All language subtitles for 1997 - The Pale Horse

The names, Father.

I have them, Mrs. Davis.

Be at rest now.

Indeed, I shall, if that's what you
want.

In nomine glorio se...

In

nomine glorio se... In nomine glorio
se... In nomine

glorio se...

Tooth of wolf, witch's mummy.

Maw and gulf of the raven's salty shark.

Root of hemlock digged in the dark.

Liver of blaspheming jewel, gall of
goat. And slips of you

slithered in the moon's eclipsed nose.

I think you're a birthstack. All right,
it was a mistake. You win.

That's very noble of you, Hermia.

Good, you are noble.

Shh!

Sorry,

I think we'll finish my education in the
pub.

See you tomorrow.

Lovely hair.

It did upset her, losing it.

May I offer you a lift, Father Gorman? I
have my car. Thank you, Doctor.

I've some business to attend to.

I'll walk.

Who touched me bike?

Oi!

What happened?

Don't worry.

It's okay.

I'll get an ambulance.

What? What is it?

What?

And according to our information, this
piece of paper was meant for me.

Father Gorman was bringing it here.

To the police.

Was he? And you tried to stop him.
Someone was trying to. I was about to

the poor sod a hand.

Ormerod. Esketh Du Bois.

Tuckerton.

Are they familiar to you? No. Why should
they be?

Mahmensworth, Sanford, Delafontaine. No.

No?

We're going to find out, so you may as
well tell us. I was in that alley to get

me bike, that's all.

I told you, it was knocked over. How?

I don't know!

You're one of them angry young men, sir.

You're a bit out of date, Inspector.

Now, if you're not charging me... Oh, I
will be.

I intend charging you.

with the murder of Father Patrick
Gorman.

You can?

Very nasty wound on the back of Father
Gorman's head, Mr Easterbrook.

And when we find the murder weapon, and
we will, I reckon I'll have you.

Really, it's outrageous.

You have no right to treat my friend
like this.

I expect it's because he's an artist.

What will happen to him?

If charged, probably have to apply for
bail, miss.

How much?

That's not my decision, miss. Oh, come
on, you must know.

Roughly. Well, two, maybe three hundred
pounds. Is that all?

We'll bring him up straight away.

My car's at the front.

Who do I make a check payable to?

That's not quite how it works, miss.

Why not?

Off you, darling.

Have you gone yet, Hermia?

Donald's here opening up.

I bet he thinks I lost my reputation
last night.

I'll have to put him straight then,
won't I? You're a brute.

We could have been really cosy together
in there.

I told you.

Not ready for cosy.

Don't want to be your low -life
experience.

You're not.

I just thought you might want to rob me
of my virtue.

Yeah, well, I would, only I've got,
like, this murder charge hanging over

There was a man loitering, you thought,
Dr Osborne?

Yes, I'm sorry, I really didn't see him
clearly enough to give you a detailed

description. As I said, there was
someone tallish, slim, wearing a leather

jacket.

And were you present when Mrs Davies
gave Father Gorman a list of names?

No, he was already administering the
last rites when I arrived.

What did Mrs Davies die of, sir?
Pernicious anemia.

If she'd come to see me sooner, I might
have saved her, although she had a weak

constitution, poor diet, she worked too
much overtime.

Not a heavy job, though, is it, doing
market research?

Door -to -door? A grinding one, wouldn't
you say? Dull, without prospects.

And I suspect she'd seen better times.
That's always lowering.

Back to your patients, Doctor.

Thank you for your help. Thank you.

Thanks, sir.

It's too vague, sir. We can't put him in
front of a liner. Well, he gave us a

leather jacket.

I said it'd take us a step closer to
Easterbrook, wouldn't you?

So do you want to go over what happened?

No point.

You don't remember?

Well, you remember some of the names on
the list.

Armour, do you mean?

Esquive Dubois.

Tuckerton?

So what? It means nothing to me.

Little Tuckerton's a pretty uncommon
name, isn't it?

There's a whole bunch of Tuckertons out
at Much Deeping.

I know one of them, actually.

Tilly.

Tilly Tuckerton.

Have you seen my other pearl earrings,
Florence?

No.

Tilly, darling, you're not well. What's
all this about earrings?

I have... to make myself presentable to
visitors.

Look at me.

I'm like a corpse.

Are you strong enough to receive
visitors this year, Dr. Wiley?

Oh, I should think so, Mrs. Tuckerton.

They'll cheer you up, perhaps.

Tilly, darling, pop back into bed.

I want the doctor to examine you while
I'm here.

Fussing. I do try, as stepmother's will,
to be a real mother. Not fussing. Just

sensibly concerned.

I'm sorry you had to cut short your
holiday.

Heavens, that was the least I could do.

George!

I think we've got it sir.

He hit the priest and then he chucked it
up there.

We have some more visitors.

Are you up to it?

Hi, Tilly. How are you?

Darling,

of course. Please come in.

Gosh, you've lost quite a bit of weight,
haven't you?

So would you if you'd survived on orange
juice and pills for ten days.

Kate, this is Kate Mercer, my oldest
friend.

Hermia and, er... Mark Easterbrook.

The sculptor?

Yeah.

I'm in the art business.

Picture restoration. I saw your name in
the catalogue.

Look, I think I'll just go and find a
vase.

I seem to have that effect on people.

Forget it.

Hermia said you wanted to ask me some
questions.

She sounded pretty mysterious.

Yeah, well, you know Hermia.

It's just I was wondering if the name
Ormerod meant anything to you.

Or the name Hesketh Dubois.

No, sorry.

You're sure?

