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Do you have dinner plans this week?

No, nothing as yet.

I was thinking...

there's a nice little bistro south of the river.

We could go there for dinner one night.

I'd like that.

We can discuss the Lewis case.

Or perhaps we could talk about it now.

Ah. That.

What does that mean?

I've given that investigation to Culpepper's.

What?

Why? - Eliza.

It doesn't matter.

I shouldn't have said anything.

It's your prerogative to...

hire whoever you wish.

Would you like me to explain?

No.

Yes.

I have to use other agencies as well as yours,

otherwise I will be accused of favoritism.

But it's not favoritism. It's pragmatism.

I would have solved that case in a heartbeat.

There's also the matter of...

Let's not discuss work in our personal time.

The matter of what?

Your expenses have been quite excessive

on the last few cases.

Well, they were big investigations.

I needed lots of resources.

I'm just reminding you that budgets are tighter than ever.

It's something to be aware of in the future.

Perhaps you're right.

We should not discuss work.

Let's talk of something else.

Ivy and Mr. Potts will be back soon.

Sneaking out the back door in the dead of night.

I feel 15 again.

Are you brooding?

- No. - Are you sure?

I'm perfectly fine.

See you tomorrow night?

You will.

Marvelous.

Marvelous.

Oh, the post is here. I'll get it!

Careful!

Oh.

Still nothing from Mr. Wormsley?

I would have thought he'd come to his senses by now

and apologized.

He's a stubborn man.

A bit like someone else I know.

Oh, he'll apologize soon enough.

Then I will be back at work before you can say

'cadaveric spasm.'

Uh, that's a post-mortem condition whereby...

Tell me later. I don't want to be late for work.

I'll detain you not a moment longer, my jewel.

Oh. I am sorry, Barnabus.

You know how I'd love to hear all about

your medical knowledge.

What do I always say?

That should I ever write my memoirs,

you would be the first to read them.

Exactly. Mwah.

Right. The drawing room won't spring clean itself.

There's nothing wrong with the drawing room.

I'll be the judge of that.

Come.

Sir, do you have a moment?

Only if you're quick.

I've been given rather irksome orders from the Superintendent.

Still, we live to serve and all that.

As I'm new here,

I just wanted to check something,

but it's a bit awkward, I don't really know how to put it.

Concisely. I have a train to catch.

Do you think it's alright for a copper to be

romantically involved with a lady he works with?

Why do you ask?

If you have something to say, Detective Willows, then say it.

I've been out for dinner with a lady from the clerical office.

Twice, actually.

Miss Isabel Summers. I'd like to take her out

a third time, but I wanted to check with you first.

I'm not her father, Detective Willows.

What you do in your free time

is your own business.

Thank you, Sir.

Right, I'm off to Hertfordshire,

where apparently the local police need my help.

According to our esteemed Superintendent, anyway.

We really must stop him reading the newspapers.

Newspapers, Sir?

Wonderful news, is it not?

It's a theft, Clarence.

My thoughts are with the victims.

Uh, uh, as are mine.

I've also had other thoughts about how

it could be monetized.

Trafalgar Spring is, as you know,

the most famous racehorse in the land,

but are you aware of the scandal involving his owners?

Enlighten me.

The horse's owners, Lord and Lady Roberts,

have recently been granted a divorce.

There were accusations of infidelity on both sides,

and things became increasingly bitter during the court case.

They fought over everything.

Property, money, heirlooms.

Didn't she insist on keeping her title?

Oh, you do read the gossip pages.

- Only the headlines. - Hmm.

Well, all the other matters were resolved,

but the sticking point was their prize-winning racehorse,

Trafalgar Spring.

Both sides wished to keep him.

Precisely, and Lady Roberts managed to prove

that she had bought him as a foal with her own money,

and the court found in favor.

The horse was being kept at Lord Roberts' stables,

so the judge ordered him to give the animal back

to his former wife.

But before he could do so...

Intriguing.

Intriguing, and potentially rewarding.

She's offered £100 for his safe return.

We must make an appointment with her immediately.

I've already done so.

She's an acquaintance of Mr. Nash

from his horse racing days.

We met her on several occasions.

Bravo, Clarence.

But we must proceed with caution.

Lady Roberts blames her husband for the horse's theft.

That man is as well-connected as they come.

I take it you know who his cousin is?

As I was telling the police commissioner,

I've been breeding horses for 30 years,

and Trafalgar Spring

is the cream of the crop.

