♪ ♪ Scotland Yard wishes to engage your services.
Mm-- I hoped it would be that!
WILLIAM: There are various political groups in London; there's talk that they are becoming increasingly radical.
You don't think he was making a bomb.
TERENCE: The woman is unhinged.
Capable of anything.
Was there anyone in particular you wish to commend for their efforts?
♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) ♪ ♪ Mr. Parker's here.
MR. PARKER: As requested, the morning edition of the "London Post."
This is actually the first newspaper I have bought myself.
Uh-- we usually have them hand-delivered on a tray.
I had a chat with the seller.
Very colorful character.
Aren't they just?
This publicity will be so good for business.
They may even mention you, Rupert.
Miss Scarlet's business partner.
That would be most pleasing indeed, although I-I-I don't think my mother would be at all pleased to hear of my new investment.
Ah... here we are.
Read it to us.
"The campaign for women's suffrage "took a dramatic turn when a bomb plot was foiled "by Detective Inspector Wellington of Scotland Yard.
"Dogged determination... "countless lives saved... "The man is a credit to the police service.
Well, what does it say about you?
There's no mention of me or my part in the investigation, only Inspector Wellington and his "brilliant and tenacious mind."
(sighs) Doesn't mention me?
♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (indistinct street chatter) Hmm... Hm... As well as the "London Post," there are also... Da, da, doot, doot, doo... (sighs) Good... hm.
Yes, as I was saying, sir, as well as the "London Post," there are also articles in the "Telegraph" and the "Morning Chronicle."
So I believe.
Wonderful publicity, Wellington.
Thank you, sir.
So good, in fact, that I've had a telegram from the editor of the "Illustrated Police News."
They wish to write an article about you.
About me, sir?
It's an utter rag, of course, full of wild gossip and cheap sensation, but apparently the Home Secretary reads the damn thing.
Anyway, they're sending one of their journalists over this morning.
You might wish to mention me at some point.
My steady hand at the wheel, guiding the ship through choppy waters, inspiring all those who serve under me?
Use your own words, obviously.
Do that, Wellington, and the promotion we discussed will be yours.
♪ ♪ (door opening) (whistling) Who let you in?
Alfred, the desk sergeant.
I thought his name was Albert.
Seems you are good at forgetting names.
Mine in particular.
No mention of me at all.
No wonder you were so coy in telling me about it.
I stupidly mistook your slyness for modesty.
Eliza, it's, um...
I need that publicity.
For every ten clients that come to see me, nine do an about turn when they see that it's not Henry Scarlet behind the desk, but his daughter.
Eliza, I am a detective inspector for Scotland Yard.
It's one thing my men knowing about our arrangement, but it's quite another for it to be plastered across a newspaper.
If a situation occurs where we work together again, I will try my utmost to ensure that you receive the credit that you deserve.
I will try to give you the benefit of the doubt.
(knocking on door) Duke, There's a Mr. Bunce in reception.
I'll tell him to wait.
Then that's settled.
Oh... it is far from settled.
Send the journalist in.
♪ ♪ Guten morgen, Fraulein Scarlet.
Good morning, Herr Hildegard.
Fraulein Scarlet, may I introduce my niece, Tilly?
She has come to stay with me from Hamburg.
Delighted to meet you, Fraulein Hildegard.
During her stay, I'm sure she would welcome some time with a more mature lady such as yourself.
Someone who can impart advice about the latest fashions and indeed society gossip.
I know how you ladies like to talk.
I'm a little busy working to be aware of any gossip, Herr Hildegard.
And I have told Tilly all about you and your detective agency.
I have never seen her so excited.
Which presses me to venture, are you busy at this moment?
I'm afraid to say that I am, but, uh, perhaps another time.
Oh, such is a shame, since I have a case for you.
I am never too busy for you, Herr Hildegard.
Now what do you know about death photography?
HERR HILDEGARD (voiceover): There are those who wish to have one final image of their loved ones before they are buried.
There is a mark on his cheek.
Yes, Mr. Henderson.
HILDEGARD (voiceover): A friend of mine, James Henderson, provides this service.
(flash explodes) (door opens) It's a fascinating business you have here.
There are those who find it somewhat macabre, but I believe we provide an invaluable service to the bereaved.
Herr Hildegard speaks very highly of you.
He is most kind.
So how may I be of service?
I've been receiving some disturbing correspondence.
I informed the police, but they have as yet done nothing.
