It’s hard to believe that we’re almost at the end of the season, but alas, here we are. Last week, we bid adieu to another friend… or hooroo, as they apparently say in Australia? At least we’ll always have the Hotel St Marc, Detective Mustache! Anyway, though I am personally distressed by this development, we have a case to solve, and childhood trauma to unlock.
Speaking of which: this week’s episode starts in a flashback to the hallowed halls of the girls’ school where Victoria Mars got her education. Or, in this case, a lecture on fitting in and following the rules, which culminates in a mean nun making her write “I am no one special” 100 times. Look, not to quibble with a side character, but Victoria Mars is literally the protagonist here!
Just to prove my point, we head back into the present day just in time to watch our heroine sprint through the nighttime streets, pursued by a scary bad guy with a knife. Very swashbuckler of her, no?
Victoria Mars, cornered: Whatever you think I know, I don’t!
Scary Bad Guy: Unlikely: you’re clearly a snoopy broad who can’t be stopped. And then I found you in my ROOM?
Victoria Mars: Look, I can explain. But not in this dingy alley… at Scotland Yard.
Baby Detective, popping out of the back of a carriage: Hiiiii you’re under arrest!
Victoria Mars: Thanks boys! This guy’s an arsonist, robber, and he also blackmailed my client.
Who’s special now, mean nun? Ahem. Anyway. Our next stop is an empty theater, which is empty because someone’s been murdered in the office upstairs. Baby Detective makes his way up to the scene, where New Guy is already examining the body and finding secret compartments hidden behind mirrors, as one does.
Baby Detective: Hi boss! I almost didn’t believe your message; this guy is a legend! I mean he and his writing partner are only behind Gilbert and Sullivan. I… well, that’s probably not a workplace story.
New Guy: No, tell me.
Baby Detective: I’ve always wondered which job is better in a duo like that. Composer, like our poor victim, or writing stories like his partner.
New Guy: And what did you decide?
Baby Detective: Writer, for sure.
New Guy: Well, speaking of, Writer was the last person seen with Composer, and they were having an argument after the performance. Not long after, Composer was shot.
Baby Detective: You know, there’s been a lot of gossip over the years that they had a turbulent relationship. But that obviously worked for them! I tried so hard to get tickets for tonight’s final performance, but it was sold out 🙁
New Guy: Right. Well, back on track: he was shot, and there’s a glove here covered in blood. Also that mirror safe is empty.
Baby Detective: Robbery?
New Guy: Maybe, or maybe it’s supposed to look like it. Start with Writer: go search his house, then bring him in for questioning. And remember, he’s a suspect, so don’t get all weird.
Unlikely, but I’m sure he’ll try! The next day, New Guy runs into Hardscrabble at the station. This is odd, because Hardscrabble is meant to be enjoying time off.
Hardscrabble: Well, I heard about the murder and thought you might want my help.
New Guy, work-life balance king: Thoughtful, but no. Go home!
Hardscrabble: But this is a high profile, important case, and I’m your most seasoned guy! And if you don’t need me, then why is Victoria Mars here?
New Guy: Ugh. Of course she’s here.
She’s also, once again, in his office unescorted and without permission. She tries to cover that up by mentioning this new juicy case, but without success, so she comes out and says why she’s here (or at least, the fake reason).
Victoria Mars: Accountant is off on a business trip, and he left me with a bunch of unpaid invoices to settle. One of which is, alas, with you. It’s been a month!
New Guy: That’s a job for our accounting department. Bye!
Victoria Mars: … I also heard you’re working on that murder. Sooooo…
New Guy:
Baby Detective, walking in and saving the day: Oh gosh HI! So nice to see you, Victoria Mars!
Victoria Mars: Morning kiddo. And how’s our mutual friend from the start of the episode?
Baby Detective, positively gleeful: On his way to jail right now!
New Guy: Oh, yes, I heard about that. He’s gotten out of our clutches too many times: good job, Baby Detective.
Baby Detective: Oh, I didn’t do much. Victoria Mars basically gift wrapped him for us.
New Guy: Well then I guess good job, Victoria Mars.
Victoria Mars: Thanks!
New Guy: Baby Detective, you’re here, so you must have something to share?
