03x01 - No Friends Like Old Friends

[bunniefuu]

Frankie! Wait up!

Come on, Louise! Let's see what these bikes can do!

I'm gaining on you!

Oh no, you're not!

Oh, this is just like old times!

Minus the enemy fire! Yeah.

Where are you going so fast?

Told you being a blonde would cause a stir.

Maybe that was for you.

You don't ride as fast as you did in the w*r, Frankie.

You tend to speed a little bit more when there's b*ll*ts flying past your head.

Feels like a lifetime ago. It was.

I know it sounds ridiculous but the w*r?

At least it was exhilarating, now...

Married life a bit dull?

A bit.

It happened quickly. I met James just after Daddy d*ed.

And presto: Louise Farr is Louise Barton.

Seemed time to grow up.

You still feel that way?

I've missed you, Frankie.

The things we got up to back then.

No friends like old friends.

Don't you need to get back home?

Give me five more minutes in the past.

Before you sail, there's someone I want you to meet Saturday at the Savoy. Of course. I would love to.

You decided to return. Hello, darling. This is Frankie Drake, the wartime friend I told you about.

Good afternoon, Miss Drake.

Louise, may I have a word?

See you Saturday. No excuses.

Lunch at the Savoy. I wouldn't miss it.

You looking for someone?

No. Oh, that's a shame.

Ha!

Excuse me?

Thank you.

Cap?

Captain Morrison?

Frankie.

Is it really you? Last I checked.

Your hair!

It's very striking.

I must say, you hear stories of chance encounters, but I...

What are you doing here?

I, uh... I'm visiting some old friends.

I'm here to meet Louise, actually.

You remember her? Of course.

You're not wearing your medals the king will be disappointed. Still the same old Frankie.

Will you have time for a drink sometime?

Sure. Shall we meet back here?

Uhhh... not here.

Where are you staying?

The Salisbury.

Our old hotel. Is Stan still the bartender?

He still pours a mean martini.

Well, we can catch up properly, toast old times. I'd like that.

If I'm interrupting something, I could leave.

I'll see you later, Frankie.

You must be the famous Frankie Drake Louise told me about.

Do you want me to fetch him back for you?

Oh, no, no, it's fine. Is Louise with you?

No. She said she'd pick me up over an hour ago.

But, uh, she didn't, so I thought I'd find her here.

This, uh... this came in the post this morning.

And Louise would never dream of missing a lunch at the Savoy.

Especially on me. Hmm!

"I'll pick you up at 11 a.m. tomorrow; lunch on your tab."

Why don't we check with the concierge? Maybe she left word.

Oh, I did. She didn't. Something's wrong.

I think you're jumping to conclusions.

Lou never doesn't do what she says she's going to.

You must know that.

Now, come on. Where are we going?

Well, you're the private detective, you tell me.

Consider yourself hired.

Looking for a friend who's late for a lunch date doesn't seem like much of a case.

And you don't seem much of a detective if you'd turn down a commission.

Fine. Mrs...?

Christie, Agatha Christie.

Do you know Louise's husband? Ah, just socially.

My husband, Archie, was lobbying James for a position in the city.

It didn't pan out, but Louise and I hit it off.

Do they have a good marriage? I believe so.

The girl's charming, but, uh, not domestic.

Never could get the hang of poaching a fish, but I doubt she lost much sleep over it.

That'll be fine. Ladies...

James, how are you? A word?

Of course.

Now, have you seen Louise? She was to join us at lunch today, but it appears she has vanished.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Christie, but there's no mystery to be had here.

My wife's on one of her walkabouts.

What do you mean? Louise needs time on her own.

It's something I accommodate. She walks, I golf.

You seemed upset with Louise the other day; did you two have a fight?

Well, that's really none of your business.

You hiding something, James?

I expected her to join me at the annual Chamber of Commerce dinner, and she refused to change her plans.

Annoying. Not having your wife at your side.

Bloody embarrassing.

But save your suspicions for one of your books.

My wife's on a walkabout.

To places unknown. Miss Drake, they're not unknown to her.

He's lying.

What decent husband doesn't know where his wife is?

I think he had something to do with this, don't you think?

I don't know yet.

Well, if this was one of my books, he would certainly be a suspect.

I'll contact you the minute I have anything.

Don't you want me along?

I do have some experience in detecting.

This isn't one of your mystery novels, Agatha.

Louise is my friend too, and, as your employer, I must insist. Fine, but you follow my lead.

Of course. What first?

I need to send a telegram.

