All language subtitles for the_avengers_s03e18_mandrake

He therefore commit his body to the
ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes,

to dust. He store and serve the hope of
the resurrection to eternal life through

our Lord Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Who's that man?

I never saw him before.

You know him?

No, must be local.

Quite satisfied, Mr. Benson.

Absolutely. You've handled everything
splendidly. Splendid.

Words can't express... No, we don't take
testimonials.

I'm delighted.

It all went like clockwork. And this is
farewell.

Thank you once more.

Thank you, Doctor.

Thank you, Mr. Benson.

Ah.

One last word. I know.

Utter secrecy.

You needn't worry.

I'm glad. You see, the contracts won't
be destroyed for three months. Gives us

move of cover.

Goodbye.

There's another sucker loose on the
world. He won't be able to spend the

fast enough.

Let's watch his blood pressure. It's
high for a young man.

You want a drink?

Why not?

Well, it's only national health.

Four -star Napoleon.

Well, here's to instant death.

What's the matter?

Well, the Hippocratic Oath, the life so
short, the craft so long to learn.

Well, the strength of the short life.

Oh, I see you took my advice.

They do a good smoke, these people.

Should do a 12 and 6 a throw.

Roy? Yeah?

I've been thinking.

We've completed nine cases. We've done
very well for ourselves.

Very well indeed.

I think we should call it a day.

You do?

Yes. Get out while you can.

The more you have, the more you want.

What you mean, Doctor, is that the rolls
on the meter outside is paid for.

There's a hefty balance in the bank, and
you'd rather be in Scotland Salmon.

Yes, I mean like that. A lot like it.
When I came to you with my scheme, the

shingle outside your door was a lot
tattier than it is today. Well, that was

only a temporary... Oh, come on, Doctor,
don't let's fool ourselves.

Another year and you'd have been
finished in London. Never.

I spent three months looking for the
right man.

A doctor whose plight was greater than
his professional honour. I found you.

Yes, but it's almost impossible to keep
up to date. I mean to say, I've tried.

I've read articles.

It's not the same. As you say, we've
done quite nicely. Well, Doctor, I'm not

ready to quit.

Perhaps my ambitions have more appetite
than yours. But we've had enough to live

in luxury for the rest of our lives.

Still, another 20 ,000 a year shouldn't
be so...

Unacceptable.

Is there another client?

There is.

Male or female?

An aspiring widow, age 43, but looks a
lot younger.

So what's the matter now?

Carada Marble. It was presented to me by
the hospital in Glasgow for services to

medicine.

Name, Turner.

Husband's age, 48.

Name's Arthur George William.

Just a minute, if you mind. Not quite as
fast as that. Name, Turner.

Husband's age, 48.

Name's Arthur George William.

Address, the Grove's Hemel Hempley.

Oh, go away.

Fire. What?

Where?

What do you want?

A chat?

Oh, any party?

An evening with the YWCA.

Us. Oh, sit down if you can.

And what can I do for you, Spock? I came
to talk to you about your father.

Too late, my friend. He's dead.

That's just what I want to talk about.

Who are you?

A friend of the family.

I remember seeing you at the funeral.

Wasn't it cold?

You don't have a match, do you? Sorry?

Keep talking. I'm with you. What did he
die of?

Heart. Coronary. How did he come to be
buried in Cornwall?

My mother was Cornish.

Sounds schmaltzy, I know, but it was
there in the will.

There's sentiment in all of this, you
see.

Ah, that's better.

The world's too harsh, lest you see it
through tobacco's mouth. Have you been

ill for long?

Oh, off and on. Ever since you retired.

Used to be in, uh, what do you call it?

Security executive. I can see you don't
believe in a long morning.

No, I don't.

It's a nice game.

When do I get a turn with the... Help
yourself.

Help yourself. Who are you? What are you
doing here?

What's the point of it? My name is
Steed. I came to see you, and I'm

in your father's death.

Professionally or personally?

That depends.

Well done.

On your answers.

What's your interest?

I used to work there. So?

Well, you and a few scrapes together,
Berlin, one or two other places. Ah,

going to be another war story.

No, it isn't, no.

How much? How much do you want?

Not to worry, it's one of ours.

What is it? The old comrade's fund?

Bed socks for the veterans?

Your father gave me a letter.

What did it say? I haven't opened it
yet. Why not?