Baby Detective: Writer is here to be interviewed.
Victoria Mars: Writer as in the murder victim’s partner?
New Guy, a bad liar: Nope. I’ll be there soon!
Victoria Mars: I heard you searched Writer’s house. Also, I’ve got a lull, so if you need help…
New Guy: I won’t. Bye!
She leaves pretty graciously after that. Too graciously, but New Guy’s been around long enough that he should know that by now, so it’s on him if he’s gonna just let that go. In any case, he’s got bigger, more famous fish to fry in the form of Writer, who’s exactly as flamboyant as one could hope.
Writer, broad: My FRIEND is DEAD and you’ve dragged me down here to accuse MOI of murder? Rude!
New Guy: We were extremely chill about bringing you in, actually, and that was because you didn’t have an alibi.
Writer: Yeah, but I didn’t kill him!
New Guy: You were the last person to be seen with Composer, and you guys were having a fight.
Writer: Dude, we fought all the time, it’s part of the job. My wife is in the cast and he was criticising her work, as usual.
New Guy: There’s also the thing where we found a glove that matches the one at the scene, and a gun which had recently been fired and is the same caliber as the murder weapon at your place.
Writer, thankfully not somehow channeling Johnny Cochrane: I don’t know how my glove got there, or my gun, but like I said: I went straight home after the fight and stayed there all night.
New Guy: Alone.
Writer: My wife was out partying with the rest of the cast!
New Guy: Any thoughts on what might be missing from the safe?
Writer: No. I can’t think about anything but the fact that my oldest and best friend was horribly murdered! And you think I did it!
New Guy: Sure do! Charging you now: you’re off to Newgate.
Look, I automatically have solidarity for anyone theatrical AND writers, so obviously I think he didn’t do it, just on principle. Which is why it’s such good news that, across town at Victoria Mars’ office, she’s got a visitor: Composer’s Widow, who wants to hire her to prove Writer’s innocence.
Victoria Mars: Woah, what?
Composer’s Widow: Well, he’s not just my husband’s partner: he’s also my lover.
Me:
Composer’s Widow: He’s saying he’s innocent, so he asked me to go to the two biggest agencies in the city. They both refused the case, so here I am.
Victoria Mars: If he’s in Newgate, they must have some very good evidence. It’ll be hard to prove he didn’t do this. Do you think he’s innocent?
Composer’s Widow: I honestly don’t know. But I love him, and if he’s convicted he’ll hang. I need you to keep my involvement in this on the down-low: he’s married, and my husband JUST died.
Victoria Mars: I need all the facts, including his statements. The thing is, he’s not going to be allowed visitors, and even if he was, women aren’t allowed at Newgate. But that’s never stopped me before!
Next stop, Newgate, where Victoria Mars sidles up to a prison guard. The very prison guard, as it happens, who arranged for her to visit Detective Mustache earlier this season. Can he do it again?
Prison Guard: I don’t remember anyone named Detective Mustache.
Victoria Mars: Great waistcoats? Mustachioed? Owes you money?
Prison Guard: Nope! Sorry.
Victoria Mars: Hm, but what if I told your boss about your sideline? Would that do it?
Prison Guard, forming a firm hatred of all PIs: UGH FINE.
Soon thereafter, Victoria Mars sets up shop in the same office commandeered by Detective Mustache to talk with Writer, who can’t give her much more that what he already said to New Guy: he has no clue how his gun and glove ended up at the scene. He does have one additional tidbit, however: Composer had told him that inside the safe was a manuscript for a new operetta. A manuscript which must have been stolen.
Victoria Mars: And why didn’t you tell the police this?
Writer: The manuscript was for Composer’s first solo production. That’s what we argued about; it was a breakup. He was so excited about his piece; some story about a magic mirror. If I’m being honest, he was the real talent, not me. We present as equals, and we worked together well, but he started taking on more and more over time. The better he got, the worse I got. My career would be over without him.
Victoria Mars:
Writer: That face right there is exactly why I didn’t say anything! This only makes me look worse.
Victoria Mars: So you think the thief is also the murderer.
Writer: Yes, and I think they’re trying to frame me.
