He couldn't sleep that entire night. He had simply stared at the ceiling thinking of all that had happened to him. He finally managed to close his eyes in the wee hours, getting about 2 hours until Daisy obnoxiously banged the door open in his room. He turned to the clock as she told him he was needed to help make early preparations for the garden party that was to happen later that afternoon. It was 5:00, an hour before they usually got up. Sodding great. He realized he was going to have to deal with all of the annoying people that made up the Downton staff that day, and restrain himself from throwing O'Brien, most of all, out of a window. Worst of it all, there was no one that he felt he could even express this inner anguish to, what with Lady Sybil dead and everyone else judging him over his earlier incident with Jimmy. The two weren't even on speaking terms after that.

Nevertheless, he dragged himself out of bed, and threw on his working clothes. The shower would have to wait until the arrogant lords and ladies with their whiny, entitled children vacated the house. After throwing some cold water on his face, he headed downstairs.

He met an anxious and angry Carson, for some reason mad that he hadn't come down earlier after taking only 5 minutes to get ready. He was to fetch four boxes of jarred fruits from the cellar and then do the curious task of moving the house's furniture outside, no doubt the work of well-meaning but self-centered Lady Crawley. Good god, he was bashing everyone today.

The rest of the day was spent preparing foods and decorating the outside. Around afternoon, the guests began to pour in. Thomas was called to a table to serve drinks and once he saw Matthew's face among them, the tray and his hands could not stop shaking once again. Surprisingly, he spilled on no one that day. He thought it would be the last time he had to see his face that day, until he called his name once more.

"Barrow, come here please."

Thomas silently pinched the bridge of his nose in his head while having a neutral look about him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Could you run in and ask Lady Mary to bring my croquet upon leaving our room?"

"Of course."

Matthew was not lazy, but he did have lapses where he made the servants do things he'd rather not do at certain times. He also found it odd that he would not go to his own wife himself. He met Lady Mary on the steps and told her of the request.

"You can just go in and find it yourself, the door's open. I don't know where he'd put the thing. It's not my problem."

She walked away. Thomas raised a brow. Was she just being extra bitchy today, or were she and Thomas having problems? Was this important in finding out why Thomas was in the outskirts of Yorkshire?

Thomas shrugged it off. He went into their room and took this opportunity to snoop around. He had to be quick, as there was no telling when someone could walk in, especially a frazzled Dowager looking for someone to plot a new conspiracy with.

He made his way to the room after a brisk walk up 3 floors and eyed a chest. He ran to it, pulling out each drawer one by one, but delicately as a doctor operating on a patient, making sure not one thing was taken out of place. He rummaged through nearly everything, but found nothing until he eyed a closet in the wall hidden by a heavy curtain, which had only caught his eye. He was about to go for it until Mrs. Hughes barged in.

"And what is it that you are doing, Mr. Barrow?"

"I was searching for Mr. Crawley's croquet. For which reason he wants it, I do not know. I suggest you go back downstairs and ask him if you do not believe me."

"That is not why I am here. Mr. Carson wants you to take out more hors doeuvre's for the guests."

He was visibly irritated, being on the verge of a great discovery. "Tell him I'll be five minutes."

"Well, carry out Mr. Crawley's request then get down here! Mr. Kent's weekend visit to his cousin's could not have been worse-timed."

It was interesting how Jimmy was in such a large part of Thomas' life, but they never talked to each other. He would try to be friendly on his return, but it would likely be to no avail. Frankly, he'd given up on him. But he mustn't let himself be distracted by such things. The hidden cabinet. Thomas slowly opened it, yet found nothing but his medications. He soon became discouraged.

However, he looked out the window and saw there was much more space there than was showing. He knocked on the wood, and a hollow noise was made. He found a switch on the bottom left corner, and flipped it. It unlocked a hidden compartment. Inside were a bunch of notes. He read all quickly, but the one that caught his eye was that which read "Follow target tonight. Get them out of the way early, while still can," which was dated the day before.

He didn't know what to make of it. He went to the higher cabinet where he knew Mr. Crawley always kept his croquet after closing the compartment, then the cabinet. Thomas couldn't help but hold on to the paper, to make sure he hadn't missed anything. After all, if it warranted a secret compartment, how would Matthew alert the entire house that the paper had been stolen, especially with what was written on it? With a self-satisfied smile at his finesse, he strolled out.

After all of the guests had left, Jimmy ironically came in, ready to get to work. As usual, Thomas attempted a greeting, but was met which ignorance from Jimmy. He went to his own room to examine the note, reading the words again and again to himself. He couldn't find anything else, but he knew that he must act. He remembered the promise he'd made to himself. There were so many ways to get to Crawley, but how was he to do it without getting caught? And could he bring himself to kill this person whom everyone adored, including himself (still, in a way, after all that had happened)?

He wouldn't feel 100% fulfilled until the killer knew who killed him, until he forced the killer to apologize, and until Thomas punished him severely enough to make him regret ever killing his lover. Most of all, Thomas had to get away with it.

He had to be sure that it was Matthew. So much was at stake if he was wrong. But he was dead inside. He and Daniel had been together for nearly a year and he knew he was the one. He thought other people might consider him cynical. Fuck them. They didn't know what it was like, so they had no right to judge.

3 unbearable weeks later, he got a call from the detective to go down to the station, officially to serve as a witness, his reason for going to know more about the investigation.

He was led into a secluded interview room by Detective Farley. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Barrow. I think you'll be happy to know that we found many helpful items at the scene."

Thomas was as anxious as a dog with the scent of a bone. "Like what?"

"Now, I'm not supposed to divulge that to everyone, but given the circumstances, I think I can make an exception, provided you don't go around telling people."

"Of course."

"Very well. From the crime scene, we found that the attacker had size 12 shoes, and that a piece of his overcoat tore on one of the poles. This is one of the reasons I called you in. Which direction did the murderer go?"

"Away from the museum, by way of the pavement, I believe."

"Excellent, that is where we obtained the material. And you should know that the material is a cotton, meaning the person we are dealing with here is most likely a part of the lower or middle class."

It was pretty bloody obvious that an officer would say that, but even Thomas knew that was flimsy at best. Reluctantly, he asked if there was anything else. He soon regretted asking.

"The glass shards in Mr. Rodham's face were from an alcohol bottle, most definitely, due to the way the particles scattered, and your description of the man being drunk. "

Thomas wanted to escape this conversation as soon as possible.

"Is that it?"

"Yes, for now."

"May I recommend a lead? Discreetly? Investigate one of the residents of my house, Matthew Crawley. He came home to our house in a –"

"Are you mad?! We cannot waste our resources harassing such a highly-esteemed member of this community."

"A man is dead, and this is very likely his killer! If you'd only hear me out—"

"Mr. Barrow, I'd appreciate it if you allow us to do the investigating, as we are experienced."

"That's debatable." It slid out like honey, but Thomas still regretted saying it.

"You will leave at once."

Well, Thomas had pissed off the police, destroying his only chance of legally exposing Matthew. He was starting to realize that the only real integrity in the world is that which one creates. He'd be paying a visit to Matthew's office in a few days, he knew that much.