All language subtitles for 114 - The last Supper

Thank you.

How long is it since you've seen your
friend?

Ten years, before she became a huge
success.

Oh, here she is.

Oh, my goodness, Isabel.

Harriet!

My husband, David.

Isabel, my dear friend.

How do you do? Very well.

This is our wonderful priest, Father
Brown.

How nice to meet you both.

And how very exciting to have a food
fair here in Kembleford.

Isabel will tell you how much I've been
inspired by my darling Kembleford to

cook.

Izzy, do you remember the parsnip soup
party?

Oh, that was so funny.

I don't think Mother's Kitchen was ever
the same again.

So I thought, this is the place.

This is the place to introduce people to
food from all around the world. And to

sell some books.

David is also... Yes, my publisher.

Stroke of luck.

Harriet also runs a cookery school.

Can you imagine the response from these
dear, dear people when they taste

chicken tikka, Szechuan prawns,
vegetable masala?

Well, I know none of those dishes, but
my stomach is already rumbling.

And Izzy, tomorrow, you must be my
administrative sous -chef. Oh, no, I'm

sure. I've named it Kemble Food.

What do you think?

Oh, it reminds me of when we organised
the school dance together.

Oh, yes, you must have one of these.

Um, incidentally, there's a very
important hotelier coming on the final

dinner to hopefully give me the nod to
do this nationally.

No pressure.

Right.

Off we go.

Chop, chop.

A culinary adventure in Kimbleford.

Smells really good.

She's a what prawns?

Szechuan prawns, I believe.

Shall we?

Oh,

you look stressed, Mrs D.

I was only supposed to be helping.

Are you all right, Chef Reedy?

Is your sous chef here yet? No, he is
ill. Oh, my goodness.

It will be fine. I'll just have to
manage.

Thank you very much.

Everyone, may I introduce Lei Yan, head
chef of Five Spice Province, one of

London's best Chinese restaurants, and
Rafi Faridi, owner of the Cinnamon

Ruby... one of the best Indian
restaurants in Birmingham.

Chef Reedus, Father Brown, welcome to
Kembleford.

Good luck.

Can't wait to taste chicken tikka.

Ladies and gentlemen, Chef Yen's cooking
demonstration will begin in five

minutes.

Chef Yen, Father Brown, welcome to
Kembleford. Good luck.

I'm excited to try Szechuan prawns, if
that's the correct pronunciation.

You should have heard me try to
pronounce Worcestershire sauce for the

time.

Harriet, this is Chief Inspector Edgar
Sullivan.

How do you do?

Oh, hello.

Yes.

I was beginning to wonder if you even
existed.

Would you mind popping those over there
for me?

What are you making?

I am making samosas and pecoras,
beautifully spiced all the way from

The spices and the love are from Bihar.

I like ordinary food, really.

It's just because I haven't had much
chance to try all this stuff.

Oh, well then, perhaps you could do a
small favour for me.

Can I help, Mrs. Delaney? You could hide
me.

Harriet's just told me that this special
guest at the dinner tomorrow is Hugo

Paul Blythe.

From the Paul Blythe Hotel in Mayfair.

I've got to organise it, with Harriet
breathing down my neck. And you know me

with organisation.

We're all here and ready to help. Thank
you, Father.

This just reminds me of the school dance
she mentioned. She delegated everything

to me and took all the credit.

It's a very interesting saucepan.

It's a wok.

The narrow base helps cook food very
quickly.

Oh, impressive.

As is your running your own restaurant.

belonged to my father.

I took over two years ago when he died.

What's a man got to do to get a decent
meal around here?

I had no idea. How nice.

Everyone who doesn't know, Chester
Gates, restaurant critic, renowned food

writer.

Charles. How about they, Harriet? You
pulled a marvellous thing together.

Though I suppose since the cookery
school closed, you must have more time

your hands. Close?

My decision? To concentrate on my recipe
books, Izzy. They're flying off the

shelves. Ah, congratulations.

I'm very much looking forward to the
Chinese cooking demonstration.

Szechuan prawns and chop suey.

How very... safe.

So interesting to a new audience.

Oh, Chester, the cooking demonstrations
are sold out.

I was sent tickets for all events,
including the celebration dinner by some

mysterious benefactor.

Really? Well, yes.

How else would I be expected to know
about such a backwater event?

Lentils with garlic.

Oh, my goodness.

