Original subtitles

500 years enduring perennial.

This be the time of our quincentennial.

Husband, wife, son and daughter, pray silent

for the story of this great slaughter.

No, no, no, Dottie.

Music needs to flow around my words like a river.

Dottie, do remember, your cue is the Reverend Mother symbolically handing

the key.

So sorry. I was worried I'd miss it.

No, fear not, Miss Dimble. That will be near impossible.

So the sisters wanted to be involved.

The Reverend Mother's idea, out with their heads held high.

But I agree with you, it seems an odd time to celebrate, staring down the

of St. Vincent's being sold off.

Apologies, Lord Sedgwick. No, you're right.

Their courage and enthusiasm is inspiring.

If I... Inspector, Mr Panatha here apparently has

a model of the proposed development which will need to be brought on stage

the speeches.

Right you are. Where is it?

Somewhere very safe.

Ruth?

Hello, Sam.

Ruth Penny.

In the flesh, or flash, as it were.

How lovely.

You know each other? We do.

Hello, Felix.

Hello, Ruth.

Sister. But how? Why?

Well, don't get excited, Sam. Things are wonderful with Kingsley.

I'm working.

A story on how the St. Vincent's development could be rolled out

I'll explain everything in my speech tomorrow.

Tomorrow is about great slaughter, Mr. Panasar, not world domination.

Lynn Goodwin, as our town's council leader, I shall be doing the unveiling.

I give you Lord Adam Sedgwick Towers.

Oh, my.

Yes, I thought you'd be impressed, sister.

Progress. Like a shark, we keep moving forward or we die.

Our last day before we're all separated.

Let's try to enjoy it.

That's right.

I'll be enjoying a hernia.

Your reward should be in heaven, sisters.

One briefcase bomb.

I remember that one. Thought I was a goner.

One ritual dagger.

And one brassiere.

Are you blushing, Sam?

That was a lethal murder weapon.

Oh, we had some fun, didn't we?

Our little family's breaking up.

There, there, Peggy.

To everything there is a season.

The time to laugh.

The time to... Shout.

Makes no odds to me who you are, dear.

It is a matter of simple physics. If you want me moved, you are going to have to

physically pick me up. Oh, my, it's really her.

For goodness sake, woman, my builder needs to take sight measurements.

All right, we're all emotional. This is hard for every one of us.

Oh, Lord Matthew Sedgwick, upon whose land we stand, the fact that I oppose

frankincense monster of a development is irrelevant.

Oh, you.

Horrible old battleaxe!

What on earth is going on?

This is a place of prayer, not a washerwoman's back fence.

Reverend Mother Adrian, may I introduce Sister Helena, esteemed archaeologist

and, well, something of a hero.

We are acquainted.

Helena.

Reverend Mother, I have written permission from the diocese to

document this glorious ancient chapel before it is butchered. Yes, and I try

to tell her I need... Young man, you do not own this land, not yet.

So until tomorrow, when contracts are exchanged, Sister Helena stays.

Sorry for raising my voice earlier.

Council elections are upon us.

I boarded at a convent school.

Life was a living hell.

Hated nuns ever since, no offense.

Nun taken.

Yes.

We'll talk at dinner.

Yes, sister?

Boniface, I've read all your papers.

Egypt, Machu Picchu, Ephesus. Just extraordinary.

If you'll forgive, you are one of the reasons I felt called to the sisterhood,

just to know that you're a sister here yourself.

All right, all right. That's enough bootlicking.

If you must know, I've admired your work from afar, too.

Your forensic deductions, your eye for detail.

Golly. Well, um, one detail from your writings.

You already examined this chapel a number of years ago.

Did you miss something?

The Lord works in mysterious ways, sister.

We shall speak further.

Yes.

Another just like that?

It's lovely.

Religious.

Oh.

You have a journalist's eye, Ruth Penny.

Seek from my mum.

She must be so proud.

Actually, I don't know.

Is she no longer with us?

No, she... She got mixed up with some religious types.

Left me with my dad.

Are we done?

Yes, thank you.

Good Lord.

No, no.

Just his helper wrestling this tiny batch of forensic records.

Well, lucky you found a good Samaritan.

Lord Sedgwick, I presume.

Matthew, please.

I could hardly leave Sister Boniface to shift all these on her own. I'm already

making her homeless.

Well, perhaps we could assuage some of that guilt with an interview.

Ruth Penny, journalist.

I notice they're naming the development after your father.

My only request.

Loved St Vincent's so dearly.

I just wish there was another way.

Sister Peter, please, run. Sister Peter, please.

