Original subtitles

Thank you.

Thank you.

I'm so afraid I'm going to miss it.

I meant to go up this morning, but then of course the morning train would have

been crowded.

What with the derby.

You wouldn't happen to know which horse won.

With the derby?

Oh, let me think.

I'd be so upset with this dreadful business.

Maybe Juju.

Juju the second.

I don't think it's Juju.

They said he had the chance.

My computer says he does.

I've programmed all the variables.

The jockey, the horse, the track conditions, everything. And each time it

up with the same juju.

I'm sorry.

I do get a little carried away.

Probably don't even know what I'm talking about. You make it sound so

But I'm sure an old muddlehead like me couldn't begin to grasp anything about

computers. Oh, sure you could.

You see, it's only a question of probabilities.

Now look.

Imagine you have a jigsaw puzzle, only some of the pieces are missing.

All right, take the pieces you have and you feed them into the computer,

remembering that the pieces are numbers, and then the computer will tell you

what the missing pieces probably look like.

Oh, and it isn't a matter of absolute certainty?

If it were, I'd be rich.

I'm sure you do very nicely with your winnings.

Oh, oh, the derby. No, no, you see, I did that just for fun. I'm a researcher

MIT near Boston.

I'm Luke Williams, by the way. And I'm Lavinia Fullerton.

I gather you're on holiday?

Yes, yes. This is my first tour of Europe, and I am beginning to see what

I have been missing.

Ah, you could develop other passions then.

Yeah. Just as well, perhaps.

You know... Alexander Pope says, one master passion in the breast, like

serpent, swallows up the rest.

Essay on man, epistle one.

Epistle two.

It's hard being alone, I know.

Of course, I do have wonky food.

My cat, you see.

Beautiful.

But he's had such a painful ear lately.

And he was missing this morning.

I simply couldn't leave until he was found.

Why are we stopping?

I'm so late as it is.

Well, I don't see anything.

Dear, well, I can only hope they don't keep usual office hours at Scotland

Scotland Yard.

Oh, I'm sure it's safe to tell you.

You see, our constable at Witchwood is used to dealing with traffic problems

even with dogs who foul the footways.

But I feel certain he is just not the man to deal with.

Well, with murder.

Murder?

Oh, yes.

After the third time, one knows.

Three murders?

At least three that I know of.

It's the look, you see.

That terrible, mad look on the killer's face before striking.

I saw it first with Major Horton's wife, and she died.

And then there was Harry Carter and Tommy Pierce.

And I feel certain that Dr. Humbleby will be next.

And the terrible thing is that if I told him, he wouldn't believe me.

No, we are comfortable.

But it's Scotland Yard.

Now, you're sure?

I can't help you find a cab just to get to London. No, thank you. It's quite all

right. Oh, look, that's your horse!

Oh, wait till Jimmy sees that.

Well, I must be off. It's such a pleasure.

Thanks. Um, uh, pardon me, Mrs. Fullerton.

Oh, Mr.

Williams, it's enough to know that you actually wrote it.

I couldn't think of taking it from you. Lee, it's dedicated to my Aunt Mary, and

she never even saw it.

In that case, I feel treacherous.

Um, Ms. Fullerton, about this murder business... You know, at first I feared

didn't believe me.

Well, well, think of it in terms of, well, probabilities.

Now... It'd be pretty tough for someone to try and get away with all those

murders. Oh, forgive me, Professor, but that's where you're in error.

You see, the person in question is just the last person anyone would suspect.

And so long as no one suspects you, murder is easy.

All right, did you see those derby results? Did I see them?

I already have a computer lined up so that you can pick me out a winner during

the Ascot meeting.

No, no, no, not me. No, this is my first vacation in years. I have no intention

of sitting in a computer room and doing the same thing...

or Miss Bulletin got herself a flight to the pavement like that. And I really do

think it's terribly decent of you to want to go to the funeral, but I have

up a couple of absolute beauties. And I thought, as you're no longer involved

with Nancy... But, Jimmy, do you know why I am no longer involved with Nancy?

Because Nancy said to me I was more involved with my theories than I was

her, and a number of other ladies have said the same thing. That's why you want

to go to the funeral.

It's just that this lady got through to me, and I'm very curious about Dr.

Humblebee. Jimmy, look. A lady is going to Scotland Yard. She is going to

identify a murderer, and then she is killed. Now, that defies the theory of

probability. Luke, you can't believe her story. This country is teeming with

these dotty old ears full of direst imagining.

They're at height.

Stout shoes, capacious handbags, getting warm.

Probably had a budgerigar as well, or a cat.

Locky -poo.

I rest my case.

Oh, all right. I'll take you to your funeral at Witchwood, then. But I shall

definitely expect you to come up with a Gold Cup winner at the Royal Ascot for

me.

and the end.

I will give unto him that is a thirst of the fountain of the water of life.

Really, he that overcometh shall inherit all things.

And I will be his God, and he shall be my son.

And so, the time has come for us to say our last goodbye to our dear friend,

Vivinia Fullerton.

And indeed, you have all been good friends to her.

Mr. Abbott, who served her well as a legal advisor for many years.

Major Horton, and you are remembering today, I know, how faithfully Miss

attended your wife in her last units.

Mr. Ellsworthy.

Mr.

Ellsworthy.

And Miss Wainfleet, of course.

And, Aurea, how well I remember you and Lavinia as young ladies.

With Clarence Humbleby.

With your father, too, would you, dear?

God rest his soul.

Ah,

yes, certainly, of course. Lord Easterfield.

Always a...

Fine friend to all, I'm sure.

Hey, Jimmy, will you slow down? I want to talk to them.

Come on, Dada. It's not gaining on us. No, no, I haven't. It's the lorimer.

What is it, Bill?

There was you at the funeral.

