All language subtitles for 01 Sleeping Murder

thank you

I'm Calvin Halliday, Third Secretary.

Sergeant Desai.

Traffic police.

I'm afraid it's your wife, Mr. Halliday.

The very worst news, my good sir.

A car left the road at the Chamber
Valley Bridge and she plunged into the

It's not the first time they're for such
a tragedy.

Was Gwendolyn our child?

Fortunately, no.

Telegram urgent from Charles Vanston,
British India Holdings, Delhi, to Miss

Gwenda Halliday, passenger SS Dominion,
Van Southampton, England.

Darling Gwene, regret too busy, take
yesterday's flight as planned.

Pressure of work.

So still in India.

Should have failed with you, my
precious, after all.

Therefore unable meet you, Southampton.

Mr. Hugh Hornbeam, London office,
instructed welcome and make final

wedding preparations.

Gather Hornbeam, jolly good chap.

Desperately sorry not to share your
first visit to dear old England, your

own Charles.

Piers had told Hornbeam, just look for
prettiest girl in whole

wide world.

Ah, welcome to England, Miss Halliday.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Oh, golly.

Are you she?

Are you him?

Yes.

Welcome to England, Miss Halliday.

You don't believe in travelling light?

My life is in my luggage. I'm not here
on holiday.

No.

And, um...

Congratulations on your forthcoming
marriage.

Thank you.

Where's best for our house?

Charles would have a pied -à -terre in
London, but for our family home, I want

the ocean.

Such sunshine as there may be, and
views.

I want England, Mr. Hornbeam.

At long, long last.

When you turn right at the sea, there is
dead...

You

won't find anything there. It's the back
of beyond.

Torquay's a much better bet.

No, I definitely think we should look in
Dilma. I'm sure it's a charming place,

but Torquay has a decent hotel and
reputable estate agents.

We'll get a list of suitable properties
and... No.

That way.

But... Instinct.

I always follow my instinct.

Drive on.

Thank you.

Shouldn't there be a pier?

I expect the journey's bonded.

Right.

To stop people having fun.

Is England anything like you expected?

I'm not sure what I expected.

How long have you worked for Charles'
company?

Seven years now. I started at Manstone
International after the war.

Work that for me, will you?

Oh, yes.

With you.

This would be our bedroom.

The next door would make a wonderful
dressing room. Perhaps we could knock

through.

Simply perfect for a nursery,
eventually.

Grim colour, though.

More cheerful wallpaper is what it
needs. Something pretty, like poppies

cornflowers. Where did I see that?

In a magazine?

Feels like home already.

This is my house.

Fix it.

Yes.

Righty -ho.

Yells wherever he's only moved out last
month.

Mr. Fane thought it'd be hard to shift.

Well, it's Mr. Fane's lucky day, then,
isn't it, George?

What's the matter?

Tell me, did someone die in this house?

Um, no.

Um, yeah, I mean, um... Did they?

I mean, I expect they must have missed.
It's ever so old.

Mr. Hornbeam?

The next door.

I'm coming through.

It's the second time I've done that.

It weren't in the original estimate,
sir.

Help me decide, will you?

I don't know.

Oh, Mr. Sim, would it be possible to put
a door between the two rooms in that

wall? Don't see why not.

Now, there's this for the hall.

What do you think?

Gosh. But is it too fussy? I hate fussy.

Well, I... Or there's this one.

Look at this.

Fine to me.

Really?

Or are you just saying that?

Well, I'm blowed.

There's a door here already.

It's been boarded over.

You must be psychic.

You're staying in a hotel tonight, isn't
it?

You could get yourself a camp bed and
some blankets.

I'm quite happy in the hotel.

But if you're feeling nervous... No.

It would just be more convenient, that's
all.

Do you need to telephone a wife or
someone like that?

Oh, no one like that.

The window's open.

Then please close it.

Can't you sleep?

I thought I'd telephone Charles.

I could make you some cocoa.

No, Charles.

Well, not too sweet.

I got that nursery cupboard open for
you.

You can see the old wallpaper.

Much more cheerful and pretty it must
have been in that room.

Poppies and cornflowers.

Poppies and cornflowers.

Are you all right, Miss Halliday?

