All language subtitles for 112 - The Forensic Nun

Wine. Check.

Stalls. Allocated each and every one.

Miss Garfield, are you quite sure I'm
ready for this?

Of course you are, my dear. Your work
truly shines.

May I suggest to negate any unfavourable
comparisons that we divide the hall

into art and then craft.

Segregation. Poppycock.

Hello there. Hello there.

Father. Mrs. D.

Morning, Father.

As the art teacher in this village for
many years and as a graduate of the

College of Art... Oh, here we go. ..we
cannot refer to Meryl as an artist,

although she does make lovely trinkets.

Jewellery. Exactly.

You see, art is transcendental, and
crafts are just a trifle mundane.

Meryl, dear, don't be such a snob.

Arts and crafts must be inclusive,
wouldn't you agree, Father?

Yes, of course.

And on that note, I'd like to sign up
for the life -drawing competition,

Wonderful!

Although I gather my model has just been
struck down with measles. So, Father?

No, no, no, absolutely not. I have
someone in mind.

Just you leave it with me. You are an
angel, Mrs D.

Fine here.

Oh?

Are you partaking yourself?

Oh, heavens, no.

I just want everyone to be inspired and
get involved.

And what could I win?

Oh, isn't that lovely?

And you may even get your picture in the
Gazette.

Although, having seen your work, Mrs
Devine, I wouldn't give you hopes.

I'm far more likely to be my own visage.

From the very first moment you arrived
last summer, you have been a breath of

fresh air.

We all owe you a debt of gratitude for
organising this event.

Oh, I thank you, Father, I do try.

Are you expecting many to attend?

Oh, one hopes so, but who knows?

Well, actually, I think you might be
pleasantly surprised there.

Surprise!

I submitted a photograph of one of your
pieces and a little write -up of the

fur. What do you think?

What do I think?

I think you are an imbecile.

What have I done?

Don't just stand there staring at it.
Hang it up, please.

Oh, for goodness sake. Does that look
straight to you?

Do I have to do everything myself?

Miss Garfield.

What?

There's been a catastrophic error in the
positioning of our students.

I don't mind moving.

Cyril, I will not have a two -tier
system.

And you, stay where you are.

Ah, father, just the man.

I thought I'd pop along early. Then the
hand. You really are heaven -sent.

Measles has just eradicated my judge as
well. All for business.

Oh, dear.

Wonderful. I knew you'd step into the
breach.

Who could be more impartial than you?

She's been impossible ever since she saw
the journal.

Do you have any idea why?

Doesn't want that kind of attention,
apparently.

But why hide your light under a bushel?

We should put it on that side, because
if we put it on that side, it's not like

we should.

The Marmaduke's mail.

Welcome.

It's such an honor. Indeed.

What brings you to Kembleford?

This is a blind world. I simply had to
meet the lady responsible.

And you are?

Delighted to meet you.

Enchante.

Quite remarkable.

I'll take every last piece, yes?

Unfortunately, they aren't for sale. Oh,
my dear, I really can't take no for an

answer. Well, then, if you insist.

I very much do.

Ah, live drawing.

How serendipitous. I can never resist
the contest.

Alas, the competition is only open for
Campbell's Fordians.

Oh, I'm sure an exception can be made.

In the meantime...

I'll take a table to sell my wares, if
anyone in this village can afford them.

What an honour.

Cyril, your share with Meryl. Ah, the
perils of the countryside.

Anything I can do to help?

Yes, but you cannot take the wine,
Father. I think I'll be needing it very

It shouldn't be long.

I think you'll approve, Father.

Let's just say that God has provided.

No, Agatha, no.

Oh, no.

No, please!

Oh,

my giddy aunt.

Oh, a thousand apologies.

Oh, Agatha's brakes can be rather
temperamental, you see.

You stay away from me, crazy penguin.

Name and convent.

Sister Boniface, St. Agatha. Expect a
complaint to your superiors. You're a

minister for piety. I'm sure it was an
accident.

And you seem to be uninjured. This need
go no further. Unlike you, Father, I

don't forgive.

So nice to see you, Father.

Aye, quite, sister.

Please tell me you have another six
bottles under your habit.

Well, I'm sure I ordered twelve.

