Shoreditch Police Station.
"This is a most tragic travesty of justice! A terrible transgression against my good name! Henry Gordon Jago is synonymous with saintly scruples, the very ideal of immaculate, incorruptible innocence and impeccable inculpability! "
"I've already apologised, Mr. Jago, both in a personal capacity and on behalf of Her Magisty's Constabulary. I've had a word with young Jenkins, he's new to the force, and a little too eager to please. He got a bit carried away, is all, and wasn't aware of your special relationship with our investigations."
"Damn cheek of him! Dashed impertinent. He'll be lucky if I never see him again. It's not just about me, you know... If the paying public find out I've been spending time behind bars, I'll never be able to pack the stalls again! I demand a full pardon, I expect exoneration quick, Er, Quick!"
"Calm down, please, Jago. You were never actually formally charged with anything. You're free to leave at your leisure."
"Can't say fairer than that, I suppose."
"Although I would like to ask a few questions about the disappearance of Ms. Jane Golightly. That was why you were in the alley, wasn't it? Tell me everything, from the beginning."
The Red Tavern.
"Arrested?! My word, Henry, you do have the most remarkably unfortunate incidences in my absence!"
"Oh, the indignity of it all, George! I was having flashbacks of our time on the run."
"Don't remind me! Still, you're back in the Red Tavern, safe and sound."
"Which is more than can be said for poor Jane..."
"Does Inspector Quick have any leads?"
"Not a sausage. The alley had only a single entrance, which I was blocking. It was too clear and bright for the cove to have hidden himself either. The only other thing of note was the statue."
"Ah yes, this mysterious angel. I suppose we could inspect it for clues. Have the police impounded it?"
"That's the queer thing, Professor. Bally thing has vanished!"
"How does a statue vanish? It certainly didn't fly away!"
"No idea, but by the time the cretinous constable had me in cast irons, it was nowhere to be found."
"Sounds like a case for us then. We can study this alleyway in the morning."
"Anything to get to the bottom of this rum affair. For Jane... I don't suppose you could do me a favour, George?"
"Anything, Henry."
"It's just, she had a very unique scar on her shoulder, like a cross. Apparently the barbaric fellow she was seeing at the time took a blade to her."
"Oh dear!"
"Horrible cove, he was. But if you could keep an eye out, in case anyone bearing a similar mark crosses your mortuary slab. Bit of a long shot, I know. I just feel so helpless. I should have accompanied her home."
"Jago, it's not your fault, you can't blame yourself. All we can do is try and get to the bottom of it."
"Thank you, Professor. I appreciate it."
"No trouble, old chap. It hardly seems worth mentioning, but a body bearing a scar of that description did cross my path today. But she could not have been your missing singer. This woman was seventy if she was a day old!"
"Dashed odd coincidence then."
"Curiously, it's not the first corpse I've seen today with an uncanny resemblance to a missing lady though. The first was an elderly woman with similarities to Mary Molone."
"Then it's certainly no coincidence at all. Some malevolent machinations are afoot!"
"Quick seems to think that these young women are being aged somehow!"
"Possible, I suppose. Wouldn't explain why Jane vanished from the alley though."
"I think it's a much more mundane explanation. Perhaps this is the work of a deranged Jack the Ripper type, mutilating elderly corpses to resemble missing girls?"
"I'd hardly call such a despicable scheme mundane, but maybe. Let's pick up this investigation in the morning, in any case. I think I need a rest after today."
"Agreeded."
"Would you two gents care for another round?"
"No thanks you, my dear. It's been a long day, I think I'll get an early night."
"Blimey! Is everything alright Mr. J? You don't seem like yourself. Oh, before you go, a package arrived 'ere for you two today."
"Really? From whom?"
"No idea, Professor. But the chap who dropped it 'ere said it was a 'message from the darkness'. I don't suppose it could be from, you know.."
"Professor Dark?"
"The Doctor!"
"Don't just stand there man, open it!"
"Oh."
"What is it?"
"A phonograph cylinder!"
"In which case, Jago, I'll meet you at the theatre tomorrow morning. We can play it on your phonograph device then."
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