Miss Scarlet

I'm running this London office now, and I can assure you things will pick up.

I happen to know that Mr. Nash's entire staff have deserted you.

Sometimes I do wonder...

If it's all worth it?

This expansion is crippling us.

Someone is going to get hurt.

FITZROY: It's Inspector Wellington.

He's been shot.

(laughing): William!

(groans): I need a drink.

(thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) IVY: Are you warm enough?

It can get a bit chilly in here.

WILLIAM: Yes, I'm perfectly comfortable, thank you.

IVY: I'll go set the fire.

WILLIAM: Ivy, will you please stop fussing?

IVY: I'm not fussing!

I'll go do you some bacon, eggs, and fried bread.

How does that sound?

Like I'm going to get extremely fat.

We need to build up your strength.

Yes, Ivy, you have been saying that every day for the past two weeks.

(sighs) I'm quite well now, thank you.

Well enough to go home.

(Eliza groans) I can't seem to find my bag, or my notebook, or my gloves.

Your gloves were in the dining room, your notebook by the kitchen sink, and your bag on the stairs, which I nearly broke my neck on this morning.

I've just come downstairs-- I didn't see it.

Because I put them on the table with the rest of your things, where you should have left them last night.

Oh.

Well, thank you.

How is the patient this morning?

He says he's going home.

Just ignore him, Ivy.

I find that's the best way to deal with him.

(chuckles) You were told to rest, William.

And there's no one better to look after you than Ivy.

Yes, well, I can't just sit here all day.

No.

You can come to the kitchen and have breakfast.

Just one rasher, please, Ivy.

IVY: Ha!

(chuckles) (footsteps retreating) God!

If I'd known what an appalling nurse you were, I wouldn't have agreed to convalesce here.

If I'd known what a demanding patient you were, I wouldn't have let you.

(inhales) Well, unlike you, I can't laze around like a lord of leisure.

(chuckles) My office won't run itself.

Yes, I can imagine how busy running a staff of one must be.

I can assure you, William, that it will not be long before my office is once again teeming with employees.

Things are looking up at Nash and Sons.

Not that he has any sons.

Promise me you'll rest, and do as Ivy says.

Do I have a choice?

Umm... No.

(sighs, footsteps retreating) Oh, God, that hurts!

(door opens, closes) (people talking in background, horses passing) Good morning, Clarence.

And a very good morning to you, too, Miss Scarlet.

You're rather chipper.

You feeling quite well?

Oh, never better.

I arrived this morning to be greeted by a most pleasant surprise.

Bonjour, Eliza.

(yelling): What the hell have you done?!

I leave you a business that is thriving and come back to find it barely surviving!

It's not my fault your men refused to work for a woman!

Well, from what I hear, your manner towards them left much to be desired.

I was trying to run a tight ship.

Well, congratulations, Eliza, because you've sunk it.

There were always going to be some teething problems.

You have no staff.

No clients.

I would suggest that's a little more than "teething problems."

Things are starting to move in the right direction.

I have several potential clients.

There's really no need for you to be here.

It is my name above the door and my reputation that is being damaged!

So I'm staying in London until this ship is back on course!

(footsteps retreating) (door opens, closes) (door opens and closes) (clicks teeth): I assume this is your doing.

I did not ask Mr. Nash to return.

I merely provided him with progress reports whenever he requested them.

And you didn't think to tell me you were doing that.

He is my superior, Miss Scarlet.

(door closes) (quietly): And I did tell him that things were picking up.

Mm, I admire your optimism, Clarence.

But I fear we have different definitions of what constitutes "picking up."

Where are you going?

I'm going to the Fat Goose, patronized by the Metropolitan Police, half the journalists of Fleet Street, and the lawyers of the Royal Courts of Justice.

When I've oiled my fellow punters with copious amounts of whiskey, I shall, no doubt, be in possession of some new cases.

If you'd done me the courtesy of actually listening to what I had to say, you'd know that I have a meeting with a client this very hour.

A client with money and influence.