What is it?

This is Sister Helena's writing.

Return post haste, vitally important.

I can drive.

Oh, yes.

Goodness.

There's no two ways about it.

She's really, truly dead.

What in the name of all the things happened?

Blunt force bopped to the back of the skull.

I'm afraid it's murder.

Another one?

Here?

Now listen to me, Inspector.

I am not...

Having the sisterhood's parting legacy be a brutal, unsolved killing.

Understood. Sister Boniface?

No bruising.

No broken nails or signs of a struggle. I think she was struck from behind,

unaware.

Sister, what are these flags that are on her habits?

Oh, yes.

Ivory -coloured lipophilic compound.

Wax.

From its hue and pigmentation, it's the sort utilised in a traditional Catholic

pillar candle.

I believe we have our killer candlestick. Oh, no, no, don't.

So, it was opportunistic, grabbed in the moment.

But why?

Why indeed?

Did Sister Helena say anything else at all when she gave you the note?

No.

Actually, yes.

She was walking around, nervous, and whispered, I should tell you,

in secello, in conspectu.

Latin. In the chapel, in plain sight.

It does suggest she'd either seen or found something.

Her camera might contain a clue.

If we can still use your darkroom.

Expose the lead.

Yes.

Ingenious idea, Peggy.

Let's get this all to the lab.

One last time.

The chapel was out of bounds because of the model. For everyone aside from the

nun, Sister Helena, and you two.

You think one of us did this?

What, we did see you argue with her?

Yes. Over getting started on building work.

Why would we complicate things?

What does this mean for the quintennial? Do I need to cancel?

Just keep calm and carry on. But let us do our job.

And this chapel is now closed to everyone.

Journalists included.

Oh, come on, Sam.

Don't be such a killjoy.

Sister gets her last case. Why can't I play too?

Oh, the old team together one last time.

If we're going to do this, we do it properly. No games.

Maybe you could check the bugle, see if there's anything on Sister Helena's

past. Inspector Gillespie, you are on.

The film's drying.

I'm off to see Reverend Mother about her records.

I know someone's been brutally murdered, but... I'm really going to miss doing

this. You and me both.

Peggy, dear.

I mean, what are we going to do without you here, sister?

It's hardly like we can replace you, is it?

Felix, Peggy, it's murder.

You know what to do.

Mind the camera!

What on

earth is this?

Sister? Sister?

What is it? A fingerprint?

No, no. It seems our killer had presence of mind to wipe those away.

However, their waxy weapon remains illuminating. Have a look at this.

They left their mark in the wax.

An indentation containing form and detail, hitherto invisible to the human

Deduction, it was made as the killer gripped the candlestick holder to

the fatal blow.

So it was something that they wore.

Presumably on their wrist.

Precisely. Find that object and I'll catch our candlestick killer wax

Ruth may have something.

That was quick.

Well, Norman was already putting together materials on Lynn and Ronnie.

willing to share for a favour.

Oh, you may owe him a date, Peggy.

Oh, thanks a bunch.

So, what we know.

Sister Helena used to be a resident at St Vincent's.

What we didn't know, she used to teach at a local Catholic school called St.

Peter's. Sister's success at St. Peter's pupil wins national essay competition.

She was scary even back then. Look at the girl.

Wait, is that... Oh, no.

Sister Helena was the teacher who made your life a living hell.

Well, I saw her this morning, just... standing there.

It all came flooding back to me.

The humiliating, goading, demanding things of me I could never deliver.

Did you speak to Highlawn?

It's too late for lies, Lynne.

I wanted her to know what she'd done to me.

I felt this urge.

When I did, it was so odd.

I wondered when you might muster the courage to speak.

That's right, Lynn. I remember you.

You have no idea how unhappy you made me.

No idea.

I'm afraid it was a habit of mine. I was always hardest on my favourites. Those

girls who...

I could imagine achieving great things, going to the world with just the right

amount of push.

Look at you now, leader of the council, holding your own in a man's world,

shaping your community.

We may not agree on how, but I have to say, I'm proud of you.

I always wondered where I got my resilience from.

Maybe it was her all along.

After that, I walked around outside.

But days, I did hear raised voices.

But I couldn't tell you who.

The War of Roses did good times bring.

There was Henry VII, our new Tudor king.

And a theatre and a poetry to prick a tear.

Courtesy of our bard, Mr. William.

Shakespeare.

Doctor, sorry.

Not at all, Your Highness.

It's terribly heavy.

For goodness sake, could you just keep going?

Am I still sparkle -like? Of course you're still dead, Tom. You've got an

through your head.