It was only to be opened unless he died
a violent or a sudden death.

Why, he'd give it to you.

I told you. We were in a few scrapes
together.

This was no violent death.

He was in his own bed. And it was
sudden.

No.

No, as a matter of fact, it's a marvel
the old boy lasted as long as he did.

Well, everyone knew he was going home.
Everyone. The doctor.

Well, he even knew himself.

He was punch drunk with coronaries.

He must have had a heart like a bull.

He was strong.

Well, you know that. It took a lot to
kill him.

That old man was tough.

He was only 64.

I served with him and I'm not
Methuselah.

Well, it wasn't sudden.

Should have seen the doctor's bills.

Put them end to end and the maze we went
through. The tombs of them. Who nursed

him? At the end.

I did.

That's why I had this blind.

Hangs over you, doesn't it, Beth?

The machinery of it.

Throwing out the medicine bottles and
the boxes of pills.

Pajamas. Ah, sick.

Oh, Mr.

Steed.

What about this letter?

What about it?

What will you do?

I'll call the bank.

Yes.

And I'll tell them to destroy it. After
all, we don't want to upset you anymore,

do we?

No. No, I don't want to see it.

Destroy it. That's good enough for me.

I think you can get something back in
the empties.

Thanks.

Keep talking, I'm with you.

What did he die of?

Heart, coronary.

Why was he buried in Cornwall?

My mother was Cornish. It sounds
schmaltzy, I know, but it was there in

will. A sentiment in all of us, you see.

Young Benson's father had no more
affection for his wife than I have for

Jolly Dick Jawsnapper there.

How do you know?

He booked her everywhere in dicey
airlines.

He used to permutate for the next air
disaster.

Happy family.

If there was fog in the air, Mrs. Benson
was in the air.

Then there's no truth in his story.

Not that part of it.

Well, there's no sentiment in security.

That I know.

Where were you carrying this?

In my pocket. I had the microphone lead
led up to my scarf.

Well, your old boss has come to a sudden
end. I don't see if there's anything

you can do about it. Oh, I'm not too
sure of it. Young Benson looked pretty

when I left him. Oh, thank you for the
cream.

I take it the Swiss cherry jam.

Thin brown bread and Indian tea.

And at about a quarter past four... Do
you?

I like it for breakfast.

Wait, Diana.

Joey, a king penguin, a dead in Brazil,
spent 56 days trying to incubate a

current farm.

I'm sorry.

Oh, really?

Notice of a funeral service at Tinby.
That's the place you went to? Uh -huh.

2 p .m., funeral service, Church of St.
Auburn, Tinby. No flowers.

And the same again.

And the same again. All within the past
three months.

But people do die.

But Tinby is a ghost village.

You mean nobody lives there?

I'd use a supporter.

A tin mine.

A tin mine went out of action eight
years ago and all the villages have

Bodmin. Must have a strong attraction
for corpses.

So strong that people die in London and
are transported off to Cornwall.

Why?

He quizzed me, up one side and down the
other. Well, don't worry.

It's easy for you to say that. It wasn't
you he was talking to. He's probably

nosy. That's one version.

What if he were on business?

Whose business? Anyway, it doesn't
matter. You've got nothing to bother

And if they exhume the body? They won't.
If they do? They'll find nothing. But

I've written a paper somewhere... It
doesn't matter what you read. They'll

nothing. Now, forget all about it and go
home. Now, don't give me the brush off.

This cost me a packet of money. You got
what you wanted, didn't you? Now, go on.

Off you go. I didn't want the law
breathing down my neck.

No sense in being the richest man in
prison. You won't be. We're specialists

this field.

Remember one thing, Doctor.

The medical council wouldn't approve.

Yes, but while we're reminding ourselves
of the obvious, don't forget we have a

contract signed by you.

I wouldn't do anything rash.

Morning.

Morning. A tourist in Tinby this time of
year? Surely not.

No, it's a job of work.

Vicar?

Wiper. Adrian Wiper. How do you do? How
do you do? Job of work? Yes, I'm writing

an article for an American magazine on
the English country churchyard. You

mind, do you? My dear lady, of course
not. Which my brother Julian, you should

see, he wrote a paper on it. What do you
call it? A thesis.

When we were up at Oxford, I rode behind
him in the vast gate.

Fine oarsman, Julian.

Where do I find him? Ah, where indeed?

