All language subtitles for Sherlock.and.Daughter.S01E05.Doubting.Thomas.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-Kitsune_Subtítulos01.ENG

The murder weapon.

Wise of you to keep it.

Lucia Rojas, my mother, she was
another victim of the Red Thread

We are preparing to commit the
greatest offense ever conceived.

Now that our Lordship is gone,
my lady, perhaps we can

think of a better way to get
acquainted.

He tried to...

It is telephony that I wish to
study.

Telephones serve no useful
purpose in detection.

Take my rescue of the American
ambassador's daughter.

You also recovered the
ambassador's stolen jewels?

Not yet, no.

I am personally taking
over this investigation,

so I'm confident the
jewels will be found.

I'm Michael Wylie.

Alias adopted by the son of
a very dangerous criminal,

also known as Dan Moriarty.

I think spying's an ugly word.

What are you
interested in then?

Your employer's relationship
to Professor Moriarty.

If you could find out,
I'd be very grateful.

I'll wait for you tomorrow
at Mrs. Bailey's tea

house on Park Road.

Come in, Mrs. Halligan,
and bring Detective Swan

and his friend with you.

Sorry, Mr. Holmes, but how did
you know who was visiting?

I heard three sets of
feet on the stairs,

and it took no great effort
to deduce that the telephone

installer, Detective
Swan, promised

will be here by 9 AM,
has inexplicably arrived

at half past 3 in the afternoon.

Good day, Mr. Holmes, and
allow me to introduce you to--

Mr. Pete Pound, at your service.

I suppose in the future,
whenever you're delayed,

you could always call
ahead on my new telephone.

As you say, sir.

Now, where do you want
the device installed?

Somewhere over here by the desk.

Mr. Holmes, reconsider.

Bringing that contraption
into your rooms will be

the end of your privacy.

No, no, no, Mrs. Hulligan.

Imagine connecting to the
whole wide world while sitting

comfortably in your parlor.

Why, you could summon
the police or a doctor

or even speak to distant
relatives and friends.

It's quite marvellous.

Excuse me, sir.

I just need to make
some measurements.

Sorry, sir.

When I opened
the door, these

hoodlums ran past me.

No problem, Mr. Halligan.

I was expecting
these young

men. Yes, sure.

What is it?

Sorry to come unannounced,
Mr. Holmes, but we

found that Michael Wylie
you were looking for.

Wonderful. Wonderful.

Detective Swan.

I assume you can finish this
installation without me?

Yes, of course, Mr. Holmes.

And, uh, Mr. and Mrs. Halligan,
I will leave you in command.

And now, Shaw, if
you and your friends

could please introduce
me to Mr. Wylie.

I began to think you
weren't going to come.

Am I permitted to
say how much I was

looking forward to seeing you?

You can keep your flowers.

I'm only here to say
that I won't tell

you anything about Mr. Holmes.

But I thought we'd agreed that--
No, no, my agreement was with

someone called Michael Wylie.

Your name is Dan Moriarty,
and your father is

a dangerous criminal who's
tried to kill Mr. Holmes,

who was talking about
you as I walked out the

door this morning.

Please, please,
people will hear.

That's how you begin
an apology, for lying?

No, no, no, no, of
course, I regret very much

that I lied, but...

Mrs. Halligan, please make
sure that neither Detective

Swan nor Mr. Pound enter this
room for the next few minutes.

Of course, sir.

Now, I demand an explanation for
your reprehensible behavior.

I didn't-- Not
you, the Moriarty.

Now, on our journey
over here, Miss Rojas

claimed that you pressured
her into spying on me.

Do you deny it?

And I warn you, sir, this
is not mere curiosity.

Before you leave
here today, I must

be satisfied with your answers.

It's a long story, Mr. Holmes.

Well, feel free to summarize.

As your father has
learned to his cost,

my ability to extrapolate
from limited information

may surprise you.

It's with my father
the story begins.

After my mother died,
my father was consumed

with grief and work,
left to my own devices,

I was adopted by
a band of thieves

who tricked me into
picking people's pockets

for their benefit.

