All language subtitles for Miss Scarlet and The Duke - 02x05 - Quarter to Midnight.NOGRP.English.orig.Addic7ed.com

Hello Inspector.

Morning Duke.

Morning George.

Morning Inspector.

There you go.

Lovely.

Oh.

Anything I need to know?

No, not today Duke.

Well, keep your eyes peeled.

Busy night, Violet?

Morning Sir.

Do we have a meeting?

Sit down.

Is there a problem sir?

Take a seat eh.

Now

I know we've not always seen eye to eye,

but I try not to let personal feelings

get in the way of professional decisions.

Which is why I'm
recommending you for a promotion.

Sir?

A vacancy for Chief Inspector has
come up. Put a good word in for you.

The job is yours.

Well, thank you very much, sir.

Well, it's about time you received
the recognition you deserve.

Well done, laddy.

Thank you. Thank you, sir.

Maybe a few more pennies in the bank too.

You need to talk that through
with Superintendent McNeill, but

Superintendent McNeill?

Promotion's in the Glasgow Force.
You'll be leaving end of the month.

The Glasgow Force.

Nice to get back to the old one town eh?.

Well, then again, laddy.

Sir, I would like some
time to think about it.

Well, I'm off to Manchester
for a couple of days.

Give me an answer when I get back.

Mr. Victor Latchman.

Nothing

Lord Alexander Lipton.

Nothing

Sir Thomas Pembroke, Marquess of Bath.

Not a thing.

Not a single piece of scandal
on any of them.

Well, the uncle of the Lipton man has
been throwing his money around town.

On what?

Two hospitals.

And a factory making clothes for the poor.

We've been doing this for weeks now.

Why do you care what they've been up to.

Mrs. Parker pays me to do background
checks on potential husbands for her niece.

She wants to know if they're suitable.

And I promised Hattie to find
reasons why they're unsuitable.

She wishes to marry someone of
her own choosing, not her aunt's.

Well, you need to find someone
else to do your digging.

I'm done.

I know it's unethical, but Hattie's
led such a sheltered life.

I don't care about the ethics.

It's boring.

Boring?

They're all the same men with the
same families and the same lives.

There are better uses of my time.

I have a reputation to protect.

I see you asking for more money.

No. It'd be about professional pride. Why?

How much are you offering?

You're right.

There are much better uses of our time.

I'm seeing Hattie presently.

I tell her to speak to her aunt.

I'm happy to have a word with Mrs.
Parker myself. If the money is right.

Now, that is something
I would love to see.

Inspector.

Moses.

What does he want?

We're working on a case together.

What kind of case?

Is that a new waistcoat?

Very smart.

No. Are you aware how
often you change the subject

when you don't wish to
talk about something?

I'm glad you had a favor to ask.

Well proved on.

Do you have any plans on Thursday evening?

Ivy's insisting Mr. Potts,
her Barnabas comes to dinner.

There's no way I can
settle that alone.

Eliza...

Please, please, don't make me beg.

Never mind that, I am...

I need to speak to you about something.

Do you mind if I hail a cab while we talk?

Hattie Parker's calling
around and I'm running late.

Yes, fine.

So, um.

So I was at work this morning.

This isn't going to be about Moses, is it?

No, it's not about Moses.

If you insist on associating
with known criminals...

This is about Moses.

I didn't come here to
speak to you about Moses

or Barnabas bloody Potts.

I've um...

I've been offered a promotion.

Chief Inspector.

William!

That's wonderful news. Congratulations.

The er... the job's in Glasgow.

Oh, I see.

That's a shame.

Never mind.

Is that that all you're going to say?

What else is there to say?

Well it's in Glasgow.

Eliza, Scotland.

I'm well aware where Glasgow is.

You're clearly not going to take it. So.

How do you know.

William, I say this is a friend.

Since I've known you,

you've been offered many different jobs.

And any that are outside of London,

You've always turned down.

Yes, and this is a promotion
to Chief Inspector.

As was the job in Nottingham,
I seem to remember.

We've had this conversation
on at least three occasions.

