All language subtitles for Dont Let Them Kill Me on Wednesday - starring Rita Tushingham and George Baker (1980)

You

The play, or about to see, is based on the trial of America's case and treats the facts

of violent death as frankly as they were treated in the original court.

Because of the trial, I've been condensed from contemporary sources, but scenes outside

the courtroom are a mixture of fact and conjecture.

Criminologists have painted Charlotte Brandt as a very immoral woman.

She fell in love with a man to whom she was married and had him as a lover in the same

cottage where she lived in the midst of a certain amount of squalor with her husband

and four children.

She then had another child by the lodger whom she called Fred after her husband.

After the lodger left, she, Fred and the five children were joined by her friend Lucy

Oster and her brood of children.

In the little cottage, it must have been quite a squash.

On the 27th of May 1936, Charlotte found herself in the dock of the Shah Hall at Dorchester,

accused of her husband's murder.

I'm afraid that what writers call the eternal triangle is not absent from this case.

You have a woman here who had a lover, who had the strongest human motives of wanting

to destroy her husband, so that her marriage could be at an end.

I'm not in a position to say on behalf of the crown that at a certain place, at a certain

time, this woman bought arsenic, took it home and put it into something that this man would

eat or drink.

But I am able to put before the jury a story of elaborate and continuous attempts over

a period of seven or eight months to bring about the death of this man.

And I'm able to prove beyond doubt that the tin was found containing arsenic compound

in a high state of concentration, which the prisoner attempted to destroy by fire a few

days after her husband's death.

Victims of arsenic poisoning suffer some symptoms which are very recognizable.

They suffer from burning of the throat, mouth and gullet, from foaming and retching.

And after the system has become weakened, one looks for other effects.

One of them is a kind of paralysis of the lower limb, which causes the person to give

the impression that he is dragging his leg behind him.

Frederick John Bryant died of our Seneca poisoning on December the 22nd last year.

Who administered that poison is for you to decide.

You are Mrs. Ethel Staunton of Coom in Dorset.

I am.

You occupy the cottage next door to where Mr. and Mrs. Bryant lived.

Yes.

Would you say that you were well?

Yes.

Fairly well.

What was Mr. Bryant's profession?

He was a coal man.

Would you say that Mr. Bryant was a healthy man?

Well, he always seemed to be in good health.

He was very early in May last year.

I heard him calling through wall between the two cartridges.

And what did you do?

I went into the Bryant's.

There was Fred.

He's all alone sitting on stairs and he's very, very ill.

Grown in.

Shudderin.

He's very white holding his stomach.

What did you do then?

I made him an emetic of salt and water.

I helped him upstairs to bed.

It wasn't easy because he'd hardly move his legs as though he had sort of cramp in the

calves.

And then?

Well, then I went fetch my husband, who's worked on farm.

And when I got back, he must have been sick or something because their on floor was all

this green frothy stuff.

Green frothy stuff.

And where was Mrs. Bryant during all this time?

She's out with Mr. Parsons in his car.

So?

And when did Mr. Parsons and Mrs. Bryant return?

At eight o'clock, I said to Lottie, Mrs. Bryant, I said, your husband's been very ill.

And did you seem concerned?

No, not very concerned.

Has she expected it, perhaps?

I don't know about that.

What else occurred?

Well, I asked her what she'd given them for dinner.

She said, meat, potatoes and peas which she'd left in oven.

And what was the relationship between Mr. Parsons and Mrs. Bryant?

Well, he was her friend.

And a fancy man.

And where did he live?

Oh, with Mr. and Mrs. Bryant.

All in the same cottage?

Yes.

He was a lodger.

Yes.

What did he deal in?

Linoleum and Arses.

Would you say that Mrs. Charlotte Bryant was in love with his man?

Yes.

I'd say he completely bowled her over.

I'd say she's madly in love with him.

Thank you, Mrs. Staunton.

Did Fred Bryant, the husband, the deceased, tolerate this relationship, whatever it was

between Mrs. Bryant and the lodger?

He put up with it.

He in no way seemed to object.

No, not at all.

Thank you, Mrs. Staunton.

Dr. McCartney, the deceased was a patient of yours?

He was.

Brian first became a patient of mine some nine years ago.

Was he a healthy man?

He was, till last year.

Did you see him on the occasion of illness he had on May the 13th last year?

I did.

And I formed the opinion that Brian was suffering probably from some form of food.