I'll be the judge of that.

Come along.

(door opens) (door slams) NASH: You have a beautiful home, Mr. Carter.

CARTER: All down to my Maisie.

I'm just the one who paid for it.

(chuckles) We moved in just over a year ago.

It was hard work, but we've finally got things how we like them.

And where were you living before?

Uh, Leeds.

Moved down to London to set up a new factory.

I'm in the textile business.

It's good, indeed, to hear such a success story.

Around here, it doesn't seem to matter what money you've got.

It's all about your breeding.

The aristocracy do not like new money.

I don't care what the toffs are like with me, just as long as their wives treat my Maisie right.

And they do.

(inhaling): They've been very... accommodating.

Now, that is her way of saying they're a bunch of stuck-up snobs.

(laughing) Jack!

(door opens) Will you be wanting tea, sir?

Perhaps later.

CARTER: Thank you, Stafford.

What is it we can help you with, Mr. Carter?

(door closes) CARTER: Tuesday evening, we hosted a charity fundraiser for the committee Maisie belongs to.

The ladies of the Mayfair Benevolent Society.

And it was a roaring success, too.

Almost 100 souls turned up.

Two hours in, we were robbed.

ELIZA: What was in it?

CARTER: Nelson's diamond feather, given to the admiral by the sultan of Turkey after the Battle of the Nile.

How did it come into your possession?

Bought it at auction.

Spent a fortune, too.

(chuckles) Nelson's always been a hero of mine.

Didn't come from money.

Look what he made of himself.

Our butler, Stafford, noticed it was missing at half past ten.

I was so shocked, I burst into tears in front of the whole party.

I made such a fool of myself.

CARTER (softly): No.

You didn't.

Besides, who cares what they think?

NASH: As well as a guest list, we'll need the names of your staff who were working that night.

I've spoken to my household.

Weren't any of them.

It was one of the guests.

I just know it.

Trying to teach me a lesson, no doubt.

Daring to better myself.

And have you informed the police?

What, and have all London society questioned?

They'd resent us even more than they do already.

There were 100 guests.

Only one of 'em was a thief.

I want you to find who stole from me-- discreetly.

And when you do, I'll pay you handsomely.

Double your fee.

Is there anything you wish to say?

Well, that was... promising.

Apology accepted.

It was not an apology.

DRIVER: Go, giddy up!

CLARENCE: You apologized?

ELIZA: Well, not in so many words.

Not in any words.

I merely said it was a promising start.

Double the normal fee.

I'd say that's more than promising.

It may yet turn out they arranged the theft themselves to claim an insurance payout.

If it was insurance fraud, they'd have to report the theft to the police.

Besides, they don't seem to be short of money, so I think a simple "well done, Eliza" might be in order.

I'll save that until the office is full again.

Your men decided to leave.

I did not make them.

Well, that's not what they said in their correspondence.

They've been writing to you?

Well, I had hoped the situation would rectify itself, which is why I didn't come back sooner.

But in the end, I had no choice.

Shall we concentrate on the case?

(inhales) I shall make some inquiries into the Carters' household staff.

And I don't care what Mr. Carter says.

It's more likely to be a maid with sticky fingers than some lord with a grudge.

Mm.

I'll go through the guest list for the party.

I have a copy of Perceval's "Peerage and Nobility" at home.

Anyone who's anyone in high society will be listed in it.

It may give us an idea of who we're dealing with.

And I shall draw up a contract for the Carter investigation.

Do you wish to see it before I send it over?

Yes.

Yes.

(exhales) Bring it to me when you're done.

I'm not here to make your life difficult.

I'm here to help.

(inhales) How long do you intend to stay?

As long as it takes.

(footsteps approaching) I didn't hear you come in.

That's because you were asleep.

And snoring.

I don't snore.

Ivy will be back soon, but I can make you something to eat if you'd like.

Ah... Can we please forgo the teasing about my cooking?

It's not teasing-- you nearly killed me with some eggs once.

