All language subtitles for Miss.Scarlet.and.the.Duke.S02E02.WEBRip.x264-ION10[eztv.re]

♪ ♪

ELIZA:
You mean a great deal.

But I will not be dictated to.

I will have no master.

♪ ♪

WILLIAM:
It's better for both of us

to leave things as they are
for now.

Who does this revolver belong
to?!

MONRO:
Detective Fitzroy is the son
of the police commissioner.

Are you saying that I cannot
dismiss one of my own men, sir?

I am saying you're more than
capable

of dealing with him, Inspector.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(thunder claps)

(whimpers)

(click)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Once again, I'm most grateful

you've given me your precious
time

so that I may explain a little
more about my profession

and how it may interest
the ladies of your group.

It is not a group,

Miss Scarlet.

Group is a noun that conveys
neither the purpose

nor the quality of our
membership.

We are a cultural society.

The Bloomsbury Ladies Cultural
Society.

Duly noted, Mrs. Parker.

As I was saying,

I would like to give a lecture
to your...

...cultural society,

revealing the fascinating world
of the private detective,

brought to life with stories
from my own casebook.

My intention is to inspire your
ladies.

I don't wish
to sound boastful,

but I am the only female
detective in London.

Which is no doubt the reason
for the caliber of your clients.

The caliber of my clients?

It is our understanding that
you are engaged by the desperate

and impoverished who
cannot afford

to hire your male counterparts.

I can assure you I have
had many clients

who are neither of those things.

Perhaps not, but I would wager
that those clients

had cases that were deemed too
lowly to be taken on elsewhere.

You are suggesting I am
regarded as somehow second-rate?

I am merely pointing out that
if we endorse you,

it may have implications for the
reputation at the society.

I completely understand, Mrs.
Parker.

Once a reputation is lost,

it is so very hard
to get back.

Which is why you can rest
assured, Mrs. Forbes,

that I will reveal
to no one

the real reason your
son left the Navy.

How dare you!

And you have my word,
Mrs. Woodhouse,

that it will not be from me

that others hear of your late
husband's gambling debts.

Which are, I believe, only
exceeded by the money

he owed to the brothels of
Canning Town.

(all gasp)

♪ ♪

(door opens)

So?

How did it go?

(door slams)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(man snoring,
man coughing in distance)

Where is he?

(coins jingle)

This goes no further.

Understood?
Understood.

Fitzroy.

Get up.

I said, get up!
(Fitzroy gasps)

Look at the state of you, man.

(water splashes)

(Fitzroy gasping)

Look at me.

Fitzroy, look at me.

How many fingers?

Four.

No, it's three, it's three!
It's three.

Is that a guess?

No!

I want you to listen carefully,
Detective Fitzroy.

I don't give a damn what you
do in your private life,

but when you're on duty,
you turn up on time

in a fit state to work.

Now, I have been ordered
to turn you into a competent

detective, and God help me,
you will toe the line

and do as you're told.

Is that understood?

Good.

Clean yourself up, man.

ELIZA (voiceover):
I could tell them till I was
blue in the face

that I am hired on merit.

Would that make a difference?
Course not.

Yes, I have taken on a few
cases

which were not paying
the full going rate,

but to suggest
that it's because I'm a woman

and somehow desperate is simply
not true.

Is it, Hattie?

Absolutely not true at all.

Although...

Although?

Although perhaps you should not
have upset my aunt like that.

You do not want to make
an enemy of her.

Well, I've suffered your aunt's
wrath before

and lived to tell the tale.

Yes, but this is different.

You embarrassed her in front
of her ladies

of the Cultural Society,
her very best friends.

Well, I suppose it's nice to
hear

that she actually likes
somebody.

Oh, no, she loathes them.

But you must be on
your guard, Eliza.

My aunt does have friends
in high places,

and mark my words--
she will seek revenge.

Do any of these friends in
high places

wear top hats?

SWAB:
I do not know a Mrs. Parker.

I have come to see you
on my own volition.

Oh, well, in that case...

How may I help you,
Mr. Swab?

I am a partner at
Swab & Durstin,

an insurance firm
based in Holborn.