He practically glides across the turf.

Have you seen him race?

I haven't, Sir, no.

Oh. What kind of policeman are you?

I thought you lot were always at the track.

You were telling me about the night of the theft.

Oh, he was locked up in his usual stall.

Chain and padlock.

There was a hell of a storm that night, and Evans,

my groundskeeper, didn't arrive until first light.

Which is when he found the chain was cut, the door was open,

and Trafalgar Spring was gone.

Of course I fired him on the spot.

No doubt in my mind that the man was in cahoots with her.

Her?

My former wife.

Clearly she paid him to take the horse,

and now she has it hidden somewhere, I'm sure.

I understood Lady Roberts was awarded the animal

as part of divorce settlement.

Why would she steal her own property?

I'm appealing against that decision,

and my lawyers have assured me

that I have every chance of winning. And she knows it.

No, she paid off my groundskeeper,

you can be sure.

Either with money or...

other favors.

I want the woman arrested.

The local police have already spoken to Lady Roberts

and taken statements from all your ground staff,

including Mr. Evans, your groundskeeper.

I'm only here to oversee things, not get directly involved.

I am cousin to Her Majesty the Queen.

And godfather to the Prime Minister's son.

Do I really have to explain to you

the ways in which I could make your life difficult?

Now do as you're told and find my bloody horse.

We appreciate you seeing us at such short notice,

Lady Roberts.

Nash and Sons.

That was who you say you worked for?

Yes, Mr. Patrick Nash.

You met him several times at the Grand National,

along with myself.

Mr. Nash was something of a rogue, as I recall.

Isn't he in prison now?

He's served his time and since been released.

Good news for his sons, I suppose.

Not that he has any.

Perhaps you could tell us a little more

about Trafalgar Spring.

I've followed his progress over the years, he's quite something.

Indeed, he is.

I bought him as a colt,

with money my father gave me

before I was married.

Trafalgar Spring far outshone

any of the horses being trained by my... former husband,

much to his annoyance.

He truly is a magnificent creature.

Yes, he won two classics in his first season, is that right?

The Derby and the St. Ledger?

What can you offer that Culpepper's, or Malone's,

or any of the other firms who have come calling cannot?

Well, um...

Lord Roberts is, to say the least,

a very influential man.

No doubt he'll use that influence against you.

As a woman, I know what... - I don't give a damn

about your struggles as a woman.

What can you offer that the others cannot?

Lady Roberts,

uh, your husband is appealing

against the terms of the divorce.

Should he succeed, he will reclaim everything

that you have been awarded.

Not just the horse,

but the houses and the money.

There are, however...

ways that one can hide one's assets,

which perhaps I could show you.

Patrick Nash was a crook.

But a wealthy one.

You find my horse.

And you... hide my money.

We look forward to working with you, Lady Roberts.

Your tea, Madam.

If I had wanted tea, I would have rung the bell!

Get out!

Find out everything you can about that divorce settlement.

It's your job to keep her happy.

Well, happy might be a bit of a stretch,

but I'll try my best.

I'll see if I can find out if anyone

had a grudge against either of them.

Miss Scarlet.

Inspector Blake.

I need to ask what you're doing here,

but I assume it's about a missing racehorse?

You wish to acquire Lady Roberts as a client?

You assume correctly,

and I can happily report that we were successful.

Beating wh... who was it, Clarence?

Malone's and Culpepper's to the contract.

Well, as I always say, they are no match for you.

I always find actions speak louder than words.

Good day, Inspector Blake.

Miss Scarlet.

Mr. Pettigrew.

Have you fallen out with the inspector?

Not at all.

You just seemed rather officious

and to the point.

Inspector Blake is a client of mine,

and that's how I am with clients.

No, you're not.

Well, I shall be from now on.

Barnabus?

Ha.

Ah! Good evening, my jewel.

Well, what do you think?

About what?

I've given the room a deep clean.

I'm sure you would agree it's transformed,

uh, uh, particularly with the chair

in a slightly different position.

You spent all day cleaning?

Well, I did drop by the post office

to see if there was a problem with the mail.

I thought that might be why I had not

received a letter from Mr. Wormsley.

And is there a problem?

There is not, no.

But no matter, I'm still to finish my to-do list.

Uh, next up, ah, item 37.

Rearrange Ivy's burgeoning recipe book.

My recipe book!?

