"Again?" Mr. Carson's face almost purpled at the sight of John and Robert standing in front of his desk while Anna took the only other chair in the room. "We've had you here causing a ruckus more than I feel necessary for the application of justice in the course of your duties."

"I promise you, Mr. Carson, we wish we weren't here as often as we have been." John shuffled, "But it is a matter of some urgency."

"And all the other times you've disrupted my guests and put us out because you needed something? Were those not urgent as well?"

"Mr. Carson, our duties are not so simply explained."

"I would think the bureaucratic monoliths under which you operate have much to do with the difficulty of your planned explanations." He shook his head, "No matter your justifications, this investigation has led to enough infamy that we've lost our clientele and now we're…"

"Hosting a more degenerate crowd?" Anna suggested and John bit at his tongue to stop himself risking an ill-timed snort of laughter at the shock, offense, and absolute shame painted in competing colors over Mr. Carson's face. "It'll be an infamous place to visit and there is a certain rage to that kind of publicity. Frankly I'm surprised, given what happened here in the thirties, that you're not already a spot of some morbid fascination."

"We've done our best to keep ourselves above board with things like that."

"What…" John looked between Anna and Mr. Carson. "What happened in the thirties? Is there something else-"

"It's in the past." Mr. Carson held up a hand to stop John's continued questioning. "And not something we'd like everyone to know about in our quest to create a suitable dining experience."

"Mr. Carson," Anna leaned forward, "While I understand your worries about what might happen to the Cerulean Swan if this investigation continues, I think you should also consider what might happen if this investigation stalls."

"Excuse me?"

"imagine if there's no end to this investigation. If the people who come here worry, in the future, that they'll die and their death is never solved then…"

The silence had Mr. Carson, his face moving between deep red and chalk white, had him hauling in a deep, steadying breath. "What is your suggestion, Doctor Smith, to stop such an outcome?"

"Assistance, Mr. Carson." Anna shrugged, "If a noted institution like the Excelsior could remain open during a war, and even lose it's 'E' in a bombing, the Cerulean Swan will most certainly weather whatever injustice has been paid you and yours by our presence and the series of unfortunate events that've plagued this noble institution... If you help this investigation run its course."

John shrugged at Robert, who only pursed his lips and waited as Mr. Carson drummed his fingers on his desk. It took a moment but he eventually raised his hands in surrender. "Far be it from me to prove a deterrent to the police in the course of their duties trying to find those irresponsible enough to be on the wrong side of the law."

"Thank you, Mr. Carson." Anna gathered her coat and John waited for her to shake Mr. Carson's hand. "We could not do this without you and your help."

John followed Anna out of the office, whistling lowly so Mr. Carson would not hear. "You were awfully magnificent in there."

"I've a bit of experience cajoling people into doing what I want." Anna shrugged as they wove through the corridors and dodged around the waitstaff. "And we've not got the time to dither with him."

"Truer words never were spoke." Robert led them forward and paused to stop at a side door. "Does that resemble the freezer lorry your nameless friend claims he saw the… similar-to-you lady driving?"

"Since I never saw it and my 'friend' failed to give me a descriptor, I've no idea." Anna shrugged, "If it's a freezer lorry then-"

"If it helps, it's the only freezer truck we've had all day." All three turned their heads as a woman encountered them in the corridor. "And if you're asking about frequency of deliveries given our… history, I'll need to check through our records."

"As helpful as that will be, or might be," John frowned, shaking his head for a moment to try and better form his sentence. "We're more interested in the events of today, specifically."

"But, if you've got more to share about the frequency of past deliveries we'd be curious to hear about it." Robert extended a hand, "DCI Crawley, at your service."

John gave the woman a smile and extended his hand as well. "I'm DCI Bates, DCI Crawley's partner."

"Pleasure to meet you both." She turned to Anna, "I'd hate to leave you out."

"Doctor Smith." Anna shook the woman's hand, "But you can call me 'Anna'. It'll be easier."