Somewhere up the Congo.

Missionary. Stranger in a strange land.

Yes, I know the feeling.

You don't know Cornwall? Not well, no.

Where are you staying?

The White Bear.

Oh, good choice. Capital.

Have you been up to the minstrels'
gallery?

Not yet.

Oh, you must.

And you must try their ale.

Rude on the premises.

Wine is a mocker.

Oh, moderation in all things.

Total abstinence is easier than perfect
moderation.

Oh, I don't know that one.

No, you've got me there.

St. Augustine. Oh, yes, of course.

Multiquidem Facilius, etc.

I shouldn't worry with these new stones.
It's the old ones that have all the

character. These are only piece, perfect
piece, linted into rest.

Very, uh, unimaginative.

There used to be one in Penryn.

Now, how did it go?

Here lies, returned to play, Miss
Arabella Young.

who, upon the 1st of May, began to hold
her tongue.

Great sense of humour, your Cornishman.

Yes.

Is there anything particular and
personal to your own graveyard?

Oh, yes, there's something you can
mention. Just here by the lich gate,

used to be a mandrake root.

Mandrake? Mandrake are a drug? Yes,
that's right. Mysterious plants, no end

properties. It was supposed to shriek if
you touched it. And pull it up, and it

groaned like a dying man. Should be good
for a paragraph.

Yes, we've got an awful lot of deadly
nightshade.

Must be something to do with the soil.

Have you been as far as the lizard?

Not yet. Nice little story for you. When
they built the first lighthouse in

1619, all the locals were up in arms.

Said they'd lost God's grace.

What do they mean by that?

They're pickings from the ships that
would have been wrecked on the cliffs.

God's grace indeed.

That's grim.

Very. Come, let me show you the church.
I haven't done my grand tour for years.

Yes, I'd love to see it. Perhaps I might
even be able to sell you an illustrated

history.

Proceeds to Congo relief.

Yes, there's been a wiper here ever
since Queen Anne.

I lost two brothers in the Great War.

Lost a lot of fine men.

Senseless carnage.

Freddie was chaplain at Passchendaele.
He knew Woodbine Willie.

Did he? Alan died with the Canadians at
Vimy Ridge.

Vicar? Yes, my dear. Who's buried here
now? I mean, now that the village is

gone. Oh, not many, you know. Just a few
who were born in Tinby.

They'd like to be brought back.

Really, then?

It's only locals?

Oh, no. We do get the odds sold from
places like London.

Seems a long way to come.

It's a long journey.

Quite. But it must be very expensive.

Oh, I don't know. It's probably cheaper
to be buried in the country.

I haven't been into the economics of it.

I look at it like this.

If you lived in a city all your life,
all that noise and bustle, you've earned

little piece, perfect piece.

Yes, I suppose you're right.

Hello. Who's this?

I say, we're getting quite congested.

Why, Hopkins, my dear fellow, how nice
to see you. How are you? Fine, fine,

Vicar. I'd like you to meet Mrs. Turner.

How do you do? How do you do?

This is... Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry, I
don't know your name. Mrs. Gale. Mrs.

Gale. Mrs. Gale, Mrs... Turner.

Turner, Mr. Hopkins. How do you do?

Will you excuse me, Vicar? I've got work
to do and the sun's very precious. Why,

yes, of course. Excuse me.

Bit of a writer.

St. Augustine. I won't forget.

Oh, right.

Nice girl.

Vicar, I want you to see if there's
anything you can do for Mrs. Turner.

Well, I'd be delighted.

Mrs. Turner is arriving at the end of a
long and comfortless journey.

Oh? It's my husband, Vicar.

He's dying.

Oh, I'm so sorry. It could literally
happen any minute. This is the first

Mrs. Turner has left his side for a
week. Ah, a virtuous woman is a crown to

husband. Her price is far above rubies.
When it happens, when, she'd like him to

be interred at Tinder.

Yes, of course.

He is a man of the country.

In spirit.

Yes, in spirit.

Oh, well, excuse me a moment.

Font of his garden, wasn't it?

Of course, you can't say exactly when
it'll be. No. I'd say Saturday.

Then or thereabouts.

Oh, dear.

Well, we'll step outside in a moment. I
do have one very beautiful plot just by

the west wall. Very sheltered. Gets the
noon sun in winter.

The first crocuses come up there.

