Season 5 | Episode 1: The Rival

♪ ♪ ELIZA: Inspector Wellington won't be returning.

Who will be his replacement?

NASH: Detective Inspector Alexander Blake.

He doesn't use private detectives.

Still, if anyone can change his mind... Well, I'll see what I can do.

BLAKE: What are you doing here, Miss Scarlet?

Well, the same thing as you, I imagine.

I think he's impressive.

ELIZA: You know where I am if you need me.

I do, and I won't.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (thunder claps) (whimpering) (click) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (people talking in background) (horse snorts) You got it?

PHELPS: I'm not being unreasonable.

I just don't like him.

Yes, you said.

And it's not just 'cause he took my job.

Charlie, at risk of repeating myself, it wasn't officially your job-- you were only... Acting detective inspector, yeah, yeah, I know.

It's got nothing to do with that.

Really?

I'm allowed to dislike people, you know?

(whistle blows) DRIVER: Whoa, whoa.

Especially when they take my job.

♪ ♪ OFFICER: Morning, Inspector.

Good morning.

Are we ready?

Yes, Inspector Blake.

All right, let's go.

(pounding) PHELPS: Police!

Open the door!

Go on, then.

Wait.

(door creaks) Always best to check.

♪ ♪ Spread out.

Two men to a room.

(officers talking in background) I don't care what you say-- I think he's impressive.

Course you do.

Did you notice he spent two years in Hong Kong?

He speaks fluent Mandarin.

Oh, and that'll come in useful.

And I believe he's served in many different parts of the world, and... Stop.

What is it?

Nothing.

I just want you to stop talking.

PHELPS: Come on, you lot!

Hurry up!

Stop faffing about and get to it!

FITZROY: Split up-- take a room each.

Make sure that you search everywhere.

(gun placed in holster) ♪ ♪ (ceiling creaks) We've searched the premises, sir.

I'm afraid we can find no one... Shh.

(ceiling creaks) (tapping solid wall) (tapping solid wall) (tapping hollow wall) ♪ ♪ (lock turns) (whispers): Wait here.

(steps creaking softly) ♪ ♪ (floor creaks) Police!

Stop where you are!

(sighs): Miss Scarlet.

Inspector Blake.

I can explain.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ MAN (outside): Back it up there, back it up there.

BLAKE: Seal off the front of the building and send word for the photographer.

Yes, sir.

So, can I explain myself now?

I don't know, can you?

Before I begin, I'd like you to keep an open mind.

What I'm about to tell you will help you solve the murder.

Miss Scarlet... ...we've known each other for less than two weeks, and in that brief period of time, I have made it abundantly clear that I do not need your help.

Really?

So, you noticed that the victim's body is in the second stage of rigor mortis, suggesting... A time of death between 2:00 and 6:00 this morning-- yes, I noticed.

And the lack of defense wounds on his arms?

Suggests a sudden attack rather than a prolonged struggle.

This I already know.

What I don't know is how you ended up in a locked room with a dead man.

It's... complicated.

Eliza Scarlet, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.

All right, all right, it's not that complicated.

I know his name.

The dead man.

And I don't think you do.

I thought not.

I also know who put that knife in his chest, and will gladly tell you here and now, but if you insist on wasting time by taking me to Scotland Yard, logging my arrest with the duty sergeant, putting me in a cell until you can find an available interview room, then please be my guest.

(slams chair) Start at the beginning.

Every detail, no matter how small.

It all began a month ago.

This is before you'd taken up your current position.

(people talking in background) ELIZA (voiceover): Things had been going well for my agency both in terms of quantity and quality of cases.

Extremely well, actually.

As such, I was able to rehire a former associate, a chartered accountant with an unrivaled knowledge of civil and criminal law: my esteemed colleague, Mr. Clarence Pettigrew.

Alongside a variety of private clients, we'd also been enjoying the patronage of Scotland Yard, thanks to an ongoing relationship with Detective Phelps.

Miss Scarlet!

Clarence!

I do hope I'm not interrupting, but I require your help on a most intriguing case, one that is tailor-made for your extraordinary talents.

BLAKE: Stop right there.

What?

I'm quite sure Detective Phelps has never been that polite to anyone.

Not even his own mother.

And as for your esteemed colleague, Mr. Clarence Pettigrew, he's a convicted felon who served 18 months for fraud.

I believe everyone deserves a second chance.