There's no need to thank me, my jewel.

It'll be a pleasure to rearrange it

into strict alphabetical order.

Item number 37.

So...

have you finished your brooding?

Not quite.

That was our first argument.

It was hardly an argument. It was more of a discussion.

One that will be resolved...

when you say sorry.

I didn't realize an apology was needed.

Well, now you do.

Then...

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

I promised we wouldn't talk about work

during our personal time. However...

What are my theories on the missing racehorse?

If I were to suggest

that Lord Roberts faked the theft

in order to punish his former wife,

what would you say?

It's a possibility.

But I'm keeping an open mind.

Do you also think...

Is this us not talking about work?

I assume I can trust you not to go into my bag

and look through my case notes?

What a low opinion you have of me.

Hmm.

Inspector Blake.

Telegram.

Thank you.

I'm afraid our evening's going to be cut short.

Detective Willows has requested my assistance.

I'm gonna go next door and ask Mrs. Bambury to watch Sophia.

Well, I'd be happy to stay.

I may be some time.

Well, there's wine and...

it appears there's plenty to read.

Well, if you're sure.

Thank you.

I'll be back as soon as I can.

Hmm.

Hmm.

- Good evening, Sir. - Willows.

Sorry to disturb your evening,

but I received an urgent call

from Hertfordshire Constabulary.

Looks like carriage tracks, Sir.

They believe this may be connected to the missing horse.

The stable's only a mile or so away.

When was the body discovered?

Two hours ago, by a passerby.

The local police have identified him as Jack Lawson.

He was a horse trainer.

Who did he work for?

Lady Roberts.

Where is Papa?

Oh. Oh, he had to go out.

He asked me to look after you.

Can't you sleep?

How about I come and read to you for a bit?

Let's see what we've got.

Ah, yes. Through the Looking Glass.

Why don't we learn more about Alice's adventures?

Yes, please.

Good morning.

I apologize for not coming back sooner.

The crime scene was more challenging than usual.

Crime scene?

I can't go into details.

There is something of a conflict of interest.

Is this connected to the missing racehorse?

I'm not a mind reader, Alexander.

Is that a yes or a no?

What happened to our agreement not to discuss work

during our private time?

What, so you're not going to tell me?

You see, you are a mind reader.

More coffee?

The body was identified as Jack Lawson.

I understand he trained Trafalgar Spring.

He used to.

As soon as I filed for divorce,

my husband banned Lawson from the estate.

His body was found near the stables

where Trafalgar Spring taken,

with what appeared to be carriage tracks and hoof prints.

Do you think he was involved in the theft?

I have to consider all possibilities, Lady Roberts.

Do you have any idea of his recent movements?

I did hear...

it is just a rumor.

But I heard that my husband

had inquired about his services.

Clarence, I have some news.

There's been a significant development

on the hunt for Trafalgar Spring.

Excellent. What is it?

I'm not entirely sure.

You may have to give me a little more information than that.

Some sort of crime was committed last night.

What kind of crime?

I'm not entirely sure.

And where was this?

Well, I'm not entirely sure about that either.

Forgive me, but what does make you entirely sure

this is a significant development?

I have it on good authority that Inspector Blake

was called out to a crime scene last night,

and that crime scene is connected to our case.

But you don't know what happened or where it was.

Precisely.

Now, this is what we do know.

The horse was stolen from Lord Roberts' stables.

So, really, I should go there,

take a look around.

But I need to find a way to visit undetected.

How about you?

Anything of interest?

Well, I've been wading through

Lady Roberts' finances,

which are a muddle, to say the least.

Particularly the hiring and firing of domestic staff.

It seems that both she and Lord Roberts

have been shedding servants at a rate of knots

due to the scandal of the divorce.

Is Lord Roberts still hiring?

I believe so. Why?

Miss Reynolds?

Yes?

Miss Edith Berry has arrived.

Ah. Send her in.

And fetch the boys, please.

Miss Berry, pleasure to meet you.

I'm Miss Alice Reynolds, the housekeeper.

Please, take a seat.

Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.

Hm.

When I learned of the vacancy for a nanny,

my heart soared.

I was most keen to see you

before the position was filled.

Have you had much experience with children?

I've worked for three wonderful families.

- Oh. - I adore children.

Well, the previous nanny left rather abruptly.

The unpleasantness with Lord and Lady Roberts

hangs heavy over us all.

The Roberts have two sons, Sebastian and Lionel.

