All language subtitles for Miss.Scarlet.and.the.Duke.S05E01.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-MADSKY.Hi

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[people chatting]

[horse neighs]
POLICEMAN: You got it?

I'm not being unreasonable.

I just don't like him.

Yes, you've said.

And it's not just
cause he took my job.

Charlie, at risk of
repeating myself,

it wasn't officially your
job. You were only...

Acting Detective Inspector,
yeah, yeah, I know.

It's got nothing
to do with that.

Really?

I'm allowed to dislike
people, you know.

[police whistle blowing]

[hooves clopping]
[carriage rumbling]

Especially when
they take my job.

[dramatic music]

POLICEMAN: Morning, Inspector.

Good morning.

- Are we ready?
- Yes, Inspector Blake.

All right, let's
go. [dramatic music]

[loud banging]

Police! Open the door!

Go on then.

Wait.

[handle creaks]

Always best to check.

[gun cocks]

Spread out.

Two men to a room.

OFFICER: Here we go, let's
go in there. Let's go.

I don't care what you say,
I think he's impressive.

Course you do.

Did you know he spent two years

in Hong Kong?

He speaks fluent Mandarin.

Oh, and that'll come in useful.

And I believe he's served
in many different parts

- of the world. And...
- Stop.

What is it?

Nothing.

I just want you to stop talking.

Now, come on you lot, hurry up.

Stop faffing about
and keep looking.

[police chattering]

PHELPS: Mind yourself, Patrick.

Why don't you do as you're told?

[footsteps approaching]

[police chatting]

[suspenseful music]

[rumbling, creaking]

We've searched
the premises, Sir.

I'm afraid we can find no one...

Shh.

[creaking continues]

[knocking with poker]

[hollow banging]

[suspenseful music continues]

[tense music]

[lock clicks]

[whispers] Wait here.

[door creaks]

[eerie whooshing]

[staircase creaking]

[dramatic crescendo]

[creaking]

Police, stop where you are!

[gun disarms]

Miss Scarlet.

[mysterious music]

Inspector Blake.

I can explain.

[theme music]

[background chatter]
[hooves clopping distantly]

Seal off the front of the
building and send word

for the photographer.

POLICEMAN: Yes, Sir.

So, can I explain myself now?

I don't know. Can you?

Before I begin, I'd like
you to keep an open mind.

What I'm about to tell you
will help you solve the murder.

Miss Scarlet...

[chair bangs] we've
known each other

for less than two
weeks, and in that brief

period of time, I have
made it abundantly clear

that I do not need your help.

Really?

So, you notice that
the victim's body

is in the second stage of
rigor mortis, suggesting...

A time of death between
two o'clock and six o'clock

this morning, yes, I noticed.

And the lack of defence
wounds on his arms?

Suggest a sudden attack rather
than a prolonged struggle,

this I already know.

What I don't know is how you

ended up in a locked room

with a dead man.

It's... complicated.

Eliza Scarlet, I'm arresting
you on suspicion of murder.

All right, all right.
It's not that complicated.

[suspenseful music]

I know his name.

The dead man.

And I don't think you do.

I thought not. I also know

who put that knife in his chest

and will gladly tell
you here and now,

but if you insist
on wasting time

by taking me to Scotland Yard,

logging my arrest with
the duty sergeant,

putting me in a cell
until you can find

an available interview room,

then please be my guest.

[chair bangs loudly]

Start at the beginning,
every detail,

no matter how small.

It all began a month ago.

This is before you'd taken
up your current position.

[mysterious music]
[street chatter]

Things had been going
well for my agency,

both in terms of quantity
and quality of cases.

Extremely well, actually.

As such, I was able to
rehire a former associate,

a chartered accountant
with an unrivaled knowledge

of civil and criminal law.

My esteemed colleague,
Mr. Clarence Pettigrew,

alongside a variety
of private clients,

we'd also been enjoying the
patronage of Scotland Yard,

thanks to an
ongoing relationship

with Detective Phelps.

Miss Scarlet, Clarence!

I do hope I'm not interrupting,

but I require your help
on a most intriguing case.

One that is tailor-made for
your extraordinary talent.