Or to main poisoning.

And the day or so his condition improved.

And were you called again to see him on an occasion when he always had in August?

Hi.

On August the 6th I received a message and went to the Brian's house.

I diagnosed gastroenteritis.

And would those symptoms be consistent with those of Arse's cynical poisoning?

No.

And did you were you called again to see him on December the 21st?

Oh.

This time he was very old.

Now after Mrs. Brian what he had eaten was told that he had had bread and cheese for supper

and bacon and sausage for breakfast.

And this was in direct contradiction to the diet I had previously prescribed for him.

He was so extremely unwell that I suggested he went to hospital.

And you're refused.

On December the 22nd I visited him again.

He showed signs of breaking up and was taken to hospital.

He died in my presence.

I did become suspicious at this point.

I decided not to issue the death certificate and to report to the coroner.

This resulted in an inquest.

Hydro at any time prescribed medicine containing arsenic for Brian.

I had not.

Thank you Dr. McCarthy.

Dr. McCarthy when you saw Mr. Bryant in May did it occur to you that he'd been poisoned?

The possibility of poisoning cross my mind.

But passed out completely after I'd seen Brian the next morning when he was very much better.

And when you saw him in August no symptoms pointed to arsenic more than any other kind of tome poisoning.

No.

And did you suspect arsenic on December the 22nd?

Well again it never crossed my mind.

Till I became suspicious after his death.

Did you give him a painkiller?

I am off here.

Brian what did you give him after Morpher?

He had several nixtures.

Did you give him bismuth?

No.

Well arsenic is sometimes found in bismuth.

Very rarely.

And in very small quantities.

Now was Brian wounded when serving as a soldier in Ireland?

He was wounded.

I understand it was during that part of his service when he was in Mesopotamia.

And did that wound affect his walking?

No.

He had a slight limp when walking.

Thank you Dr.

Did you say that you were her best friend?

Yes.

Well.

I suppose so.

Where did you meet her?

Last summer.

After Mr. Parsons the lodger had left.

Did you suggest to Mrs. Brian that you moved into the cottage?

Yes.

Why?

Well so we could mind the children for each other and help each other out.

And did anybody object to this arrangement?

Fred Bryant was the only one who objected to it.

But to no avail?

No.

Do you sometimes read the newspapers?

Yes.

Do you recall reading an article during the time that you were staying with Mrs. Brian?

Yes.

I was reading the news of the world to lap Mrs. Bryant because she can't read.

It was a murder.

We were talking about it and that Mrs. Bryant said, what would you give anyone if you wanted to get rid of them?

What did you say?

I replied and I would not think of doing anything like that.

The night that Bryant died were you staying with Mr. and Mrs. Bryant?

Yes.

Would you tell us what time Mr. and Mrs. Bryant went to bed?

About seven.

And where did you sleep that night?

In the chair in the same room.

What?

Oh because they invited me to.

Well the other rooms were full of the children.

And did anything happen during the night?

Yes.

At three a.m. we was woke up.

It was Charlotte.

She was trying to get Fred Bryant to take some oxo.

And did he take the oxo?

I don't know.

My candle went out.

So you couldn't see?

Do you remember anything in particular happening the next morning?

Yes.

Mrs. Bryant and I were having breakfast.

Then suddenly we heard a shout from Fred upstairs.

We went upstairs and found him very ill.

We sent for the doctor.

And they're not?

Doctor took him to hospital.

And he died.

Do you later remember a conversation about an inquest?

Yes.

A lot of Mrs. Bryant had been told there was going to be an inquest.

She asked me what an inquest was.

And what did you say?

Oh I told her I thought it was a kind of operation.

And if she could neither read nor ate, nothing could be found.

And what did she reply?

She said I suppose they will go to all the chemists to see if anything has been burnt.

If they can't find anything, they won't be able to put a rope around my neck.

How has she ever said anything to you about St. Leonard Parsons?

Oh she said she was very fond of him.

She said the latest baby belonged to Parsons.

And following Bryant's death, can you remember any particular conversation with her?

Yes, it was after the police came and took away the ball of meds and the doctor had given her.

Well Charlotte pointed to a green tin on the cupboard and said she must get rid of it.

Wasn't that, Tim?

Yes, except it wasn't burned.

Can you tell us anything else about that, Tim?

Yes, when I was waking out the ashes under the boiler I found that, Tim.