Oh.

Just grab whatever you can find, Mary!

We're out of buckets! Frankie didn't need to go to England, it's Piccadilly Circus right here.

When is the plumber coming?

The landlord said he was on his way.

Remind me again why you didn't wait for him in the first place instead of trying to fix it yourself? Well, the pipe's been leaking for weeks, and it was driving Frankie nuts.

I thought it'd be an easy fix.

Oh, Trudy!

I'm really sorry, but - uh -

I've got work early in the morning, I should get going. Me too. I've got corpses stacked up.

Not actually stacked, but... you know.

When is Frankie coming back? She's been delayed.

Telegram didn't say.

Oh, no. You must be joking.

What else is gonna go wrong in this place?

Trudy, a building's like a human body: you shouldn't cut into it unless you know what you're doing.

Come on.

Sorry, Trudy.

Flo, wait up!

What? Who the heck's been messing about with my...?

Frankie Drake? Holy snakes!

Ruby Weston.

It is so good to see you. So, this... this is your place?

Spent all that time fixing our bikes back then, about time I got paid. What are you doing here?

Wait, don't tell me.

The good Captain Morrison finally left his wife? Hahahaha!

Did you hear, he got a knighthood?

"Wartime Service to the Realm" or something.

Is this the man you met at the Savoy?

I knew there was something between you.

Ha! Morrison was our boss in Signal Corps; used to call him Cap.

He and Frankie used to do a little... Ruby, Ruby...

You know what I'm saying. Who's your...? But anyway, it was all very hush-hush.

At least they thought so. So who are you?

Ruby, this is Agatha Christie. She's a friend of Louise Barton.

"Agatha Christie"? Writer Agatha Christie?

I just read your book! The Secret Adversary.

Bang up job! Oh, well, thank you.

Are you gonna bring that foreign bloke back:

Poirot something? I don't know. I mean, I don't know about writing another book.

Are you kidding? You're the best thing since Sherlock! Take my word! Oh, well...

You need inspiration, just get Frankie talking.

She got up to all sorts during the w*r.

We're looking for Louise. Have you seen her?

Not in ages.

She used to come in to get her bike fixed after the w*r, then she pretty much cut me off.

Always had a bit of a loner streak.

So we're learning.

Her husband says that she likes to go walking?

Sounds right.

I went with her once when we were on leave.

She did like this one place.

Where? Um... couldn't tell you.

Just farmer's fields and hedgerows.

We took the bus from Kew to get there.

We stayed in a hotel. Remember the name?

Uh... Duck... goose, name of some kind of bird.

Your building owner can expect a visit from the municipal inspector tomorrow. Really?

Send him a bill for your time. He'll pay?

If he knows what's good for him.

Haha!

Where'd you learn how to do plumbing anyway?

Ah, well, I'm not just a pretty face, you know?

My dad wasn't around a lot, so I had to learn to do a lot of things. Hm. Well, Frankie will never be able to tell anything was amiss.

So maybe you have a little time to see me?

I'll always have time to see you.

Well, in that case, I have two tickets for the Toronto Maple Leafs on Saturday.

Great! I love baseball!

Hm! Anyway, I should be getting back.

Really? So all three of you were dispatch riders?

We helped win the w*r by delivering memorandums.

Did you ever do more than that?

Did you ever go behind enemy lines?

When called for. You served?

I was a nurse.

So you saw the results of it all.

Nothing prepares you for what men are capable of doing to one another.

Hotel receptionists aren't always cooperative, I might need your help. Do you trust me?

Good day.

I'm just hopelessly lost.

If you could just tell me exactly where we are.

I'm looking for the ruins of Lesnes Abbey.

Do you know it? I know it's around here somewhere.

Ah! Thank you.

Yes, a friend of mine was on a hiking trip, and she's been to this place already, but tosh.

She said it rained a lot.

But then, it was her first time in England so, um...

Who are you?

I'm a friend of Louise Barton's.

This is her room, isn't it? I'm not at liberty to say.

Surely, you can help me out.

Agatha, I told you to wait outside.

What? And miss the detecting part?

Looks like someone put up quite a fight.

According to the maid, she saw a man carry a woman down the backstairs last night.

He put her in a local taxi. The driver's name was Ben.

She didn't think to report it? She did.

The manager told her not to pry into other people's affairs.

Do we have a description of her abductor?

Nothing useful. But apparently the woman looked "poorly."

Well, that's not good.

What's that?

I think it's Louise's sketchbook.

Hmm. Ah.