- Stop right there.
- What?

I'm quite sure Detective Phelps

has never been that
polite to anyone.

Not even his own mother.

And as for your...
esteemed colleague,

Mr. Clarence Pettigrew,
he's a convicted felon

who served 18 months for fraud.

I believe everyone
deserves a second chance.

As do I.

So, please, begin
again, and this time

with the actual truth.

Not some version of it
designed to paint you

in a favorable light.

I resent the accusation.

Mm. [upbeat music]

Very well. Although,
for the record,

Mr. Pettigrew and
I were at work,

and we did receive a visit

from Detective Phelps.

Although I may have overplayed
the lightness of his mood.

[door opens] Right,
shut up and listen.

I don't want to be here
any longer than I have to.

I've got five men off sick,
twice the normal caseload,

and I've not slept in
a week cause my missus

has just given birth.

- Again.
- May I offer my congratulations?

Only if you want a slap.

This is yours, if you
want it. [file bangs]

[light music]

Er, you... you wish to hire us?

If you ask me, it's
a wild goose chase.

Total waste of time.

But it's one more thing
to get off my desk.

[door opens]

[door bangs shut]

[street chatter]
[hooves clopping]

MAN: How much is this?

Lord Spencer Bowden,
4th Earl of Cheshire.

He went missing
some 12 years ago

after being accused of
murdering his lover.

I remember this.

This was quite the scandal

at the time.

The newspapers ran with it

for weeks.

She was his housemaid,

wasn't she?

He stabbed her
through the heart.

Warrants were issued
for his arrest,

but he was never found.

Well, a man with
that kind of money

can disappear off the
face of the earth.

There have been sightings of him

from Edinburgh

to Cornwall.

Even the West Indies and Canada,

but nothing that has resulted

- in an arrest.
- So, what's changed?

Well, apparently he's
been spotted again.

- This time in London.
- Well, if he's evaded capture

this long, he may well
be moving his money

across international borders.

I'll see if I can find a trail.

I'll pay a visit
to our eyewitness,

Amelia Bowden.

His wife?

His daughter.

DRIVER: Here!
[hooves clopping]

I had hoped to receive a visit

from the police themselves.

My agency has been
hired by Scotland Yard.

But I... I assure you we work

to the highest
professional standards.

I suppose you
cannot do any worse.

It has been 12 years
since Edith was murdered,

and the police have still
not found my father.

Edith was your housemaid?

I'm sure you know the
whole depraved story...

just like the rest of the world.

Do you believe your
father's guilty?

I do.

That man caused so much pain
to so many. [voice quavers]

His actions drove my poor
mother to an early grave.

God rest her soul.
[voice cracks]

Forgive me.

There's no need to
apologize, Miss Bowden.

You filed a report with
the police a few days ago

saying that you'd
seen your father?

It was Sunday morning.

I was leaving the house

to attend a sermon at St. Luke's

when I saw him...

right across the street.
[suspenseful music]

Our eyes met for a brief moment.

I was overcome by... anger,

and I cannot deny a little fear.

I came inside to regain
my composure, but...

when I looked again from
the drawing room window,

he had gone.

And you're sure it was him?

He is my father, Miss
Scarlet, I am sure.

And have you had any
other contact with him

in the time that
he's been missing?

There have been letters

asking for money,

but they were fraudulent.

Pretending to be my father.

His notoriety is widespread,

as is the shame he has
brought on our family.

He made us pariahs,

destroyed our name,
our reputation.

You must find him...

before he does more harm.

[dramatic music]

[hooves clopping]
[carriage rumbling]

[door opens] [sighs]

[tray clatters]

I thought shepherd's
pie for tea.

[fire crackling]

Fine, I'll talk to myself, then.

How are you, Ivy? A
bit tired, actually.

Been on my feet all day,
but thanks for asking.

Sorry.

I was miles away.

Yes, I gathered that.

So, shepherd's pie?

Mmm...

You're more than welcome

to make something else.

That'd be lovely, thank you.

Oh, I almost forgot.

This came for you today.

Postmark's from New York.

[soft music]

Well, aren't you
going to read it?

Yes.

In private.