Chef Farili, that is delicious.

Thank you, Father.

Brandy Hick, I'd agree to be my stand
-in sous -chef.

Oh, yeah. I'm just stirring things,
basically.

Rafi. That aroma must be dull.

It is indeed, Mr Gates.

Welcome.

You are clearly an aficionado.

You could say that.

My father, who passed away last month,
he worked for the British governor in

Bihar, in India.

He enthused about Bihari cuisine, and
when Rafi set up in Birmingham, I simply

had to try it.

I was rather a champion of his cooking.

We were going to open a restaurant a
couple of years back.

Never came off, unfortunately.

What a shame.

It's very disappointing.

What will be most disappointing, of
course, is you not making your chingri

for dinner tomorrow.

It's not on the menu.

Oh, come on now.

I've mentioned it to Hugo.

It's incredible, Father.

A local who worked in the kitchens at
the mansion in Patna. He made it once.

And my father insisted he have it every
day for a month. What a recommendation.

Unfortunately, I do not have the
ingredients.

Right.

You never were one to be influenced by
the opinions of others.

But perhaps your arm can be twisted.

It is all about the timing.

I waited for the prawns to colour in
ginger and garlic.

The sauce is tomato puree, chili bean
sauce, black vinegar, sugar, sesame oil.

Add salt and white pepper, stirring all
the time over high heat.

Done.

Serve.

The best garnish.

Szechuan prawn, beef chop suey.

The sauce could be richer, perhaps a
little more garlic.

The prawns, though, are perfectly
adequate.

Some chefs spend a lifetime waiting for
an adequate from you. Oh, dear. Clearly

as thin -skinned as your father.

All grist to the memoir mill.

Chester Gates' Critic's Life in Food
will soon be delivered to the British

Gourmand Press with all the tasty
morsels left in.

All the revelations.

Sins.

Disappointments.

If May had another run in Rochester, she
could leave.

Which would be a disaster.

You have to babysit him tomorrow, Izzy.
You have to steer him away from any

trouble. You are a lifesaver.

If you had been honest with me, I
wouldn't have gone to the expense.

I didn't have an opportunity to tell
you. It's business, dear boy.

Chester's gone to proofread his memoirs.

Hopefully we're spared any more drama.

I'm surprised that the world of cookery
is so full of... controversy.

Anywhere there's an ego at stake.

Though Chester is particularly vicious.

The review he gave Chef Yen's poor
father.

Let's hope he doesn't have the same
thing in mind for Kemble food.

Excuse me, Father. I may have some
feathers to unruffle.

Are you coping, Mrs. Devine? Well, I
could have done without being tasked

chaperoning Chestergate tomorrow.

Indeed.

I am on hand to offer any assistance I
can.

Well, thank you, Father.

It's only been one day and I'm already
exhausted.

Surely it will get easier.

I'm sure it will.

Surely agreed on eight o 'clock.

He's only half an hour late.

Perhaps we should go and knock.

I'm very grateful for your help. My
pleasure.

Interesting man.

Slightly controversial.

Mr. Gates?

Father Brown, I'm with Mrs. Devine.

Looks like rat poison.

I understand that Mr Gates ordered the
cheese sandwich for his supper.

Which is odd for a man who so enjoyed
fine dining.

It seems that someone added the poison
in the kitchen.

Indeed.

What distracted him and added it here?
Can't rule out a visitor.

The famous memoir.

Possibly a clue to the motive.

If the content of the memoir was the
motive, it's odd that it's been left

behind.

A list of chapter headings.

Cakes, quiches and porky pies.

A spicy history.

Death in Chinatown.

The tickets.

Mr Gates mentioned being sent those
tickets to the fair anonymously. Could

be important?

And the pen used to write the address
had a damaged nib.

It's left an uninked line on every
character.

Yes, thank you.

Father and Mrs. Devine.

Right, sir.

Landlady says the rat poison's missing
from the kitchen.

She thought she might have heard a
female voice last night when she knocked

the sandwich just after ten.

Mr. Gates only opened the door a
fraction. She thought he might be hiding

something. No female visitors after
hours, you see.

Surely she would have seen any visitors,
though.

Not if there were already a guest here.

I'm sorry, Raffy.

You've known him for a long time,
haven't you?

If there's anything I can do to help...
Thank you, Father.