As do I.

So, please, begin again, and this time, with the actual truth, not some version of it designed to paint you in a favorable light.

I resent the accusation.

Hm.

♪ ♪ Very well, although, for the record, Mr. Pettigrew and I were at work, and we did receive a visit from Detective Phelps.

Although I may have overplayed the lightness of his mood.

Right, shut up and listen.

I don't want to be here any longer than I have to.

I've got five men off sick, twice the normal caseload, and I've not slept in a week 'cause my missus has just given birth-- again.

May I offer my congratulations?

Only if you want a slap.

This is yours if you want it.

You, you wish to hire us?

If you ask me, it's a wild goose chase.

Total waste of time.

But it's one more thing to get off my desk.

(door closes) (people talking in background) ELIZA: Lord Spencer Bowden, fourth earl of Cheshire.

He went missing some 12 years ago after being accused of murdering his lover.

I remember this-- this was quite the scandal at the time.

The newspapers ran with it for weeks.

She was his housemaid, wasn't she?

He stabbed her through the heart.

Warrants were issued for his arrest, but he was never found.

Well, a man with that kind of money can disappear off the face of the Earth.

There have been sightings of him from Edinburgh to Cornwall, even the West Indies and Canada, but nothing that has resulted in an arrest.

So, what's changed?

Well, apparently, he's been spotted again.

This time in London.

Well, if he's evaded capture this long, he may well be moving his money across international borders.

I'll see if I can find a trail.

I'll pay a visit to our eyewitness, Amelia Bowden.

His wife?

His daughter.

DRIVER: Hya!

AMELIA: I had hoped to receive a visit from the police themselves.

ELIZA: My agency has been hired by Scotland Yard.

But I, I assure you we work to the highest professional standards.

Well, I suppose you cannot do any worse.

It has been 12 years since Edith was murdered, and the police have still not found my father.

Edith was your housemaid?

I'm sure you know the whole depraved story, just like the rest of the world.

Do you believe your father's guilty?

I do.

(voice trembling): That man caused so much pain to so many.

His actions drove my poor mother to an early grave, God rest her soul.

(crying): Forgive me.

There's no need to apologize, Miss Bowden.

You filed a report with the police a few days ago saying that you'd seen your father.

It was Sunday morning.

I was leaving the house to attend a sermon at St. Luke's when I saw him right across the street.

Our eyes met for a brief moment.

I was overcome by anger and, I cannot deny, a little fear.

I came inside to regain my composure, but when I looked again from the drawing room window, he had gone.

And you're sure it was him?

He is my father, Miss Scarlet-- I am sure.

And have you had any other contact with him in the time that he's been missing?

There have been letters asking for money, but they were fraudulent, pretending to be my father.

His notoriety is widespread, as is the shame he has brought on our family.

(voice breaking): He made us pariahs, destroyed our name, our reputation.

You must find him!

Before he does more harm.

♪ ♪ (exhales) I thought shepherd's pie for tea.

Fine, I'll talk to myself, then.

How are you, Ivy?

A bit tired, actually.

Been on my feet all day, but thanks for asking.

Sorry.

I was miles away.

Yes, I gathered that-- so, shepherd's pie?

Mm... You're more than welcome to make something else.

That'd be lovely, thank you.

Oh, I almost forgot-- this came for you today.

Postmark's from New York.

Well, aren't you going to read it?

Yes.

In private.

(laughs) Very well.

Mm!

I fail to see the relevance of this.

Well, you, you asked for every detail.

Every detail related to the case.

What has this letter to do with anything?

Well, the letter was from your predecessor, Inspector Wellington.

In it, he stated that he'd been offered a permanent position in the New York Police Department, and with it, a promotion to superintendent, a position he'd never be offered in London, so, it was good news indeed.

Why was he writing to you?

We're, um... We're old friends, which was why I was so pleased for him.

In fact, I was more than pleased for him.

I was delighted.

I don't believe you.

(chuckles): Well, Inspector Wellington and I are old friends.

Of course I was delighted for him.

I don't believe you know anything that can help with this investigation, and...

I think you're stalling for time.

I'm not entirely sure why.

Yet.

Right, I'm taking you to Scotland Yard.

We'll start with obstruction of justice and go from there.

The dead man's name is Jonathan Harbourne.

He lives at 215 Cable Street.

If you send someone to that address, you'll find proof of his identity.

215 Cable Street?

Mm.