Lady Barbara, not with you? How is she?

Oh, Mama, very well.

Splendid. Well, come along to tea.

I don't think that's possible.

Of course it's possible. It's perfectly possible.

Gordon, dear.

Really, you mustn't insist.

I'm Bridget Conway, Lord Easterfield's secretary.

Jimmy Lorimer.

And Luke Williams.

Bridget, Mr. Lorimer's coming to tea.

Gordon, please.

I gather Miss Fullerton was a friend.

No, actually, we came to see somebody.

That's right. A duty call for Mama, really.

An old acquaintance of hers. A fellow called Humbleby.

Dr. Humbleby?

Oh, dear.

Well, you're out of luck there.

Humbleby's dead.

And I feel certain that Dr. Humbleby will be Nick.

Now, come on. I'm Hitchford on problem... So don't tell me that

happened to drop dead right on schedule.

I'm not leaving till I find out what's going on around here.

Oh, very well.

But you can't simply just waltz into a pokey little English village and start

asking questions all round.

You'll stick out a mile.

We'll just have to try and think of some plausible reasons for your being here.

But don't expect me to stay.

I knew you'd come, after all.

Tang dynasty, I believe.

Aren't they all?

Well, it's too bad about Dr. Humbleby. Well, Humbleby was a muddle -headed old

fool. That means he disagreed with Gordon.

Well, he would have posed me on the question of our water supply.

If only you'd taken the trouble to read my editorials on the subject. But no,

stubborn as a mule.

Now, Gordon, I'm sure we're all very sorry he's dead.

Well, you have no reason to grieve at any rate, my dear.

But you can't oppose the will of Providence.

Here's old Humbleby gets a mere scratch, and within three days he's dead of it.

I expect it had less to do with Providence than with blood poisoning. He

neglected his condition, that's all, as doctors often do, oddly enough.

I shan't say any more.

Couldn't bear Lady Barbara to think ill of me.

Actually, Mama hardly knew Dr. Humbleby. It was Luke that was so eager to come

to Witchwood, wasn't it, Luke?

Was it really?

I must say, you both look like our usual witchcraft enthusiasts.

But we get so few Americans.

Well, you've come to the right place for it.

Of course, I think all this witchcraft business is rather absurd.

How did you know that I was, uh...

Here to study witchcraft.

What else could induce anyone to come to Witchwood?

Oh, but Luke's thrilled.

Always been keen on the stuff. Doing a book on... How's it go, Luke? About

death, anyway.

Oh.

Ah, well.

Ancient burial customs.

Of course, we were going to go on to Stonehenge for the Druid Festival, but

I'm not certain.

Perhaps one should tarry.

I trust there are comfortable lodgings in the village? Lodgings? Nonsense.

You stop here, of course.

That's very handsome of you, Lord Easterfield, to take Luke in like that.

I shall be quite envious.

What do you mean that you're not staying here? Oh, Luke, don't forget about

Asgard. Mama's got her places in the Royal Enclosure.

The Royal Enclosure?

I say, I don't suppose you... You see, Mama's having a little party afterwards.

Jimmy, I can't stay here. No, anyway, so dreary, this party.

All those crowned heads elbowing one.

My dear boy, of course he shall stay.

He must stay.

He'll stay.

That was a very nice dinner.

Go on, David. I'll come later.

You're going up, Gordon?

I've got to review the article assignments, but show me to the room.

Thank you.

Gordon, who...

Serious about his work.

He owns a few weekly newspapers.

Well, he seems to know what he's doing.

Oh, yes.

One's not made a lord for nothing, you know.

He really is a man of a great many gifts.

Except perhaps in the aesthetic department.

I don't think I count them for taste, is there?

Well, they're all rather interesting.

Abominable is more like it.

But Gordon will redecorate. He's renovated the whole place bit by bit

took it over from my family.

You don't mind?

Would it matter?

Anyway, it was a long time ago.

Say, Gordon, perhaps they'll do until your friend sends your thing. Oh, sure,

it's fine.

Used to be mine.

I'm down the hall now.

Oh, then you do live here. I mean, you're a secretary.

And his fiancée as well.

Ah.

And now you're wondering if it's usual to live in the house of one's fiancée.

I'm sorry.

I have a big mouth.

I'm afraid you'll be on your own tomorrow. Gordon and I leave early for

And so long as no one protects you, murder is easy.

What the hell are you doing?

Hop in.

No, thanks. I sort of like being alive.

Don't fight, Sam. I never have accidents.

Oh.

Decided to stay and help. How's the research coming?

I was just in the village, and I learned something.

Village folk are suspicious of strangers.

That's why you need my help.

my cousin.

All right?

Oh, please, I don't want to bore you with all this. I expect to be bored.

It's de rigueur. I am in training to be lady of the manor.

I gather there have been several funerals lately.

Yes, it is rather odd, so many accidents.

Let's see, there was Harry Carter.

He was drowned in the river, owned the pub.

Naturally, Gordon said he deserved it for being not only a drunk, but a

socialist.

And Tommy Pierce fell out of a window.

And Dr. Humbleby.

Fancy dying from a scratch.

Oh, of course, Miss Folliton.

Another accident.

Perhaps she doesn't count as he was killed in London.

By a reckless driver.

What are we doing back here? I thought you were going to help me. Really? I

don't understand why you didn't come here in the first place.

His own museum.

A hobby.

Miss Wayne Fleet, the curator, knows absolutely everything.

Hello.

Miss Wayne Fleet.

Miss Wayne Fleet.

I've brought you Luke Williams, a sort of cousin of mine.

Oh. Oh, yes. I saw you at poor Lavinia's funeral, didn't I?

I got it from my housemaid, Amy.

You really should take care of that.

I know. But I wanted to take care of this new exhibit instead.