We provide cover for the lives
and properties of our clients,

protecting them from all the
slings and arrows

that life may throw.

In return for a monthly fee,
they receive

an "insurance policy,"
which means...

I believe I understand how the
insurance industry works,

Mr. Swab.

What is it I can do for you?

Last night, an item of
considerable value was stolen

from one of our
policy holders.

A sketch
of the Ascalapha odorata,

or black witch moth,

drawn from life on the
Galapagos Islands

in 1835.
During Darwin's voyage?

Most of the Galapagos
sketches

were drawn by
the expedition's artist,

Conrad Martens, but this

was by Charles Darwin himself.

As you can imagine, the value of
his artwork

has soared since his death
earlier this year,

and as such, we are facing
a significant payout.

Just to be clear, I will be
charging the full going rate.

I would expect nothing less.

Good.

So tell me, Mr. Swab,
where was this sketch stolen?

WILLIAM:
So there's no sign
of forced entry

and no other exhibits stolen.

Whoever did this knew what they
were looking for.

But why go to the bother to take
the sketch out of the frame?

What does this tell you?

When I ask you a question,

I expect an answer,
Detective Fitzroy.

Yes, sir, um...

(exhales):
You must learn to analyze
a crime scene,

and that involves more than
just taking notes.

Start using
your initiative, man, eh?

The fact they didn't

take the frame means
they had time.

There was no panic to snatch
and grab, sir.

Good.

And what was it called
again?

The moth.

Ascalapha odorata.

(sighs)
Found in Central
and South America.

It's believed
by some Native cultures

to be a harbinger of
death and destruction.

Miss Scarlet.

Inspector Wellington.

I take it this isn't
a coincidence?

I've been hired by the
insurance company

to investigate the theft
of the Darwin sketch.

And what do they think I'm
doing?

This may come as a surprise,
Inspector Wellington,

but myself and my client
did not discuss you.

We're done here.

We have other lines of
inquiry to pursue.

Such as?

Am I to understand that you're
asking for my help?

Already?

I am merely making polite
conversation.

(chuckles)

Although, given the
circumstances,

I can see how that can be
misconstrued.

After all,

we are in competition,
are we not?

(inhales)

The owner of the museum,
Miss Hannah Garret.

Where would I find her?

Is this another request for
help,

or are we still making
polite conversation?

Detective Fitzroy.

Sir, are you and her...
No.

And your handwriting's
illegible.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

I'm afraid we are closed
for the day.

We'll reopen in the morning.
Miss Garret?

Yes.

My name is Miss Scarlet.

I'm here on behalf
of your insurers.

It's standard practice for an
insurance company

to carry out their own
investigation.

And they sent a woman?

Meaning?

You would be better placed
to gain my trust.

Do they really suspect

me of stealing the
sketch myself?

I was sent, Miss Garret,

for no other reason than I am
good at my job.

As, I'm sure, are you.

I am sorry if I was rude.

I run the museum on my own,
and it is

an all-consuming venture.

It can make me tired,
and... somewhat cynical.

So tell me about the theft.

It happened overnight.

There was no sign
of a break-in,

nothing else was taken.

Whoever stole it knew the truth
of the matter.

That the sketch was the only
thing of real value here.

And how did you come to
own the Darwin sketch?

(exhales)

I attended a lecture

he gave at the Royal Institution
a few years ago.

I asked him a question
on the inherited

characteristics of
the black witch moth.

He was so modest, he admitted
that he did not know.

But two weeks later,
a package arrived

with a letter answering
my question,

and the sketch he'd drawn
on the Galapagos.

(chuckles)

Thomas was furious.

Thomas?

My husband, Thomas Dashwood.

The naturalist?

He has an impressive reputation.

Mm.

He used to encourage my
passion for science,

but as my knowledge grew,
so did his displeasure.

He wanted a pupil,
not a partner.

When I set up the museum,
he resented me for it.

Um, but you go by your,
your maiden name of Garret?

You're divorced?

Separated.

I would divorce, but the cost,

both financial and otherwise...

Let's just say it is
a high price to pay.

So where would I find
your husband?

(knocks crate)
DASHWOOD:
Careful with that!

Just one of those is worth
more than your yearly wage.