And each time you
agonize over the decision

and in the end decide to stay.

Why not, you're comfortable here.

Comfortable?

It was a poor choice of words.

For your information, I'm seriously
thinking about taking this job.

And yes, I'm well aware
that I've said that before.

William!

Your aunt has given me yet
another list of potential husbands.

I'm running out of reasons
why they're unsuitable.

You must speak to her Hattie. Tell
her you don't wish to marry yet.

It is not that I do not wish to marry,

It's just I do not wish to marry
someone who does not wish to marry me.

You want to marry for love.

Yes.

But my aunt thinks I'm fanciful.

Harriet, she says you do
not have the luxury of time.

or looks to wait for love.

How could she possibly understand?

Everyone is in love with her.

You're a grown woman.
You must stand up for yourself.

I do try but

You'd be surprised how
determined she can be.

Hattie,

you're a lovely young woman.

Any man would be lucky
to have you as their wife.

Do you think so?

Absolutely.

I will tell my aunt I do not wish to wed.

And that is that.

Papa left me some money.

Perhaps I could set up my own house.

There may be financial implications,
but as you say, Eliza,

I'm a grown woman and
I will find a way. Won't I.

You will.

I will go and see Mr. Norris,
our family accountant.

He will tell me which purse
strings my aunt controls.

So that is a plan.

Is it?

It is.

Will you come with me?

I have every faith that
you can do this on your own.

So that is a definite no?

Yes.

And you will not change your mind?

No.

Thank you for changing your mind.

Must be careful what I say to Mr. Norris.

He's rather enamored with my aunt.

Really?

Oh, yes. She has many admirers.

After all, she's a very handsome woman.

It's a mystery how she remains alone.

Mr. Norris.

I'll wait here.

Are you sure you don't want to come in?

Mr. Norris.

Mr. Norris, it's Miss Parker.

Mr. Norris, Mr. Norris

Arrgh!

Fetch the police.

Now Hattie!

Rigor mortis begins to set
about 2 hours after death.

First to the muscles
around the face and jaw

and then it progresses
outwards to the rest of the body.

Still feels very familiar.

Miss Scarlet, I seem to
remember asking you to accompany

Miss Parker back to Scotland
Yard to give a statement.

Not just familiar but staged.

Why go to all that effort?

Try moving his wrists.

Completely rigid.

Full rigor mortis takes 14 to 18 hours

to develop, which puts the time of death...

some point last night.

It's only a rough guide of course

we can't have an exact time.

Quarter to midnight.

I stand corrected.

Miss Scarlet's clearly developed a new
technique unknown to medical science.

It's called using your eyes.

The clock has been stopped.

No, it has stopped.

You do not know its been stopped.

William

Inspector Wellington.

This entire scene is exactly
as it was in the novel.

What novel?

Quarter to Midnight by Samuel Bedborough.

You haven't read it?

No.

Enlighten me.

A few years since I read it,

I would swear everything in this room
is precisely as it was in the book.

The bloodstained lily.

The knife in the neck.

The arrangement of his hand on the chest.

And the clock stopped
at a quarter to midnight.

You really should read more.

I read plenty just not
that particular book.

I've not read it either.

Thank you, Detective Fitzroy.

Although I do read
at least one book a week.

At the moment I'm working through
the Russian study with Goncharov.

Make yourself useful.

See if there's a visitor's book
or a list of his appointments.

Find out who was last in here.

Miss Scarlet, a word.

Go back to Scotland Yard.

Make a statement.

But I can be much more use here.

Will you just do what I ask.

This is about your offer job, isn't it?

You're annoyed with what I said.

Eliza, I am so often annoyed
with what you've said.

It's hard to keep track.

When I said you were comfortable.

You meant I lacked ambition.

No, of course not.

Only that, your life is
arranged as you like it.

You're settled.

That sounds even more
insulting than comfortable.

I think it's best
if we cease to discuss this.

I will let you know my decision
when I have come to it.

All right. Can I just say...

No. Now go back to Scotland Yard

and ask for Phelps.

That book.