[laughs]

Very well.

Mm.

[envelope tearing]

I fail to see the
relevance of this.

Well, you... you asked
for every detail.

Every detail
related to the case.

What has this letter
to do with anything?

Well, the letter was
from your predecessor,

Inspector Wellington.

In it, he stated that he'd been

offered a permanent position

in the New York
Police Department,

and with it a promotion

to superintendent.

A position he'd never be
offered in London, so...

it was good news, indeed.

Why was he writing to you?

Well, we're, um...

we're old friends,

which was why I was
so pleased for him.

In fact, I was more
than pleased for him.

I was delighted.

I don't believe you.

[light music]

Well, Inspector Wellington
and I are old friends.

Of course, I was
delighted for him.

I don't believe
you know anything

that can help with
this investigation.

I...

I think you're
stalling for time.

I'm not entirely
sure why... yet.

Right, I'm taking you to
Scotland Yard. We'll start with

obstruction of justice
and go from there.

The dead man's name
is Jonathan Harbourne.

He lives at 215 Cable Street.

If you send someone
to that address,

you'll find proof
of his identity.

215 Cable Street?

- Hmm.
- BLAKE: Detective Fitzroy.

Sir.

I need you to go
straight to this address.

- Yes, Sir.
- Take Irwin and Phelps with you

and report back immediately
with your findings.

Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.

- [sighs]
- IVY: Oh, Lizzie.

[dramatic music]

I wish there was
something I could say

to make you feel better.

[sniffling]

There's... there's
nothing to say.

He's not coming back.

Oh.

Do you remember what
your father used to say?

Only hopeless people cry.

And you're not
without hope, Lizzie.

You've a whole
future ahead of you.

He always used to say that,

no more tears or
there'd be no supper.

[laughs] But there always was.

- [sobbing]
- Oh, Lizzie.

Come.

- [sobbing]
- Shh.

- [sighs deeply]
- Shh.

Shh. [fire crackling]

[street chatter]
[hooves clopping]

[melancholic music]

[door opens]

Oh. [door closes]

Clarence, I thought
you had the day off.

Ah, uh, yes, I... I
had, uh, planned to,

but, uh, circumstances change,

as they are wont
to do. [chuckles]

Is everything all right?

I heard the news about
Inspector Wellington,

and, um, I thought
that today of all days

was not the time for you
to be in the office alone.

Ivy's spoken to you.

- Clarence, I'm perfectly well...
- Yes, yes, yes.

You always say that
you are fine, but...

we both know that
that is not true.

Uh, and so, I've given this
a great deal of thought,

and it is my belief that
at this moment in time

company may be of some
degree of comfort to you.

Quiet, possibly
even silent company,

since I am a man
who is at a loss

to know what to say
when it comes to

matters of the heart.

In... in fact, I... I'm
rather out of my depth

even expressing this much.

Well... in that case,
thank you, Clarence.

And there was something I
wanted to talk to you about.

Oh, God.

It's not that.

[relieved sigh]

It's about Detective Phelps.

He hired us to work
the Bowden case,

but he was only over a
temporary appointment.

And now that
Inspector Wellington

will not be returning,
it's my belief

that Charlie Phelps
will be replaced by

- a permanent candidate.
- And you worry that the new man

will take us off the case?

Exactly.

So, we need to find out

who's going to replace Phelps,

but who might know that?

I can think of one
person. [upbeat music]

[people chattering, shouting]

[jail door squeaks, clangs]

Still can't believe you're
allowed to use this office.

Well, I'm not exactly allowed.

In fact, the
Governor has no idea.

It's through a little
financial arrangement

I have with a warden here.

You have a warden in your pay?

You could go to prison
for that, Patrick.

So, how are you, Eliza?

I'm here because

I need your brain.

Hmm. My brain is always
at your disposal.

You know that.

Inspector Wellington won't
be returning from New York.

So I hear.

And I, uh, well...
[drawer unlocks, opens]

I wish to know who will be

his permanent replacement?

I doubt very much
it'll be Phelps.

[glasses clink] Your
instincts are correct.