I had thought of it for Julian, my
brother.

Oh, it sounds perfect.

Well, I'll just take some particulars.

A bit late to take their pictures, isn't
it?

Depends what for.

What was she doing?

Taking photos of them headstones.

Can't be bad. Can it be?

Well, shine your spade up. We're in
business.

So soon?

The vicar will tell you about it. You've
got the number. Ring me if anything

happens. Trust me, guv.

So, couldn't be me some dread eels or
something.

Savalois. It's his local grub. It's
killing me.

If he comes snooping round again, we
might have to take steps.

Make it a double booking.

Now, Mrs. Turner, we'd like to recap on
a few of the more personal questions.

Any idea as to the present size of your
husband's estate?

About 200 ,000.

Net?

Mm -hmm.

Any other living relative besides
yourself?

I've checked. One sister.

A sister? She lives in Perth. Perth in
Scotland?

Perth, Western Australia.

Ah. And she's bedridden.

Arthritis. Nice to complain.

What about clothes, friend?

We don't have any. Think carefully now.

I don't need to. My husband didn't make
friends or influence people. He just

made money.

Any other beneficiaries in the will?

No.

Insurance? He always said his business
was his insurance.

Now, most important of all, when did he
last see a doctor?

About 1950.

He had his appendix on. You sure he
hasn't seen one since?

He's an apple a day man, a throwback to
Adam.

Without any of Adam's more interesting
characteristics.

He's not on any doctor's panel.

No, the appendix business was before we
moved. Is he the member of a club?

No. You understand we have to be very
careful.

Of course.

Doctor? I'm happy if you are.

Well, I think we can help you, Mrs.
Turner, if you still want to go ahead.

Thank you.

You realize, of course, you'll have to
do exactly as we say. Your neck may

depend upon it. I know.

It'd be a shame for those pearls to lose
such a nice home.

Wouldn't it? Now, first, sort it, detail
money. We'd like a check.

Now? Would you like to sit here, Mrs.
Turner?

Who do I make it out to?

Mandrake Investments, 5 ,000 pounds. The
other half is due after the ceremony.

You don't stint yourselves.

It's a very exclusive service.

Did Wiper find a suitable plot? Most
accommodating, that man.

Sheltered position, gets the noon sun.

We're saving it for his brother, Julian.
That's awfully good.

Thank you.

Now, what happens?

No color, no taste, no smell. Three in
one. The instructions are on the bottle,

which we want back.

Take precaution.

How long does it take?

30 minutes to an hour.

Seldom more than 30 minutes.

How much do I use? All of it. It's a
fatal dose.

And what are the symptoms?

Intense thirst, stomach cramp, vomiting.

But it'll all be over very quickly.

A feeble, irregular, pulse, cold...
Doctor, this is not a medical lecture.

when it starts, I call for you.

Correct. I shall do everything that I
can. But alas, you'll be too late.

From then on, everything goes like
clockwork.

Very well.

Goodbye, Mr. Hopkins. Goodbye, Mrs.
Donoghue. Thank you, Doctor.

Not at all.

Uh, going cropping today?

Yes, I thought I might.

I'd like.

I'll think about it.

Well, perhaps this may be the last one
after all. I wouldn't bank on it.

She'll see through you soon enough.

Now you stick to medicine, Doctor.

for a still life.

Yes, I took it at a two -fiftieth at 5
.6.

Fairly well, each to his own exposure.

Don't do that.

Why not? I feel like a projectionist.

Oh, Montgomery always did it.

So?

They do a rattling good trade down
there, eh? Not bad for a ghost village.

But wasting your time, General.

Why? There aren't any more.

Oh, house lights.

Well, how many were there?

Oh, the eleven you... Ah, nine are in
who's who, and seven of them left

of over a hundred thousand pounds. But
the majority of them are rich and

reasonably eminent.

At some stage of their lives.

Can you find out who were their doctors?

Which I knew.

Who was, um, young Benson's doctor?

That's next on the agenda.

Young Benson, he dealt with it off to
McCombie. How do you know?

I had him followed. He went off like a
shark.

Does he know you're on to him? He will
when I'm ready.

Odd, though, wasn't it, about that
Cockney gravedigger? Was it obviously a

recent import?

Oh, did you find out about that man I
met down there? Roy Hopkins?

Was his car registration a London one?