Detective Fitzroy?

Sir.

I need you to go straight to this address.

FITZROY: Yes, sir.

BLAKE: Take Irwin and Phelps with you and report back immediately with your findings.

FITZROY: Yes, sir-- of course, sir.

IVY (voiceover): Oh, Lizzie.

I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.

(sniffles) There's, there's nothing to say.

He's not coming back.

(exhales) Do you remember what your father used to say?

Only hopeless people cry.

And you're not without hope, Lizzie.

You've a whole future ahead of you.

He always used to say that... No more tears or there'd be no supper.

(laughs): But there always was.

(chuckles) (sobbing) Oh, Lizzie.

Come here.

(sniffling) (shushes) (breathes deeply) (shushes) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Oh!

Clarence, I thought you had the day off.

Ah, uh, yes, uh, I had, uh, planned to, but, uh, circumstances change, as they are wont to do.

(chuckles) (chuckles) Is everything all right?

I heard the news about Inspector Wellington, and, um, I thought that today of all days was not the time for you to be in the office alone.

Ivy's spoken to you.

Clarence, I'm perfectly well...

Yes, yes, yes.

You will say that you are fine, but we both know that that is not true.

Uh, and so, I've given this a great deal of thought, and it is my belief that at this moment in time, company may be of some degree of comfort to you.

♪ ♪ (exhales) Quiet, or even silent, company.

Since I am a man who is at a loss to know what to say when it comes to matters of the heart.

(stammering): In, in fact, I'm rather out of my depth even expressing this much.

Well, in that case, thank you, Clarence.

And there was something I wanted to talk to you about.

Oh, God.

It's not that.

(exhales) It's about Detective Phelps.

He hired us to work the Bowden case, but he was only ever a temporary appointment.

And now that Inspector Wellington will not be returning, it's my belief that Charlie Phelps will be replaced by a permanent candidate.

And you worry that the new man will take us off the case.

Exactly.

So, we need to find out who's going to replace Phelps, but who might know that?

I can think of one person.

(people talking in background) (door squeaking) ELIZA: Still can't believe you're allowed to use this office.

Well, I'm not exactly allowed.

In fact, the governor has no idea.

It's through a little financial arrangement I have with a warden here.

You have a warden in your pay?

You could go to prison for that, Patrick.

So, how are you, Eliza?

I'm here because I need your brain.

Mm, my brain is always at your disposal.

You know that.

Inspector Wellington won't be returning from New York.

So I hear.

And I, uh, well, I wish to know who will be his permanent replacement.

I doubt very much it'll be Phelps.

Your instincts are correct-- hm?

The smart money is on a detective inspector from Bristol.

By the name of Alexander Blake.

Not too much is known about him, but he has an excellent reputation.

Hard-working, honest.

All the worst things a man can be.

He's ex-Army, officer.

Served all around the empire-- oh, and there's something else.

Something you will not like.

Go on.

He doesn't use private detectives.

(sighs) He halved the crime rate in Bristol just by using his own men-- saved the city a fortune.

So, you can see why the commissioner likes him.

Still, if anyone can change his mind... Well, I'll see what I can do.

That was most helpful-- thank you, Patrick.

Hm.

He asked you to join him in New York, didn't he?

Your inspector.

But if you'd gone, it would have been as his wife.

A superintendent can't have a wife who's a private detective.

You'd have been forced to give up everything you've worked so hard for.

If you know so much, why are you in prison?

(chuckles) It's a question I ask myself every day.

(sighs) I sent Detective Fitzroy to the dead man's house.

Is there anyone else at those premises that could pose a threat?

No.

Not that I'm aware of.

(clears throat): You were telling me of Inspector Wellington's departure and how it connects to this case?

I was, uh, contracted by Detective Phelps to find the fugitive Lord Bowden, and when Detective Phelps was replaced by you, I wished to know if that contract was still valid, which is why I came to see you at Scotland Yard.

I assume you remember.

Oh, I remember.

(church bells ringing) ♪ ♪ Oh, good morning, Eliza!

Good morning!

I trust you are well?

I'm quite well, thank you.

What brings you here?

Oh, I wish to see Inspector Blake.

I believe he begins work today.

Yes, that's correct.

Um, just, before you go in, um... Oliver, please.

I will miss Inspector Wellington.

I will miss him very much, as I'm sure you will, too.