Quite sure.

Well, do you know or have you ever met a
Father Gorman, parish priest at St

Saviour's?

No, why?

Well, there's a connection. The name
Tuckerton, the other names, the priest.

I'm sorry, I wish I could help you. Is
there anything else? Tilly's exhausted.

No.

No. Thanks.

Hope you feel better soon.

It's all settled then.

You'll come for me tomorrow. Let me live
with you in London. Of course.

Shouldn't we wait until you're a little
better? No.

I must get away from here.

Away from the pale horse.

What do you mean, Tilly dear?

It's time for your medicine and your
rest.

Kate, would you mind?

I'm staying at the checkers.

I'll come and see you tomorrow.

We brought nothing into this world, and
it is certain we can carry nothing out.

The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken
away.

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Lord is my chestnut. I said you
shouldn't have come.

He's just the sort of cop who believes
that old chestnut about the murderer

turning up at the victim's funeral.

Listen, I'm in the frame for the priest,
not her.

She died of a virus.

Feels like murder though, doesn't it?

So kind of gruesome.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death, I will fear no

evil. For thou art with me, thy rod and
thy staff comfort me.

Thou shalt prepare a table before me
against them that trouble me.

Thou hast anointed my head with oil and
my cup shall be full.

That thy loving kindness and mercy shall
follow me all the days of my life. I

wish you looked at me like that.

Sorry.

Bad taste.

It was very moving.

Who were they?

Our resident eccentrics.

There's a grey, Sybil Stamford is in
their cook bellow.

The locals call them the Three Witches.

They live together in an old house in
the village called the Pale Horse.

Used to be a coaching inn.

Now, here comes my man.

I need to talk to you.

There was no post -mortem.

And I don't believe the stuff about the
virus.

Well, the doctor was satisfied.

You can't argue with a death
certificate.

Look, I know it's hard to take silly
with your friend. She was convinced

was something wrong.

She was terrified.

She was dying, for God's sake.

She's probably off her head by that
stage.

I know you don't believe that.

Look. You came to Tilly for help, so now
help me find out what's going on.

Help you? I'm in enough trouble as it
is.

I didn't even know Tilly... You came to
her funeral.

I'm sorry, she died.

And yeah, you're right. The family name
was on Gorman's list.

So? There's a connection.

I'm only after the bloke who killed
Father Gorman.

You know what I think?

Find out what happened to Tilly and
you'll get what you were after.

You'll be off the hook.

Time to go, Marky.

Shall I bar out with one of the gang?

Yeah.

One of the gang, why not?

Convince me.

You know who gets all this?

And the Tuckerton money?

Florence, the stepmother.

Because Tilly died before her 21st
birthday, just before.

Well, these things happen.

Tilly's father died five years ago.

Florence was his big mistake.

He picked her up at a casino.

And there's Poppy, Tilly's stepsister.

She isn't just miserable, she's scared
out of her wits.

I thought those two were away when Tilly
started going down.

Tilly was afraid of something here.

Something called the Pale Horse.

The Pale Horse?

Do you know what it means?

I'm staying at the pub.

I'll buy you a drink.

Okay.

Bob, what do we do? Bow?

If he can't tell us about the pale
horse, we'll ask in the village.

Mark Easterbrook, Kate Mercer.

or Claude Farrar.

Nice.

If you take sugar.

You know your paintings, Miss Mercer.

I'm going to sell a lot at auction at
the end of the month.

And I will miss that one the most. I can
see why.

It's a beauty.

Are you susceptible, Mr Easterbrook?

It's a bit decorative for me.

Then we shall have to find something
more to your taste.

For heaven's sake, get a move on.
There's loads to be done.

Hello, can I help you? Excuse me, sir,
we have one search for premises.

What do you mean, search for premises?

Look, this is a private show. What do
you think you're doing? Excuse me,

You can't come in and out like that.

And what

will you do after the sale,

Mr Venables?

Start all over again playing the market?

Maybe go for a couple of Rembrandts this
time?

You disapprove.

Quite right.

So would I in your position.

No.

No more collections.

A new start.

Spain.

Good for the aches and pains, you see.

These old withered legs keep playing me
up.

Polio when I was young.

Miss Mercer?

You are devastated by your friend's
death, aren't you?

Yes, I am.

And troubled.

Tilly died in fear, Mr. Venables. A
morbid fear, I'd say, of the pale horse.

Revelation, chapter 6, verse 8.

And I looked, and behold, a pale horse.

And his name that sat on him was Death.

And Hell followed with him.

As a matter of fact, there is something
that might interest you at the Pale

Horse from a professional standpoint.

There is?

An inn sign dated 1603, from when the
place was an inn.

It's not the finest example of its type.

It has a certain ominous charm worth a
look.

which I'm sure the owners will be only
too pleased to allow.

And they might, at the same time, answer
your questions.

Could we have a reaction, please?

Even a little enthusiasm?

I'll get enthusiastic when the priest
comes into the picture.

Stop the car. What?

Stop the car.

You moved my bike.

You moved it.

We've moved everything, sir.

We do have authorisation.

Show him, Sergeant.

I'll take it as read, sir.

What is this?

I mean, what do you want?

You know, you're going to look pretty
stupid when you check out what I've got

tell you.

As for what we want, sir... Sergeant...
You're a very set of spanners here, sir.

Sure. What about them?

Sir? And a wrench, do you, sir?

Yeah.

Heavy?

High gauge?

Yeah.

Is that it?

Looks like it. Got your fingerprints all
over it, sir.

Okay, so you found me a wrench. What
does that prove?

Nothing in itself.