Sister Peter, could you please stop wielding that broadsword?

Well, Mrs.

Clam, where on earth do you think you are going?

I am going to divest myself of this ridiculous costume. It's extremely

cumbersome. And besides, I have to be back at the office for the last post.

No, you do not.

People, please, please, people, can we just get the last stanza

right? The symbolic passing of the key. Are you ready, Reverend Mother?

I would hope so.

But what?

We shall see.

It is time for the sisters to pass on.

Perhaps we should leave this bit for tomorrow.

Sister, Lynn Goodwin's bracelet.

We found. No one witnessed her walking outside yesterday.

But we've still no idea who the raised voices belong to.

Well, I have a feeling my little putty pattern might get us close.

Now, I wouldn't bet the convent on it, but I think this has the appearance of

Guramukhi's script.

Possibly Sikh.

That could make sense. We found something in the convent records.

Remember how Ronnie Panesar said his mum was taken from him?

That's right.

Seduced by weird religious types.

Right, well, look at this.

A file on a young woman who was brought into St Vincent's by Sister Helena.

And her name was Randex Panesar.

Excellent work, Button.

Right. I'm going to go and talk to Ronnie.

Inspector, given that I remember the specifics of the case, it might be wise

I join you.

Follow me.

Right.

Sister.

Moving to England.

A mixed -race family.

Took its toll on Mum.

And you lot took advantage of her.

So this is about revenge against Sister Eleanor.

Revenge?

I just wanted to turn that stain of a convent into something that helps

families, not tear them apart.

Mr. Panesar, I was here when they brought your mother in.

I can't imagine how hard it was for you.

No?

Let me tell you.

I woke up to a mum just gone.

No contact allowed, no letters allowed.

I'm afraid that's not true.

No, my dad told me. You cut us off.

Sister Helena brought your mother to St. Vincent's because she had been

hospitalized.

Hospitalized? Who by?

Your father, dear.

I'm so sorry, but the marriage was a violent one.

Your mother was terrified. She tried to take you with her, but he threatened

her.

All St. Vincent's did was give her refuge until she could get back to

India. She said she was up north, that she wouldn't speak to us.

I need to cross -check, but the match is far from perfect.

When did you realise that it was Sister Helena that took her in?

I didn't. Not until now.

Then what was the argument about?

I think Goodwin said she heard raised voices.

Whoever those voices were.

They were nothing to do with me.

Another dead end.

Did Sister Helena's photographs give us anything else to work with? They're

mostly just shots of the altar.

She took rather a shine to this bronze plaque.

This inscription.

St. Vincent's convent. Doors always open to those in need.

Here there is goodness. Here there is goodness.

In plain sight.

Can the ransacking of this house Hell, old place, not wait until tomorrow.

The rivets were already loose.

Sister Helena was hunting for something, and I dare say she found it.

Wax seal, recently broken.

Sister Helena took what was inside?

Or our killer.

This jar was hastily replaced after the murder, so...

Lady logic implies whatever was inside was relevant.

How long has the plaque been there?

It was put up in memory of the late Earl by his family when he passed on some

six months ago.

You're sure?

Certain. Poor man.

We hadn't seen him for weeks. He was very ill.

Could this be something that affects the building development?

Possibly. It still implicates both suspects. Lim would lose her entire

and Ronnie his investments.

Of course.

There is one other person who might have known about this.

She's right.

Well, I do believe it's cocktail hour.

So you knew there was a capsule behind the plaque?

Absolutely. I was the one who had it put there.

Father's dying wish.

And you can tell us what was inside?

I feel like I can speak at all after these whiskeys.

He said it was a photograph of him as a boy on the day of his confirmation at

the chapel.

So...

He would remain part of St. Vincent's.

But the jar was already sealed, so I never saw inside.

Are you thinking it's something that could help us?

I'm thinking how desperately you need this tale to go through.

Miss Penny, I can't deny enjoying your company, but your subtext leaves

something to be desired.

Your father left you with debt.

Yet, my editor in London tells me that after he died, you were quite the man

about town.

Circumstances change.

Is that what your argument with Mr.

Helena was about?

Lynn Goodwin heard raised voices.

It was you.

I didn't want everyone to know.

It was after we locked horns that morning. I went to smooth things over.

Miss Goodwin and Mr Panathar are only trying to keep things on track.

They both have much to lose.

You wish to talk of loss whilst casting the sisters asunder?

What? Do you think I want this?

Do you think I somehow enjoy it?

My father left me crushed under impossible debt with no choices.

None!

