All language subtitles for Miss.Scarlet.And.The.Duke.S04E02.Six Feet Under.eng

♪ ♪

I'm running this London office
now,

and I can assure you
things will pick up.

We have exactly no clients.

♪ ♪

WILLIAM: We are experiencing
an unprecedented level of cases.

ELIZA:
William, there you are.

You look tired.

You look beautiful.

WILLIAM: My biggest fear is
that I am sending my men

into situations
that they are ill-prepared for.

Someone is going to get hurt.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(thunder claps)

(whimpers)

(click)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(children calling
and exclaiming)

♪ ♪

Mr. Potts! Mr. Potts!

(exhales):
Miss Scarlet--
good afternoon.

Oh, Mr. Potts,
tomorrow, I embark on a case

with Inspector Wellington,
and I require

some background information
on one of your cadavers.

There is such a thing as
a protocol, Miss Scarlet,

and as such,
I will convey any information

directly to the inspector.
I do understand,

but hopefully my involvement
will hasten

the arrest
of the perpetrator.

The sooner
I have this information,

the sooner
he will be behind bars.

Surely, that is more
important than protocol.

Nothing is more important
than protocol, Miss Scarlet.

Now, I'm late for
an appointment.

Good day.

Mr. Potts!

(muttering):
God save us.

(chuckling):
We are practically
family now, Mr. Potts.

My relationship with Ivy will

and always shall
be a private matter.

It should never be
used as a bargaining tool.

Now, if you will excuse me,
I'm taking tea

with my good friend
Mr. Theobald Turner.

We take tea
on alternate Wednesdays,

and as I've already said,
I am late!

Theobald?

Theobald!

Theobald!

(door rattles)

Out of the way, Mr. Potts.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

So you saw
no one leaving the scene?

Well, as I said,
the back door was open.

The perpetrator must
have escaped from there.

I was talking to Mr. Potts.

POTTS: Uh,

we saw no one.

PHELPS: Oh, good.

You've decided to join us again,

Detective Black.

Feeling better?

(softly):
Yes, sir.

You'd better get used
to the sight of blood, son.

This is your life
for the next 25 years.

First crime scene-- bless him.

I believe Mr. Turner was
dead before he hit the ground.

Hm, a private detective

and now an amateur doctor.

How efficient you are,
Miss Scarlet.

You wish to talk of efficiency,
Detective Phelps,

when it took over an hour for
the first constable to arrive.

Now, if I may, I have
some further observations.

Do mind the blood.

♪ ♪

I believe the victim was hit
here,

knocked to the floor
with some force.

POTTS:
Poor Theobald clearly struggled
to the front of the shop

to get help.

The cause of death was
likely a blow to the head.

Have you finished?

No-- the back door shows
signs of forced entry,

the cash box has been emptied,

and there are some brass handles
missing from the coffins,

which all points to a robbery,
but...

It's strange that an undertaker

would be the target
of such a crime,

particularly one of his caliber.

Theobald was
an excellent undertaker!

Well, thank for
your observations, Miss Scarlet.

But I'm sure we would have come
to that conclusion ourselves.

Wouldn't you agree,
Detective Black?

(weakly):
What's that smell?

Uh, formaldehyde from
the mortuary downstairs.

(moans softly)

(Black retching, bells ringing)

Shut that window immediately.

You're disturbing
important evidence.

PHELPS:
What is wrong with you, man?

This is a crime scene!

(quietly):
Yes, sir-- sorry, sir.

As a child, the notion
that the dead needed a bell

in case they woke up in
their coffin quite terrified me.

PHELPS:
Well, I'd love to stay
and reminisce

about your childhood,
Miss Scarlet,

but we will come to our own
observations and deductions.

I feel sick again, sir.

(Black retches softly,
Phelps sighs)

♪ ♪

Thank you.

♪ ♪

Good morning,
Miss Scarlet.

Secret admirer?

Good morning, Clarence, and no,
just a little gift to myself.

Some cheer for my office.

Need I remind you,
every shilling counts?

The shillings will
soon be pouring in, Clarence.

Inspector Wellington
has promised me a case.

And I'm quite sure
by this time next week,

we shall have plenty more.

Besides, in this line
of work, it's important

to remind oneself there
is some beauty in the world.

Morning.
Inspector Wellington.

I was just talking about you.
I'd really rather
you didn't.

All good things,
I can assure you.

Well, in that case,
don't let me stop you.

How are you, William?
Fine, thank you.
(sniffs)

♪ ♪

You just sniffed.

So, either you're
allergic to these flowers

or you have bad news.

We've, uh,
we've had a diktat from above.

Budgets are
being further squeezed.