But he's made his decision to stay in New York and we must respect that.

I thank you for your kindness, but as I said, I'm, I'm quite well.

I, I was actually just going to say, Inspector Blake is in a different office.

You'll find it upstairs, on the first floor.

Oh!

Well... (chuckles) Thank you.

♪ ♪ (shouting and arguing) ♪ ♪ (knocks softly) Oh, um...

Inspector Blake, I presume.

May I congratulate you on your new position?

From what I hear, it's well-deserved.

And you are?

My name's Miss Eliza Scarlet.

I've come to update you on the Lord Bowden case.

I was hired by Scotland Yard to investigate the recent sighting.

You work for a detective agency?

I own a detective agency.

And I, um, thought this might be a good opportunity to outline the history of my working relationship with your predecessors.

In here are, uh, numerous case reports, letters of reference, and, as you see, newspaper clippings showing the, uh, investigations that I've helped to solve.

I'm afraid you're wasting your time.

I do not engage the services of private detectives.

Well, may I at least present the progress I've made on the Bowden case?

There is no need-- my officers will deal with it.

However, if you have a contract, you will be paid for your work so far, but that is all.

Good day.

I'm sure it would take anyone time to understand the unique challenges that this city presents, so, while you're finding your feet, why not turn to those who've been working here for some time?

That is a fair point, and I will take it under consideration.

Should I change my mind, I will contact you immediately.

You're just saying that so that I leave.

Yes.

Miss... Scarlet, as I've already said.

Miss Scarlet, I have found through bitter experience that private investigators do not compare to professional police officers.

I do not trust them, I do not use them, I do not need them.

It's not my intention to be rude.

You're doing a wonderful job of it.

Please shut the door on the way out.

♪ ♪ (door closes) Yes, as first visits go, I must confess it was not ideal.

Not unless you planned to irritate and insult me.

I didn't insult you.

My mistake-- it must have been the other female detective I spoke to that day.

I assume there's a reason you're telling me all this, given I was present.

I severed your contract, so you were determined to find a clue that proved I'd been short-sighted and would be compelled to rehire you on the case?

Something like that.

Go on.

The day after we met, I went to, uh, visit Amelia Bowden again, which is when I learned about the break-in.

When did this happen?

(voice trembling): Last night.

I came home to find the house had been ransacked.

I have been waiting for the police all morning, but they are yet to arrive.

What's been taken?

(sniffling): Oh, family silver, jewelry, works of art-- all gone.

He even took my mother's wedding ring.

"He?"

My father.

This is why he came back.

He has, no doubt, run out of money, and now has to resort to stealing from his own flesh and blood.

Are you sure it was your father?

There is a safe in what used to be his study.

It was opened using the combination lock.

(sighs): You said you were out at the time of the robbery.

Were your servants not at home?

These days, I have only a single housemaid.

She does not wish to live on the premises.

She's superstitious.

My father committed murder in the servant's bedroom.

(people shouting and calling in background) ELIZA: List of stolen items.

Some, uh, family silver, jewelry, artwork by Gainsborough.

Hmm.

Let's head back to the office.

Work out our next steps.

We need a plan.

There's nothing I like more than a plan.

You and me both, Clarence.

That and a good to-do list.

Oh, yes, that, too.

(chuckles) So, Lord Bowden needs money quickly.

We could, uh, make inquiries on the less salubrious end of the pawnshop market.

No, Lord Bowden won't go to any pawnshop.

He needs serious money.

The pawnshop will offer you a fifth of the face value, and that's if you're lucky.

But there are places he could get a lot more.

And you know of such a place?

I might, but, well, it's not the kind of place I'm used to going to personally.

Well, I'm sure it'll be fine.

How bad can it be?

Mm.

CLARENCE (softly): A client of Mr. Nash told me about this place.

I didn't realize it was quite so earthy.

There is a coded message we need to give in order to gain entry.

I think I can remember it.

You think?

(aloud): Good evening.

I'm a friend of Wang Zhenglin, and I have a gift for his daughter.

(hisses out breath) Not his daughter.

His sister.

His aunt?

Uh... (notes shuffling) This should be enough for the whole family.

(man coughs) Very fetching.

Shall we?

CLARENCE: It's what you might call a specialist auction.

No questions asked of buyers or sellers, and the clientele have some serious money.

If I were Lord Bowden, this is where I'd come.

Even with the masks, it's an awful risk for him to show up in person.