Thank you, Mr Hornby.

Gwenny. No, I'm sure you didn't imagine
it, darling.

I can't. Not just like that.

I still don't know exactly when I'll be
able to join you.

I need you too, but... Put Hornby him
on, will you?

Yes, Robert.

Well, it's hardly a police matter.

What sort of investigator?

Just someone who'll take her seriously
or pretend to, and for God's sake, try

and cheer her up.

Let's go to the theatre.

Ruperty looks on, and I love a
rollicking part. I don't know about you.

Ah, yes, operator.

St Mary Mead 235, please.

But what exactly did she do?

Farthing.

The Duchess of Malfi?

It doesn't sound like a farce.

I must have got the wrong wig.

Oh well, we're here now.

Are you well?

Yes.

How very nice to meet you, Miss
Halliday.

Hello. I'm Jane Marple.

Pull, and pull strongly, for your able
strength must pull down heaven

upon me.

But stay.

Heaven gates are not so highly arched as
princes' palaces.

They that enter there must go upon their
knees.

Come, violent death, serve for
Mandragora to make me sleep.

Go tell my brothers when I am laid out,
they then may feed in quiet.

You are again being strangled.

Who?

Helen. Who's Helen?

Miss Halliday, who's Helen?

Strangling is a very quiet death.

She was no older than 30, I'd say.

What do you remember?

Helen.

Whoever she is or was, I couldn't see
who was strangling her.

I wonder what her furniture was like.

Furniture?

Here in the hall.

There was a coat stand and a side table.
A coat stand?

Was there a coat?

Or a hat?

A woman's hat. Pre -war style.

May I know your age, Miss Halliday?

Twenty -one.

I think you saw a memory from when you
were a child who looked through

banisters, not over them, and whose
nursery wallpaper was poppies and

cornflowers.

A child who saw a murder in this very
house.

I've never been in this house before.
I've never set foot in England before

Who is that?

Are you quite sure?

Of course I'm sure. Breakfast's getting
cold.

Your scrambled eggs are like rubber.

I have advertised for someone.

I didn't really train to be... You go
on, Miss Hannity.

This is the first time I have been
outside of India.

My father, Kelvin, was a diplomat there.

My mother died in an accident when I was
a baby, and Daddy two years later of a

heart attack.

I do just about remember him, but it was
his sister who brought me up.

If it was him...

A haunting.

We could find out who owned this house
from the solicitors.

Well, it's a start.

Will you come and see Mr. Fane with us,
Miss Marple?

You could give me a lift into the town.

What I really need is some wool.

Still must change so much since I was
last here. When was that?

Oh, must be 18 years ago.

Do you want the extra two ounces? Be on
the safe side.

Yes, please.

I see it with friends on the Hampton
Road.

Hillside, that house was called. Oh, I
know Hillside.

Very well run household.

Such obliging girls and service they
had.

What were their names?

Mr. Fane's out.

When will he be back?

All we want is a glance at the Hillside
file.

I'm meant to be tidying up.

Oh, don't let that stop you.

I don't like being watched.

We'll close our eyes.

Look, we don't have time to wait for Mr.
Fane. I think he was in that filing

cabinet there.

Where should I look? Let's try H for
Hillside, shall we?

I really don't think it's a good idea,
sir.

Mr. Fane will be back soon.

Oh, it won't take a moment, George.

E -F -G -H. Ah, here we are.

It changed hands in 1934 and was bought
by... What?

It was bought by Kelvin Halliday.

Is that your idea of a joke, Mr
Hornbeam? No.

Mr Fane.

Mr Hornbeam.

I had to run out. Her mother's library
was... Problem?

No, Mr Fane.

Thank you.

We were just having to meet you.

This is, um, Mrs. Padgett.

Cook housekeeper at Hillside in 1934.

Darling, Willie, after all these years,
you won't remember me, of course.

You were such a lovely little girl.

When Lily survives her other duties, I'd
expect you to help my daughter.

Poor little motherless mind.

At least you bring her up in good old
England, sir.

You're still young.

Very handsome man, your father.

And it didn't take him long to find a
young lady.

Is this the refrigerator?

Yes.

So could you start tomorrow?

All right, then.