The one you think the murderer imitated.

You said it was from by Samuel Bedborough.

That's right. Why?

The victim was his accountant.

I do not see what the problem is.

I'm not hiring you. Just hear me out.

Firstly, I've read every Samuel Bedborough
novel. I'm a huge fan of his work.

Secondly,

if you don't hire me,
Hattie Parker certainly will.

Mr. Norris was a friend of her aunts.

Surely it's better to share
information and resources.

If not for me, the taxpayers of London.

Oh, you're so selfless, Eliza.

It's a price I must bear.

So, is that a yes?

How much is your fee?

On second thoughts, let's
forgo the haggling and think of

the first amount you were going to say.

That seems fair.

Good. Now half it.

He could not be distracted

once his mind was focused on a task.

There was nothing that could break

his chain of thought,
not the shattering of the window

downstairs,
not the footsteps in the hallway.

When at last he looked up,

he saw a blade glistening in the moonlight

and felt the cold steel pierce

his heart.

Thus concludes

Chapter three.

Thank you,

Mr. Bedford, for once again
gracing our humble

shop with such a wonderful reading.

Now, if you would like to
form an orderly queue,

Mr. Bedford will gladly
sign copies of his book

as long as they have been purchased here.

Of course.

No, no, no.

Outside, please.

I need to speak to Mr. Bedborough.

This event is for ticket holders only.

I'm Inspector Wellington of Scotland Yard.

I'm here on police business.

And yet you brought your wife.

She's not my wife.

I'm a private detective

assisting Scotland Yard
with their inquiries.

I've heard many excuses
in my time, but that.

Oh, for God's sake, I haven't
even read any of his damn books.

I have.

I am Miss Bedborough, Samuel's sister.

Is something wrong?

We need to speak to
your brother right away.

When did this happen?

We believe Mr. Norris
was killed last night.

Can you think of anyone
who might wish to do harm?

He always seem to be
a perfectly decent man.

In truth, I didn't know him well.

He was a business acquaintance.

We only met a few times a year.

When was the last time?

A few weeks ago I think.

I couldn't say for sure.

As we mentioned, we believe
the crime scene was arranged

to resemble the murders
in Quarter to Midnight.

How extraordinary.

You understand that I have to ask you
about your own movements last night, sir.

Why?

It's a standard question, Samuel.

They ask it of everyone.

I have a suite at the Brabham hotel.

I'm staying there whilst
I finish my latest novel.

And were you alone?

You mean apart from the
50 staff and 300 guests.

Samuel.

My sister and I had dinner
and then I wrote all night.

I'm rather late delivering
my latest novel.

Is it true you once finished
a manuscript in the carriage

on the way to the publishers?

I'm woeful about deadlines,
but I have no need for muse or mood.

I can write any time or any
place. You enjoy my novels?

Very much so, yes.

In fact, Quarter to Midnight
is my favorite.

Ah.

I haven't read that particular one, but

I did enjoy Curse of the Crimson Shadow.

That was not me.

Quarter to Midnight

It's based on Bedborough's own life.

He spent years as an unpublished writer
before finally enjoying success.

Writer in the novel is

under pressure to deliver his latest book
and slowly starts going insane.

Believes his two best friends
want to put him in an asylum

so he kills them both.

But like Macbeth,
he is unable to live with the guilt.

You do know the story of.

Yes, Eliza, I know the story of Macbeth.

My apologies.

Anyway,

when the author in the novel was a child,
his parents died of scarlet fever.

As a boy, he witnessed them
laid out in their coffins at home,

each holding a lily.

The clock in his office
about a quarter to midnight,

which is the exact time of two murders
in the book take place,

but on separate nights.

So if someone is that keen to replicate the

book then it's possible,
they could kill again.

It's possible. Yes.

Do we know any more about our victim?

Edward Norris, 52 years old.

Unmarried, a respectable accountant
with hundred or so clients

that we're busy tracking down.

I'm going to read the book again.

See if there's anything we've missed.

May I suggest you do the same?

Fitzroy?

Give me everything you have so
far on Norris and his associates.