Sorry, sir, there's a lady here,
um...

Mr. Dashwood?

My name is Eliza Scarlet.

DASHWOOD:
Whoever you are,

it is customary to wait
until invited in.

Sorry, sir.

How many times
have I told you?

That maid must be dismissed.

Many times.

Forgive the intrusion, Mr.
Dashwood, but I hoped you might

have a spare moment
to talk?

(laughs):
I most certainly do not.

I'm giving a lecture at
the Royal Institution,

and yet again, I am behind
schedule.

Take those out to the carriage.

(sighs)

It concerns your wife.

I am attempting to recover the
Darwin sketch

that was taken...
The sole
intention of that woman

is to humiliate and
antagonize me.

I've already spoken
to the police,

and will not explain myself
to you,

whoever the hell you are.

Mr. Dash...
If you want to speak
to me about my wife,

get yourself a lawyer.

You saw yourself in,

you can see yourself out.

I would say he's not
normally like this,

but that would be a lie.

Who are you, exactly?

I am a private investigator.

So you're good with clues!

Ostentatiously lofty in style,

begins with the letter B.

Oh, a word puzzle, mm.

Makes the day go faster.

That and a bottle of schnapps.
(laughs)

(coughing)
Can I get you something?

(gasping softly):
A new pair of lungs.

(coughing):
Oh, thank you, thank you.

Mm, oh, please sit.

(coughs softly)

(puffing)

Oh, usually I receive a look of
disdain when I light my pipe.

Mm, never quite sure whether

it is the fact that I am a
lady and smoking,

or that I am an unwell
lady and smoking.

Or it could be just that I'm
German.

I've lived here for 50 years,

yet still treated like a
foreigner.
(chuckles)

I would wager it's all
three of those things.

(chuckles)

A female private detective--
now, that is a puzzle.

Well, I've been employed by the
insurance company to investigate

Miss Garret's
Darwin sketch.
Hm.

The last I heard,
my daughter-in-law's name

was still Dashwood.

(chuckles)

But if you wish

to deal with my son, you'll
have to have more assertiveness

than that, young lady.

He is...

Bombastic!

I beg your pardon?

Ostentatiously lofty in style--
bombastic.

Bombastic, yes!

It is a good job you are here,
Miss Scarlet.

You finish it.

My son does not approve of my
penchant for wordplay.

(clears throat):
I believe

I shall take a nap.

Thank you.

I will have my maid
see you out.

(coughing softly)

♪ ♪

(people talking in background)

(talking softly in background)

Sorry.

Excuse me.

Hattie...

What on Earth is going on?

I have no idea.

I just popped in
to say hello

and I found them waiting
outside.

They keep saying they
found it, they found it.

Found what?

(people talking loudly)

They're all fakes.

You don't say.

(chuckles)

And why were they sent
to your office?

The advert on the
bottom of page five.

"Stolen: Sketch of the black
witch moth

"by Mr. Charles Darwin.

"A reward of £1,000

"is offered for its safe return

to Miss Eliza Scarlet,
43 Ebury Lane, London."

It wasn't me who placed it.

The sketch is worth £500,

yet this offers
twice that amount.

Unless, of course,

Miss Garret had a sentimental
attachment to it.

Perhaps it was her that
placed the advert.

Well, I doubt she has
that kind of money.

And even if she did,
why use my address

and not the museum's?

She's not my client,
the insurance company are.

Which is curious in itself.

What is?

That the insurance company
would hire you.

There must be a reason.

Because I'm good at my
job, that's the reason.

All I meant is that they may
suspect Miss Garret,

and they hired a woman

to gain her trust.
(blows out)

Where are you going?

I'm coming with you.

Where am I going?

To reception.

I sent a message to someone we
need to question.

He should've
arrived by now.

Eliza, do I need to remind you
that this is my place of work,

not yours?
(sighs)

Who is it, anyway?

A journalist at
"The Illustrated Police News."

(sighs)

Basil Sinclaire.

Oh, please God, not him.

The advertisement was placed
anonymously.

We received a letter containing
only the wording

and the required
date of publication.

When was this?

Yesterday in the evening
post, a little before 6:00.