Oh, crumbs.

I'll take one of those by way of
compensation.

Wouldn't you agree?

Well, I suppose it's the least we can
do.

This particular one is an exceedingly
fine vintage.

I'll be the judge of that.

Right, time I was off.

Father Brown, we must have... tea when
you're next at St. Agnes.

And a slice of Battenberg.

Godspeed, all.

You funny little nun.

Father, I trust I have your support for
the life -drawing competition?

I would judge each work on merit, Mr.
Frogmore. Yes, but we mustn't let them

below. What do we have here?

A veritable hodgepodge, it seems.

Ah, just the ticket.

Oh, I am so honoured.

It's the very first time I've sold my
work.

And one very much expects it will be the
last.

I'm sorry?

Your work has no artistic merit
whatsoever, but if it's functional, it

scrape the mud off my shoe perfectly.

At least you can say it's been touched
by greatness.

That was uncalled for.

These look horribly familiar.

Time for lunch, everyone.

Off we go.

I'm not quite finished curating my
works.

Perhaps you could assist?

How can I say no?

Who's that supposed to be?

It's a very good likeness, Mrs Devine.
Thank you, Father.

It would appear that I am now judging
the competition.

Well, are you sure that's a good idea?

I must say, I wish I wasn't.

A renowned artist has entered the fray,
and Mr Frogmore will not take lightly to

losing. Well, at least I found a model,
Father.

Someone dapper and handsome, with a...

Quiet authority who just oozes
intelligence.

Why not give something new a try?

Nah, I don't have an artistic bone in me
body.

It's important to let your creative
spirit run free.

If you say so.

I don't get those at all.

Marmaduke's sales abstracts are the
toast of London. Not to my taste, I must

confess.

Oh, dear.

Has anyone seen Meryl? She was supposed
to take part in the competition.

Time, everyone.

That's time.

There we go.

Father, if you wouldn't mind.

Interesting.

So... Really, have you seen any good for
that?

Sorry, sir.

Hope you like it.

That's not like it.

My goodness.

Can I keep this?

For a nominal fee?

Right.

Well... Having considered all the
entries... Thank you very, very much. I

say I find winning difficult, but that
would be a lie. I'd like to dedicate

award to my wife and muse. I haven't
announced the winner yet.

Oh, come now.

The other work ranges from... How do I
put this?

Competent at best to truly execrable.

How dare you? That is not the spirit of
the fair.

Oh, calm down, woman. You give yourself
a hernia.

Surely the wine can't be that bad.

Everyone stand back.

He's dead.

Blood? Looks like red paint.

And from the colouration in Mr. Snell's
face and the smell of almonds, I would

suggest cyanide poisoning.

I'll be the judge of that, thank you,
Father.

So I didn't bag up the bottle, cork and
glass for the lab.

Rightio, sir. Come to work.

We'll find out who supplied the
offending wine.

I may be able to help with that.

Well, this is jolly exciting.

I'd like to see the photographs of the
scene and the report, if I may.

Who do you think you are, Father Brown?

I'm sorry?

I don't think you understand the gravity
of the situation, sister.

It is most befuddling.

Fact. The wine could not have been
compromised. I bottled it myself.

Therefore, the bottle opener must have
been poisoned.

The cork had not been fully penetrated.

Hmm.

Then I must surmise that the poison was
already in the glass.

Mr. Snell chose the glass himself. I
think he would have noticed some

Perhaps I might be permitted to examine
all the evidence in my laboratory.

Excuse me?

Well, I do have a master's degree in
biochemistry, Cantab. Not to mention

Lockhart is a particular hero of mine.

Fact. You are a nun.

A sample of the wine has been sent to a
police laboratory. I prefer to lay my

trust in professionals.

I see.

Well, there is one thing that you're
missing.

Motive. Hmm.

It says here that the deceased was about
to complain to your superiors after you

almost crashed into him.

That's hardly a motive for murder, Chief
Inspector.

Contractor Santagna, all wine production
has been suspended as a precaution. Yet

another blot on my copybook. I can't
imagine Reverend Mother will be pleased.

Livid is a word I would use.

It is inconceivable that Sister Boniface
would take a life.

That, Father, is why I'm giving her the
benefit of the doubt, for now.