I was all choked up too with a large charred up clothes.

And can you tell us who put it there? Did you?

We had a fire in the Washer's car for on Christmas Eve.

She must have done it then.

Thank you.

Lucy Osler, where you put on the identification parade with Mrs Bryant?

Yes.

So that a chemist whose book recording who he'd sold arsenic to had been signed with an ex could identify you?

He couldn't. He couldn't.

Answer the question. Yes.

I suggest that you were frightened and that made you invent these stories implicating Mrs Bryant.

No.

Do you agree you were staying in the cottage during Bryant's illness?

Yes.

That you helped nurse him and give him his medicine?

Yes.

Had equal opportunity with Mrs Bryant or giving him arsenic.

Yes, but I didn't.

You wanted to share a cottage with a Bryant and Bryant ejected to you and your children being there?

No.

Did you know that the police were digging around your late husband's grave?

No.

Your husband died some years ago, didn't he?

Yes.

Oh, do you know why they were digging around your late husband's grave?

No, I think the suggestion should be more plainly put.

I might put to this witness that she was afraid there was going to be an accusation concerning this alleged murder made against her.

No.

Are you a dealer in linoleum, horses and other things?

Yes.

Three years ago there was a dealer in a horse that did visit Sherwin and there come in contact with Mrs Bryant.

Yes.

And after that on different occasions, did you stay with Mr. and Mrs. Bryant?

Yes.

On what terms were you with Mrs Bryant?

Good terms.

Where are you intimate?

Oh, yes.

Very intimate.

With both of them.

Especially with Fred though.

Both of them.

Mr. Parsons, what was your sexual relationship with Mrs. Bryant?

I cannot understand.

Did you live with her as man and wife?

No.

Did you know her?

I knew her very well.

Mr. Parsons, I will put this more plainly.

Did intimacy, sexual intimacy take place?

Oh.

Yes.

And were you in the habit of going away with Mrs. Bryant?

Yes.

And did you ever make a suggestion of marriage to you?

She said she thought that she would soon be a widow and would I marry her.

Then when was that?

In the summer of last year.

And was it only once that she said that?

More than once.

When was the last time that she made the suggestion?

They cannot remember to be candid.

Before you left the Bryant's house, did you tell Mrs. Bryant that you were going?

Yes.

And did you tell her that you were not coming back?

He did.

And what happened about your clothes?

Did you take them with you?

No.

How was that?

She hid them.

Why?

I presume because she didn't want me to go.

Did Mrs. Bryant ever say anything to you about her?

Mrs. Bryant ever say anything to you about her youngest child?

She said he was a father of it.

Have you ever taken weed killer into the Bryant's house?

Never.

Have you ever heard any talk about weed killer?

Yes.

When was that?

Well, I and Fred Bryant shared a razor and Fred was looking for it.

She had a razor.

She had a razor and Fred was looking for it.

We found a ten in the cupboard that you hadn't seen before.

I heard him ask Charlotte. What was that ten?

She said it was weed killer.

Thank you, my lord. No further questions?

Have you ever lived with a woman?

I do not follow.

Well, lived with.

Shared the same bed with. Shared the same household. Lived with her full time.

Yes?

For how long?

Eleven years.

And what was her name?

Priscilla Laveridge.

And then you left her?

My dad.

Oh, she had four children of yours, didn't she?

That's right. A five. But one died. Four.

And did you have some difficulty from time to time in keeping these children?

My dad.

As a matter of fact, orders were made against you in court to pay for them, were they not?

They were.

And you say Mrs. Bryant was after you and proposed marriage?

She did.

Of course. And are you suggesting you were the sort of man Mrs. Bryant would want to marry?

With four children you had to keep and not able to keep them?

Do you have a fixed home anywhere to take a wife?

No.

Oh, you just travel about?

Yes.

Dealing in linoleum and horses.

Yes. And other things.

And you say that Bryant knew that you sometimes went away with his wife?

Yes.

But there was never a quarrel between you.

We were friendly.

You recognize this bottle?

No.

I suggest on one occasion you poured some of the contents of that bottle on a stone in front of Mrs. Bryant and it fizzled.

No, sir.

I suggest that you left that bottle behind you when you left the cottage of the Bryant's.

No.

And that you said to Mrs. Bryant that if you poured that down her throat, that's what would happen inside her.

No, sir.

I suggest you left that bottle behind you when you left the cottage of the Bryant's.