"I'd think so." She surveyed the group, "I'm Phyllis Baxter, the new hostess here after Ms. O'Brien's… Rather unfortunate end."

John cringed, "We can't choose the consequences of our actions."

"No." Ms. Baxter's gaze unfocused, as if thinking about something other than the fate of the previous hostess. "I don't suppose we can."

"Given that," Robert pointed at the truck. "You said this is the only freezer truck you've gotten all day, yes?"

"Yes." Ms. Baxter nodded, "Ms. Braithwaite drove it in for us. It was a meat delivery from across town."

"Just out of curiosity," Anna exchanged a look with John, who only nodded to urge her on, "That meat delivery wouldn't happen to be located near the city morgue, would it?"

"It's in the meat packing district and one of the best routes to get there and back does pass the city morgue, yes." Ms. Baxter paused, "Is there a reason why you're asking after Ms. Braithwaite's route?"

"We have some questions for Ms. Braithwaite." Robert tapped John on the shoulder, "What if I take that on and you try to… Locate the missing."

John nodded and turned to Ms. Baxter. "Is there someone who could… Retrieve, Ms. Braithwaite? DCI Crawley would like to ask her about the freezer truck and… And perhaps some other things."

"We'll have to find her."

"We've got time to wait." Robert slipped his hands into his pockets. "We're here until we're finished."

"In that case we've got someone who…" Ms. Baxter looked over their shoulders and flicked her fingers to summon someone to their little party. "Ethel, can you escort DCI Crawley here about to find Edna?"

"Yes Ms. Baxter." Ethel gave them all a smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you'll follow me, Inspector, we'll see if we can find Edna."

"Meet in the dining area if we can. And, if not, the Grey Room." John pointed and Robert gave a nod before following Ethel away. "Now, Ms. Baxter, is there a way we could have you show us to the freezers the Cerulean uses?"

Ms. Baxter quirked an eyebrow at them before nodding. "We've got two. They're both in the back, if you'll follow me."

John stepped aside to allow Ms. Baxter the lead and then trailed Anna. "I am curious, Ms. Baxter, are you a recent hire here?"

"No. I've been assistant hostess to Ms. O'Brien for a very long time."

"Would you consider yourself close, to Ms. O'Brien."

Ms. Baxter stopped them, waiting for a line of servers to work dishes and platters around them into the main dining room. "No. Ms. O'Brien was only ever friendly with two people and neither of them were me."

"But you were her assistant. Her replacement, should she ever need one."

"That didn't make us friends." Ms. Baxter pulled them to a stop again, her voice lowering and forcing Anna and John closer to her. "While it's bad form to speak ill of the death, losing Ms. O'Brien and Mr. Barrow is… It's freeing. For myself, the staff, and for the Cerulean in general. I don't wish them dead, never did, and how they died…"

Ms. Baxter shook herself, practically shuddering at the thought of finding both Thomas and Ms. O'Brien hanging by the neck until dead in the back storerooms. "I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. But them being gone isn't seen as a tragedy around here."

"I wouldn't think so." Anna eyed Ms. Baxter, "Given what we've discovered about the illicit hobbies of your former co-workers, would I be right in assuming that the kind of secrecy that requires also took a toll on the individuals who worked here? Perhaps in a more personal way."

"If you're suggesting that I had any part in-"

"I think what Doctor Smith is suggesting is that the secrecy of their operation might've depending on buying or soliciting the silence from others." John bit at the inside of his cheek when Ms. Baxter swallowed hard. "The kind of silence bought through brides and threats, in my experience."

"I…" Ms. Baxter summoned them to a quieter corner off the kitchen, avoiding the main flows of traffic. "I was aware of Mr. Barrow's dealings. Vaguely informed of Ms. O'Brien's but that was more by association with what Mr. Barrow already had working here."

Anna put out a hand, stopping just short of laying it on Ms. Baxter's arm. "How long were you… Indebted to him?"

"Long enough that I knew about his work. I knew the kinds of people he invited here and the work he did." Ms. Baxter took a breath, "The kinds of things…"

John frowned, "What kinds of things?"

