Police: I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you, sir but I'm gonna have to put this on you.
Thomas Rotheram: Mr. Holmes, apologies for summoning you like this. I'm sure it's quite a mystery as to where you are and who I am.
Holmes: As to where I am...I was, admittedly, lost for a moment between Charing Cross and Holborn. But I was saved by the bread shop on Saffron Hill...the only baker to use a certain French glaze on their loaves ... a Brittany sage. The carriage forked left, then right, a telltale bump over the Fleet Conduit. And as to who you are, that took every ounce of my not inconsiderable experience. The letters on your desk are addressed to Sir Thomas Rotheram. Lord Chief Justice, that'd be your official title. Who you really are is, of course, another matter entirely. Judging by the sacred ox on your ring, you're the head of the Temple of the Four Orders in whose headquarters we now sit on the northwest corner of St. James's Square, I think. As to the mystery, the only mystery is why you bothered to blindfold me at all.
Thomas Rotheram: Yes, well, standard procedure, I suppose.
Standish: I daresay we have the right man, gentlemen. Sherlock Holmes, Ambassador Standish from America and Lord Coward, the home secretary.
Coward: I suppose you already have some notion as to the practices of our order.
Holmes: Yes. Um...They're practically interesting.
Thomas Rotheram: Be as skeptical as you like. But our secret systems have steered the world towards good for centuries. The danger is they can also be used for more nefarious purposes.
Coward: What some call the dark arts, or practical magic.
Standish: We know you don't believe in magic, Mr. Holmes. We don't expect you to share our faith, merely our fears.
Holmes: Fear is the more infectious condition. In this instance, fear of your own child. Blackwood is your son. You have the same irises, a rare dark green with diamond-shaped hazel flecks together with identicalouter ears, which are only passed down through bloodline which makes you either brothers or, in this case, more likely, father and son.
Thomas Rotheram: Very few people are privy to that information and we want to keep it that way. He was conceived during one of our rituals. His mother wasn't my wife, but she shared our beliefs. She was a powerful practitioner though not enough to survive giving birth to him. Death followed him wherever he went. Those five girls were not the first to be butchered. He killed many more, using them to enhance his powers. No one could prove anything, of course, but we all knew. The boy was a curse. We've done our best to stop him, but it's not enough.
Coward: His power grows daily. His resurrection is evidence of that. But what he does next will be more dangerous.
Thomas Rotheram: His secret lies in the book of spells. This is the source of his power. He's gonna raise a force that will alter the course of world. We want you to find him and stop him before he does.
Coward: We'll give you any assistance that we can. As home secretary, I have considerable influence over the police.
Holmes: Hm, yes.
Coward: So, name your price.
Holmes: The benefit of being a consulting detective is that I can pick and choose my clients. So consider it done, I'll stop him. But not for you. And certainly not for a price. I do have a parting query, Sir Thomas.
Thomas Rotheram: What is that?
Holmes: If the rest of his family's dead, how long do you expect to survive? Food for thought.