Fewer men on more cases.

Recruits are being rushed
through without proper training.

And, uh, and no more
hiring of private investigators.

Well, what about the case?
The one you promised me.

You're, you're aware
how much I need it.
Yes, believe me

that this is the last thing
that I want.

You have no idea
of my present workload.

Well, if you're so busy,
that's even more reason

to hire me, William.

I'm sorry,
but it's out of my hands.

(sighs)
But if anything changes,

then you will be
the first to know, I promise.

Look, I should get back, I have
a great deal of work to do.

Good for you.

How long do you intend
to be cross with me for?

A rough estimate will do.

I'm not cross with you,
it's just the situation.

Really, I'm sorry.

(door opens and closes)

♪ ♪

(knock at door)

Oh, good morning, Miss Scarlet.
Any cases today?

No, but tomorrow,
I'm certain.

♪ ♪

(knock at door, door opens)

Anything today?

(knock at door, door opens)

Morning-- anything?

Uh, no, nothing as yet.

(sighing)

(knock at door)

(hinges creaking)

(door creaks shut)

♪ ♪

(flowers drop)

(people talking in background)

(sighs)

I do wish you would calm down,
Barnabus-- all this stress

and strain will play havoc
on your blood pressure.

It's been a week,
and nothing!

My friend still lies in
cold store, awaiting burial.

They do seem rather busy.

(talking in background)

Ah, Inspector!

Inspector Wellington.

Mr. Potts, Ivy.

Inspector Wellington,
we've been waiting some time now

to speak to Detective Phelps
about my friend's death.

Mr. Theobald Turner?

Detective Phelps has
been sent up north

on police business,
and as far as I'm aware,

Detective Black is now
leading the investigation.

Will you please
deal with this man?

Thank you!

May I be candid, Inspector?

Detective Black is not
equipped to lead this case.

He's not equipped to lead
any case.

I'm sure that Detective Black
will be available shortly.

Now, if you'll excuse me...

No, I...
(exhales): Look at the flush
on those cheeks of yours.

I won't be a widow
before I'm married, Barnabus.

I'll find someone else
to help you.

And I know just the person.

You wish to hire me?

(inhales)

(sighs):
Well, the Metropolitan Police

really should be doing
their job.

But as I always say, the world
is going to hell in a handcart.

Desperate times call
for desperate measures.

Thank you for that,

Mr. Potts.
Mm.

I can assure you,

I will do my utmost
to solve this case.

Well, as your new client,

I must insist on daily briefings
for any developments.

♪ ♪

I look forward to it.

So, do you know of anyone

who might have had a grudge
against Mr. Turner?

Someone he worked with,
perhaps?

But what if it was
just a robbery?

Missing cashbox,
stolen brass handles...

That is still a possibility,
but as I told Detective Phelps,

a funeral parlor
is an odd place to rob,

particularly one
that was clearly on hard times.

As I said before, Theobald
was an excellent undertaker.

Miss Scarlet is not doubting
that for a moment, Barnabus.

She just needs to consider
all possibilities.

(exhales, murmurs)

Well, in answer
to your question,

I can think of no one
who'd wish to harm Theobald.

As for work colleagues, well,

he was increasingly
working alone.

He hired in help
only when he needed it.

Oh, you did
mention his sister.

Oh, yes.

Yes, thank, thank you, Ivy.

Um, a Miss Francesca Turner.

She resides in Bristol.

I presume she'll be
at the funeral, but who knows?

Well, why wouldn't she be?

They've been estranged
for many years.

Which is why, as executor
to Theobald's will,

I was surprised to learn that

he's left his entire business
to her.

♪ ♪

MINISTER:
The Lord is my light

and my salvation.

Whom shall I fear?

The Lord is
the stronghold of my life.

Of whom shall I be afraid?

When the wicked advance
against me to devour me,

it is my enemies
and my foes...

(softly):
I don't see any sign
of the woman

who could be
Mr. Turner's sister.

(people coughing softly)

POTTS:
Over there, by the tree.

♪ ♪

ELIZA:
Excuse me,
you're Mr. Turner's sister?

I am-- Miss Francesca Turner.

Miss Eliza Scarlet.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Mr. Potts mentioned you.

A female private detective.

It seems almost as unlikely
as a female undertaker,

which I now seem to be.

Yes, I heard your brother left
you the business in his will.

Was that something
you were expecting?

I suspect you already
know the answer to that.

(horse nickers)

I did hear the two of you
were estranged.

You do not waste time,
do you, Miss Scarlet?

(chuckles):
I apologize, but it is my job
to ask questions,

and, well, my swiftness
is for good reason.

To find out what happened
to your brother.

