1: Episode 3 - The Pleasure Coast

SCENE 1.

NARRATOR: In a city as vast and populous as Even Greater London, incredible, life-changing coincidences occur so regularly as to pass without comment. The celebrated socialite and occasional writer Michael Monkfish had once said that not only did he often believe six impossible things before breakfast, but if he went out for lunch, at least eleven of these would actually happen to him before he was offered a bread roll. So in all the impossible goings-on in the near-infinite cityscape, the current situation of Inspector Archibald Fleet and Clara Entwhistle might not rank all that highly. They had just seen the man Fleet had pursued after finding him breaking into a lodging house connected with the murdered scientist Dr Salik.

Distressingly, it seemed the man was a Beefeater, one of the feared and often sadistic Warders charged with protecting the electricity-beaming Tower Salik designed. Even more distressingly, Fleet and Clara had just learned that it was from this Tower that Salik had fallen to his death, only for someone to have moved his body to outside the tavern where they now were. Most distressingly of all, the Beefeater and his colleague had seen them too.

FLEET: Gentlemen! Pleasant day for a stroll, no?

RALGRIEVE: We'll ask the questions.

FLEET: Will you? We're a tad outside your operating radius here, aren't we?

RALGRIEVE: Close enough for it not to matter if we had a disagreement.

FLEET: Fortunately for you, then, I haven't a disagreeable bone in my body. But where are my manners. This is Miss Ent–

RALGRIEVE: Entwhistle, Clara. And you're Fleet. I'm Warder Ralgrieve and this is Warder Skern.

SKERN: Skern.

CLARA: What do you want?

FLEET: Clara–

RALGRIEVE: We want what you want. A tidy end to this Salik unpleasantness.

CLARA: The truth isn't always tidy, Mr Ralgrieve.

RALGRIEVE: That's Warder Ralgrieve to you, and who said anything about truth? I said "end".

CLARA: Well as Inspector Fleet has already mentioned, you don't have jurisdiction here.

FLEET: It's been a pleasure chatting with you, Warders, but we really should be–

RALGRIEVE: Good thinking Fleet. If you don't solve this case sharpish, you'll lose it. Isn't that right? And then it'll get handed over to a more effective law enforcement agency.

CLARA: Not if we pin you for stealing from Mrs Hampshire's!

FLEET: No, Clara! It's not the time!

RALGRIEVE: Not the time? For accusing honourable members of Her Majesty's Yeoman Guard Extraordinary of petty crimes? Is there a time for that, Fleet?

CLARA: You were there!

FLEET: She's a journalist, Ralgrieve, she sees connections when they're not there.

CLARA: How dare you! That's what you think of journalism? Many of our country's greatest–

FLEET: Not the time!

RALGRIEVE: I've had enough of this. Come on, you two. Let's take this somewhere we can have a chat in private.

CLARA: My pleasure!

FLEET: She doesn't mean that. (TO CLARA) Do you mean that?

CLARA: I do mean that!

RALGRIEVE: So we're agreed. Wonderful. Warder Skern, would you do the honours?

CLARA: What honours?

SKERN: Honours.

FLEET: No honours! We'll just follow you.

RALGRIEVE: Right this way.

SCENE 2.

F/X: Dungeon. Drips onto stone etc.

CLARA: I suppose when he said "chat in private", I imagined a nice coffee shop. Not so much a dungeon. But I think this works rather nicely into our investigation!

FLEET: How? We're locked underground in the Tower Compound. Probably exactly what those Beefeaters wanted.

CLARA: What are they? Are they police?

FLEET: Police enforce laws. The Warders are guards. When the Tower was built, the Government decided it needed the best possible protection. It was far more valuable than the crown jewels, and in any case those had been sold to help pay for the Tower, so the Warders moved here. They protect this Tower now, and, given its importance, that protection now includes investigating all criminal activity nearby. Although their methods are… different.

CLARA: So, what now?

FLEET: Well, we haven't broken any laws, we've just annoyed some Beefeaters. Not a bad day's work, really. Hopefully they'll come soon and start questioning us. Better to get it over with so we can get out of here. Better than the alternative, anyway.

CLARA: What alternative?

