Original subtitles

This is horrible.

You have three days to sort out this mess, no ifs or buts.

What are we dealing with, then? A killer with an artistic flair?

Or an artist with a flair for killing?

It's easy to see it's one of us, right?

LAUGHTER

They're nothing, are they?

You're saying that he was shot through the nose? I am.

But that's impossible - there's no bullet in the brain.

No sign of your glass gun anywhere? Feel free to search, but...

GUNSHOT We know the cause of death, Quant.

Nash and Sheila is what happened. A marriage made in hell, those two.

I'm sorry, Rene. I can't talk about it.

Ms Legge died by manual strangulation.

Sheila owned millions. Isn't that your million-dollar question?

The father of Sebastian could be the key.

Someone at West Dean got done for what?

Jay Poots?

I've never seen this one. It's a present.

Can we afford such a present?

We're a golden couple, aren't we?

You deserve a nice watch.

Let's say goodbye.

Jay Poots.

What?

A kitchen porter who works here.

He assaulted his wife 12 years ago, confessed and went to jail for it.

The office in London just found out.

And I thought I had the big scoop.

Oh, yeah? What's yours, sir?

HE INHALES

'THOU MY EVERLASTING PORTION' PLAYED ON CORNET

Do you hear that?

You knew about this? No, my Lord.

I thought you knew everything.

What are they up to?

'THOU MY EVERLASTING PORTION' PLAYED ON CORNET

Come on.

♪ Thou my everlasting portion

♪ More than friend or life to me

♪ All along my pilgrim journey

♪ Saviour, let me walk with Thee

# Close to Thee

♪ Close to Thee

♪ All along my pilgrim journey

♪ Saviour, let me walk with Thee... ♪

Now, I have been talking to Sheila Legge's lawyer.

Apparently, she left almost a million in cash. What?!

Plus a country pile, a bit like this one, but in Canterbury.

She was Duchess of Canterbury.

The estate is worth no less than two million.

That's on top.

So she... She left £3 million?

To who?

Take your wildest guess.

Nash?

Lord James? She was her cousin, after all.

Sorry to disappoint you, Quant.

# May I enter, Lord, with Thee. ♪

The answer is...

...Mr Salvador Dali.

What?!

Really?

Why Dali, in Heaven's name?

Why indeed, Quant.

Why would the one man at the bottom of our suspect list

inherit from the victim?

That's great motive. No?

What are the connections between Dali and Ms Legge?

I, erm, found something in Dali's studio.

He bought sketch paper near Sheila Legge's old estate.

Some people think they had a thing once.

Beautiful, my friend.

Thank you, brother.

Could he be the mysterious father?

I'll look into it.

This kitchen porter of yours - Jay Poots -

what did he do exactly?

Assaulted his wife.

Nearly strangled her to death. Sounds like a lovely fellow.

Why are we only getting this information now?

And how did he get a job on this estate?

Remember when I did some background checks back at HQ

regarding the personnel on the estate? Well, there was...

Happy voyage, my dearest friends.

Our beloved Sheila and Nash.

We love you both so much. You will be missed.

When our time comes, we will meet again in Nirvana.

Amen, dear.

I need a champagne.

I think we all do.

They certainly know how to create an atmosphere,

this gang of lunatics.

Cheers.

And perhaps not one of them is the killer.

I can still see the balloon.

Incredible.

Oh, here we go.

Right, first things first,

I desperately need to talk to this Jay Poots.

You figure out Dali. Yes, sir. No small task. Yes, sir.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

The clock is ticking, detectives. My Lord.

GLASSES CLINK

RENE BREATHES HEAVILY

GATE CREAKS

Sebastian Excelsior...

...Ray.

HE INHALES SHARPLY

SHE GASPS Hiya, Magritte.

Hi.

What do you have for me?

Excuse me, sir.

"Sebastian Excelsior... Ray.

"In memoriam eternae..." Ray?!

Man Ray is the father of Sheila's son?

That's motive, no? I mean, at the start we had no suspects,

and now, all of a sudden, they're everywhere.

Let me have it.

All evidence belongs in the murder room. I know.

But I was thinking maybe I could have a chat with Man Ray,

confront him with this and see if he denies his paternity?

SHE SIGHS

You're becoming a true detective, Magritte.

Go for it. I'm late anyway.

COCKEREL CROWS

Hey, Sal.

You're up early.

Intrusive thoughts?