Ah.

These are disturbing. I didn't know she drew.

She did a bit during the w*r, as well.

Just portraits and odd things, nothing quite like that.

Seems the work of a... haunted soul. Not the Louise I know.

Nor I.

You sure this is it?

Uh, it's where I was told to drop the lady, yeah.

Did you get a good look at the man, Ben?

Ah, now he wore a hat. Oh, and a big coat.

Most helpful.

If this were my mystery, our man Ben would have given us something useful. If the man had a scar for example, or perhaps a limp. What kind of nursing home is this?

The kind where husbands deposit unruly wives for a "rest."

Which means we will not be welcome guests.

Oh, considerate of said husbands to buy flowers for their incarcerated wives.

Isn't it just.

Flowers for Louise Barton. Second door on the right.

And keep it down, she needs complete rest.

Louise?

Louise! Are you alright?

Frankie.

Frankie. She's been sedated.

Very good. Talk to her. Try to keep her awake.

Louise, it's Frankie. Agatha's here too.

Who put you here?

He did. Who? Who did?

My husband.

James did this to you?

Dilated pupils, rapid heartbeat, comatose state.

I think it's more than sedation.

Ah! See here!

It's a puncture wound. I think she's been poisoned.

Are you sure it's poison?

I trained as a dispenser at the hospital.

While I was studying, I took a particular interest in deadly symptoms of poisons. You did, did you?

Well, they're indispensable to a mystery writer.

Do you have any idea what it is?

Not yet.

What are you doing in here?!

Our friend is very ill, she needs to see a doctor.

A doctor has seen Mrs. Barton and I assure you she is being treated accordingly. Doesn't look that way to me.

Now, what has she been given?

Does Mrs. Barton's husband know you're here?

Please excuse my friend; she's a little hysterical.

I will show you hysterical. I'm sure you're taking excellent care of her. It is critical that we maintain an atmosphere of calm for our patients.

If I see your friend here again, she will be removed immediately.

Understood.

What do you think you're doing?!

Getting us out of here before they call the authorities.

Let them call if they are poisoning her!

We don't know that for certain. And if she is here at her husband's request, then the authorities will do precisely nothing.

Where are we going? To find out what James knows.

Why would James want to poison his wife?

Well, maybe he's tired of being embarrassed.

So, what am I doing?

You are the nurse, find out what they were giving her.

What if James won't talk to you?

He will.

"Bank of Toronto."

Atropa belladonna, native to parts of Asia and Europe, sometimes known as deadly nightshade. Our poison?

Symptoms are hard to detect, but if left untreated, she will die. So she could have been poisoned at the Old Swan Inn. It would look like she was suffering from a mental collapse, which would make it easy for her to be admitted to the home.

Where her body would continue to absorb the poison until...

She dies an apparently natural death, no one the wiser. An insidious way to k*ll off poor Louise. Well, tell me you have the antidote. That's the good news.

Operator? Overseas telegraph, please.

Yes, hello. I'm ready. "Miss Trudy Clark, "0-1-4-7-0.

"Bank of Toronto, box 638.

"Need to know contents and owner.

All help appreciated." Thank you.

I visited many of the world's great cities;

Toronto is not one of them. You've been?

On the Empire World Tour with Archie.

We weren't there very long, thankfully.

Nothing but churches and squealing pigs.

Terribly dull. Visit again.

I'll take you for a spin around Frankie Drake's Toronto.

Might change your mind.

So, do you have assistants back in Toronto?

They're more than that.

What's taking him?

Have you ever experienced a quick visit to a pharmacy?

Suppose not. So, tell me about them.

Not if they're going in that.

Agreed.

Trudy is my partner. People like her and trust her.

Probably more than they should.

Can I help you, madam? Yes. I'd like to inquire about the security of your safety deposit boxes.

Are you interested in obtaining one?

Perhaps. There may be some personal items in the boxes, so no one other than myself could open it, right?

Oh, of course not. No, our security boxes can only be opened with the actual key or by the actual owner.

No exceptions. Very reassuring.

Flo works in the morgue. Oh, a coroner!

No, not yet, but she is smarter than any doctor I've ever met.

If the roofs cave in, I don't want to know.

Got a job from Frankie.

She needs someone who looks like a doctor.

See you later.

Mary is a morality officer.

Hmm. So she fits Toronto well. Well, she's my in with the police because the police and I don't always see eye to eye.

Your supplies, Madam.

Ah! At last. What do I owe you?

I'll need to see your licence to practice.