KELLER: (ENRAGED) Fleet!

FLEET: Chief Inspector Keller! So you heard about my being detained by the Yeomen Warders?

KELLER: No, pure coincidence Fleet, I'm afraid you've caught me on my daily perambulation around the Tower Compound, which we are all forbidden by an Act of Parliament from entering! Today I thought I'd take a little turn around the dungeons! (FURIOUS) Fancy seeing you here Fleet! What are the chances? Isn't life sometimes just a delight!

CLARA: I don't think there's any need for all that.

FLEET: Miss Entwhistle, please.

KELLER: Miss Entwhistle, is it? Just an unparalleled pleasure to meet you. Who the devil are you and why are you locked in a cell with one of my detectives?

CLARA: We're investigating the Salik murder.

KELLER: We, eh? Fascinating. Go on.

FLEET: Sir, we had a very minor run-in with two Warders.

CLARA: They were trying to intimidate us, with ravens!

KELLER: How dreadful. Have you alerted the appropriate authorities?

CLARA: No but we should!

FLEET: Sir–

KELLER: They are the appropriate authorities! And Fleet, even if you have somehow acquired a tourist–

CLARA: I am a journalist!

KELLER: My apologies, Miss. Fleet, even if you have somehow acquired a tourist with a notepad–

CLARA: How dare you!

KELLER: –you should have known better than to provoke the Warders.

FLEET: It's complicated, sir. The Warders are involved in the Salik murder somehow, I can feel it.

KELLER: Oh well, if you can feel it that's all right then. Don't forget to bring your feelings to the Old Bailey. You listen to me, Fleet. You're in very, very dangerous territory. We have no authority to investigate the Yeomen Warders; Chief Whitlock is a personal friend of the Home Secretary; and in any event the Warders are taking over the investigation. Your futile fracas with them gives Whitlock every justification to take command.

CLARA: They can't investigate themselves!

KELLER: They can and they will. Or won't. It's up to them really. Now, I've spoken to Whitlock and he's agreed to overlook this whole incident in the interests of maintaining a friendly spirit between our two organisations.

Miss Entwhistle was it? Pleasure to meet you. Goodbye, I hope, forever. And Fleet, before you head back to the Yard, the Chief Warder wants a word.

FLEET: Yes, sir.

KELLER: Be careful of Whitlock, Fleet. There's a reason he's got to where he is. And it's not that he remembers everyone's birthdays.

SCENE 3.

FLEET: I'm here to see Chief Warder Whitlock. He's expecting me.

BIRCH: Yes, Inspector Fleet, welcome. Did you have any trouble getting here?

FLEET: Not at all, I was abducted.

BIRCH: Splendid. The Chief Warder is just through here. Please spray this on yourself.

FLEET: What is it?

BIRCH: Repellant.

FLEET: And what are we repelling?

BIRCH: Oh, lots of things. You'll see.

FLEET: Alright.

F/X: Spray.

BIRCH: And would you like to wear one of these rain jackets?

FLEET: Would you recommend it?

BIRCH: Depends how you feel about the rain.

FLEET: I'll wear it. Where am I going, exactly?

BIRCH: Just through there. Push hard, it's heavy.

FLEET: Right. Thank you. (EXERTS HIMSELF)

F/X: Heavy metal door opens.

(EXERTS HIMSELF AGAIN)

F/X: Heavy metal door closes.

F/X: Rainforest sounds: stream, birds.

What on earth?

F/X: Frog croaks close by.

Ahh! It's a–

WHITLOCK: Rainforest, Inspector. A place of tranquility. An oasis in a desert of mad, desperate people, all pulling each other downwards.

FLEET: Chief Warder Whitlock.

WHITLOCK: At this location in the compound we are quite close to the Tower itself. The heat it gives off is quite astonishing. My predecessor had the foresight to build this little arboretum – it circles all the way around, absorbing the heat and channeling it into something useful, like these delightful Ceiba pentandra.

FLEET: Why did you want to see me?

WHITLOCK: To talk about this Salik mess, of course.

FLEET: Why he fell to his death from the Tower, you mean?

