The Shadow in the North

Someone in the forest.

Blood on the snow.

He's still there, all in a glass coffin.

Bells, bells...

the Bellmann.

There's a shadow in the north.

The actress and a vicar.

Pity he's not a bishop, the best

man's speech could've been a riot.

It'll be you and Sally next.

Ah. Perhaps you should

tell her that, Jim.

It's not me that's in love with her.

She'll never marry me.

She's said so often enough.

She don't know her own mind,

mate, that's her problem.

Oh, I think her mind is

one thing she knows pretty well.

Ah. How are you, Sally?

Rosemary and I hardly see you any more.

You know how a new business is.

You hardly have a moment

to think of anything else.

Stocks and shares, investment and

dividends, I don't know how you do it.

Playing the stock

market is the easy part.

The problem is persuading people a young

woman can handle their money safely.

That reminds me. I have a

small inheritance due on my marriage.

Rosa and I would very much

like you to invest the capital for us.

And I shall make it my business

to tell each of my parishioners

that Sally Lockhart

made me a wealthy man.

How privileged we are, Nicholas.

Two of the country's finest

photographers

compiling our wedding album.

Naturally for my favourite niece

the job will be free gratis.

Of course, I taught Frederick

everything he knows

but now he wants to be

a detective with Jim.

I'm very good, I know.

There's the great Webster Garland

that has half of fashionable London

beating a path to our door.

Catch.

Aren't you supposed to let

one of the bridesmaids catch that?

Seeing as you're the only one in sight,

I didn't think there was much point.

I never said I was against marriage.

I merely said I was against it for me.

Chaka!

What have you been doing, boy?

Digesting the postman. I swear

that dog means more to you than me.

Are you surprised?

He's far better-looking,

and more obedient.

Come on, boy. Time to go.

- Where are you going?

- I have to see a client.

On my sister's wedding day?

I've already apologised to Rosa.

It simply couldn't be put off.

You might as well take this with you.

Until recently, Miss Lockhart,

I had every hope of living out

my retirement in modest comfort.

Now I find myself

on the brink of poverty.

I am sorry to hear that, Miss Walsh.

Last year, on your recommendation,

I invested over 3,000

in the shipping company Anglo-Baltic.

Anglo-Baltic?

It collapsed after the Ingrid Lind.

Exactly.

The Ingrid Lind disappeared

three days into her maiden voyage

and Anglo-Baltic was owned

by a businessman named Axel Bellmann.

After the loss of the Ingrid Lind

he declared the company bankrupt

and walked away,

leaving his shareholders penniless.

Since then, he has formed

a new company called North Star Castings

and carried on

as though nothing happened.

In law, he did nothing wrong,

Miss Walsh.

His new company is not responsible

for the debts of his old one.

There were suspicious circumstances

in the sinking of the Ingrid Lind.

Lloyd's of London refused to pay out.

But no-one will say why.

My little sister a married woman.

Are you happy?

Ridiculously.

He's a very good man.

And for a clergyman

he packs a remarkably fine right hock.

Don't give up on Sally, you know.

She does love you,

only she doesn't know it yet.

My losses had nothing

to do with bad luck.

They are due to immorality and fraud.

Well then, I think it's time Mr Bellmann

answered a few of our questions.

If you're right, I promise I shall

get every penny of your money back.

Be careful, Miss Lockhart,

I don't much care for idle promises.

You have lost your savings, Miss Walsh,

but my reputation is also at stake.

When someone comes to me for advice,

I don't find it acceptable

that I should lose their money for them.

Whatever it is, I haven't time.

I was wondering

if you'd read my new play.

I'd stick to the detective writing

if I were you. Five minutes, everyone!

...Leave writing to the professionals.

What's wrong with it?

Too fantastical.

Blood-sucking warehouse men,

barges full of corpses.

Remember, everybody, loud and faster.

- The public isn't interested.

- You just missed the good bits.

No future in vampire stories.

Well, thanks anyway, Mr Stoker.

You know your way around.

Do me a favour.

Give MacKinnon his five-minute call.

- MacKinnon?

- Magician,

calls himself the Wizard Of The North.

Five minutes.

Five minutes, Mr MacKinnon.

I'm ready. Now.

Thank you.

And fire!

You seriously suppose

that the hand of mere man

can kill the immortal

Wizard Of The North?

Fire, I say.

Did you see?

Thank you.

Those men are trying to kill me.

For God's sake,

help me get away from here.

You come off this side.

I'll be waiting.

Quick. Up there.

I'm frightened of heights.

If you want to get out of here

in one piece, the only way is up.

Up there.

We can get out over the roof.

Listen, mate. It's your choice.

It's this or your friends downstairs.

Look lively.

You say these men want to kill you,

Mr MacKinnon. Why?

Because I am a witness to murder.

Then why not go to the police?

I did not witness a crime in

any way the police would understand.

What do you know of spiritualism?

Odd you should mention that.

Jim had a client only the other day

asking him to look

into some sort of spiritualist affair.

A fraudulent medium named Nellie Budd.

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