I have not seen Theobald
in over 20 years.

There is some regret there
for both of us,

it seems, given
that he left me the business.

You live in Bristol, I believe--
will you now move to London?

(chuckles):
I've no inclination
to become an undertaker.

I had quite enough
of that in my childhood

when my father
ran the business.

I will stay for as long
as it takes to sell.

But it may take some time.

There are clauses in the will
which I must take into account.

Such as?

Theobald did not want me to sell
to a particular funeral home.

Hardcastle's.

Which is a shame, because,
according to my solicitor,

they're the only ones
to have made an offer.

Why do you think your brother
would make such a request?

Theobald and John Hardcastle
had always been

old business rivals,
as our fathers were before them.

I can only imagine things
had somehow

festered further between them.

Miss Scarlet.

(footsteps retreating)

♪ ♪

(knock at door)

I've managed to garner
some information

on Hardcastle's Funeral
Directors.

(moans softly)

Are you quite well, Clarence?

Yes, yes, uh...
(chuckles)

I, I persuaded the clerk
of the Funeral Directors' Guild

to have a drink with me.

I am, as a rule,
teetotal, but, um,

I thought I should do
what I could

for the sake of the company.

(laughs):
How very resourceful of you.

And what did
you find out from this drink?

Well, Hardcastle's have
expanded extremely quickly

over recent years,

buying up smaller funeral homes
across the city.

But rumors of malpractice

have followed them round
like a bad smell.

(whimpers)

(moans, sniffs)

The clerk told me that there
had been numerous complaints

against the firm to the guild.

The latest was, um,
from an Albert Edmunds.

He's a former employee
of Hardcastle's.

I have his address.

(moaning)

Perhaps I need
a little lie-down.

(grunts)

(people talking and calling
in background)

EDMUNDS:
Oh, I never met Mr. Turner,

but I heard mention of him
a number of times.

I know Mr. Hardcastle
was determined

to take over the business,
but Mr. Turner wouldn't sell.

So, you filed a complaint
against your former employer?

I, I was an apprentice
for Mr. Hardcastle.

I saw it all.

Him making people pay for
funerals they couldn't afford,

introducing them
to moneylenders,

and when they couldn't
afford the payments,

thugs were sent round to make
them pay-- intimidation,

smashing windows.

And the Funeral Directors'
Guild, what did they say?

Didn't want to know.

Mr. Hardcastle has them
in his pocket.

Is that why you left
the company?

Well, I was dismissed
for no good reason.

I was just told by one of
Mr. Hardcastle's assistants

that I was no longer needed.

If I was looking for someone

who had cause
to kill Mr. Turner,

Mr. Hardcastle would be
the top of my list.

♪ ♪

ELIZA:
Thank you for allowing me
this access.

It's, it's most useful.

Theobald and I may not
have seen eye to eye,

but I still want

whoever harmed him
to face justice.

Why did you not
see eye to eye?

You know how
it is with family.

No one can vex you like
your own flesh and blood.

If my father could
see me now.

Owner of the family business.

And your father?

I cannot imagine he approves
of your line of work.

My father
was a police officer

and later
a private investigator.

He was an enlightened man, but
he didn't want this life for me.

He knew it would be
a difficult path.

In every household, there is
at least one resourceful woman.

If more of us were accepted,

Mr. Potts's lament that

the world is going
to hell in a handcart

might no longer be the case.

(bell tolling in background)

Miss Turner.

A glazier hired to replace
the same windows twice,

three weeks apart.

♪ ♪

One of Hardcastle's
former employees told me

intimidation
was his trademark.

I believe your brother
was being pressured to sell,

and breaking windows
was one such tool.

Clarence, I want you
to send a message

to Inspector Wellington.

See if Mr. Turner
filed a complaint

about his windows being smashed.

Oh, and, um,
see if you can get me

copies of the murder file.

I don't hold out much
hope that Detective Black

has been particularly
comprehensive

in his investigation
so far,

but, uh, you never know.

What is it?

Uh, some flowers were
left for you on the doorstep.

Inspector Wellington,
no doubt.

He does hate it
when we're at odds.

They're not
from the inspector,

nor from anyone else
who wishes you well.

It is, I, I believe,
a threat.

♪ ♪

(people clamoring in background)

(shoving, clamoring)

(man snoring softly)

God's sake--
can you please remove

this gentleman
from the corridor?

Put him in a cell
if you have to.

Yes, sir.

Sir, I have a message
from Miss Scarlet.

(exhales):
Ah.

It's a question
about the undertaker.

Detective Black
is leading that investigation.

Give it to him.
Actually, sir,

he handed in his notice.