Another missing chapter
from Oliver Twist.

I had little skill as a
thief, and at the age of

nine I was arrested.

But you were just a child.

The Crown saw it differently.

They bundled me
off to Australia,

and I was sold as an
indentured servant

to an isolated sheep farm.

How could they
do such a thing?

There was a plague of
juvenile delinquents in London

and a labor shortage
in Australia,

and the decision to solve
one of these problems

with the other was both inhumane
and extremely popular politics.

They emptied the jails, yes,
but they also emptied the poor

houses and the orphanages.

Little kids torn
from their families,

Exiled halfway around
the world in conditions

it would be improper for
a young lady to hear.

I know a lot about
forced child labor.

Maybe the British got the idea
from California's missions.

Surely you were never
treated so badly.

I could have been.

If my mother and I had
not had our own ranch.

How long were you living
in forced servitude?

Took me 14 months to escape and
change my name to Michael Wylie.

And 14 years of constant
application in order to obtain

a position in a trading company
with a branch here in London.

Since my father had not found
me, I resolved to find him.

Not long after arriving here,
however, I discovered that

Professor James Moriarty was
not teaching mathematics,

but is the master of a
vast criminal empire

and sentenced to prison.

Where he insists
you visit him.

One day, once he's paid
his debt to society,

I hope that Father and
I will be reunited.

But should I visit him under
his current circumstances,

my employer might discover
who I really am and--

Your job and your
future would be forfeit.

Imagine, abandoned
by your father,

growing up the child of
a man who didn't seem to

know you existed.

Yes, how awful.

Amelia, please go upstairs
and pack your belongings.

What? Why?

Well, as we discussed,
you'll be moving

to the ambassador's household
as chaperone to his daughter.

But I thought -- We will
review this great good change

in your personal fortunes
once you have packed.

Mr. Holmes, please, I
beg you, hear me out.

Ah, hello.

Detective Swan of the Scotland
Yard Scientific Division.

Um, nice
to meet you.

I'm Amelia Ross.

Are you here to
consult Mr. Holmes?

No, I work for him.

Well, I'm here to
supervise the installation

of his new telephone.

Have you ever used one before?

No, not yet.

Oh, well, if you'd
ever like to practice,

just call this number.

I've just had it connected,
so I will answer.

I spend most of my days
in my office, all hours.

Can I just?

Oh, yes, of course.

Sorry to delay you.

And since visiting him in
prison is out of the question,

I'm worried my father's release
could be further delayed,

should you bring more
accusations against him,

which I believe you
would, if you could.

On that point, you
speak truthfully?

If the law allowed, I
would keep the professor

behind bars forever.

That, alas, is
beyond my ability.

What I can do, however, is
demand that you stay as far

away from Amelia as possible.

You have no right to
make a demand like that.

Now, listen to me very
carefully, Mr. Moriarty.

I am ordering you-- -
Under what authority?

You just released her
from your appointment.

I will not argue the point!

A foreigner of mixed heritage
without rank or position

cannot afford to associate
herself with a man who

uses an alias, Mr. Wylie.

Besides, you can no longer keep
your father at a distance.

He insists you visit him.

I am only a clerk
on the exchange.

My hours are determined by
Sir Nigel Parks, my employer.

If you can find the time
to take tea with my maid,

you can manage to
see your father.

Sir, I told him to stay outside.

Perhaps I should
finish another day.

I'll be available again
three weeks from tomorrow.

This is preposterous
that a paying customer

should be so ill-used.

Very well, Mr. Pound,
continue your work.

Any last words, Mr. Wylie?

I'm surprised to find someone
of your intellect, Mr. Holmes.

mistaking current circumstances
for future prospects.

Perhaps time will
reveal just how much

you underestimated my abilities.

Oh, before I take my
leave, Mr. Holmes,

I should like to say
that Amelia refused

a considerable sum
to spy on you.

Well, that's just exactly
what I would expect you

to say under the circumstances.

Mrs. Halligan, please
show our guest out.

Yes, sir, Mr. Holmes.