WHITLOCK: You're getting ahead of yourself, Inspector. Salik was here the day he died, it's true. But he left hours before you found him lying beaten outside that pub.

FLEET: He wasn't beaten, he fell.

WHITLOCK: Fell from that pub then.

FLEET: Maybe, or maybe not. What was he doing here?

WHITLOCK: He insisted on a visit, like some sort of dignitary. I met with him, we exchanged pleasantries, and then he left.

FLEET: Did he say where he was going?

WHITLOCK: You're not investigating this case anymore, Inspector. We are. I want to make sure you understand that.

FLEET: I'll be investigating this whether you let me or not. But I'm sure the Warders have no secrets.

PAUSE.

WHITLOCK: Let me tell you a story, Inspector. When I was a young man, I went exploring through the Malay jungles. I was with four compatriots from my school days: Skiffins, Woodler, Bashforth and Rupp. We were to be the first to navigate to the source of the Kinabatangan river.

For two weeks, far from any trail and even farther from any settlement, we pushed forward, forward into the jungle's darkness. Then, one morning, we woke to find Skiffins' tent empty, torn open, blood trailing from inside, past our own tents and beyond the trees. We followed that blood for half a mile before we found him. Mauled, half gone, and lying over a branch midway up a tree.

Suddenly, a terrifying sound. (GROWLS). The jungle panther. Woodler and Bashforth, they ran, while Rupp and I waited to hear from where the sound came.

Only the next sound was the screams of two men, the gargling of blood, and the chilling silence of death. The sound returned (GROWLS). Rupp and I stood still. He said “We can't outrun it, Whitlock.

And I won't let it catch me.” He took out his revolver, pressed it to his temple and fired. The gun – the only one we had – flew from his hand and down a steep bank. The sound was near now. (GROWLS).

I threw myself down the bank but I could not stop myself to find the gun. I slid down and down and fell into the river. I was swept for a mile, underwater half the time, I would surely drown soon. I saw a branch overhead, I reached and grasped it and hauled myself out onto the mud.

Then I heard it again. The animal had been following me. I was a distance ahead but not enough. Near-blind from the water, I started to run.

I ran and I ran and I ran. For 3 days and 3 nights it hunted me. On the fourth day, I was near death. I couldn't go on.

But something changed in me. I wasn't going to be hunted any more. I turned around and stared at the beast. It stopped.

It didn't understand. Prey doesn't turn around. Prey doesn't look you in the face. “You chase me, you track me, you take the lives of my brothers and toy with mine?

I am not prey,” I said to the beast. (SCREAMING) “I am the hunter! I am Man and your mighty rivers could not contain the blood we have spilled. Blessed be the Lord, who hath not given us as prey to their teeth.

(SPEAKING) Now jungle fiend, you are become prey. My prey. And my hunger grows.”

LONG PAUSE.

FLEET: You ate a panther?

WHITLOCK: Yes I did, but that's not the point. Prey doesn't look you in the face, Inspector. I can't be hunted, and neither can anyone in my pack. Do you understand me?

FLEET: I get your meaning.

WHITLOCK: Now if you don't mind I have better things to be doing than continuing to discuss the death of an ancient scientist who stopped being relevant the day the Tower was switched on. So I'm letting you go this time, if only so as to draw a line under this Salik tedium.

FLEET: They'll be no drawing of lines until I know what it is that one of your warders was doing at Mrs Hampshire's lodging house. Do you deny it?

WHITLOCK: No, Warder Ralgrieve was there. Come on out Ralgrieve. Fleet is curious about what you were doing breaking into the lodging house. Suspicious, wouldn't you say?

RALGRIEVE: Most suspicious.

WHITLOCK: Most suspicious.

FLEET: It is most suspicious!

RALGRIEVE: I was there because Salik asked us to help him retrieve his notebook. He'd received a ransom note just before visiting the Tower which told him to go to that lodging house.

FLEET: Why didn't he tell me?

WHITLOCK: Why would he? He had the Warders of the Tower at his service. He needed protection to go to such a dangerous event. Warder Ralgrieve offered to assist him.

RALGRIEVE: When he was killed, we decided to go to the meeting anyway to see if we could learn who had robbed him, thinking it might lead us to his killer.