Hmm? [cork pops]

The smart money is on
a detective inspector

from Bristol...
[whiskey pouring]

by the name of Alexander
Blake. [cork squeaks]

Not too much is known about him,

but he has an
excellent reputation.

Hard-working. Honest.

All the worst
things a man can be.

He's ex-army... officer,

served all around the Empire.

Oh, and there's something else.

- Something you will not like.
- Go on.

He doesn't use
private detectives.

He halved the crime
rate in Bristol

just by using his own men.

Saved the city a fortune,
so, you can see why

the commissioner
likes him. Still...

if anyone can change his mind...

Well, I'll see what I can do.

That was most helpful.
Thank you, Patrick.

Mm.

He asked you to join
him in New York,

didn't he?

[melancholic music]
Your inspector.

But if you'd gone, it would
have been as his wife.

A superintendent
can't have a wife

who's a private detective.

You'd have been forced
to give up everything

you've worked so hard for.

If you know so much,
why are you in prison?

[scoffs ironically]

It's a question I
ask myself every day.

[Eliza sighs]

I sent Detective Fitzroy
to the dead man's house.

Is there anyone else
at those premises

that could pose a threat?

No.

Not that I'm aware of.

You were telling me of
Inspector Wellington's departure

and how it connects
to this case?

I was, uh, contracted
by Detective Phelps

to find the fugitive,
Lord Bowden,

and then when Detective
Phelps was replaced by you,

I wished to know if that
contract was still valid,

which is why I came to
see you at Scotland Yard.

I assume you remember?
[upbeat music]

Oh, I remember.

[church bell ringing]
[hooves clopping]

[crows cawing]

- Oh, good morning, Eliza.
- Good morning.

I trust you are well?

- I'm quite well, thank you.
- What brings you here?

Oh, I wish to see
Inspector Blake.

I believe he begins work today.

Yes, that's correct.

Um, just before you go in...

Oliver, please.

I will miss
Inspector Wellington.

I will miss him very much,
as I'm sure you will too.

But... he's made his
decision to stay in New York

and we must respect that.

I thank you for your
kindness, but as I said,

I'm... I'm quite well.

I... I was actually
just going to say, In...

Inspector Blake is in
a different office.

You'll find it upstairs
on the first floor.

Oh.

Er, well. [laughs] Thank you.

[playful music]

[chaotic shouting]

[people chattering]

[knocking on door]

Oh, um... Inspector
Blake, I presume.

[light music]

May I congratulate you

on your new position?

From what I hear,
it's well deserved.

And... you are?

My name's Miss Eliza Scarlet.

I've come to update you
on the Lord Bowden case.

I was hired by Scotland Yard to
investigate the recent sighting.

You work for a detective agency?

I own a detective agency.

And I thought this might
be a good opportunity

to outline the history of
my working relationship

with your predecessors.

In here are, uh,
numerous case reports,

letters of reference,

and, as you see,
newspaper clippings

showing the, uh, investigations
that I've helped to solve.

I'm afraid you're
wasting your time.

I do not engage the services

of private detectives.

Well, may I at least present
the progress I've made

on the Bowden case?

There is no need.

My officers will deal with it.

However, if you have a contract,

you will be paid for
your work so far.

But that is all.

Good day.

I'm sure it would take anyone

time to understand
the unique challenges

that this city presents, so...

while you're finding your feet,

why not turn to those
who've been working here

for some time?

That is a fair point,

and I will take it
under consideration.

Should I change my mind, I
will contact you immediately.

Are you just saying
that so that I leave?

Yes.

Miss...

Scarlet... as I've already said.

Miss Scarlet, I have found,
through bitter experience,

that private investigators
do not compare

to professional police officers.

I do not trust them,

I do not use them,

I do not need them.

It's not my
intention to be rude.

Yet you're doing a
wonderful job of it.

Please shut the
door on the way out.

[dramatic music]

[door closes]

Yes, as first visits go, I
must confess it was not ideal.

Not unless you planned to
irritate and insult me.

- I didn't insult you.
- My mistake, it must have been

the other female detective

I spoke to that day.

I assume there's a reason
you're telling me all this,

given I was present.

I severed your contract

so you were determined
to find a clue

that proved I'd
been short-sighted

and would be compelled
to rehire you

on the case?

