All language subtitles for tales_of_the_unexpected_s07e06_the_last_of_the_midnight_gardners

Why did I ever start this... ...loudy
competition?

Because firm needed publicity, you said.

Why?

Aren't we getting enough entries?

Too many.

And soon.

Awful.

Who does the preliminary report?

Ivy. Yes.

You can usually tell after the first
page.

Now, how did you get that one through,
Edna?

It seems impossible.

What about the...

The entrance fees. Will they... Will
they cover the £5 ,000 prize?

Oh, yes, and more.

Enough to keep me in silk underwear for
a while. You look sensational in or out

of silk underwear.

That's what my Graham used to say.

Poor Graham.

What a way to go.

Yes, well, he was accident -prone.

These are possible.

Read on, Macduff.

Oh, hell.

Mr. Oates' office.

It's Mrs. Oates. Is he there?

Yes, he is. Just one moment, please.

Your wife, sir.

Hello. Darling, are you very busy? Yes,
very. What is it? Dinner tonight.

Dinner?

Oh, darling, don't say you've forgotten.

Dr. Mellish is coming.

Well, I'll be home, I suppose.

Yes, but Sandra isn't well.

Who the hell is Sandra?

His wife, darling.

So his wife's ill. Does that mean you
have to bother me at the office?

Well, couldn't you think of someone
else? A woman to make up the foursome.

I mean, after all the trouble I'm
taking... What trouble?

The meal I'm going to cook.

Filet mignon en croute.

Oh, what?

Croute. Pastry.

I've tried the family, but no luck.

Well, that's because they know you're
cooking.

That's quite funny, but I hope it isn't
true.

Oh, can't you think of someone, Walter?

Not offhand. I don't know any other
women.

What about that new secretary of yours?

What's her name? Mrs.

Choose -something.

Mrs. Tewsland.

Yes, what about her?

I mean, at a pinch.

Walter?

Yes, Jane?

What about her?

I mean, if she's presentable.

Oh, yes.

She's presentable, all right.

Well, then couldn't you ask her?

It's not unimportant.

After all, you did think Dr Mellish
might invest in your company.

Hold on, I'll see what she says.

Mrs Tewsland!

Oh, Mrs Tewsland!

Ah, there you are, Mrs Tewsland. I know
it's short notice, but my wife is, uh...

Well, she needs a fourth for dinner
tonight. Our doctor's coming and his

can't. I wonder, could you possibly,
uh...

Are you free?

Well, sir, actually, my mother was
expecting me, but... Ah, you can't put

off.

Well, sir... Jane, I'm sure I can.

If it would help your wife out.

Oh, that's great.

Walker?

Jane?

She says yes, she can.

Oh, good.

Thank her very much, will you?

So when are you going to tell her?

Tell her what?

Your wife.

About her.

Well, not tonight, goodness me.

What's up, huh?

A doctor, then?

No, of course not.

But you promised... Just give me a
little time.

I'll get rid of her.

Get rid of her?

What on earth do you mean?

You're sending shivers down my spine.

I'll do more than that.

What do you mean, Walter?

I meant I'd divorce her.

What else would I mean?

Well, since I am acknowledged, am I not,
as being an expert on murder thrillers,

it surely isn't strange that I should be
a member of the jury. Of course not,

Walter. It's just that Jane says you're
rather overdoing it lately.

Working half the night. And not always
answering the phone.

Well, even after Mrs. Toothland sips the
wheat from the chat, that leaves a hell

of a lot of entries to read.

That takes concentration.

And I still have the publishing side to
run. It's a full -time job, I can tell

you.

Especially if Jane is to be kept in the
manner to which she's accustomed.

Let me give you a hand, Miss Bates. Oh,
very kind.

Oh, it's a competition.

Oh, it'll never end.

Not until the deadline.

No. A friend of mine, Reggie Parrott,
the barrister, I was asking him the

day, why so many wife murderers were
small, insignificant chaps?

What did he say?

Black or white, Mrs. Bridgerton?

Just the tinge of milk, please.

Well, he said that as a breed, they
tended to be husbands who bottled up

emotions and frustrations over the years
and then flew off the handle. Sugar?

Yes, please. Brown or white?

Brown, please.