Unless he's desperate.

(whispering): Do you have a photograph?

No, not a recent one.

He's been gone for 12 years.

Makes a nice change from being in the office, doesn't it?

I must confess I'm enjoying it rather more than I thought I would.

(men laughing in background) GRINT: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for coming to what may be our most intriguing event for some time.

Let us begin with lot number one.

(gavel bangs) Lot 14 is at £120.

Any more?

(gavel bangs) Sold for £120.

ELIZA: That's 14 lots.

Still nothing.

What if Lord Bowden hasn't even heard of this place?

If nothing turns up, maybe we should go and talk to the auctioneer, see what he knows?

That's an excellent idea, Clarence.

Really?

Mmm.

Thank you, Eliza.

(clears throat): Next, we come to lot 15, an exquisite solid silver Robert Kane carving set with an array of jewelry, with verified artwork from Mr. Thomas Gainsborough.

Amelia Bowden said some of the pieces stolen were by Gainsborough-- this could be it.

Due to the unique nature of these items, the bidding will open at £600.

(crowd murmuring) 600.

Thank you, sir-- any more for 600?

605.

(whispering): If he's here, he may give himself away.

610.

615.

GRINT: 615.

(whispering): Clarence.

(whispering): Is that him?

ELIZA: I'm not sure.

But he does look familiar, even with the mask.

GRINT: 625.

ELIZA: There's something about him.

GRINT: Can we do any more?

I can't put my finger on it.

GRINT: Any more than 625?

MAN: 640.

ELIZA: There.

GRINT: 640.

See?

See what, exactly?

He's involved in this.

I can sense it.

GRINT: Any more?

Watch his reaction when the bidding goes up.

700.

GRINT: 700.

Any more?

£700.

Any more on 700?

Going once.

Going twice.

750!

(hissing): What are you doing?

(crowd murmuring) See?

GRINT: A most generous offer from the lady at the back.

750.

Do I hear 760?

May I ask a question?

Yes.

What happens if you win?

GRINT: The bidding is at 750 from the lady at the back.

750, going once.

Going twice.

Sold!

(sighs) GRINT: To the lady at the back.

(bidders applauding) I take it you don't have £750 on you.

(whispers): Not exactly.

(whistle blowing) OFFICER: Police!

(whistle blowing, men shouting) (grunting) ♪ ♪ Stop!

Who the hell are you?

I could ask you the same question.

(whistle blowing, men running) No, no, no, please!

Come on.

(exhales): I can explai... You're making a mistake.

I'm working for Scotland Yard.

(people talking in background) (quietly): I shouldn't be here.

Mmm.

BLAKE (speaking Mandarin): Put them in the wagon.

Take them to Scotland Yard.

FITZROY: Yes, sir.

GRINT (whispering): Seriously.

OFFICER: Sir.

BLAKE: Yes.

Miss Scarlet.

What are you doing here?

Well, the same as you, no doubt.

But I now have information that's vital to this case.

Which is?

Oh, I just don't feel inclined to share it.

Not unless you honor our original agreement and hire my agency.

That's blackmail.

That's business.

Not for you, it isn't.

The man who was here to sell the stolen goods.

It wasn't Lord Bowden.

Did you see him?

Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn't.

The man I saw run away isn't any of these.

Are you sure?

Certain.

I did recognize him, I just wish I could remember from where.

You're persistent, Miss Scarlet, I'll give you that.

Even your compliments sound like insults.

It's quite a skill.

Can I ask you something?

Why don't I hire private detectives?

I have had numerous bad experiences over the years.

I hired one firm who were working for myself and the criminals I was investigating.

Another had found key evidence and withheld it for weeks to bump up their final fee.

I could give you countless other examples, but the point is, I do not respect the profession.

There are exceptions in every line of work.

Such as yourself?

There's much about me that you don't know.

I know enough.

And what have you gleaned from the two occasions that we've met?

That you're ambitious and determined.

You'd have to be, to get this far.

You believe the ends justify the means, and as such, you're willing to bend the truth to get what you want.

(chuckles) And on the frequent occasions when you do lie, you give yourself away with a distinct tell.

I do not have a tell.

You affect a frown before you speak, as if you were lost in thought, searching for the right turn of phrase, when in fact, you know exactly what it is you're going to say.

Interesting.

Wrong, but interesting.

Anything else?

The pockets in the side of your dress.