Though I can't see what Lord Easterfield had in mind.

But he's so keen on modernizing.

He must have brought these things from that laboratory he visited.

It made me quite shiver just to hear him describe it. All those deadly germs and

cultures.

Look.

Remember I mentioned about Tommy Pierce?

Yes.

Well, this is the window he fell from while cleaning it.

Luke is doing a book on death rights or something, witchcraft anyway, and I

thought you might be able to help him.

But how intriguing.

Yes, we've quite a history that way.

Goes back to pre -Roman times.

Of course, our most famous witch was actually a warlock.

Oh, what was her name?

It was Harold, I think.

Miss Wainfleet, you should be home in bed. Don't you agree, Lou? Yes,

absolutely. This can wait.

Yes, Tommy fell from that window onto the flagstones there.

Quite horrible.

And you found him.

No, it was Mr. Abbott, the solicitor. We'd all gone off to the Charity Bazaar.

Remember, Bridget? Poor Tommy.

I'm sorry to say that no one liked him very much. He was an infuriating little

snoop. I'm sure it was very good of Lord Easterfield to keep him on after Tommy

was so impertinent to him. Well, you know Gordon.

Such a pity.

Lord Easterfield's kindness turning into tragedy like that.

tea. I've afraid my housemaid is quite a lazy girl. Wasn't even up this morning

when I left.

You would love to get at my little birds.

Amy wonky poo.

Wonky poo?

Yes. Lavinia asked me to watch him the day she went to London.

He had a bad infection. I can't find Amy anywhere.

After her old tricks again, Gordon gave her no end of lectures about staying up

late.

You're sure she came home?

Oh, yes.

I was awakened by a noise very late.

She must be in there.

That one, there.

The little skylight.

That's it.

Oh, dear. I do hope she's all right.

Perhaps she did it on purpose.

She was awfully torn up about some love affair a while back.

Come, you doughy me. All with several men on a string.

In fact, she's just broken off with Miss Daryl's wedding.

Curious.

No sign of anything.

Could you not touch anything, sir?

It's only a cough mixture.

I prescribed it myself.

Don't suppose you noticed the needle marks on her arm, Dr. Thomas?

I did manage to notice them. Thank you very much, Constable Reed.

I put them there myself.

Amy's cold would linger, and I thought she might be run down.

Took a blood sample.

But there must be a half dozen marks on there, sir.

Quite. Amy had what's commonly called floating veins, or it takes several

to insert the needle properly in such cases.

Embarrassing for you, sir.

All that stabbing about.

Still, we don't know that she didn't make one of those marks herself, do we?

What are you suggesting, Constable? Drugs, miss.

It's a common problem these days.

Amy? Rarely, Constable.

I'm something of an expert on narcotics.

If Amy were an addict, I believe I'd have known.

Always the first time, eh?

Now, Miss Wainfleet, I understand she frequented rock concerts in London.

Oh, well, that's proof positive, isn't it?

Rock concerts. Please, Miss.

You mustn't touch things.

How very odd.

So white.

Not at all a flattering shade for Amy.

business, these drugs. Still, I expect it's just routine for you, isn't it,

You've been an American.

Love your squad car.

No wonder.

What's the probability of five people dying suddenly in a town of this size?

Six, counting him.

And I wonder what all this has to do with your study on witchcraft.

I want a straight answer, Luke.

Why did you really come here?

Heal!

Heal! Heal Nero!

Heal! Heal Nero!

I mean, who would want to murder all those people? I don't know, but Miss

Fullerton did, and that is why she's dead. She said the guy was crazy.

Perhaps it was one of your warlocks at work.

All right, all right. How was I to know that warlocks were male witches?

Let's hope that Miss Wainfleet is not as sharp as you are.

She's sharp enough to be suspicious about Amy anyway.

So what are we saying? That some man doped Amy and then... Planted the

to make it appear as if she ever did. How did he get into the room? The door

locked from the inside.

Any fairly strong man could have got in through that window just to shoot it.

Wait, wait, wait.

Wait, wait.

Amy knows the guy. She brings him home. He kills her. He leaves the compact and

then he goes out the window.

Hmm.

Better. But why the compact? Why not a...

Syringe.

Careful.

We already lost Harry Carter off this bridge.

Unless he was pushed.

Oh, this whole thing is so bizarre.

I've lived all my life here. If there really is a killer, and he really is

then I should have some idea.

Bridget, there is a killer. And if we don't do something, he's going to go

on killing.

What? Of course.

What? Come on, Luke.

What? Come on.

Witchcraft?

No, I have a few amulets and such for the tourists, of course.

Interesting,

Mr. Ellsworthy.

Yes, I've just got in a few oriental things.

Perhaps you'd be good enough to tell his lordship, Miss Conway. I shall.

What is that?

It's a bomb.

Used for smoking hash.

You may be the only soul in Witchwood who would know that.

As this one's quite old. It's possibly 19th century.

Must have been the sort of affair that Coleridge would have used.

No, no, Coleridge used opium.

Very different sort of thing to hashish.

Xanadu, you know.

Divine madman, Coleridge, thanks to opium.

Sanity is such a bore, don't you think?

I mean, it takes a touch of madness to see life through a new and entrancing

angle.

At least, so one imagines.

I know very little about the artistic temperament.

Oh, you're too modest, Mr Ellsworthy.

Those sketches you did of Amy Gibbs were really very good.

Yes, well, Amy would make a very pretty subject for anyone.

You think so?

I've always found her rather common.

Certainly not the sort to whom a man would want to lose his heart.

She'd be sure to break it, wouldn't she?

Yes, yes, I suppose that's so.

Bridget, what do you think they're saying about poor Amy?

After all, she's dead.

Dead?

Oh, that's brilliant, Professor Williams. They're all pretty well,

Bridget.

