[leaves rustling]
[vehicle approaching]
[engine idling]
-[boy] Thank you. -[girl] Thank you.
[boy] I'm gonna test you on the plans in random order.
Never know which one we'll need and when.
It's vital we can communicate quickly and clearly in as few words as possible.
[girl] Good start. Took you 30 words to explain what you're about to do.
[boy] Don't be facetious, Lucy. We really don't have time.
Now, what's Plan C?
[Lucy] Plan C means whoever isn't in combat makes a defensive circle.
Plan E mean you fight the visitor. I deal with the source.
Plan D is the other way round. Plan B is salt-bombs.
Plan A is lavender water, and Plan F is Greek fire,
which should only be used indoors under carefully controlled circumstances.
-Ten out of ten. -There were only six.
Damn. I'll have to think of another four.
Thought there wasn't any time to be facetious.
Well, we're slightly ahead of schedule.
[crow cawing]
-Are you sure this is the right address? -62 Sheen Road. Mrs. Hope.
-[doorbell rings] -[boy] Quarter to six on the dot.
[knocking]
-[clock ticking] -[hissing]
[boy] Ah.
Here she comes. [sniffs]
[woman] Are you from the agency?
[boy] Mrs. Hope?
I'm Anthony Lockwood. This is my colleague, Lucy Carlyle.
We've come about your problem. Care to show us inside?
Oh no, I won't set foot in there.
Not since my husband passed. Not since… how he passed.
The disturbances have been very persistent.
I… I'm going to sell it, but it needs fixing first.
That is exactly what we do.
Locate the visitor, contain the source. A safe space means a satisfied customer.
Shouldn't you have a supervisor?
I… I thought an adult had to be present at an investigation.
Strictly speaking, the law states
that an adult's only required if operatives are undergoing training.
But we don't find it necessary.
To be honest, adults are pretty useless.
'Cause of their lack of sensitivity. They just get in the way.
[keys jingle]
One more thing, madam. Is there someone else inside the house? It's just, we saw--
No. I've got the only key.
Here's the form you sent. Tells you all you need to know.
Now I have to go. It's almost curfew.
When I was your age, I was out chasing boys, having fun.
It's terrible the world's come to this.
I feel sorry for your generation.
Cheerful soul.
Real ray of sunshine.
[tense music playing]
[sighs] Ready?
Ready.
[music intensifies, fades]
[door creaking]
Heating's off.
Better be. It's freezin'.
Anything else?
[Lucy] Yeah, think so.
Shall we?
[bags thud]
[Lockwood exhales]
-[pulse of energy] -[Lucy inhales]
[silence]
[tapping]
[tapping continues]
-[Lockwood] Hear something? -Yep.
Knocking. Very faint.
Can't tell from where. You?
Death-glow. So bright I should have brought my sunglasses.
-[thumping] -[man screaming]
[gasps]
[chuckles]
It's not funny. I heard him falling. Sounded brutal.
It's not even six.
-Tea? -[Lucy] What does it say?
They moved here. Everything was fine. No manifestations.
Then, suddenly, he falls down the stairs and dies.
She thinks he tripped going to get a glass of water.
-Hmm. Very credible. -Sarcastic or ironic?
The cleverer one. [grunts]
-Do you think she pushed him? -Well, at least that'd be a motive.
Did she describe the apparition?
It says she felt like something was looking for her, but couldn't find her.
And the thought of it finding her was more than she could bear.
-So it has a purpose. -Which suggests a Type Two.
[clock chiming]
6:30.
Sun's down.
How about we find ourselves a ghost?
[Lucy] Knocking's back.
Getting louder.
It stopped.
Soon as I stepped onto the landing. So it knows we're here.
-[bleeping] -[Lockwood] Temperature's dropping.
[Lucy] Right, torch off. I need to tune in.
Pick a door. Any door.
-Go with the furthest. -Why?
[Lucy] It's the scariest.
[creaking]
-Office. -Yeah.
But not always. Look.
Pressure marks. Deep, wide apart.
Perhaps this used to be the bedroom before the Hopes moved in.
[Lucy gasps]
I can feel it. This is where the source is. Can't… can't you feel it?
-[crashing] -[gasps]
[fading cry]
Don't let it get to you. Keep active. Go get the bags. Make a circle.
-I'll check the other rooms. -Filings or chains?
Oh, filings.