Raffy, I'm so sorry to burden you, but
Chester mentioned this incredible dish

yours to Hugo, and he'd very much like
to try it.

I don't suppose you could make it for
us, could you?

I, uh... I, uh, will do that, of course,
for Chester.

Izzy, you can make the changes to the
menus for the dinner, can't you?

What have you got for me, Sergeant?

We could be on to something, sir.

This chapter is missing from the
manuscript.

It is indeed.

Oh, you're so skillful.

I learned everything from my father.

He must have been very proud of you.

Miss Young, could I have a word, please?

Uh, yes.

It's in relation to Chester Gates.

A woman's voice was heard in Mr. Gates'
room before he died. Was that you, Miss

Young?

Yes, it was.

I wanted to talk to him about his book.

I see.

There was a chapter missing from Mr.
Gates' memoir with the title Death in

Chinatown.

So? We believe that to be of
significance.

Lady Yen, I'm arresting you on suspicion
of murder. Surely not.

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

evidence. Sergeant.

But I didn't do it.

This way, please, miss.

What's going on?

I would like to talk about Miss Yen's
arrest.

That's fine, Father, but just so you
know, Mr Yen's fingerprints have now

identified in Mr Gates' room.

She also had access to the rat poison in
the guesthouse kitchen.

So did many other people.

Can't argue with the motive.

Her father died of a heart attack less
than a week after Mr Gates' review of

restaurant. It's fair to say she would
blame him for that.

Well, yes, perhaps.

And who besides Mr Yen would have had
reason to remove a chapter from Mr

memoir?

It's clearly about her father.

Thank you for dropping in.

I should like to speak to her.

Of course you would, Father.

What happened last night?

I saw Chester in the corridor and
demanded to know if he'd written about

father.

To avoid a scene, he invited me to his
room.

Did he give you any details of what he'd
written?

He said it was only what was already
public knowledge.

The meal he ate, the terrible review he
wrote.

I see.

I know the chapter's missing, but I
didn't take it farther.

Someone else is trying to make me look
guilty, I swear.

Did you see anyone else last night?

No.

Although, when I met Justin in the
corridor, he was leaving something

Rafi's room.

Did you see what it was?

A pot of some kind.

I was surprised given the failed
business venture.

What happened between them?

Rafi suddenly changed his mind.

I don't know why.

Father, my family rely on me.

Whatever my feelings were, Chester, I
would never put their welfare in

Please.

Leave me.

I will do whatever I can to help, Miss
Yen.

Er, cumin.

Cumin, very good. And this?

Caramel. Yes, Brenda, very good. And
this?

Turmeric. Turmeric, very good. Everyone
forgets that there's an R at the start.

You know, these smells, they always
remind me of my mother's cooking.

Feels like such a long time ago.

It takes guts to start again, Baphomet.

Miss Palmer, Chef Faridi.

I've just spoken to Chef Yen.

She says she saw Mr Gates leaving a gift
for you.

Bihari masala powder.

Clearly, Chester wasn't going to take no
as an answer about his favourite curry.

Or perhaps he meant it to show he had no
hard feelings.

May I ask why the restaurant plan fell
through?

Of course.

I had discovered who Chester's father
had worked for.

The governor of Bihar?

Yes.

Mr Gates Ellis worked for the governor
at the time.

The man who could have stopped the riots
and the massacre.

Massacre?

Nine years ago.

I am a Hindu, father.

And we have lived with Muslims side by
side for many years.

But in Bengal, there was fighting
between the two faiths. And the Muslims

attacked the Hindus.

But the British could have stopped it
very quickly.

But they delayed.

Thousands of people lost their lives.

I could not in all conscience go into
business with someone connected to it.

I see. After that, just to cut off all
ties until yesterday, I have not seen

for two years.

Thank you, darling.

No, it doesn't seem to be... No, your
pen's not working.

Thank you.

There we are.

Thank you so much.

How am I supposed to organise a
celebratory dinner with the key chef in

I'll just have to find a replacement,
won't I?

In Kembleford?

Even if someone had to come down from
London, these things do work themselves

out.

I don't think you realise quite how much
we put into this.

It doesn't matter to you if it fails,
but this is my reputation.

Welcome. Do try the lemon tart. The
recipe is in my new book.

Have a look through.

Thank you.

Father, Harriet just tried to sign an
autograph with David's pen.

Doesn't this remind you of the envelope
addressed to Mr Gates?