Um, one crime scene was enough
for him, so...
Where's Charlie?

Detective Phelps is still
in Leeds on the Haymarket case.

Fine, get me the file.

It seems like I'll be doing this
myself,

with all my spare time.
Very good, sir.

And was there something else,
Detective?

Actually, yes, um, sir.

An opportunity has arisen,
in New York.

They've invited a detective
from Scotland Yard

to join their police department
for a year's secondment.

Sir.
And I thought about applying.

What do you think, sir?

I think the last thing I need
is to be another man down.

Ah.

(clears throat):
Yes, of course.

I realize this might
not have been

the best time to mention it.

Oliver, if you're asking whether
I will support your application,

then, of course, I will--
perhaps we can find

a more convenient time
to discuss it?

Yes, sir, of course, sir.

So, this file?

Yes! Yes, sir!

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

HARDCASTLE:
Miss Manners.

Yes--
Mr. Hardcastle, I presume.

My condolences on the passing
of your great-aunt.

My assistant informed me
you were hoping

I would personally handle

the day-to-day arrangements
of the funeral.

But due to my workload,

I'm afraid that's not going
to be possible.

Oh, no.
But Mr. Ashley here

will look after you

and provide you with
round-the-clock assistance.

It was nice to have met you.

Oh, well, if I cannot rely
on the services

of the director in charge
of the company,

then it is with a heavy heart
that I must go elsewhere.

(voice trembling):
Which is such a shame,

since I did so want

the best in town to oversee
the funeral of my beloved aunt.

There'll be people
of great influence

and import in attendance.

No expense will be spared.

(clears throat, stammering):
Um, do you know, Miss Manners,

I believe I can rearrange

some of my schedule
to accommodate you.

Yes, shall we?

♪ ♪

This is from
our premium range.

Handmade from
the finest Canadian elm.

Lined with exquisite satin

from the very best manufacturers
in Paris.

(inhales)

It's very nice, indeed.

Hm.
(knock at door)

Excuse me, sir--
there's an Inspector Wellington

here from Scotland Yard.

What are you doing here?

Do you know
Miss Manners?

Well, yes, of course.

Three years ago, you assisted
with an investigation

into a theft from my carriage
on Bond Street.

Miss Manners, remember?

Miss Manners.

Yes, I remember now.

Miss Scarlet,
what are you doing here?

Who is Miss Scarlet?

♪ ♪

What do you mean,
she's a private detective?

I believe Miss Scarlet
is investigating the case

of the dead
Mr. Theobald Turner.

As am I.

(inhales):
It's come to our attention

that you were putting pressure
on Mr. Turner to sell.

He filed a complaint
about

some windows of his
being smashed,

and he believed
that that was connected to you.

What nonsense.

I know nothing
of any windows being broken.

There was merely
a healthy rivalry between us.

A former employee claims
that you sell funeral plans

to the poor who cannot
afford the repayments.

You then introduce them

to a moneylender,
who uses strong-arm tactics

when they default
on what they owe.

You speak of Albert Edmunds?

Let me tell you,
it's nothing more

than sour grapes
on account of his dismissal.

The man was useless.

Where were you on
the morning of Tuesday

last week, Mr. Hardcastle?

You are not seriously
asking me to give you an alibi?

(sighs)

I was coming back from a family
gathering in Eastbourne

with my wife and children.

I wonder if you could
identify this.

It came with some flowers
that were left for me yesterday.

Clearly a warning.

The card matches those
used by your firm, does it not?

Well, clearly,
someone is trying to defame me.

Why on Earth would I use
my own calling card?

♪ ♪

Don't blame me.

All I am saying is
that your Detective Black

clearly missed evidence
that Mr. Turner

was being intimidated
by Hardcastle.

He's not my Detective Black--
I hardly knew the man.

He was drafted in from Essex
to address the lack of manpower.

We need at least 15
experienced detectives,

and the super sent us one
barely out of uniform.

Have you been in
to Scotland Yard recently?

You can hardly get
into reception-- it's chaos.

I'm very pleased you've
taken on the case, William.

But if you're so busy,

you should never have agreed

to stop using the services
of private investigators.

So, you are blaming me.

I have to blame someone.

ELIZA:
So, what else have you
found out?

That there was a witness
who saw a heavyset man

with dark hair and a prominent
scar on his cheek

leaving the scene after Mr.
Turner's windows were smashed.

That certainly doesn't
sound like Hardcastle,

and we've no proof
that he arranged it.

Hm.

I don't like the idea
that someone is threatening you.

I get threatened
all the time, William.

Surely, I've been doing
this job long enough

for you to be comfortable
with that.

I'll never be comfortable
with that.