But along with your fingerprints, we've
identified traces of Father Gorman's

blood.

Just here, sir.

Around the ratchet.

Look, I remember. Listen, I told you. It
should be in my statement.

The bike was knocked over in the fight,
probably.

The fight? Yeah, and some stuff spilled
out on the road, and I picked it up and

rammed it in, but the priest had been
hit in the head by then.

That seems to be the lot, sir.

Okay, let's go.

Listen!

Listen to me!

So, this is the modern stuff, is it,
sir?

My wife wouldn't give it out through...
Look!

There was this bloke in the pub that
night.

Leather jacket, same as me, only he left
first. I've just seen him again, half

an hour ago.

Well, you'd better take me to him, then,
sir.

Well, I can't.

Not now.

I don't know where he is.

Very handy.

Shame you didn't mention this bloke to
me before, sir.

Dinner? You're obsessed, just like that
policeman.

It was just another man in another
jacket.

Why did he run away, then?

I mean, you said there was a link. Find
Father Gorman's killer. We got tillies,

you said.

It was the other way round.

On that pale horse.

Forget it.

Just be panicked, would you, by the
thought of three old bats with account

powers?

I'm going after this leather jacket
character.

Take him out of my heart.

How predictable.

Okay, then what's your line?

I've told you.

I've got a hunch about Poppy, Tilly's
stepsister.

I'll see her tomorrow and make a talk.

And me?

You can't avoid your destiny.

There you have it, Mr.

Eastbrook. The original sign of the pale
horse.

Interesting.

1603, you said?

Yes, but the inn parts of the house date
from much earlier.

Look more closely.

Tell me what you see.

Ah.

Well, I don't know.

Is there a rider in there? Good.

You see it.

We say here that our visitors become the
rider.

Yeah?

That they see, if they see anything at
all, themselves mounted.

Pale horse, pale rider.

Interesting.

Yes, but of course that's only a symbol
of what you've got on your mind.

What do you mean?

I mean that you're not telling the
truth.

We both know what you've really come
here to talk about, Mr.

Easterbrook.

What's going on, Poppy?

Can you tell me? There's nothing to
tell. This rushing off to London.

Selling the house. Mummy has debts,
that's all.

She has a, you know, weakness for
gambling.

Debts? With all this?

She's promised to get help.

What about Tilly's inheritance?

I don't know.

I think there's a mortgage or something.

You're confusing me. What happened to
Tilly, Poppy?

You know what happened.

She died of a virus. The truth.

It is the truth.

Ask Dr. Wiley.

We were in France, Mummy and I. We got
word she was ill. And before you left

France, Tilly told you about the pale
horse.

Didn't she?

Didn't she?

She said something.

I didn't know what she meant.

Truly, I didn't. Poppy, entertaining.

When we're almost on our way. We were
just grieving together, Florence. That's

all. For Tilly.

I'm just leaving.

Our visitor, Sybil.

Mr. Easterbrook, Miss Danfordis.

I saw you at the funeral.

I dare say you saw us.

What does it matter? The point is, he
knows of us.

Are you interested in the occult, Mr
Easterbrook?

Let's just say I'm curious.

Very well, let's just say that, shall
we?

We speak of the great mystery, Bella.

Bella's our cook. She has her own
special powers.

You've heard of our powers.

They are the cause of somewhat
inaccurate rumour among the locals.

I'm not actually local, myself.

Let's not beat about the bush.

Our reputation's gone before us.

What more is it you want of us, Mr.

Easterbrook?

What more have you got?

Hello? Who?

Oh, no, that's my mother.

I'll just get her.

Who is it?

What did you say?

Nothing, Mummy. I... Nothing. Forget the
rest of the things. Get in the car.

But... What? I said get in the car!

Morning, Mr Venables.

Just the patient I want to see.

Good morning, Doctor. Why is that? I was
writing your regular prescription this

morning. Yes, we collected it on the way
in.

Make a mistake with the formula.

In 20 years of practice, I've never made
a mistake, Mr. Venables.

Yes, of course. Please forgive me.

It's just your medication has been
superseded. There are much better drugs

your condition these days. I'm surprised
your Harley Street man hasn't

prescribed one of them. Howarth.

Perhaps you'd like to come and see me. I
could do an examination and suggest

possible alternatives.

Thank you, Doctor.

Sir William Dugdale is the leading
expert in what you are pleased to call

condition. And I shall continue to be
guided by him. Howarth!

What were you looking so pleased about?

Come with me.

I've got something to show you.

The landlord reminded me I didn't sign
the register when I checked in.

So I obliged.

Then and there.

Well, what can I say?

Beautiful writing.

Look at the name on the top of the list.

Oh, Marod.

That was one of the names on... On
Father Gorman's list.

Mr George Ormerod of Aylesbury stayed
here a couple of months ago.

Three pages back, you'll find an entry
for Sir David Hesketh Dubois from

Hastings. Both availing themselves of
the service provided by the pale horse,

imagine.

Which is what, incidentally?

Only little matter of death by auto
-suggestion.

You want someone dead? Easy.

You just work on the death wish that
resides in a soul, and they die.

You mean...

You drive them to suicide.

Please, nothing so crude.

We're talking about the laying on of a
real illness with real symptoms and real

pain, simply by activating the
aforementioned death wish.

And how do you do that?

Well, we start by consulting this
commission agent in London, named

Bradley. They gave me this card.

So, what else are you looking so pleased
about? Poppy tot?

Not much.

But she did confirm Florence was in dire
need of the inheritance.

It proves a motive.

Afternoon.

I was wondering whether we could have a
little chat.