Something like that.

Go on.

The day after we
met, I went to, uh,

visit Amelia Bowden again,

which is when I learned
about the break-in.

[jaunty music]

When did this happen?

Last night.

I came home to find the house

had been ransacked.

I have been waiting for
the police all morning,

but they are yet to
arrive. [sobbing]

What's been taken?

Oh, family silver, jewelry,

works of art, all gone.

He even took my
mother's wedding ring.

He?

[mysterious music]

My father.

This is why he came back.

He has no doubt run out of money

and now has to
resort to stealing

from his own flesh and blood.

Are you sure it was your father?

There is a safe in what
used to be his study.

It was opened using
the combination lock.

[sighs] You said you were out

at the time of the robbery.

Were your servants not at home?

These days I have only
a single housemaid.

She does not wish to
live on the premises.

She's superstitious.

My father committed murder
in the servant's bedroom.

[drunken chatter]

[hooves clopping]

[pub patrons chatting]

List of stolen items,

some, uh, family
silver, jewelry,

artwork by Gainsborough.

Hm.

Let's head back to the office.

Work out our next
steps. We need a plan.

There's nothing I
like more than a plan.

You and me both, Clarence.

That and a good to-do list.

Oh, yes. That too.

So, poor Bowden
needs money quickly.

We could, uh, make enquiries
at the less salubrious end

of the pawnshop market.

Poor Bowden won't
go to any pawnshop.

He needs serious money.

The pawnshop will offer you
a fifth of the face value,

and that's if you're lucky.

But there are places

he could get a lot more.

And you know of such a place?

I might, but... well,
it's not the kind of place

I'm used to going to personally.

I'm sure it'll be fine.
How bad can it be?

[upbeat music] [match lights]

CLARENCE: A client of Mr. Nash
told me about this place.

I didn't realize it
was quite so earthy.

There is a coded
message we need to give

in order to gain entry.

I think I can remember it.

You think?

Good evening.

I'm a friend of Wang Zhenglin,

and I have a gift
for his daughter.

[playful music]

[laughs, coins jangle]
Not his daughter.

His sister.

His aunt.

Uh, this should be enough
for the whole family.

Very fetching.

Shall we?

[people chattering]

It's what you might call
a specialist auction.

No questions asked
of buyers or sellers.

And the clientele have
some serious money.

If I were Lord Bowden,
this is where I'd come.

Even with the masks,
it's an awful risk

for him to show up in person.

Unless he's desperate.

Do you have a photograph?

No, not a recent one.

He's been gone for 12 years.

Makes a nice change from being
in the office, doesn't it?

I must confess I'm enjoying it

rather more than
I thought I would.

[gavel banging]

[loud chatter]

Shh, shh, shh.

Good evening, ladies
and gentlemen,

and thank you for
coming to what may be

our most intriguing
event for some time.

Let us begin with
lot number one.

[chatter] [gavel bangs]

Lot 14 is at £120.

Any more?

[gavel bangs] Sold for £120.

That's 14 lots. Still nothing.

What if Lord Bowden hasn't
even heard of this place?

If nothing turns up, maybe
we should go and talk

to the auctioneer,
see what he knows.

That's an excellent
idea, Clarence.

- Really?
- Hm.

Thank you, Eliza.

[clears throat] Next,
we come to lot 15,

an exquisite solid silver

Robert Kane carving set

with an array of jewelry

with verified artwork

from Mr. Thomas Gainsborough.

Lady Bowden said some
of the pieces stolen

were by Gainsborough,
this could be it.

Due to the unique
nature of these items,

the bidding will open at £600.

600.

Thank you, Sir.

Any more for 600?

605.

If he's here, he may
give himself away.

610.

615.

- AUCTIONEER: 615.
- Clarence.

- Is that him?
- I'm not sure,

but he does look familiar,

- even with the mask.
- AUCTIONEER: 625.

ELIZA: There's
something about him.

AUCTIONEER: Can we do any more?

- I can't put my finger on it.
- AUCTIONEER: Any more for 625?

640.

- AUCTIONEER: 640.
- ELIZA: There. See?