(knock at door)

(door opens)
POTTS:
Miss Scarlet.

Oh, Inspector.

(door closes)

Mr. Potts.
Mr. Potts.

I, I have come
for my daily briefing,

but, uh...

Do I gather by
your presence, Inspector,

that you are now involved
in this case?

I am.

Oh, that's reassuring, indeed!

Well, thank you,
Mr. Potts.

It's nice to know
that someone appreciates me.

So, if that is the case,
then,

I no longer require
Miss Scarlet's assistance.

Firstly, Mr. Potts, please
address that question to me.

And secondly,
may I remind you,

we have a contractual
agreement.

I'm afraid you are
stuck with me.

♪ ♪

Yes, well, I should
get back to Scotland Yard.

I'll leave you
to your briefing.

Yes, thank you, William.

Ah, yes, thank you, Will...
Inspector.

(breathes deeply)

So, Mr. Turner did mention

that Hardcastle had tried
to intimidate him.

Yes-- on occasion.

But you never thought
to mention that to me.

I did...
(exhales)

I did not wish to speak ill
of my friend.

(breathes deeply)

But I felt Theobald
had developed

an unhealthy obsession
with Mr. Hardcastle.

Blaming him for the failure
of his business,

and, oh, everything
in between.

What do you class
as obsession?

At one point, he said he was
compiling a file on the man.

I had a rising concern

that Theobald had become
quite paranoid.

♪ ♪

(knocking)

Come in, Miss Scarlet.

Just finishing off

packing the last of my brother's
personal effects.

Can I ask if you've found
a certain file

your brother kept
on Mr. Hardcastle?

I have, indeed.

I was planning to bring it
to your office.

But it's more
than just a file.

Complaints
to the Funeral Directors' Guild.

Newspaper articles about
Hardcastle's advertisements.

So, Barnabus was right.

His friend Mr. Turner

was utterly obsessed
with Mr. Hardcastle.

His broken windows.

This must refer to the
glazier's receipts I found.

He even has a list
of other undertakers

who appear to have their windows
smashed in the same manner.

He was obsessed,
and thorough.

He even kept the bricks?

They all have the same initials
on them.

♪ ♪

"S.P."

(dogs barking,
people talking in background)

(foreman speaking Russian)

Excuse me?

Excuse me.

I'm, uh, looking for
the proprietor, Mr. Petrov.

He's away from work.

Well, can you tell me
when he'll be back?

His wife, she died, and...

Only weeks after, his daughter.

He has not been in good way
for months now.

I'm sorry to hear that.

I'm looking for one
of his customers.

Dark hair,
scar on his cheek?

I don't know this man.

I must go back to work now.

I've, uh,

visited a number
of undertakers

who've had their windows
smashed with bricks

engraved with
Mr. Petrov's initials.

It's clear there's a link to
this business and the crimes.

I haven't yet told the police,
but will be forced

to do so if my inquiries
remain unanswered.

Mr. Petrov himself may be
implicated in the crimes,

which is surely
the last thing he needs.

(quietly):
The man with the scar
is a moneylender.

Tomasz Mazelli.

Mr. Petrov owed him
for his family's funerals.

He comes for regular payment.

Always takes a box of bricks,
which he never pays for.

♪ ♪

(footsteps approaching)

(door opens)

(door closes)
(inhales):
Tell me, Eliza,

do you think
that you'll ever learn to knock?

Um, no.

I've secured the name
and work address

of the moneylender
Tomasz Mazelli.

He has an office off Long Acre--
shall we?

Well, I'm busy with a great
deal of other cases,

including that of a high-profile
robbery in Haymarket, so,

I will come to your case
when I can.

Of course.

So you'll wait.

No, William.

But as you say,

you're too busy to go
and see the man who was, uh,

almost probably the one
who sent me those lilies

and threatened my life.

But, uh...

Well, I'm sure I'll be fine

to visit such a dangerous,
violent criminal.

Alone.

(footsteps retreating)

(breathes deeply)

(people talking in background)

(door closes)

I'm Inspector Wellington
from Scotland Yard.

Tomasz Mazelli around?

(exhales)

He's out.

Well, do you know
when he'll be back?

I don't know, darling.

What am I, his missus?

No, you're his clerk.

And if you don't show
the lady some courtesy,

then you and I will be
talking alone

in a dark room

with no witnesses.

MAN (whimpering faintly):
Please help me!

(yelling):
Please, no!

♪ ♪

(man yelping)

(grunts, man yelps)

♪ ♪

MAN:
Please! No, no, no!

(gun cocks)

Tomasz Mazelli, I presume?

(panting)

You're under arrest.