They are a constant disappointment, are they not?
They arrive in plain envelopes, with no address or postmark.
At different times on different days.
Each one contains a photograph I've taken of their deceased loved one.
But they've all been manipulated from the originals, see?
After the first two arrived, I believed someone was gaining access to my studio, so I burnt every negative in my archive.
But still, they keep coming.
And there is no message with them?
Isn't this message enough?
Whoever is doing this is clearly trying to terrify me.
That ghostly figure is no random woman.
You know her?
Her name was Catherine.
She was my wife.
She died last year.
And in here, we have our records room.
Every arrest and conviction going back to 1829.
There's actually a, uh, a warrant in there signed by Robert Peel himself.
(chuckles) You know, it truly is an honor to have been invited into the inner sanctum of such an esteemed detective.
Ah, I must say I'm surprised you've even heard of me.
You are too modest, sir.
Your reputation precedes you.
Well, that is for others to say.
Which they do.
You are the talk of London, Inspector.
It's just down... And I can honestly say with my hand on my heart, I wept tears of joy on hearing about your latest exploits.
Discovering of the bomb plot, oh-ho!
And not just of joy; of gratitude, too.
Well, that is, uh... And relief-- tears of joy, gratitude, and relief.
(tearful): Excuse me.
I am as emotional as I am loquacious.
I shall conclude by saying again, it is an honor to be in your presence.
And I know our readers will be absolutely fascinated to learn more about the courage of the man who keeps us safe in our beds at night.
Yes, whilst we're, um... whilst we're on that... You would do me a great service if, in the course of your writing, you were to mention the head of our division, Superintendent Stirling.
His leadership and guidance really is an inspiration to all those below him.
(chuckles) It is.
I understand completely, Inspector.
(exhales sharply): We all have masters to serve.
(both chuckle) And on that topic, might I suggest a little quid pro quo?
Our newspaper editor, no stranger to vanity himself, is, um, very keen to attract the largest possible readership.
(chuckles): As such, we tend to favor more... sensational stories.
Well, I'm sure we can find something.
(clears throat) Let's, uh, see what came in overnight.
Ah, here we are.
"Arson in a Tower Hamlets brothel."
We, uh... Ah.
"Dead body floating in the Thames."
(scoffs) Oh, for a world where men like we could be held in the public's affection.
(chuckles) I say "we," though you are, of course, younger than myself, but you take the point I'm making.
It is the death of the young and the beautiful that persuades people to part with their pennies.
Then you will understand, uh, that if the article is to be published, I shall need a... a novel or... intriguing case.
If the article is to be published?
Oh no, purely semantics, Inspector.
♪ ♪ (footsteps approaching) These are my very best magnifying glasses.
Baumann and Schuster.
They make the best lenses in Germany.
You are most kind, Herr Hildegard.
My father used to have an extensive collection.
But they seem to have gone awry.
Goodness only knows where he put them.
Your father was a great many things, but organized was not one of them.
These are the photographs sent to Herr Henderson.
One or two have slight marks on them.
I need to examine them more closely.
Do you know Mr. Henderson well?
Our paths often cross through work.
I have known him ten years or so.
He can't think of anyone who might wish to distress him.
He's a good man.
A kind man.
There in the corner.
And here, on the outside of the envelope.
It looks like dried blood.
A further threat, perhaps.
Well, then why make it so hard to see?
Did James tell you how Catherine died?
She was a troubled soul.
Took her own life.
And it was poor James that found her.
Whoever is doing this to him is most cruel.
♪ ♪ Mm.
♪ ♪ (door opens) (footsteps) Miss Scarlet?
My name is Amelia Evans.
We met at Mr. Henderson's studio.
Take a seat.
I know who's doing this.
I help James with his photography, but I was hired by his wife Catherine to be governess to their daughter.
Poor Catherine had been struggling for some time with her health.
She was prone to dark moods.
Things became so bad that...
I know how she died.
The poor man was broken.
When I started to help with his work, as well as my duties as governess to Violet, I didn't mean for us to become so close.
People can make such judgments.
That is why he wishes to keep it quiet.
Keep what quiet?
He proposed three weeks ago.
The very next day, the first photograph arrived.
She's punishing us.
She's sending these images from beyond the grave.
Surely you-you don't believe that.
Catherine warned me she would return and punish me if I went near her husband.
This is the revenge of her tortured soul.
And I will prove it to you.