Well... You can't go wrong with bread and jam.

And no, I did not make either.

Thank you.

(exhales): So, how was your day?

(gasps softly) For the most part, horrible.

You'll never believe who's back in London.

Patrick Nash?

How do you know that?

Fitzroy.

He told me during his daily visit.

(laughs) I think that it's nice he comes to see you each day.

(grunts) You'll miss the attention when you're back at work.

I'm in no rush to go back.

I'm serious.

The whole place is falling apart.

To be honest, I've considered not going back at all.

That job is everything to you.

Not everything.

You know, this has made me realize that there are other things in life to consider.

Such as?

The future.

Your future's at Scotland Yard.

I don't think that's ever been in question.

I'm not talking about work.

You know, the first time we met was in this kitchen.

It was.

I remember watching you eat-- what was it?

Pork pie?

Smoked ham.

(laughs) I can still remember the look of horror on your face.

It wasn't horror, it was fascination.

I'd never seen anyone eat like that.

I still haven't.

That woman!

She'd try the patience of a saint!

Your mother?

Who else?

Don't ask me about her gout.

I don't intend to.

But I'm sure William would like to hear all about it, while I have work to do.

Well, it's gone from her right foot to her left foot.

Red, itchy skin all over her big toe-- poor thing.

(people talking in background, horses passing) Morning.

I come with good news.

I went through the list of guests who attended the Carters' party, many of whom were in the peerage listings in Perceval's, and I believe I've found something of interest about one of the guests.

What kind of background checks did you do on Jack Carter?

Oh, the usual: name, address, occupation.

You didn't think to look into where his money came from?

Textiles, as he said.

He owns a number of factories.

Which he bought with the profits from his original business.

Will you please just tell me what's happened?

I went to see Carter's servants.

All were terrified by the mere suggestion they would have stolen from him, but none would say why.

So, I did some digging.

It seems Mr. Carter is from the most notorious crime family in the North of England.

Murder, extortion, gun running.

All of which you would have known, had you done your due diligence, which, of course, you couldn't because you've lost my entire staff!

They'd have researched this Carter thug properly and told you to keep well clear.

Last night, I sent a telegram to Mr. Carter saying we were unable to take his case due to prior commitments.

Mr. Nash... Just a moment!

This morning you and I will sit down and make a new plan of action, and then once we're through with that... Mr. Nash.

Apologies for the interruption.

I do hope you are not busy.

I received your telegram.

It caused me some confusion, so I thought it best to come and talk to you in person.

Mr. Carter, if I... CARTER: No need to explain.

I can guess what's happened.

Just allow me to say my piece.

My wife and I were the victims of theft.

There was a time when I would have dealt with this myself.

But I've promised her that we will deal with this in a manner that is calm and civilized, as any gentleman might do.

I'm sure there are many other investigation agencies that would gladly take your case.

Where I come from, once you give your word, you don't go back on it.

So, for the avoidance of doubt, you will take this case and you will find my jewel.

If we cannot?

Then I will hold you personally responsible.

Oh, and you'll do it for free.

As compensation for the insult to my character.

(door closes) Not... a... word.

We need to find that thief.

And what will Mr. Carter do once you find him?

That had not yet occurred to me, Clarence, but thank you for making a dire situation even more unsatisfactory.

We are where we are.

So let's just do our best and try and solve the case.

Agreed?

You mentioned you'd found something of interest.

Indeed I did.

The diamond feather was put up for auction last year by Admiral Nelson's family.

From what I gather, they did so somewhat reluctantly, due to falling on hard times.

They've been forced to sell many of the family's prized possessions.

Precisely.

As I was going through the list of guests who attended the Carters' party, I came across a Lord Fallon.

He and his wife are patrons of a charity that help retired sailors from the Royal Navy.

Turns out Lord Fallon has a link on his mother's side to Admiral Horatio Nelson.

Fallon is Nelson's cousin?

Which gives him motive and opportunity to claim back a treasured family heirloom.

Hmm.

We should pay him a visit.