You use them as a psychological crutch.

When you stand with your hands inside them, as a man might, it projects an outer confidence which often you do not feel on the inside.

(inhales, clears throat) You'll allow me to reply in kind.

Be my guest.

You moved your office from downstairs.

It's a simple but effective show of dominance, making people have to walk upstairs to see you.

"Dominance."

Mr. Darwin would be impressed.

But sadly, you're wrong.

No, I, I just prefer the view from here.

You can see the Thames and St. Paul's.

(chuckles) You have an impressive array of classic novels.

There's Dickens, Hardy, Tolstoy.

But from the pristine condition of the covers, I'd say that you don't return to them often.

You read for self-improvement, not for pleasure.

With one exception-- "Treasure Island."

Clearly a favored tome, suggesting a hidden desire for adventure and escapism.

That's not mine.

Uh... Have I offended in some way?

I don't think anything I said was... Go through the mug shots again from the beginning.

You may have missed something.

But the man I saw isn't in there, I'm certain.

Then we have no further business.

Good night, Miss Scarlet.

ELIZA: After the rather unceremonious way you bid me good night, I went back to my office to consult the Bowden file.

I felt sure I was missing something, and, indeed, I was.

The man we were trying to identify that night is the same man who lies dead upstairs with a knife in his heart.

Jonathan Harbourne.

There's a reason why I couldn't find him amongst your mug shots.

He had no criminal record.

But now I know where I'd seen him before.

He was in the case file.

Jonathan Harbourne was Lord Bowden's valet.

When Detective Fitzroy returns, no doubt he'll confirm it.

There are photographs and correspondence between the two men at Harbourne's house.

But, um, in the meantime, I imagine you'd like to know who the killer is.

Shall we?

Come along.

(chuckles) ELIZA: After the murder of their housemaid, Lord Bowden fled, taking most of his fortune with him.

His wife and daughter were forced to dismiss most of their servants, including Jonathan Harbourne.

How did you know he was here?

Well, my colleague Clarence was also at the underground auction when you carried out your raid.

(both grunting) All right, all right.

(yelps) (whistles blowing) ELIZA (voiceover): He was able to escape by a side exit.

And when he found himself outside, he saw Jonathan Harbourne running off.

He followed him to that address at Cable Street, the same address that I gave you earlier.

On searching that property, we found details of this abandoned building.

I assume it was his backup plan, should he need somewhere to hide.

All of which led us here, where we found him dead.

The knife, you will have noticed, is made of pure silver.

The hallmark on the side reads "City of London, 1836, "Robert Kane, the world-renowned silversmith."

Does that hallmark sound familiar to you?

It matches the dining set stolen from the Bowden residence.

Stolen items that were never sold, thanks to the raid you carried out at the auction.

The silver dining set, the jewelry-- everything was returned to its original owner.

Amelia Bowden.

She arranged for Harbourne to burgle her house.

Presumably, he'd be paid from the auction proceeds.

I can only imagine that they fell out somehow.

Perhaps he was blackmailing her, but it was Amelia Bowden who thrust that knife into his chest.

I don't believe that her father had anything to do with this.

I suspect she used his name as a smokescreen to hide her own involvement.

My colleague Clarence left here shortly before you arrived.

He hired two associates who are more versed in the physical side of our business, and by now, they will have apprehended Miss Bowden and taken her to Scotland Yard.

In fact, they may even be there already, so we should make our way back there now.

I assume you have a carriage outside.

Amelia Bowden is indeed at Scotland Yard, but she did not arrive with your Mr. Pettigrew.

I arrested her at 6:00 this morning, two hours before I came here.

What?

Allow me to explain.

(voiceover): After the raid on the auction, the question was who to interview first.

Thank you, Sergeant.

BLAKE: As I'm sure you know, some men will not talk no matter what they're threatened with.

You can waste hours and days only to be met with a wall of silence.

But there are others who would sell their own children to stay out of prison.

(quietly): I shouldn't be here.

Him.

(voiceover): I often find the way to make people talk is to do very little talking myself.

I don't know anything about Lord Bowden.

(stammering): All, all the sellers at the auction are anonymous.

Well, we give them numbers, of course, so, so, all I know is, the man you're looking for is number 15.

I wish I could be more, more helpful, I really do, but that, that's all I know.

I suppose there are some people I could ask?

(exhales) I will make some inquiries and come back next week.