As chief correspondent,

my editor, Mr. Smyth,
came to me.

"Basil," he said,
"no one knows more

"of Mr. Darwin and the natural
sciences than you do.

"You must help the police

in their hour of need."

So the advert was placed before
the robbery happened?

My heart soars at the prospect
of our esteemed publication

being center stage of such an
intriguing mystery.

It is not a mystery,
Mr. Sinclaire, it is a theft.

There will be a perfectly
rational explanation

to all of this.

Stolen artwork from the great
Charles Darwin himself.

Scotland Yard forced, yet again,
to turn

to the lady detective.

Miss Scarlet is not working
for Scotland Yard.

ELIZA:
I've been hired

by the insurance company,

who wish to carry out their own
investigation.

My dear Miss Scarlet, I fear
you may have proved my point.

Is it not precisely due

to a lack of faith in the
police

that you were hired in the
first place?

I am
something of an expert

in the workings
of the insurance industry.

Mr. Sinclaire, you must be an
incredibly busy man,

given your expertise
in so many fields.

(door opens)

As requested, sir, I've been
perusing previous fraud cases.

I've secured a, an address
for that art dealer.

Art dealer, you say?

And who might that be?

(door slams)

I'm gonna ask you a question,

and I want you to think very
carefully before you answer.

Are you trying to make
my life difficult?

Sir?

Never share your findings in
front of anyone else but me.

Think before you speak--
in fact, better still,

don't speak at all
unless I explicitly tell you to.

You're looking rather
warm, detective.

Are you unwell?

No, sir.

Perhaps it's the clement weather
we're enjoying at present.

Take my advice,
Detective Fitzroy,

if you wish to fit in here,
stop using words like "clement."

Yes, sir-- sorry, sir.

Stop apologizing
every five minutes.

Alert my cab that I will be
going to Bethnal Green.

(door closes)

Miss Scarlet.

Detective Fitzroy.

Well, get to it, man!

May I offer you some
constructive criticism?

No.

At times, your manner could be a
little more approachable.

Particularly with those who are
your subordinate.

That nice young man looks like

he could do with the occasional
"well done."

Have you ever been anyone's
superior?

Apart from your housemaids?

No, but...
Then please keep

your constructive criticism
to yourself.

(door opens and closes)

This dealer you're going
to see.

I'm assuming he's connected
to the black market somehow?

Perhaps someone with

previous convictions for
trading in stolen art.

Good, I'm right.

There's no expression you
possess that I cannot read.

William, I know we're
in competition,

but when all is said and done,
we are on the same side.

The side of the law.

We're on the same side when it
suits you.

And I don't trust you when you
sound so noble.

Whoever placed this advert

knew exactly when the sketch
was going to be stolen.

I'd like to go back to the
museum and speak

to Miss Garret again,
and I suspect you would, too.

We'd save ourselves time
if we shared our resources.

You speak to this dealer, I'll
go to the museum,

and we'll meet up later
to share our findings.

No.

Very well.

Then perhaps I'll team up with
our journalist friend

and share
my observations with him.

And not just about
the case, but

wider stories, too, like
the time you were drunk on duty

and lost your warrant card.

How the hell do you find
these things out?

People speak to me.

It's my warm and approachable
manner.

(sighs)

Fine.

(horse trotting,
carriage clattering)

GARRET:
You are being ridiculous!
Why would I do such a thing?

DASHWOOD:
To claim the money from
the insurance

and prop up your
failing business.
(Garret scoffs)

GARRET:
It is not failing!

DASHWOOD:
There are leaks in the roof,

paint peeling from the walls,
and exhibits falling to pieces!

You cannot afford to run
this place,

but you're too stubborn
to sell it!

I will expose you
for what you are.
(exhales)

A thief.
(hits table)

Get out! Now!

(door closes)

(people calling, piano playing)

(door closes,
conversations muffle)

(door opens, people talking in
background)

(door closes)

(bells chiming hour)

GIBSON:
I deal in legitimate

works of art sold with
full provenance.

In fact, Inspector,

I am insulted that
you would even ask.

My apologies, Mr. Gibson.

I assumed that a man with 12

convictions for handling
stolen goods and three

for fraud might be
the right person to talk to.