You're obviously aware you're under
surveillance?

Yeah. I noticed.

Why were you at the funeral?

Friend of a friend.

Why were you there?

Tuckerton was one of the names on the
list. The list found on Father Gorman's

body. And that makes me a killer.

And it is your wrench.

Surprise, surprise.

But that doesn't mean you go around
knocking off priests, I agree.

Thanks.

So, you reckon your boss is getting it
wrong with me then? I didn't say that.

But we do seem to be visiting the same
friends of friends.

So what's the deal?

I prefer the word cooperation.

I nailed Father Gorman's killer and I am
up for inspector straight away. My boss

gets it wrong and I am on Plod Street
from here to eternity.

You start.

The six names on that list of Father
Gorman's are all names of people who

died recently, apparently of natural
causes, all of whom left hefty amounts

money, usually to just one or two
relations.

Like Tilly?

I'd say it was a hit list.

And yet there's nothing, absolutely
nothing, to connect those deaths, so far

we know.

I think we might be able to help you
there, Sergeant.

I told you to stay out of sight.

I'm having to move faster than we
planned.

We're mission agent.

Where I come from, we call them bookies.

If you scream, I'll call for the cops.

If I scream, it'll be too late.

A last request?

Just this.

Lincoln Bradley.

That way, sir.

Sir.

Mr.

Bradley.

Ah, my visit.

Ah, you said there was something you
wanted to discuss.

What exactly?

Well, first of all, how much?

You're not one for wasting time, I see.

Well, what's the answer?

That's not the way to go about things.
We must proceed in the proper manner.

Beginning with an introduction.

I don't know your name.

I don't feel like giving it. Yeah?

Then tell me the name of our go
-between.

Who sent you?

Let's just say a friend of a friend.

With an interest in horses, sort of.
Rather, one particular horse.

The pale horse.

I see.

And you want to take advantage of my
services in this respect.

Sorry? A bet, a wager, which I shall
arrange for you.

It's what I do.

Yeah, if that's the drill.

You can bet whether Mrs.

A will live to be a hundred.

Or whether Mrs. B will die before
Christmas.

And you make sure she does die before
Christmas?

Aye. I do nothing but draw up the bet
and collect the state money.

So Miss Thursigrander pals do the rest?

By telepathy? Oh, come on.

Disbelief is the whole point. How in a
court of law could a woman ever be

convicted of causing death by remote
control?

The idea is fantastic.

It's impossible.

But it is impossible.

I know.

Extraordinary thing is, it works.

Father Gorman wasn't killed by remote
control.

His skull was demolished. Father Gorman,
you've got me there, my friend.

I only deal in natural causes.

That's what he said.

And I set the ball rolling with a sail
that's got off by Thursday. Go with the

pale horse.

During which they put voodoo on me.

I'm supposed to nick one of your
personal possessions and take it with me

they can use it to redirect the
emanations.

Redirect the what?

Oh, it's priceless.

Yeah, I know.

Just, I don't feel like laughing.

And how's it help to prove I didn't kill
Gorm?

What kind of personal possession?

No.

No, no, no, no. We're not getting into
this.

It's the only way we'll ever find out
what happens.

I'll tell Corrigan. Make it official. He
can sort it out with the inspector.

And what will the inspector do?

Apprehend three lunatics who offer death
by seance?

He'd have you for murder and wasting
police time.

The killing is real. And you won't be in
the clear until we know the set -up.

Anyway, the police start poking around
and the killer's on his guard.

Or hers.

My way you look like the authentic
client

If

we

do this you'll be the client I'll be the
victim

Worthy. But stupid.

Look, you've done the groundwork. You
saw Bradley.

I bet they're even expecting you back at
the Pale Horse.

I know they are.

I could feel it.

Listen.

Let's say I'm the troublesome wife who's
popped up from your past to mess up

your current affair.

I'm taking you to the cleaners over the
divorce.

And you're...

Wealthy new girlfriends getting restive.

So, you want me dealt with fast.

Oh, God, I'm going to have to go.

You can stay if you like.

From now on, I'm the wife you want to
get rid of.

You've got to start hating me.

And besides, you've got to save yourself
your new love.

Oh, yeah?

Who's that, then?

Permia?

No. No, no, look, we can't involve
Permia.

She wouldn't do it.

I bet she'd do anything for a lark.

Not since I ditched her.

Try her.

Be brave.

Any of these ring a bell, Dr. Osborne?

In a sense, they could all have been the
man I saw.

No, no, sorry.

I had the merest impression, that's all.

Worth a try, anyway.

Oh, of course, you might have stirred a
memory. Impression is deceiving

sometimes. So is there anything else you
can think of, sir? Anything unusual or

untoward? No, I went straight home after
we parted.

Think hard, sir.

Anything at all unusual you may have
noticed?

I don't know. It's difficult.

Patient confidentiality comes into it.

Although, since I'm about to remove him
from my list... Take your time, sir.

I have a patient who claims that his
legs have atrophied because of an attack

polio. I've been his doctor for six
years, but he's never once allowed me to

conduct a full examination.

He relies instead on a repeat
prescription, that's all. A painkiller

prescribed by Sir William Dugdale of
Harley Street.

and one that would have been revised by
any competent physician by now.

I've tried to check with Sir William, so
far without success.

You're saying your patient can walk,
sir, but he pretends to be disabled.

know he can walk. He's a fraud.

And does this have any bearing on our
case?

He enjoys going to the theatre.

To the playhouse?

I can't divulge his name, of course.

I wouldn't dream of asking you to, sir.

like I'm your girlfriend to catch the
cops on the hop.