You nearly finished, Mr. Pound.

Oh, sure.

Extremely close.

I told Mr. Halligan
you're sending me away.

It's completely unfair.

Just because I didn't tell you
that Dan was following me?

You keep things from
me all the time.

Your move to the Ambassador's
household was settled

long before I discovered
you with Mr. Moriarty,

about whom I will say only this.

You're newly arrived in
London, and young men will

take ruthless advantage
of naive young girls.

I beg you, do not
encourage his attentions.

I'm a stranger to
London, not boys.

I know we talked about me
working with the Andersons,

but this just feels like
you're punishing me

for jumping down
after you told me

not to confront anyone
for following me.

You disobeyed me.

True. And you
should not have,

and you ought to have
admitted it sooner.

But your new job as
Clara's chaperone

is not a punishment.

It is an accommodation
with the Andersons

that I could not refuse.

Once you're inside the
Ambassador's household,

then you will no longer be
overtly connected to me,

and the risk to your
life should diminish.

I can take care of myself.

Can Clara.

Now remember, she was
released by her kidnappers

in exchange for keys,
but keys to what?

Now we must protect Clara.

We don't know which keys
the ambassador traded

for her return.

Now Charlie the
coachman is lost to us,

so Clara is our best
connection to the thread.

And if we want to find
Watson and Mrs. Hudson

and identify your
mother's killer,

then we must seize every
opportunity thrown our way.

And your position in the
Ambassador's household

increases our reach.

Now, this will be
my telephone number

whenever this interminable
installation ends.

If you learn anything
new about the Thread,

you can call me at once.

Alright.

I'll do what I can.

Thank you.

And, Amelia,

remember Lord Withersea killed
himself to escape the Red Thread

and to spare his family.

So please, please
stay on your guard.

Each of you is
either a foreigner

or a merchant's daughter,
disadvantaged by

birth and class.

you may depend on it when
I tell you posture is

synonymous with nobility.

Men of rank can spot a slumped
shoulder from across a ballroom.

Everyone, one step
forward, two steps back.

Again. Head erect,
faint smile.

One step forward,
two steps back.

This is what it
means to be a lady.

Now.

Now, while maintaining
your balance,

suggest a suitable topic
for a lady to discuss

with the gentleman.

Clara?

Art.

Good. Especially if you never
take too strong an opinion.

The gentleman may disagree
with what you like.

Emma?

Politics?

Absolutely not.

The gentleman might
share his opinions.

They often do.

Ladies are above these
mundane concerns.

Over brandy and cigars, men
believe they control the world,

but we will control
them, ladies.

And that is our path to power.

God. That
will be all

for the day, Clara.

I should like to talk with
you privately for a moment.

Someone gather up all the
books and put them back

where they belong.

Where would you like them?

Those go on the top shelf.

My dear girl, I'm sorry to
be the bearer of bad news.

Though you are still first
in line in case one appears

and the season might extend,
but we don't yet have

a date for your ball.

I have a plan.

Oh my gosh.

Clara, help me!

Please!

Somebody help!

Clara!
She's dead.

Oh my gosh.

Please!
Clara, why?

I'm not surprised you
want to share evidence.

For your interest in this
case is well known to me.

Oh, how so?

The young woman who helped
rescue the ambassador's daughter

is none other than your maid.

You don't deny she was
following your orders.

She pursues a personal cause
in connection with the case.

What could Miss Rojas possibly
have to do with 50,000 pounds

worth of stolen jewels?

And you asked the same
question of Lord Withersea

a few days ago, and three
murders and one suicide later.

I had no idea Withersea
was in financial distress.

Today, I'll admit
his involvement

seems more probable.

Withersea's complicity was
never less than conspicuous,

but I hardly think
he killed three men

before shooting himself.

It's a pity his coachman,
Rolirio Belfast, was murdered.

He would have made an
excellent suspect.

The police say he's a
revolutionary, dedicated

to overthrowing the crown.

That's an odd sort to
be employed by a lord.

Did you find the missing
jewels at Withersea's estate?

Alas, I did find two clues
that might interest you.