Victoria Mars: Any idea who that could be?
Writer: That’s why I hired you.
So, that’s not ideal. Also not ideal? Victoria Mars getting spotted leaving the prison by Hardscrabble, who’s quite curious about her presence at Newgate.
Victoria Mars: I’m, uh, doing research into the criminal mind through interviews.
Hardscrabble: Nice try, Mindhunter. I’m leading the investigation into Composer’s murder, and I’m pretty sure you’ve been talking to my suspect. Tell me what you found out.
Victoria Mars: Haven’t you heard of confidentiality?
Hardscrabble: Oooh, so he IS your client! Nice one, me! Anyway, since you told me something I’ll tell YOU this: I went to go talk to Composer’s Widow about his murder, but she wasn’t there, so I talked to her driver instead. He told me that she’d been talking to you, and that’s interesting. Why would you talk to a widow before chatting with her husband’s probable killer?
Victoria Mars: Hang on, are you drunk?
Hardscrabble, drunk: No?
Victoria Mars: Maybe I should talk to New Guy about that…
Hardscrabble: Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.
Look, neither of you is supposed to be here, maybe you should just team up?
Over at the theater, Writer’s wife, who I’ll be calling Primadonna for reasons that I hope are obvious, is throwing a tiny tantrum.
Primadonna: I’m SO stressed! My husband is in jail!
Musician: As he should be! He’s a killer!
Primadonna: How dare you speak to me like that! Come back and apologize!
So that’s all going great. This scene is witnessed by Victoria Mars, who’s here to speak with Primadonna, who really lives up to her name.
Primadonna: I cannot believe he’s hired a private detective instead of getting in touch with his own WIFE. It’s almost as though he hasn’t thought about how this impacts ME, dealing with this horrible thing all on my lonesome! SELFISH!
Victoria Mars: Well. I’m here because your husband says he’s innocent, and if I can prove it, he’ll be back and you won’t be on your lonesome anymore? You were out the night of the murder, right?
Primadonna: We always have a party after the show. He was supposed to join us, but he never showed, and when I got home the cops were in my house and arresting him. I was humiliated! He’s ruined my life. Even in this show — I would have been a FABULOUS shadow queen, and instead I have some BIT part.
Victoria Mars: That guy you were arguing with seems pretty convinced that Writer did this?
Primadonna, zero self-awareness: Oh, ignore him. He’s a no-talent doofus who thinks he’s all that. He’s going to be the WORST at his brother’s funeral… making it all about HIM.
Victoria Mars: Wait, he’s Composer’s brother?
Primadonna: Yeah, and he’s always tried to get his own writing into the shows. But he’s just not good enough. I mean, he’s only our violinist because his brother felt sorry for him. And then he yelled at me!
Victoria Mars: I heard a rumor —
Primadonna: Well it’s not true. I’ve always been faithful to my husband.
Victoria Mars: Uh, no — I heard Composer was working on a solo piece.
Primadonna: LOL, no way. They’ve been partners forever. Impossible.
Outside the theater, Victoria Mars is waylaid by Musician, who’s eager to tell our friend every horrible thing he knows about Writer and Primadonna. Info is info, so Victoria Mars takes him up on it, and off they pop to a bar for a gossip sesh.
Musician: Writer is an arrogant jerk and no one likes him, even his own wife. She also hated my brother, and the feeling was mutual. Composer used to say the only good acting Primadonna ever did was pretending to fall in love with Writer so he’d marry her. I mean, while her husband’s stuck in prison she’s out doing any gig she can get! All she cares about is fame!
Sure, that makes her a diva of the first order. But does it make her a killer? Somehow I doubt it. Anyway, it’s nighttime now, so we’re headed to New Guy’s house, where he’s reading “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” to New Kiddo: a book gifted to him for this very purpose by Victoria Mars! So it probably shouldn’t surprise him that that very lady comes up.
New Guy: Ok, bedtime. You’ve got school in the morning.
New Kiddo: I hate school. Did Victoria Mars also hate school?
New Guy: Uh, why do you know that name?
New Kiddo: Duh, the book inscription. Who is this broad?
New Guy: You met her the other day — she came to the house.
New Kiddo: Oh. Is she a lady cop?