Sure? It's still early, it's already this strong.
-It's not that strong, plus… -Plus what?
I forgot to bring the chains.
You forgot to bring the chains?
George took them out to oil them. I didn't check he'd put them back, so…
it's George's fault.
Anyway, it doesn't matter.
We don't need them for a job like this. Filings will be just fine.
[tuts]
[sighs] Bloody amateurs.
[tuts, irritated sigh]
[bags thud]
[whispering voices]
[whispering continues]
[Lucy] Lockwood?
-[whispering continues] -[Lucy] Lockwood?
[strained voice] Lockwood…
[Lockwood] Just a sec. There's another death-glow.
Something nasty happened here too a long while back,
which means there might have been two violent deaths in this house.
[Lucy, louder] Lockwood! It's urgent!
Thing is, I don't see how the first death's got anything to do with the Hopes,
so perhaps the disturbances weren't caused by Mr. Hope…
-[female voice murmuring] -No. Well done.
-They weren't. -Ah.
-You got anything from her? -Haven't tried.
Been busy trying to make contact with the living.
Why not have a go before she gets any closer?
[overlapping whispering and wailing]
-[Lucy exhales] -[pulse of energy]
[silence]
-[faint screaming] -[exhales]
She's in pain.
-Of course she is. She's dead. -No, something's different.
-[Lockwood] What's different? -Ssh!
I can almost…
[whispering] Let go of me!
Let go of me!
Let go of me.
[screeching] Let go of me!
Let go of me! [screams]
-[gasps] -[Lockwood] Lucy!
[screams]
[theme music playing]
[echoing whisper]
[sheep bleating]
[man] Tell me about your daughter, Mrs. Carlyle.
[Mrs. Carlyle] Well, she's always had talent, ever since she was a baby.
She used to keep us up all night with her crying.
We thought there was something wrong with her,
until we realized she was hearing them in the street outside her window.
-[man] So she's a listener? -[Mrs. Carlyle] Gifted.
When she was six, she saw a visitor on the marshes.
Heard it long before she saw it, or she wouldn't be here with us now.
She does sound special. And you're in luck. We've a vacancy.
I lost one of my operatives the day before yesterday, poor lad, but…
he was about her size, so maybe she could have his old uniform.
Well, that'd be wonderful.
Mrs. Clarke will take care of the paperwork.
We're ever so grateful.
Aren't you gonna give me a smile, young lady?
[telephone ringing]
[Mrs. Clarke] You confirm that the child is of legal age to be an operative?
[Mrs. Carlyle] Yes, 13 last week.
And has adequate ability to sense the presence
of Type One and Type Two visitors,
and to defend against them?
Yes.
You understand she'll be exposed to significant risk
of trauma, injury, and death whilst carrying out her duties?
Yes.
And that beyond completion of training and issuance of protective equipment,
it's her responsibility to safeguard herself at all times?
[Mrs. Carlyle] Yes.
[Mrs. Clarke] Payment will be made on the last Friday of each month.
-Into whose account? -[Mrs. Carlyle] Mine.
[Lucy breathing heavily]
I don't want to do it. It scares me. I don't want to be scared all the time!
Everyone's scared all the time. What makes you so special?
I'll get a job somewhere else. Anywhere else.
I just want to stay in school. I want to be normal.
Listen to me, young lady.
Your father left us with nothing when he drank himself to death,
so you'll go in there Monday morning,
and smile and charm and work hard and be grateful,
or so help me God, I will show you what being scared really feels like.
["Bela Lugosi's Dead" by Bauhaus playing]
Ladies and gents, this is Lucy Carlyle. She's a listener.
Mother says she's gifted, but we'll be the judge of that.
Norrie, look after her, show her the ropes.
Careful. Don't get any on you. It's deadly poisonous.
[Jacobs] Poisonous and extremely expensive.
Any you spill comes out of your wages.
[Lucy] That's the explosive?
Sand, salt and silver fulminate.
Reacts with their plasm.
[Jacobs] Remember, iron forms a barrier between you and a ghost.
The stronger the ghost, the stronger your barrier must be.
Type Ones are weaker. Type Twos are more powerful.
Never show them your fear.
Know why he carries that silver flask all the time?
[Lucy] No.
[Norrie] 'Cause it's the only way he'll ever trap any spirits.
-You know why he's so pale? -No.