- See what exactly?
- He's involved in this,

- I can sense it.
- AUCTIONEER: Any more?

Watch his reaction when
the bidding goes up.

- 700.
- 700.

Any more? £700.

Any more on 700?

Going once.

Going twice.

- 750.
- What are you doing?

There, see.

A most generous offer
from the lady at the back.

750.

Do I hear 760?

May I ask a question?

Yes.

What happens if you win?

The bidding is at 750

from the lady at
the back. 750.

Going once.

Going twice.

[gavel bangs] Sold to
the lady at the back.

[applause] BIDDERS:
Well done, well done.

I take it you don't
have £750 on you?

[whispers] Not exactly.

[high tempo music, doors
bang] Police! Stop!

[whistles blowing]
[people shouting]

[man grunts]

[auctioneer grunting]

Stop!

[gun cocks] Who
the hell are you?

I could ask you
the same question.

[police whistle blows]

- No, no, no, please.
- OFFICER: Come on.

I can explain.

You're making a mistake. I'm
working for Scotland Yard.

[music concludes with drum roll]

I shouldn't be here.

Mm.

Put them in the wagon.

Take them to Scotland Yard.

Yes, Sir.

Seriously.

OFFICER: Sir!

Yes?

Miss Scarlet.

What are you doing here?

Well, the same as you, no doubt.

But I now have information

that's vital to this case.

Which is?

I just don't feel
inclined to share it.

Not unless you honor
our original agreement

and hire my agency.

- That's blackmail.
- That's business.

Not for you, it isn't.

[mysterious music]

The man who was here to
sell the stolen goods...

It wasn't Lord Bowden.

Did you see him?

Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn't.

[hooves clopping]

The man I saw run away
isn't any of these.

Are you sure?

Certain.

I did recognize him, I
just wish I could remember

from where.

You're persistent, Miss Scarlet,

I'll give you that.

Even your compliments
sound like insults.

It's quite a skill.

Can I ask you something?

Why don't I hire
private detectives?

I have had numerous
bad experiences

over the years.

I hired one firm who
were working for myself

and the criminals I
was investigating.

Another had found key evidence

and withheld it for weeks

to bump up their final fee.

I could give you
countless other examples,

but the point is

I do not respect the profession.

There are exceptions
in every line of work.

Such as yourself?

There's much about me
that you don't know.

I know enough.

And what have you gleaned

from the two occasions

that we've met?

That you're ambitious
and determined.

You'd have to be
to get this far.

You believe the ends
justify the means,

and as such you're
willing to bend the truth

to get what you want.

[scoffs]

And on the frequent occasions

when you do lie,

you give yourself away

with a distinct tell.

I do not have a tell.

You affect a frown
before you speak.

As if you were lost in thought.

Searching for the
right turn of phrase,

when in fact you know exactly

what it is you're going to say.

Interesting.

Wrong.

But interesting.

Anything else?

The pockets on the
side of your dress,

you use them as a
psychological crutch.

When you stand with
your hands inside them

as a man might,

it projects an outer confidence,

which often you do not
feel on the inside.

[dramatic music]

Hmm.

You'll allow me
to reply in kind?

Be my guest.

You moved your office
from downstairs.

It's a simple but effective
show of dominance,

making people have to
walk upstairs to see you.

Dominance?

Mr. Darwin would be impressed.

But sadly you're wrong. No, I...

I just prefer the
view from here.

You can see the
Thames and St. Paul's.

[laughs]

You have an impressive
array of classic novels.

Dickens, Hardy, Tolstoy.

From the pristine
condition of the covers,

I say that you don't
return to them often.

You read for self-improvement,
not for pleasure.

With one exception.

Treasure Island.

Clearly a favored tome,
suggesting a hidden desire for

adventure and escapism.

That's not mine.
[snatches book]

Have I offended in some way?

I don't think
anything I said was...

Go through the mug shots
again from the beginning.

You may have missed something.

But the man I saw isn't
in there, I'm certain.

Then we have no
further business.

Good night, Miss Scarlet.
[suspenseful music]

[door opens]

[door slams] [crow caws]

After the rather unceremonious
way you bid me good night,

I went back to my office
to consult the Bowden file.