I look after you.

What young lady?

I say lady.

Helen, were her name.

Helen. Helen Marsden.

Him a gent, her a theatrical.

See, we used to have a show on the pier
every summer.

Me and Lily, the housemate, we used to
love it.

That sound I hear again.

Hello, they're on the pier.

Every year they used to come.

They were all so talented.

Jackie Affleck. Listen, listen. He would
laugh.

And he didn't just play the piano.

He said, that's not a dog. It's a
scrubbing brush.

He would scream.

Zion and love, all are ready.

You can never see how we've done it.

Little Evie Valentine.

I don't know if you found the energy.

Wait, enough.

The earthlings were in charge of the
funny bones.

Janet could've done opera with her
voice.

And Dickie could've been in films with
his looks.

He were Lily's favorite.

Sounds like a jolly good night out, Mrs.
Padgett. And Helen Murden.

She and your father got engaged.

I was never told any of this when I was
growing up. I don't understand, Mrs.

Paddock. Did the three of us go back to
India?

Just you, but I think it's best you wear
it from family. It's not far.

R .M .P .A.? Oh, he's a trick cyclist. A
what?

A psychiatrist.

Yes?

I believe you're my Uncle James.

You're so like your mother.

So like my dear Claire.

Do you think Miss Halliday was somehow
drawn to Hillside by her subconscious?

Possibly.

Unless it was what we psychiatrists call
a coincidence.

I'm so thrilled to see you again.

Why was I sent back to India alone?

Oh, Gwenda, where to start?

Your mother and I were very close.

Your grandparents died young and I'm
more or less brought clear up.

When she came of age, she took off to
India to be a governess and met your

father, married and had you.

And then he wrote, informing me of her
death.

Her car had gone off the bridge at the
Chamber Valley Gorge.

The following year, he wrote again from
Dilmouth.

He'd moved here with you and got engaged
rather too soon after Claire's death,

to my mind, and to an entertainer.

But I accepted an invitation to come
down and meet them both.

This is James Kennedy.

James.

Helen. Kelvin speaks so lovingly of your
sister.

Dear Claire.

If I can make him as happy as she did.

And we got on like a house on fire.

I'd been looking for somewhere to set up
in general practice and Dylan was

fitted the bill, so I moved here. You
weren't always a psychiatrist.

No.

I eventually realised it was the mind
that truly fascinated me and not the

and since the war... Oh, the mental
wounds.

...what some of our chaps went through.

After a few weeks, we became firm
friends.

Yes. Colton asked me to be his best man.

Here she comes.

They were to be married in the morning.
There was a little party.

but there would never be a wedding.

Don't be late tomorrow, or you'll never
make an honest man of me.

Colvin went home to Hillside, and I came
back here and fell asleep with a book.

Then around dawn, Colvin telephoned in a
terrible state.

He got up in the middle of the night and
noticed that Helen's suitcase had

vanished and some of her clothes.

She wasn't at the digs where they were
all staying, and nobody knew where she'd

got to.

We waited and waited outside the town
hall.

But she never came.

Kelvin was devastated.

He took to walking for hours on end
every day up on the cliffs, trying to

some sort of answer for himself.

And then she sent him a postcard from
London.

No address, no explanation. It just said
she was happy and not to look for her.

The police found her at the hillside
after.

after they'd discovered his body at the
foot of the cliffs.

I'm so sorry, Gwenda.

You were sent back to your aunt in India
and we agreed you need never be

burdened with the true circumstances of
your father's death.

Do you have a photograph of Helen by any
chance? Yes.

The camera.

I don't understand.

I saw her strangled.

It's in here somewhere.

I remember that dreadful day it came
this.

Here. I should have torn it up, just
like she tore his poor heart in two.

We didn't deserve that, the dear man.

I'm sorry, Calvin, darling.

Please don't ever try to find me.

I'm happy now.

Helen.

Here, let me.

No!

I'm sorry, Hugh.

How's Mr. Hornbeam?

It's all I have of my mother's.

I promised myself I wouldn't wear it
until my wedding day.

That'd be tempting.

I shouldn't really care about her,
should I?

But she was murdered.

I don't care about the postcard.
Postcards can be forwarded.