However, you suggested
we share information.

Yet I've done all the
talking, and you've

done nothing but listen.

As a habit, you would do
well to cultivate, Bertie.

Nevertheless, I'll take my turn.

Well, the two other dead men
you found at the Withersea

estate, Misters.

Weams and Magott,
were not, in fact,

Clara Anderson's
fellow hostages,

but accomplices
to her kidnapper,

all murdered by the
largest and most nefarious

criminal syndicate I
have yet to encounter,

attempting a crime
which appears to be,

absurd as it may sound,
beyond my imagination.

This is the same syndicate
with whom your maid

has some personal enemies?

They also murdered her mother
whilst the two of them

were living in California.

By the way, I don't
suppose during your search

for the missing jewels
you have ever come

across a weapon such as this?

I'm afraid not.

Why haven't you followed up
these allegations yourself?

People are watching me, Bertie.

If I'm seen to meddle in these
affairs, it could cost lives.

Suddenly, my clues no longer
seem quite so thrilling.

Well, they are to me.

I can't stay long.

What have you discovered?

Five pairs of footprints
and a button.

Well, that sounds,
uh, promising.

Uh, may well be, Mr. Holmes.

May well be.

Follow me.

I understand the
wilderness was poor

training for civilization,
but a servant may never

demand help of an employer.

Emma just died.

Be careful, little girl.

Like the lion in the
jungle, we did not turn the

world into an empire
without a very sharp claws.

You may want to remember that
when next you cry for help.

You can see the
first set of prints

belonged to a man
with a slight limp.

The second set
belonged to a woman

who stumbled once or
twice in her journey.

These two sets of prints
vanished next to the

tracks of a large carriage
which rolled out of the

driveway headed to London.

I think this button

was lost by the
gentleman en route,

but there's no way to tell.

Oh, but there is.

The button is not weathered.

Yes. So
freshly lost,

but not by accident.

Note how the thread broke.

This has been
yanked deliberately

from a man's waistcoat and
left behind as a talisman

for us to follow.

Well done, dear old friend.

Well done.

It's kind of you to say.

I'm happy the button tells
us more of what happened.

Not what, but whom.

You see how the button
is mother of pearl,

and the fabric to which it
was sewn was broadcloth.

So this comes from the wardrobe
of a professional fellow.

And you see how there is
a dent across the front

where it is regularly bumped
against metal, such as one

might find on a stethoscope.

This, button, Bertie,
is proof of life.

And I shall regard the
moment you gave it to me

as the first truly hopeful
sign in many weeks.

So this investigation is big
enough for the both of us.

Shall we proceed together?

If whilst continuing your
search for the missing jewels,

you could quickly verify
the recent murder of Lucia

Rojas outside the
city of Los Angeles

and confirm that Amelia
is indeed her daughter,

I'll share more with you
on this case tomorrow.

Until then, I suggest
you carry a revolver

with you at all times.

And on that note, I
bid you farewell.

Good day to you, Mr. Holmes.

Good luck.

Friends with
Sherlock Holmes, eh?

Imagine that.

I can't get the sight
of Emma out of my head.

Dead, just like that.

And Lady Violet seemed
so indifferent.

Did she dislike Emma?

No, not at all.

Emma was better at her
lessons than the rest of us,

and at dancing, too.

I've saved my invitations
for every ball of the season

so I can one day show
my own daughter.

Emma's was quite beautiful,
and she was so looking

forward to the 18th.

Now...

I did not ask you to
grease the top step

of your library ladder so the
girl would slip and fall.

Clara could wait
another year to debut,

except for your intrigues,
which I have advised against.

No, you listen to me.

My daughter will not have
her ball on the 18th.

Unless I have received
the full settlement

for the jewels two days prior.

I am focused on my part
of this enterprise.

Use your authority so that
the insurance company

pays me immediately
for my losses,

or I'll suffer the consequences.

I bid you goodnight.

Hello, operator?

Can you ring Mar-Mar-Le-Beau 15?

You mean Mar-Le-Beau?

Yes, yes.

One moment.