He gets the shit scared out of him three times a night.
[laughs]
You know why he's called Jacobs?
No.
-'Cause he's fricking crackers. -[laughs]
[Jacobs] Swan Hotel. Top floor corridor.
No one will take any of the rooms because of strange and unpleasant sensations.
Find the spirit and neutralize it.
[Lucy breathing deeply]
[Lucy gasps]
[Norrie] What is it, Luce?
-[yowling] -[Norrie] Can you hear somethin'?
-[gasps] -[pulse of energy]
[silence]
[heavy footsteps approaching]
-[thump] -[gasps]
It's here. [gasping]
[whimpers]
-It's coming. Behind us! -What?
-What are you doing? -[Norrie] Listen to her, Paul.
She knows what she's doin'.
[whimpers]
[grunting]
-What's your name again? -Lucy Carlyle.
Nice work tonight, Lucy Carlyle.
Your rapier is your most vital piece of kit.
Its iron blade wards away the specters.
Disperses them.
The more proficient you become, the longer you'll live.
[music continues]
[wind whistling]
-[voices cry out] -[Lucy] Norrie!
-Lucy! Help! -[voices screeching]
[Jacobs] In recognition of two years at Jacobs & Co.
and achieving third grade,
her own rapier and copy of the Fittes Manual.
A true asset to the agency…
Lucy Carlyle.
[cheering and whistling]
[Norrie] Why couldn't I have been born a Fittes?
Why wasn't I called somethin' fancy, like Penelope or Marissa?
Whoever heard of anyone rich and famous called Norrie?
She's got a cupboard full. She'll never notice.
[song playing faintly over speaker]
Oh God. Maybe this is how it starts.
How what starts?
How you end up like Jacobs,
or any of the other sad sack adults in this shitty town.
-Drinking whisky at four in the afternoon? -Ahh! It's just a sip. To celebrate.
No! We can't work for Jacobs till our talent fades.
We can't let our parents piss our money up the wall.
Let's go to London. Tonight.
Get interviews at Fittes and Rotwell. Make something out of ourselves
before our names end up on that giant gravestone in the square.
I can't.
I haven't passed fourth grade yet.
They'd send me back or put me on night watch.
So we fake the letters or bullshit our way in.
It's the talent that counts, not bits of paper.
Yeah, then wait, until I'm fully qualified.
It's not long. Just next year,
and… then I don't need anyone's permission.
And we'll meet with all the big agencies. There'll be a bidding war to sign us up.
And in a couple of years, we'll be the most famous agents in the country.
We'll be on the cover of every magazine.
The ghost of Marissa Fittes will come back from the dead
and drag her raggedy arse out of her coffin
-and beg us to sign up with her. -She'll beg! [laughs]
-[writing] -[sniffs]
Your solemn and binding promise.
My solemn and binding promise.
[song fades]
[Jacobs] Right, Moorgate Mill.
Logging company wants to clear it and sell it on to a developer.
Records of visitations are vague, but everything points to a Type One.
[Norrie] Mr. Jacobs?
Is it true you met Marissa Fittes?
I trained at Fittes in London while she was alive.
She came to watch us during sword practice.
What was she like?
Magnificent. Before she and Rotwell
discovered the link between visitors and sources, it was chaos.
Riots in the streets, scores killed every day.
She changed everything.
The only person ever to hold an actual conversation with a Type Three.
So when you say you met her, you mean you were briefly in the same room as her?
It's closer than you'll ever be.
Closer to history.
Right. 'Cause it all started from nowhere,
then Fittes and Rotwell magically appeared.
All a bit convenient, isn't it?
-Here we go, Mr. Conspiracies. -What do you believe, then?
We don't know the real story about the Problem.
So clever and handsome.
-Such a radical thinker, isn't he, Lucy? -Hmm!
Find the visitor, locate the source, contain it and get out.
I don't wanna be here all night.
[wings fluttering]
-[Paul] Anyone gettin' anything? -[Norrie] Nothin' yet.
But it's absolutely freezin', and I do not like what that's tellin' us.
-[pulse of energy] -[sighs]
[inhales]
[echoing sobbing]
[gasps]
It sounds like a child.
Down there.
[moaning]
[crying]
[echoing laughter]
[laughter slows to a growl]
Something's wrong.
-I don't think that's a Type One. -[high-pitched laughter]
[gasps]
We'll follow it. You report to Jacobs.
