a radon, even without a tie.
We used to come down to the lower bar.
It's known as the Fruit Cellar.
That was quite the mixed grill.
No.
Well, I can't go.
Check out housekeeping.
You can't change the town.
Hmm.
There's a lot back there.
you did nothing you're supposed to be my boyfriend and you did nothing what do you
expect me to do nothing is he the one from this morning yeah came at me in a silk dressing game
with everything pointed north his name is captain Victor or not anymore they already gave me a
warning what yeah apparently shouting at lecherous customers isn't the Walsingham way
I'll speak to mr. kind it was mr. kind who gave me the warning one more black mark on about my arse
I hate this place you know I was doing okay here at least I thought I was what's the bloody point
yeah I'm sorry you know my dad was right about you Ismael and I should have listened to him leave me
alone
what
I'm
oh
yeah
yeah
yeah
yeah
yeah
yeah
yeah
yeah
yeah
Careful, officer. My friend borrows his jazz mags from the maitre d'.
You can't shock me, sir.
I've been to the windmill theatre and seen those gents with the newspapers on their laps.
And brought a few into the station.
Been jazzing with this one, sir?
Oh no, that lot put me right off.
Oh, you hate your royal family, do you?
They're not my royal family. They've been nobody royal family since 1940.
Ever since they left us with that chap.
Hey, Marco, what was his name?
Mussolini, mate.
I knew you'd know, mate.
Right-o, sir. Confiscating this is evidence.
You enjoy this, don't you?
It's just work, sir. Keep your temper, eh?
I suppose I usually take all that aggression out on the ice cubes.
Book for Mr. Book.
Who?
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's Albania.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's Albania.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's Albania.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's Albania.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's the Canoon of Scutari.
It's Albania.
Mrs. Book's out of the picture.
You can't be certain of that, sir.
I've read a statement and I'm satisfied it's nothing to do with her.
But, sir...
I'm satisfied, Maurice.
Clear.
So, you think it was one of us?
I don't think anything yet.
Signor Barberini?
Okay, well, I've narrowed it down to two.
A royal member of the House of Scutari.
Nafia or Ruhia?
Right-o. Method?
Poison. Something slipped into the cocktail glass
after he tried it on with Edi Rattle.
That's the chamber maid, yes?
So where was she when Captain Orr coughed his last?
Gone already.
Motive?
Think of any reason why anyone would want to kill Captain Victor Orr?
Are you kidding?
That captain was always here with different women.
Usually in the same room.
504.
Really?
Mm-hmm.
City view.
Noiseless bed springs.
Duchess raid for favorite patrons.
And that captain has been coming here for years.
Usually once a week.
Without a squake.
You're very well informed.
No secrets at the Walsingham, sir.
We see all the dirty there.
Because we have to clean it.
Some might say, Mr. G-g-gazooley,
that it's the duty of a grand hotel
to make sure that the private life of a guest remains private.
And some might say, Inspector,
that in a grand hotel,
people are usually at it like cod in a bucket.
So it's a crime of passion then?
No.
I reckon the captain was something in intelligence.
During the war.
How do you know that?
They're a type.
Friendly, but tell you nothing.
With a drink,
they'll always have what the other person's having.
So why would the princesses want to kill a British spy?
Because British intelligence handed over Scutari
to the communist partisans.
And the captain recognized the princesses.
Who are they?
Should I know them?
Balkans.
Same to you.
Hmm.
Now, Fia and Ruhia,
princesses of the royal house of Scutari,
composed by the communists
and now drifting around the world like Flotsam.
Very glamorous, Flotsam.
Wasn't there a scandal?
They did a flit
and the bullion from the National Bank
somehow found its way into their hatboxes.
Something of the sort.
And?
They're drifting our way.
Or your way, to be precise.
Oh, I see.
In the market for a set of dictionaries, huh?
They're staying at the Walsingham,
just down the road from you.
And, uh,
there have been letters.
Threats.
Vicious ones.
You should speak to the post office, then.
We'd be ever so grateful
if you just...
kept an eye on them.
I told you.
You're just a bookseller.
An item.
I reminded you
that we helped find young Jack.
It wasn't easy, you know.
I...
Oh.
It's you.
It's me.
Taff, or...
you know?
I don't mention it.
Mm.
So, does that happen a lot then, does it?
Comes with a job, doesn't it?
Can I do you now, sir?
Mm.
I wouldn't have killed him for it, though.
Somebody did.
Yeah.
So...
Which side are you on?
Sorry?
Which side are you on?
Well, what are the options?
Well...
There's the management in this hotel
who...
treat their staff like muck
and...
give a girl a mouthful
just for standing up for herself.