Well spotted, Mrs Devine.

That's the delivery.

That doesn't look like 30 chairs. Oh,
dear.

Um, excuse me.

Mr Seitz. Oh, hello, Father. Sorry.

Rather distracted, trying to find a
replacement chef with no notice at all.

how stressful.

Would you have Chester Gates' details in
there?

I believe it was your fountain pen used
to address his invitation to the food

fair.

I did send it.

Why anonymously?

Harriet hated the man.

I didn't want it to get back to her that
I was chasing Chester, so he'd allow me

to publish his memoirs.

I thought that once I revealed his free
tickets and accommodation were on me, it

would seal the deal.

So when he announced he was publishing
with another press... I was devastated.

Miners are small publishers.

It would have been something of a coup.

I'm rather against the wall, Father.

And with the sales of Harriet's books
declining, it's all been rather dire.

I wonder if it would be better in the
long run for you to tell Mrs Sags what

you've told me.

The story gets worse, I'm afraid,
Father.

Harriet's book house can't be as
terrible as he suggests.

She closed the cookery school to... Lies
on her writing.

According to Mr Sykes, the cookery
school had to close.

It was a failed business.

Oh, dear.

You invited him!

You realise one bad review from him
about the fair and we would have been

I thought it was worth the risk.

Harriet!

Oh, dear, indeed.

Seems I am the last to know about my
husband's ridiculous decisions.

Harriet, I wish you'd told me.

What was there to say?

No -one wants traditional cookery any
more.

I've failed at every turn.

Were you concerned that Mr Gates might
include this in his memoir?

Wouldn't you be, Father?

But then when I bumped into him briefly
at the guesthouse, he assured me he'd

just been getting a rise out of me, a
bit of sport.

My business dealings were apparently too
dull to be included.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a
multitude of pies that need preparing.

It seems my husband and I have sunk our
every last penny into this fair, and it

has to be a success.

Harriet, I'm so sorry.

Don't be.

At least we don't have to worry about
Chester giving us a bad review now.

Sorry.

That was callous.

But look what he did to Ley's poor
father.

If she did do it, then I wouldn't be
surprised, particularly after the

heard in London.

I want to ask you about Mr Gates.

At the fair, when I suggested that your
father must be proud of you, you didn't

answer.

You were comfortable enough with Mr
Gates to be alone in his room with him.

Miss Yen, I have to ask you, were you
more than acquaintances?

We met when he was looking at
restaurants out in London.

He was... the most charming man, and I
fell for him.

And your father found out?

Chester was older, divorced twice, not
Chinese.

He made me end it.

And that provoked Chester to write his
review, but... I believe it was my

father's disappointment in me which
caused his heart attack.

That is a hard burden to carry on your
own.

Do the rest of your family know?

They would only have found out from
Tristan's book.

Then it is ironic that the murderer may
have helped you rather than framed you.

Um, Miss Yen, excuse me.

There's nothing missing that doesn't
tally up with the chapter headings,

What are you actually looking for,
exactly?

Just one moment, please, Sergeant.

It's just the Chief Inspector's due back
at any time, and he might not be quite

so understanding.

Indeed. Ah, the spicy history chapter.

Quite a bit of scandal, didn't he, our
Mr Gates?

I mean, there was that pastry chef who
pretended he'd invented that pudding,

then there was that young cook who's in
a spicy history.

Vish. Mm.

Yes.

Mr Gates did indeed seem drawn to
scandal.

No page numbers?

Of course.

Welcome. Thank you so much. In you go.

This is a disaster.

30 guests and only two chefs.

Where on earth is David?

Thank you. Oh, there he is.

Oh, thank goodness.

Thank goodness.

So kind of you to come at such short
notice and just in the nick of time.

Kitchen.

Yes, we're on track.

On your own?

I'm all right. Raffi's just grabbing the
prawn.

Very good.

You wouldn't have to know where Chef
Faridi put the spices left in by Mr

would you?

It's odd.

Chef Yen described this as a pot.

Harriet Sykes, Hugo Pell -Blithe.

Mr Pell -Blithe, how wonderful.

Pleased to meet you.

Mayfair is stifling. Turns out the
countryside is stifling too.

Is there any chance I could be offered
some refreshment?

Yes, of course.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Mr
Hugo Pell -Blithe of the Pell -Blithe

Hotel in Mayfair.

come to advise on turning our little
venture into an annual roadshow.