I'm sorry, the telephone
you're trying to call

is not a working number.

Mr. Pound, I must
demand an explanation.

You told me this telephone
would be operational yesterday.

If you don't
want me to finish,

call the other
telephone company.

Oh wait, there is no
other telephone company.

Your friend seems
to take great pride

in ridiculing his customers.

Oh, I don't think
he is any worse

than the other installers, sir.

While he finishes,
let us compare

these two telephone bills,
one listing calls to and from

the late Lord Withersea,
and the other documenting

all the calls in Chief
Inspector Whitlock's office.

Now, we will cross-reference
the numbers to see which

appear on both, and perhaps
we can begin to identify

some of our conspirators.

But, sir, should we not
have a warrant to study

private telephone bills?

As to that, Swan, I am not
an officer of the court.

I recognize no authority
higher than my own curiosity.

And this bill was handed
to me by Chief Inspector

Whitlock himself.

We are on firm legal ground.

One, two, three, one, two,
three, one, two, three, one,

two, three, one, two, three.

Very good.

Or good enough.

Now, as you know, the residence
of the Italian ambassador

lacks a proper ballroom.

So his daughter's debut
will be held here tomorrow,

starting in the late
afternoon, due to the

ambassador's inability to
comprehend our customs.

For now, however, I have
invited some young men

with whom you might
practice what we shall

charitably refer to
as your dancing.

While these boys are not
marriageable in any sense,

on the floor of the ballroom
and to the proper music,

They know the steps.

Come.

Like this, see?

Isn't it lovely?

Eleanor, please hold your
head up when you move

so your chin doesn't
spread out over your neck.

Deborah, you are supposed
to be led, not dragged.

Clumsy oaf.

I did not ask you to
grease the top step

of your library ladder so the
girl would slip and fall.

All done, sir.

You may now use your
telephone at your leisure.

Thank you.

Oh, Mr. Pound.

You've been so
very, um, helpful.

I have.

Yes, and it occurs to me with
such specialised knowledge,

you might know how to
identify a customer from

their telephone number alone.

As it so happens, I can do that.

Ah, wonderful.

Please, explain.

Just call them up
and ask their name.

Will there be
anything else, sir?

Apparently not.

See yourself out.

Some inconvenience, but think,
sir, you will be the first

to use a telephone like this.

Hello. Operator, could
you please connect

me to Belgravia 483?

I cannot believe I have
paid a company to treat

me with such incivility.

This decline in decorum will
be the end of common decency.

Oh, hello.

This is the Department
of Lost Property

at Paddington Station.

I was calling about that
three-volume novel what

you reported missing.

Mr. Holmes!

Oh, who have I called then?

No, the Dowager Duchess
of Lincolnshire.

Well, how about that?

Mr. Holmes!

Sir! You've just
complained about

the decline of common decency,
and here you are, lying

to a complete stranger.

It wasn't a lie.

It was a simple
misdirection.

A note.

It yielded the
information we seek.

A name attached to one
of the many telephones

used to call both Withersea and
the Chief Inspector's office.

Let's try again.

Uh, no.

Yes, operator, could you please,
uh, connect me to East 31?

Those of a delicate sensibility
might want to leave the room.

Oh, yes, yes.

Hello. Oh, am I
speaking to the

head of the household?

Well, you see, I did speak
to Sir Thomas last year

about cleaning his carpets
with my new patented...

Hello?

They're both called
the same stockbroker.

The game's afoot.

Justice is no game, Mr Holmes.

You've taken an invention
designed to more

closely connect the world and
you've abused its purpose

with more lies and deceit.

Criminals have already corrupted
your precious telephone.

With lives at stake,
I have little choice

but to follow their example.

Yes, hello, operator.

Could you please connect
me to Kensington 19?

Go and prepare yourself
for greater shocks.

There is worse to come.

Go on.

Dr. Kalia.

Wait, there's more.

If you did subscribe
to "Horse and Hound,"

we would have the strength
to have quite the

eclectic waiting room.

What? Oh.

Green and Crest Asylum for
the Criminally Insane.