But I expect chaps who write for your
competition aren't really interested in

reality, eh?

It's more James Bond stuff, right?

Sorry to disappoint you, Herr Doctor.

Coffee, Doctor Maynard. Thank you, yes.

But their creators are just like their
characters.

Insurance men, bank clerks, civil
servants, doctors.

They suffer in silence for years.

And then suddenly something snapped.

Now, hang on a minute. Is this fact or
fiction?

Fiction. No, thank you.

Thank you, my dear.

Yes.

Fiction or... Or rather what they dream
of.

Burial. in the middle of the night in
the cabbage patch.

But they don't fool anybody.

That's why I call them midnight gardens.

Midnight gardens?

Hmm.

How to get rid of your wife?

Bop her on the head and bury her in the
vegetable patch on the stroke of

midnight.

Bong.

Now, that wouldn't even fool Jane.

Well, I know the rules of our
competition, and I must say I find it

difficult to think of anything.

Yes.

No psychopaths allowed.

No crimes of passion, no killing in self
-defence. And what does that leave?

Murder premeditated.

That's the only murder one's likely to
get away with.

Coffee, Walter? And to win the
competition, it must be foolproof.

No, thank you. But what if the police
suspect in the story? Oh, yeah, yeah,

suspect, all right, but they must be
unable to prove anything.

That's the whole point of the
competition.

Otherwise, no 5 ,000 pounds.

Of course, it could be happening now.

What do you mean, Jane?

Poison in the coffee, that sort of
thing.

Well, that's as original as using a
blade of ice as a dagger or electrical

in the bath.

And there'd have to be a motive.

What? Might that have been a bloody
tough beef that Jane cooked tonight?

Yes, well, I'm sorry about that.

Hardly a motive for murder.

Or else there'll be a lot of dead
housewives.

Or a lot of dead butchers.

Besides, premeditated can't mean in half
an hour.

I think Mr Oates was joking.

Walter, joking?

Isn't he what, don't you?

Why didn't you write a story?

What?

Why don't you enter the competition?

What are you talking about?

You are the expert.

Well, thank you for the compliment, but
I do happen to be on the jury.

Well, couldn't you stand down?

Who'd replace me?

Do they need to replace you?

Three judges are surely enough.

I think it's a very good idea.

Yes.

Why not have a go?

Hmm? Oh, yes, darling, you know all the
plots.

I'm sure you could come up with
something really original.

I could help you, Pat.

Well, I do know all about

South American poison, but no antidote.

And embolism by injection.

Sounds painful.

Yeah.

Yes, I'll have a go. I'll resign from
the jury and have a go

at winning my own competition.

Of course, if you did win, it could
smell of malpractice. No, no, no. I'll

sputum and then... And then the jury
won't know which is my entry.

Fair enough.

And I must be thinking of going home.

It looks like I'll be extra busy in the
office tomorrow.

Perhaps.

I can give you a lift, Mrs. Chisholm.
Oh, thanks, but I wouldn't dream of

breaking up for tonight. I'll get you a
taxi.

We have a number.

Do we have nothing serious with your
wife, Doctor? No, no, just a bad back.

gives out from time to time.

We weren't really built to walk upright.

Hello, yes, my code number is W03635.

I'd like a taxi, please, to 23 Upper
Sheen Avenue.

Yes, the account is in the name of
Stanley Strange Limited.

Yes, to go to 14A Fairhaysville
Mansions.

North West 1, yes.

As soon as you can.

Thank you.

Hello.

Oh, no.

No, no, no. I've had to give up the
jewellery, Lark.

Yes, too busy sifting the wheat from the
chaff.

Yes. Yes, of course.

Uh, Edna.

Uh, Edna.

Yes. Yes, I have.

Yes, I've got it. Thank you.

What'll I do with the cash?

Same as with the wheat. Pick one out of
fifty and bung it to the jury, of which

I am no longer one.

Then chuck the rest in the bin.

Clever, dear.

Now, if I can have a bit of peace round
here, I can get on with that five

thousand pounds.

And then?

And then what?

You and me.

We're on 5 ,000 pounds. You must be
joking.

They'll be lapped up like a cat with a
saucer of milk.

Oh, you know that wasn't what I meant.