Let us hope the wine sample comes back
clear. In the meantime, Sister, do not

leave the area. That'll be all.

Surely there must be some other
explanation.

Of course there is, Sergeant.

And we will find it.

I knew I could rely on you, Father.

Always.

You've investigated together before?

Oh, yes.

Some years ago now, at St Agnes. Two
deaths in a row.

Holy cow!

Brenda!

Sorry. Very sad affair.

Sister Boniface was most helpful.

How else could Mr Snell have ingested
the poison?

He ate something.

Oh, poisoned a pear drop, perhaps.

Or smoked something.

However it was administered, the poison
must have acted in the break before the

fair opened, when the hall was empty.

Yes, but why would anyone want to kill
him?

Mr Snell greatly upset Miss Plunkett
just before lunch.

Did he indeed?

And there was something unusual on the
body.

Banknotes smudged with red paint.

I think a rigorous examination of the
crime scene is in order, sister.

Tomorrow morning?

Father, I can think of nothing I would
enjoy more.

How are you, sister?

Somewhat excited.

I've been putting together a crime kit,
if you will.

Camera, torch, magnifying glass, gloves,
aluminium powder, luminol. You have

come prepared.

Fudge -buried cream.

Yes.

I'll take care of that.

Father Brown.

Between you, me, and the Lord, sister.

No sign of any red paint.

Anything?

Just this, it seems.

Thieves in the mud.

From Mr Snail's shoes.

Fascinating.

I couldn't help noticing that yesterday
you said you had another blot on your

copybook. Yes.

I am by the persona non grata at the
moment.

My former lab. I sort of, um... Yes?

Blew it up.

I see.

I was experimenting, you see, with new
fertilisers when the ammonium nitrate

accidentally crossed paths with the
Bunsen burner.

This whole business with the wine, it
couldn't have come at a worse time.

Between us, Father, I'm a little bit
unhappy at St Agnes.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Have you thought about asking for a
transfer?

I couldn't possibly, Father.

St Agnes has been my home for years.

Sister, metal polish.

Bravo, Father.

Yes, certain metal cleaning solution
contained potassium cyanide, a highly

and fast -acting poison.

This could well be our murder weapon.
And yet the team itself is no longer

Are you sure we should be reopening?

I mean, a man has died.

It's patently clear he was a boil on the
bottom of humanity.

So why should we let him spoil the
cultural event of the year?

Do hurry along, Meryl. Stop dilly
-dallying. Don't be cross.

I'm going back for my jewellery box.

Back at my door.

My darling girl, in life you must have
the courage of your convictions.

But Marmaduke Snell hated my work. Oh,
who gives a fig? I love it.

Maybe next year.

Miss Garfield.

Miss Plunkett.

Father. Sister. Oh, dear. I don't
imagine yesterday was good for business.

Oh, I'm quite certain the wine was not
responsible.

May we have a word with Miss Plunkett?

No. Well, if you like.

Don't be long, Meryl.

We just wondered if you knew where your
metal cleaner is.

On my stall?

It's not there now.

We think it may have something to do
with Mr Snell's death.

And I understand he was rather
unpleasant to you yesterday.

This is all my fault.

Why is that, Miss Blunkett?

If I hadn't have publicised the affair,
then Mr Snell wouldn't have come.

And he wouldn't be dead.

You could never have known what would
happen.

May I ask where you were during the
lunch break?

At home.

I couldn't face him, Mr Snell.

Although I did pop back to collect my
handbag.

I see.

Did you observe anything suspicious?

No.

But I did hear shouting through the
back.

Marmaduke Snell.

And?

I'm fairly sure it was Miss Garfield.

I couldn't hear what about.

You don't think it's significant, do
you, Father?

Never seen it before in my life.

Thank you.

That'll be all.

Although I don't suppose you'll have any
need for this any more.

Well, that rather depends.

We're rerunning the life drawing later.

Alas, I have a murder investigation to
conduct.

As Marmaduke Snell's last work, it must
be worth a fortune.

I suppose I could spare one hour.

Tickety -boo.

I'll see you here just before 3pm.

Excellent. Excellent.

Oh, and Chief Inspector, please assure
me you're making some progress.