WHITLOCK: Ralgrieve here was to take the element of surprise and break into the room at the appointed hour. Only, the room was empty, and then you appeared. And you gave chase.

FLEET: He was wearing a mask and breaking into a building, of course I gave chase!

WHITLOCK: Anyway you had your little scuffle and that led to where we are now.

FLEET: So you didn't retrieve Salik's notebook from the thief?

RALGRIEVE: You scared him off with your barging in, didn't you?

FLEET: You scared him off with your smashing in the window!

WHITLOCK: Enough! This is tiresome. Inspector, we have satisfied your curiosity but it's time for you to leave. I am a patient man.

I understand your tenacity. But if I hear that you've come near the Tower, or you've harassed my Warders, or you are in any way continuing to explore the death of Salik, I will have you bound and thrown to the ravens. Do I make myself clear?

FLEET: Perfectly.

WHITLOCK: Your journalist friend is waiting for you on the street. Ralgrieve, show the Inspector out.

FLEET: I can find my own way.

WHITLOCK: Come now, Inspector. Warder Ralgrieve is a fine man. I'm sure you'll get on like your house on fire.

SCENE 4.

NARRATOR: The Tower had become such a fixed part of the city's skyline that Fleet, like most Londoners, didn't really notice it anymore. But his proximity to it, as he was escorted through the Tower compound, made him feel as though he was seeing it for the first time, and it was a staggering sight. A sky-piercing vertical mile of pure, industrial majesty; a slender, smooth cylinder about the width of a church, with windows every 10 storeys or so. On the 70th floor, Fleet noticed, the windows shone with a slightly different hue – they had clearly been replaced more recently than the rest.

F/X: Heavy metal door shutting.

CLARA: Fleet, there you are. What did Whitlock say?

FLEET: That the Warders are just trying to help, and that they won't take too kindly to anyone but them investigating what happened to Salik.

CLARA: Do you believe them?

FLEET: About the last bit, yes.

CLARA: So what's our next move?

FLEET: Can I assume that whatever my next move is, you're likely to follow me?

CLARA: Yes.

FLEET: I suppose if I know where you are there's less chance of you causing trouble. How do you feel about a trip to the seaside?

CLARA: Excited! We could solve the murder and have an ice cream.

FLEET: Promise me you won't get us arrested this time.

CLARA: (LEAVING) I promise nothing!

SCENE 5.

NARRATOR: To the weary Even Greater Londoner, the city provided a variety of entertainments and distractions. The gambling man would make his wagers at the St Alban's Equine Electrovelodrome, taking into account the breeding of the stallions, the skill of the horse-cycle engineers, and the past performance of the jockeys in their critical task of controlling the beast and machine at speeds not particularly compatible with remaining conscious. Meanwhile, the learned gentlewoman might spend an hour choosing a few new audio cylinders to borrow from the Gloucester Librarium, a collection of all existing and possible works of fiction, organised by theme into three buildings with the names “Marriage”, “Murder” and, the largest by far, “Both”. But all Londoners agreed that when it came to restoring the soul with a spot of relaxation, there was no substitute for a visit to the Pleasure Coast.

The Pleasure Coast had come to Population Contentment Secretary Archaeopterus Blithe in a dream. How, he had wondered, could the surging population of Even Greater London be kept content? No single seaside town or beachfront would suffice. Instead, 114 miles of coastline would be given over solely to fun and enjoyment, from children shrieking with delight at the free extra scoop of ice cream given to them by an algorithmically whimsical service automaton, to couples enjoying an unnerving, but nevertheless romantic ride on a Ferris sphere.

When even this vast expanse of coastline struggled under the demand of London's sun-seeking crowds, the city simply expanded onto piers, a few at first, but soon hundreds, and extending further and further out into the sea until they found their natural limit, the warning fire of French gunboats.

F/X: Crowded pier. Amusements.

CLARA: So, you think someone on this pier might know who stole Salik's notebook?

FLEET: Yes. An old friend. Well, not so much 'friend'. But her information's kept her out of prison on a number of occasions.

CLARA: How will you find her?

FLEET: I don't know. Let's take a stroll.

PAUSE.

