A Flight of Fancy

Being a private investigator means two things. You can be sure you'll run into trouble, and you can never be sure you'll get out of it. Not much you can do about it, I guess, except...

like Joey always says. Walk south, please. Please, a Troy. And now Peter Troy investigates a flight of fancy. Father? Mm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm! Father!

You know, all no statements with the press this morning. Sorry, absolutely no comment. Father, will you listen to me? You come back in a month. No, no, no, maybe two months. Father, this is not the newspapers.

It's me, your daughter. Eee, daughter. Eee, oh, yes, yes, charming. Goodbye, Espeite. Have a good trip. See, boy, it's a bit too good. Oh, my god. I'm not Elspeth. I'm Raya. Elspeth went overseas five years ago.

Eee, you never told me. You saw her off on the ship? We all did. Father, who's that young man outside? Young man, watch young man. If he's from the press icon... He's not from the press.

He says he's your new assistant. Chief of him. Changey backing. Then you didn't engage him as an assistant in the laboratory? No, no, no. I already have an assistant. You're a good man. Then you named Charles.

Charles Barnum. This man says he's Charles Barnum. He does? Even if you didn't boss, I'd keep you down. Then you did engage Charles Barnum to be your assistant. Of course. Oh, yes. He's wonderful. Then you got his barfing keen on flying machines.

Father, you promised we'd just worked together. You and I... anybody else come here to work. Oh, did you not appear to have hands too much? Rumatism in mind, is a dead daughter of mine, baby, baby, yes, after all.