I have other matters to attend to,

but perhaps you would like spend some time with the boys?

See how you get on.

There's nothing I would enjoy more.

Hm. Ah, Sebastian. Lionel.

This is Miss Berry.

She will be looking after you this afternoon.

Best behavior, please.

Good afternoon, boys.

Now, I have two suggestions

as to how spend our time together.

Suggestion one,

a rigorous test of Latin and algebra.

Suggestion two, a game where I ask you questions,

and if you answer correctly, then I reward you with sweets.

Yes.

The game it is.

Excellent. Now, first question.

Who knows where the stables are?

Afternoon, Fred.

Barnabus, what are you doing here?

I come with the most wonderful news, my jewel.

Something remarkable has happened.

Mr. Wormsley's apologized and given you your job back.

Not as yet, no.

I'm referring to this. My memoirs.

Tales of a Mortuary Clerk

by Barnabus Potts.

Oh, it was slow going at first,

but as soon as the dam of creativity burst open, then...

then words just cascaded from my mind,

like, like water from a dam that, as I say, had burst open.

You've written your memoirs?

Yeah. Are you not always telling me

what fascinating tales I possess?

Mm-mm.

Well, now, I've put them on

the page for all to read.

Begun to anyway, uh, this is just the first chapter.

Spring, 1857.

I would, um, welcome any thoughts

or suggestions you may have.

A...a... and this is just one chapter?

Indeed. I've left no stone unturned

in my effort to delight the reader.

Every detail, no matter how small, is there on the page.

Although I must confess to a rather intense

bout of cramp in my forearm.

Well, we have to get you a typewriter to keep this up.

Well, I'll keep you not a moment longer.

We will talk again at home.

Oh, I, I won't be home till late.

I have to cover part of the night shift.

Ah. No matter.

I will keep myself busy

writing the next installment.

Autumn, 1857.

Miss Berry?

What on earth are you doing in here?

And where are the boys?

H...hiding. We're playing hide and seek.

Well, go and find them immediately.

They should never be left alone.

Ever.

I take it you're here about Lawson.

I heard his body was found last night.

How well did you know Mr. Lawson?

Hardly at all.

He worked for her. I had my own man.

Is it right that you banned Lawson from your stables

when the divorce proceedings began?

Didn't trust him.

And for the record,

I'm quite sure that he and my former wife

were more than just trainer and owner.

You're suggesting an affair?

There are so many rumors about her,

anything is possible.

I spoke to Lady Roberts, and she suggested

that you'd offered Lawson his job back.

And you believed her?

For God's sake, man,

are you a fool or just incompetent?

Look...

who knows what happened to Lawson.

But you can bet that she was involved somehow,

both in his death and the theft of my horse.

That woman has a corrupted soul.

And she will stop at nothing to...

What the devil?

Give me... give me back my...

Stop this at once!

Who the hell are you?

My name's Miss Berry, uh...

Inspector Blake.

You know this woman?

W...I can explain.

What will Lord Roberts do next?

He will complain that I haven't arrested you.

He will complain that I haven't arrested his wife.

He will complain that I haven't found the horse.

In summary, he will complain a great deal,

and make my life incredibly difficult.

Rather as you do.

I know we agreed not to discuss work,

but if we had, situations like this afternoon

might have been avoided.

Firstly, do not blame me for what happened.

Secondly, do not ask me to share confidential information

when your client is a suspect in the case.

Is there a thirdly?

Possibly.

I'm still thinking.

I have a proposal.

I will consider terminating my contract with Lady Roberts

if you tell me everything you know about the case.

But I reserve the right

to make that decision once I've heard your conclusions.

How does that sound? - Unacceptable.

Alexander, I appreciate this is difficult.

And if I was in your position, I would keep my cards

close to my chest too.

Not that I'll ever be in your position, since I'm a woman.

Thirdly, do not try and extract information out of me

using guilt.

I resent that suggestion.

It's not a suggestion, it's an accusation.

Just so you know... this goes both ways.

Perhaps I have information that will be interesting to you.

You don't.

Blake!

Superintendent. Yes, Sir.

All you are saying are words that make no sense.

You are not explaining it clearly.

Stop waffling, man. Be concise.

Yes, well, I'm doing my best, but as I have said,

your financial affairs are quite challenging.

Can you protect my money or not?

Yes, I can. I can. But, um, I just need a little more time

to fully understand your finances.