Yep. There are only two Roy Hopkins in
the phone book. One is an accountant and

the other runs a cracker factory.

don't bother.

Oh, my. Sis, my goodness.

Well, the customer's always right, thank
you.

No, no, you keep your flag on the
summit.

I'll follow up with the ponies, I mean.

Did I hurt you? No, no, it's only a
flesh wound. Come on, confidence.

Only a few. Oh, it's no use.

I've got till next Christmas to clear
them up anyway.

I'm delighted to hear it. How do you do?
How do you do?

Yeah, I think it's my turn to insist
now.

Really? Yeah.

Ham and cheese and tomato.

Wow. Mustard? Of course.

French? Was there any other?

Enchante, mademoiselle.

Can I help you?

Mr. Hopkins in?

No, he's lunching with some Japanese
businessmen.

They make the goodies that go in the
crackers.

Oh, the little master's a miniature.

Hey, what have you got in season, eh?

Here.

For piping the puddings aboard.

Hey, careful.

Oh, very good on an X -ray plate.

Yeah, well, we don't want them into the
very young. I sure don't. The

Chancellor's balloon prevents inflation.

Look, I really want to order three dozen
boxes of crackers for an old folks'

anniversary. Oh, hey, they mustn't crack
too loud.

Of course not. We have the most discreet
crackers in the business.

Try this for size.

Strength C.

D is softer.

Oh, dear.

Let's see if I can try a B. Yes.

Allow me, madame.

Oh, thank you.

Ah.

What's up?

Ah, that looks bad.

Oh, marvellous.

That's very good indeed.

It'll do really fine. The old folks will
love that. I'll have three dozen boxes.

Right.

Has Hopkins got an office around here?

Uh, yeah.

First floor.

Are you around all the time?

Oh, some of the time. He's not exactly
wed into the business.

No? No. He inherited it. His uncle died
last year.

Where is that?

Cornwall. What a fatal part of the
country.

Of course, he'd sell up tomorrow if he
could.

Why doesn't he?

LSD. What the banks don't own, his
partner does.

Oh, doesn't the business do too well?

It's a very short season.

Mr. and Mrs. Public just aren't cracker
-minded.

Oh, Christmas, the odd kiddies party,
fine, but they're not on the weekly

shopping list.

I mean, they're not going to replace
vitamin C. You can live without them,

you? There you are. What's he like?

Hopkins. Oh, a fat, decadent, bourgeois
capitalist exploiting the proletarian

masses. Really?

No, actually, he's rather nice.

Who shall I make the invoice out to?

The Twilight Home Camberley.

I'll come and collect them.

Anything else?

My goodness me, you sure took me by
surprise.

Aren't they lovely? Thank you.

Hey, don't believe all you read in the
motto.

No, I won't. Oops, I'm terribly sorry,
Your Honour.

Who was that?

What do you want?

Crackers, what else?

Seen them before somewhere.

Send me a pot of tea, will you, darling?

All that Japanese rice wine.

Eight of them treated by the same Dr.

McComb. Going to the dentist to fit?

It's fantastic.

Oh, he's a busy man, but he's very happy
to fit you in, Mrs. Gale.

In best pine, six foot by two foot, silk
line.

Hey, what's the matter wrong with you?

Well, what would you like?

Well, I can offer him any amount of
bruising.

That's all that vigorous company you
keep.

How about a slipped disc?

He is a doctor, Steve.

Hmm?

Well, it's a pretty treacherous area.

No, probe around, scare him, see if he
drops his thermometer.

What if he prescribes a trip to Cornwall
his style?

Say, you don't feel quite up to it.

Matter of fact, I booked you on the 7
.40, arriving midnight.

When?

Tonight.

There's an enlarged lymph gland and the
spleen's puffy.

Yes.

Well, I'd like to bring her to the
clinic.

All right, but I'll call you back.

Would you send me the next patient,
please?

Thank you, ma 'am.

Would you come in, please? Sit down.

We'll be with you in a moment.

What a very unusual surgery.

I wouldn't have thought a practice in
this area would be so useful.

You'd be surprised.

Would you like to sit down? Thank you.

Ah, now.

Mrs. Cairn, isn't it? Yes.

It was kind of you to see me at such
short notice, Doctor.

Not at all.

Now, now, what's the trouble?

I've got a bad eye.

How did you do it?

I was hit with a hockey stick.

Oh?

When was this?