No. We should all leave, get more equipment,
make a plan, then come back.
If we leave, we'll lose it. Go, Lucy, please.
Everyone else, come with me. Stay close.
Be careful, Norrie.
[breathing heavily] We found something.
[yelps] Gah!
I thought it was a phantasm or shadow child at first.
Now I'm not so sure. I think…
-I think you should get everyone out. -Because you're not so sure?
-I need more. What's your evidence? -It's nothing clear. Just… just a feeling.
We don't make decisions based on feelings.
Maybe you could come in too? See what you think?
Just do your job.
[owl hoots]
[whispers] Oh God.
-[Paul] What is that? -[girl] Too close!
[Paul] It's coming through! Aah!
Someone!
-Quickly! -[explosions]
[Lucy] Norrie!
[agents screaming]
-Norrie, move! -[screeching]
[explosions]
[Paul] I need some chains now!
Lucy, Norrie, close the door! Save yourselves!
[wailing and screeching]
Norrie!
[Paul yelling]
-Norrie, no, no! -[explosions]
Norrie! Norrie!
Sir! Sir, please!
She's ghost locked!
Sir, please, we need your help! Sir, sir!
-No, sir! Sir! -[explosions continue]
[Lucy] They're dying!
Norrie!
Sir, no!
[crying] No, no! Sir!
[Jacobs] I acted entirely in accordance
with the information Miss Carlyle brought to me.
It's a pity she wasn't more forthright.
Many young lives might have been spared.
[woman] And you heard no cries for help,
nor any indication of a disturbance,
until Miss Carlyle emerged from the building
and there was no more that could be done?
-[Jacobs] None whatsoever. -That's not true.
You were standing in the doorway. I saw you.
-I was screaming right at you! -[coroner] Quiet, please!
You'll speak only when you're spoken to.
In the cases of the fatal ghost touch
of Alfie Morgan, Joy Young, Paul Bell, and Abraham Kosta,
I hereby rule death by misadventure.
Their parents will receive due relief
from the Fittes Fund for Bereaved Families.
[murmuring]
Well done.
In the case of persistent morbid ghost lock suffered by Norrie White,
I will recommend her for subsidy
by the Department for Psychical Research and Control's Veteran Support Fund.
[woman] Will she ever wake up?
Will she ever come back?
[man] The best we can do is keep her comfortable.
[Mrs. Carlyle] Look at me. Look at me, young lady.
I'm not having you moping round here all day and night.
And I'm not spending the rest of my days getting dirty looks
because I am the mother of the girl who caused those kids to die.
First thing tomorrow, I am taking you to Jacobs, and you'll apologize.
You'll admit you're to blame and ask him to take you back.
If he doesn't, you will beg until he does. Do you understand?
[whispers] Yes.
I understand that you don't care about me.
Or Norrie.
Or the truth.
She was my best friend.
We were a family. You think I'd ever do anything to hurt any of them?
-That's enough. -No, it's not.
All my life, you treated me like I was nothing,
till I could make you a bit of money.
All I wanted
is for you to love me.
But you're incapable.
You can't feel anything. You are deader than dead.
He's expecting us at nine.
[birdsong]
[upbeat music playing]
[woman] Excuse me.
Excuse me. Is this your first time in London?
It can be dangerous here, especially at night.
If you need somewhere safe, come to one of our centers.
No, thanks. I'm… I'm fine, thanks.
[music continues]
[woman on PA] …forms to the desks on the lower level
and report for interview and processing.
[man] ID, references, and parental permission, please.
I'm sorry, I don't have any of those,
but I do have my grades one to three certificates, with special commendation.
No paperwork, no processing.
-Please. I've been waiting over an hour. -I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do.
[sighs] If I could just talk to someone, tell them about my talent,
I promise I won't be wasting your time.
It's your own time you're wasting. Next time, bring your parents.
Please. I've come hundreds of miles, and I have nowhere to sleep tonight.
Just give me ten minutes to explain.
You think you're the first person to knock on this door with that story? Move along.
[bacon sizzling]
-[woman] Thank you. Lovely. -[waitress] Not at all.
[indistinct chatter]
["Sick Child" by Siouxsie and the Banshees playing]
[softly imitating gunfire]
♪ And I know ♪
♪ I never knew you ♪
♪ Your mind, your pain ♪
♪ I will melt your winter tears ♪
♪ If you say you will ♪
-♪ If you could say you will ♪ -[bell rings]
[boy] Are you Arif's new girl?