The only thoughts I know. MAN RAY SCOFFS

What was his name again?

Da Vinci.

Da Vinci?

I like it.

Do you miss him?

Yeah.

I know it sounds silly, but...

...we were always talking.

Mm.

Manny...

...would you like Da Vinci...

...to be eternal?

DOOR OPENS

Sorry, sir.

The delinquent kitchen porter, Jay Poots,

is currently downstairs churning butter.

Care to come with me while I chat with the butter boy?

I thought I might speak to our new millionaire.

You reckon he'll be pleased?

There's a copy of the will over there.

Good acceleration in the investigation, Quant.

These are the moments we live for.

I wasn't going to mention it, but...

...Nash is the 364th murder case of my career.

That's quite a tally.

I totted it up last night. I couldn't sleep.

Years ago, New Year's Eve, I promised myself

that when I reached a year of murders - 365 cases -

I would quit the Yard.

And now, because of you,

that is becoming a possibility.

Erm... How do you mean?

My second New Year's resolution was that I would only stop

if I found the right successor.

You remind me of my younger self.

In fact, you're a lot like me.

Work-wise, at least.

Sir. SHE CHUCKLES

Well, look on the bright side, Quant.

I will be hiking up Mount Kilimanjaro

whilst you'll be up to your elbows in mud, blood and gristle

for the next 30 years or so.

Enjoy. SHE LAUGHS

And when amongst ourselves...

...do call me Thistle.

Thank you, sir. Erm... Thistle.

HE CHUCKLES SOFTLY

You looked quite excited when you came in.

Have you discovered something? Yes.

Man Ray is the father of Sebastian,

Sheila Legge's little son who died before.

How did you discover that?

Erm... I have my sources.

Oh.

So, one big unhappy family.

Good.

Add him to the list.

I'll go and see what Mr Poots has to say for himself.

One of the richest estates in England,

they can't even fix a bloody door knob!

SHE CHUCKLES

WATER SIMMERS

GRUNTING

Jay Poots...

HIGH-PITCHED WHISTLE

...turn around.

I am Detective Chief Inspector Thistlethwaite, Scotland Yard,

and you are under arrest.

Down here. Here he is.

Gentlemen, handcuff that bastard.

Yes, sir.

Pigs. Is that right?

We've got our killer, sir.

Looks like it, doesn't it?

I'm one of the roughs, sir.

I admit to it.

I'm a harum-scarum sort of good-for-naught.

But I am not your killer.

I catch you in flagrante while you're trying to rob a corpse

and you've got previous for battering your wife

within an inch of her life, how do you think it looks?!

She had it coming,

my Sinead,

but this poor thing here, you've got it all wrong, guv.

I was only trying to pry out her gold teeth, is all.

Have you no shame?

Trying to steal from a co...

Take him to the murder room. Come on.

JAY GRUNTS

Steady.

How dare he?

HE HUMS

This is the will of Sheila Legge,

sent by her law firm, Messrs Watts, Watts & Cushman.

And I need to see this because?

You are to inherit £1 million in cash.

You didn't know this?

Salva?

Plus, Ms Legge's whole estate in Canterbury, not unlike this one,

currently valued at £1,952,999.

HE CHUCKLES

Mr Dali, were you and Ms Legge ever in a romantic relationship?

Me and her?

No.

What an insane thought.

Sheila hated me.

You visited her though, right? Back in Canterbury.

Yeah, of course I did.

We were friends.

Good friends.

But sometimes friends can't take the truth,

so what is left is not...

...let's say "real", you understand?

Thank you.

Right...

...you received a phone call yesterday.

What was said seemed to have shocked you.

Did it have something to do with this?

Look, your inheritance is real,

and now we have to wonder, why?

I will never accept that woman's money.

SHE SIGHS

You're not happy with all that money?

HE GASPS Mr Dali?

Sir? Are you all right?

FOOTMEN CHATTER AND LAUGH

What's so funny?

Sorry, sir, but this is really weird stuff.

It's not pretty either.

Call me a simple-minded idiot all you want, sir,

but I don't get this.

Those artists are oddballs, aren't they?

You want to know something about these...

...oddballs?

Look...

...it's not as simple as it seems.

In surrealist art, they constantly want to play with the question

is it a dream or real?

A joke or a tragedy?

Is the object just an object or do we give it meaning?

And if so, which one?

Too difficult for me, sir. No, it's not.

Do you know what a pipe is to Magritte?