Okay, now let's look at the victim for a minute.

Amy. She was young and pretty.

She was a man -chaser.

She was unreliable.

Bridget said she worked here until Easterfield got in a hassle with her.

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

What about Easterfield?

with Dr.

Humblebee?

And Tommy?

No.

No, no. It's just too improbable.

Oh, come on. Think.

Gotta do better than this.

People are getting killed.

I must be mad.

Do you know I saw you there at the window and I took it in and I said you

going to fall.

It's all right. You must think me an imbecile. That's all right. You're much

stronger than you look. Please sit down.

Don't cry. Oh, no, I shan't.

I've seen it so often in my mind, you know.

Tommy going over and with Amy and everything.

Oh, dear.

It's all right.

You've come about your research, of course.

And I do have some things for you.

Ah, Miss Wainfleet.

We have to talk.

Poor Lavinia.

Did she say who the killer is?

No, no, she didn't.

But I think you have some idea.

Miss Wainfleet, the day...

Miss Fullerton was killed.

Do you remember anything at all about that day? Anything unusual?

No.

Well, let me think.

Lavinia came by with wonky proof, asked me to watch him. And, of course, I read

as I was just by the fire all that day anyway. I was coming down with it cold,

you know. And Amy was in bed with her cold.

Oh, yes.

Dr. Humbleby came by to look in on her.

In the late afternoon.

Dr. Humbleby, not Dr. Thomas.

No, Dr.

Thomas was away that day. At the Derby, I believe. They sometimes treated one

another's patients.

And Clarence, Dr.

Humbleby, you know, he said, might as well have a look at that ear of wonky

Pooh's as well.

That was like him. Such a nice man.

Oh, dear.

That must have been the last time I ever saw him alive.

Should you decide to tell me who you suspect?

Yes.

I'll think on it.

And thank you for coming to me.

It's a relief to know it isn't just me.

That I'm not crazy.

Or growing senile quite yet.

Senile? No, I wouldn't worry about that for decades yet.

Yes, it's I.

Quite plain, even then.

But youth is everything, isn't it?

Who's the man?

Why, it's Gordon, you know.

My family was so scandalized when we became engaged.

You were engaged to Lord Easterfield?

Long ago.

Long before he was Lord Easterfield.

Such a promising boy.

I was so proud of his spirit.

Termination.

Age does things to people, Mr. Williams.

Still, perhaps my family were wrong.

Your things, sir.

Thanks. Drink.

From a colleague in Greece, Ouzo.

Where is his lordship, by the way? Oh, he'll be in town very late putting his

paper to bed.

Gordon's a very hard worker, rather admirable, I think.

Practised away much of the time.

Well, it must get kind of lonely.

It's the price I pay for the freedom to do whatever I want.

I wonder if it's worth it.

Are you asking me?

No, no, I've been asking myself that lately.

You see, I'm kind of at the crossroads.

I've spent my whole life in the academic world, and I love it. It's a safe

retreat, and I get to do exciting and interesting work,

and nobody bothers me.

Hassles, no trivial details. And no human contact.

Ah.

Hmm.

Yes, well, that never used to bother me.

Uh, before.

But, uh... There... There is this man in my department. His name is Harry

Ludwig. He's about 50 years old.

You say hi to him. He's left for an answer.

But, Luke, that's...

It's not you.

Well, not yet, anyway.

In any case, I have been offered a job with a consulting firm in Washington.

I have to confess, it offers some really exciting challenges. But

I'd have to deal with people all the time. I mean, like

the company and the government.

No more nice, safe, theoretical stuff.

And which will you choose?

Supposedly, I'm on vacation in order to make up my mind, and so far I have done

a pretty good job of avoiding it.

Sometimes I think I'm doing a pretty good job of avoiding life altogether.

Ash Manor is my retreat, just as the university is yours.

No more gloom and doom. The probability theory would show that we will both

survive.

What's probability theory?

It's really a method of deciding which event is most likely under any given set

of circumstances. For example, if you keep looking the way that you do, the

probability is roughly 0 .9.

But I will forget you're someone else's fiancé.

I see.

In that case, we'd better change the circumstances.

It is after eleven.

And they say thin becomes rampant after eleven.

Out.

Yes, it was. Just over the line.

Criminal insanity.

That will be the verdict for one of your witches these days, Mr. Williams.

You think so, Mr. Alder?

Well, of course I will.

Legal insanity is difficult to define.

Well, even the most dangerous lunatic may seem just like the next bird.

Well, he may feel that he has lots of enemies, but who doesn't, what?

Interesting how easy it can be to murder a person, if you're clever.

You're probably experienced in that.

Oh, no, no, no. I'm afraid my work's just the dull stuff.

Wills. Investments.

Anyway, there's been no murders around here for as long as anyone remembers.

Eh, Bridget?

Unless someone finally finished off Tommy Pierce.

Tommy? Moron. Drive a person mad.

Tommy when they drowned?

No, no, no, no, no. That was that idiot Harry Carter drowning in the river.

That can't have been good for the water supply.

Oh,

I say, that's very good.

Wish I'd thought of it.

That's the old Humblebee's face if I'd told him that.

Why, Miss Humblebee?

Happy you felt that coming out.

I insisted.

She needs a diversion.

Miss Humbleby, my condolences.

Did you get the autopsy results, Dr. Thomas?

Amy died of opium derivatives.

Why did you do that? You gave him the set. Don't be absurd. My game simply

to pieces. It happens, you know. No, not like that. I mean, the first double

pull of the day.

Yes, that was rather good.

You mean you admit it?

Obvious, my dear Watson.

Well, what the hell for? You're a good player.

Equally obvious, I would have thought. Gordon hates losing.

Well, terrific.

Maybe I don't like it either.

