Gaslight

Help!

Help! Police!

Help!

Don't see no one

taking that house yet awhile.

Nor me.

Blimey, it works.

Nancy, hurry. Hurry!

They're coming along now.

I saw the cab down the square.

Go on. Give me the duster.

- Good afternoon, Nancy.

- Good afternoon, ma'am.

- Good afternoon, sir.

- Good afternoon.

What a beautiful voice he has,

hasn't he?

Those are the Mallens

from Number 12.

- Yes. I thought we might call on them.

- Not in London. It wouldn't be correct.

- Oh, but...

- My dear, I said no.

Only two maids.

- I hear he's a foreigner.

- But he looks most respectable.

Come on, Cobb.

All right behind?

- Seen Mr Rough, John?

- Over there, with Hannibal.

Excuse me, sir, the message from the vet

about the mare. He says...

You all right, sir?

- I've seen a ghost, Cobb.

- What, here, sir?

The ghost of a man out of my past.

Oh, you mean when you were

in the police force, sir.

Most of my ghosts are criminals,

but this one wasn't.

I know the story

of the house he lives in.

I was on a case there once,

when I was a young peeler.

Louis Bauer!

The nephew of old Alice Barlow

that was murdered 20 years ago.

Louis Bauer.

A foreigner he was,

and very cut up, I remember.

Funny he should come back to 12

Pimlico Square after all these years.

12 Pimlico Square

is Mr Mallen's house, sir.

Nonsense. Louis Bauer.

Right face, right house.

- No, you're wrong, sir.

- Impossible.

What do you know about it, anyway?

It's the parlour maid, sir.

You see, she's a friend of mine.

The family's name is Mallen.

- And they live at Number 12?

- Yes, sir.

Leastways, part of it.

Nancy says they don't use

the top two storeys.

A bit queer, Nancy says.

It means less dusting for her, though.

Mrs Mallen's queer, too.

Queer, is she? Mm...

In what way?

Well, she's sort of odd in her mind.

She does strange things.

Nancy says Mr Mallen gets very upset.

He goes out every night.

- It's a very queer place.

- Yes, it does sound queer.

I want you to see

as much of her as you can.

- What, the mare, sir?

- No, no, your Nancy.

Oh, she's not mine. I'm only one

of the pebbles on the beach.

Well, you play up to her.

I want to know everything that goes on.

I believe I'm going to be

very interested in Number 12.

A dirty evening for a stroll, sir.

There's a lot of dirty

things in London.

- Bella, what are you doing?

- Nothing, Paul. Don't wake up.

- What are you doing, Bella?

- I thought I heard the muffin man.

Then why didn't you ring for Nancy

to find out?

- It would mean two journeys for her...

- Ring for Nancy, Bella.

What do you suppose

the servants are for?

To serve us, I suppose, dear.

Nancy, I rang. The muffin man.

Oh, I thought you rang for tea, ma'am.

I was just bringing it up.

Then it's too late for muffins.

Not at all, my dear, not at all.

Nancy, spread the cloth,

then lay the tea things,

go down and get the muffins,

cook the muffins,

and bring up the muffins.

You see, my dear,

it's all quite simple.

- Light the gas, Nancy.

- Yes, sir.

You're looking very impudent

and pretty tonight, Nancy.

- More broken hearts?

- I don't know, I'm sure, sir.

Where do you get

the colour for your cheeks, Nancy?

Could you not give the recipe

to Mrs Mallen?

Oh no, sir. I'm natural.

- Will that be all you're wanting, sir?

- Yes, Nancy. That'll do for the present.

Paul, as though I'd do anything to my

face, or ask for her assistance if I did.

Oh, Bella,

I was only trifling with her.

It's so humiliating for me.

- That girl laughs at me enough, as it is.

- Nonsense, Bella.

You know perfectly well

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