Who's Arif?
Runs the corner shop, usually sends round donuts about now.
But you don't have any donuts, so you'll be another candidate.
I thought we'd finished. Name?
Lucy Carlyle. Are you Mr. Lockwood?
Me? No.
-Uh-- Well, can I see him, then? -Don't see why not.
The last one's just gone in, but from the looks of her, she won't be long.
[Lockwood] Okay, take a look at this. Tell me what you think it is.
[girl] Oh my God! Get that away from me!
[gasping]
See? Told you so. Okey-dokey, if you'd like to follow me?
You win. There was one more.
No, you win. I checked the list. That was the last one.
Then who's this?
Hello. I'm Anthony Lockwood.
I'm Lucy Carlyle. I don't have an appointment,
but I saw your advert in the paper, and I was in the area.
You've heard of us?
No.
[scoffs]
My CV.
Would you like some tea? Or has George already offered?
I thought I'd wait until after the first test, see if she's still here.
We've wasted enough tea bags today.
Let's give her the benefit of the doubt and pop the kettle on.
All right, but I reckon she's a bolter.
[Lockwood] Sorry about him.
He gets very tetchy when he's hungry. Take a seat.
[crockery clattering]
So you've got the sight and the touch, but primarily, you're a listener.
Hmm. I've got good touch, but it sometimes merges with what I hear.
Touch sometimes triggers the sounds.
George can do a bit of that. Not me. Sight's my thing.
Death-glows, trails, all the ghoulish residues of death.
[nervous laugh]
It says here you trained up north with a local operative named Jacobs.
-Got your grades one to four, I presume? -Hmm. That's right.
-Did he give you a reference? -[Lucy] No.
My last employment ended… uh… abruptly.
I could tell you the whole story if you want,
but it's just not something I like dwelling on.
Some other time, then.
-Hmm. -[footsteps]
Ah! Finally.
-Shall we get on with the tests? -What tests?
The advert didn't say anything about tests.
Well, frankly, I don't set much store by references or referrals.
I prefer to see talent with my own eyes.
Please, take a biscuit. George will only eat them all.
Now, then.
What do you think…
this is?
Uh… It's silver-glass, made by the Sunrise Corporation.
[taps glass]
[gasps]
[scoffs]
Um… um…
Ahem. It's… it's a ghost-jar.
The skull's the source, and the ghost is tied to it.
Couldn't tell you what sort. Phantom or a specter, maybe?
That's right. Well done.
She was shaken. You could see it.
You know I can hear you when you say things like that?
Where did you get it? Only Fittes and Rotwell had them.
Time for questions later. Now, tell me, what do you think of this?
-[Lucy breathing shakily] -[low rushing]
[pulse of energy]
-[low wailing] -[muffled thumps]
-I can hear… gunshots. -[dog barking]
-Gunshots? -Sounds nasty.
No. They're not violent or sad. There's no suffering.
-[laughter] -[Lucy] This…
This belonged to someone…
happy, gentle.
Very good. My uncle. Used to take it with him on hunting trips.
Even had it with him when he keeled over from a stroke.
He was a nice bloke. Shame.
How about… this?
[low rushing]
[pulse of energy]
[distorted voice]
[woman and man screaming]
There's death attached to this. A lot of death. It's vile.
[low whoosh]
I don't know what this is or where you got it, but nobody should hold it.
Certainly not in the context of a job interview.
It's a memento of my first successful case.
-Heard of the mass murderer Harold Beck? -No.
And I don't think I want to, thanks very much.
That's very sensible. Horrible business.
Now, finally, give this a go.
[low rushing]
-[pulse of energy] -[exhales]
[silence]
I… I can't sense anything.
Really? Are you sure?
Try a little harder, why don't you?
[clock ticking]
No, I'm positive. Nothing.
[inhales deeply]
I should hope not.
-That's George's toothbrush cup. -[George giggles]
I didn't come here to be made fun of.
I don't know what kind of so-called agency this is,
but as far as I can see, it's about as prestigious
as a couple of pathetic schoolboys playing agents before their parents get home.
I'll see myself out.
[whistles] Feisty.
Step over here, and I will show you how feisty I am.