Well, what is there to understand?

I thought you were an accountant.

Lady Roberts, you have numerous bank accounts,

and a bewildering array of investments,

none of which are providing any kind of return, by the way.

There are also many payments, um, with no detailed reference.

For instance...

£50 to a Mr. M. Butterworth.

He's my upholsterer.

I have had to set up an entirely new household.

Would you have me go to the workhouse?

Upholsterer.

Oh, Lady Roberts.

No, don't mind me.

Um, a...a... £120 to a... a Mrs. Ruddy.

She runs a spa in Bath.

I was stricken with melancholy after divorce.

I needed to take the waters.

Ah yes, of course. Um, uh, bu... bu... but a whopping

£250 to a Mr. Daniel O'Dwyer?

He is an old acquaintance

who runs a charity for retired racehorses.

I will not apologize for having a kind heart,

and I do not appreciate being questioned in this way.

Oh, it's, it's just that if I am going to help,

I do need to go through every detail of your finances.

And you. What have you found out about my missing horse?

What on earth is that?

Lady Roberts.

"If you want your horse back,

pay £300 into locker 332 at Kings Cross Station

at 8 o'clock tomorrow night.

Tell the police and the animal dies."

Oh!

It was addressed to you, Lady Roberts.

Who else knew that you were here?

I told no one.

My driver dropped me two streets away.

I don't want anyone knowing my business.

Pay them.

I will give you the money.

Yes, but we must let the police know.

No! I don't want anything more to do

with this whole damn business.

Do as they say.

Pay them the ransom.

And when my horse is returned,

you will receive £100.

Well, that's that, then.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Extortion with the threat of violence is a serious crime,

and Inspector Blake is under pressure

to capture those responsible.

If we say nothing, they'll get away.

Well, that is his problem, not ours.

We have a business to run.

There are good reasons

to involve him.

There are many reasons not to.

£100 worth, to be precise.

Unless I am missing something.

You're acting in the most peculiar manner.

Something is amiss.

I cannot cross Inspector Blake,

and that's final. - But why?

- Because I can't. - Eliza, what has changed?

Everything!

You've not fallen out with Inspector Blake.

You've fallen in with him.

It all makes sense now.

Have you lost your mind?

Think of the damage to your reputation.

Not to mention the conflict of interest with Scotland Yard.

And what about clients?

They will question where your loyalties lie.

And what if things do not end well between the two of you?

We've lost our main source of revenue.

I am aware of all that.

And yet still you have done it.

If our business fails... Eliza!

I have nothing.

Things were finally smooth sailing,

but you are just like Mr. Nash,

intent on always rocking the damn boat!

Barnabus?

I'm home.

Barnabus?

Oh!

Oh, you gave me a fright.

Sorry. I was miles away.

Everything alright?

Yes.

No.

I've never seen Clarence so upset.

Clarence is just doing his job. I understand his concerns.

But this relationship with Inspector Blake

is a long time coming.

I've never known you so happy.

I am happy.

I just don't want everything I've worked for

to be for nothing.

Do you want my advice?

Does it start with, when you were a little girl?

If you had a case that, in solving,

would mean harm to me and reputation,

what would you do?

Well, if there's no dilemma, you would come first.

Because you care about me?

Of course.

And there's your answer.

I'll take the blackmail letter to Inspector Blake

in the morning.

You're always right.

Could you please tell my husband that?

Inspector Blake?

Good morning, Miss Scarlet.

Detective Willows.

I'm waiting on Inspector Blake.

Any idea where he is?

He was in with the superintendent first thing.

The meeting must have run over.

Well, that never bodes well.

Mm.

Would you like me to pass on a message?

The autopsy report he requested finally came through.

I'll leave it on his desk.

I'll let him know.

Good day, Miss Scarlet.

Daniel O'Dwyer.

Good morning, Sir.

It's far from good.

I've just been in with the Super.

More complaints from Lord Roberts?

Well, he's consistent. I'll give him that.

Well, it's still early, so let's be optimistic

and hope for a better day ahead.

Well, I might be able to help you with that, Sir.

The coroner's report for Jack Lawson came through.

I've put it on your desk.

Cause of death?

Internal bleeding

caused by a ruptured liver.

There was also severe bruising on the abdomen,

on which the coroner had a theory.

He said that he's seen that before

amongst stable hands and jockeys.

A kick from a horse?

Exactly, Sir.