"The kinds of things I had to keep quiet about or else he'd tell my own sordid story." Ms. Baxter's eyes flicked between Anna and John. "I'd be ashamed to tell you both and… And it's not relevant to your investigation as my sins are more those of omission than commission."

"Why not tell anyone what you knew?" John suggested, "It could've put an end to all of this before-"

"If you say 'before anyone died' then you might be right and I have thought along those lines myself. But I was afraid…" Ms. Baxter managed a steadying breath. "I was afraid that if I told anyone then Thomas would tell my secrets. And just like that I would be out of a job again. Being broken and destitute, at my age, is the surest way to freezing to death on the street. And I…"

Her eyes met theirs, shining with tears as her shaking hands wiped at them. "And I'm not strong enough for that. I wasn't strong enough to stand up for myself so I shrank. I kept it to myself and I watched from the sidelines, hoping and praying that a miracle would free me."

"You'll have to tell me what god you prayed to since it obviously answered your prayers better than mine have ever been." Anna finally risked putting her hand on Ms. Baxter's shoulder and the woman visibly relaxed under the touch. "Whatever Mr. Barrow had over you, it's over now. No one need know."

"But we do need to know if you've got any information that might help us now." John paused, giving Anna and Ms. Baxter a moment. "Anything about Ms. O'Brien's gambling ring or the smuggling operation Mr. Barrow was so heavily engaged in. That information would be very helpful."

"More than the details of your unfortunate blackmail."

Ms. Baxter nodded, "I don't know much about Ms. O'Brien's dealings. I do know she had a very specific clientele and I could put names to faces if I needed to. But, unfortunately, most of my work was to make sure no one else noticed."

"Changes in the shipping and receiving documents?" John suggested and Ms. Baxter nodded. "Do you have the originals? It might give us a better idea as to how the money and resources distributed. Maybe even suggest points of origin."

"I could get those for you." Ms. Baxter gave a last wipe at her eyes before pointing. "The freezers are just through there. If you'll get to them I can get you the information you need."

"Divide and conquer." John agreed and went to put his hand on the door that would lead he and Anna to his destination when Ms. Baxter called back to them.

"You should know, I wasn't the only one they held in their thrall with the threat of revealing secrets."

John paused, his hand just above the knob. "Who else proved their victim?"

"Ethel is." Ms. Baxter bit at her bottom lip, "Ms. O'Brien knew that she's not really a war widow and her child… Well, the child's father is dead but that father was never Ethel's husband. It's been a point of great contention and Ethel's been fighting with the family of the boy's father for a declaration of paternity. I only know because I saw something about it and…"

"Ethel won't have to worry about us revealing that to anyone. It's not relevant and unless she's got information to share with us then-"

"But she wasn't the only one." This time John dropped his hand from the handle. "Perhaps the only other one like me but where Thomas had Jimmy to help him do some of his dirty work, Ms. O'Brien had someone to help her as well."

"Who?"

"Edna. Or Ms. Braithwaite, whichever you prefer." Ms. Baxter tugged at her fingers in a nervous tick. "Edna's always been… She wants more, you see. Believes that there are those who could give her that and she hitched her wagon to Ms. O'Brien's star. Saw herself as someone who could get ahead that way."

"Then I hope Robert's got a head about him to figure that out." John turned to Anna, "I think we need to check these freezers."

"I couldn't agree more."

They entered the back of the kitchen, avoiding most of the hustle and bustle loosely organized by a woman with orange-red hair and wielding a wooden spoon, and made for the freezers. John grabbed the handle of one and hauled it open, Anna stepping quickly inside to inspect it before returning with a shake of her head. The same result occurred as they entered and exited the second freezer with only an irate head chef and some broken eggs to their credit.

"Is there somewhere else along the route where you could, conceivably, store or dispose of three dead bodies?" John snapped his fingers at one of the passing servers as the words left his mouth. "Hey, do you have established routes you've got to follow for your shipments and pickups?"