We will shortly be bringing out
traditional Chinese hors d 'oeuvres, an

curry main course, and a fantastique
French tatata made by yours truly.

Izzy, can you put a drink for Mr Pearl
Blythe? He's parched. Please.

I remain unconvinced by a curry, Anna.

Is it supposed to taste like soup?

I hear that from some people.

I'm just going to see how long we've got
before the meat curry.

And quit checking the rice, will you,
Father?

She's a very good sushi.

I've just been speaking with Miss Yance.

In herself.

I gather you've known each other for a
while.

Yes, we have.

How is she?

In good spirits, mostly.

She was telling me about her
relationship with Mr Gates.

I imagine, given the timing, you were
witness to the distress caused by the

of the relationship.

That is perhaps why you decided to move
the chapter about her for Mr Gates'

memoir.

I have no idea what you're speaking of,
Father.

As well as part of the chapter he wrote
about you, of course.

Raffi told me he could not work with the
son of the man who had allowed the

massacres to happen. We never spoke
again.

I always wondered if that was the real
reason.

The last sentence ends with three full
stops.

An ellipsis suggesting there was more to
follow.

The revelation of a secret, perhaps.

Where are these hors d 'oeuvres? They're
nearly ready to go. Calm down. Has

somebody checked on my top hat? I'm
sorry, Father.

Chef Faridi?

Raffi?

Well, where are they going?

We will be back as soon as we can.

I found the pot that Mr Gates left for
you.

It has Vish written on the side.

The young man in the kitchen at the
governor's residence, I believe that was

you, Mr Faridi.

My mother gave me that pot.

She taught me everything.

She meant a lot to you.

She died.

I changed.

I became so bitter.

So full of anger.

And then there were the riots.

You became involved in them.

I was in the middle of terrible things.

Terrible. things, Father.

And I wanted to stop.

But in the noise and the anger we
couldn't be stopped.

I have blood on my hands.

I'll obviously be working to reduce the
time between courses.

I just had a few issues in the kitchen
today.

There are People in the kitchen.

During the war, the warehouse holding
most of our fresh produce delivery was

bombed. The day we hosted an impromptu
wedding breakfast.

Three of us served five courses to 26
people.

So.

I know this is stressful for you. Just
try to stay calm. Rafi is missing. They

have been waiting ten minutes for their
main course. What am I going to do,

Izzy? Hugo's going to write me off as a
charlatan who can't organise a picnic.

My last hope.

And I escaped to England to avoid being
arrested.

Penniless.

And I built myself a life my mother
would be proud of.

A food critic.

An important man wanted to go into
business with me.

It must have been a shock to realise
that Chester Gates was in fact Chester

Gates Ellis, the son of your former
employer in Patna.

Yes. And when Chester's father died
recently, he found memorabilia from his

in Bihar, including the spice pot that
you must have had to leave behind.

And a photograph of all the kitchen
staff that worked in the governor's

His father had already told him about a
Chigri Malai chef who fled Patna to

avoid being arrested just to make the
connection.

And you realized all this when he came
to your store?

And he told me about his memoir.

Leaving the spy spot outside my room was
his final warning to get me ready for

everything to be revealed.

So you took drastic action.

I went for a walk to clear my head.

And when I came back, I was angry still.

And I saw that sandwich that he'd
requested.

10 p .m., sharp.

Then I saw the tin of rat poison on the
shelf.

I still had doubts.

I saw the landlady deliver the sandwich
and Miss Yen leave his room upset.

And I knocked and I begged him to keep
my secret.

But he refused.

Would your father want you to do this?

Oh, no, no, Rafi. You are going to ruin
everything for me.

My community will disown me.

I am not that same person.

Sadly, it's just too good a story to
admit.

Call him into his cell box, after all.

And when he was dead, you then read the
manuscript.

I realized I could remove what I needed
to remove and also help Mithian.

But now I know that I made her look
guilty and I am so sorry for that.

You must know that there are others you
should tell.

Is there anything you can do to help me,
Father?

I can pray for you.

I want to run again.

You cannot keep running forever.

I understand in your faith that you
believe in Dharma, the duties you must

follow in order to prevent chaos in the
universe.

Is not going to the police and telling
them what you have done and asking for

forgiveness one of those duties for a
man of principle like you?

Oh, there you are.

What's going on?

Harriet's going to keel over.