(exhaling):
That was all in my past.

I'm a changed man.

Your last conviction
was six weeks ago.

So perhaps you can, uh,
think back

through the mists of time
to your criminal past

and come up with some names
for me to talk to.

There's no one I can think of.
(chuckles)

All of these things are, uh...

What was your phrase?

"Legitimate works of art
with full provenance"?

They are.

Well, in that case, I shall
have to check that is so.

You'll have to be kept in
custody in the meantime.

Now I think about it, there
is one person comes to mind.

(sighs):
I thought there might be.

(chuckling):
Yeah, this is the man you want.

He deals in specialist
works of art,

like the one that was stolen.

But I don't know
his real name.

Just what they call him.

The Count?

(piano playing,
people talking in background)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Why are you following me?

I wasn't following you.

I lost my way.

You were watching
me in the tavern.

Now...
(gun cocks)

Tell me who you are or I will
shoot you in the head.

No, you will not.

Why is that, then?

Because there's a police
officer standing behind you.

(chuckles)

Do you think I'm an idiot?

(gun cocks)

Yes, since you ask.

(people laughing and talking
in background)

Was Miss Garret trying to sell
you the Darwin sketch?

I know nothing of this
sketch you speak of.

But I suggest you tread
very carefully.

And why is that, exactly?

Because I'm a Buzansky.

My family

is one of the oldest
dynasties in Hungarian nobility.

Am I supposed to be impressed?

(chuckles)

I'm merely warning you that
I have influential friends.

I suggest you
answer the question.

Or Inspector Wellington here

will take your leg

and use it for firewood.

(piano playing in background)

No, Miss Garret
was not selling,

she was trying to buy.

But I told her
I do not have it.

That conversation seemed to
take an awfully long time.

That is because she
did not believe me at first.

She thought
I was bargaining.

She had no money to offer,

only a few exhibits
from the museum.

Worthless, mostly.

The woman is desperate,

so I told her
if I heard anything,

I would let her know.

And have you heard anything?

Not a word.

Getting rather, uh,
chilly in here.

Wouldn't you agree,
Miss Scarlet?

Mm.

I think perhaps the fire
might need a little help.

(chuckles)

Very well.

I have heard

one or two things.

About Miss Garret?

About her husband.

They say he pays extremely
well,

no questions asked.

You want to find that sketch?

I know where
I would be looking.

I'll go to a magistrate
first thing

and get a warrant to
search Dashwood's house.

Good,
I'll meet you there.

The man is
difficult enough

without any
added irritation.

Oh, so I'm an
irritation now, am I?

I merely meant it's better
to keep things simple.

You will wait for me
to contact you

with an update on
how the search went.

And that is my
final word on the matter.

Final word.

And if I find the sketch,
then I will

make sure that
your employers know

your part in
the investigation

and you will still
receive your fee.

Unless this is more
about your ego.

Do you really
wish to talk about ego?

Sir.

There's a Dutch gentleman,
a Mr. Loman,

waiting for you
in your office.

He'd like to discuss
the Darwin case.

Mr. Loman.

(door closes)
Ah.

LOMAN:
From Loman and Holst.

The company who insured
the stolen picture.

No, the insurance firm is

Swab & Durstin.

Hm.
Here.

See, I was visited by
one of the partners.

I have never heard of
such company.

Describe the man you met.

Uh...

Small in stature.
Hm?

A Welsh accent, top hat.

And he had a slight
birthmark on his forehead.

Whoever he is,
he does not work for

my company.

Well, if he didn't hire me,
then who did?

(people talking in background)

HATTIE:
Why would this man

give you a card for
a business that does not exist?

It does not
make any sense.

Hattie, it's always
nice to see you,

but you really cannot keep
popping in like this.

I am extremely busy, so...

And it's a
very nice card to boot.

The velvet texture,

the subtle but bold embossing.

My father was in
the ink business,

and there is nothing that
comes close to my passion

than a well-chosen font.

Oh, well, then,
perhaps you could help me.

I need to find out
who ordered these cards.

♪ ♪

Hattie?

You want me to help you?

You mean like an assistant?

Uh...