"No sir. Most of them come here themselves. We never go out to get them."

"Then what was Ms. Braithwaite doing on a meat run?" John raised an eyebrow at Anna but she only shook her head in response. "I hate this case more by the day. It never makes any sense."

"Maybe we're not asking the right questions." Anna guided them back through the kitchen to the alley and entered the back of the freezer truck. "That being, if you were trying to smuggle out three bodies, how would you also get meat in here?"

"Perhaps it would've been better if we'd questioned everyone again at the morgue." John leaned against the side of the truck. "Maybe then we'd have something to go on."

"They already told you they thought she was me." Anna' voice echoed from the end of the truck as she swept through it slowly for evidence. "And the question we've not asking is how did she get the bodies out?"

"Same way she got them in?"

"No, because the aides at the morgue would've helped her get them into the truck and she doesn't have that advantage here."

"Maybe she's stronger than she looks."

"I doubt it." Anna shook her head. "If the aides at the morgue confused her for me then we already know a few things about her."

"Physical traits, you mean?"

Anna nodded and pointed at herself, "Do I look like I could lift the bodies of three people? Frozen ones, at that."

"Speaking honestly, no."

"Then she'd have to have a way to move three bodies out of the truck."

"And we just passed through a packed corridor so there's no way you sneak a dead body on a trolley and call it a meat shipment." John pointed back toward the kitchen from whence they had come. "Which means…"

He pivoted slowly to take in the whole of the alley before his eyes alighted on a set of large doors diagonal from the ground. "Doctor, you know a bit about this place and its history yes?"

"A fair bit." Anna exited the back of the truck, "Why?"

"Before they had two freezers in the kitchen, how would the Cerulean Swan keep its produce from rotting?"

"Cellar, I'd imagine. Most of the old buildings in this area have them. Converts to storage and…" Anna joined him at the doors, giving him a smile and a small shove with her elbow. "And serves as a chute to move three bodies."

"I certainly hope she didn't drop them down the hole like they were potatoes." John hauled the doors open and sidestepped a carved slide to take the stairs down into the darkness. "I couldn't abide that."

"Disrespect for the dead is certainly already on display here." Anna's voice followed John as his hand reached a pull cord for a flickering bulb that revealed crates, shelves, and a freezer.

"Let's hope the freezer works. I'd hate to think she stored them in one that doesn't have power." John opened the door and whistled. "Or she simply sold the farm to buy all the ice."

Anna peeked around him and nodded, "There is an admirable level of preparation here."

"And our three bodies." John held the door open as Anna checked for the three. "What can you tell about them from here?"

"That I need to get them back to the morgue so Doctor Clarkson and I can examine them again." Anna crouched next to one of them, shivering slightly at the proximity to an enormous block of ice. "The discoloration of the skin seems to lend to his theory that they were poisoned."

"It's very Rasputin to kill someone twice."

"I believe this was cover-up." Anna stood and exited the freezer, allowing John to close the door. "Someone wanted us to think those people died because they hung themselves or from bullets. The hand in this, however, was one holding a vial of something particularly potent."

"More belladonna?"

"Perhaps but I won't know until I can get them somewhere I can actually inspect them." Anna pointed at the freezer, "I don't like freezing my ass off trying to look at frosting bodies."

"And it would be such a shame to lose that ass." John winked at her, dodging the half-hearted punch Anna aimed for his arm. "Mostly I'm just glad we didn't have to declare this a cold case."

"Would they do that to you?"

"They might." John inspected the space again. "How are you going to remove the bodies now?"

"We've got that convenient freezer truck we'll commandeer and I'll put in a call to some rather large young men with energy to move the bodies."

"Should I guard the freezer or do you want to do that while I make a phone call to get you those burly young men and commandeer your freezer truck?"

"I think the bodies'll be fine down here as long as we're sure that Ms. Braithwaite isn't going to try to steal them again." They ascended the stairs and Anna jumped next to John as Robert entered the alley with a handcuffed woman. "Gods in heaven she does look like me."