Uh, what licence do you mean?

I have an Apothecary Hall certification.

Which only allows you to dispense for a medical officer or chemist.

This is absurd.

I trained at the dispensary at the Torquay Town Hospital, and I need those dr*gs urgently! I'm sorry.

This isn't good enough.

I insist you telephone them immediately and speak to a Mrs. Ellis.

Place a long-distance call?! I'll do no such thing.

Well, then I shall take my business elsewhere.

Good day to you, sir. Now, madam, be reasonable! She said, "Good day."

You got it? Swift hands.

Excellent display of outrage, Agatha.

It was no display.

Of course, he would never treat a man like that.

I've got half a mind to... Normally I would approve of what it is you're about to do, but we haven't got time.

Belvedere Nursing Home, please.

Louise never mentioned that you were a nurse. What was that like?

When I was in training, my pharmacist was preparing a batch of suppositories. I realized he'd used ten times the correct dose of a very dangerous drug.

He'd got the decimal point at the wrong place, you see.

Did you tell him? What? Tell him he got the dose wrong? He'd never have believed me.

So I waited 'til the batch had cooled, I tipped them over, trod on them firmly, apologizing like a mad fool. Of course, he didn't have a clue.

He just patted me on the cheek and said, "Don't worry too much, little girl."

You saved lives, Agatha.

I suppose I did.

So, because they didn't want me to really do anything, I used the time between prescription orders to write my first mystery.

And since poison was at hand...

Why not use death by poison in your plot?

Strychnine, to be precise.

Have you read my book?

I couldn't put it down.

What did you think?

Real life is never that clever.

But sometimes, it's more interesting.

Can I ask you a question? You're going to anyways.

That hush-hush stuff between you and the Captain...

I don't see how that's any of your business.

It's not. Were you sleeping with him?

You were.

What else?

Well, some things during the w*r are better forgotten.

I hope he didn't ask too much of you.

Men can do that.

Detective, I believe our opportunity has presented itself.

Bingo.

Frankie, look who's back.

If it isn't Florence Nightingale.

If she sees you, you are out on your ear.

OK, change of plan: you take in the antidote.

Me? You know what you're doing.

Alright. Wish me luck.

OK, Mary, let's try it one more time.

Box 638 contains important materials relating to a case.

Got it?

I think so.

Start with the badge.

Right.

There. Over here. Oh, this man?

Officer Mary Shaw, Toronto Police.

Flo Chakowitz, City Morgue.

We're here on urgent police business.

Ah. Uh, how can I help?

Well, we believe one of your safety deposit boxes - box 638 to be exact - contains important materials relating to a case.

Ah! Do you have the key?

Well, unfortunately, we do not.

In a desperate attempt to evade the law, the owner has gone and swallowed the key.

And he's no longer with us.

Well, be that as it may, I can't help you.

Well, surely a good citizen such as yourself wants to see justice served. You require the key or the owner. Those are the rules.

Oh! Well, why didn't you say the rules earlier?

We could have avoided this whole misunderstanding.

Oh! It's unconventional and perhaps a little malodorous, but I will transport the owner from the morgue immediately.

Corpses are rarely a pleasant sight, but I'm sure your customers will understand that you're just following rules. Box 638?

Ah... Uh, one moment, please.

Excuse me.

We're getting good at this. I think we're getting really good at this.

Well, it's a deed.

Made out to a Duncan Farr for a large parcel of land.

Where?

Near Sudbury.

Hmph! Lucky him. Hm, doesn't mean it's not worth something. Land Registry might know more.

Hmm. Looks like Trudy's got a hot date tonight.

All done!

Louise.

Louise! It's me, Agatha.

Drink this. Quickly now before someone sees me.

That's it. Swallow.

Swallow. Hmm.

That's it! Get it down. You're a good girl.

Good girl. That's it. Yeah, water.

Yes, it has a bit of aftertaste.

That's it.

Good girl. Good girl.

Hmm... Blackwall?

Blackwall. Blackwell?

Blackwall. Blackwall?

Blackwall. What are you saying?

Talk to me, Louise. What are you trying to tell me?

Foolish marrying...

We need to get her out of here. Grab some sheets!

Ah! A rope! Good idea. Works at boarding schools.

Louise, it's me, Frankie. Ah?

Ah.

Sorry.

You're an old hand at this.

How's she doing? Her heart rate is normalizing, so, uh, the antidote's working. She'll need more when she wakes.

Understood. Thank you for taking care.

Of course! No one hurts a dispatch gal on my watch.