No?

A dick. Ha! Really? A dick?!

Yeah. Now I get it. He's shagging his pipe!

FOOTMEN LAUGH

Yeah. All sex maniacs, eh?

Every last one.

LAUGHTER

Just like you, but worse. Yes, sir.

Back to work. I need you over there.

OK, gents, laugh's over. Let's get this hung up, come on.

You take that side.

One, two, three, go.

I'm busy.

We need to talk, Man.

What? Now?

That's right, I'm a lip model. Say what you've got to say, pal.

Never mind. I'll be back.

Think I can't take it, mon ami? Talk, dammit.

See, I really think... You're starting to piss me off now.

Come on, pal. What's on your mind? Spit it out.

OK.

I found this.

You bastard.

What is it?

How did you find it, hmm? Is there nothing sacred to you?

She was the mother of your son. Son? What son?

HAMMERING AND BANGING

What?

No.

Anyone but him. He isn't father material.

Lee, I... I'm so sorry.

I, erm...

If only you knew how complicated this is. It's, erm...

You are little Seb's father?

No, no, no...

Yeah... In a way. What? No.

No.

No, no, no, no. Please, no.

Oh, this is insane. This isn't happening.

Tell me this isn't happening. This is insane. This can't be happening.

Lee... Lee, I'm so sorry.

You're going to pay for this, you little fake detective.

You think you know it all, don't you?

And you know nothing!

Will you quit the fucking hammering?!

I said stop the fucking hammering!

Stop it! Stop it! We're finished, sir. No more hammering.

I'm so sorry, sir. Sit down.

I was just asked to hang up the work, that's all.

It's all right, sir.

I'm so, so sorry, Lee.

When he fucked Sheila, our relationship was at its height.

Every day the bastard would lick the dust of Paris

off the soles of my shoes.

You don't believe me?

The guy is nuts.

Complete goner.

And there I was, believing him.

Stupid girl.

SHE SNIFFLES

All the while, his majesty was banging Lady Legge.

Fucking making a child with the duchess.

I don't believe it.

I'm so sorry, Lee. Hey...

SHE SNIFFLES

You didn't hurt me.

The truth did.

You just happened to find it.

DOOR OPENS

Amor, will you ever leave that bath? You look like a peanut.

Aren't you getting cold at all?

My tears keep the water hot.

SHE SCOFFS Come on.

I almost forgot.

Today I won £3 million.

What?

Our friend Sheila...

...Duchess of Canterbury.

I'm in her will.

But why?

You didn't know?

Of course not.

Are you sure?

Liar!

Pardon?

You heard what I said.

You're a liar.

And you stole my soul, too!

What? For what?

Money.

Signed by Gala Dali!

I spit on the day you took my name!

OK, yes, I accepted her money.

Why not? She wanted you to have it.

For what, Gala? For what?!

To buy away her guilt.

And she should have kept the guilt. She should have kept the guilt!

Why do you hate her so much if your heart is so big?

You slept with her?

Don't be ridiculous. I'm not like you.

It's because of Spain.

Of course it's because of Spain!

I lied to those doctors, Gala.

I lied about the death of an innocent child.

Wake up!

Wake up, Sheila!

I lied to protect two drug addicts not able to even care

for the most helpless of beings!

HE SOBS

She's been trying to pay me off for a year.

And now the sneaky bitch found a way and I can't give it back.

The only thing I could do was to say no.

To not accept it.

But thanks to you...

You need some time.

Time?

What is time?

What is money?

It has no real value at all.

Millions in the bank

will not bring back my conscience.

Every pound spent...

...will be a reminder...

...of the lowest point of my life!

I understand, but you are wrong.

Get out.

Get out!

SALVADOR BREATHES HEAVILY

HE SOBS

You get your things, Salvador,

and see that I don't find you here when I come back.

I put this couple first always.

Not you, me.

Well, maybe you should stop, then.

HE SOBS

Out for a walk, my friend?

Still on a hunt?

Erm... Yeah.

I saw an interesting building yesterday night

and I would love to see it in daylight.

I don't believe Man murdered Sheila

just because he's the father of Sebastian,

so I think I'm going to keep investigating.

Normally I joke about being careful out there but, in this case...

...be careful, all right?

OK.

Whoops-a-daisy.

The suspect slipped, sir.

Course he did.

Must be all that butter.

Thank you, Constable...

...for the preliminary interrogation.

Are you going to start talking?