Right.
Then there's the workers.
Okay, well...
the workers, then.
Nice to hear your expression of solidarity, brother.
But it's...
deeds not words that count.
Don't you think?
Right.
So why don't you go down there
to that taxi stand?
Get me a nice cup of Bovril.
I can't.
Maybe later.
I just gotta get back.
To their royal bloody highnesses.
Afraid so.
How does it feel?
Working for those parasites?
Parasites.
Is that what they are?
Well, what would you call them?
Sad.
I suppose.
Yeah.
A bit sad.
Well...
Speaking for myself...
I'd line them up.
Shoot the boogers.
I can say a proper hello to you now, Edmundkind.
Good evening.
I can say a proper hello to you now, Edmundkind.
Good evening.
More than kind, I used to say.
Oh, well, that's too kind.
They closed it, you know, the lower bar.
The fruit cellar.
Oh, what a shame.
Yes, for redecoration.
Though when the work will actually start, I don't know.
It seems they prefer it mothballed, the management.
You mean it's all still there, the mural and everything?
Oh, yes.
Well, you could take a look, if you'd like.
I should really be getting back upstairs.
Of course.
I suppose a little peep wouldn't hurt.
Well, the question is, well, the lights work.
I don't remember there being any.
You never turn them on.
Blackhead, I suppose.
I know, they were just terribly unfloattering.
Yes, you're right.
Let's turn them off.
Just a soup song.
These walls could talk.
Kim Strang is dead.
Did you hear?
Kim Strang.
He used to keep his Max Factor in a gas mask box.
Well, he'd been in Egypt, hadn't he?
Had to keep that tan up.
What happened to him?
He walked into the sea at shore.
I'm sorry to say.
Somebody had his letters.
Dreadful, really.
Dreadful.
And you're very married, I see.
Very, very married.
Congratulations.
And thanks for your help with the, um, other matter.
Not at all.
What does Jack know?
That my wife and I have an arrangement,
as I knew his late father.
Nothing more.
He found that difficult enough to take,
ran out on us that very night.
Hmm.
Floated here.
Where he is gainfully employed, thanks to you.
And able to keep an eye on the other bodies
floating around the regal Scutari ones.
Why do you need to keep an eye on those?
Well, it's possible they were the intended victims.
And not the captain.
It's a working hypothesis.
Are you with the police now, Gabriel?
You always were a dark horse.
It makes up a substantial part of my charm.
Christ, isn't that dangerous?
I mean, one false step.
I am all too well aware of that, Edmund.
Although I do have a special letter from Churchill.
Still, you probably shouldn't be found
in a dimly lit basement bar with...
With a terribly handsome old friend.
No, perhaps not.
Top of the grid.
And the wall cinema isn't connected to the grid.
It has its own oil-powered generators.
They bring it in by the barrel.
Everything depends on it, even the plumbing.
And what's a grand hotel without power
and hot running water?
Well, I suppose it's just a big building
full of people who are rather cold
and rather hungry
and very, very rich.
I should get back.
Me too.
No big surprises on the poison front, Inspector.
No big surprises on the poison front, Inspector.
The deadly glass contains boring old hydrochloric acid.
Oh, it can't all be virtue, I say.
Virtue, I see.
The thumbprint, enough for an arrest.
Enough for a hanging, maybe.
Me?
Okay, thank you.
Hi.
Where's Edie Wretel?
Oh, um, I'll check.
Very good, eh?
Did the blessed sergeant get everything
he required from you, dear?
Well, I took him through it
in exhausting detail.
Where did you get to?
I mean, talking to the staff.
Oh, yes, very nice of you.
The ones who served you cocktails tonight.
Well, it was really only the younger one.
Guzili.
If you say so.
Apparently, he poured a whole round
down the sink, ice and fruit and all.
Could he have tampered with the second round?
Yes.
Nobody was looking because of the brouhaha.
Brouhaha?
Yes, one of the princesses dropped her reticule
that was loose change all over the floor.
Yes, I've heard about that.
And after the brouhaha?
Well, I dragged Victor back to the bar.
He made a toast.
And then there was the furore.
A brouhaha and then a furore?
It was very confusing.
Oh, and there was a woman.
A woman?
I've just remembered.
She handed me a cloth.
Like St. Veronica on the road to Calvary.
To mop up Victor Orr's trousers.
There was something about the look she gave me.
Poor Victor.
People were recoiling in pure horror.
It was burning his neck out, book.
You could hear it crackle.
I'm sorry you had a beastly time.
I just wanted to get Stinker and wake up somewhere
with clean sheets and three egg omelets.