Yesterday.

Is it swollen?

No, but it's very sore.

Did it water a lot?

Mm, ever since.

Right.

Well, perhaps you'd like to get on that
couch, would you, please, Mrs. Gale?

I'll take a look at it.

That's it. Make yourself comfortable.

Put your head well back, will you?

There we are. You can't be too careful
with these things.

The eye is not the delicate instrument
people imagine.

On the other hand, it doesn't take much
to detach the retina.

Hmm.

Well, this seems to be all right, Mrs.
Gale. I think you're lucky.

Good. Perhaps it would be a good idea to
keep your dark glasses on for a few

days. Yes, I will.

Well, do you live in London?

No, my home's in Cornwall.

I have a cottage just outside a little
village. I don't suppose you'd know it.

Whereabouts? Tinby.

No, I don't know the area very well.

I'll get you some drops.

And if you have any further trouble,
don't hesitate to go to your own doctor.

No, I won't. Thank you. I'll keep you.

Morning, my rockery.

Yes. What a lovely Montserrat, sir. Yes,
it is.

Now... Don't use these like an ordinary
eye drop. They're a wee bit stronger.

And you'll find a dropper in the cap.

Thank you very much, Doctor.

Have you got your car here? Yes, yes, I
have. Good.

Tell me, Mrs. Gale, how did you come to
choose me out of all the doctors in

London? I know a patient of yours. Oh,
who's that?

John Benson.

Oh, yes, yes, I know him.

Well, good day to you, Mrs. Gale.
Goodbye, Doctor. Thanks.

Now pull yourself together. Of course
we're not backing out.

She'll go through with it as planned,
and so will you, understand?

We say we'll deliver, we'll deliver.

Bye.

Problems? Business.

What else is it but headaches and
problems?

Problems? Yes, you show me.

Oh, uh, that man didn't come back again,
did he?

Man? What man? Your friend in the fancy
waistcoat the other afternoon.

Oh, him? No, he hasn't.

He does.

Tell me.

Bye.

Mrs. Gale, I think you owe me an
explanation.

Oh, come on. Well,

maybe just a bubble or two.

Tell me, do all your clients qualify for
champagne lunches and auctions?

Oh, shame on you. What do you think this
is, a PR dude chatting the client up?

Sorry.

I'll forgive you.

Just.

It's been a long time since I lunched in
the West End.

Promise me something, Roy. What? You
won't add up the bill.

If they want to overcharge you for the
Brussels, let them. He used to do that.

Oh, practically a ritual.

We should be careful.

We will be.

Afraid of being recognized?

Lunching with a prominent cracker
manufacturer.

Anything's possible.

Oh, my chauffeur is discreet.

I wink with the right eye, that means
straight home. And a wink with the left

means through the park. And if it takes
less than 40 minutes, you're fired.

And which eye is it to be today? Well,
seeing as Nelson was my uncle, I'll let

you do the winking.

Have you decided when it's time?

Yes. Soon?

Tonight.

Good.

Well, let's drink to that.

No, I'd rather not.

Let's go, Ray.

Relax, Steve.

You won't feel nothing.

Lord, Lord, methought what pain it was
to drown.

What dreadful noise of water in mine
ears. What sights of ugly death within

eyes.

Methought I saw a thousand fearful
wrecks. A thousand men that fishes

upon.

Wedges of gold. I would speak with
Clarence and can't hit her on my legs.

That's the first murderer.

How'd you get in?

It's not. I mean, it doesn't open. Well,
it should be. It's early closing. I

know it says close. I grant you that.

So now you know.

I'm a would -be actress.

Yeah, I think I got that far.

Waiting in the wings. What for?

Parts for women.

Eh? Well, could you see Mrs.

Siddons or Sarah Bernhardt riding a
motorcycle or scratching themselves?

Must be something for a pretty girl like
you. Yeah, working in cracker

factories. Why don't you let Mr. Hopkins
hear you? No, he wouldn't mind.

According to him, the firm's losing a
fortune anyway.

Well, he obviously doesn't come from a
poor home, drives a fast car, eats in

swanky restaurants.

Hey, you've been spying, haven't you?
Guilty.

Hopkins said he recognized you.

Oh, where from?

Couldn't remember.

Well, good for him.

So, what's your interest?

On for a new?

Strictly. Well, I have a little capital
to invest. I thought this might be a

cushy little billet. Oh, this isn't it,
believe me. I do.