We should.

But we'll need a cover story.

NASH: My wife and I have always been patrons of the arts.

It was her idea that we come to take tea with you, Lord and Lady Fallon, and that we might learn more of your own charitable works.

It is always a pleasure to welcome new benefactors.

Thank you for considering us.

She is such a selfless person.

She's always thinking of others.

Do not listen to my dear husband.

It is he who thinks of all but himself.

Never was there a, a kinder, more honorable man.

You are newly arrived in London?

I do not believe our paths have crossed before.

We have, until recently, been in the West Indies, where we have some business interests.

But we have, I believe, some mutual acquaintances.

A Mr. and Mrs. Carter.

They are friends of yours?

Business acquaintances.

I hear the Carters' charity ball was a roaring success, although ended in somewhat sad circumstances.

Mm.

The theft.

LADY FALLON: It was a shame indeed.

Poor Mrs. Carter had put much work into the event, and for it to end in such a way... She made a damn fool of herself.

Dearest.

What?

She did.

That husband of hers is no better.

Uncouth, the pair of them.

Perhaps this is not the time nor the place... Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot say in my own home, madam.

Perhaps we might return to this donation you mentioned.

Uh, your charity is, I believe, in support of the elderly and infirm sailors of the Royal Navy.

That is correct.

Which is apt, given your connection to the greatest hero this country's ever seen: Admiral Horatio Nelson.

Goodness.

Well, in that case, the theft of the admiral's diamond feather must have dismayed you more than most, given it's practically a family heirloom.

I'd hardly call a distant cousin family.

And as for the theft, I know exactly who stole it.

Who?

Who?

(chuckling) We do love a little gossip now and then.

Baroness Weichmann.

Dreadful woman-- always scratching around for handouts.

I heard she was trying to pay for her passage back to Prussia.

Riddled with debts, that one.

This Prussian baroness is worth a visit.

Fallon clearly loathes the woman.

He strikes me as someone who likes very few, including his own wife.

Did you see the bruises on her neck?

It was him, no doubt.

(bell tolling in background) (snoring) Why are you looking at me like that?

We didn't want to disturb you, sir.

IVY: You looked so peaceful.

Like a little boy.

(groans) I don't need your help, thank you.

Yes, sir, sorry, sir.

He's always like this when he first wakes up.

I'll go and fetch some tea and cake.

No cake, Ivy.

Nonsense.

If I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to run to fat.

Well, whatever Ivy's feeding you, it's doing you good.

Each day, you look a little better.

Yes.

On that, Oliver, you don't have to visit me every day.

But I look forward to it, sir.

Unless you'd prefer I didn't?

(breath hisses in): Of course not.

(exhales) (inhaling): So... (clears throat): Important day.

Yes, sir.

The American Embassy awaits.

I want this secondment more than anything.

It's quite the opportunity.

New York!

Imagine that.

And an ocean between you and your father has its benefits, no doubt.

Never occurred to me.

I have to make a speech to the ambassador's staff.

I hoped to share it with you.

(inhales): My advice is, don't bore them.

Make it short and to the point.

My thoughts exactly, sir.

(bag thuds heavily) (clears throat) NASH: We could not believe it when we heard you were looking to sell your splendid estate, Baroness, since my wife and I are eager to buy in this area.

WEICHMANN: Yes, how did you hear of it?

ELIZA: Oh, Lord Fallon mentioned it in passing.

Mm-hmm.

I'm a keen horsewoman, and, uh, it's so very rare to find such a grand house in the middle of London... Mm-hmm.

...with stables to boot.

Well, it was not my intention to let things fall into such disrepair.

Expensive to upkeep, too, I'd imagine.

WEICHMANN: How much exactly were you looking to offer?

Oh, finance is my husband's department, Baroness.

Mmm.

I rarely understand it and find it quite tiresome, and said very much the same to my great friend Mrs. Maisie Carter just the other day.

Oh, you know the Carters?

I say "friend."

Given the chasm between our social standing, she is perhaps more of an acquaintance.