(hinges squeaking) MEDIUM: Before she passed into spirit and left this mortal realm, your mother gave you something to remember her by.
It was... a painting?
Beautiful landscape of a river.
A city, London... No, wait.
The Seine at sunset.
Miss Scarlet is still not convinced, Mother.
Let's just say I enjoyed the spectacle.
That is what you believe you witnessed?
Well, the world would be a very dull place if we all just shared the same beliefs.
Mother has the gift.
She's had it since childhood.
Tell her what you know of Catherine.
She's a restless soul.
Vengeful towards my daughter.
And you think she is sending these photographs from beyond the grave?
I do not think it.
I know it.
Catherine has told me herself from spirit.
Miss Evans, would you mind if I spoke to your mother alone?
You're causing your daughter great distress.
Surely you can see that.
I'm only telling her the truth.
You're telling her fairy tales.
Cruel ones at that.
You're a lot like him.
He was a skeptic, too.
You knew him?
Not in life, but I see him now.
He follows you.
I don't know what your motives are for spouting such nonsense.
I will tell her.
Your father says that when you were a girl, you had a pet frog.
He once used it to demonstrate the effects of chloroform.
How do you know that?
You named the frog after your teacher.
Mrs. Dawkins, wasn't it?
♪ ♪ As you can see, there's a single bullet wound to the chest.
The entry point here.
The exit wound is larger because the bullet expands as it travels through the body, and...
I see that you're not taking any notes, Mr. Bunce.
Oh-oh, that is because you are so fascinating to listen to, Inspector.
And also because this crime does appear a little commonplace.
Our readers crave intrigue and mystery, as I believe I have already stated... several times.
(chuckles) Well, we have yet to do interviews with known associates, checks for previous convictions.
Perhaps that will throw up some intrigue.
Mm, and mystery.
(chuckles) (knock on door) Duke.
We just got a message from the Yard.
It was his business partner that shot him.
Some row over an unpaid loan.
Well, let's not be too hasty, Detective Jenkins.
There may be more to this than meets the eye.
Three witnesses saw him do it, and when he got arrested, he said... "I'm glad I killed him."
Excuse me, may I inquire as to what line of business they were engaged in?
They were chartered accountants.
There was a burglary in Clerkenwell that sounded promising.
Well, let's hope so.
Inspector Wellington, as you know, I'm a man who takes no pleasure from conflict.
Indeed, I run from it with all the strength I get from the good Lord.
But there are times when a foot must be put down.
And I regret to inform you that my foot, indeed both my foot-- feet-- have been thrust firmly into the ground.
What the hell are you talking about, man?
She vexes me so I can hardly string two words together.
You must speak to her, Inspector.
She will not listen to reason.
She's causing a commotion outside, trying to gain access.
Who is Miss Scarlet?
Oh, that female... She's my cousin.
A very dull and really quite plain, uninteresting woman.
(sighs) One moment, please.
(Duke sighs) (bells chiming, women chattering) No.
But I haven't even told you what I... No.
I need the criminal background on a suspect.
I believe she's practicing some kind of fraud.
Is that all you're gonna say to me?
William, you already let me down once.
Please do not do it again.
What are you doing?
Go with him.
He'll help you out.
No, no, no, no-- he likes me even less than I like him.
I'll wait for you to finish.
I do not want you loitering here.
(sighs) Wait here.
(thudding) (exhales) There are no records of Edith Evans having any criminal convictions.
You're sure this is everything on fraudsters and spiritualists?
Or she may have used a different name.
That's common in fraud.
You don't say.
This woman is connected to a crime reported here a few weeks ago.
I'd like to see the case file.
That ain't gonna happen.
I thought Inspector Wellington told you to help me.
He said show you the convictions for petty fraud, which I have.
So now it's time for you to leave.
Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank.
A man of your intelligence can make his own decisions.
(exhales) (exhales) It's one of your great strengths.
Well, thank... (chuckles) Out.
(bird squawking) AMELIA: I'm taking Violet to the park.
Say goodbye to your papa and to Miss Scarlet.
Goodbye, Papa, goodbye Miss Scarlet.
She's so good with Violet.
I don't know what I would've...
I should've told you we were engaged.
I'm a private man, and there are those who would question the haste with which I proposed.
Do you really believe her mother is involved in this?
Well, she's either a fraud or communing with the dead.
And I know which one I find most likely.
But even if she wanted to manipulate the photograph, she would lack the skill.
You said you burned the negatives, but before you did, who else would have come into contact with them?