Yes, if you like.

I will take you to

every stationer's in town,
Eliza.

And on the way,
I shall explain

the 12 types
of calligraphy.

I can hardly wait.

(horse snorts)

(horse neighing)

♪ ♪

Well?

What's the matter
with her?

Sir.

What is it now?

What the hell
is this?

We have a warrant
to search these premises, sir.

My mother is extremely ill,
and you come

marching into my home...
We were let in by your maid.

(inhales sharply)

I have said

all I have to say
on this matter.

You have no just cause
to be here!

Mr. Dashwood,
I would request that you

control your temper,
sir.

(thuds heavily)

(under breath):
Christ.

Fitzroy.

Fitzroy!

What on Earth
is going on here?

♪ ♪

(door closing in distance,
people whispering in background)

(breathes deeply)

MONRO:
Ah, Wellington.

(door closes)
How are we?

Fine, thank you, sir.

How's young Fitzroy getting on?

Uh...

Actually, sir, he's, uh...

(coughs softly)

He's doing very well.

Glad to hear it.

The commissioner
asked me to check in on him.

Is he around?

Not at the moment, sir.

He is out assisting me
on the Darwin investigation.

But you're happy
with his progress, yes?

He still has
a lot to learn, but yes.

Overall, good progress.

Good.

Glad to hear it--
I'll let his father know.

Keep up the good work.

(exhales)

HATTIE:
I am acting as consultant

to Miss Scarlet's

extremely important
investigation,

given my
considerable expertise

in the business of
stationery.

I do not boast when I say

that I have an
encyclopedic knowledge of

embossing,
calligraphy, kerning,

and the jewel in the crown
of any calling card,

the font.
(chuckles)

My particular favorite...
Miss Parker.

Was this card made
on these premises?

One moment, please.

Hattie,
may I ask you be

more economical
with your conversation?

Economical?

Keep quiet.

We sold a book last week.

Do you remember who to?

Mr. Reginald Booth.

(horses neighing)

(picks clanking)

(lock releasing)

(door closes)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(door closes)

I'm Inspector Wellington--
I understand

you wish to
speak with me.

I am here on behalf
of my clients,

the Dashwood family.

I am their legal counsel,

and as such,
Mr. Thomas Dashwood

has asked me to relay
the sad news of

the passing of his mother.

My condolences.

Mrs. Dashwood
has been ill for some time,

so it is not completely
unexpected, but still

a terrible blow to her son.

Mm.

As you can imagine,
he is stricken with grief

and requests that you desist

from harassing him
any further.

Does he now?

Furthermore,
he has asked me

to point out that
he is a man of wealth

who could fund the most
thorough of legal challenges.

So, I would advise

that any
future communications

come directly through

myself.

I bid you good day, sir.

Is that a Welsh accent
I detect, Mr. Booth?

I fail to see the relevance.

And is it not customary

to remove one's hat
when indoors?

I am a busy man

with many other appointments
to attend, Inspector.

You offend me, sir.

Kindly take it off.

This is quite ridiculous.

My cab is
waiting outside...

Either you take off
your hat

or I'll take it off
for you.

♪ ♪

(chuckles)

I believe you know
an associate of mine.

Miss Scarlet?

(door creaks open, closes)

(horse snorts)

♪ ♪

(neighs)

♪ ♪

(clock pendulum swinging)

(drawer opens)

(footsteps approaching)

♪ ♪

(picks clanking)

Well.

It seems you are
who you claim to be.

Mr. Reginald Booth,

a solicitor of
28 Westerly Row.

So tell me why you were
impersonating a Mr. Swab,

who works for a bogus
insurance firm.

I deny any such accusation,

and furthermore would ask
if I am under arrest.

If so, you have
failed to mention it.

You're free to go
at any time, Mr. Booth.

Just as I'm free to go
to the Law Society

and report you for fraud.

(exhales)

I have worked for the
Dashwood family for some years.

At first for
Mr. Dashwood's late father,

then latterly for
Mr. Dashwood himself.

I am paid for my diligence

and compliance.

You mean you do
what you're told.

I do my best
for my clients, yes.

And what interest
did Thomas Dashwood have

in Miss Scarlet?