Right away, sir.

Oh, and give me a brief synopsis
on the story of Macbeth.

A couple of pages should do it.

You will have it, sir.

When the hurly burly is done,
when the battle's lost and won.

Make that one page.

Yes, sir.

This is Mr. Bedborough's most famous work.

But have you considered
beginning with Alone in Greenwich,

Should be here somewhere? Ah yes.

I'll read that straight after this.

Miss Willoughby.

Might I recommend that you read it first?

They do make a wonderful pair.

Such vivid prose.

I could recite every line.

I think I'll just start
with this one for now.

You know, what am I saying?

I would also recommend The Jagged Tear

In effect.

But perhaps I should just
get you his complete works.

How does that sound?

Expensive.

May I ask why you wanted
to speak to Mr. Bedborough?

Can't discuss that I'm afraid.

I knew there was something
wrong as soon as he came in.

He usually turns up to readings
in a wonderful mood.

But today he was

rather withdrawn and upset.

And this was before I spoke to him.

Yes

I've never seen him like that before.

I do hope everything is all right.

Would you like them wrapped.

One of us, skipper.

No, trying to concentrate.

Got you one anyway.

Not like you.

It's for the Norris case.

Didn't have you down as much of a reader,

apart from the Sporting Post.

You want something, Charlie?

No. Just seeing how you are.

If there's any news.

In the ten years we've worked together,

I don't think you've
ever bought me a drink.

People change.

People do.

You don't.

What do you want?

I heard the Super talking to
you about the promotion.

I was just passing.

Passing.

And I was thinking, if you did take it,
you might put in a word for me

to take over from you.

Not such of a sinner was
your strong point was it?

I've got a wife and four kids.

Five kids?

I can't afford to be subtle.

I know you've had offers in
the past and turned them down.

But you're not getting any
younger, neither of us are.

At some point the offers will stop
coming and that will be your lot.

If you're happy with how things
are, fine, but if you're not

Yes. Thank you, Detective.

That any good?

Terrible.

Good morning.

Morning.

Did you submit?

Made some progress with the Norris
case, I need to see the evidence?

How did you find me?

I don't know.

Lucky guess.

You do have something of a set routine.

Beard trim on a Monday.

Dog track on Tuesday.

Shoe shine on Wednesday.

Thursday.

Alright, alright, you've made your point.

What progress have you made?

I need to see the murder weapon.

I read that Quarter to Midnight

So did I, along with
some of his other work.

You sure Bedborough's
raised in the workhouse.

Indeed yes. Themes of rags to riches
are very common with his characters.

Like the lawyer in Alone in Greenwich.

William. I'm both surprised and impressed.

Compliment and an insult in one

that's quite something even for you Eliza.

Have you made your
decision yet about the job.

As I said, I'll let you know when I have.

Well, please feel free
to discuss it with me.

And let you insult me again.

No thank you.

My intention was not to insult.

Can be rather sensitive sometimes.

Sensitive and subtle,
this gets better and better.

William.

The case, Eliza. You want
to see the murder weapon.

The killer in Quarter to Midnight
used the same weapon for each murder.

A knife. Yes.

First victim was stabbed in
the neck with his own knife.

The second had the same
knife embedded in his neck.

Just how we found Norris.

Which means

He may not be the first victim.

Exactly.

Here it is.

When I closed the book last night,
I noticed something on the spine.

Publishers. Bellamy and Son there.

Crest. It's a galloping horse.

So if the killer is following
the plot of the book,

then the knife belongs
to the first victim.

It's locked.

Mr. Bellamy.

Is there a side entrance?

There's no time for that.

Kick it down

Look upstairs.

Touch nothing.

Inspector Wellington.

In here.

Just like the novel.

Right down to the time.

James was a good man.

He'd been my publisher for years.

When did you last see him?

At dinner on Thursday night.

How did he seem?

In good spirits.

And you can think of no one
that may wish to do him harm.

I don't know.

My mind is a little foggy.

My brother has been up all night writing.

I tell him to go to bed,
but he never listens.