You cannot possibly think... Amelia has been beside herself.
She's been suffering night terrors.
This whole business has been tearing her apart.
(sighs) I have to go away on business tonight, and she hates to be alone in the house-- is there any way you could...
I'm a private investigator, Mr. Henderson, not a nursemaid.
I fear she is losing her mind.
And I cannot lose her as I lost Catherine.
(laughs softly) AMELIA (voiceover): Thank you again for staying, Miss Scarlet.
I do hope I haven't inconvenienced you.
Not at all, my pleasure.
Nighttimes are difficult for me, given the things that have happened in this house.
That is why James is so keen for us to move away.
Where are you moving to?
And that's why he's gone, to see about new premises.
He believes we need a fresh start.
And do you?
Thank you, Ruth.
You do not have to get married, you know.
I wish to be married to James more than anything and have children of my own.
What woman would not?
You do not want to have your own family?
Um, one day, perhaps.
That will be all, thank you.
You may go home now.
I have not been entirely truthful with you, Miss Scarlet.
James and I, we were together whilst Catherine was alive.
And she knew.
That is why she swore to me that she would have her revenge.
We have brought this punishment on ourselves.
Whoever's punishing you is not a ghost.
Perhaps you will change your mind, since this is Catherine's bedroom.
The same room where she took her own life.
(laughter, people chattering) What happened with that journalist?
(clears throat) He told me to, uh, to contact him when I've got an "intriguing case."
Smarmy little git.
I wouldn't have to jump through these hoops for some Fleet Street hack if Stirling respected me.
He wanted me to, um, to sing his praises and talk about how well-run the department is.
(laughs) Sounds like him.
I would've had that promotion already if he thought I was the right sort of chap.
For being in the army.
If you'd been buggered at the same boarding school.
(chuckles) Way of the world, innit?
Snobby sods looking down their noses.
She's no better, your Miss Scarlet.
Why do you put up with her, anyway?
You were hoping to get something out of it?
No, that is not how I see Eliza.
Forgive me, of course; you'd never take advantage of a woman.
(laughs) Oh, she's annoying as hell.
But I still would.
Know what I mean?
You say that again and I'll knock through that bloody wall.
I've known Eliza since we were young.
Her father couldn't have done more for me if I was his own flesh and blood.
I hope you were courteous to her when you were helping her with her case.
Of course I was.
It's not her case.
It came in to us first.
It got filed under "Waste of Time."
(laughs softly) Ghouls, death photographers and messages from beyond the grave.
Straight out of a penny dreadful.
(thunder rumbles) (wind whistling) (soft thudding) (quietly): Stop being so ridiculous.
(Amelia screams) Please!
(crying) Miss Evans.
(shushes) It's all right.
It's just a dream.
(sniffles) I didn't mean to wake you.
I wasn't asleep.
Is there anything you'd like?
Some warm milk, perhaps?
The maid's gone home.
Then I'll make it.
You are very kind, but no, thank you.
We could have a brandy, for medicinal purposes.
(laughs softly) Believe me, I've tried.
It just makes things worse.
I'll be fine now.
Well, if you need anything, you know where I am.
(gasps) Oh, dear God.
What is it?
(thunder rumbles) (birds chirping) (footsteps approaching) Are you sure it was you who left the window open last night?
I always sleep with it open.
It was raining heavily, so if someone came through, there'd be footprints or hand marks.
But I can find nothing.
Because no one came through the window.
She's punishing us.
The front door was locked last night?
I locked it myself.
And apart from you and Mr. Henderson, who else has a key?
Ruth, our maid.
(bells jingle) ♪ ♪ (chimes) (chimes) Good morning, sir.
I wonder if you could help me.
Uh, a friend of mine came in here a few moments ago, a lady with a wicker basket?
She was sending a message to a mutual friend who we are to dine with this evening, but I believe it gave the wrong information of the restaurant where we are to meet.
Uh, I wonder if I might look at that message in order to check?
Messages treated with strictest confidence.
I-I do understand, of course, but she is a dear friend and is on occasion somewhat scatterbrained.
You know how us ladies can be.
Perhaps there's someone else I could speak to?
I'm in charge today.
I'm a private detective working a case and will pay you handsomely to look the other way.
You're a what?
(door opens, bell chimes) William.
What are you doing here?
I'm, uh, looking into the Henderson case again and my inquiries brought me here.
Scotland Yard is now interested in this case?