New Guy: Haha, no. Those don’t exist! She’s a private detective.
New Kiddo: Is that allowed?
New Guy: We can’t get into the conflict between Victorian era gender norms and my progressive child-rearing views; the episode runtime won’t allow it. And it’s bedtime. For you, and for Alice.
Somehow I feel this won’t be the last of that conversation. The next day, Victoria Mars just happens to run into New Guy outside Scotland Yard.
Victoria Mars: Fancy meeting you here! Can we talk?
New Guy: Not if you’re hoping for info about the case, since I heard you’re now working for Writer.
Victoria Mars: Look, I don’t know what Hardscrabble told you —
New Guy: He’s not even on the case, he’s on leave. But one of my guys was at the prison and saw you. Not sure how you managed to get in, and honestly, I don’t want to know.
Victoria Mars: Ok yes, I’m working for Writer, but obviously it helps us all to share info.
New Guy: Totally. You first.
Victoria Mars: Hmmm. No thanks. Let’s do this: we can each ask one question, and see where that goes.
New Guy: Fine. Ask away.
Victoria Mars: Can I see the glove and the revolver?
New Guy: No. When you were a kid did you like school?
Victoria Mars:
New Guy: That’s my question. I can ask what I want!
Victoria Mars: I went to a convent school. Teachers were mean, kids were worse. I hated it. Why?
New Guy: No reason. Bye!
Hilarious. And unhelpful to our friend, who’s now running late to a meeting with Composer’s Widow. Once there, she gets right down to business, asking if Composer’s Widow knows anything about the secret solo project her husband was apparently working on.
Composer’s Widow: Really? No, that’s bonkers. I don’t know anything about that.
Victoria Mars: Writer thinks the manuscript was stolen the night of the murder.
Composer’s Widow: I guess that could be true. But they were fighting a LOT. My husband might have just said that out of spite. How was Writer? Can you help him?
Victoria Mars: Given the situation, he’s doing well. And I think so.
Composer’s Widow: I needed good news, thank you. I’m just having a terrible time. Anyway, I had to tell you: I saw a guy outside this morning taking pictures. The maid went to go talk to him, but he vamoosed. I think maybe he’s a journalist? I’m worried he might have found out about my infidelity, and it’d be so horrible if that got out.
Indeed, but I don’t think we need to worry about the news getting out, because when Victoria Mars asks her client to tell her what the photographer looked lik, she pretty much nails a description of none other than Hardscrabble. Victoria Mars obviously heads right over to interrogate her grumpy workplace semi-nemesis. He does NOT invite her inside, but she obviously goes in anyway.
Victoria Mars: So. I hear you’re on leave, and yet you lied and told me you’re working this case. What’s up? Tell me, or I’ll tattle to New Guy.
Hardscrabble:
Victoria Mars: Oh my god, feelings? Are you ok?
No, unfortunately. Here’s the deal: Hardscrabble’s wife left him a few months ago, and took the kids with her to live at her sister’s place. Ever since, he’s been drinking too much to cope, and got kicked out of his apartment as a result. Hardscrabble’s take? This is New Guy’s fault.
Hardscrabble: I’ve been in the force for 20 years. Getting that promotion was the best day of my life. Yes, I know: it was temporary. But I was sure I could turn it into a permanent offer! And then they hired him instead. I started drinking, and then she left.
Victoria Mars: I still don’t get why you’re working this case though.
Hardscrabble: Look, all the higher ups think I’m useless and past my prime. If I can just solve this — maybe find something he missed? There’s a vacancy at another department, and I thought if I did something so high profile, I might be able to get that job. I borrowed the camera from the office to try and get a sense of Composer’s life. But I was drunk, so honestly I have no clue what I got; a couple of the actors, for sure, and his brother. Total waste. Maybe they’re right and I am useless. Ugh, you’re gonna tell New Guy, aren’t you.
Victoria Mars: I’m not gonna tell him. And you ARE respected by your coworkers.
Hardscrabble: Sure, Baby Detective. He likes everyone.
Victoria Mars: Not just him. People don’t always like your VIBE, but nobody’s questioning your skill. And look: maybe just like… chill on the booze? And clean up your place?