I want you to keep your promise. Edna.

Don't get heavy. Listen.

I fell in love with you. You fell in
love with me. What's wrong with going on

the way we are? We?

Fine for you.

You know that Jane holds the money bag.

to be played with finesse.

Well, you'll have to hurry the finesse.

Because I'm pregnant.

I see.

You're going to ask me how do I know it
was you?

Well, how do you know it was me?

Now you're that sort of bastard.

Darling? You scared me. I heard you come
in. Do you know it's after two?

Yes, I had a bit of trouble with my
story.

I was reading something very interesting
in the paper that... Yawn, yawn.

No, seriously, it was very intriguing.
Well, I can see nothing is going to stop

you. It was to do with anthrax spores.
Yes, well, the public health people know

all about those.

Yes, but if a chap cultivated, well,
say, orchids in his greenhouse and

contaminated the soil with anthrax
spores... Hang on, hang on. Where's he

to get them from?

He... works at Porton.

Porton. Portondale Research Station.

Chemical warfare. You're asking our jury
to believe that this chap who just

happens to work at Porton just happens
to grow orchids and he just happens to

bring home a sample of poisoned soil.

Why?

To kill his wife.

No. Not very likely.

I see now.

Oh, look.

Go back to bed, will you?

Let me get on with it.

Yes, of course.

Sorry.

Good night.

Nice and gently.

And out.

If I can just have you around this way.

Nothing to worry about.

Overwork. A touch of indigestion.

A bit too much of the hard stuff,
perhaps?

Just try to take it easy.

Stick to water and you'll be as right as
rain. Of course, Jane will look after

you. You know, I've never understood
what is particularly right about rain.

for God's sake, stop trying to be so
bloody clever.

I'm sorry, darling. I was only trying to
cheer you up. Thank you.

You will be all right. Oh, yes,

if he takes care of himself, yes. Get
into bed now and don't worry.

I'll look in again later.

I nearly didn't come in today.

I'm fed up with you and your promises.

And how

long

have you and your husband been patients
of Dr. Malish?

Since we moved here.

Five years.

But the doctor said nothing to you of
any serious illness in your husband.

Nothing, no.

Oh, the usual. He drank a bit too much.

He's working too hard, you know. Yes,
yes, of course.

Do you know if your husband took any
drugs, Mrs Oates?

Drugs?

Water?

He thought I...

He thought aspirin should be on
prescription.

You really will have to ask Dr Menish
for that sort of thing. Yes. Yes, of

course.

Mrs Oates tells me that Mr Oates was in
the habit of staying late in the office

almost every night.

Well, I was left sharp at 5 .30.

What would keep him late, would you say?

Almost every night, I mean.

Work, I suppose.

Oh?

It's hardly a hive of industry.

Was it?

He was writing a story.

Well... It takes long, does it?

Writing stories?

Depends.

Yes, I suppose it does.

The only story we found here was one on
anthrax spores.

It's not bad.

You could say a lot of coincidences, but
I like the general style.

Would you say that Mr Oates was,
generally speaking, in physically good

You'd better ask his doctor about that,
hadn't you?

Oh, I shall.

I shall.

Bring me some champagne, Vincenzo. Si,
senora, subito.

Oh, and, uh... Bring two glasses, why
not?

Si, senora.

It's from Edna.

You seemed in such a hurry to get away
after the inquest and the open verdict

poor Walter.

Everybody fussing round you with their
sympathy.

It made me quite sick.

He loved me and wanted to marry me.

I suppose you guessed about her even
before that night at the dinner party.

When he ordered me a taxi and knew my
address by heart.

He only stayed with you for your money.

I know that wasn't Walter's story they
found on his desk.

The one about the anthrax balls.

Walter's idea involved injections of a
drug that induces a heart attack and

can't be detected.

They'd have jumped on me if I'd said I
knew.

And I'm not such a fool as people think.

I know that's how Walter died.

And I know who was responsible.

What I'd like from you, after you
substituted your story for Walter's,

so ingenious, the perfect murder, he
would have won the prize for it.

How you got your hands on the drug and
injected it into him.

Darling, I thought you were never going
to get here.

Discretion, my love, if I had followed
you too soon.