I wanted something.
So I wanted it.
I do love you, Mrs. Book.
Ditto.
Book.
Yes.
We never really talk.
Talk?
But the arrangement.
What's to talk about?
Well, to see that all's well, that we're both okay.
All is well.
Look, you left the light on for me.
I could be making love in this.
In the dark.
Has anyone told Victor Orr's wife?
It's not like she was expecting him to come home.
Do you know who she is?
I don't really know who he was.
Still.
I suppose he did get as a knight here.
Isn't it marvelous?
No.
No clouds tonight.
Oh.
No way for the stars to hide.
We never really had a proper honeymoon, did we?
Bit of a diary clash.
The Luftwaffe had their hearts set on Eastbourne, too.
Beach was very pebbly, anyway.
And covered in barbed wire.
Doesn't worry you, though.
Disappoint you.
What?
The absence of landmarks.
Declarations.
Grand gestures.
Oh, no.
Look.
In fact, I'm going to make one now.
Please.
Let's order a bloody huge bottle of champagne.
I've got our papers.
Stamped and signed.
Tickets, too.
Can't you do anything discreetly, my love?
We have five minutes till it leaves.
Platform six.
We're going to be in Paris for breakfast.
There are no Nazis in Paris, but there are quests also.
It's all going to be fine.
I can't come with you, Buck.
For the same reason that you must leave.
It's so full here.
Can I see myself?
Uh, of course.
Oh, and I must return this to you, my...
My, my dear fellow.
I love a good book.
A beautiful book.
And how easy it is to picture myself on some winter evening in the country, lying with this particular book.
It moves me so much.
But I'm afraid I cannot keep it.
I know it's frailties.
And some books get burned, you know.
And I should not like to be responsible for the loss of this one.
Because it is so dear to me
That I know it by heart.
Henceforth,
Wherever thou mayst roam,
My blessing,
Like a line of light,
It's on the waters,
Day and night.
And like a beacon guards the home.
This is the last hour
We're going to pass on to the day of Paris
Of life next.
Ereal.
And as soon as possible,
Until then,
And the walking,
Ar Ukraine,
Being a friend,
He was going to have to believe that
That was the last place of the night of France.
hmm,
That was like,
That's coming too much to be ,
Of course,
The way please,
get beers,
e pluck too many.
Kinda hope to put the light in
Then you will see what comes your name in the hall,
I don't know.
Yes, you should read German letters.
Mr. Kind.
I'm doing the rounds, explaining about the situation.
Be so good as to move around a little less silently, it arouses suspicion.
Forgive me, Your Royal Highness. It's my training, you see.
It's mine too.
An engineer is investigating. I do apologize for any inconvenience.
We are accustomed to hardship.
What are you carrying? Show me.
This is the Canoon. The Canoon of Scutari. Why do you have this?
I'm taking it to Mr. Book, in the next room. He's helping the police.
This is most interesting. Continue.
Well, he's a sort of expert witness, and he's staying here with his wife, who I believe...
I meant, continue on your way.
Good night.
Oh, I thought you were a bottle of mighty spiriting.
A book for Mr. Book.
What is it, dear?
It's that book you wanted.
Oh, very good.
The lights were on the blink up here.
An engineer is investigating. I do apologize for any inconvenience.
Is there anything more I can do for you?
Well, tracking down our champagne would be nice.
Of course.
Extraordinary man. Smells nice, though.
Gardenia. Capital. Just what we need.
They're taking their time with that champagne, aren't they?
I think they're having trouble below with the generators.
You don't need champagne, do you, Book?
Just anything with footnotes.
And a bibliography.
And maybe an erratum slip.
I used to love this place, you know.
In the war, the rooms were cheap.
35 shillings a night.
Well, the ones nearest the V2s, anyway.
Always plenty of life down in the bar.
A bit too much, sometimes.
And now the Walsingham is listing.
Like an old ship.
Well, I'd like to smash a bottle against it.
Hm.
Ugh.
Let me tell the story of an old lady fair, standing sentinel across the years in the city's
bonny square.
Let me tell the story of the journey down to hell from the dear, dilapidated Walsingham
Hotel.
Some came to stay, to rest, to play.
Some came to labor every day.
Some came to sound the passing bell for the dear old Walsingham Hotel.
But who killed Captain Victor Orr?
Princess, waiter, maid, or more?
Who came to sound the final bell for the dear old Walsingham Hotel?
Well then, that's that.
What was that?
Edith!
Edith!
Are you okay?
Edith!
Edith!
Oh, nein!
One more step and all!
Oh, my God.
I don't know.
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