And that's where you were last night?

In this room, writing?

Yes, all night.

May I ask what happened to your hand?

God sake!

Must you keep asking
these irrelevant questions?

Samuel.

I slipped in the bathroom.

Could we finish this later?

I must go and visit James's son.

We prefer you stay here, sir.

Both murders were exactly
as in your novel.

And as you know, there is a third death.

Author in my novel takes his own life.

I can assure you I'm not
planning on doing that.

Even so, if someone is
determined to replicate the book,

they may wish to do you harm.

Your sister's right, Mr. Bedborough.

I'll arrange police protection for you
in the meantime, if you'd like to go home.

Our homes are being decorated.

I'll stay here.

As you wish. I'll wait here until
an officer arrives. Miss Scarlet.

If you could take this message back
to Scotland Yard for me.

I tracked down the night porter.

Samuel Bedborough left the
hotel last night around 9 o'clock

and didn't return again
until gone midnight.

A killer who replicates
the plot of his own book.

Isn't it more likely someone's
trying to damage his reputation?

Possibly.

There's no better cover than a
murderer who hides in plain sight.

Looks like he was arrested
three months ago.

What for?

Public disorder.

He was arguing with a woman
in the street, and apparently

they threatened to kill each other.

They were arrested for breach
of the peace, but no charges were brought.

So they were cautioned and released.

Jessica Bellesini.

She's an actress.

Go and speak to her while I
assess the bodies in the mortuary.

Miss Scarlet.

Excuse me, sir. Your carriage is ready.

Thank you, Fitzroy.

On the way back from the mortuary,
I wonder if we may go via Covent Garden.

I very much like to secure tickets
for the premiere of Offenbach's

The Tales of Hoffmann.

Perhaps I would do that my own time.

Perhaps you will.

Goodness knows what'll
happen to him if I leave?

Well, it's a good job that
you're not going to take the job.

How many times?

I haven't made my decision yet.

Unlike you, I give consideration
to the life that I've built here.

What do you mean unlike me?

Well, if you were offered the
job, you'd take it in a heartbeat.

Well, on the day that
women are allowed to be

Chief Inspectors, we should
have that conversation.

You know what I mean.

If you were offered more money
and higher profile cases,

you would jump at the chance.

No matter where the location.

We're very different people, William.

Oh, meaning that you
have a singular ambition.

And I am a dull and predictable.

Beard trim on Monday,
shoeshine in a Wednesday.

You're twisting my words.

Am I?

You do not have to
justify your life to me.

I do when you constantly tease me about it.

Then I apologize.

Clearly, hit a nerve.

From where I have come from.

I have done damn well to get this far.

We don't all have the luxury
of inheriting a father's business.

I'm going to speak to Miss Bellesini
and I'll have her report in the morning.

Eliza.

Eliza, I apologize that um...

that came out harsher than I expected.

Don't let me keep you William.

It's almost time for
your 3 o'clock whiskey.

Excuse me, I'm looking for Miss Bellesini.

What was the nature of your
relationship with Mr. Bedborough?

The nature of our relationship?

Yes. Physical.

And um, and where did you meet him?

Some party cannot remember whose.

But we do not see each other anymore.

I have a new lover.

Younger, much more willing to please.

You know.

What happened the night you were arrested?

I had little too much to drink
and went to see him.

And one thing led to another.

You know how these things go.

The police were understanding.

I told them it was Italian passion,
not that I'm from Italy.

Nobody has heard about my country. So.

Italy plays much better.

So you argued because he
finished your relationship.

He sends his little friend
with a diamond necklace.

A parting gift to make me go quietly.

Who is this friend?

Norris. His accountant, I think.

I call him the Grim Reaper.

When you see him, you know it's over.

Cause of death is identical in both cases.

A single puncture
wound to the carotid artery.

The size of the wound
indicates the same weapon.

You two start making house
calls at the accountant's street.

See if he had any visitors.

Fitzroy, Phelps. You do the
same for the publisher.

Screw your courage to the
sticking place and will not fail.

Lady Macbeth.

Do I have to go with him.