I felt sure I was
missing something,

and, indeed, I was.

The man we were trying
to identify that night

is the same man who
lies dead upstairs

- with a knife in his heart.
- Jonathan Harbourne.

There's a reason why
I couldn't find him

amongst your mug shots.

He had no criminal record,

but now I know where
I've seen him before.

He was in the case file.

Jonathan Harbourne was
Lord Bowden's valet.

[mysterious music]

When Detective Fitzroy returns,

no doubt he'll confirm it.

There are photographs
and correspondence

between the two men
at Harbourne's house.

But, um, in the meantime,

I imagine you'd like to
know who the killer is.

[uptempo music]

Shall we?

Come along.

After the murder
of their housemaid,

Lord Bowden fled,

taking most of his
fortune with him.

His wife and daughter
were forced to dismiss

most of their
servants, including...

Jonathan Harbourne.

How did you know he was here?

Well, my colleague, Clarence,

was also at the
underground auction

when you carried out your raid.

Argh! All right, all right.

[punches] [police
whistles blowing]

[men grunting, struggling]

MISS SCARLET: He was able
to escape by a side exit.

And when he found
himself outside,

he saw Jonathan
Harbourne running off.

[suspenseful music]

He followed him to that
address at Cable Street.

The same address that
I gave you earlier.

On searching that
property, we found details

of this abandoned building.

I assume it was his backup plan,

should he need
somewhere to hide.

All of which led us here...

where we found him dead.

The knife... [dramatic music]

you will have noticed,
is made of pure silver.

The hallmark on the side reads,

City of London, 1836,

Robert Kane, a
well-renowned silversmith.

Does that hallmark
sound familiar to you?

It matches the dining
set stolen from

the Bowden residence.

Stolen items that
were never sold,

thanks to the raid
you carried out

at the auction.

The silver dining
set, the jewelry,

everything was returned
to its original owner.

Amelia Bowden.

She arranged for Harbourne
to burgle her house.

Presumably he'd be paid
from the auction proceeds.

I can only imagine that
they fell out somehow.

Perhaps he was blackmailing her.

But it was Amelia Bowden

who thrust that
knife into his chest.

I don't believe that her father
had anything to do with this.

I suspect she used his
name as a smokescreen

to hide her own involvement.

My colleague, Clarence, left
here shortly before you arrived.

He hired two associates
who are more versed

in the physical side
of our business,

and by now they will have

apprehended Miss Bowden

and taken her to Scotland Yard.

In fact, they may
even be there already,

so, we should make our
way back there now.

I assume you have
a carriage outside?

Amelia Bowden is indeed
at Scotland Yard, but...

but she did not arrive
with your Mr. Pettigrew.

I arrested her at six
o'clock this morning,

two hours before I came here.

What?

Allow me to explain.

[chaotic shouting]
OFFICER: Move!

BLAKE: After the
raid on the auction,

the question was who
to interview first.

MAN: Thank you, Sergeant.

BLAKE: As I'm sure you
know, some men will not talk

no matter what they're
threatened with.

You can waste hours
and days only to be met

with a wall of silence.

But there are others
who would sell

their own children

to stay out of prison.

[whispers] I shouldn't be here.

[people shouting]

Him.

I often find the way
to make people talk

is to do very little
talking myself.

I don't know anything
about Lord Bowden.

All... all... all the sellers
at the auction are anonymous.

Er, well, we give them
numbers, of course, so...

So, all I know is the man
you're looking for is number 15.

I wish I could be more...
more helpful, I really do,

but that... that's all I know.

I suppose there are
some people I could ask.

I will make some inquiries

and come back next week.

In a few days?

Tomorrow night?

That would be most appreciated.

Uh, all right,
but... but not here.

My life would not
be worth living

if people knew I was a snitch.

[laughter] [hooves clopping]

[people chatting]

BLAKE: Mr. Grint
arranged to meet me

the following night in
a local public house,

where the beer is most
certainly watered down.

He had made contact with
the man in question.

You sure it was him?

Where did you find him?

No, he found me.

He... he wanted to know
when the next auction was.

He said he had more
things to sell.