Oh, my men are tracking down the
victims' lodgings right now. We do have

suspect in mind.

Good day.

Please.

Just a little pick -me -up. Feel free to
try.

Sister. Yes?

May we ask you a question, Miss
Garfield?

Why, of course.

A little bird tells us that you may have
had an argument with Miss Nell before

his death.

And which little bird is this?

Miss Plunkett.

May we ask what the argument was about?

Well, after the way he spoke to Meryl, I
told him I wouldn't sell.

Then he started shouting that I'd made a
verbal contract.

How did you respond?

Well, I had no choice but to allow the
deal to calm him down, keeping the fare

on track.

Though his death does mean you get to
keep your work.

I'd hardly commit murder for that.

Although, of course, now I wish I had
insisted that he left.

I'll regret that for the rest of my
days.

Thank you, Miss Garfield.

Can I get either of you some tea?

No, thank you. We'll be on our way.

need to know more about Marmaduke Snell
if we only knew where he was staying.

The seeds I found in the mud.

I've had an idea.

Bingo.

Ingenious.

I must say, Father, this is all jolly
good fun.

Yes, I know.

Ah, looks as if someone may have already
beaten us to it.

A murderer, perhaps?

Did they find what they were looking
for?

have here?

Dearest agent, unavailable until the
26th.

Cancel RCA Angela.

Renting in dreary Kembleford. Oh, how
rude.

To collect something of mine. Yours,

Marmaduke.

To collect what?

This bum.

You want this place torn apart,
Sergeant?

For you, sir.

Chief Inspector.

How fortuitous to see you here.

Yes. What a coincidence.

Yes.

Well, there's been a development.

Sister Boniface, can you confirm that
you personally filled the bottle you

handed to the deceased?

Affirmative.

Then my hands are tied.

Sister Boniface, I'm arresting you on
suspicion of murder.

Chief Inspector, no.

There was cyanide in the wine, Father.
The evidence is incontrovertible.

You are not obliged to say anything, but
anything you do say may be given in

evidence. Sergeant.

This way, please.

Edgar, you must know that... is wrong.

Evidence suggests otherwise. It is my
duty to follow that evidence.

But not blindly.

There is no need to lock her up.

Unfortunately, Sister Boniface handed
the deceased the only poison bottle.

It doesn't make any sense.

Cyanide is used in wine making, is it
not?

Yes, but... Father, a man is dead.

Now, I thank you all to leave now.

Yes.

Of course, Chief Inspector.

I must see Sister Boniface.

It is most frustrating.

If only I could examine the evidence in
my laboratory.

So for now, we have to concentrate on
the why.

Why kill Mr. Snell?

Perhaps there was something pertinent in
the letter.

For instance, who is RCA Angela?

Oh, of course.

RCA. Royal College of Art.

I must speak to Mr. Frogmore.

Oh, um...

Before you go, Father, I must say that
if this has been my last leap of

it's been most enjoyable.

And just like the last time, I feel so
thoroughly alive, which is ironic,

really, as I approach my potential
death.

That is not going to happen.

We will get to the bottom of this, I
assure you.

She just needs to stick her head above
the parapet. Yeah, well, perhaps it's a

bit of a blessing.

Mal's work was a bit of a nice saw.

You know, I haven't decided where I'm
going to put this yet.

Cyril, dear, when you started out, was
your work transcendental?

No, no, not at all, no.

But you were encouraged?

Yeah, yeah, by a pharaoh, my art
teacher.

Well, then perhaps what Meryl needs
right now is for you to turn on Mr

not Marmaduke Snell.

Can I help you, Father?

I do hope so, Mr Frogmore. I couldn't
help noticing that Marmaduke Snell

referred to your works as horribly
familiar.

Did you perhaps study together at the
Royal College of Art?

No, no.

I don't think so, no.

May I see your wallet?

Please indulge me.

Ah, yes, of course.

Ah, yes.

The same paint found on the banknotes in
Mr. Snell's pocket.

Yes, I'm in the middle of an artwork.
It's a very messy, fragile piece.

And, um...

All right, all right.

I met him at lunchtime and I gave him
some money to guarantee his

silence over something.

Something?

Something about the time you spent
together at the Royal College of Art?