So what do you suggest?

We wait until she can talk.

Duncan Farr, a British fellow, he would have bought some five years ago.

"Never heard of him."

Alright. Well, thank you!

Bill might be able to help with this.

If we can't get anywhere with this, then I'll ask him.

He's a good man to have around.

I'll say. Oh, hello.

I'm inquiring about a plot of land.

It's registered to a Duncan Farr.

Do you know anything about it?

And it's just been laying there?

He hasn't been doing anything with it?

Would I be able to get in contact with him?

No. Ah, well...

No, I don't want any land. OK, goodbye.

Well, that's every estate agent in Sudbury.

Every? Well, there's only two.

Alright. I'll ask Bill.

I'm just saying this now: I hate using him.

You're not! You're helping Frankie. And us.

The three of you were a tight-knit g*ng?

They got me through a lot.

But you couldn't tell them everything.

There were things I couldn't tell anyone.

Things you did for the Captain.

He trusted me.

Let me guess: you were his eyes and ears?

A woman is invisible when she's delivering messages.

I was to listen and report.

On his own people?

He was looking for enemy informers.

And he tasked you with helping him?

He gave me an assignment.

I had to stop someone from delivering plans.

I had no choice.

Terrible things were asked of us during the w*r.

All we can do is put the past behind us and try to forgive ourselves.

Sure.

Duncan Farr's land information.

Thanks, Bill. Always nice having friends in high places.

File clerk's hardly high, but you know I'm happy to help.

Seems you're not the only one interested in Farr's property.

Someone else signed this out - a land surveyor.

"Gregory Snow, 1255A Adelaide Street."

Wonder who he's working for? What are we looking for?

Anything useful.

Bill, look what I found!

The night watchman.

That was close.

We gotta stop meeting like this.

I gotta get this back to Frankie. We got some time.

Let's get out of here.

Good ol' Trudy!

Louise's father owns property north of Toronto.

That's the mysterious fortune? Poor him.

Well, it's worth a mint.

It sits on one of the world's largest nickel finds.

And if Louise dies - God forbid - hubby James inherits it all?

Well, a surveyor named Gregory Snow reviewed the place.

Trudy's trying to find out who hired him.

James Barton perhaps? That would be my guess.

Your friends found this out? They did.

They're good. No. They're the best.

Poison me? No, James would never do that.

But when we found you in the nursing home, that's what you told us. I don't remember.

It's the only explanation.

I found this. A key.

So what?

It led us to a deed that your father left at a bank in Toronto.

Daddy went there after the w*r on some land-buying trip.

Louise, if you were to...

James would inherit very valuable property.

What property? I don't have any...

You don't understand, he would never hurt me.

Did James ever mention a surveyor named Gregory Snow?

No.

I never heard that name.

Just leave James and me alone. He didn't do anything.

Everything points to her husband.

Why is she protecting him?

What is she hiding? What else have we got?

Louise said some pretty odd things the night I gave her the antidote.

Of course, she was delirious, but something about... marrying, marriage, Blackwell's, or... What was it?

"Blackwall."

Could be a name? Could be.

OK, you run that down; I'm gonna go talk to James.

Talk?

Hopefully that's all that's required.

Nothing so far.

James Barton didn't hire a land surveyor before he purchased.

He would have had to. Well, even if he did, it wasn't Gregory Snow 'cause he's not registered anywhere.

He doesn't exist?!

No. Not as far as I can see. Guess we better tell Frankie.

I've never heard of Gregory Snow.

I don't know anything about land, especially not in Canada!

You married Louise so soon after her father d*ed; was that to get your hands on her inheritance?

What are you talking about? You knew that Louise's father was a land speculator.

You hired Snow to assess the property in Canada and found out that it was worth a fortune.

I'm afraid you've lost me.

Did Snow already have a buyer lined up?

We know all about Blackwall.

I've no idea what you're talking about.

Where is my wife? Isn't that who you've been hired to find?

She's somewhere safe. You found her?

Yes. And not where you put her.

Is she alright?

Mr. Barton... Please, Miss Drake, is Louise alright?

Well, you don't look happy. I'm not.

James didn't put Louise in that place.

He had no idea that she was even there.

And Trudy has hit a dead-end, she can't find anything on Blackwall, and there's no surveyor named Snow.

That's because Gregory Snow isn't a surveyor.

He's Louise's husband. What?

Blackwall isn't a name - it's a place in the East End of London. Rough area.

Amazing what a five-pound note can buy you there.