It was not Thomas Dashwood
who told me to visit her.

(floorboards creaking,
footsteps tapping softly)

♪ ♪

(softly):
The Temple of Karnak.

(chuckles)

WILLIAM:
So, old Mrs. Dashwood

was an intrepid explorer.

But very much left out of
the history books.

I've done some research,

and there's no mention of her

among the otherwise male
archaeology team.

The lawyer said when
her family married her off

to a rich, much older
English husband,

he insisted
that she stay at home

and behave
more appropriately.

I can see why she liked you.

Then, when
her husband died,

she hoped to rekindle

her passion for
the natural sciences,

but her son was
a chip off the old block.

He didn't want her
tainting his own career.

Something he tried
to inflict on his wife, too.

If Mrs. Dashwood is the one

that got that journalist
Sinclaire involved,

then she clearly wanted
to create a story.

But as yet, I,

I can't quite
work out her plan.

It's a puzzle.

Ah, it certainly is.

No, I mean,

it is a puzzle.

The discovery of
the Karnak King List

was famous for
the race to find it.

It involved
deciphering maps,

hieroglyphic riddles.

How Mrs. Dashwood
loved a riddle.

When I met her,
she was trying to

complete a word game.

I helped with a clue.

Well, maybe the enigmatic
Mrs. Dashwood

died before her puzzle

came to fruition.

(yawning):
It's late,

we should pick this up
in the morning.

I'll see you home.

A seven-letter puzzle.

Anagram.

♪ ♪

Exactly.

I think I know
where the Darwin sketch is.

(people talking in background)

ELIZA:
Am I right

in thinking
your mother-in-law

was fond of you,
Miss Garret?

She was the only one
in that family

who ever treated me
with kindness.

She came here many times,

much to the annoyance
of her son.

Is it possible that
on one of those visits

she could have taken
a spare set of keys?

Perhaps copied and
then replaced them?

Are you suggesting that
it was my mother-in-law

who had stolen from me?

We are, but with a
good intention.

SINCLAIRE:
I trust this is not
a tale of kindness.

I know better than most
the goodness of human nature

from my own
philanthropic works,

however, a story
of solidarity and compassion

is rather a difficult sell.

Well,
if you would just

give Miss Scarlet
a moment to explain,

Mr. Sinclaire.

Mrs. Dashwood's lawyer
hired me using the name of

a bogus insurance company.

GARRET:
Swab & Durstin.

Mrs. Dashwood had a fondness
for translation and wordplay.

The name "Swab & Durstin"
is an anagram.

For "Darwin's bust."

♪ ♪

(both gasp)

♪ ♪

(exhaling happily)

My cup runneth over.

Mrs. Dashwood
hoped this story would

generate publicity
for the museum

to bring in
the crowds for you.

It's a story of a woman

trying to make
it in a man's world.

A female detective
investigating her along the way.

And a cunning trail
laid by a brilliant lady

who wasn't allowed to be
brilliant in life.

Your mother-in-law
wanted to help you,

Miss Garret.

(voice trembling):
I do not know what to say.

(softly):
Tut, tut, tut.

You need find
no words, Miss Garret,

for Basil Sinclaire
shall find them for you.

Mm.

(softly):
Thank you.

It's my pleasure.

When the story's
published,

Miss Garret
will find business booming.

They'll be
queuing out the door.

Much to her husband's
dismay.

Oh, William, I hate to admit it,
but you were right.

(laughs):
Was I?

How so?

When you said it was curious

that the insurance company
would have hired me.

Come on,
let us not dwell on

what I have
or have not said.

It never ends well.

I'm merely pointing out
that what you said was true.

It was only
because I'm a woman

that I got the case.

So?

So I want to be hired
for being good at what I do,

not because I wear a bonnet.

Eliza, there is no escaping
that you are a woman,

just like there is
no escaping that I'm a man.

I'm also Scottish,

young enough to say
that I'm still only 30,

old enough to know better.

And these are all things
that I use to my advantage

when it suits.

(chuckling):
How do you use being
Scottish to your advantage?

Well, there's nothing like a
drunken Scot to deceive

a overconfident idiot
at the poker table.