Sorry, Doctor.

Well, perhaps for visitors.

Amelia, there you are.

I want to introduce--
Michael Wylie.

I've already had the pleasure.

Nice to see you
again, Miss Rojas.

I bet there's a story here.

Excuse me.

I want to go see if Eleanor
has her ostrich feathers yet.

I'm surprised you can get
away from your busy job

in exchange for
this weird dancing.

My employer is friends with
that witch, Lady Violet.

She offered two
shillings for young men

to dance with these,
these snobby girls,

along with a free
dinner, if we come for

the ball tomorrow.

I only accepted for a
chance of seeing you,

and then you left.

You upset with me?

Upset because Mr. Holmes
has lost his trust in me?

Upset because I've
lost a job that I love

in order to play nursery
maid to a boy crazy girl?

I only asked for what I
thought was a small favor

without considering
it could do you harm.

I offer my sincerest apologies.

Are you at least better
paid than when you were

with Mr. Holmes?

Not everybody chooses their
job based on their salary.

Besides, I work too
much to spend it.

Hello?

I said hello.

Oh, hello, Mom.

I represent the Fund for
Police Widows and Orphans,

and I was wondering
if you might offer--

Why, Sherlock
Holmes, you rascal.

I was about to hang up until
I realized it was you.

Oh, how annoying.

I was hoping my vocal disguise
would hold up long enough

to receive one of your
legendary reprimands.

I should tell you off, but
I'm more interested in why

you really called.

Well, to say how
wonderful it was to see

you in person last week.

Oh, how very kind.

Also, to ask if Miss Rojas
has been a suitable chaperone

to the ambassador's daughter.

I would hardly describe
the girl as sophisticated,

but she does take her
responsibilities seriously.

Would you care to see your
former maid in action?

I'm throwing an afternoon
ball for the daughter of the

Italian ambassador's debut.

I will send you an
invitation at once.

An afternoon ball?

Come, please.

Very well, I'll come.

Do you not find these
debutante balls to be a

series of pretentious bores?

How else to prepare young girls
to be the wives of aristocrats,

except by surrounding them
with pretentious bores?

Now, I must go.

I look forward to
seeing you, Sherlock.

4pm please, au revoir.

It might seem strange being
dressed up in broad daylight,

but it'll do you good to
be amongst the quality

for an afternoon, Mr. Holmes.

Dancing, music.

Yes, without stimulating
conversation perhaps,

because the afternoon
will be spent without it.

Mr. Halligan, I will want
you to drop me at the gate

come back one hour later
if you don't mind.

I don't believe it
would be proper for me

to mind, Mr. Holmes.

Ah, that will be Mr. Birtwistle.

Please show him up.

Good afternoon, Sherlock.

Ah, Bertie.

You seem a little overdressed
to receive my report.

Yes, yes.

Sadly, I have been asked
out for the afternoon.

Yes. Perhaps you have been up
to something of more interest.

Indeed I have.

First, there was a notice
for Lucia Rojas's murder,

though no official
investigation followed.

And the poor woman
did have a girl.

Farther unknown.

Possibly an Englishman.

I suppose since the girl
was born six months

after the Wild West show
completed its London run.

Six months?

Are you certain?

Quite certain.

I was able to determine the
date through an exchange

with no lesser personage
than Buffalo Bill himself,

though he did not refer to
the mother as Lucia Rojas,

but as-- - Yes.

Yes. Little
Dove.

It was her Wild West
show nom de guerre.

Excuse me.

Whether Amelia is, in fact,
Lucia Rojas's daughter,

I cannot say.

You must at least consider
her to be an imposter.

For a near penniless
girl, she did quite well

out of all these arrangements.

Nevertheless, I'm
grateful to you

for establishing as many of
these facts as possible.

Very grateful.

Oh, it's my pleasure.

And there was also a series
of telegrams sent overseas.

Yes.

Oh, yes.

There we go.

Thank you.

You learned anything else?

No, just that there
is some connection

between the theft of
the jewels and someone

of rank at Scotland Yard.

Well, I'm not surprised.