What is the connection between Blackwall and Louise?

There was a notorious black market ring operating outside of Blackwall just after the w*r. Louise was muddled up in it.

Our Louise? I'm afraid so.

The ring's leader was her husband.

Gregory Snow. Very same.

The police moved in to bust up the operation;

Snow somehow managed to escape. Word is he went to Canada and Louise... was arrested.

Three years in Holloway Prison.

That's why she lied: she was trying to hide her past.

There's more. Snow and Louise were never divorced.

He's still her legal husband? Mm-hmm.

OK. So Snow goes to Canada, finds out that Louise's father has passed away.

He does a little digging and realizes that he's married to a millionaire.

Except she doesn't know it yet.

He comes back to England and starts planning her "natural" death, knowing that he would inherit.

So it was the husband. We just had the wrong one.

Oh, Frankie! Ah, what happened?

Too late. She's gone.

What? Who did this to you?

Louise did. What?!

She was trying to leave and I stopped her.

And then she clobbered me with a wrench.

Knocked senseless by a pal with one of my own tools.

Well, where's she gone? I don't know.

But she took my coat and p*stol.

The girl's gone mad.

She went home.

Are you sure about that? No.

But if Snow's here, she's not the only one in danger.

Oi! Where's Lou?

I don't know any Lou.

Sure you do. You married her.

I just want to talk to her.

Well, I hardly think that she'd want to talk to you.

I doubt you know very much at all what she wants.

Do you know where she was... before she suckered you?

A little place called Holloway Prison.

She's my wife, and you don't speak about her like filth.

Ugh! Oh! Oh!

That's enough!

It's over, Snow! Oh, it's far from that.

She's still my wife! Where is she?

I'll hurt you if need be. No, you won't!

You leave her alone.

Oh!

I thought you were dead. Why else would you leave me to face the music unless you were dead?

Put the g*n down, Lou.

You left me to rot in prison. He's not worth it.

Step back, Frankie.

There's another way.

We take him in, you testify - he's out of your life. You don't know what I went through, that prison.

If you sh**t him, you're tied to him forever.

You know what? Go ahead.

sh**t him. He deserves it after what he did to you.

But you remember that when you're sitting in a cell in Holloway prison.

I can't go back there. I can't.

Just put the g*n down, Louise.

Please, put it down.

Come on! Start!

You won't get far without this.

You're caught, Mr. Snow!

I-I-I don't think you're gonna need that, Agatha. I suppose you're right.

Pity.

When I met Gregory, he made me feel alive.

I knew what he was and what he did but I married him anyway.

It was exhilarating. 'Til it wasn't.

I made a real mess of things.

I'm so sorry I lied to you and what I did to Ruby...

Oh, she'll get over it.

It's over. What of the future?

Well, believe it or not, James can overlook my past, so long as it's not plastered all over The Times.

Not a word from me.

I suppose. Though it is a good story.

His lawyer is sorting everything, so our marriage is legal.

I owe you both. Thank you.

You know, I would like to point out that it was me who found the clue that unlocked this whole riddle.

And I found the antidote!

Well, Frankie, this has been most illuminating.

See you here next week? I can't.

Chamber of Commerce luncheon.

Oh! No bother. The week after next then.

And, Frankie, if I ever go missing...

I will expect you to find me.

Thank you, Frankie. You saved my life.

Us dispatch girls have to stick together.

You look lovely, Frankie.

You ready for that drink?

No. No?

That night that you gave me the map...

...you planned my route, didn't you?

I did.

You sent me into an ambush.

I knew you could handle it.

It would have been nice to know what your plan was.

You have no idea how many lives you saved, Frankie.

You sent me out there to k*ll someone!

He was the enemy. And it was w*r.

He was just... he was just a boy!

Yes, a boy working against us.

Now come on.

I can explain it all over a drink.

I don't think so.

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

Wow! I'll be turning heads at church this Sunday.

Frankie, these are gorgeous!

But you didn't need to get us gifts, we're just happy to have you home.

Speak for yourself. Who can't use a new chapeau?

Thanks to you girls, I was able to get an old friend out of hot water.

Speaking of which, whatever happened with the leak?

I fixed it.

With help.

I should go away more often. No!

Please. We really missed you.

I bet you missed the homemade hooch.

Well, she was probably drinking the real stuff...

...over there, across the pond.

I was.

I picked up a few tips on botanicals for our next batch.

Oh! From the bartender at the Savoy, no doubt.

It was actually.

What do you think? Darling, it's fabulous! Darling!