Did you perhaps fail to graduate, Mr
Frogmore?

Well, as a village art teacher, such
knowledge would be ruinous. Father,

You should get me some of your hat.

Of course.

Oh, um, didn't the snail say anything of
note to you?

No, not really.

Other than he was about to go on his
honeymoon.

He was recently married? Yeah, to his
muse.

Molly, I think he said. Yeah, yes.

Molly.

Do you think I could get my money back?

Well... If you explain yourself to Chief
Inspector Sullivan... Oh,

but perhaps I'll leave it there. I don't
want to go too fast and all that.

But if you'll excuse me, please. Yes.

Perhaps the key lies in discovering what
Mr Snell came to collect.

Perhaps he had found it already.

Well, we'd better find out what it is
before Sister Boniface is charged.

Or sent to gallows.

If we could only find out how the bottle
was tampered with.

But only Sister Boniface can help with
that.

I have an idea.

But we have to be quick, and it's risky.

Especially for me.

Well, what is it?

I have to do a bit of digging at the
players.

And I won't be able to make the fare,
I'm afraid.

You've just missed the Chief Inspector.
He's gone to the Arts and Crafts Fair.

Ah, yes.

I was rather counting on that, Sergeant.

Because I have to ask you for one or two
favours.

I could lose my job over this, Father.

I'm certain it won't come to that.

I assure you, we'll be back in a jiffy,
long before the Chief Inspector.

Can't thank you enough, Sergeant. Just
be as quick as you can.

Don't suppose we can trouble you for Mr.
Snell's personal effect?

You are a true purchase, Inspector.

A living, breathing work of art.

Yes, well, if you say so.

Well, I'm not sure I can... Yes, what is
the point, eh?

Better spend your whole life fearful
than not do anything at all.

You know?

Actually, I think I will take part.

There we go.

All right, everyone.

Three, two, one.

Where's Mrs Devine?

I haven't a clue.

I'm taking a place.

She is at an audition at the Players.

On a Sunday?

Well, that's what she said.

And Father Brown?

He is helping her learn her lines.

Something's going on here.

Chief Inspector.

Please accept my apologies.

What on earth am I supposed to do now,
Chief Inspector?

Oh, for goodness sake. Brenda, sit.

M &M.

29th May 1954.

Just over a year ago.

I'm not sure we should be destroying
evidence.

No. It's only by doing so that we can
see... Bingo.

What do you see?

Take a look, Father.

Microscopic damage, invisible to the
naked eye, especially after the cork was

damaged by the corkscrew. The culprit
injected the cork with a very fine

So Mr Snell, and sadly the police, were
oblivious.

A needle.

Excellent, Mr... Mr Frogmore said Mr
Snell mentioned an impending honeymoon.

Mr Fuddling, why wait so long?

Well, perhaps his wife, Molly, can
explain.

And take all this back.

to the police station, but you must
hurry.

Hello, sir.

Wasn't expecting you back so soon, sir.

I think Father Brown's up to something.

Have you seen Mrs. Devine?

No, sir.

Heard she had an audition.

Did you indeed?

Sir, wait.

At least she's where she's supposed to
be.

I do hope these are flattering.

Ah, Father.

Just in time.

Judging duties right away.

Where's Chief Inspector Sullivan?

Erm, he had to run.

Father?

What do you think?

Oh, sorry.

I shouldn't have bothered.

It's charming.

Don't give up, Brenda.

Oh, thanks.

I would.

Without doubt, the winner.

Look at that.

You've been a real arsehole. Well done,
Meryl.

Congratulations, dear.

I don't believe it.

Maybe I should set up my stall after
all.

Well, come on, what are you waiting for?
I can help. Just for a moment, please,

Mr Frogmore.

Miss Garfield, can I have a word?

Come on.

Well done.

Thank you, Mr Frogmore.

Can we keep this brief, Father?

I'm afraid not, Molly.

Who?

I now understand your reaction to seeing
the photographs of your work in the

journal. Because you knew it could
enable Mr. Snell to find you.

I really haven't the foggiest, sir. When
you searched his cottage, you missed

this.

Mr. Snell didn't come here to collect a
thing.

He came to collect a person.

Your marriage was a few days before you
arrived in Kembleford.