But then you're not my bread and butter.

Come on, you're actually going to marry a creep like that for money?

Oh, I'll earn my keep all right with Gordon. Yes, if you don't mind the job

description.

He'll forget to kiss me goodnight after a month.

Surely you can see what a child he is.

Yes. And what a cold -blooded gold digger you are.

Well, it's better than being a hot -blooded fool.

You think I don't know what it is to love a man? Well, let me tell you about

first fiancé, Johnny. I cared for him like hell, and he threw me over for a

widow with three chins and an income that makes Gordon look like a pauper.

That sort of thing rather cures one of romance, don't you think?

Yes, I guess it could.

It did.

Well, good.

then maybe it'll cure me, because I was beginning to have some pretty romantic

feelings about you.

What?

Oh, Bailey, Luke, we've only just met.

Why don't you grow up and behave like an adult?

I am.

And that's why I'm wrong for you, since you're only hot for children like

Easterfield.

It must have been very hard on you when Mrs. Horton died.

Yes.

A lot of people were kind.

Then Bridget came every day toward the end.

Brought down hothouse grapes from Easterfield.

I was awfully sporting of Bridget.

Swallowing her pride that way.

Yes, she has plenty of that.

Hmm. Well, my wife was a wonderful woman, but she did snub Bridget terribly

after her father lost his money.

Poor Bridget had rather a time of it. Expect you know, being her cousin.

Yes, but she never said much about it. No, no, well, she wouldn't, would she?

But I still say, that idiot Humbleby was the cause of it all.

Anyone could see Bridget's father was dying, but Humbleby insisted he knew how

to treat him.

Thought the poor girl would go mad with grief when he died.

Augustus, heal, sir, heal, heal, heal!

Winnie, Augustus, heal, sir, heal, heal, heal!

How are you?

I have to interview Tommy Pierce's mother. Can I buy you a drink? Oh, no.

I'll not set foot in Harry Carter's place even if he is dead and gone to

I don't think it's right his lordship giving himself air. It's not like he

a real gentry. Not like Miss Brigitte or Miss Wainfleet.

Didn't I hear something about... I was at Abbott and Amy Gibbs.

I never wanted to go there.

I never have been, but I always said that Amy'd come to a bad end.

Think how it broke poor Miss Bridget's heart.

Amy stealing her Johnny away that she covered.

And I'll admit, it was naughty of Tommy laughing at Miss Bridget over it.

But I think we'll all be happy to see her as Lady of the Manor.

It's hers by right, after all.

Yes, that's interesting. But, Mrs. Pierce, did I hear you say Amy stole

Bridget's fiancé?

I was hoping you were still awake so I could say that I'm sorry about this

afternoon.

Apology accepted.

And I wanted to say I think you're making a great mistake going for

when you could have me.

But there's no accounting for taste.

Anne, I need your help.

You idiot.

I don't suppose any of this could have waited till morning.

Oh, it could.

But I wanted to test your reactions to stress.

How am I doing?

You pass.

Now, will you go somewhere with me tomorrow?

I can do anything I want.

But now he's got the wind up around us, what's to stop him laying the blame on

me? Oh, Rivers, really, you've blown the thing entirely out of proportion.

Have I?

Then you'll have no objection to me telling him then, will you? Now you know

what a temper he has.

You ask me all the time.

I don't like being questioned.

Rivers, really, it was nothing. You needn't concern yourself.

But he has to be told. Oh, right, Rivers.

I'll tell him. But please be good enough to let me do it in my own way.

We'll make it soon, yes?

Right, I'll tell him myself.

That would be very foolish of him.

Very foolish.

You're certain that your friend Jimmy said to come here?

Mm -hmm. You are so beautiful when you're perplexed. Come on.

Luke, what are we doing here?

my dear, are going to find out who the killer really is.

You're joking.

No, I'm not.

We are going to get the help we really need. Now, if you will just sit down.

After yesterday, I decided it's much too complicated for us to figure out by

ourselves. So, I am going to program everything we know about the murders

the computer, and it is going to tell us The name of the murderer.

You are joking.

Bridget, this is my bread and butter. It's just a question of relative

probabilities if we program it properly.

Now, here are the names of the six victims.

What does it say?

Well, it is asking how the victims were killed, and we don't know that at all.

At least we know what killed.

Do you ever start to think how smart the killer must be?

Killed every one of them in a different way.

I know, it's terrifying.

Motors, now that's a topic.

Better just input the classics for now and hope we hit it.

You know, lust, greed, fear.

What else?

Revenge?

Ah.

Opportunity.

That means who was in the right place at the right time, I suppose.

But there's no way to know that. Except in the case of Miss Fullerton.

Would you agree that whoever killed Miss Fullerton probably killed all the

others?

Yes.

But how do you know who could have killed her?

Because she was killed on Derby Day. And we now know who was absent from the

village on that day.

That's why you were asking everyone about the Derby.

Oh, Luke, you are clever.

Our leading candidates.

First, Abbott, the attorney, a womanizer.

Ellsworthy, probably the last person to see Amy alive.

Major Horton, whose wife died mysteriously.

And Dr. Thomas, who knows all about drugs.

There must be others.

Well, I did check up on a couple of other people.

There's me, of course.

I was in London that day, too.

You mean with Easterfield?

Sorry to disappoint you, but I know where Gordon was, but you don't know

was. Bridget, I don't think you understand.

I'm not keeping a list on everybody in Witchwood, you know. Just those I have

every reason to suspect.

Thought perhaps you did suspect me.

You said I was a cold -blooded gold digger.

Why not a cold -blooded killer?

Hey, I said I was sorry, and after last night... That's why I want you to be

sure. I guess you think I'm playing some stupid little game or something.

I happen to believe in this stuff, and I'm very damn good at it. I'm sorry.

