2: S2E1

Someone who works at a top-end dressmakers, who tailor for the queen.

CLARA: They switch it during a fitting and use the original to summon Tilvane somewhere. And when she arrives they kidnap her! But who would want the queen's doctor?

FLEET: Or want to get rid of her.

NARRATOR: By now the full gloom of the January night had descended, and the street was deserted, most sensible people having gone inside their homes or traveled off to more interesting parts of town. What should have stood out to Fleet and Clara – and it was only due to their excited condition that it did not – was the muted-black but nevertheless extraordinarily-high-end cab parked across the street, with no cabbie at the reins.

CLARA: We've got to tell Julius.

FLEET: Tell him what? That we went behind his back to find out exactly what he didn't want us to? We need to keep moving and find Tilvane.

SANDRINGHAM: You know what I'd do?

FLEET: Sandringham?

SANDRINGHAM: Good evening, both.

CLARA: Where on earth did you come from?

SANDRINGHAM: Eleven years of professional intelligence operations training, including camouflage and silent manoeuvrability. And, more recently, from behind that tree.

FLEET: So you know what we've found.

SANDRINGHAM: I do.

CLARA: We need to see Julius.

BALMORAL: You can count on it, Miss Entwhistle.

CLARA: Balmoral!

FLEET: Where– no, never mind.

BALMORAL: Fourteen years, and more recently from behind Sandringham.

SANDRINGHAM: You know what I'd do, Inspector?

FLEET: Come with you?

SANDRINGHAM: Ah! We are on the same page at last. Yes, if you wouldn't mind. I mean you should feel free not to, of course, but Balmoral here is something of a champion short-distance runner.

BALMORAL: And Sandringham here is something of a champion amateur boxer.

SANDRINGHAM: So you wouldn't get very far.

FLEET: You'd chase us down and box us into submission?

SANDRINGHAM: Well, I don't think we would box Miss Entwhistle here, would we?

BALMORAL: We'd endeavour to avoid that eventuality.

SANDRINGHAM: Nobody wants that.

CLARA: We're not running anywhere. We want to see Julius!

BALMORAL: Splendid. In the cab over there. He's really quite eager to see you too.

SCENE 8: Julius Bell's Cab

NARRATOR: The four crossed the street and Fleet and Clara entered the cab, with Balmoral and Sandringham taking the reins. The interior of the carriage was unlit except for meagre streams of light passing in from the streetlamps, and slumping to one side was the figure of Julius Bell, eyes closed, some paper on his lap, with one hand holding a cloth full of ice to his forehead, and the other hand holding a large glass of whiskey. The unstopped bottle on the table to his side, and the sickening cloud of alcohol emanating from him, suggested this was, by some distance, not his first glass.

JULIUS: Ah. My daring duo. I sit bound like Prometheus to the rock of my responsibilities, my liver to be eaten daily by the eagle of duty and what have you. Come. Bring me words of comfort in my hour of need.

FLEET: Julius–

JULIUS: Oh! My manners have flown off like some unruly pigeon. Can I offer you some libation? I have the remainder of whatever this is. No? Miss E?

CLARA: No, thank you.

FLEET: We know who she is, Julius.

JULIUS: Have I told either of you the one about the magician?

FLEET: Julius, we know who she is.

JULIUS: My dear detective Lazarus. Do tell.

CLARA: Tilvane. She works for the Queen. A medical engineer.

JULIUS: Tilvane is the chief royal medical engineer. She is el capitan. The one truly responsible for making old Vicky ship-shape every time some malcontent decides to take a potshot.

FLEET: Is someone planning something?

JULIUS: Always, Inspector! Someone is always planning something! It never ends.

CLARA: What about the other medical engineers?

JULIUS: Not up to snuff. Not by themselves. Tilvane. We need her back before someone realises HM is vulnerable. Did you actually learn anything about her disappearance as I asked you to, or did you just exacerbate this atrocious situation by adding yourselves to the extremely small number of people who know what's going on and who might accidentally reveal it to malevolent others?

FLEET: We have a lead. A dressmaker. We'll follow it up.

JULIUS: No you won't. Conditions have deteriorated, and I have somewhere else for you to go.

CLARA: I don't think us learning about the victim is really as big a problem as–

JULIUS: Miss Entwhistle. Have you heard the one about the magician?

FLEET: Julius!

CLARA: I don't think we have time for this, Mr Bell.

JULIUS: A magician goes out for dinner with his friend one evening. Part-way through the meal, his companion sees they are out of wine, and looks for a waiter. The magician says wait, watch this. He puts his hands in front of the empty bottle.

And he says, let's have another. And he slowly lifts up his hands. And as he does, his friend can see that the bottle is filling up. It's full below his hands and empty above, and as his hands reach the top, the bottle is full.

He fills their glasses and they both take a drink, and his friend can taste it's the same wine as the one they just drank, exactly the same. His friend says, "that's incredible, how did you do that?" And the magician says, "that's the easy bit". And the friend says, "alright, what's the hard bit?"

And the magician says "This." And then bang, his friend's head hits the table. He's dead. The magician walks away, and by the time anybody realises what's happened, he's nowhere to be seen.

PAUSE

CLARA: What kind of a joke is that?

JULIUS: Did I say it was a joke? The magician's name was Edouard Vidocq. He killed 9 people, and sent the city into a paralysis of fear.

FLEET: Twenty years ago. And he was hanged for it. So what?

JULIUS: So what, indeed. (RUSTLES PAPER) Ahem. "Inspector Fleet and Miss Entwhistle. Not a bad start to a disappearing act.

But do you know how to bring the lady back? I do. Vidocq."

FLEET: Vidocq is dead, Julius. He was hanged!

JULIUS: Yes. About that.

END