That's about it, Hermia.

Sounds quite fun.

A little dangerous, too.

I shouldn't, really. Not after the brush
-off you gave me.

Brush -off? I looked away for five
minutes and you'd been pounced on by

stockbroker. Banker, actually.

It's quite nice. It's called Rufus.

And he positively demanded my
reputation.

Terrific.

Not very happy for you.

Though a little competition won't do him
any harm.

We'd better camp out in our guest room.

You think I'm an absolute pushover,
don't you?

Pushover? Not at all.

I just think you're a totally, utterly
reliable.

Looks like our man is called Venables,
sir.

Lives like a country squire and owns an
art collection.

Gives to charity and takes an interest
in local affairs.

Hmm.

Funny bloke, that Osborne.

Maybe you ought to take him seriously,
though.

If this Venables can walk, he could have
nipped out of the theatre.

Well, it takes the heat off Mark
Easterbrook, then, sir.

Easterbrook?

Do you see him and Venables at the
Tuckerton funeral?

Thick as thieves, those two. You mark my
words.

If you say so, sir.

Champagne, Mr. Easterbrook?

I don't think so.

Oh, please.

There is a certain form about these
affairs.

It is rather good.

Now we drink to the success of our
enterprise.

All on your own today.

A bit exposed, aren't you?

Death to your wife.

Death to my wife.

You're too young, if I may say so, to
have a failed marriage behind you.

That was it, being too young.

Yes, one makes these mistakes.

A second time, I hope, you sensibly
marry money.

Yeah.

Miss Hermia Redcliffe, you may have
heard of her father, Lord Redcliffe.

I have.

Wise choice.

We like to be sure that our clients
won't be tempted to avoid paying their

Interesting variation on the usual
pattern.

The money almost always comes to the
client from the deceased.

Shall we make our wager?

I bet you £100 that within two months,
your wife, Mrs Mark Eastbrook,

will be dead.

And I bet you £2 ,000 she won't.

Now, you will vacate your current
address, leaving your wife in residence.

You must stay away.

To maintain your alibi, at least until
the process is underway.

After a leave?

A final visit to the pale horse?

And the deed's as good as done.

Bella!

He will come.

We must prepare.

Certainly I was at the theatre.

And Mark Easterbrook was there too.

He and his charming companion called on
me the other day.

Wanted to have a look at my collection.

Very fine, sir. Some of these paintings?

You a connoisseur, Sergeant?

No, he's not, sir.

He's a policeman.

Now then, Mr. Easterbrook's companion,
sir.

She restores works of art and therefore
has a specialist's interest.

So you're a friend of the Tuckerton
family, sir?

Well, I know them. It's a small place.
There's a certain kind of solidarity.

Yes, yes. It's very tragic, the death,
Mr Venables, and there are circumstances

which touch on the investigations we
have in hand.

Then I hope I've been of some help.

So far, sir. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

There is, however, just one other thing,
sir.

Sergeant.

It is thought in some quarters, sir,
that you're not actually disabled.

That you can, in fact, walk, sir.

In what quarters, Sergeant?

Dr. Osborne, perhaps?

My specialist, Sir William Dugdale, has
been in America.

But he's come back now and I'm...

Sure, he'd be only too pleased to
discuss my case with you.

Hello, husband.

You know what to do.

Keep your distance.

From everyone, right?

Right. Except you.

Okay. I guard her with my life. I sleep
downstairs.

I watch. I pray.

I'm Joe.

And you don't surface till all this is
over.

At least I can catch up with some work.

Have you got the thing?

Our personal position?

What does it do?

Here. No one can hurt me.

I hope you're right.

I should tell the sergeant first. No,
he'd stop us.

Look, you'd better go.

I suppose so.

Look, Donald.

Message received, loud and clear.

I'll be fine.

Yeah, but... Just go.

Hermia will be waiting.

Look, when all this is over... What, at
my funeral?

Perhaps we could.

That would be nice.

Sit, Mr. Easterbrook.

You have brought with you what you were
instructed to bring?

Yes, most suitable.

The physical emanations from the wearer
are very strong.

Sibyl.

You will remain where you are, Mr.
Easterbrook, and be absolutely still. Do

On any account, move from the chair.

We are dealing with forces that are
dangerous.

To those who do not know how to handle
them.

Let us begin.

Are you comfy, Sybil?

Yes, thank you, dear.

What tea?

Donald, I'm fine.

Donald?

Is Mark going to be a successful
sculptor?

That's what I'm banking on.

You'll have to make up your own mind.

I am calm.

I am here.

Hello? Is that you, McCandle?

I am here within.

Are you prepared, McCandle, to submit
yourself to my will and my desire?

I am prepared.

Will you so dedicate this body that
death will pass through it, obeying such

natural laws as may be available to the
receiver?

The dead must be sent to cause death.

It shall be so.

as with all human beings.

Her goal in life is to achieve death.

There is no final satisfaction but
death.

Only death solves all problems. Only
death gives true peace.

Death is the great ecstasy.

Death.

Be easy now.

No.

No, no.

I don't want this.

I don't want it.

Too late now, Mr.

Easterbrook.

It's too late.

Old Mummy and Daddy are getting over a
nervous breakdown and need some

cherishing. Another half hour at the
Pale Horse, the breakdown might be for

real. Darling, was it frightful?

I thought I'd say darling again because
it sounds quite right.

This is where we put guests.

I thought you said a room.

A guest room.

Did I?

I suppose it's more of a wing, really.

I'm back there if you need me.

I know. This is great. I'll be fine.

