'Nobody move.' A group of Sarkaz kick the doors open, prompting the guests to look around in dismay. The Count's entire ballroom maintains its stoicism as best it can while the head intruder paces, peering around, almost unsure where to start. 'We saw a woman pick something up inside a bookshop just earlier—I said FREEZE! You wanna get killed?' No luck for the white-whiskered Count, barked at the moment he tries to reach for his cane. 'Whole room's playing dumb, huh? Alright, ladies, show me your hats. Who's wearing red?' Heidi clears her throat and stands, then immediately realizes it might be a bad idea and tries to sit back down, but the Sarkaz marches over to her before she can. 'Let's go for a walk.' Heidi stares helplessly at the Count, whose mask shows not a crack. Well. She turns to the Sarkaz. 'Sir, you mustn't treat me so.' 'The hell do you think you are?' 'I'm a novelist,' Heidi huffs with attempted bluster, though her shudders give her away. 'I was just picking up a letter from a reader!' The Sarkaz, paying no attention to her excuse, is busy rifling through every possible hiding place on her—and sure enough finds a letter, its words of gushing praise run by rainblots. 'Well, you've been more cooperative than some. Come with us.' The Sarkaz gestures to the open door. 'You're not going anywhere much worse than this place, anyway.' 'Really?' That takes him aback for a moment, and then he laughs. 'How does someone stupid as you come up with any stories worth writing down? Move!' Heidi again shoots a plea for help at the Count, and this time her limpid eyes sting. Reluctantly, he moves to speak. 'Sir, if I might, you did prove Miss Heidi's innocence. Would you treat her with a broad mind?' 'You vouch for her?' 'I do.' The Sarkaz spits on the floor. 'Promise me all your guests are as stupid as her. Then we'll talk.' Just as a wave of relief passes over the ballroom, Heidi suddenly has her hat set alight. The fright gives way to screaming, and she tries to hoist it off with her cane, but gets nowhere while her ears are fastened firmly inside. As soon as it singes her hair too, she gives up and rushes out through the door. In an instant, the Sarkaz become wary, but all Heidi does is stand outside in the garden, letting the downpour put out the flames atop her head. The sight of it all makes the Sarkaz roar with laughter. After delivering their verdict of 'Stupid AND a scaredy-cat!', they finally leave the premises, and the shaken guests depart in befuddlement. As the last one vanishes, the Count braves the rain to approach Heidi in the garden, and takes off her half-burnt hat for her. 'To think they'd trample on a lady's dignity so... My due apologies, Madam.' 'No, no need. What dignity does one piffling hat even have today, in the rains of Londinium?' It's with some shock that the Count properly regards the rain-soaked novelist, who he thought would be in hysterics over the disgrace he had allowed her to suffer. 'I'm no fool, and you're no coward. You gave them a distraction so that lady in the red hat had a chance to hide the incriminating evidence. And who better to handle the aftermath than me, no?' The shock in his eyes turns to esteem. 'Once again, my apologies, Madam. Not for anything else, but that I had underestimate you. 'No need. I'd like to believe we have some information to share.'