But my heart does go out to her.

Did you hear about the theft of their diamond feather?

(footsteps approaching) MAID: Madam?

You have a visitor.

I do apologize, but I must see to my guest.

Let us carry this negotiation on some other time.

My maid will let you know when I'm next available.

Good day.

Baroness.

(quietly): Patrick... NASH: Do you know him?

WEICHMANN: Mr. Gibson...

He's a dealer.

In what?

Stolen art and jewelry.

Clarence.

I need information on a second-rate art dealer.

A Mr. Gibson.

I think you ought to see this first.

Who sent this?

I don't know.

There's no name or signature.

It must have been posted when I went out to buy my luncheon.

"The diamond feather you seek can be found in Lord Fallon's writing desk."

(bell tolling) FITZROY: I was in the middle of my speech, just getting into my stride, and they told me to stop.

Whiskey, Ivy.

I tried to put my case forward, but they dismissed me out of hand.

It was a golden opportunity.

In New York, I could have been anyone I wanted to be.

No one there knows me or who my father is.

It could have been a fresh start.

Did they give a reason?

Lack of experience, apparently.

It sounds like they're hoping for someone with more years of service, such as yourself, sir.

Are you trying to get rid of me, Detective?

Oh, of course not, sir.

(chuckles) You can always apply again next year.

Just, just be patient.

You're right, sir.

You're always right.

(coughing) (weakly): I'd best get back.

The files keep rolling in and I don't want Phelps to accuse me of shirking.

Thank you, Miss Woods.

IVY: Pleasure, Detective.

(door opens) Oliver?

You're a good copper.

Don't forget that.

Thank you, sir.

(door closes) That boy thinks the world of you.

(chuckles) You'll make a good father.

(exhales) Would you like family of your own one day?

(chuckles) Can I speak my mind?

Will I need another whiskey?

Mm-hmm.

(pouring) (clears throat) Given what you've just been through, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this, but life is short-- don't waste it.

I don't know what happened between you and Arabella, but I can take a good guess at the reason why it ended.

So don't you think it's about time you told her?

Told who?

(footsteps approaching) (sniffles, exhales) I bribed one of the maids as she was leaving.

Housekeeper has the night off and the Fallons are due to go to the theater.

So, once they've left, the house will be empty.

(breathes deeply) It can't be this easy, can it?

A note just miraculously tells us where the diamond feather is hidden.

Well, we have to at least investigate.

Besides, Lord Fallon strikes me as a man with plenty of enemies.

Speaking of notes, what did your men say about me in their letters?

I think it's best just to leave that be.

And, for the record, it was not your fault.

Thank you, Patrick.

It was mine.

I should never have left you in charge.

(door opens) What?!

(door closes) DRIVER: Hup.

(carriage passing) (window opens) What do you mean you should never have left me in charge?

This is not the time.

Let's find his desk.

(window closes) See if the note was right.

Your men resigned because they didn't want to work for a woman.

I didn't dismiss a single one of them.

Apart from Matthews?

He was taking three hours for lunch.

And Simpson?

I didn't care for his manner.

But aside from those two, I bear no responsibility.

And Peters?

Fine.

I did dismiss some of them, and I don't regret it.

Good, 'cause they told me they would have left anyway.

What?

Well, don't shoot the messenger.

(door opens, hinges creak) Someone's coming.

This way.

(footsteps approaching) (objects shuffling) (whispering): Shall I have a look?

See who it is?

(whispering): Do what you want-- you always do anyway.

This is no time to sulk!

I'm not sulking!

(object thuds) (footsteps retreating) (door closes) Ah.

If the diamond feather was in Fallon's desk, someone else has it now.

(bell ringing) (exhales) What time did you come home last night?

I wasn't aware you were my father.

I had, uh, I'd hoped to speak to you, that's all.

About what?

If this is about you going home, you're not well enough yet.

No, it's not that.

Oh, I know what it is.

No, you don't.

But if you would just listen for a moment...