"Hence her successfully deception." Robert pointed at his swelling lip. "Gave me a nice little memoir of our dustup in the corridor too."

"I told you," The woman struggled against Robert's hold. "I'm innocent and I've got nothing to say to anyone about anything."

"At least she's educated. None of those double negatives." John pointed down into the cellar. "Found our bodies and we're going to reverse the despicable but futile efforts of Ms. Braithwaite here."

"Well," Robert guided Ms. Braithwaite to the back of the truck and sat her on the steps before breaking a chunk of melting ice to hold to his lip. "Let's not waste time taking her all the way to the station then. I'm sure she can answer some questions right here while we wait for the lovely team from the morgue to come and retrieve the bodies she stole."

"Fine by me." John dragged two wooden crates over, sitting on one while Robert took the other and Anna went inside for a phone. "Did Ms. Baxter find you?"

"About the same time Ms. Parks led me to Ms. Braithwaite here." Robert adjusted his jacket sleeve to better hold the ice against his lip. "It's what led to the dustup. She tried to run when she knew we knew she was in on it."

"Idiots." Ms. Braithwaite muttered and John perked up.

"Sorry?"

"I said 'idiots'." She shook her head at them, "You don't know anything. You're both fools playing cops and robbers in a game you'll never understand."

"Not when you keep using big words." John held up his hand, holding his forefinger and thumb a centimeter apart. "Use smaller ones and go slowly so our brains don't fizzle out."

"She said you're funny."

"Who?" John jerked his thumb back toward the Cerulean. "Ms. Baxter? I didn't even have time to practice my wit on her. And I barely met Ms. Parks."

"Vera." John's spine straightened at the name. "She told me you're funny. Not humorous, although you are a bit that, but funny."

"In a sad way?"

"In a pitiable way." Ms. Braithwaite snorted. "Said you believed in justice and doing good. That's why you're wearing worn out shoes and an old suit and she's living in the lap of luxury."

"Ask her about what else lives in her lap and I'm sure you'd take the worn out suits over the pox she cured with arsenic treatments." John coughed, trying to regain himself. "But that's not the point."

"What is the point, Inspector?"

"Why did you move the bodies?" Robert finally spoke, removing the ice to gingerly feel around his swollen lip before testing the area with his tongue. "What's so special about them?"

"I don't know. I only do what I'm told and I was told this had to be done."

"Very soldierly of you."

"I was in the nursing corps in the war. I know how to do my duty."

"To these kinds of people?" John shook his head, "The kind of people ho desecrate the bodies of the dead?"

"You speak of them as if they were saints."

"Tell me why they're not."

Ms. Braithwaite stared John down a moment before shaking her head. "You'd never really understand the scope of what you're seeing. You're so focused on the minutia of it. The tiny particles of a case you shouldn't even be investigating. Even the tiniest details are outside your ability to comprehend."

"Remember what he said about small words." Robert gestured to John with his elbow while keeping the ice on his lip. "And we've heard this spiel before."

"My partner's right." John shrugged, "We're not here for what we know so tell us something we don't know."

"Something you don't know?" Ms. Braithwaite broke out into a laugh, bending over at the waist with her hands still trapped behind her back. "The list, dear inspectors, is longer than the delivery requests for this restaurant."

"And you're just wasting our time." John stood, nodding at Robert as he left the truck to meet Anna and Ms. Baxter as they emerged from the kitchen. "I hope you both had better luck finding something than we did."

"She doesn't want to talk?"

"She's more into taunting and teasing." John looked to Ms. Baxter. "I hope you've got something."

"Just these." John took the pile of files she handed over, skimming them before nodding to himself. "I've tracked back a few years and found the same kinds of discrepancies that would suggest whatever this is, it started a few months before the war officially ended."

"That's something." John held up the files to Anna. "Maybe your friend could help us sort through some of them. Give us some answers."

"Maybe." Anna shrugged back, "And I've got off the phone with Mr. Moseley. He'll be along shortly to collect the bodies and he's bringing help. We'll have them back to Doctor Clarkson in no time at all."