-Maybe I will. -I don't see you moving.
This is a deep armchair. Takes a while to get up.
-Oh. -[rustling]
I'll wait.
[laughs]
Miss Carlyle, I apologize for upsetting you,
but I assure you this is a genuine enterprise,
and that was a serious test.
Which you passed with flying colors.
You'd be amazed how many candidates make up some cock-and-bull story.
It'd be the most haunted cup in London if the mildest of their tales were true.
-Tell her about the biscuit rule. -What?
[George] She can't go taking two at once like that.
Each member of the agency can only take one biscuit at a time in strict rotation.
Keeps things fair.
Ea… Each member of the agency?
Assuming you are still interested in the position?
Yes.
I'm interested.
Excellent. How about I give you a tour of the house?
I can understand why you might think our setup's a little unusual.
We're a new agency, been registered three months.
We're accredited with DEPRAC,
but we're not on their payroll like Fittes or Rotwell.
We're independent, and we like it that way.
[Lucy] Who are your supervisors?
[Lockwood] No supervisors here.
No adults. It's my company, hence the name. That bother you?
Uh… Sounds all right.
Bathroom, my room, George's room.
Wouldn't go in without knocking. Walked in on him doing yoga once, totally naked.
-Got quite an unusual view. -[laughs weakly]
Huh? What about that room?
[Lockwood] That's private.
Nothing very interesting. Follow me, lots more to see.
The library is through there, but this is the most important room.
We call this the thinking cloth.
We jot down memos, theories, trains of thought.
It's a very useful tool.
I located the bones of the Fenchurch Street Ghoul
by sketching out the street plans here
at three in the morning over cheese on toast.
[George] When a case goes badly and we're not talking to each other,
it's good for exchanging insults too.
-Ah. How often does that happen? -Almost never.
-Now… -[opens door]
The basement. Follow me.
Offices. Case files.
George is obsessed with the history of the Problem.
He's a fastidious record keeper.
It's a good thing, too. I get brain-ache writing a shopping list.
Training room.
Randomized smoke jets simulating a variety of attack and defense patterns.
[screams]
George came up with it. Every now and then, it actually works.
You'll be proficient with a sword already as you've passed your fourth grade.
Of course.
Now, finally, our high-security storeroom.
It's unlocked.
Note to self.
Heighten security on high-security storeroom.
[Lucy] Wow.
You never know what's coming.
[Lucy] You still haven't told me where you got that haunted skull.
[Lockwood] It's George's. He likes to experiment on it.
See how it responds to different stimuli.
You still haven't told me.
He stole it.
Come on. I'll show you the attic.
This is where I slept when I was little. You can use it, if you like.
-Unless you've other arrangements? -Yes.
-No. I mean-- -We'd deduct the rent from your wages.
Nothing too steep, just enough to cover the bills. I'm a very reliable landlord.
It's, uh… got its own bathroom. There's a bigger one downstairs,
but that'd mean sharing with George, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
Right, well, I'll leave you to unpack. Settle in.
-That's assuming-- -Those newspaper clippings on the wall…
[chuckles] Oh! You saw those.
Not very modest, is it? Should really take them down.
No, it's more… It's just…
Well, it's just, you haven't said anything about…
I mean, who are you?
Plenty of time for that. You should rest. Get some sleep.
That's… if you'll take the job?
Yes.
Well, then, welcome to Lockwood & Co.
["All We Ever Wanted was Everything" by Bauhaus playing]
[wings fluttering]
♪ All we ever wanted ♪
♪ Was everything ♪
♪ All we ever got ♪
♪ Was cold ♪
♪ Get up, eat jelly ♪
♪ Sandwich bars and barbed wire ♪
♪ Squash every week into a day ♪
-I know what you're thinking. -[gasps]
But it's forbidden.
-Oh. The door? -Yeah, the door.
-I was gonna get a glass of water. -You'll have more luck in the kitchen.
-Why does he keep it shut? -I've no idea.
-How long have you lived here? -About a year.
-Oh, so you know him pretty well? -Well enough.
'Cause… I'm just wondering about the house. How he came to live here.
-I'm guessing it belonged to his-- -To his parents?
Ask him yourself. He's usually in the library at this time of night.
He'll be less desperate for the lavatory than I am now.
So if you'd excuse me.
[door slams]
[song continues]
Hello.
Oh. Hello.