Brenda, it's been an honour to work
alongside you.

Thank you so much for your kindness.

Rafi?

Would you be so kind as to get Chief
Inspector Sullivan for me?

Mr Paridi, you wanted to see me.

Yes, Chief Inspector.

I'd like to confess to the murder of
Chester Gates.

In view of your confession, Mr Faridi,
I'm arresting you for the murder of

Chester Gates. No, no, no, no, no.
You're not obliged to say anything. No,

no, no. What are you doing?

Who's going to cook the curry?

Sergeant. Follow me, sir.

I'm sorry, Mr Sykes. I truly am.

What about the dinner?

More important considerations here,
Harriet.

Can't you see that? Oh, I don't think
you understand the importance of the

situation.

Some of us have reputations. The future
of my business is on the line.

What do you think we're all doing here?

Father Brown and Brenda have worked
tirelessly to support the fair.

David fetched a new chef at a moment's
notice. Not a word of thanks.

And I've been defending your reputation,
even though you've shared none of your

worries with me as your oldest friend,
instead treating me like a member of

staff since you got here.

This is like the school dance.

Who, Harriet?

Mrs Sykes.

Mrs Devine, forgive my interruption.

I do believe that most of the
preparation for Chef Faridi's curry has

been done.

And he was a very good teacher.

Perhaps we could ask Miss Palmer to
instruct Mrs Sykes how to make Chingri

Malai, and we will all help.

I'd like that.

Yes, well, let's make a start.

They finished their hors d 'oeuvres 15
minutes ago and someone's got to stop

Hugo from leaving.

I'll do my best.

Thank you.

Right.

Let's fry those in mustard oil and I am
going to get started on the coconut

milk. You know what you're doing?

Well, let's find out.

Yes.

It's very ingenious.

The narrow base allows food to be cooked
at a much higher temperature.

Thus, vegetables retain their crispness.

It's that, sir.

Couldn't nip into the kitchen and
explain how food is cooked to Mrs Sykes,

you? Fear not, Mr Pearl Blythe. Your
next course is moments away. I do hope

Father. But your stalling tactics are
good for another two minutes, and then I

will be leaving.

Looks good, Mrs Sykes.

And, um, Mr Sykes, switch the rice over
and start spooning it onto 30 plates.

Ah! Has anyone drank my Tom Tom Tom?

Probably going to have to be smaller
portions of rice then, Mr Sykes.

Wine?

Water?

Right.

I'm sure the food will arrive shortly.

Do let me go and check. No, Father, I'm
too tired and too hungry to do anyone

any favours.

Mr. Purble, I too relish the prospect of
a full belly.

Father... If I may, even as we speak, a
small band

of never -say -die valiant heroes are in
a makeshift kitchen cooking for us.

They have overcome misfortune and
battled disaster, and they are now keen

satisfy the taste buds of a hungry,
frustrated guest of honour.

Is that not something for which you
could find five more minutes of

Well put, Father.

Mr Perbly, did you enjoy your meal with
us in Camelford? Ah, the timings were

awful.

Marquis is rather stifling.

And the rest has already been discussed
with Mrs Sykes.

Good evening.

Harriet, I'm so sorry.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Yeah. I've got a meeting next week.

Well done.

Brenda, you were simply amazing.

I can't thank you enough.

Hear, hear.

Thanks.

It's just a shame Raffi didn't get a
chance to see it.

You know, Izzy, you alone pulled us
about together.

Thank you so much.

Thank you.

And I want you to know that I felt
disappointed that you didn't feel able

confide in me about your troubles.

But then I wondered if I gave you the
opportunity.

Oh, when do we ever say what we really
feel?

Well, yes.

I always felt overshadowed by you.

I don't know why.

You were always far more together than
I.

Confident enough to get on the stage.

First to get married.

Have a baby.

The way you coped with widowhood. And
now you're dashing chief inspector.

Isabelle Devine's doing just fine.

And Harriet Sykes will follow suit quite
soon.

Particularly now she's actually speaking
to her husband.

Anything can be fixed with good
communication.

I'll drink to that.

Oh!

Chasselet!

Miss Yen!

How wonderful to see you.

Thank you, Father.

Sorry I couldn't be here.

How did it go?

Chaos.

Wonderful chaos. I wouldn't have missed
it.

So you'll do it again next year?

Well... Let's play it by ear.

Yes.