CLARA: Any brothers or sisters?

FLEET: Who? Salik?

CLARA: You!

FLEET: Oh. Why?

CLARA: I'm just interested! Or, tell me how you became a detective.

FLEET: I passed the exam.

CLARA: But what inspired you?

FLEET: I knew that if I passed the exam, I'd be a detective.

F/X: FORTUNE-TELLING MACHINES (AS REQUIRED):

MADAM FORTUNA (1): Know your fate.

(2): Cross my palm with silver and learn the secrets of your future.

(3): The mysteries of your destiny revealed.

(4): Will you find true love and contentment?

THESE UNDER:

CLARA: Well if you're not going to share facts then I will have to do so for the both of us. I'm from Yorkshire, I have a mother and a brother both living, one sister deceased and a father lost at sea. I have two birds, and once, when I was young, mother caught me reading a sensation novel and threatened to send me to the Mesmer Institute.

FLEET: Sorry, what is that noise?

CLARA: I think it's coming from these booths. "Madam Fortuna: Know your fate". Want a go?

FLEET: No, I bought a quilt of my horoscope so I'm all set.

CLARA: Pfft! Well then I will have a go!

F/X: Coin inserted. Automaton springs to life, speaking in recordings.

MADAM FORTUNA: (D) Look into my eyes child! Ah! I see a bright future, full of happiness. I see…

F/X: JARRING BEEPING NOISES

(WITHOUT ACCENT) If you want to hear more about your

future, please insert another three pence coin.

CLARA: Another! What a con!

FLEET: Hang on a minute. Do as it says.

CLARA: Why? It's nothing less than daylight robbery.

FLEET: Humour me.

F/X: Inserts another coin

MADAM FORTUNA: I see a tall dark stranger, and a long life if you follow these steps:

F/X: JARRING BEEPING NOISES

(WITHOUT ACCENT) If you want to hear more on how not to

die, please insert more coins.

FLEET: Very clever, very clever indeed! Now where is she?

CLARA: Where is who?

FLEET: Why Madam Fortuna of course.

CLARA: Another one? Are you holding out for a particular fortune? Are you lonely? Did you propose to someone, did they turn you down?

FLEET: Shhh! She must be around here somewhere… Ah! I have you now...

CLARA: Who? Oh no! Was the woman who jilted you a fortune teller? Are you cursed? Is that why you're so sad all the time?

FLEET: What are you talking about? I'm not sad all the time! Right, time to meet Madam Fortuna.

CLARA: That one's out of order. Look, the sign.

FLEET: Exactly. And yet a man was just using it. Bit odd, don't you think?

CLARA: Ooooh! A ruse!

FLEET: Let's go.

PAUSE.

F/X: KNOCKING ON GLASS.

FLEET: Hello Janet.

MADAM FORTUNA: I am Madam Fortuna, and I'm fresh out of fortunes for today. Goodbye.

FLEET: Your name is Janet Forton and you're a crook.

MADAM FORTUNA: (DROPPING ACCENT) Inspector! Didn't recognise you at first.

FLEET: Mm hmm.

MADAM FORTUNA: What a pleasure!

FLEET: I'm sure. I need some information.

MADAM FORTUNA: What? No pleasantries? “You're looking well Janet, how's the family?”

FLEET: Your family are all in prison, convicted on your testimony!

MADAM FORTUNA: They had it coming, the snakes.

FLEET: And I see you've added selling quack fortunes to your repertoire of cons.

MADAM FORTUNA: Not a con if people know they're fake. Just a bit of fun at the seaside. People love it! You seen all the Madam Fortuna machines I've had to make to keep up with demand? Nothing criminal about that.

FLEET: In which case I'm sure you won't mind me taking a look at the package that man just left with you. Weekly groceries, was it?

MADAM FORTUNA: Inspector, what is this? We're friends of old!

FLEET: And friends often help friends with information, don't they?

MADAM FORTUNA: Alright. But let's go somewhere more discreet. I know the perfect place.

SCENE 6.