All right, then...

...I will.

Have you seen this?

Never.

Don't know, don't care.

Fancy foreign stuff.

These perverts around here.

Who?

These so-called artists.

Harsh judge of others for a wife-beating corpse robber.

JAY SCOFFS

What a piece of crap.

Well, don't hold back.

So you've never seen this painting? I wish you'd kept it that way.

Back in the good old days of our Lord Denver,

all of this cack would not happen here.

And now we have to do as we're told by his little sister

and we get nutters staying here.

The inmates are running the asylum

and you are surprised that the bodies drop?

What were you really doing with that body down there?

I wanted her gold teeth.

To sell, to have money,

to eat something decent for once.

Hold on. Aren't you paid?

I mean, that's the big advantage of being in service, isn't it?

That you're well fed and watered?

Lord James is listed in the Sunday Times Rich List

as one of the wealthiest people in the Kingdom. Surely...

I might have tried to rob a corpse, but I am no traitor.

You can beat me all you want, I'll say nothing more.

Except this.

I am not your man.

But you are a convicted criminal without an alibi.

Lord Denver took me in.

He gave me a second chance when nobody else would, so...

So I was bloody saved by...

By this family?

And where are they now - your family?

What is it that you're not telling me?

Do you remember jail, Poots?

Are you being serious, mate?

Yeah, course you do.

You want to go back there,

maybe this time for the rest of your life?

You can't tell her.

Who?

Her Lordship.

Not a word.

RATTLING/RENE GASPS

Hello?

I clean dishes at the pub every night after my shift here,

then I clean the bar.

I've got a new girl there, too.

Sweet thing, she is.

But I'm always back by morning for my work.

Her Ladyship doesn't know.

And you do this... I've got to eat, now, don't I?

So you were washing dishes and sleeping with your girlfriend

on the night that Ms Legge died? Yeah, every night.

So if I go down to that pub, which I will...

...there's witnesses to corroborate? About two dozen.

HE SIGHS

Unshackle him.

Let him go.

Good day to you, Mr Poots.

Stay away from the cold storage room, will you?

Yes, sir.

What exactly am I to you, Manny?

The love of your life?

Your inspiration?

Your one and only?

That's what you said.

Liar.

A liar and a prime suspect.

HE SIGHS

OK, you want to hurt me.

I... I get that.

Do your worst. No, I want this to stop, Manny.

Look at us. I know. It's all so complicated.

Look, I promise you, someday soon I will tell you everything.

Someday soon? Are you joking, Man?!

Do you love me?

Because that's all that matters.

Look, I love you more than anything or anyone else.

I don't know why I love you.

What did I ever see in you?

Was I too young?

Perhaps.

Anyway, it's pointless to revisit the past,

especially when you don't know what was true and what false.

Everything was true.

What about your son, then?

Not even recognising him properly?

A son, Manny. A goddamn child with another woman!

And you hide that from me whilst being with me?

Oh, my baby.

Don't you understand that nothing can repair this?

What kind of man, are you? I wanted to protect us.

From the most important event in our life?!

Seb was more important than me or you...

No.

You knew that if this thing came out, we would end,

and these things always come out.

And the fact that you made another woman pregnant

whilst I was asking for a child from you... I did not.

SHE INHALES SHARPLY

Among all this mess...

...what hurts the most is that you hid your emotion from me.

Your grief.

Your pain.

I'm asking myself what kind of a person is capable of that...

...and I have no answer.

But I do know that I don't want a person like that in my life.

DOOR CREAKS

Detective.

DC Quant. Hmm?

Huh.

A dinner not eaten.

Mm.

I wonder why.

And all these guns.

But there's one missing.

A Liege 1891. SHE GASPS

LOUD CLICK

Is that special?

It's just about one of the best rifles in the world.

It costs a fortune.

It's strange, isn't it?

What is, detective?

A family of game hunters,

each with their own rifle going back to Napoleonic times, and yet...

...only this particular rifle is gone - the best of the lot.

The killer would have taken it, right?

If so... Well...

If so, then our killer is not only an artist, but a professional.

Yes, but when is this professional ever going to make a mistake?

They always do, as the pressure rises.

LOUD CLACK

No...

Please.

No.

Before the exhibition is my guess.

How would you know?

I don't know. That's why it's a guess.

You felt that too, right? Felt what?

That place. Yeah. As if someone was watching us.

KNOCK ON DOOR

If you must.

You as well?

