Blinded by complete distrust for the pooper-scooper of the aristocrats, an obscure detective named Sir Winchester, the Viscountessis taken to desperate measures as she suspects the Lady Ghostbaneto be the proprietor of these foul animates, and a threat to the noblewoman’s good name.
After convincing the Rose of London, who has hitherto been supplying the Viscountess with every ounce of gossip she can rest her pale hands upon, to collect a cadavar and meet the Viscountess at a hotel. Not knowing exactly what to expect, the Viscountess orders the courtisan to spread out the corpse on the hotel’s floor, as Her Ladyship mimics a strange “hole” in the wall, similar to those found at the properties of Lady Ghostbane. In short, Her Ladyship aimed to replicate a crime scene so as to lead the detective into a little mouse trap.
Completely oblivious to the fact at hand, The Rose of London blindly agrees to faint at the site of the corpse when the Detective arrives. And when he arrives, she does just that; however, as the gentleman is helping the lady to her feet, he hears the click of loaded revolver just behind his head. The Viscountess issues a laugh, “Sit down! Over there!”
And he does, quite doe-eyed and lost. Over and over again, the Viscountess threatens to shoot the man if he does not name the villian whose name is covering up, the villian who was puppeteering the animates and sending them to the Ghostbane properties. Silently suspecting Lady Ghost Bane is behind the matter herself, trying to frame the Viscountess for this evil monstrocity, she tries to shoot the detective. However, before her finger could pull the trigger, the Rose of London distracts the Viscountess by claiming her insane; seizing the opportunity, the detective wrestles Her Ladyship into handcups and quietly extracts her from the hotel with a pillow case over her head.
Later, the Viscoutness wakes in a white cell with iron bars for window shutters. Her maid, Hilda, is there as well, immediately tending to the noblewoman’s hair, as the woman herself issues shrieks of innocence and barks of vindication for the dubious detective. And the sun sets with the Viscountess sleeping unsoundly within the walls of the Ryloth Institute.
London considers the Viscountess to be “taking a rest” from the burdens and tediums of being a husbandless homeowner. Only the Viscountess, The Rose, and the Detective are aware of the events that ensued within that hotel room…