Sorry, am I interrupting? Only, I'm not tired, so…
No. No, not at all. Come in, sit down.
-[chuckles awkwardly] -[laughs]
What are you readin'?
Just keeping up with what's going on in town.
Parties, that kind of nonsense.
You'd think there'd be less of them since the Problem,
but for the rich, it's quite the opposite.
Nothing they like more than to lock themselves in a posh hotel
and thrill with horror at the thought of all the visitors lurking outside.
DEPRAC held one last week.
Everyone who's anyone was there.
Were you there? Can I see your picture?
No. So… no.
When your advert said that this is a prestigious agency,
it's not strictly true, is it?
You've only been working three months.
I read the papers and I've never heard of you.
Mild exaggeration.
Lots of people make them.
Like you, when you told me you'd passed your fourth grade.
I called DEPRAC.
I'm sorry. Look, I… I am good enough. I promise.
It's just… the way things ended with my last agency was--
Whatever happened then is in the past. What counts is the future.
I know you're good enough to be here. I saw it with my own eyes.
And trust me, we might be a new outfit and a little unorthodox,
but one day, this will be one of the most successful agencies in London.
And I want you to be part of it.
Thank you.
Uh…
Th… there is just one other thing.
Name it.
You've said I'm good enough for you. You've seen what I can do, but…
how do I know you're good enough for me?
[visitor] Let go of me!
[screaming]
-[grunts] -[wood falling]
[Lockwood] Lucy!
-[screeching] -[grunts]
[Lucy] Lockwood!
[screeching]
-Please! Hold on, Lucy!
I'm gonna fall!
[screams]
[Lucy] My foot's caught! [gasping]
[screeching]
[screams]
[Lucy] I'm slipping!
[yelps] Lockwood!
[Lucy screams]
[screams]
Lucy!
[Lucy screams]
[gasping]
-Did it touch you? -Course not. I'd be dead.
Lucy, if you don't feel steady, we should just go home now.
No, I'm fine. It's just…
Just what?
When I connected with her, it was different.
-What do you mean? -I saw how she used to be.
More than that. It was like I-- I could feel what she was feeling.
She's a ghost. Ghosts don't have feelings.
No, trust me. This was like nothing I have ever felt before.
You need to calm down.
-You need to listen to me. -The parameters have changed.
This is not just an old couple's argument anymore.
It's the ghost of a murder victim, and she's gonna be back any second,
so if your head's not in the right place…
Show me where she went.
She faded before she reached the wall, but that's where she was headed.
[Lucy] Chimney breast. Probably where the body is.
-This wall's been replastered. -Oh, careful. You broke the circle.
Oops.
-[cracking sounds] -[Lockwood grunting]
[voices whispering]
[urgent whispering]
She's back. [gasps]
[slamming echoes]
Boring. You've done that already. Try something new, why don't you?
Don't taunt her, Lockwood. She's angry.
-[Lockwood] Nearly there. -Hurry up.
[Lockwood] Here it comes.
-Oh! -[gasping]
My sword!
[visitor sighing]
Lockwood!
-[Lockwood gasps] -[visitor screams]
[Lockwood] This is not good.
-That's her. -[Lockwood] The body's the source.
I'll hold her back. You get a silver net over it.
In other words, Plan F.
That's not Plan F.
Uh, I… I mean, Plan B.
Plan B's salt-bombs. She's too strong for that.
For God's sake. I'll draw her off. You contain the source.
That's Plan E!
When this is over, we need to totally rework the lettering system.
Speak for yourself.
[visitor screeching]
[sounds fade]
[inhales]
Let go of me!
[gasps]
-[Lockwood] Lucy, behind you! -[visitor screams]
[screeching]
Lucy, hurry!
Lucy!
[Lucy gasping]
[tense pulsating music playing]
[both grunting]
Are you okay?
Apart from our client's house burning to the ground, absolutely fine.
-[explosion] -[Lucy gasps]
-What-- -[gasps]
What took you so long? What were you doing back there?
I told you. Something wasn't right. Something was different.
-I had to-- -Had to what?
What wasn't right? We secured the source, didn't we?
Yes, but… This is not the right time to be having this conversation.
Agreed. We should jump while there's something left to jump from.
Jump? You must be mad. We're way too high. We'll break our necks.
Ready? One, two, three!
[music intensifies, fades]
[theme music playing]