No.

You swear that?

Yes.

Did you ever pour anything out which fizzled?

No, sir.

Thank you.

With regard to the suggestion that Mrs. Bryant said that she would soon be a widow, when was that?

It was two or three times.

When she asked you whether you would marry her, what did you say?

Well, you said no.

You were quite definite.

Yes.

Early in 1935, did you go to a chemist in order to buy arsenic?

Yes.

Why?

To use for the treatment of a mayor.

And what happened?

I went to a chemist at Sherborne.

Did you get arsenic?

I was refused as I was not known.

And what did you do then?

I went to the superintendent of police to ask if he could help me.

And was he able to help you?

No.

Was there any other occasion on which you tried to obtain arsenic?

Now is there?

Thank you.

Yes.

How could we hear Symer Gypsy alright?

I do know that her Gypsy encountered it where you shot the outskirts of Western Superman.

I do.

Do you recognise the prisoner?

Yes.

She came to the camp last year.

What? About?

December, bad ass race rule.

And did you say why she had come?

She said she wanted to open my daughter Priscilla's eyes about landed Parsons.

Why did you say that she wanted to do that?

I asked her, did she have a husband?

She replied she did, but that he was away in a nursing home.

And very ill.

And did she say anything else?

But she did not think he would get better.

She was quite clear about that.

She was.

Did you find your daughter?

No.

I told her to come back next day.

And did she?

She did.

Did she say anything concerning the reason for her visit?

Yes.

I told her if she were looking for land Parsons, she would have been a little bit more concerned

than Parsons.

She wouldn't find him there.

Oh yes.

The name of Leonard Parsons means quite a number of things to me.

I'll be more specific.

Did you live as man and wife with Leonard Parsons?

Well I don't know about the man bit.

As regards the wife, I was here, 11 years or more.

Just answer the question please.

Was there such a tripsie in Camden at Western Superman?

It was.

I did you have any children born?

Yes.

Five, one of which died?

Last December, did the prisoner pay your visit?

I'll say she did.

Did you state the reason for her visit?

She said she wanted to show me a baby she had with her and to open my eyes to one or two small things.

Show your baby now.

Why should she want to do a thing like that?

Well she asked me, did it remind me of anyone?

And did it?

Well it was the spitting image of Leonard Parsons.

I can't think why of course.

Just answer the question please.

Your comments are not required.

Did you tell her as much?

I'm always certainly dead.

Well it was this bit and image anyone would have noticed.

And did Mrs. Bryan say anything else?

She asked me and I'd seen him and I said no.

She said she'd been living with him.

And that her husband was ill.

Very ill.

And what did you say and reply?

Well come on, what did you say and reply?

I hope he gets better bloody fast and gives a bloody good item to you and bloody Len Parsons and all his doings.

That's what I said in reply.

Silence!

Would you say that Parsons is a ladies man?

He's a bloody fancy woman's man.

He's a man who breaks up any bloody man's home.

Yes, senior analyst of the home office.

I did examine the organs of the body and I've no doubt whatsoever that Frederick John Bryant died of acute arsenical poisoning.

300 times more than the normal amount of arsenic was discovered in the nails, suggesting that it was administered over a lengthy period.

Detectives from Scotland Yard visited the Bryan's cottage and took away various objects and samples.

Were these submitted to you?

Yes.

Arsenic was discovered in most of the samples.

Did you analyze the ashes in the wash house copper?

I did.

And was there arsenic in them?

Yes, they contained 149 parts to the million of arsenic.

And did you analyze the contents of that tin?

Yes, the ashes of the tin also contained a high proportion of arsenic.

The normal amount is 40 to 50 parts to the million of arsenic.

Now these things contain a proportion of 149 to the million.

Do you recognize this coat?

Yes.

Can you tell us anything else about the coat?

Yes, in one of the pockets I discovered similar traces of arsenic.

There's no evidence.

No evidence that Mrs. Bryant purchased arsenic.

Well, you've all heard what Parsons said, that he couldn't get poison without signing the register.

No one could in this area.

There's no signature.

And then this court has been asked to believe that the eternal triangle was not absent from this case.

But there is one element in this eternal triangle missing.

That jealous husband.

Well, this husband didn't mind.

This husband had friendly chats with the lover.

Looked upon him as a friend. They all lived in the house, friendly, together.

And Mrs. Bryant will tell the court that she was fond of her husband.