So, I told him in a month or so.

Did he give a name?

No, but...

whilst we were talking,

we were interrupted by a
lady. [suspenseful music]

Well-spoken, rich.

She said she'd followed him.

She was quite upset and angry,

but they didn't want to...
they didn't want to speak

in front of me, so
they went outside.

But I followed them.

And?

And they were arguing.

She accused him of
stealing her things

and demanded them back.

She said the agreement was off.

Well, the man just laughed

and said that he was
going to sell them,

whether she liked it or not.

But this time, he was gon...

he was gonna keep all
the money to himself,

and there was nothing
she could do about it.

Can you describe this woman?

[mug clinks on table]

It was a Amelia Bowden.

Which also matched up with
my other line of inquiry.

One which I'm certain
your Mr. Pettigrew

would have discovered.

What, that she recently renewed

her insurance policy
for three times

the previous value?

The police raid on the
auction meant Miss Bowden

received all her
possessions back,

but Harbourne wasn't happy

that their deal hadn't
come to fruition,

so, he stole them from her
again to sell elsewhere.

And like he said,
this time he intended

to keep all the money himself.

But Miss Bowden got her revenge.

We raided her house at dawn.

[officers chatting] BLAKE:
The housemaid told us

she'd been out late last night

and had come back in
an agitated state.

[tense music]

Sir.

BLAKE: A pair of bloodied gloves

were found at her property.

She was arrested and taken
straight to Scotland Yard.

How did you find out
about this place?

She confessed?

Hasn't said a word.

There's a hackney carriage stand

around the corner from her home.

We spoke to a driver

who picked her up
late last night.

He told us about this address.

Miss Bowden knew Harbourne used
this place to hide stolen goods,

so, she came here
to find him and...

Well, the rest you know.

I take it you closed
the door to the attic

to delay my finding you?

Well, I... I had hoped to
give Clarence a head start,

but now I realize it
was all a waste of time.

Not completely.

I didn't know the identity

of Jonathan Harbourne.

You'd have found
out soon enough.

Perhaps.

What happens now,
will I be charged

with obstruction of justice?

There will be no
charge... this time.

POLICEMAN: Sir.

Right, this side first, please.

Let me know if you
need more light.

There are details
on the murder weapon

that need to be clear.

If you wouldn't mind.

[melancholic music]

[hooves clopping]
[church bell ringing]

[door closes]

[people chattering]

[door opens]

[door closes]

Ivy?

[dramatic music]

Ivy?

[sighs heavily]

[dramatic music]

[sad music]

[door opens quietly]

[soft kiss]

[glasses clink]

[cork pops]

I see more of you now than I did

when I was a free man.

[whiskey pouring]

Surely you have
better places to be.

Sadly not.

[sighs] Well, I was
supposed to be playing poker

with a rather odd
fellow on D-block.

Although probably
best to cancel.

I'm not entirely sure
what he's in for.

I heard about the
Bowden investigation.

Is that what's troubling you?

[soft music]

There'll be other cases.

You'll get by, you always do.

I'm not interested
in getting by.

Getting by isn't
enough, not anymore.

It needs to have
been worthwhile.

What does?

All of it, Patrick.

If I have to live a
life alone, then...

I need to excel in
my chosen profession

and have some lasting success.

Otherwise, what has
it all been for?

I know what you're going to say.

- You do?
- Well, there are plenty of

married people with families

who are also lonely.

Well, I wasn't
going to say that,

but it is a valid point.

The journey to
success will always be

more fulfilling than
reaching the destination.

I wasn't going to
say that either,

but I really wish I had.

I probably shouldn't
think about it too much

'cause no one is
satisfied all the time.

I really do need to
start writing this down.

[laughs]

What were you
going to say, then?

That perhaps you
should set your sights

on short-term goals.

Such as?

Getting drunk and playing poker.

[upbeat music]

Is that the best
you have to offer?

You might win.

[glass clinks]

Only if you let me
shuffle the deck.

Are you insinuating that
I would cheat somehow?

Yes, Patrick. Yes, I am.

PATRICK: Hmm.

Oh.

[sighs]

[exhales]

[theme music]