It just all seems so fantastic to me.

No, no, no. You want your name in, I'll put your name in, okay?

At least I am.

Are you?

For what?

To find out who the killer is.

Are you ready?

Oh, Luke.

Boy, if you could have seen the look on her face when her name popped up on that

computer.

And I thought Gordon was a child.

Really, Luke, you have a most peculiar sense of humor.

That'll teach you to make fun of my work.

Why shouldn't I? After all that, your marvelous computer still couldn't come

with the name of the real killer.

Luke.

Am I to understand that I have put... The entire resources of Oxford

at your disposal so that you can play a joke on this poor girl. It's not a joke,

Jimmy.

Do you want to say Bridget's the murderer?

I don't know anything for sure. I just know that I had some pretty good reasons

for suspecting her. So I thought that if I had her name flash on

that screen, she'd come unglued, she'd tell me everything.

I'm beginning to remember now why I don't get involved with people.

Look here, old friend.

You've got to give up all this sleuthing nonsense and go to the authorities.

Jeremy.

I'm in love with her.

Well done.

If you know she's guilty... I don't know anything for sure.

Right now it's all speculation.

What if she is? I don't know.

But I am going to have a talk with the one woman who really knows the truth.

Who is it?

Miss Wainfield, it's Luke Williams.

Someone tried to kill me.

On my way home, I stopped to give those petunias a bit of water. I was simply

standing here when this thing whizzed past my head from up there.

I didn't dare touch it.

You didn't tell anyone?

Oh, I was so frightened, I went straight home.

Ellsworthy.

I suppose you're going to regret this.

Don't worry.

I'm off. And it's you who are going to regret this, you stupid idiot.

Oh, no, I'm sorry. You should have to witness such a disgraceful scene. But

man... Gordon, what on earth's happening?

Nothing, my dear.

I've just dismissed Rivers.

Rivers?

Gordon, what's happened?

What did he say to you? Nothing, my dear. That need be repeated.

Just a pack of filthy lies. How dare...

Something very serious shall happen to that young man. You mark my words.

Yes, yes.

What

is

wrong with you?

Nothing. Nothing is wrong anymore, and that's the wonderful part. I love you,

and everything is okay now.

Luke, will you wait a moment?

You've got me so confused, I can't think.

All right, all right. Just take one thing at a time. Number one is that I

you. And number two is that I've been absolutely wrong about everything. I

really do know who the murderer is now.

She knew? Miss Wainfleet knew?

It doesn't matter, because I know now.

It's Ellsworth.

Ellsworth? Yes, yes. I will explain all of this to you later, but right now I

have to see the constable.

Luke, wait.

Maybe you're wrong about Ellsworth.

No, no, I know what I'm doing. May I borrow your car?

Oh, I'd take care of Miss Wainfleet if I were you.

She's a little shook up.

And I really do love her.

You don't believe a word of it.

Mr.

Williams,

isn't it?

Yes.

Well, Mr. Williams, I do appreciate your concern.

And it's a colorful story, heaven knows. But you see, sir, here in England, we

really do prefer something in the nature of solid evidence before we

go about arresting people.

Solid evidence? What do you call that? I saw it in Ellsworthy's shop.

Yeah, well, it certainly is, sir.

Certainly solid at any rate, isn't it, sir?

And no end of fingerprints.

I'll wage her.

But how can you ignore what...

Come to tell the truth.

Woohoo!

What are you doing here? I told you not to come. Oh, look, thank God you're all

right. I thought I was worth it coming back.

And I... I thought... Hey.

Hey, it's all right. It's okay.

It's all right.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

Maybe you ought to go back inside.

Oh, there's no time for jokes. I thought he might have killed you.

If one you know.

Me? If you really want me.

If I really want you. Luke, listen.

If you knew what I've done, simply out of pride, I'd let the past rule me as if

it should the world.

I don't want to be Lady of the Manor, not really.

I just want love.

I truly feel that.

That's why I want to get right away from here before the past overwhelms me

completely.

I want to go right away. You will come with me to talk to Gordon, won't you?

Of course I'll come.

Struck down by divine wrath.

A remarkable theory, Lord Easterfield.

Well, the Lord boos in mysterious ways, you know.

Does he indeed, sir?

Well, how can you doubt it?

Rivers abuses me, and what happens?

Where is he now?

Gordon, please come into the house with me.

The word according to Easterfield.

Yes. He's a riot, isn't he?

Almost as funny as I am.

It's too bad Rivers isn't alive to enjoy it.

Oh, I take you quite serious now, sir.

Quite serious indeed.

Except on one point.

Ellsworthy is not your man.

But I saw Ellsworthy's hands.

They were covered with blood.

Ah. It was you who broke into his shop last night. I expect he'll be lodging a

complaint against you once his hand clears up.

He cut it, you know, changing the tyre.

Outside the witch's head inn.

Plenty of witnesses to it.

Then Ellsworthy couldn't have done it.

This might be interesting to you, by the way. The CID tell me that the car that

killed Miss Fullerton has now been identified. It was a large...

Maroon car, chauffeur driven.

A man in the crowd phoned last night and gave the license number.

He hadn't actually seen it, you understand, but the woman beside him

gave him the number.

Only he wasn't sure he had it right.

Well, did he or didn't he?

Did.

But the chauffeur had an alibi, and the car belongs to one of the gentries, so

that was that.

However, however, sometimes it's difficult to see what's right under your

nose. But you said the chauffeur had an alibi.

On Derby Day, he drove his charge to London, but then he was given the

off, and when the car was returned...

It had a damaged front bumper.

How do you know all this? He was asked to fix the bumper on the fly, which,

being a loyal sort, he did.

And when he was questioned, he lied, being a loyal sort.