NARRATOR: The Pleasure Coast is perhaps best understood through its most popular offering: the countless smoky, dingy Stickleball parlours. Stickleball was played like this. The player or 'Tent' sits at a stickleball machine, alongside dozens of other such machines and players. Having made their wager in the form of a donation when entering the building, and receiving a basket of tokens in return, the tent would place a token into the Stickleball machine and pull the game lever.

At this point, thirty six short wooden rods would begin tumbling from the top of the machine, knocked about, spun around, shot back upwards and occasionally incinerated by an intricate layout of pins, shelves, paddles and spinning, flaming semi-circles. Flashing lights across the machine indicated facts about the location and orientation of the rods, the time since the round began, the weather in Hastings, and partial information about the rods being played by the person sat next to you, whose winnings would be shared by you if your rods match their paddles at the end of the game or the beginning of the quarter-hour. The object of Stickleball was to have fewer vertical rods than horizontal, or exactly as many severed as varnished, when they are all caught by the sprung traps or 'claws' at the base of the machine. In the event of a tie, the player can add another token to continue, as they can in the event of winning or losing, or the uncommon but spectacular fourth possible outcome.

Like so much else at the Pleasure Coast, Stickleball was a masterpiece in human sensory bafflement. Outside of its entertainment value, its popularity came from the fact that the odds were very slightly in the customer's favour. The house recouped these losses partly in the form of smelling salts to calm the player's nerves after a narrow victory or extended double-rake; but mostly from having punters walk out happily with their winnings and charging a commission to the pickpockets who would rob them within seconds. The Stickleball parlours were some of the busiest and noisiest places in the whole Pleasure Coast, and for this reason presented the perfect meeting place for holding private conversations.

F/X: Background noise of a stickleball parlour

JANET: So. How can I be of service?

CLARA: We're looking for a pickpocket.

JANET: Take a walk on the pier dressed as you are. They'll find you.

FLEET: A specific pickpocket.

JANET: They're all specific once you get to know them! They're human beings, Inspector.

FLEET: What about a pickpocket skilled enough to pick a man's pocket inside his own home? The home of Dr Salik, who was murdered shortly after.

JANET: Murdered? No, no, I don't know anything about no murder.

CLARA: Yes, but you do know something don't you? When the Inspector mentioned Salik's name, you winced.

JANET: Clever girl, I could do with you at an upcoming whist tournament which I'm ….

FLEET: Which you're?

JANET: Not involved in in any way, forget I mentioned it.

FLEET: I'll forget you mentioned it when you tell us what you know.

JANET: I didn't have anything to do with killing him Fleet! I only work in purses and jewels, you know that!

CLARA: But you do know who robbed him?

FLEET: Come clean Janet, if you don't cooperate and are in any way implicated in Salik's death, I doubt they'll spare you the gallows this time.

JANET: I swear I didn't even know he was dead! All I know is a gentleman came to my booth, said he'd been given my name as someone who knew how to procure things.

FLEET: Who was he?

JANET: I don't ask names, and I never saw his face. All I had to do was to steal whatever could be found in Dr Salik's breast pocket.

CLARA: So you robbed him?

JANET: Nah. I like to sub-contract. Give something back.

FLEET: How very public spirited of you.

JANET: But I never found out what it was that had been stolen.

CLARA: Your man didn't come back?

JANET: Well, the first one – Harry – I sent to the Carstol docks, to intercept him as he arrived.

FLEET: Yes, we met. Fisherman-type.

JANET: Did he do his fisherman? I love that. "Oh, Agatha!" Used to be an actor, so talented, you really believe he is who he's being. Anyway next thing I know he's in handcuffs in a hospital with an armed guard!

FLEET: Salik electrocuted him.

JANET: Poor Harry. Well, prison'll give him a chance to do his one man Faustus. Oh it's haunting, Inspector. Haunting.

CLARA: So what about the other one? You said you sent more than one?

JANET: Oh yeah. Well, Salik made it back to his house, and he clearly couldn't be confronted in public or when he was aware. I needed special help. So I called in a few favours and got an introduction.

CLARA: Introduction to whom?

JANET: The only one that counts. El Fantasma.

F/X: Classical spanish guitar.

CLARA: Who?

FLEET: He's not real.

JANET: He is.

FLEET: You saw him?

JANET: Not his face, but we met. He liked the idea of the challenge.