Stirling has, uh, requested that all open cases be resolved by the end of the month.
Some inventory from the home office.
So, we should pool the information that we have in order to bring the matter to a close.
What information do you have?
Well, there's a-a photographer by the name of Henderson and he has... he's been receiving photographs.
(laughs) You don't actually have any information, do you?
I've only just looked at the file and have not got up to speed.
Did you follow me here?
Do you want my help or not?
Why would I want your help?
'Cause you have that irritated look on your face.
The one you usually reserve for me.
You bring me that message now or I will break every bone in your body and then arrest you for assaulting a police officer!
Are you, uh, are you crying?
(sniffles) Just go and fetch it and no harm will come to you.
(paper shuffling) (clears throat) What?
He's little more than a child.
You told me to frighten him.
I'm so sorry, sir.
I-I can't find the contents of the message.
It's already been sent.
But I know who it went to, and will gladly be of service.
I'm not gonna hit you.
Do you know this person?
Did you change or manipulate these images?
Of course not.
I wouldn't even know how.
Perhaps you stole the negatives before they were destroyed.
Perhaps you had them copied by someone who did know how.
I don't understand.
Why are you asking me this?
What do you want?
I thought you were psychic.
This is just one file from many that I found upstairs.
Name of deceased, date, and cause of death.
She has records on hundreds of people.
It looks like there are funeral homes, death photographers, and several mortuaries that give her tip-offs.
Well, this one's from a "Ruth McCarthy."
The photographer's maid.
It's a list of Henderson's recent clients, along with information about the deceased, some from Henderson's appointment book, some just overheard conversation.
(laughs softly) I can explain.
"May 3rd, "Mr. Henderson takes dinner with German undertaker Herr Hildegard, Herr H. talks for some considerable time..." Sounds like him.
"Herr H. mentions female detective and tells stories of her father..." (laughs softly) You had a pet frog?
Look, I admit it, I do collect information.
But I did not send those postcards.
Why would I want to punish my own daughter?
Well, because you don't want her to be with a man you feel is unsuitable.
He's 20 years unsuitable.
And yes, I did encourage Amelia's belief that those photographs were from Catherine's ghost.
I hoped it might part them.
But that's all.
Well, if you didn't send the photographs, then who did?
I don't know.
♪ ♪ She was most convincing.
Well, she lies for a living.
Let's see what she says after a night in a cell.
We'll bring in the maid, a few others on the list, see what they have to say.
In the meantime, I'll update the Hendersons on these latest developments.
William... Do you believe in ghosts?
(chuckles) Of course not.
No, nor do I.
Sometimes I feel my father's presence.
And on occasion, I even speak with him.
Do you now think me quite peculiar?
Eliza, I've always thought you quite peculiar.
(laughs softly) Duke, message from the Yard.
That journalist wants to see you.
(grumbles) He wants to get a sketch of the spiritualist, see if he can get it in the early edition or something.
(clears throat) What?
I'll be there shortly.
It's, uh, publicity, for the division.
(sniffs) It's all very standard.
Now would you like me to call your carriage?
He's just writing about various cases that I've been working on.
Including this one, by the sounds of it.
Well, the Henderson case has-has piqued his interest.
You know what journalists are like-- they love sensation.
Were you going to tell him about me?
Yeah, it's... that's a complex situation, Eliza.
Seems fairly simple to me, William.
Once again, you wish to take all the credit for yourself.
I am attempting to improve my position, but there are obstacles in my path.
There's a cabal of ex-army officers above me.
Oh, you're facing prejudice in your chosen career.
What must that be like?
(sighs) ♪ ♪ AMELIA: Why can you not see?
Why will you not listen to me?
I'm sorry to disturb you.
I wanted to let you know that Scotland Yard have arrested Edith Evans on suspicion of sending the photographs.
When was this?
A few hours ago.
Uh, she's being held in custody along with your maid.
But it-it cannot be her.
Well, you'll have to take that up with the police, I'm afraid.
It seems they've once again taken an interest in your case.
That's not what I meant.
Just before you arrived, we found this on the doorstep.
Not ten minutes ago.
(sniffles) I'm leaving.
I have a cousin in Southwark.
She will put me up for a while.
Well, uh-- uh, can we at least talk first?
I cannot be wed to a man who does not believe or trust me.
Do you know what he said to me?
He wondered if I was behind this because, for some reason, I didn't want to marry him.
I now see where his suspicion has come from.