Especially a Glaswegian who
apparently can't hold his wine.

(chuckles)

What I'm trying to say is,

use what you have
to your advantage.

Just like anyone else does,
man or woman.

It is no more complex
than that,

so do not make it so.

Right, I must leave.

I don't want to
be stuck with Mr. Sinclaire.

There's something
in his manner

that gives me the
urge to punch him.

(laughs)
Inspector.

Might I trouble you for
a ride back to the office?

And on the way,
I can regale you

with my retelling of
this rather

delicious story.

(door slams in distance)

♪ ♪

Spoke with your doctor.

He said you'll be fine.

He also said you were lucky.

Your heart rate
was dangerously erratic.

It could kill you
if it happens again.

I didn't tell him
my suspicions

as to what
might have caused it.

Collapsing
in front of a suspect

was unforgivable, sir.

I assume you're going to

inform Superintendent Monro
of my behavior.

And why would I do that,
exactly, huh?

Anything that you do,

it is me who
has to answer for it!

It's me whose head
is on the block!

In his quest to make something
of his son,

my father has sought help

in a long line
of institutions.

Among them his old
boarding school,

and then his beloved
Sandhurst,

and even a
short spell in the Navy.

And how did they fare?

I was relentlessly bullied,

and, and they only served

to cement my father's opinion
that...

That I am an embarrassment
to our family.

And the police force is, uh,

unfortunately for me,
his last hope.

It is a burden indeed

to know that your own father
despises you.

And the opium
has gone some way

in providing me
with some relief.

All I had growing up
was a daily beating

in the workhouse.

We all have our scars,
Fitzroy.

If it's sympathy you're after,
don't look to me.

Of all the men whose command
I have been under, you...

You are the most
decent man of all of them.

And that is why I will do

whatever it takes
to make you proud of me, sir.

(chuckles)

So what do you suggest?

Put me on
administration duty, sir.

I'd be good at that.

I'm extremely organized.

I know I can be
a decent detective.

I just need some time
to learn the basics.

Well, that's a decision,
then.

You come in on time,
ready to work,

and we'll take it from there.

Thank you. sir.

I will not let you down.

There is one more thing,
Detective.

Yes, sir?

Get a bloody haircut.

Consider it done, sir.

(children laughing,
people calling)

Miss Scarlet!

Mrs. Parker,

what a nice surprise.

Never have I been
so humiliated

in front of my ladies.

What you did
was unforgivable.

And I'm sorry for it.

My intention was not
to humiliate you.

But I did not throw
the first stone.

And the accusations you made--
abhorrent!

Accusations based on truth.

I will use every ounce
of my influence

to destroy you and your little

private investigation
business.

I will have my retribution
to my full satisfaction

and see you ruined,
Miss Scarlet.

These and other thoughts

ran through my head
after you left.

So you do not
think them now?

I did a little research
of my own.

It appears your
accusations were... correct.

So...

Given you have proven
your resourcefulness,

I wish to engage you
in another matter.

These are the gentleman
I have selected

as potential husbands
for my niece.

As yet, she has had
no offers of marriage

and is not
getting any younger.

In fact, I believe she is

the exact same age as you,
Miss Scarlet.

So...

I would like
a complete dossier

on each candidate,

and then I can make my choice
as to their suitability.

You wish to hire me?

Good day.

(laughs)

I'm confused, Mrs. Parker.

You declared my clients

to be either desperate
or impoverished,

unable to pay
the going rate.

Yet you wish to be
a client now?

I can assure you
I am neither of those things,

and I am willing to pay
the full fee.

Well, then, why me?

Why not go to one of my
male counterparts?

There is a very good reason
I came to you

and no one else.

You are the only
private investigator I know.

And it is no more complex
than that.

(chuckles)
(door opens and closes)

Do not make it so, Eliza.

♪ ♪

(click)

(knocks on window)

PHELPS:
Miss Scarlet?
You're under arrest.

I'm no thief.

THACKERY:
I want that woman
charged without delay.

MONRO:
Gone? Gone where?

We both know
she's innocent.

IVY:
God knows what danger she's in.

Find her.

Where you going?
To solve the case.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

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♪ ♪