Of course, he has another string to his
bow. Uh, Mandrake Investments.

That's what keeps him in clover. Oh, you
know anything about it?

Harsher than hush.

I sent you crackers off.

Strength be.

Of course.

Well, those poor odal tears are all
right. I haven't read anything about it

the paper.

There's my check.

Thanks. Hang on, I'll give you a
receipt.

Where is he today?

Lunch.

Look. Is it Japanese?

No. In fact, his lady friend came to
call for him. A Mrs. Turner.

Loaded. And cocked.

If he's out for another day, why don't
you call me?

Why? Why should I?

We have lunch. I owe you for the
sandwich.

No. I know a place in Soho.

Soft music, muted corks popping, gentle
zephyrs wafting garlic from the kitchen.

I don't like garlic.

And some of the best -known theatre
producers eat there.

Well, I don't actively dislike it.
Here's my card.

It's a date.

Mr. Steve, you're on.

Where's McCombie? He'll be here, don't
worry. How did it go?

Went. What happened?

I gave him the stuff, left him. When I
came back, he was dead.

Easy, isn't it?

I'll tell you the answer to that when
we've buried him.

You scared?

Are you kidding?

Relax, Eve.

It's all yours now.

That's right.

Sorry I'm late.

Little chap went down with flu, one
thing after another. I only wanted to

that everything had gone smoothly. See
you at the funeral.

Well, I've made out the certificate,
Mrs. Turner.

And what did he die from? Chronic
gastric guitar with colitis.

I've also invented a medical history for
the patient.

Where are we now? Last saw him three
years ago, 1961,

ancient flu.

Pluracy last year, and now, gastric
guitar.

There's only one thing I don't
understand.

What's that?

Why not cremate?

It would seem far safer.

Yes, I know it seems safer, but you see,
it isn't. You see, it takes two doctors

to sign the certificate.

This way it's far simpler.

Much less fuss.

Mr. Turner never liked fuss.

Come out and drink your coffee before it
gets cold. It's silly to waste it.

What do you want?

Just another chat.

Why, they're still with us.

Been having me followed.

Have I?

Thought you had me last time, didn't
you? Did I? All that talk about the

There was no letter. Who told you that,
McCombie?

How do you know about him? How do you?

He was father's doctor.

You know what this is?

No. It's a medical history sheet.

And it lists all the treatment that Dr.
McCombie ever gave your father.

What about it?

Well, when you sign a death certificate,
you normally know your patient.

This goes back to 1956.

I'd call that knowing him. July the 8th,
1956, he prescribed a gluten -free diet

and some blood tests.

So it says.

On July the 8th, your father was in
Beirut arresting a man called Malik.

How do you know? Because I was with him
and he wasn't on a diet.

What do you want?

How did you meet McCombie, and who put
you onto it?

Was it Hopkins?

He's a member of the same club.

Club? So that's how he operates, eh?

Belongs to about every club in London.

Knows everything about every member.

Did you know a good solicitor?

I expect so.

You better get in touch with him.

You're going to need him.

Be kindly light amid the inserting
gloom.

Ah, Mrs. Gale, you're back.

Yes, as I promised.

You were up to luck this morning. I
missed you. I've been into Godman and

out more than I expected.

Well, I hope now you'll be able to give
me a convincing explanation.

This is the analyst's report on the soil
I took from the graveyard. What does it

show? The earth is heavily impregnated
with arsenic. Over 200 parts per

Well, arsenic doesn't surprise me.

Why not?

Where there's tin, there's usually
arsenic.

Of course.

The mine was only a quarter of a mile up
the road.

Well, that's the attraction your
cemetery has, Victor.

Attraction? After a body's been buried
for more than, say, two months, it would

be heavily impregnated with arsenic.

So it would be pointless to exhume it.

But who'd want to?

The Home Office.

The Home Office?

Well, if they thought that somebody'd
been murdered, yes.

Murdered how?

Arsenic. But who'd do such a thing?

Your friends Hopkins and McCombie.

Do you mean to say that all those bodies
I buried recently were victims of

murder?

Yes. I'm afraid so.

But this is terrible.

We must call the police immediately.

No, we must wait.

We've got to have proof.

Mrs. Gale, we can't wait for another
murder to be.

Why too late, Vicar?