That she was never away from Fred for more than two or three days with Parsons.

The prosecution relied on the eternal triangle.

The husband who objected as the motive.

Well, I submit.

There's no proof of motive.

Why should she wish to eliminate Fred?

He was bringing her all his money. He had a decent little cottage.

They were used to each other. They had a good life.

Well, would she really exchange this for a man who was touring the country as a horker?

Who had to pay for the maintenance of illegitimate children to leave a good home and husband for no home at all

for a man who was wanted by the police?

Mrs. Bryant will tell the court that she was not chasing Parsons.

But he who was chasing her. That when Parsons left in September, she didn't want him to come back ever.

There is no motive.

Now don't lose sight of that.

I will now call Charlotte Bryant.

Would you give us your full name, please?

Charlotte Bryant.

When were you born?

February 1903.

You're an Irish girl, are you not?

Yes.

Now is it correct that you can neither read nor write nor tell the time?

Yes.

Did you meet your husband when he was with the army, serving in Ulster?

Yes.

What terms were you and your husband on?

Very good. Never had a breath run with my husband in my life until Leonard Parsons came along.

And where and how did you first meet him?

At a party. He said he was lonely, so I invited him along for Christmas dinner.

Did you on subsequent occasions go away with Mr. Parsons?

Yes.

But you always returned to your husband shortly after?

Yes.

Did Parsons want you to leave him?

No. He wanted me to leave Fred to go away with him, but I said no.

I had the children and my husband. I told him he couldn't keep me as well.

He had four children to keep it Western. He said he couldn't. I said he couldn't.

Do you recognize this bottle?

Yes.

Why?

Well, Parsons brought it along one day.

And?

Well, he showed it to me and he poured out some stuff on the stone for me to watch it.

And it fizzled all over the floor.

Do you remember discussing with Mrs. Ostrle, an article in the Sunday newspaper about a poisoning case?

No. I don't know poisoning. I never saw Mrs. Ostrle that day.

You're in a ledge at the pocket of this coat contained traces of arsenic.

Is that your coat?

No, sir.

Can you demonstrate that it's not your coat?

Yes, sir.

You see? See? You see?

Now, on December 21st, the night before your husband died, where did you sleep?

With Fred and the baby. Lucy, Mrs. Ostrle was in the armchair.

Did you wake it all in the night?

No, sir. Not at all.

Oh, didn't you wake in the night and give your husband an oxer?

No, sir. I never touched it.

You swear that? From the time that you went to bed to the time that you got up and had your breakfast with Mrs. Ostrle,

had you given him anything with your own hand?

No, sir. I had not.

Now, the next morning when you went down for breakfast, did Mrs. Ostrle say anything to you?

Yes. She said, I had to be up all night with Fred as he kept calling for water.

And when the doctor came to see your husband that morning, what did he say?

Well, he was angry because Fred did not keep to the diet. He said he must go to hospital, but Fred said he wouldn't.

And what did you say?

Nothing. The doctor told me the medicine and I asked Arriene to go to town to get it, but he would not.

So I had to go. And when I got back, Fred said the medicine was not the same as before and he would not take it.

Did he take any later?

Yes. Mrs. Ostrle coaxed him to have a little drop.

Thank you.

Do you accept the description of your former husband as a quiet, industrious man who treated you well, kept himself to himself,

and was respected by his employers and his neighbours?

Yes.

Up to May 1935, was he a healthy, active man?

Yes, I had never heard him complain.

And from a onwards, did he suffer from the sickness that we have heard described?

Yes.

Do you know that after his death vast quantities of arsenic were found inside him, quite enough,

to cause the symptoms that we have heard about?

I know nothing whatsoever, sir, about arsenic.

But none of the occupants of the house suffered from the same stomach trouble?

No, sir.

You told Mrs. Staunton that you had left your husband's dinner in the oven, when you went out in the car with Mr. Parsons.

What sort of a dinner was it?

I had not left the dinner in the oven. Fred had cold meat for his dinner.

If you had left the dinner in the oven, it would have been easier to put arsenic on it.

I know nothing about arsenic.

Have you always told the same story about what your husband had to eat on Saturday morning December the 21st?

The morning of the day before he died?

No.

How did he have?

A cup of tea and bread and butter.

Not fried bacon and sausage.

No.

You told Sergeant Tabor the day after your husband's death

that your husband had had a hearty meal of sausages for breakfast

and soon after was struck with violent pains in the stomach.