Hardscrabble: That’s not my fault! I got robbed! I don’t have much, but they took the camera and the plates. Now I have to replace that, and I’m BROKE.
Why do I feel like this robbery has more to do with the case than either of these two are guessing, reader? No time to ponder that: there’s been another murder. Later that night, New Guy and Baby Detective survey the corpse of Musician, who’s been stabbed. A lot. And, since he has Victoria Mars’ card in his pocket, New Guy heads over to her office for a nice chat.
Victoria Mars: I mean, I guess it’s possible this isn’t connected to his brother’s death, but I kinda doubt it. I think we need to follow that lead.
New Guy: We?
Victoria Mars: Yeah, dummy, we. I told you this was more complicated than you thought it was!
New Guy: I told you so? Really? Can I steal some of your whiskey?
Victoria Mars: Sure. Have the prison hooch. Why did you ask if I liked school?
New Guy: My kid’s having a horrible time at hers. She’s struggling to make friends, and I know some of it is grief, but…
Victoria Mars: Everyone at my school made me feel worthless. Lucky for me, my dad made me feel special when I was at home. You’re clearly a good dad. She’ll be ok. How long since your wife died?
New Guy: Three years. The anniversary was just last week. I hoped this year would be easier… at least my job keeps me busy.
Victoria Mars: Work is a great distraction for sure. And speaking of which, I need to tell you something. My client thinks there was something stolen from Composer’s safe: a new operetta he’d written by himself.
New Guy: Ah. I get why he didn’t say anything, that’s a good motive.
Victoria Mars: Musician thought Primadonna might have murdered Composer and framed her husband. What if he accused her and she killed him too?
New Guy: If she did do it, how would the manuscript help her?
Victoria Mars: She’s uh. VERY invested in getting a good role. She’d do violence for that, for sure.
New Guy: So she steals the manuscript, kills Composer, frames Writer, and plans to put on the show under her own name? Flimsy.
Victoria Mars: These are actors, bro.
Next stop? A cabaret where Primadonna has just wrapped up a performance. She tells them that she was rehearsing during the time of the murder, and that the last time she saw Musician was at a meeting she had with a producer — Musician had the appointment right after hers. Obviously that guy might have a lead, so the next morning, the two head over to his office.
Producer: Victoria Mars, you should act. You got the face for it! Don’t you think, New Guy?
New Guy, ignoring that entirely: Tell us about Musician, please.
Producer: Hm. He thought he was all that, but alas, he was not. He even got his initials engraved on his case in gold! Like anyone would steal that! Seriously, girl, you got cheekbones for days! I could make you a star.
Victoria Mars: You’re adorable. But I have no interest or talent. You met with our victim on Tuesday?
Producer: You’re hot! Who needs talent?
New Guy: OH MY GOD. We’re not here to talk about Victoria Mars’ career, we’re here on a murder investigation! Answer her question!
Producer: Ooh, jealous much? But yes, we met, and he told me had written a new operetta. It was locked in his case like it was government secrets. I assumed it’d be bad as always, but it was amazing. The best thing he’d ever done.
Victoria Mars: Can you tell us about the piece?
Producer: The title needed work, but the music was gorgeous. It was about alchemy and magic: “The Enchanted Mirror.”
Victoria Mars and New Guy:
Producer: You guys dating? I think he likes you.
New Guy:
Outside, they debrief.
New Guy: What a DUMBASS.
Victoria Mars: Mhm. Totally. So: the case?
New Guy: If Musician stole the manuscript, maybe he’s the murderer.
Victoria Mars: But then who killed him?
New Guy: Exactly. Let’s go to his house and look around. UGH I should have arrested that guy.
Victoria Mars: Who?
New Guy: PRODUCER! UGH!
LOL. Over at Musician’s house, they poke around looking for the case, and chat about the challenge of such a one sided sibling rivalry for Musician. New Guy reveals that he has personal experience with the matter, because he has 6 siblings. Reader, do I immediately imagine that he’s one of the Von Trapp children, stuck here in Victorian London due to a time travel mishap? No, why do you ask?
New Guy: Anyway, we get along when I don’t see them.