Mr. Edmunds.

You know him?

ELIZA:
He worked for Hardcastle.

(handcuffs locking)

I shouldn't have
reported Hardcastle.

ELIZA:
This isn't your fault.

You need to see a doctor.

Can one be arranged

when he comes to Scotland Yard
to make a statement?

I'm not making a statement.

I can arrange protection--
there's nothing to be scared of.

That's easy for you to say.

I, I just want
to be left alone.

This is part of a murder
investigation, sir.

Now, I can't force you
to press charges,

but I would appreciate it

if you'd at least
make a statement.

I don't want anything
to do with this.

Just let me be!
Mr. Edmunds...

Leave me alone!
Albert!

Please just
leave me alone!

(sighs)

There must be something
you can do.

He's not under arrest--
I can't force him to come.

Let's see what Mazelli
has to say.

Excuse me, sir?

A message for Miss Scarlet.

Is there nowhere
I can hide from that man?

(sighs)
(chuckles)

Oh! Miss Scarlet!

I feared you did not
get my note.

I was just on my way
to find you.

I came as quick as I could,
Mr. Potts.

Is all well?

Oh, not in the least.

Miss Turner came to see me,

to gift me an old board game
of Theobald's.

And this is what has upset you?

No.

It was the news she imparted

that caused me this distress.

Miss Turner,
contrary to the wishes

of her deceased brother

and my dear friend Theobald,

is to sell the funeral home
to Hardcastle's.

♪ ♪

What do you know about the
murder of Mr. Theobald Turner?

Don't know him.

Well, a witness has you
smashing Mr. Turner's windows.

I believe that
that was on the orders

of another undertaker,
John Hardcastle.

Don't know him, either.

Hm.

Where were you
on Tuesday afternoon?

I was at the
Broad Street Hotel.

Went in for a drink.

I like one of
the waitresses there.

(chuckles)

(inhales):
Oh, I've, uh...

I've dealt with many
moneylenders in the past,

and it's my experience
that all of them, bar none,

have a deep aversion

to paying their dues
to Her Majesty's Revenue.

And as I am sure you know,

as a businessman
in the financial sector,

avoidance of tax contributions
carries a hefty prison sentence.

You won't find nothing
on me.

Well, in that case,
you have nothing to fear

whilst we undertake
an investigation

into your
business dealings.

In the meantime,
your accounts

and all your assets
will be frozen.

Don't worry,
that won't take too long.

A couple of months
should do it.

What do you want from me?

Information about the day
that Mr. Turner died.

I was at the hotel
for Mr. Hardcastle.

He was being bothered by
some woman he'd clearly...

You know.

Been with.

He didn't want
his missus to find out.

So, he hired me
to pay her a visit

to encourage her
to leave the town.

I went to her room, 402,
but she never returned.

What was her name?

(chimes)

Yes, ma'am.

I'm looking for one of your
guests, a Miss Francesca Turner.

Mm-hmm.

WILLIAM:
She's in room 402.

Francesca Turner has been having
an affair with Hardcastle.

Miss Turner
has checked out, I'm afraid.

♪ ♪

The day Mazelli was sent
to warn Miss Turner off

was the day that
her brother was murdered.

So, she was in London that day,
yet she never mentioned it.

Which makes her
our prime suspect.

The question is,
where is she?

The lawyer who
dealt with the will

is likely to have her
home address in Bristol.

We can get it from him.

I'll send a message.

For Hardcastle
to go to the effort

of sending Mazelli
to scare her,

it seems likely she must have
wanted something from him.

Or just threatened
to tell his wife about them.

Let's ask the man himself.

WILLIAM:
I have a signed statement from
Tomasz Mazelli implicating you

in the intimidation
of Mr. Theobald Turner

in the weeks
leading up to his murder.

Intimidation?
ELIZA:
The statement also claims

you were fraternizing
with Miss Francesca Turner.

Something your wife
might be interested to know.

WILLIAM:
Why did you send Tomasz Mazelli
to scare her off?

What did she want from you?

It's a personal matter.

Well, perhaps you'd feel
more comfortable if we

invited Mrs. Hardcastle in
to join us.

I have never been unfaithful
to my wife.

♪ ♪

Francesca and I,
it was more...

More than 20 years ago.

And yes, I was engaged
to my wife at the time,

but we weren't married.

And yet you've seen
Miss Turner recently.

She'd fallen on hard times
and come to me for money.

When I was unwilling
to help her out,

she threatened
to tell my wife about us.

That's why I sent Mazelli.

Plain and simple.

♪ ♪

(fire crackling)

Do you believe it was money

Miss Turner
went to see him about?

It's possible.