That was a mistake.

Can you explain how that you would make a mistake?

So soon after your husband's death and get get it right now, so many months later?

No, I cannot.

My lord, it should not be forgotten that at the inquest on December the 24th, Mrs. Bryant said that her husband had bread and butter.

That is so, but it is beside the point.

Can you remember telling Sergeant Tabor that your husband had a hearty meal of sausages for breakfast that Saturday?

No, I can't remember.

Did you tell Dr. McCarthy that on the Saturday morning he had had fried sausages and bacon for breakfast and cheese on the previous night?

I meant on the Friday morning.

Well, did Dr. McCarthy make the mistake?

It seems very odd to me that when your husband is so ill and the doctor has come to find out how he's become so ill,

and whether he was keeping to his dad, that you should make a mistake.

No, I had the children all around me. One of them was crying. I don't really understand what I did say.

What I want to know is why you told Dr. McCarthy that your husband had had fried sausages and bacon,

which is of course a cooked breakfast and country to the dad, if it is not true.

No, that was a mistake on my part. It is the only answer I can give.

So what you are saying now is that all your husband had to eat was what he prepared for himself?

Yes.

And if all your husband had was what he prepared for himself, it would be more difficult to make the suggestion that you had interfered with the food.

I did not interfere because I was not downstairs.

Will you find a few husband?

Yes, I liked him.

Have you ever told anybody that you hated him?

No.

It is quite untrue.

Yes.

If Mrs. Oseless any evidence that you told her that you hated your husband, it would be bad quite untrue.

Yes.

Did you ever tell her that you loved Parsons?

No.

Len, you I didn't want him. I had a husband of my own. I told him I didn't want him.

And did you ever tell Mrs. Oseless that you were fond of him?

No.

Did you ever tell her that your youngest baby was Parsons?

Yes.

I told her that.

But not that you cared for him?

No.

Len, you I didn't want him because I wouldn't go away with him.

Len was after me, not me after Len.

Were you glad to see the last of his man?

I wasn't sorry to see the last of him. I didn't want a man.

Were you not passionately in love with his man?

No.

He knew I did not want him.

Call Lily Bryant.

Lily, I expect you've heard of Jesus, have you?

Yes.

And who is Jesus?

He looks after little children.

Where is Jesus?

He's in heaven.

And Jesus is the Son of God. You know that?

Yes.

Is it good or bad to tell lies?

It's bad.

What happens to children who tell lies?

Jesus is cross with them.

Do children who tell lies see Jesus in heaven?

No.

If you swear by Almighty God to tell the truth and to don't, what happens?

God would be cross and I won't go to heaven.

I am satisfied that the child is born.

I have placed the book in your right hand and say after me,

I swear by Almighty God.

I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give.

But the evidence I shall give.

Are you Lily Bryant?

Yes.

Now, I have to ask you this.

After your father died was a fire lit in the wash house copper.

Yes.

When was that?

The day after Christmas.

Well, it's been suggested that it was a day sometime before that,

sooner after your father died.

No.

It was the day after Christmas that Lucy and Mammy did the washing.

Who got the fire to light that day?

I did.

I scraped the ashes out and got the fire ready.

I did.

Who lit the fire?

Mammy lit fire.

Now, when you scraped out the fire, did you see anything like that?

No.

Did you ever see Mr. Parsons with that bottle?

Yes, sir.

Now, do you remember him pouring something from it?

Yes.

Now, can you tell us about it?

He poured it on the stairs outside and said to Mammy,

if you don't look out, I'll run that down your throat.

No.

Did you notice anything that happened when it was poured onto the stairs?

Yes.

It fizzled all up.

Thank you, Lily.

Stay there, will you, Lily?

When did people first ask you what day the copper was lit on?

It was... I think it was Tuesday of last week.

Have anyone asked you before?

No, I don't think so.

What day did you say the copper was lit on?

It was on Christmas Eve.

Lily, what day is Christmas Eve?

The day after Christmas.

Would you give us your name, please?

Your name, please.

Ernest Bright.

How old are you?

13.

The day after your father died, you remember being with your mother in Mrs. Ostrich?

Yes, sir.

Was there a conversation about a chemist shop?

Yes, sir.

Was it your mother who was talking about it?

No.

Mrs. Ostrich speaking about the chemist.

No.

Not my mother.

Thank you.