That depends whether
you want to keep your job.

All right. Off you go.

Fitzroy

Word, please.

What we do requires
working as part of a team.

Any detective, you above all, needs
the trust and respect of his colleagues.

Quoting Shakespeare.

Sorry, sir.

It was misjudged.

One day I may not be
around to look out for you.

So you need fitting in. Where you going?

I'm just making the point.

Go to the pub with them.

Why let them moan about their job
or their wives or the money

that they lost in the nags?

Hell, let them moan about me.

I would never let them do that.

The more you are an outsider,
the weaker you will be.

And men like Phelps
they can smell weakness,

but that doesn't make him a bad man.

It's just the nature of being a copper.

Show them you can be one of the lads, eh.

You sound like my father.

God forbid.

Sorry for the delay.

I was comforting my aunt.

She's in great distress about Mr. Norris.

Well, I have a question about Mr. Norris.

Samuel Bedborough said that he and Norris

had a purely professional relationship,
only seeing each other a few times a year.

Really?

I found that strange.

Mr. Norris is always mentioning
Mr. Bedborough to my aunt.

He made up that two were thick as thieves.
That may not have been true, of course.

He may have been trying to impress
since he was secretly in love with her.

Hattie, can we go five minutes
without mentioning your aunt.

Yes, of course. My apologies.

You said Norris and Bedborough
were thick as thieves?

It is my understanding that they
dine together several times a month.

And Mr. Norris was always doing
this favoror that for Mr. Bedborough.

I believe that Mr. Norris recently arranged
the purchase of a house in Knightsbridge.

It was only a few doors down from

I'm about to mention
my aunt, but I believe it is relevant.

Go on.

Mr. Bedborough's new house
is on the same street as my aunt's.

The other residents were beside
themselves to have such a well-known

face living among them. Until...

Well,

I am not one to gossip.

Of course, but please do.

Mr. Bedborough moved in not two months ago.

And seem to be spending a
fortune on renovations.

But then last week,
the strangest thing happened.

Samuel Bedborough is
up to his neck in debt.

He's staying in a suite at the Brabham.

Not for much longer.

He's facing a hefty bill.

It was money all over town.

That's why the baliffs took
his house and everything in it.

And... he at the baliff's last night.

Doing what?

Trying to get back some piece of furniture
they took from him. Every day this week,

he's turned up trying to buy it back, but

they want the whole bill paid, or nothing.

What piece of furniture?

A writing desk.

Told them he couldn't write without it.

He told me he had no need
for muse or mood

he can write any time, anywhere.

Well, he wants that desk back.

Security caught him breaking
into the damn warehouse

last night, roughed him up a bit.

His bandaged hand.

This warehouse. I take
you have contacts there?

I have contacts everywhere.

Ain't seen nothing like that before.

It was amazing.

Good evening.

Detective Fitzroy.

Ain't it past your bedtime?

Very good.

Would anyone like a drink?

Oh, they don't serve milk in here.

I'll take that as a no.

Oh! Why don't you go with your mommy,
Fitzroy, so she can clean you up.

Why don't you shut your mouth, Phelps.

You want to repeat that?

I didn't think so.

Spoiled little brat.

You shouldn't have done that, boy.

We've got 10 minutes
'til the shifts change.

Bedborough's things over there.

They took everything from his house.

They don't miss a trick those boys.

No wonder he's in debt.

Man has expensive tastes.

These are from Maples of Piccadilly.

Here.

Doesn't look like much.

It's not.

He must be very attached to it.

These at best picking it back.

Maybe sentimental.

Harpocrates

What?

In one of Bedborough's early novels.

There's a lawyer, Harpocrates.

The Greek God of silence.

Legend has it that whatever
secrets he knows

Never speak of them.

He'll take them to the grave.

Of course, secrets are discovered.

Alone in Greenwich, Witches Core.

These are Bedborough's novels
covered in notes and reworkings.

They must be the original manuscripts.

Why keep them hidden.

Anything to report?

No, sir.

How's Bedborough?

He's writing and asked not to be disturbed.