I suppose if she was
desperate for money

and Hardcastle refused,

perhaps she then went
to call on her brother

and it went badly wrong?

(clicks tongue)

Something still
feels amiss here.

Well, let's see what
comes back from Bristol.

As soon as Miss Turner
arrives home,

the police will be
waiting for her.

(inhales):
Right.

I need to update the super
on the Haymarket robbery.

You're having a meeting
at...

10:00 at night?

Yes, Eliza,
this place never sleeps.

Go home.

We'll pick this up
in the morning, all right?

(sighs)

(knocks)

Where's the inspector?

I have a message
regarding Miss Turner.

What, they found her?

No, but the Bristol police
spoke to her neighbor.

He said Miss Turner moved in

when she married her husband
18 years previous.

Her husband passed
earlier this year.

PHELPS:
Oi, his lordship!
I need you.

Charlie--
didn't know you were back.

Miss me, did you?
Oh, I'm touched.

Now stop batting your eyelashes
at Miss Scarlet

and get a move on.

You go.

I'll give it
to Inspector Wellington.

(chuckles)

"Francesca Turner married
a Peter Edmunds..."

Edmunds.

♪ ♪

Albert Edmunds.

(dogs barking)

Excuse me.
Hm?

Is a Mr. Edmunds here?

No, love.

I'm picking up him
and his mother next.

You're picking them up
from where?

♪ ♪

(footsteps approaching)

(knocks)

(faintly):
One moment, Miss Scarlet.

Cannot talk for long.

Carriage is on its way to
take me to the railway station.

You and your son.

♪ ♪

I know you are
Albert Edmunds' mother,

Miss Turner.

And I'm right in thinking
that

Mr. Hardcastle is his father.

That's why you went to him
for money.

♪ ♪

Yes.

Albert is my son.

But from my marriage
to Peter Edmunds,

who is now deceased.

You were only married to him
for 18 years.

I checked the census--
Albert is 21.

(exhales)

I believe you left London

because you became
pregnant by a man

both your father
and brother despised.

That's why you were
estranged, isn't it?

You were also in London

the day of
your brother's murder.

♪ ♪

(sighs)

You went to Hardcastle to
look for your son, didn't you?

But he turned you away.

So then what?
You went to your brother

to see if he knew
where Albert was, is...

Is that what happened?

(bells ringing in next room)
(gasps)

When I, when I saw
my brother,

the resentment from the past,
it gripped us both.

We had, we had an argument.

(inhales):
I became angry, and...

(voice breaking):
Pushed him.

It was an accident.

♪ ♪

The police are on their way--
I'll...

I'll go to Scotland Yard
with you to make a statement.

(bells ringing)

No, no, no, no,
I, I want to go now.

(bells continue)

Where is your son,
Miss Turner?

Um, he's left London.

I gave him the money from
the sale of the business.

He's, um,
he's heading to France.

Start a new life.

There's no sense in waiting--
let, let's go now.

Just one moment.

But, please!

I, I just want
to get this over with!

(footsteps approaching)

The bells were caused
by the draft from the window.

It's nothing.

The window's not open,
Miss Turner.

Will you please just
take me to Scotland Yard

so this matter can be closed?

♪ ♪

Your son isn't on his way
to France, is he?

Where is he, Miss Turner?

I don't know
what you're talking about.

(floorboards creaking)

♪ ♪

This is ridiculous!

He is not here, nor has he
done anything wrong!

(lid closes)

♪ ♪

Run!

♪ ♪

You're not going anywhere,
son.

Albert, no, please.

No, please!

Get him in the wagon.

No, please, please,
let my boy go!

He didn't mean to do
anything wrong.

It was an accident!

OFFICER:
Come on.

Please!
EDMUNDS:
Mother!

(crying):
Please...

EDMUNDS:
Please help me, Mother!

Please...

EDMUNDS:
I'd just turned 21

when my mother
told me the truth.

That the man who died
earlier this year

wasn't my real father.

And I was relieved.

He was a horrible drunk.

Led her a miserable life.

Taking on a woman
with an illegitimate child

made him think he could do
whatever he liked

and she would just
have to put up with it.

When he died, she went back
to her maiden name.

That's how much
she hated him.

So you came to London
to find your real father?

We'd rowed about the fact
she'd lied to me, and I left.

I traveled here
and got a job

as an apprentice
at Hardcastle's.

A few months later,
I plucked up the courage

and told him who I was.

(voice breaking):
I just

wanted him to acknowledge
he was my father.

I didn't want
anything from him.

But he rejected you.

So, I went to see my uncle,
and he turned me away, too,

and I got so angry.

The way they'd treated
my mother all these years,

and now me.