Love sucks.

TELEPHONE RINGS

Yes?

Bloody hell.

DOG BARKS Sir, please, open the gates.

It was a very long journey for us.

I have a lady waiting in the car, it's raining, it's...

Sorry, sir, we can't.

It's sealed off. It's all locked up.

What's going on?

Who are you? I am Georgette Berger.

Who?

Mrs Magritte.

My name is Edouard Leon Theodore Mesens,

but, please, call me ELT.

I am Magritte's agent. How do you do?

Why are you here?

I'm very worried about my husband

and I have decided that I can't be without him.

Yes, it's true. It's like, erm, Dali and Gala.

You can't imagine them separated, can you?

DOGS BARK AGGRESSIVELY

LORD JAMES WHISTLES

BARKING STOPS

Mr Mesens, is that you? Please call me ELT, Your Lordship.

Lord James, an honour. How do you do, madam?

We were supposed to arrive on Friday for the exhibition

but Georgette was just too anxious to see her husband.

I hope you don't mind we jumped the gun.

Oh, don't be ridiculous, West Dean is always open,

although it's mostly very closed at the moment.

Mrs Magritte, I am thrilled.

You are most welcome to my humble abode.

Ah!

You're so cute. Open the gates, boys.

But, My Lord, I thought we agreed... No buts. Listen, once and for all,

I agreed that nobody can leave my property until you get your man,

but do not believe for one second that you can tell me

who is and who is not welcome on my estate.

Got that?

Now, get out of my way and stay out of my way.

Quick, my dear, before you catch pneumonia. Oh, thank you.

Wait, wait, we have some... What's going on back there?

We've got a bit of a situation,

but we've got the best detectives working on it.

I'm so sorry you had to arrive at such a time.

I'll tell you all in the van. After you. Thank you.

You may as well get in the back with us. Come on.

I hope you have a wonderful stay

despite the unpleasantness of it all.

I'll see you at breakfast. The weather should be glorious.

Some sunshine is sorely needed for the soul.

Thank you, My Lord. Don't mention it.

Look after her. My pleasure.

Well, erm...

...I need to see Rene immediately.

He's such a delicate flower. So...

So sensitive.

Where is he now? Follow me.

Hold on a moment, Jukes!

Mrs Magritte...

...I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news,

but I feel it's my duty to tell you that your husband

is one of the chief suspects, especially in the first case -

the strangulation of the beautiful young heiress Ms Sheila Legge.

Did you know her?

Erm... No.

Wait.

It's impossible.

It's madness.

Well, your husband wakes up next to a corpse

after spending all night in bed with her.

What would you call it?

Please.

Mrs Magritte, nothing has been proven.

Nothing at all.

Everything will turn out fine, as it always does at West Dean.

Allow me to escort you to your husband.

Thank you, Mr Jukes. Just Jukes will be fine, madam.

Well, that was rather harsh.

What? You just wanted to see her reaction?

Not as much as I want to see his when she catches up with him.

I thought we agreed that Magritte was innocent.

Well, you surely did.

Yes, you're right, I want to stir things up.

You put pressure on these people and the one with something to hide

will surely make a mistake. If you say so.

We're here to catch a killer, Quant,

not to make friends.

Sir.

SHE SIGHS

GEORGETTE TAKES A DEEP BREATH

SALVADOR COUGHS

The bit that drives you mad.

The best bit.

For you. No, after you.

No, after you. No, after you.

Yeah.

SALVADOR COUGHS

MAN RAY CLEARS HIS THROAT

Manny. Yeah?

I'm taking the right side of the bed.

Sure.

MAN RAY SIGHS

HE CHUCKLES

KNOCK ON DOOR

Anything I can get you in terms of refreshments, sir? Yes, Jukes.

I'm sorry, can we get this man a room? I need some time with my wife.

Well, of course, Magritte. I understand.

I'll find a solution.

No, no, no, no. It's not necessary.

It's just for one night. It's too late.

We Belgians, we stick together.

No, but I need some time alone with my wife.

Oh, no, no, no. You don't.

Thank you. Thank you, Mr Jukes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.

If I might suggest... Thank you. Bye-bye.

DOOR CLOSES

Hmm.

Ooh, la, la. HE SIGHS

SNORING

Operator.

Brighton.

Two, nine, four, eight.

RINGING

TELEPHONE RINGS

DOOR CREAKS

RATTLING

Subtitles by Red Bee Media