Did your mother ask you to throw away some bottles, Voila?

Yes, sir.

Was that just after your father's death?

Yes.

It had become too difficult. It would be better to adhere.

My lord, may I ask that the children be allowed to see their mother below the courtroom

before she's taken back to prison.

As you know, Leeden, why not? And as a prosecution has any objection?

The objection will not.

The popcorn wise.

So what's wrong with you?

Oh, I don't know. It keeps on coming to me. It's somewhat wrong with my dad.

You went to the Sturm

How are George and the others?

Very well, ma'am.

George did this picture for you.

Oh, isn't that lovely? Is it home?

No, it's heavy.

How's little Freddie?

He's all right. He calls the mate to a ma'am.

Contissile.

Ma'am, was he called after dad?

Yes.

Why?

Well, I thought it would be nice. Don't you think so?

Ma'am, you know when you met dad?

When you were a girl in Ireland?

Yes. What was he doing there?

He was a soldier, a military policeman.

He was eight years older than me.

When I started walking out with him, the Sinn Fein said they're tiring feathering.

What's that?

Oh, I'll tell you some other time.

Ma'am, why are you here?

They say I poisoned dad.

But I never.

Promise, ma'am.

I promise.

Why would they let you come back?

Well, if this junket goes okay, I could be back sometime tomorrow evening.

Oh, good, good.

Don't say it. It could be bad luck to say it.

Don't be certain of it.

Oh, I hope so.

Chimes up. Sorry, times up.

Bye, ma'am.

Bye.

Members of the jury, have you agreed upon your verdict?

We have.

And do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

Is that the verdict of you all?

It is.

Charlotte Brant, you stand convicted of willful murder.

Have you anything to say before judgment is passed on you according to law?

Not guilty.

Not guilty.

Charlotte Brant, after a long and careful consideration,

you have been found guilty of the murder of your husband.

It was a very long and painful death.

It remains only for me to discharge my duty by passing sentence,

which is that will be taken from this place to a lawful place of execution.

And hand by the neck, I'm told you are dead,

and buried in the precincts of the prison.

May the law have mercy on your soul.

Oh, my God.

It's been a difficult and painful case.

It is in the right that I excuse the jury any further service for five years.

Court, who rise?

Mr. Gazel?

Yes?

I understand it else.

The organizer of the campaign to abolish punishment.

Yes, I don't think I can be of any help to you.

I have to see Mrs. Brant.

Information has come into my possession, which throws a new light on the death of her husband.

It must be placed before the Attorney General and the Home Secretary of Art delay.

What is this information?

Frigid Brant was a man who had formed their habit of eating it.

He was addicted.

I have evidence he used to lick it as a tonic.

Well, that accounts for the presence of arsenic in the body.

Really?

Well, having the chameel, the cut off in his usual supply,

he developed symptoms of withdrawal.

There's also a high concentration of arsenic in the stone of the quarry where he worked.

Oh, would you care to visit me by office?

Give me details of this fresh evidence.

Oh, no, no, first. I will see Mrs. Brant.

To tell her, should the worst come to the worst, I will find foster parents for her children.

I will pay for their maintenance and education.

Oh, that's very generous.

I can certainly communicate your intentions to her.

I shall arrange for the older children to be sent abroad so their mother's death will never be known to her.

Oh, here I am going on as though Mrs. Brant's death was a certainty.

We will appeal.

But we have to appeal.

Madam, I'm afraid.

Even if she is guilty, even if she has killed with cruelty, it does no good to respond by killing her with cruelty.

And what if she is innocent?

Then we can never put right the harm we've done her.

If we don't succeed, at least she'll hear music at the end to comfort her.

I'll provide a band to pay hymns outside the prison, a loud band.

She'll hear it from the gallows.

She'll hear a bite with me.

But I must speak to her, please send her to me.

Madam, I regret that at this moment she is already on her way back to prison.

Tell her to go around with me.

Please don't go with that.

I'll shut up.

I'll be right.

No, no, no.

No, no.

No, no.

No, no.

No, no.

No, no.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

So I'll take one of these 50 parts, as that home office expert, um, Roche Lynch, said.

But 1,100 parts per million, and that this has been well known to signs for more than 30 years.

Far from being high, the traces of arsenic in the tin and the boiler ashes were below average.

I've made certain inquiries, and he's right.

Yet much of the Crown's case rested on this.

You think you can make something of this?