The fury just took me over,
and,

and I, I pushed him.

And he hit his head.

Your mother was in town
that day, too.

Oh, no, no!

She had no part in this,
I swear it.

She came looking for me.

Went to Hardcastle's and
found out he'd sacked me.

She spent the next few days

trying to find out
where I was staying,

but London is a big place.

When Mazelli got hold of me,

he told me he'd been
to visit my mother at the hotel.

It was only then
that I knew she was in town,

and I went to find her.

♪ ♪

(crying):
I told her where I'd been.

And what I'd done.

I needed my mother.

I needed her help.

I was the only man in her life
who ever loved her.

And now I've
broken her heart, too.

(sobbing)

♪ ♪

That poor woman has lost
the only child she had.

She has no family now.

I know what that's like.

I'm your family, William.

Do I not annoy you
like a younger sister?

Frequently.

(laughs)

(chuckles)

(knock at door)

Sorry to disturb, Skipper,
but I've got news

on the Haymarket robbery--
my snitch from up north

has just come through,
he's given up

a possible location
where the gang are hiding.

Excellent, Charlie.

Alert the men to come
to my office immediately

and let the super know

we'll carry out a raid
first thing.

Yes, Skip.

(door closes)
I'll leave you to it.

Eliza, I was wondering...

Are you free to dine
tomorrow evening?

But we've only just had
our monthly dinner.

Well, I can overlook that
if you can.

Tomorrow evening it is, then.

(footsteps retreating,
door opens and closes)

♪ ♪

(bell ringing)

(sizzling)

♪ ♪

It was nice doing business
with you, Mr. Potts.

Well, Miss Scarlet,

I, I'd like to say
it was...

It was a relief
that the culprit was found.

And that Mr. Hardcastle
and his moneylender

will also face
some consequences, so...

So, yes, a satisfying conclusion
all round.

It was, as you say, a,
a satisfying conclusion,

so I wonder
if you have any comments

on my handling of the case,
Mr. Potts.

What?

You did a very, um,

capable job, Miss Scarlet.

Thank you.

I'm just happy to be able to
demonstrate my professionalism.

Hm.

So, if, in the future,
Miss Scarlet

did feel the need
to call on you

for some kind of
dispensation,

for example,

access to the mortuary,

perhaps you will find
that she's only

the very best of intentions

and poses no threat

to your protocol, Barnabus.

♪ ♪

(sighing):
Oh...

Oh, perhaps
we may agree that from...

...now on you are able
to enter the mortuary.

Uh, under police supervision,
of course.

(sighs)

Well, I must be getting
to work.

Oh, and I won't be home
for dinner, Ivy.

I will be dining with Inspector
Wellington this evening.

What?

Nothing, I just thought

you had your monthly dinner
quite recently.

Still keeping count, I see.

Mr. Potts.

Miss Scarlet.

Thank you, my dear.

♪ ♪

Where've you been?

And where's the backup?

I've got bad news, sir.

The super diverted
the uniforms to Hatton Garden.

Some diamond heist gone wrong.

Three dead, apparently.

Well?
PHELPS:
I've been round the back.

From what I can see,
they're on the move.

Gathering their things.

This might be
the last chance we get

to nab these scum,
Skipper.

But there's too many exits
for us to cover, sir.

We need more men.

♪ ♪

We're going in.

Charlie, you go around
the back-- you, go with him.
Sir.

You take the side entrance
to the left.

Fitzroy, you're with me--
we'll go through the front.

Remember, lads, we have
the advantage of surprise,

so let's show them
who they're dealing with.

All right?

DETECTIVE:
Yes, sir.
DETECTIVE: Sir.

Let's go.

PHELPS:
Come on, lads.

DETECTIVE:
Right, let's go, boys.

♪ ♪

(door crashes in)

WILLIAM:
Police! Put down your weapons!

I said put them down, now!
(men shouting)

(guns firing, glass breaking)

(humming)

(bell ringing in distance)

(birds chirping outside)

♪ ♪

(humming)

Detective Fitzroy.

(stammering):
Miss Scarlet...

Eliza...

(bell ringing in distance)

What is it?
What's happened?

It's Inspector Wellington.

What about him?

(voice trembling):
He's been shot.

(bell continues)

They're performing
surgery, but...

They're not optimistic.

They cannot say for certain
if he will survive.

♪ ♪

(click)

Lizzie!

You've been expelled!

IVY:
You're 16 years old, Lizzie!

It's time you grew up!

My name's Detective
Inspector Henry Scarlet.

And you are?
William Wellington.

Wellington, as in the duke?

Hello again.

Hello.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

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♪ ♪