I met him two years ago.

Had what you might call a whirlwind
romance.

He was the most charming, magnetic
artist I'd ever met.

It was only right after the wedding that
all became clear.

I'd made a terrible mistake.

My dear, from now on, the only thing
you'll be making is a home.

Not forgetting the pitter -patter of
tiny feet.

But art is everything to me.

And it will remain so through my work.

What greater honour is there for you
than to be my muse?

I won't give up my practice. Oh, you're
so spirited. It's endearing, it really

is. But you must never forget your vows.

Love, honour and obey.

No, no, I won't have any tears.

No one will ever love you as much as I
do.

Ah.

Hello, everyone.

What's the joke?

So

I

left him on our wedding day with some of
his savings.

I should have known he'd find me and toy
with me until we were finally alone.

You nearly got away with it.

changing your name, hiding away in this
little provincial hellhole, but you can

never hide from me, Molly.

I won't go back with you.

If you don't, I'll tell the police just
how much money you stole from me to fund

your little enterprise. You'll be locked
up.

If you really loved me, you would let me
go.

It's my duty to save you from yourself.

None of this is real.

You remember the promise you made?

Till death do us part.

Then you leave me no choice.

Clever girl.

Meet me at Chipping Way after the fair.
And then we can finally have our

honeymoon.

And you'll be nice.

You couldn't go back to him.

So you poisoned his wine.

How could I have?

I think I'm right in assuming that you
are a diabetic. I noticed the glucose

tablets earlier.

What of it?

Well, therefore, you used needles to
inject insulin.

And I presume you used one of those to
draw up Miss Plunkett's metal polish.

Which you then injected through the cork
to Mr. Snell's bottle.

not sorry he's dead.

Miss Garfield, no.

You didn't. I had to be free of him.

This is all my fault.

No, no, he would have found me
eventually.

And now you must repent and confess your
sin.

But how can I ever do that?

If you do not, then Mr. Snell's death
will exact a very high price indeed.

Your immortal soul and Sister Boniface's
life.

Surely no one will believe it and
none... With no other explanation, what

is there to believe?

I really don't want to go, Father.

So I finally found my... family.

You made me believe I was an artist.

And that's exactly what you are, my
dear.

Don't you ever forget it.

Don't worry about your shop.

We'll look after it for you.

So, Molly, time to stop running.

How was the audition?

It's a bit odd that it was on a Sunday.

It was an emergency.

Someone dropped out.

Oh. Which part?

Lady Macbeth.

I see.

Gosh. What are you doing here now?

I hope you don't mind, sir. Mrs Devine
insisted on bringing Sister Bonnie fast

something nice to eat, sir.

You.

Hello.

Where is it?

She'd eaten it.

What was it?

It's all related, Battenberg. Both.

You're up something.

All of you.

Father!

How nice to see you.

Chief Inspector, I think it's time you
released Sister Bonifant.

Why on earth would I do that?

I have something to confess.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

It's been four days since my last
confession.

I'm ashamed to say that I have deceived
the police and borrowed evidence, on top

of which I've been neglecting my duties
as a bride of Christ.

God forgives you.

You have helped to save a soul, and
there is no more important work than

I have to confess.

I felt more exhilarated in the past few
days

than the last few years.

And that is because of you, Father.

Nonsense. It is because you have been
using your God -given talents, your

extraordinary scientific mind.

Thank you, Father.

I've taken your advice and requested a
transfer from St Agnes.

New beginnings present new
possibilities.

And it would be a waste if you did not
try to find a way to use your

exceptional gift for good.

Time I was off.

A new chapter begins.

At St Vincent's. Where's that, then?

Great slaughter.

Sounds ominous.

Oh, dear.

I fear Agatha is wearing sin.

Padley, I suggest you try something
motorised. I swear by my Hercules.

Well, thank you, Mrs Devine. And Brenda.

It's been a pleasure.

Oh, um, would you mind?

I'd hate to forget this moment.

Thank you so

much. We'll leave you both to say your
goodbyes.

Goodbye, sister.

Goodbye.

You really have been the most
inspirational future father.

We make a good team, sister.

I think I've found a new calling, thanks
to you.

I predict great things.

Until we meet again.