Oh, he can. Certainly. We can demand an appeal.

Oh, good.

Then there's still hope.

Hope?

A large hope.

And there's another matter, too.

There's no actual proof that your husband's earlier attacks

were due to arsenic, yet in the summing up

the judge spoke with them as if they were all caused by it.

So?

Well, he misled the jury.

They should have been instructed not to attach importance

to the evidence of the first to attacks.

There is no proof.

Can I see the children?

I'm very sorry.

With much regret, I must tell you that you

must be left of the discretion of Mr. Thomas.

You know, the warden of Stearminster Newton Institution.

Oh, but let's hope that he can help you out.

Hmm?

T. E.

My name.

My name.

Yes, and there.

You've written your name.

Oh, I've always wanted to be a scholar.

How soon before I can learn to write with everything?

Very soon, if you get on as fast as this.

Lottie.

This court has no patience with this objectionable appeal.

This court will not listen to the opinion

of scientific gentlemen bringing their minds to bear

on evidence which they have not heard.

This court sets its face like flint against attempts

to call evidence which could have been made available

at the trial.

Moreover, in this case, it is clear

that there has been no mistake.

In the event of something happening to you,

the children will be adopted by us,

the door set public assistance committee.

They will have their names changed

so that nothing will connect them with this.

This.

Can I see them before?

Oh, I have to see about that.

She told me that Lily didn't go to church on Sunday.

Why was that?

It must be still her throat complaint.

Just doesn't seem to clear up.

Meanwhile, George, the seven-year-old,

will be having an operation on his eye very soon.

Oh, yes?

It's good to clear up these little physical defects.

How's little Freddie?

Writers Ray still spends most of his time sleeping.

How old would he be now?

One year, 10 months and five days.

It fell to matron to break the news to Ernest.

He was writing about on his bicycle,

and she called him in and told him.

He cried quite a lot.

It was a difficult ordeal for matron.

Will I be able to see them?

Please can I see them?

I regret it's been understood that you will not

be allowed to see the children.

A decision which was reached in view of the protest,

which was raised after the trial,

which two of the children gave evidence,

it was thought wrong to bring children into contact

with tragedy at so young an age.

And that to see their mother now would only answer.

Even so, I think they'd love to see her,

even if it is unsettling.

I'm sorry.

Give them my love.

Almost white now, yes.

You don't remark on it, do you think

how she looked once?

So worry I suppose.

Shall we tell her?

Yes, I think so.

Thank you, Maryam.

Charlotte.

Yes.

You remember your solicitor asked for a retrieve.

Oh, yes.

Well, the home secretary has refused it.

And the appeal to the House of Lords

hasn't been allowed either.

Is Mr. Arrow not coming anymore?

I don't think so.

Perhaps it's time you thought about writing some letters.

Letter?

Who, too?

I can't write a whole letter yet.

We can help you with a difficult bit.

I don't know who to.

Whoever you might want to write, too.

I can't think of anyone.

I could thank Mr. Arrow.

Could we write that?

Would you like to see the children?

Because you know you can.

They changed their minds.

Have you understood that?

Yes.

I've understood.

But I've changed my mind, too.

It's better they don't see me like this.

Are you sure?

I've decided.

Charlotte, there's someone else you could appeal to.

Who?

The King.

The King.

Send him a telegram.

He'll do no harm.

We can tell you what to put in it.

We'll pay for it.

We can send it for you.

We'll tell you what to say.

Could we?

Could we really?

Yes, why not?

I'll see it though.

I know what to put.

This one's much too important for me to write.

My teking.

Have pity on me.

You're lowly afflicted subject.

That's a good start.

That'll flatter him.

From the brink of a cold, dark grave,

I abhor helpless woman.

How about that?

Ask you not to let them kill me.

I am innocent.

And when are they going to kill me?

Wednesday.

Don't let them kill me on Wednesday.

At eight o'clock on the morning of July the 26th,

1936, Charlotte was executed.

Her pathetic telegram had gone to the home secretary, not to the king.

And Sir John Simon didn't recommend a reprieve.

J.D. Kazwold, who defended her and later became a QC,

wrote in his autobiography,

the special uneasiness,

I am still not convinced after all this time

that our guilt was adequately or properly

proved.

In how will Charlotte left five shillings and nine pence hapiné

to be divided among her five children?

To them she wrote,

think of me as last I was,

I shall be thinking of you always.

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