With 50,000 pounds
to distribute,

I mean, one could bribe
the entire police force,

couldn't one?

Yes. You're
holding out

on me, Sherlock.

I am.

No others might consider
you a pompous windbag.

I know you to be an extremely
serious would-be investigator.

Well, thank you.

I think.

Yes. Come along.

The jewels will only be found
by bringing down the criminal

syndicate that has stolen them.

So I say to you advisedly,
Bertie, watch your step,

dear fellow,

watch your step.

Oh my goodness, Amelia.

Isn't it beautiful?

It's like a fairy tale.

Only you, Miss Anderson,
not your servant.

She's not my servant.

She's the chaperone.

Foreign girl must stay
outdoors during the ball.

I'd like her to come
inside with me.

Miss Anderson.

No, I'd like her inside.

If you would be so kind,
Miss Anderson, please.

Please. But
I need her.

Just don't draw attention
to yourself, Clara.

It's just a party.

Just don't dance with
the same boy twice

or get pulled away
from the crowd.

Okay?

Okay.

Come inside.

It's fine.

There's a bench
over there.

Go. Go.

The daughter of the
American ambassador to

the court of St. James,
Miss Clara Anderson.

That's the least of it.

Wait until you hear what I
found out about Lady Violet.

She's deeply--
Deeply involved with

the Red Thread, yes.

I know.

No, it's much more than that.

Come.

Miss Anderson.

We meet again.

We do indeed.

Mr. Wylie, was it?

How kind of you to remember.

May I be allowed to write
my name on your dance card?

Of course.

But only one dance.

I've been ordered to mingle.

And you're certain
about the weaponry

in Lady Violet's parlor, the
same design as the knife left

behind in your mother's body?

As certain as you are that the
button found by Mr. Birtwistle

belongs to Dr. Watson.

We're closing in
on them, Amelia.

Perhaps separating
you from Clara

was more than just snobbery.

You always said they would
try to approach her again.

Clara is...

so impressionable.

Do I detect a growing fondness
for your young charge?

Now that I'm seeing how
she was brought up,

I know it's not Clara's
fault she is the way she is.

She was really kind
to me when we met.

Maybe I'm just jealous that she
still has a mother to talk to.

I'd give anything to
speak to mine again.

Even if it was
just for a minute.

Even if it was just to tell
her I'm doing what she wanted.

Anyway...

Amelia, I wanted to tell you
that if I seemed distant

when I sent you to the
ambassador's house, I am sorry.

Extremely sorry.

It's all right, Mr. Holmes.

I'm still getting to know you,
so I didn't take it personally.

Also, you told me someone needs
to keep watch over Clara,

and I can't now.

Your mind never strays far
from the case. Commendable.

You will save the subject
of Lady Violet for later.

Meanwhile, I will look after
the young lady in your absence.

These people don't spend time
talking to servants, Mr. Holmes.

And I'm sure someone's
watching us.

There's more I want to
tell you, but later.

Quite right.

It won't be long.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes of
Baker Street, London.

You arrived on time.

I had hoped to surprise you.

Well done.

Now, excuse me briefly.

I must check the ballroom
and chide my students

on their wretched dancing.

Chase me down later.

On that, you have my word.

I'm dying!

Help me!

Help! In the name
of God, someone!

Are you okay?

Shall we visit the ballroom
and take your first waltz?

Thank you, Mr. Wylie.

I will always remember you were
the first to ask me to dance,

but I'm afraid my principles
do not allow me to stay.

Miss Anderson, you cannot
be leaving so quickly.

Mr. Holmes, how lovely
it is to see you,

but I'm afraid I
must say farewell.

My chaperone was forced to
remain with the carriages,

and I cannot enjoy myself
inside while my friend is

outside in the cold.

Are you okay?

Oh, no!

What do you mean Amelia
was denied entry?

Unacceptable. Excuse
me, I just spoke to...

I just spoke to...

Wait.

I beg your pardon,
Miss Anderson.

Help!

Help me!

Help!

Help!
Hey!

Anyone, please!

Help!

Come on!