Well, it was late at night on a dark forest lane.

It could have been an accident transferring the animal

from one horsebox to another.

I've looked into this Jack Lawson.

Couldn't find anything on him in Hertfordshire, where he lived,

but I did find an old arrest sheet here in the records room.

Lawson was Irish.

Came to London 10 years ago,

but he had a different name then.

Daniel O'Dwyer.

He left Ireland with a mountain of unpaid debts

and a reputation for race-fixing.

So, when he arrived in London, he...

called himself Jack Lawson as a fresh start.

Good work. Well done.

You say you left the files on my desk?

I left it right there with Miss Scarlet.

Miss Scarlet was here?

Ah! There you are.

I've been looking everywhere for you.

Ah, uh, I...there's something I wanted to say,

and I needed time to think.

There's no time for thinking, Clarence.

I have news on the case.

No, no, please let me finish.

Very well.

I'm sorry for what I said last night.

I was just frustrated.

Our business means an awful lot to me.

Apart from mother, that's all I have, uh,

and you mean an awful lot to me, too.

You are a, a good friend, Eliza.

It's surprising how few friends I was left with

once I had a criminal record.

Thank you.

But speaking of criminal records...

But my first thought

should have been your happiness.

You, of all people, deserve to be happy.

And if Inspector Blake makes you happy,

then that is what is most important.

That means a great deal. Thank you.

Now, have you finished?

I have.

What did you want to tell me?

So, this Daniel O'Dwyer that Lady Roberts

made payments to was an ex-convict.

Contrary to what she told us, he didn't run a charity

for retired racehorses.

He was wanted in Ireland for unpaid debts.

Changed his name to Jack Lawson to escape arrest.

And wound up dead.

That was the crime scene

that Inspector Blake attended

the other night.

Well, no wonder she didn't want the police involved

in the kidnapping. She's in this up to her neck.

But how do you know all this?

You stole a file from Inspector Blake's office?

I temporarily borrowed it.

My intention was to tell Inspector Blake

about the ransom note, but circumstances changed,

which they are wont to do.

As long as the horse is found

and the thieves brought to justice,

that's all I care about.

That and the confidential file you stole from his desk.

I'll worry about that later.

We have a horse to find first.

Now, we may not receive the fee from Lady Roberts,

but the publicity will be invaluable.

Now, the ransom note says that the bag drop

will be at 8 o'clock tonight,

which gives us seven hours until then.

But how do we find the horse?

I've been studying the ransom note,

removing the letters and rearranging them,

and it turns out that the words were

cut from the same newspaper.

Kingsbury Herald.

Yes, it's a local newspaper sold in only two postal districts

in north-west London.

I'd bet money that the horse

is being kept in that area.

Hmm.

We need a map.

One that shows buildings on it.

Buildings big enough to hide a horse.

We'll make a detective of you yet, Clarence.

Good afternoon, my jewel.

You really should have woken me this morning.

Well, I didn't want to disturb you.

You looked so worn out.

I cannot dispute the fact that all this writing

has left me feeling somewhat fatigued,

not to mention played havoc with my lexal digitorum profundus.

Oh, never mind my ailments.

What did you think of my first chapter?

I very much enjoyed it.

But perhaps it might benefit

from a little trim here and there.

Trim?

It... it is rather long.

There's a lot of detail about the management

of the mortuary budget.

Oh. Oh, perhaps I could be a bit more economical.

Might go some way to ease my current malady, too.

Perhaps a little rest from the writing

might be the best thing.

In the meantime, you could

get your old job back

by apologizing to Mr. Wormsley.

rather than waiting on him.

You want me to give up the writing?

I know the idea of apologizing

goes against your principles, but...

You want me to give up the writing.

Barnabus, you're a wonderful writer.

Hm.

But these twinges can start small,

and before you know it,

you have an acute condition.

Look at my mother's gout.

Hm.

Perhaps you are right, my jewel.

I know just what to do.

Ah.

Mrs. Potts, have you seen Miss Scarlet?

Uh, not today, no.

Well, I need to speak to her. I've been to, uh, the office,

the house. She's not there.

What has that girl gone and done now?

If you see her, would you be kind enough

to direct her to my office? Immediately?

Yes, Inspector, of course.

- Sir? - Yes?

It's Miss Scarlet.

Where is she?

Gentlemen of the press,

thank you for coming so expeditiously.

I am Eliza Scarlet, private investigator.