I didn't even get a chance to grieve, because right away I was forced to be

villain or become the earl who brought down his family.

I knew your father.

In his last correspondence to me, he told me he'd made provision to avoid

And I know that the Sedgwick family estate was in fine fettle until your

died. It took one Lord Matthew Sedgwick to bring us all to this.

Is this true?

My father was no J .P. Morgan, but he was a man of faith and he balanced his

books.

I can claim neither.

I, uh... lost everything on the stock exchange.

What did Sister Helena mean when she said your father made provisions?

I don't know.

But if there's some secret pot of money somewhere, I am all bloody ears.

Hi.

You don't have to eat your dinner off it.

Yes, just... I wanted to leave it clean.

Silly, but I just keep thinking I don't quite know what I'm going to do without

you next door every night.

They have snoring up in Grimsby too.

Here.

I know I'm all the way down in Hastings, but we can write.

I wish I was like you.

Nothing gets to you.

You may be right.

When he was young, me and Alfie learnt a lesson.

It'd be un -tough.

You feel tough.

So I'm trying.

Right now, I don't feel too tough today.

Morning, Reverend Muller.

You've met our solicitors.

It brings little pleasure to confirm we exchanged contracts at midday.

Directly after speeches.

I just wanted to...

Thank you for what you did for my mother.

And I suppose I wondered... Her address?

Sister? Yes, Lord?

Oh, no, sorry.

Oh, gosh, what a day's off.

I was just attempting to replicate the wax imprint with our two

objects collected from the suspects.

Alas, no match.

Maybe it was something else that one of the suspects was wearing or holding.

Good news.

Oh, the paper have spiked my puff piece and they want my scintillating crime

story instead.

Oh, well, I suppose every unsolved cloud has a silver lining. Yes, the only

problem is they want it for tomorrow and they've already sent the courier to

collect the prints.

I don't suppose your darkroom's still operational?

One final hurrah for the hydroquinone.

Why not? Oh, you're a godsend.

Right, I'd better be going.

Sit again.

I just want to say, um... I'm sorry.

Honestly, yesterday, I thought that this would give us a chance to... I don't

know, in some way... If I could undo all of this... Keep us

together... I'm... I'm

afraid that... I've let us down.

There's one thing that's certain.

You could never do that.

We're family.

The thing about family is that even when you're far apart,

you're together.

The Lord has a plan.

I can't say.

It's like a grenade went off. This was Sister Helena's room.

Yeah, we've come to pack it up.

It was neat as a pin first thing this morning, I swear.

They never found it.

Sister?

Whatever Sister Helena discovered in the chapel.

We assumed that the killer took it from her, but we were wrong.

I'm going to go through her notes and materials again.

Right, you two. Reverend Mother will be waiting.

It's showtime.

A touch of the stage right, perhaps.

Such a simple thing.

Hand it over.

Hand it over.

Today I wanted to show people.

My sisters can go from strength to strength.

But now I'm here, and it's now.

I know as well as

anyone, life can take things from us.

Things we'll miss every day.

But...

What shows the most strength is letting go.

Oh, there you all are. Come along, everybody.

Places, people, places.

Come along, come along. You're late.

Chop, chop.

the time of our quintennial.

They're the cooks, aren't they? I fear I'll be here any minute.

Oh, well, no, ideally they'd be dry.

We'll just have to have them bought off the press, so to speak.

Oh, the front page.

I think we have a new headline.

Ruth, what is this? It's the coat of arms on the model.

And there it is.

Of course.

It all makes total sense. Well, there what is?

I need to go.

This instant.

Now the first Lord Sedgwick acquired some

land. The hallowed soil upon which we stand.

And with spade and shovel and saw and pick.

Sedgwick Manor rose brick by brick.

And after starting his lineage of Sedgwick infants, they built

on the edge of their land St.

Vincent's.

At first, an abbey of monks and misters, it became a

convent of nuns.

A fledgling town that grew into a place of great renown. And 500

years of habitation saw a post office, a tea shop, a

fine police station.

And under the steadfast Hedwig wing, great slaughter began.

To sun, the key to each and every one. And today, these

are exciting new chapters start with St. Vincent still at this town's very

heart.

No longer a convent.

But what?

We shall see.

For it's time.

Wow. Well, that went surprisingly without calamity.

Now then, to the future.

As leader of the town council, it's my great pleasure.

To give you Lord Adam Sedgwick Towers.

Oh, look at that. That's a beautiful nose.

Heavens above.

What a hideous carbuncle.

It looks like a spaceship.

Does it fly?

Adam Sedgwick Towers is not just a development.