It's Detective Fitzroy, isn't it?

He's told you who my client is-- I do not need you lecturing me about my safety, William.

Eliza, will you please, for once, just listen to what I have to say?

(sighs) (sighs) Why?

Who is your client?

Are you in danger?

Now's not the time, William.

I really must be getting to work.

(door closes) If Lord Fallon did steal the diamond feather, then who stole it from him?

And we still need to find out who sent the anonymous letter.

Agreed.

How curious-- we're halfway through the morning, and there's yet to be a cross word between us.

It's still early, Patrick.

(knock at door) I have a list of dealers who trade in stolen luxury goods, but I'm yet to find anything on a Mr. Gibson.

Leave it with me.

I have an idea where we might find him.

(door opens and closes) ELIZA: Mr. Gibson, isn't it?

Who wants to know?

I'm a colleague of Inspector Wellington.

I believe you once assisted him on a case.

I've never heard of him.

Oh, really?

I must be mistaken.

Perhaps I should go and fetch him.

(stammers): Uh, now, come to think of it, I do remember the inspector.

I thought you might.

So, how can I help you?

What's your business with Baroness Weichmann?

I've never heard of her.

I saw you meet her at her stables.

Oh.

She's requested your help to sell a stolen artifact, perhaps.

I can assure you, I trade only in legitimate goods, sold with full provenance.

Well, that's curious, since Inspector Wellington was quite sure that you did indeed trade in stolen goods.

Perhaps I should go and fetch him after all, to clear this muddle up.

Well, the, the baroness has offered no stolen goods.

(chuckles): But I do pay her a small commission to bring me wealthy ladies looking to sell their possessions-- discreetly.

Often without the knowledge of their husbands.

And has the baroness earned her commission and provided you with any clients?

I've got a meeting with one of them today at noon.

Who might this lucky lady be?

Her name's Fallon.

Lady Emily Fallon.

ELIZA: He assured me he'd come to the office immediately after his meeting with Lady Fallon and confirm what it was she wishes to sell.

Do you trust him?

Not remotely.

Nevertheless, it's the best lead we have.

Agreed.

Can you stop agreeing with me?

It's most disconcerting.

(sighs): Good afternoon.

It's Mr. Stafford, isn't it?

We have visitors.

NASH: Yes, thank you, Clarence.

Nice to see you again, Miss Scarlet, Mr. Nash.

So sorry to turn up without an appointment.

We were just on our way to luncheon round the corner.

Jack's taking me to Gilbert's.

CARTER: And as we were passing, I thought why not drop in and get an update on the case?

NASH: Please be assured it has our full attention, and as soon as we have any developments, you'll be the first to know.

Hm.

Stafford, take Mrs. Carter to the carriage.

(door opens) MAISIE: So nice to see you again.

Mrs. Carter.

(door closes) Word has got back to my family that someone has stolen from me.

My brothers are dining out on how funny that is.

And I don't like to be laughed at, Mr. Nash.

Yes, I can see that.

So, you're gonna tell me everything you've found out so far.

We're still following up on different lines of inquiry.

I want names, and addresses, and... Jack!

We're going to be late.

CARTER: Just coming, my darling.

You've got one more day.

(throws gloves down) (footsteps approaching) I'm going to the market.

I'll pick you up some nice pork chops for your dinner.

Ivy... Do you have any writing paper?

Top drawer, right-hand side.

You'll find a pen in there, too.

(exhales) (sighs) Mm-hmm.

Convey my...

Convey?

(sighs): For God's sake.

NASH: Our only lead is this crooked art dealer.

And if he's let us down, tomorrow we'll face Carter empty-handed.

(breathes deeply): If his meeting with Lady Fallon was at noon, he should have been here by now.

Please stop pacing, you're making me nervous.

Good-- I don't see why I should suffer alone.

(knock at door, door opens) I've brought some lunch!

NASH: Not now, Clarence.

Miss Scarlet and I are waiting for this Gibson fellow, even though there's a strong possibility he will not show.