Not very flattering to a girl, are you?
I am meant to be your fiancée.

It's not that you're not highly
desirable, Hermia. It's just I'd rather

permanently disfigured by some jealous
stockbroker.

Banker.

Dinner's eight.

Papa, pardon me.

That's Venables in the clear.

Been with Sir William for years, sticks
to the same medication because it

happens to suit him. Sir William hadn't
actually seen him, though. For years he

said so.

Don't complicate my life, Sergeant.

Incidentally, what's this about him
being friendly with the Tuckertons?

Well, that's the word in the village,
sir.

I keep coming back to the names on the
list.

Oh, do you?

Well, I keep coming back to our biking
friend.

File on Easterbrook with you.

It's dangerous. You don't know what
you're getting yourself into.

You believe in witchcraft? I believe
people have been knocked off somehow.

The black magics are blind, the bookies
are front man.

You checked on Bradley?

Struck off three years ago, malpractice.

Since then he's been legit, apparently.
Nothing, not even a parking ticket.

No connection with the desk then?

Same with the old bats.

So, us going in on our own is the only
hope?

I still think you should forget it.

Sorry, we're all set.

Right, first sign of any trouble, you're
on to me, okay?

Six murders apart from Father Gorman.

Maybe more.

There's got to be something that links
them.

The nurse who looked after Mrs Hesketh
Dubois said her hair fell out before the

end. It's the same as Mrs Davis,
different causes of death, though.

Encephalitis and, uh, anemia.

I'm doing a bit more on Venables.

Did you see him at the theatre?

I don't know.

If Dr Osborne is right, and he can walk,
there's got to be something there.

Kate? Mark.

Everything okay?

No sign of a hit squad.

What are you doing downstairs?

Oh, for heaven's sake. I came down to
borrow some milk.

You left nothing in the fridge. The deal
was you stayed in the studio.

Any problems?

No.

Except Donald has come over all Mother
Hennish and is driving me mad.

Even now, he's resisting the charms of a
market research lady to keep his eyes

fixed firmly on me.

I think she's quite got the wrong idea
somehow.

Was Tilly's hair falling out before she
died?

I don't know.

She just looked generally so awful.

It's hard to say exactly why. Is it
important?

It could be.

Now, back upstairs.

Take care. I miss you, Mark Easterbrook.

Oh?

Good. Don't sound so cheesed up about
it.

Thanks for coming. I'm so sorry. It's
been awful for you. I don't know what to

do, Kate.

First Jimmy, and now Mummy.

I'm so scared. Come upstairs.

I'll put the kettle on.

Good heavens, no, the old girls would
never let a doctor near them. No, they

have their own remedies, so I hear.

It was Mr Venables who directed me to
what goes on at the Pale Horse, but you

believe him to be a fraud.

Time will sort Mr Venables out.

You don't care for Mr Venables, do you,
Doctor?

I don't know where you got that idea
from, Mr Easterbrook.

Rumour. Gossip. Doesn't matter.

The word is Venables can walk.

That could hardly be proved by me or any
other physician unless he's submitted

to a full examination.

Unless we can make him walk. I'm not
sure what you're getting at.

You and me.

We could have something to gain by
showing him up.

It's my innocence and your professional
reputation at stake.

How about joining forces?

She went out, said she'd be an hour, and
never came back.

I mean, why would she kill herself then,
like that?

I mean, why make such a fuss about
hiding in London if all the time she

was going to... Hiding?

We were hiding in that hotel.

She had debts.

Terrible debts.

But Tilly's inheritance was coming to
her.

I thought all those worries were over.

What's going on, Kate?

I can't say.

Not yet.

Poppy, tell me something.

Did Tilly's hair fall out before she
died?

Yes.

Yes, it was the virus.

Hair loss isn't automatically a feature
of the diseases these women died of,

sir. I've checked.

And I've got an inquiry going into
symptoms shown by the others on Gorman's

list. What are you suggesting, Sergeant?

I'm not sure, sir.

Poison, maybe.

Poison?

Six different doctors pronounced six
different causes of death. None of them

suspicious. And not one of them was
given a post -mortem, sir.

What's all this about Venables?

If you trace back the personal details
he gave us, sir, you end up with a

Venables, originally of Western
Supermare, treated for polio in 1937 at

College Hospital in London.

Well? Well, the records, tax returns,
health insurance, etc., only go up to

1952, when there's an application for a
passport. After that, there's nothing.

Until six years ago.

When the present Mr Venables becomes a
ratepayer...

In the area.

Well, out of the country, possibly,
or... Or?

Or?

Or dead, sir. Dead? It's not unknown for
the identity of a dead man to be taken

on by someone else. Someone else who
wants to keep his own identity quiet.

be ridiculous, Sergeant. That's big
-time crime stuff.

Evening, Mr Venables.

Bit of a cheek to turn up like this, but
I need to talk to you.

No, I'm sorry, it's not convenient at
present.

Not on the move, are you? Not yet.

The collection's been packed and it
makes for a certain disruption

the house. I don't care about the
disruption, I just want to talk. Make an

appointment next time.

You know something, don't you?

About Father Gorman's death. Go away!

Don't play around with something you
know nothing about.

No joy, I take it. None whatsoever,
Thorsay, is rattled.

Right. Shall we rattle him some more?

Howard! My house is full of smoke!

Here I go.

Now.

Got you, Mr. Venables.

It's the bolt from the valve.

Well, I'm glad you're getting somewhere.

When can I get out of here?

Why? What's wrong?

On set of acute boredom, I'm afraid.

I find I'm looking back fondly to the
day we were tested for the gas leak.

That was a real highlight.