It's a passion project. A step into the future.

In this era of prosperity and progress, our aim is to keep the spirit of St

Vincent's Convent alive while providing much -needed accommodation for the area.

Impressive.

Isn't it?

Using your car to arrive at the police station before Sister Peter when she

bought me the note made it seem almost impossible that you could have committed

the murder even though you did.

Are you out of your mind?

Apartments are generous, modern, and aspirational. When you placed that

behind the plaque, you had no idea it contained something to save St. Vincent.

But with Sister Helena's remarks, you knew you'd sealed your own fate.

All I knew was the nonsense she spouted when I confronted her.

It took one Lord Matthew Sedgwick to bring us all to this.

The man who found out that his father planned to bequeath the convent to the

sisters. So he cut him off from the world.

No more solicitors, no more pastoral visits, no more letters on the subject.

you failed to spot his code to me in his final correspondence.

Find proof.

Insacelo inconspectu.

And find it, I have.

What have you found?

Where is it?

Tell me!

It's a cello inconspectu.

It's a bluff.

There's nothing to find.

Then why did you ransack her room this morning?

You have no proof.

You're going to shame me to stop me leaving my mark.

No, that's just the problem, Lord.

You did leave your mark.

The signet ring that you usually wear on your right hand.

A wax letter seal that leaves the imprint of your family crest.

Photographs show you were wearing it on the day of the murder.

My guess is you found remnants of wax and then removed it.

A forensic confession.

Signed and sealed.

Literally.

Tell me!

Get away from me. Stop, Lord Cedric. Lord Cedric, you wish to say

a few words?

There's nowhere to go.

Don't make a scene. Shut up.

Shut up! Just come with us.

Matthew, it's over.

I said shut up!

Sister, know it all.

I am walking away.

I am not going to prison for this.

It was you!

How could you kill an innocent nun?

Innocent? That nosy bint nearly ruined everything.

Nobody cares about St Vincent's. Nobody cares about you stupid nuns moping and

mooning about in your ridiculous penguin outfit.

You're a stain on this town, you hear me?

Beggars squatting on my lap!

Oh, Cedric, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Sister

do not have to say anything unless you wish to do so, but what you say may be

given inevitably.

Oh, yeah.

Give yourselves a big hand.

Like it makes a difference.

The sale will go through, regardless.

It's true, isn't it?

Won't change a ruddy thing.

I don't think we can stop them exchanging contracts, so they'll take

in...

Five minutes.

Yes.

Shall we?

Reverend Mother?

Of course.

Incicello.

Inconspectio.

She left me the same message. But what was she trying to tell me?

In the chapel in plain sight.

Should we go back to search?

A different chapel.

Yes. She knew that Matthew was prowling around and it wasn't safe. So she hid

it.

In plain sight.

Oh, good golly gosh.

The ownership of St. Vincent's Convent and the land it hereby occupies shall...

Mother!

Land thieves.

Which sister Helen have found transferring ownership of St. Vincent's

the Catholic Diocese and its sisters?

Signed by Adam Sedgwick, Earl of Great Slaughter.

It belongs to us.

Yes.

St. Vincent belongs to us! Hallelujah!

It's a brilliant miracle!

Hallelujah!

You cut it fine this time, sister, but you did it.

I believe we did.

They're here. I wanted you all to have a copy. Front page exclusive.

Holy Homicide by Ruth Bennet.

Congratulations. Are you going to be going back to writing full -time, love?

Kingsley would miss me too much.

Alas, Jamaica, I'm afraid.

Did it happen to mention how it utterly derailed my investment?

No mention of that, no.

Only how your story has inspired the local council to build a new women's

and partner with a certain developer.

If they were.

But, uh, Helena, how?

That's it, sisters.

Work those wimples. Straight to the laboratory.

Sure.

You intend to carry on this forensic business, then?

Well, I had thought to.

Good.

I know, I know I haven't been the most supportive of advocates, but I confess,

I really did think it was over for us all.

I'm proud of you, sister.

Well, thank you, Reverend Mother.

Oh, and, um, if you tell anyone I said that, it's 10 ,000 Hail Marys. Is that

clear?

Sister, listen to this.

And so, with the crime solved, we're left with proof that a town is more than

just its buildings.

Oh, that's so true.

Go on, son.

For 500 years, Great Slaughter has grown around families, building, living and

loving. This place is its people.

And now the convent is safe for 500 years more. The nuns of St Vincent's

their home.

The town keeps its heart, and the family of Great Slaughter Police keep their

much -loved sister.

So criminals, beware!