If he doesn't, it's not my fault.

All of this is your fault.

Does this Mr. Gibson wear spectacles?

Yes.

And possess an abundant head of hair?

Yes.

And does he have a somewhat pained expression, presumably due to a nervous disposition?

Yes.

Yes.

Hm-- he's outside.

You took your time.

You have news on Lady Fallon?

She's seeking to finance a divorce from her husband.

She got rooms at the Brabham Hotel.

Marlborough Suite.

Wants to meet there later, give me what she has to sell.

What exactly is it that she wants to sell?

Admiral Nelson's diamond feather.

It's possible that Lord Fallon did steal the jewel from Mr. Carter, but then what?

Lady Fallon stole it from her own husband?

Hm, perhaps.

But we still need to find out who sent the anonymous note.

As requested, I checked at the Brabham.

The Marlborough Suite is indeed where Lady Fallon regularly visits.

But the rooms are not paid for by her or her husband.

Well, who does pay for them?

Jack Carter.

(exhales) So Lady Fallon and Carter are having an affair?

Does that make sense to you?

Very little surprises me anymore.

I'm going to take another look at Carter's file, see if I can make any other connection to the Fallons.

Eliza.

William, what are you doing here?

You should be at home, resting.

Yes.

I wanted to speak to you.

I did attempt to this morning.

Sorry, you just make me nervous when you start to question me.

But it was about my current investigation.

No, it's about something else entirely.

Something that I need to get off my chest.

But as a man ill at ease with getting things off his chest, I thought the best thing might be to, um... To... (knock at door) Gibson's just sent a message.

He's meeting Lady Fallon at 4:00.

Well, that's in 20 minutes.

Mr. Nash is hailing down a cab.

(footsteps retreating) Um...

This can wait-- you go.

Well...

Given you're clearly feeling a little better, perhaps dinner this evening?

I'll make a reservation at Gilbert's.

We'll talk then.

I'll be home by 8:00, I promise.

ARABELLA: You are in love with her.

Unless you can convince me otherwise.

Well, I wish you luck.

And I say this out of friendship, not malice.

Eliza's ambition will outweigh everything, even her feelings for you.

Nothing will ever be enough for her.

Certainly not the future you envisage.

(exhales) (chiming) (door closes) Lady Fallon?

We know you have the diamond feather.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

You kept it hidden here.

And this is where you plan to sell it.

No, no, don't!

MAISIE: Myself and Emily-- Lady Fallon-- we met through the Mayfair ladies' society and found we were both as unhappily married as each other.

Funny, innit?

My husband wants to be accepted by the likes of Lord Fallon.

A man who beats his wife when he's had one too many.

ELIZA: You needed money to fund a divorce, so you stole the diamond feather.

It was me who stole it.

I wanted to help Emily, but I also wanted to punish Jack.

I never even wanted to move to London.

I was happy where we were.

Where we both grew up.

We belonged.

And all I've had since I've come to this city is rejection and contempt.

(voice breaking): And Emily's the only one who's ever shown me any kindness.

After the party, my husband had had too much to drink, and when Maisie saw my bruises, she was upset.

She was meant to give me the jewel, but instead, she put it in my husband's desk and sent you the note.

I hoped you would tell Jack and he would deal with Fallon once and for all.

With any luck, Emily wouldn't have to suffer the humiliation of a divorce and instead she would be a widow.

LADY FALLON: My husband is, oh, he is many things.

But I did not want his death on my conscience.

So you stole it back from the desk.

If you tell Jack any of this... Well, God knows what he'll do to me.

To both of us.

NASH: What do we tell Carter?

We can't tell him the truth, that's for sure.

But if we don't hand them over, Carter will come after us.

And I know it's selfish of me, but I'd very much like to carry on living.

What is it?

Carter's a wealthy man.

He could live anywhere in the country, and yet he chose to move to London, to join gentlemen's clubs and mix with lords and ladies.

Why would he do that?

Why are we discussing this now, exactly?

The answer is because he wants to belong.