CLARA: So this Fantasma, he's a famous thief?

FLEET: He's a myth. Thieves' fairy tale.

JANET: I heard he once stole a man's shirt from his body, without taking off the jacket!

CLARA: So this Fantasma went to rob Salik? But didn't come back?

JANET: Wasn't at the rendezvous. Probably decided to sell it to a higher bidder. But he did return the advance fee I paid him. I found it in me turban. (PAUSE) But how?

FLEET: And the person who engaged your services?

JANET: Haven't heard from him since.

FLEET: And El Fantasma? Can you arrange an introduction?

JANET: The introduction's already been made.

FLEET: What are you talking about?

JANET: Check your pocket.

FLEET: An appointment card, just like the one Salik had!

JANET: Oh good, there is a card. I was just guessing. But amazing isn't he. Oh I see your other friend is here again.

FLEET: Other friend?

JANET: Yeah, the one you've had following us since the pier. Worried I'd give you the slip?

FLEET: No. There's no one, who are you talking about…

CLARA: (GASPS)

FLEET: What is it?

CLARA: It's that Warder from the tower….

FLEET: Ralgrieve.

JANET: You're being followed by a Warder?

CLARA: Why would he follow us out here? And out of uniform?

FLEET: I can't think of a good reason. Only awful reasons.

JANET: Well look, don't take this personal, but I'm gonna ditch you, because it looks like you're gonna get murdered.

CLARA: Murdered?

FLEET: Janet!

JANET: Oh people never like the bad fortunes do they? (LEAVING) Good luck Inspector, pleasure as always and all that.

FLEET: Come on, let's get out of here, before he spots us.

SCENE 7.

F/X: Pier. Crowds.

CLARA: So when's the meeting with El Fantasma?

FLEET: The card says "dusk". You'd think he could choose an actual time, but–

CLARA: Does it say where? No, there's just pictures of tents. Tents?

FLEET: An encampment.

CLARA: What does that mean?

FLEET: The Brunelians.

SCENE 8.

NARRATOR: The Brunelians, of course, were the immense workforce of Chief Engineer of the Empire Isambard Kingdom Brunel. Wherever one turned in Even Greater London one was always confronted with some gargantuan structure of Brunel's design - such was his drive and passion for urban development, and after the building of the Tower, the possibilities for such development seemed to Brunel to be limitless. And with every new project, Brunel's workforce grew. Engineers, builders, metalworkers, pipe-fitters, navvies, and tradesmen of all other kinds were drawn to his projects.

Eventually there were so many he had to split them into divisions, and appoint subordinates to lead each division with day-to-day autonomy but still under Brunel's leadership and guidance about the common end. The workers were highly trained, intensely focused and their loyalty to Brunel was absolute. What Brunel had was, in fact, an army, and it was to the great relief of the general public that Brunel's ambitions never went any higher than building yet more bridges, tunnels and train tracks. Occasionally there were rumours of Brunel being seen wearing a purple toga, but this was never confirmed by anyone worth mentioning.

After a while the Brunelians became something of a natural force of the London landscape. You would never know that they were coming – they were too organic to predict, too fast to track, too large to reason with, and quite understandably they didn't hold themselves subject to any planning processes. You would leave for work one morning, and when you returned you would find your house underneath a viaduct stretching into the distance in either direction, criss-crossing the mesh of bridges and towers already making the horizon something people went to the seaside to remind themselves of.

Building site at dusk.

F/X: Wind, creaking constructions.

CLARA: How are we ever going to find El Fantasma in this place? It's immense! What do you think it is they are building? It looks like a viaduct, but it's not clear to what.

FLEET: Oh they won't let that slow them down. If Brunel thinks this is a good spot for a viaduct, another team will be here next week to build the train line either side. Then it definitely will be a good place for a viaduct. Otherwise there'll just be train tracks with a gap where a viaduct should be. Can't have that.

CLARA: Fleet, look!

FLEET: Where?

CLARA: Don't look!

FLEET: What?

CLARA: He's behind us. Just tie your shoelace or something and take a peek. It's the Warder.