(stammers) In a few days?

Tomorrow night?

That would be most appreciated.

All, all right.

But, but not here.

My life would not be worth living if people knew I was a snitch.

(woman laughing, people talking in background) BLAKE (voiceover): Mr. Grint arranged to meet me the following night in a local public house, where the beer is most certainly watered down.

He had made contact with the man in question.

Are you sure it was him?

Where did you find him?

He found me.

He, he wanted to know when the next auction was.

He said he had more things to sell.

So I told him in a month or so.

Did he give a name?

No, but whilst we were talking, we were interrupted by a lady.

Well-spoken, rich.

She said she'd followed him.

And she was quite upset and angry, but they didn't want to s...

They didn't want to speak in front of me, so they went outside.

But I followed them.

And... And they were arguing.

She accused him of stealing her things and demanded them back.

She said the agreement was off.

Well, the man just laughed and said that he was going to sell them, whether she liked it or not.

But this time, he was go...

He was gonna keep all the money to himself.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Can you describe this woman?

It was Amelia Bowden.

Which also matched up with my other line of inquiry, one which I'm certain your Mr. Pettigrew would have discovered.

What, that she recently renewed her insurance policy for three times the previous value?

The police raid on the auction meant Miss Bowden received all her possessions back.

But Harbourne wasn't happy that their deal hadn't come to fruition, so he stole them from her again to sell elsewhere.

And like he said, this time he intended to keep all the money himself.

But Miss Bowden got her revenge?

We raided her house at dawn.

(officers talking in background) BLAKE (voiceover): The housemaid told us she'd been out late last night and had come back in an agitated state.

Sir.

BLAKE (voiceover): A pair of bloodied gloves were found at her property.

She was arrested and taken straight to Scotland Yard.

How did you find out about this place?

She confessed.

Hasn't said a word.

There's a hackney carriage stand around the corner from her home.

We spoke to a driver who picked her up late last night.

He told us about this address.

Miss Bowden knew Harbourne used this place to hide stolen goods, so she came here to find him, and, well, the rest you know.

I take it you closed the door to the attic to delay my finding you.

Well, I, I had hoped to give Clarence a head start, but now I realize it was all a waste of time.

Not completely.

I didn't know the identity of Jonathan Harbourne.

You'd have found out soon enough.

Perhaps.

What happens now?

Will I be charged with obstruction of justice?

There will be no charge.

This time.

OFFICER: Sir.

BLAKE: Right, this side first, please.

Let me know if you need more light.

There are details on the murder weapon that need to be clear.

If you wouldn't mind?

♪ ♪ (door closes) (people talking in background) (sighs) ♪ ♪ Ivy?

Ivy?

(sighs) ♪ ♪ (sighs) (kisses) (blows out) (glasses clink) I see more of you now than I did when I was a free man.

Surely you have better places to be.

Sadly, not.

(sighs): Well, I was supposed to be playing poker with a rather odd fellow on D block.

Although probably best to cancel.

I'm not entirely sure what he's in for.

I heard about the Bowden investigation.

Is that what's troubling you?

There'll be other cases.

You'll get by-- you always do.

I'm not interested in getting by.

Getting by isn't enough, not anymore.

It needs to have been worthwhile.

What does?

All of it, Patrick.

(breathes deeply) If I have to live a life alone, then I need to excel in my chosen profession and have some lasting success.

Otherwise, what has it all been for?

(inhales) I know what you're going to say.

You do?

Well, there are plenty of married people with families who are also lonely.

Well, I wasn't going to say that, but it is a valid point.

The journey to success will always be more fulfilling than reaching the destination.

I wasn't going to say that, either, but I really wish I had.

I probably shouldn't think about it too much, because no one is satisfied all the time.

I really do need to start writing this down.

(chuckles) What were you going to say, then?

That perhaps you should set your sights on short-term goals.

Such as?

Getting drunk and playing poker.

Is that the best you have to offer?

You might win.

Only if you let me shuffle the deck.

Are you insinuating that I would cheat somehow?

Yes, Patrick-- yes, I am.

(sighs) (exhales, clicks tongue) (click) ♪ ♪ ELIZA: I'm here to give you a warning.

The guild have taken against you and will stop at nothing to undermine your position.

BLAKE: I will run my division in whatever way I see fit.

You have a daughter, do you not?

What case shall I be working on?

Background checks for a new clerical office?

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♪ ♪