Me: Hmmm much easier to do that when they’re half a century ahead and in another country, isn’t it?
New Guy, ignoring me: You’re a classic only child though. Independent, ambitious, sometimes need reassurance…
Victoria Mars, sarcastic: Ah yes, you know me so well.
New Guy: Dude, I have a miniature version of you at home. I just wish your dad was still alive so I could get his advice.
Victoria Mars: He’d just tell you you were in for it. Ah: look at this — a camera and undeveloped plates from Scotland Yard. He stole them, and I know who from.
Enter Hardscrabble, who’s not totally sure how to explain why he was taking pictures of a suspect in a case he’s not working.
Victoria Mars, covering: Oh, we’ve been friends for a while. Sometimes he helps me on my investigations. In his free time! For fun!
New Guy: That seems fake, but go on.
Victoria Mars: I needed surveillance, and couldn’t be seen myself.
New Guy: Hm. Is that true?
Victoria Mars, interrupting: The real question is why Musician would steal the pictures. He must have followed Hardscrabble home, but that’s a big risk.
Just then, a constable arrives with the developed photographs. Not only did they turn out pretty good (well done, Hardscrabble!) they seem to have captured the murderer: Composer’s Widow. Here’s the deal: in one of the pictures she’s holding the violin case. Our friends think she took it because she knew it had her husband’s manuscript inside: a manuscript she claimed not to know about.
New Guy: That’s why you fought with Musician; he wanted it back.
Composer’s Widow: I didn’t know about the manuscript. Promise! Search the house, you won’t find it.
Victoria Mars: I wouldn’t be so sure. The police brought everything over from Composer’s office… including this mirror with the hidden safe, which I will now unlock.
Composer’s Widow: Fine. I knew about it. But it’s not a crime to get my own property back, and as the wife, I inherited that.
Victoria Mars: Yeah, but it is a crime to do a murder.
Composer’s Widow: If I was the murderer, why would I hire you?
Victoria Mars: Yeah, funny story: you told me you only came to me after two other agencies turned you down. But we talked to them, and they never met with you.
New Guy: You didn’t even try to go to one of the big dogs with all the resources; you wanted Writer to stay guilty. You underestimated Victoria Mars, and now you’re paying the price.
Sure did! Later, in interrogation, they ask why Composer’s Widow wanted to frame Writer. Apparently, this was an even messier situation than we knew: Writer was cheating on her, and she got tired of both men. She’d hoped to get rid of them both, and then after enough time had passed, she’d “find” the manuscript, produce it, and get all the attention to herself. Musician was only in the crosshairs because he’d taken the manuscript before she had a chance to do it herself.
Later, Victoria Mars meets with Writer in the prison warden’s office to give him the update.
Writer: Yeah, I did care about her, but I’ll be real: most of the attraction was because she was married to my friend turned rival. I guess it was my revenge. And boy did we both pay the price for that.
Victoria Mars: What will you do now?
Writer: Well, first I need a drink.
Victoria Mars, unlocking the desk with the secret key Detective Mustache found: I can actually help with that!
She’s got it all, friends! Meanwhile, over at New Guy’s house, New Kiddo doesn’t seem to be enjoying story time as much as usual.
New Kiddo: The kids at school were mean to me again.
New Guy: What happened?
New Kiddo: They don’t believe Victoria Mars is real.
New Guy: Honestly, same sometimes. But who cares what they think! They’re foolish. She’s real.
“Real hot,” methinks the internal dialogue continues, but that’s only a guess. It might also be “real annoying” because the next day, she’s once again barging into his office with only a vague courtesy knock.
New Guy: Hi. I got accounting to cut you that check. Also: are you free later?
Victoria Mars: Uh. Later?
New Guy: This afternoon.
Victoria Mars: So not at dinner time. Gotcha. Yeah, I’m around.
New Guy: Great. I have a favor to ask.
You guessed it: he wants to bring New Kiddo over to provide proof that our friend is indeed real, and a real private detective. Adorable! But I’m ALSO interested in circling back to the part where Victoria Mars seemed, perhaps, disappointed that a certain someone wasn’t inquiring about her evening plans. We all saw that, right? Either way, answers will have to wait for next week’s season finale. See you then!