FLEET: What? Oh you're right. Damn it. We've got to lose him. I'll lead him away and give him the slip. Try and find El Fantasma.

CLARA: How?

FLEET: Surely you're not short of an idea? I'm so sorry I can't stay around to enjoy this. (SHOUTING) Warder! I'm just off for a quick jog through the building works!

Won't you join me? (SPEAKING) Oh god it worked. Bye.

F/X: Running.

CLARA: That's fine. I'll just stay here and enjoy this building site.

PAUSE

F/X: Clatter.

Hello?

PAUSE

F/X: Whisper. Clatter.

Who's there? You might as well show yourself. I've heard you

coming.

EL FANTASMA: (OFF) No you didn't. I've been here a little while. Sometimes I have to make a racket to give people a sporting chance.

CLARA: So. El Fantasma. Come on, where are you?

EL FANTASMA: (CLOSE) Right beside you.

CLARA: (SHRIEKS)

EL FANTASMA: You are in no physical danger, miss. I am only a thief.

CLARA: I've heard you can steal anything. Is this true?

EL FANTASMA: Is it true? Young miss, I have stolen papers from the cabinet secretary's briefcase as he walked surrounded by a guard of eight men. I took the d'Enfant necklace from around the neck of the grand opera madame Chenous while she was on stage, mid-aria. And whilst we've been talking I've taken the liberty of relieving you of your bracelet ...

CLARA: Hey!

EL FANTASMA: … your pendant …

CLARA: Give me that.

EL FANTASMA: And this delightful broach.

CLARA: I wasn't wearing a broach.

EL FANTASMA: No, but it would look mucho más bonito on you than the woman I took it from. The princess of Hanover.

CLARA: I don't want that.

EL FANTASMA: As entertaining as it is to list my achievements, I think we should get on with discussing what you're really after. The notebook of Dr Salik.

CLARA: How did you know that?

EL FANTASMA: I found this appointment card in your jacket just now when I handed you your bracelet back.

CLARA: Stop doing that!

EL FANTASMA: I gave this card to the doctor when I took his notebook. Moreover, I saw you at the boarding house when the doctor and I were due to meet, asking questions with your detective friend.

CLARA: You were there?

EL FANTASMA: I was observing from a distance. The notebook is clearly too valuable for me to have simply traded it to Janet Forton, and I was going to offer the doctor a chance to buy it back. But he never appeared. Instead, a journalist, a detective and a Yeoman Warder.

Not my usual crowd, you understand, and now it seems the doctor is deceased. So here I am. A highly valuable notebook, no suitable client to sell it to and no victim to whom to ransom it back. What a terrible waste.

Perhaps I shall simply burn it.

CLARA: Give it to me!

EL FANTASMA: Why?

CLARA: To help us understand what happened to Salik. Perhaps it contained valuable information. Perhaps the Warders wanted that information and he wouldn't share it. I don't know, but it is the only lead we have.

EL FANTASMA: Well if that is true then I'm afraid you have no lead at all. Because the whole thing is written in a code even I cannot solve.

CLARA: Do you solve any codes?

EL FANTASMA: No. No, you're quite right. The whole thing is written in a code, and I cannot solve any codes.

CLARA: Then let me try. Give me the notebook.

EL FANTASMA: Why do you care about Dr Salik so much?

CLARA: He was murdered. Somebody should.

SCENE 9.

NARRATOR: Meanwhile, Fleet had been leading Warder Ralgrieve deeper into the Brunel encampment. This had gone entirely to plan. Just not Fleet's plan.

FLEET: I'm trapped.

NARRATOR: Fleet was indeed trapped, high, high up on a half-built construction that might the next day be a bridge, but that night was empty, the workers having retired to their camp to rest, gamble and sing bawdy songs about Brunel. Fleet had crossed a beam hoping to find a way down, but none was to be found, and the Warder made his approach.

FLEET: Damn it, there's no way down from here. (SEARCHING) Umm–

RALGRIEVE: (SHOUTING) Fleet!

FLEET: Stop right there, Ralgrieve!

RALGRIEVE: Fleet, I'm coming across.

FLEET: Stay back! (THROWS SOMETHING)

F/X: Thud/clatter

RALGRIEVE: Hey!