But I don't see... Please, please, Mr. Williams.

You're missing the best part.

When, despite his loyalty, he was dismissed, he... He came straight and

all.

Poor bloke. He had no notion of any connection with Miss Fullerton's death.

thought the car had been in an accident which had gone unreported.

Then it was.

I'll be at the station

at midday.

Luke, what did he tell you? Nothing.

Nothing you don't already know.

Please believe I didn't really know.

Not for certain.

I kept hoping it wasn't Gordon.

But it is.

Why did you listen to your family? Why didn't you just marry him anyway?

No, you don't understand.

I would have defied them.

I would have defied the world.

Oh, it all sounds so absurd.

You see, I had a little pet canary, Moonlight, and Gordon,

Gordon couldn't bear it somehow that I could love anything else, even a little

bird. And one day, he just snapped him away from me and wrung

his neck right before my eyes.

And that was when you broke off the engagement.

I could never forget how he seemed to enjoy it.

But the years passed, and I never saw him do anything like that again.

Oh, he was always hot -tempered and proud, but... Then

these accidents began happening.

And he began to talk about divine justice and retribution.

He raved on and on to me about how people had to be punished for their sins

against him.

That's what he said about Rivers.

Oh, Mr. Williams, I haven't known what to do. I've thought a hundred times of

trying to talk to Bridget to warn her somehow.

But you see how that would seem to her.

Well, you don't have to worry about it anymore.

Because they're on to him now.

And besides, Bridget has already decided to leave him.

Leave him?

Oh, heavens.

We've got to get her away.

Don't you see what he might do?

A fool, Avery.

Elsewhere they brought these days ago.

I'd be most anxious to see them.

Ah, lovely, isn't it?

Now, where's the other one? There must have been a pair.

Gordon, I feel so ashamed. You're taking the news so well. You've every right to

be furious with me.

Oh, isn't that a beauty?

Perfect workmanship.

And what an edge.

Bridget.

Oh, hello, Honoria.

I expect you've heard.

Bridget's decided to go off with Mr... this fellow here.

So they won't be with us long.

Now, Mr. Phil, I'd like to offer my apology if you'll accept it. It wasn't

intention to take Bridget away from you.

The fact of it is we fell in love.

Yes.

Well, I only hope it is love you're after and not the fortune that'll come

Bridget one day.

Oh, Gordon, we've been all over that.

I don't want your money.

It's not your decision, Bridget.

Oh, I know how they all sneer at me.

Claim that I only prospered at your father's expense and I'll not have it.

I had intended to prove them all liars by doing you the honour of marrying you

as well as leaving you my estate.

Come to that, my dear.

May not be a problem anyway, since no doubt I'll outlive you.

Both of you.

God! Listen, if you're threatening us... Threatening you?

How absurd.

It's nothing to do with me, you know.

I'm only the instrument of a higher power.

Gordon, please, don't start.

It's happened every time.

That wretched Pierce boy, Lydia, Carter, Humbleby, Amy, Rivers, all my enemies,

cussed down and exterminated.

But you understand, don't you, Honoria? Of course, Gordon, of course I

understand. And I'm certain you're right. But you know, Gordon, dear,

yourself get upset. Upset?

Nonsense, son. I'm very perfectly free.

It's amazing, isn't it?

They all die.

Come on, let's get out of here.

I'll just get my bag and go home.

Well, what are you going to do? Let him go on killing people? You can't protect

him anymore?

Gordon is childish.

And he's pompous. And he certainly has a temper.

But look, deep down, he is harmless. I promise you the man wouldn't hurt a fly.

Oh, yeah?

Well, he sure as hell would choke a canary. A canary?

That's why Miss Wainfleet broke off their engagement. He killed her canary.

She said that?

Miss Wainfleet said that? Yes, she said that. And then there's also the car. Not

that you didn't suspect that already.

What about the car?

Bridget, he ran down Miss Fullerton in the road.

I don't believe that. A woman in the crowd saw the license number.

I'm sorry.

I don't mean to be rough with you.

Look, I have to get to Constable Reed's office.

The Constable already knows about Gordon? Yes. Now, are you coming with

Well, I need a little time to pull myself together.

If I could meet you somewhere at Miss Wayne Fleet, I'll meet you there later.

All right.

Luke. Yeah.

I hope the constable would be discreet about this.

It's obvious now that Gordon will do anything to avoid public humiliation.

If Reed trots this out and makes a big show, Gordon might even kill himself

rather than face it.

I can hardly believe it.

Gordon, a murderer.

I felt certain too.

But now that I've had time to reflect more calmly, well, do think

just for a moment how cleverly it was all done.

And whatever our feelings for Gordon, let us admit that he does not have the

kind of devious intelligence it must have taken to manage all those murders.

Pretty straightforward, isn't it?

Take Cary Carter. He did laugh at Gordon and in public, too.

And shortly afterwards, he's drowned.

And Tommy's case was similar.

And poor Rivers killed at the very gates. Rather obvious.

Perhaps too obvious.

Almost perhaps as if a very cunning person were trying to make it seem that

less cunning person had done it.

Why, Bridget, what's the matter?

Nothing, I'm fine.

Oh, dear, I've upset you.

What about a nice walk?

Do us both good.

A walk?

Yes, Luke won't be finished for a while yet.

That should give me just enough time.

Lord Easterfield looks guilty, all right.

But then perhaps that's precisely what someone is after. Someone will find it

profitable to get Lord Easterfield out of the way, even to see him dead.

If there were such a person, why would they kill all those people? Why not just

kill Easterfield?

Too risky.

Especially if the person was someone close to Lord Easterfield.

Well, then perhaps we should question Miss Bridget Conway. I'm sure she'll

up with some answers for us.

No!

You know, Miss Wainfleet, you may be on to something about Gordon and the

murder.