Oh, what a horrible scare.

How did you get involved?

Involved? You don't think that I was
involved.

Well, then, how did it come about?

Well, I first met Hopkins when his uncle
died over at Codes Green. I buried him.

Here? Yes, just by the west wall. Nice
plot.

They were local people, so it's very
likely that Hopkins could have known

the arsenic in the soil.

And told the doctor he was working with.
It can't be true.

It never occurred to me.

They seemed such nice fellows.

I must write to the bishop.

Vicar?

What were you getting out of it?

Oh, just a few guineas for Congo relief.

Good heavens.

Congo children educated on blood money.

This is an evil business, Mrs. Gale. How
are we going to stop them?

Well, we've always got your pistol. Oh,
that.

I found it in my cassock last night.

I confiscated it at choir practice in
Bodmin.

Thank thee, I thought I'd missed you.

Another minute, you would have done. I'm
sorry I didn't get your message.

That's all right. You've odd hours,
don't you? It's an odd business. Now,

do you want?

Tomorrow is D -Day.

Eh?

Hopkins is out of town.

Tomorrow? Thought I'd exercise my
options.

Garlic, theatre producer, remember?

I'm terribly sorry. Look, Julie, I can't
make tomorrow.

Oh.

It's not that I'm trying to back out.
It's just that I have to go out of town.

Yeah. How about next week?

Well, it depends on Mr. Hopkins.

But he has cracker in the shop. How
about Monday?

Come on.

£200 ,000, isn't it?

About that.

What next?

Some winter sunshine.

Canaries? Nassau. Very nice.

I've earned it 14 years with him.

Still, it's over 10 ,000 pounds a year,
darling.

Anyway, you married him.

Well, now, there weren't so many
alternatives.

When I married the late Mr.

Turner, I had a few shillings in my
purse, a pair of holy dance pumps, and

years' experience in the chorus.

Plus the firm conviction that any
striptease I did would be strictly for

audience of one.

Well, you have another audience now.

I'm retiring from the business.

Yes, but only temporarily.

I don't think so.

This all sounds very final. It is. What
do you mean, Eve?

As far as I'm concerned, Mr. Hopkins,
you're just another tradesman.

Now look, Mrs. Turner. I've traded with
you, Mr. Hopkins. End of story.

And I go back below the stairs. Isn't
that what they call it?

Where you go, sweetheart.

It's strictly up to you.

They're almost ready, Mrs. Turner.

And the vicar would like a word with
you.

We therefore commit the body to the
ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes,

to dust, ensure in certain hopes...

The resurrection of eternal life to our
Lord Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Good

morning,

Mr. Hopkins.

Good morning, Doctor.

Good morning.

Fine day for funeral?

Did you want something?

Yes, I want to see you.

Look here, if we're going to catch that
train, I think we'd better be off. This

is rather an inopportune time. This lady
has just been through the ordeal of

burying her husband.

Who was poisoned, along with Benson and
a good few others. What are you talking

about? Murder.

Absolute nonsense. Now, would you mind
letting us pass? This is hardly the time

for jokes. I'm very glad you agree. Even
if your allegations were true, you

could never prove it. Why not? Because
the ground here... Quiet!

Arguing one, Mr. Turner, God rest his
soul, lies in his grave. He doesn't.

What do you mean?

He isn't in his grave.

He's in the mortuary.

Post -mortem an hour ago.

Result, acute arsenic poisoning.

You fool. You want to come? I don't
believe a word of it. All you buried

four sacks full of sand.

A fine return for my money. Ten thousand
pounds.

Scott. Scott! Come on, Mander. Just
stand there.

Take him away.

The police are with the vicar at the
vestry door.

Follow, Mrs. Gow. See you later.

How much?

A hundred pounds on Queen's evidence.

Oh, you could have got him for fifty.

What about me?

That's all right, my dear.

Plenty of room. It's a big car.

It's a fair idea.

Of course. They planned it.

Naturally. They even gave me the poison.

All you had to do was administer it.

Hopkins and I can understand, but what's
been wrong with McCombie? New

techniques, better qualified men.

He just couldn't keep up.

Hey, neither can I. What's the hurry?

I'm hungry.

Hey, do you know what I'd settle for
right now?

Now what? Some of your brown bread,
cherry jam and Cornish cream. Oh.

At 11 .15 in the morning?

Told you I always had it for breakfast.