It's my job to consider all possibilities.
I wish to be married, to have children, to live a normal life.
If you do not, that is your concern, but do not try to twist the minds of others.
(stammers) (sighs) Mr. Henderson?
VIOLET: Place him there, gentlemen, and we shall begin.
Prop him up and I shall take the photograph.
His skin is pale.
Some more rouge, I think.
Do you want to play?
Where are the photographs, Violet?
Where do you keep them?
She told me not to say.
ELIZA: Catherine knew about you and Amelia.
Before she died, she planned one last act of revenge.
She told Violet about a game she wanted to play, a game that would take place as soon as Papa and Amelia were to be wed. She made the poor girl deliver these letters to you without knowing what was in them.
Where is she now?
Please, don't be angry with her, James.
My sweet girl.
It's all right.
(horse trotting) To which he said, "It's a complex situation."
To which I replied, "It seems fairly simple to me, William.
You wish to take all the credit for yourself."
Uh, I bumped into Herr Hildegard today.
And I-I met his niece; a rather dull sort of girl.
And even if William and I were not friends, he still gave his word.
It's still a betrayal.
Are you listening to me?
I'm sorry, um, this short attention span is the curse of being an only child.
(chuckles) Blame it on my mother for doting on me so.
How is Mrs. Parker?
Well, she... she is again urging me to be wed, continue the Parker family name.
(chuckles) If only I could find a wife who would complement the more complex aspects of my life.
Eliza, um... both of our lives, they are... unconventional.
Perhaps we might come to some arrangement.
Rupert, there's no doubt in my mind that we would make each other extremely unhappy.
See, I am not asking you to partake in any kind of intimacy.
I can assure you I can think of nothing worse.
(laughing) (laughs): Stop it.
(both laughing) (knock on door) Come.
Sorry to bother you, sir.
I wonder if I... Continue.
It's about that article, sir.
The one for the "Illustrated Police News."
No problems, I trust?
Quite the opposite.
They are going to press tonight, and the serialization will begin in the morning.
I have also told them to include mention of you and the wider efficiency of the department.
Well, that's very good of you.
There's really no need.
I look forward to reading it.
(chuckles) Well done, Wellington.
Was there something else?
Uh, yes, sir.
You mentioned that you would make a decision about my promotion to chief inspector.
Did we not speak about that earlier?
If we had, I-I would have remembered.
I'm afraid I gave the job to Hudson.
(sighs) Better luck next time, eh?
Chin up, and all that.
With all due respect, sir, Hudson has only been with the division for three months.
(clears throat) He's been in the army for five years.
The Queen's Own Hussars, no less.
Yes, well, that's hardly... And his father and I were in the Crimea together.
You've never seen anyone so calm under fire.
His whole family have ice in their veins.
You should meet the mother.
♪ ♪ (street hawker speaking indistinctly) Ah, good day, Fräulein Scarlet.
Herr Hildegard, Fräulein Hildegard.
Where are you off to on this fine morning?
Your friend is taking us for a stroll in the park.
He came by last night and introduced himself.
He is so charming and amusing, and handsome, too.
Eine hübscher gentleman, huh?
Ah, here he is.
Good morning, Mr. Parker.
Good morning, Herr Hildegard.
Mr. Parker, what a delightful surprise.
Guten morgen, Fräulein.
(door creaks) Apologies.
I, uh, I thought you were out.
How did you get in here?
Henry was always losing his keys, so he, uh, gave me a spare.
In fact, this is his second spare.
He lost the first.
What do you want?
I left you a note, and a-a present of sorts.
I owe you an apology, and...
I didn't want to have an argument.
Also, some things are better written down.
You have a tendency to infuriate me in person, and it makes me lose my train of thought.
And this is your apology?
"Death and the Maiden.
Female Detective Cracks Case of Ghostly Terror."
I got there just as the press was about to roll.
I don't know what to say.
I-I can't vouch for the quality of the writing, but your part in solving the case is mentioned in full, as is the address of your premises.
Well, I should, uh, I should go.
Uh, should I leave your spare key?
Keep it, just in case.
♪ ♪ (glass shatters) ♪ ♪ (click) ♪ ♪ IVY: Inspector Wellington, it's Miss Scarlet; she's disappeared.
How dare you, William!
How dare I come and rescue you?
I would hardly call this a rescue.
(both screaming) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ANNOUNCER: Go to our website, listen to our podcast, watch video, and more.
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