As you can see, I have found Trafalgar Spring,

the award-winning racehorse that all London

has been searching for.

Miss Scarlet, could you confirm

when and where the horse was located?

I did not do this alone, however,

but alongside the dedicated

Inspector Alexander Blake of Scotland Yard.

Inspector Blake, how long have you and Miss Scarlet

been working together? -Inspector Blake!

Never was there a more diligent, talented officer.

Inspector Blake, do you have any suspects

in custody at this time?

Inspector Blake, where did you find the horse?

Miss Scarlet? Miss Scarlet.

Is this disappearance financially motivated?

Inspector Blake, can you give us

any more information about the thief?

Neither Miss Scarlet or myself

will be giving any further comment

at this time,

as the investigation is still ongoing.

Thank you.

Thank you, gents. That's enough for today.

Thank you. On your way.

Name and address of the thief.

Some driver Jack Lawson paid

to transport the horse. But it wasn't just Lawson.

He had help.

Inside help.

If anyone stole that horse, it was her.

The man is a liar.

He would kill his own mother

if it meant getting his hands on my horse.

How dare you speak of my mother,

who, by the way, never liked you.

We are not suggesting that you yourselves stole the horse.

We know it was Jack Lawson.

Real name, Daniel O'Dwyer.

A horse trainer with a criminal past.

Contrary to what you told me, you didn't donate money

to O'Dwyer's racehorse charity.

But rather you paid him to steal Trafalgar Spring.

Ha!

No court in the land will let you have the horse now.

And on further delving into O'Dwyer's accounts,

we found that you, Lord Roberts,

had sold him a property in London

for a ridiculously low price just last month.

Despite saying you've had no dealings with him.

I told you so.

Lies trip off his tongue like the serpent he is.

I would wager that you both had some arrangement

with Daniel O'Dwyer.

But he betrayed both of you,

and intended on selling to a breeder

who would put the horse out to stud

on the black market.

And what of the man who held my horse to ransom?

It is he who should be in custody, not I.

The man in question has been arrested.

He was hired by O'Dwyer to transport the horse

to a breeder.

When the horse kicked out at O'Dwyer, he panicked,

left O'Dwyer fatally injured

and drove off with Trafalgar Spring.

Luckily for us,

he got greedy and decided to keep the horse for himself

and ransom it.

Extortion and fraud are extremely serious offenses.

However, I'm inclined to be generous.

To press no charges, speak no more about it.

But I cannot speak for my colleague here,

who is very well connected with the press.

I am indeed, Inspector Blake.

And what a story it would make.

However, I'm sure Miss Scarlet can be persuaded

to keep this whole debacle quiet.

I believe that she, like me,

has had enough of the pair of you.

What do you suggest?

Drop the appeal case.

And allow Lady Roberts to keep her horse.

And you will pay Miss Scarlet her fee.

Her full fee.

With a bonus for her continued silence.

I trust this is an end to the matter?

Barnabus!

I'm home!

Barnabus?

One fluid ounce of...

What on earth are you doing?

Writing, my jewel.

When I left you earlier,

I went straight to the stationers

on Copthorne Lane, Quill and Quandary.

They had a typewriter there on sale,

for half the usual price.

Oh! As you said,

so much easier than writing by hand.

But I thought you were going to get

your old job back at the mortuary.

Why would I do that when you yourself said

I was a wonderful writer?

Oh! Ah!

Ah. One fluid ounce of iodine.

You know, you could have told me about the ransom.

What? And have you take away my moment in the sun?

I've already had three offers of work from that publicity.

Besides, I was keeping to your rule of not discussing work.

I believe it was our rule.

And one we should stick to.

Agreed.

It's nice going out together.

I don't know this area very well.

It's far enough out of the way to enjoy some privacy.

And if anyone should recognize us,

the tables are almost big enough to hide under.

Clarence knows about us.

He guessed.

Well, it's only a matter of time before everyone finds out.

So, let's enjoy the quiet before the storm.

- May I? - Thank you.

Did you hear about that robbery that went wrong in Blackfriars?

No.

Does that breach our rule?

Oh, it does a little, yes.

What if we amend the rule?

We're allowed to discuss work

that doesn't directly concern us?

I'm about to take over the case.

Oh.

Oh, to hell with it.

When I say the burglary went wrong,

I mean it went spectacularly wrong.

Do tell.

So, it all started

in a most bizarre way.