Stick with it. At least till we find out
the tie -up with the killings.

Or even if there is one.

Corrigan's on to it.

What's up?

It's nothing.

I'm starting with a cold, I think.

Kate. Now, stop it. I'm fine.

It's just a cold.

I'm coming over.

No.

Don't spoil everything now.

I miss you, though.

Pussy hits on you.

I don't want to be seen going out with
an older man.

We're going out.

Seems inevitable.

What have I got?

They say it's something like septicemia.

Oh, sorry.

I blew it, didn't I?

Hey.

Come on.

Nobody's blaming you.

How is she?

My doctors are working on it.

They kill this sort of thing all the
time.

You know, there was a market researcher
woman in the gallery.

But she was right there in front of me
all the time.

Market researcher? What happened?

Well, nothing.

She just filled in a questionnaire. We
both did.

It was a bit of a laugh, really.

Name? You got the woman's name?

Eileen.

Eileen something. I remember that
because that was my dear mother's name.

You can't remember anything else?

God, no.

Hold on.

She gave me one of those free biros.
Look.

Customer reactions classified. There's a
telephone number.

Formation. Such excitement.

The Tuckerton girl.

I wonder what they hope to find.

Fools. When will they learn?

I hope this is worth it. Poison can be
very difficult to trace.

That will be Venable's art collection
going to the sale room soon.

So he must stick around till... When's
the auction? Friday.

We've got to move if we want him, sir.

Move on what?

Suspicion is always not what it seems.

Well, if he doesn't need a wheelchair
now, he soon will.

And who's that with him?

We know him, don't we?

The bloke in the leather jacket.

Yes, sir.

Get some support, Sergeant.

You go round the back.

I'll go in from the front.

Mr. Venables!

Police!

Open up, sir!

refuse to open us up, we shall enter by
force.

The house is empty, sir. The back door
is open.

All right.

Put a cord there. Put a cord out. Right.
And take this place apart.

Yes, sir.

The man in the leather jacket has now
been confirmed as being Richard Flood,

sir. Went down for a bank job four years
ago. Out about now.

And then who else?

Ned Thackeray and two others never
caught.

Venables and his man.

He's got to stick around, though, ain't
he, Venables?

To collect all the sale of his
paintings.

You did check it was genuine, didn't
you?

Yes, sir. It's advertised. It's a big
event at Sotheby's.

I'd best check against it.

I'll leave Brandon.

Yes. I was told I'd find you around
here. Look, I need to speak to you.

I'm sorry, I'm working.

Oh, please. It's very important.

Please. Give me ten minutes. I'll buy
coffee.

Don't tell me, Sergeant.

Sotheby's say they're still waiting for
delivery of the collection, sir.

It should have arrived yesterday so they
could set it up in time for the sale.

They've phoned Venables, but his phone's
been off the hook, sir.

Off into the wide blue yonder with flood
and thackery.

Maybe not thackery, sir. He's got extra
time inside for bad behaviour. We're

just checking now.

How did you get on to me? I called your
employers.

You don't know who the client was, do
you?

No. This one was done via a post office
box number, apparently.

God knows why.

It's not exactly the stuff the Russians
would want to get their hands on.

So even the boss didn't know who paid
for the information.

Funny business, this market research.

Quite a lot of it's hush -hush.

I suppose the company doesn't mind as
long as the bills get paid.

And Mrs Davies?

Oh, Jessie.

She had her doubts about this one, too.
Said it wasn't set up properly.

Mind you, she went peculiar.

In the end, I think she had delusions.

Maybe it was her illness coming on.

Tell me about her delusions.

She got it into her head that some of
the people we interviewed... Well?

They died.

Suddenly, very soon afterwards.

She thought she was somehow responsible.

You didn't believe her? She went crazy.

I mean, she found a death notice in a
paper about a man called Almarod and

started crying.

Said, he's another one. I was at his
place a few weeks back.

Said she was going to go to the police,
tell them everything she knew, which was

precious little, in my opinion.

I only do the job and take the money.

Nothing else.

You asked Kate, Miss Mercer, which
products she used. What kind were they?

Dental products, hair preparations, soft
drinks, the usual.

I had a few minutes' conversation with
her in that gallery place. That's all.

I didn't even touch her.

Look, there's nothing wrong with a job.

My conscience is clear.

I've got to get on.

Is she going to be all right? Steady on,
sir, steady on. What are you doing for

her?

We've just had the lab reports back from
Miss Tuckerton.

The pattern of decomposition suggests
that there was poison present.

Why can't you get on to it sooner? Six
people have died. Some poisons break

the systems of the body fast, so
infections get in, tumours form, organs

collapse. The victims seem to die of
those conditions. Even the best doctors

wouldn't look any further for the cause
of death.

And what about Kate?

Isolating the poison and matching the
antidote is going to take time.

All that we can do now is wait.

Where is he, then?

You're too nervous, Ricky. That's always
been your problem. That's why you and

Ned got nicked.

Well, you would if you had to spend time
in there, wouldn't you?

Only four years.

Think of all that money you're going to
collect.

Probably about as much as a high court
judge gets paid in four years.

Just feast your thoughts on that, Ricky
boy.

Word gets around.

If you want someone killed, there's
these three old girls with a pale horse

who'll fix it for you.

They put you in touch with Bradley, who
frames a bet, which is how you pay.

All perfectly legal.

And there's this farce with a cockerel's
blood.

They curse whatever's put on the victim.

And when, I mean, if the victim dies, it
looks as if they did it further and co.

Right, except someone else is collecting
the names of potential victims from

Bradley, most likely.