For some of them must have taken some quite brilliant plannings.

To say nothing of nerves.

Yes, you do see.

Take Amy, for example.

She certainly wouldn't have let Gordon put a needle in her arm. Oh, but there

are other ways to kill a person with heroin.

I read up on it afterwards.

Did you?

How very thorough of you.

And rigid.

Surely it can't have been a simple matter to induce blood poisoning in Dr.

Humbleby.

Of course Gordon could have learned of such things from his visit to the

laboratory.

What about Lady Horton?

She died long before Gordon went to that laboratory.

Are we to believe that he really knew how to poison those grapes himself?

What grapes?

By the grapes he sent from his funhouse.

You took them to Lydia yourself, didn't you, Bridget?

Yes.

Though I did, wasn't aware you knew that, Miss Wainfleet.

You must tell me what else you know.

Why so silent, Miss Wainfleet?

I'm waiting to hear the rest.

I don't know anymore.

I don't really know anything.

It's all just speculation.

Probably quite foolish.

Foolish? Oh, no, you were never foolish.

You're quite clever.

In fact, maybe almost as clever as the killer.

I don't think you realize what you're saying.

You look... Foolish enough, all right. Proper Miss Wayne Fleet in her proper

little gloves. You wear them everywhere, don't you?

Brigitte, you must stop this.

Why do you walk through the fields in gloves, oh fat white woman whom nobody

loves? Where did I hear that?

I can't remember, but it fits you perfectly because nobody does love you,

Wayne Fleet.

Nobody does and nobody ever will.

Please. You think Gordon did, but you're wrong. You never had him. You never

had... Anyone or anything.

Except that cleverness of yours.

And that cleverness could get you into trouble.

Couldn't it, Miss Wayne Fleet?

You already get Easterfield.

Look at everybody else!

doing to Miss Wainfleet?

She's admitted everything?

Admitted it, yes, my son.

She wouldn't be satisfied till she'd given us every detail.

Yes, it was awful. She was so proud of her cleverness.

I know.

I tried to play on that to get a confession out of her and she was going

me just before killing me.

That was to be your final crime, Gordon, killing me because...

I was leaving you.

That's why she asked you to meet her in the meadow at midday, I suppose.

You'd be found there with my body.

And your dagger.

But how on earth did she get hold of my dagger?

Oh, she stole it this morning off the table.

It still had your fingerprints on it.

Of course.

Her... Proper little gloves.

Poor Honoria. Those rages of hers.

Do you know, she once killed her own pet canary.

Just because it pecked her.

I simply couldn't feel the same about her after that.

Then it was you that broke off the engagement.

I told you how tender -hearted he is.

When you reported to me that story about the canary, I knew Miss Wainfleet must

be lying to make Gordon look guilty.

Smart girl.

It's really just a matter of knowing a little about human nature, Luke.

Perhaps that's why your famous computer couldn't come up with the right answer.

No, don't blame the computer. I didn't program Miss Wayne Fleet as a suspect.

Oh, don't feel badly about it, Mr... Williams.

Oh, she even took me in. Had me convinced that the Almighty was wreaking

vengeance on all my enemies.

That isn't altogether a bad theory.

But what I don't understand is this. How did my rolls come to be identified as

the car that bowled over Miss Fullerton?

Because I had the roll on Derby Day.

That's why I knew it couldn't be you, Gordon.

And you bashed the fender.

Miss Waverley knew Miss Fullerton was on to her, so she followed her to London.

She saw her chance and pushed Miss Fullerton under a passing car.

The driver of the car failed to stop, so she simply gave your license number to

a man in the crowd.

But how did she manage all the other murders?

Some are obvious, but what about Humbleby, for example?

Now, when Humbleby went to visit her, Miss Wainfleet ran her scissors into his

right hand and then insisted on bandaging him, but first she infected

bandage with discharge from Wonky Poole's ear.

Good Lord.

If you'll forgive me.

And the others?

She killed Lydia Horton with garden spray on the grapes, little by

little. And then the night that Amy came home from London, Miss Wainfleet

brought her a nice cup of tea, loaded with heroin.

Imagine the old witch doing all that just because his lordship jilted her so

long ago. All for revenge.

Yes. Her one master passion swallowed up the rest.

Yes. Beg your pardon, sir.

Essay on man, epistle two.

How is this?

But it is hard to believe that so much love could turn into so much hate.

Is it?

Excuse me.

I must go to Gordon.

I still like your squad car.

We have returned to the use of the bicycle in the interest of economy.

Environment, and if I may say so, sir, efficient policing.

Gordon's already hard at work on his next series of articles.

famous female criminals throughout the ages.

He says he's far too busy a man for marriage anyway.

Good.

Does that mean you're going with me?

How could I possibly go off with a man who thinks me capable of murder?

And loves you anyway.

I guess I just couldn't believe that I could get that lucky.

To have what I want.

To have you.

Too improbable for you?

Well, at least you know the worst about me. That I'll account for something.

Do I?

No more questions. No more curiosities.

All right.

Where did you go on Derby Day?

I went to see Johnny.

Johnny?

You're kidding. I thought he was no good. I thought he jilted you. He was.

did. I just wanted to be sure, that's all.

I took one look at him and I realized what an idiot I'd been and I left.

I seem to have the habit of choosing the wrong man, haven't I?

Hello, you two.

Thought I'd just pop by.

Make sure you are still alive?

I hope so.

Splendid. Then we've just got time to make the royal ascot meeting.

If we have it. Jimmy, ask us not for another week.

Quite. Just enough time for you to work out who's going to win the gold cup.

Well, are you coming?

Well, are we?

Let me rephrase the question.

Will you marry me?

And I think Susan knows.

I made Gordon cut me off with his will.

Now I know the worst about you.