Is this you formulating a plan?

If so, I do hope my survival is factored into it.

(exhales) I never doubted you for a minute.

Now tell me.

Who took it?

Neither myself nor Miss Scarlet will be giving you that information.

We've returned what is stolen, which is an end to the matter.

I will ask once more.

And it will be the last time I do so politely.

ELIZA: We're more than aware of the threat you pose, Mr. Carter.

Making people disappear is a speciality of yours, I believe.

A publican in Leeds.

A dock worker in Hull.

There are others, too-- it's all in here.

You can keep this.

We've made numerous copies of the same documents.

They're currently in a secret location and will be released should any harm come to myself or Mr. Nash.

You think the police don't know this already?

(tosses file on table) A bunch of rumor and hearsay?

If there were any evidence, I'd be in prison.

Well, it's not the police we'd send it to.

It's the guests who attended your party.

You chose to move to London, to mix amongst the great and the good.

Like your hero, Admiral Nelson, you wish to rise to the very top of society.

But that will never happen if they know who you really are.

Rumor and hearsay have destroyed greater men than you, Mr. Carter.

However, it's our wish that your reputation remain intact, and that none of those you wish to impress learn any of this.

We will, of course, be expecting our fee.

Or, rather, double our fee, as agreed.

Splendid.

Well, then, we shall bid you good day-- Mr. Nash?

(clears throat) (thunder rumbling, rain falling) (all laughing) NASH: Oh, I wish you'd been there, Clarence.

Carter didn't stand a chance.

(laughs): To getting double our fee!

That is quite something, Miss Scarlet-- well done.

Thank you, Clarence.

That may be the first compliment you've ever given me.

(chuckles): Oh, well!

I shall endeavor not to make a habit of it.

(sniffs) If you'll excuse me, I'll go and add our latest fee to the balance sheet.

(chuckles) (door closes) (sighs) Of all those who wrote to me about you, Clarence was the most complimentary.

Well, as complimentary as he can ever be.

(both chuckle) It's just a shame my men didn't... We're having a moment of harmony, Patrick.

Please do not ruin it.

I was going to say, it's just a shame my men didn't see you as I do.

As an exceptional detective and a remarkable woman.

(clock chiming hour) I should have stayed here until you'd settled in.

So, I must take some responsibility for what happened.

Perhaps there were times where I was a little high-handed with your men.

(chuckles) What say we start again?

We'll hire new staff.

I'll fund it with the money from the Paris branch and stay until things are running smoothly.

And we'll make Nash and Sons great once more.

With your brains and my good looks, I mean, how can we fail?

(thunder rumbling) Oh, no.

Sorry, Patrick, I must go.

(thunder rumbling) (rain falling) ELIZA (pounds cab ceiling): Thank you.

William?

(sighs) (footsteps approaching) Where are you going?

You're not well enough to go home yet!

I'm not going home.

I've been to see the super and he's agreed.

I'm going to New York.

I'm taking the secondment.

For a year?

For a year.

Well... (laughing): This is because I was late for dinner?

No.

This is because I love you.

It's a rare occurrence that I cause you to be speechless.

Perhaps I should tell you that I love you more often.

Well, you, you love me, and yet you're leaving?

Something has to change, Eliza.

Perhaps for you, perhaps for me.

This will, uh, give us the time to consider our options.

I, I don't understand.

Yes, you do.

If we are to be together, then I cannot remain at Scotland Yard with you a private detective.

Nor can I be around you anymore without, without being with you.

You have put me in an impossible situation.

So, this is my fault?

(thunder rumbling) Yes.

(exhales) This isn't goodbye.

It's goodbye for now.

(footsteps retreating) (door opens) (rain falling, thunder rumbling) (click) IVY: You've not spoken of Inspector Wellington since he's been gone.

You're clearly upset and angry with him.

I'm not upset, nor am I angry.

If you are to run this agency, you must first and foremost be a businesswoman.

I'll not be returning to Paris until you convince me you understand this.

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