"Which, I hope, means we'll be out of everyone's hair here." John extended a hand to Ms. Baxter. "Thank you, for your help. And… Rest assured that your secrets, whatever they are, are safe with us."

"Thank you, Inspector." Ms. Baxter exchanged a handshake with Anna before taking a deep breath. "It appears we've a new opening I've now got to fill so if you'll excuse me, I have a job I need to manage."

They waved her off and returned to where Robert continued icing his lip. Anna took one look at him and nodded, "The swelling's going down."

"I had this treatment more than a few times as a child." Robert shared a laugh with her. "News on your end?"

"All good." Anna turned to Ms. Braithwaite and shivered. "It's almost eerie how much you do look like me."

"It proved to be to my advantage."

"Is that why Vera hired you?" John brought Ms. Braithwaite's attention back to him. "Because they wanted a stand-in for Doctor Smith here?"

"For this job, yes, but I've worked for your ex-wife for a long time." Her eyes almost flashed and John swallowed. "But I rather enjoy my work so Ms. O'Brien was always lucky to have me."

'I'm sure you all fit like peas in a rotten pod."

"The pot calls the kettle." Ms. Braithwaite shifted to get a better view of Anna, leaning sideways on the back of the truck to support herself on her bound hands. "Don't think we're not a little aware of what you've done."

"Recently or historically but it's a long list if we've not narrowed down the search parameters." Anna smiled back at Ms. Braithwaite but the other woman did not lose her cool.

"Just know, what I've got to say will go with me to my grave."

"Careful," John held up a finger, wagging it at her. "At least four other people you know have said roughly the same thing and look where you hauled three of those bodies."

"They talked and got sloppy."

"You don't call this sloppy?"

"I call this-"

But she did not finish. A searing pain ripped through John's arm as he ducked sideways, crashing into the crate holding Robert while Anna dived into Ms. Braithwaite. Her weight took both women down and rolled them under the freezer truck as Ms. Braithwaite cried out. Their grunts and moans covered the sound of gunfire pinging off the metal of the truck and the bricks about them as John and Robert rolled for cover on the other side of the truck.

"I'm so fecking tired of getting shot at in this alleyway." Robert tossed the piece of ice away and checked his gun before nodding at John. "And I didn't want to run in these shoes."

"Not sure we've got a choice." John checked his gun and pointed. "I'll draw fire if you try and catch this bastard."

"Why aren't you running?"

"I've got a leg that won't let me." John shoved Robert over, "Go on."

They both took a breath and John spun on his good knee and fire at the source of the bullets. He could hear Robert's shoes slapping the pavement and noted the twitch of someone on the roof above them. All it took was a second to redirect his shots and listen for the cry of pain that echoed from above them.

The hail of bullets stopped and John hurried across the alley to get into the building and try to reach the roof. But when he got there, all he found was Robert holding up an abandoned gun. "Just missed him."

"Nicked him." John pointed to the splatters of blood, following them to the edge of the building before slapping the brick with his hand. "Damn it!"

"Well," Robert tucked his gun away to hold up the rifle. "We've got someone with weapons experience."

"That could be anyone."

"Not with this." John turned to examine the gun again and sucked in his cheeks as Robert explained. "We're looking for a sniper."

"With the way his bullets were going?"

"He got you and Ms. Braithwaite." Robert motioned to the space around them. "And this space, it's a sniper's nest."

"Whoever it is, they've not got a lot of practice."

"Or else they're suffering some other kind of injury." Robert paused, chewing at his bottom lip. "There was…"

"What?"

"That man, a few days ago, who tried to accost Doctor Smith in the phonebooth. I took him back to the station."

"Right."

"He talked about being a sniper." Robert pursed his lips. "I'm going to go back to the station and report on all this. Find out what happened to our mystery man and hopefully get somewhere."

"I'll stay until Mr. Moseley comes for the bodies." John examined the roof again. "And then I need to have a talk to my ex-wife."

"Don't go alone."

"Wouldn't dream of it."