But he'll know who the real killer is.

Not necessarily. Maybe Bradley writes to
a box number and the killer just picks

up the name of whoever he's going to do
next.

Kind of a big production, though, isn't
it?

I mean, where do the market researchers
come in?

Maybe their results go to the same box
number.

Yeah, it's clever.

It's murder by an organisation with the
killer at its head.

The only person who knows what the head
of the organisation does is the head of

the organisation himself.

There's no one to give him away.

But it's mad, too.

He is mad.

Or she.

Yeah. Or she.

Right. It's off to the pale horse for
the boss and me. Not before time, in my

opinion.

I really like Kate.

I wish I didn't, in a way.

I'm desperate for her to make it.

Welcome back, Ned.

Charlie! Long time no see.

Still Mr Venables to you, Ned.

Until we get on the plane anyway.

We going in then, sir?

No, we all need to as a sergeant.

There shall be chaos where there is
certainty.

There shall be blood on every stone.

You are damned.

You are damned in this life forever.

I am a candle.

Right, sling the candle in the back of
the van, boys.

Two down, one to go, sir.

Steady. Don't touch me.

Come on, please tell me what's going on.

You are to come with us down to the
station, Miss Gray.

Who says I am to come?

I do.

Lejeune's the name.

Chief Inspector.

Now, make it easy on yourself, Miss
Gray.

Easy?

But what have I done?

What has any of us done?

We'll talk about that down at the
station.

Not good enough, Chief Inspector. Then
I'll set off a breach of the peace until

I can think of something better.

Now.

Are you walking or do you want lifting?

You vulgar little man.

You can't begin to understand the power
you grapple with.

Horrible place.

Nice work, Sergeant.

Probably worth the promotion.

Thank you, sir.

Just need the link with Venables and
then we're there.

What else are you doing?

No change, essentially.

At least there's no more poison going
in.

If we knew what it was, we might start
pumping in the end state.

Mark, what's the hurry? Still here.

Must be.

What?

Toothpaste, shampoo, soft drinks in the
studio somewhere.

Oh, there's somebody up there. The chap
with the gas ball again.

Are you going to tell me why you've been
faking a disability and an identity, Mr

Venables?

I'll tell you then, sir.

The bank robbery that Ricky Flood and
Ned Thackeray were sent down for was

planned by a far higher life form than
those two.

Clever man.

A big shot in his own way.

Anyway, there were four of them involved
in the robbery and only two got done

for it.

You and your chauffeur were the other
twos, huh?

And while you were waiting for the
others to come out, you invested in

to make your capital grow.

What better way to keep people off the
scent of a bank robber than to have him

in a wheelchair?

Really?

And you planned the Sotheby's sale
business as a front, Friday instead of

when Ned was free.

Then you were all off for the divvy -up.
Those paintings belong to me.

An American consortium bought the entire
collection.

Excellent prices, so there was no need
for a sale.

Sotheby's will be compensated, so I
don't really understand what you're

at.

She found out about your past.

So you finished her off.

Or your friend Bradley did.

Bradley? Was she trying to blackmail
you, sir?

Or was it that she couldn't pay up for
your little sideline, sir?

I have a sideline, do I?

Contract killing.

Remember Miss Tuckerton?

She was a sweet girl.

I was always suspicious about her death.
That's why I appointed our young

friends to the Pale Horse.

I hope you get whoever did it.

Ricky Flood killed the priest for you
because you knew the names on the list

could do for you. Rubbish!

Mr Flood was there because he's a
friend. I promised I'd give him a few

just to help him get on his feet.

I nipped out of the theatre for a few
minutes.

On my feet, of course.

What's the poison?

What's killing Miss Mercer?

Miss Mercer.

I think I'd better ask for my solicitor.

Please help me.

My dear fellow, come inside.

Sit

down

here.

Hold this against the wound.

That's going to need stitches.

Sit still while I get some water.

Then we should call the police.

Tell me what's in it, otherwise you'll
eat it.

No one can deny it was extraordinarily
clever.

A fitting exercise for my considerable
intelligence.

Not even Bradley knew who I was.

All the time those grotesque women
believed they were effecting the deaths.

Had I not been obliged to kill the
priest and Miss Mercer, I should now be

taking my rightful place in society with
money I could have spent...

with far more taste and discretion than
Mr. Venables, who seriously

underestimated my powers.

for Venables and Co. His lawyer's been
in doing a deal.

He could pay back what he lifted from
that bank and still have change from his

investments for a cushy life.

Brilliant. Good old Mark's rating.

We're picking up Bradley and all.

Osborne's ratted on him.

I recommend it all round.

Especially you, Sergeant.

Thank you, sir.

Didn't manage to cut your hair there,
Mr. Eastbrook, when they patched you up.

I wouldn't let him.

Hair's going to be down to here,
Inspector, by the autumn.

Is it really, sir?

And also just after the human race one,
aye, sir?

Still, I owe you an apology.

Well, I'll take it as read, Inspector.

Terrible shock, of course. Osborne
turning out to be a psychopath.

Well, you don't think, do you? You know,
a professional man, a doctor.

Exactly, sir.

Exactly.

Here's my sandwiches, Sergeant.

Cheese and onion. Right, sir.

Enjoy them.

What's that, Sergeant?

Sir?

You wouldn't be losing your hair, would
you?

Where's Donald?

Isn't this a working day?

Disappeared with a headache.

He's a diplomat.

What do we do now?

This.

We have some music, some food, a little
champagne.

We'll take the rest of the day very,
very quietly.

The sort of quietly my doctor would
approve.

Absolutely.