Where is he?

What the hell's going on?

My thoughts exactly.

I needed to confirm a suspicion.

There's no time to wait we need to go.

Where?

The final death in the book is
when the author takes his own life.

You want to leave him unguarded.

He's not the author.

Miss Bedborough.

Put the knife down.

Do as he says.

Please.

The writing desk that was
taken from your brother's home.

That was yours?

Yes.

I found manuscripts inside with notes
from the publisher addressed to you.

So it was you who wrote the novels?

Not your brother.

Our mother died in the workhouse.
Our father...

God knows where he went.

Samuel was determined to
make something of himself,

but he struggled for years
to become a novelist.

Didn't have the heart
to tell him the truth.

That he lacked the talent.

He knew it too. Deep down.

And he's my older brother, I would
have done anything to help him.

So I did.

I rewrote his story

and found I had a flair for it.

By the time I submitted his manuscript

to the publishers, there
was barely a word of his left.

Why not put your own name on the cover?

Samuel begged me not to.

He could not have suffered the humiliation

the spinster sister was the one
putting food on the table and not him.

But after the success of
the book started to rise,

I did ask him if I could
put my name to the next.

That was when they called the meeting.

They?

Samuel Bellamy and Norris.

The three of them convinced me

that as a woman, my readership
would be half of that as a man.

They promised that one day
I could write under my own name, but

now was not the right time.

It was never the right time.

Why kill them?

The one benefit I received
from this arrangement

was that I would be well looked after.

I would have a comfortable
home and security.

But then one day,

the bailiffs arrived
and I found out the truth.

Samuel's debts were all consuming.

He'd spent every penny of my money.

Bellamy and Norris knew
all along, did nothing.

They didn't care.

As long as books were still being written
and they were receiving their money.

Money I was earning for them.

So this was your revenge.

And the world would know
that you were the true author.

I would have my moment of fame in death.

All this time

I have let my brother the shine.

For what?

To end up a poor spinster

back in a workhouse.

Would you like me to arrange a lift home?

No thank you.

I would take you myself, but
there are reports that have to finish

for the morning shift.

I understand.

Eliza, all this.

All this politeness is exhausting.

Isn't it just?

I didn't mean what I said
about your father's business.

I know you haven't been handed
anything to plate.

I know how hard you've worked.

But there are times
when you push me too far.

I only tease you because I'm
so comfortable in our friendship.

I suppose I can be a
little insensitive sometimes.

It's only because I'm envious.

Envious of me.

You're fulfilled in your life.

That's not lack of ambition.

That's something you should celebrate.

You have that rare thing that
most of us don't find in a lifetime.

True contentment.

That's why you're one of
the people I respect the most.

When you say one of...

Forgive me sir, I didn't
know you were still here.

What have you done now?

I did as you suggested.

I went for a drink and I tried to fit in.

Perhaps I tried a little too hard.

I couldn't go home to
my father like this. So

I thought I could sleep here.

I have a spare room.

You can stay there.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

Morning Duke.

Morning George.

Cheers Jim.

Thanks Duke.

Cheers Duke.

Violet.

Come.

Have a quick word, sir.

Take a seat, I'm almost done.

How was your trip, sir?

Don't ask.

Business or pleasure? Neither.

It was two days with my wife's family.

So, you've had time to think.

I trust you realise a good
opportunity this promotion is.

I have.

And you're right. It's a good opportunity.

But it's not one that's right for me.

At the moment, sir.

I pulled in a lot of favors
to get you this laddy.

Chance like this may not come up again.

I understand, sir, but my decision is made.

My life's here in London.

Well, I had hoped you would accept
the position so I could avoid this.

Sir?

Fitzroy's father, the Police
Commissioner wants you gone.

Boy's getting worse, not better.

I been trying.

He's an albatross.

Which is why I told you to put some
distance between yourself and him.

To let him sink or swim.

But you wouldn't listen to me.
Now he's drowning

and his father wants someone to blame.

So let me be crystal clear.

You're going to take this post in Glasgow.

Because there's no
longer a job for you here.