They certainly can be.

It was a long time ago.

Do you really want to rake up the past?

Who knows what else we may find.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Did the seagulls wake you up, too?

Didn't they squabble?

I slept like a lamb.

Oh, and Charles telephoned.

He'll be arriving on the 17th, so you
can get on with the wedding arrangements

as we discussed.

What did he make of your discovery?

He's enough on his plate.

The weather is beautiful.

I'll walk. I won't take the car.

Where are you going?

To my uncle's.

God's in heaven and all's right with the
world.

I don't think.

Did she say anything to you about the
possibility her father... Her father

committed suicide because he'd murdered
Helen.

Not yet.

Tea?

You sure you don't prefer a glass of
fresh cold milk straight from the

refrigerator? No, thank you.

Miss Marsden.

We rubbed along all right, but he were a
gentleman and she weren't,

if you take my meaning.

But she were wonderfully loving with
Gwennie. So good with her, I'll say

even though she won her own.

Class will out though, won't it?

She got a little bit above herself, is
my opinion.

Even picked up Mr.

Allardy, if you put in the engagement
announcement in the Times.

messenger. He read it out so proud and
she said he'd gone all stuffy and stuck

up. Was she here a great deal?

Most days and well, I don't suppose it
matters now. Quite often, nights too.

I were a bit disappointed in him for
that. There are standards, engaged or

No surprise to me when she ran off.

I heard them rowing that night.

She was supposed to be at her digs.

She turned up here.

Darling, calm down.

I'm not going to see him. Well, I am.

If you think I can just pass by, let me
know.

Madam, you're quick, Winnie.

Darling!

Next thing I knew, we were all that
cuffer in the early hours when he found

she'd done a bunk.

Helen?

She's nowhere to.

She's been kidnapped.

Lily! Stranger things have happened.

Lily just wouldn't let it lie.

What did Lily really think had happened
to her?

That girl.

Reckon Mr. Allardy had done her in and
buried her in the garden.

Too much Boris Karloff down the picture
house.

Said she'd seen something very odd
indeed, Mrs. P.

What? Who cares? I don't want to hear
her nonsense, silly mare.

Do you know where Lily is now?

Dreams can mislead as well as inform.

Your father and your mother and Helen
have been whizzing around your

consciousness like dodging cars, bumping
into each other and throwing off

sparks. But a spark, however vivid, is
not enough to see clearly by.

So you don't think my father murdered
two women?

Well, anything's possible, but... You
know, Claire died when her car went off

the bridge.

And you've seen Helen's postcard.

But I recognised Helen from the
photograph. It was her I saw strangled.

Sparks again.

I'm not saying you didn't see what you
saw, but perhaps Helen's been what we

call projected onto your memory.

And before we jump to conclusions about
your father, we need some solid facts,

don't we?

Yes.

Do you have one?

Oh, no, thank you.

It's lovely here. My favourite place.

Good for thinking.

You will come to the wedding, won't you?

You try and stop me.

The truth is, I'm a little scared.

Charles is so worldly and I just pretend
to be for him.

Of course, he's... So much older.

Yes.

Well, perhaps that's... Why you fell for
him.

It's a peace rose, isn't it, Chief
Inspector?

Can't have green fly disturbing the
peace.

Serious offence.

Hit them hard.

The only language they understand.

I remember it.

She skedaddled before the wedding, so he
jumped off lover's leap.

You never had cause to doubt that
version of events?

Nope. Open and shut.

Nothing... odd?

Unless you count Gunga Din.

Hmm? Tonight Helen Marsden ran off.
There was an Indian gentleman seen near

floral clock at about ten past one.

You do mean... Actual time.

Not where the nasturtiums are planted.

What was he doing?

Nothing.

Head's turned now if an Indian's seen
walking along Dilmuth Brom.

Back then, Mrs. Fane thought she'd be
murdered in her bed.

Mrs. Fane?

Any relation to Walter, the solicitor?
His mother. Ah.

She reported it the next day.

Funny old stick.

I think she keeps him on a bit of a
tight leash.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I retire on
Friday, and I've got a speech to write.

Of course, she was a nymphomaniac.

If you're familiar with the term, Miss
Marple.

She almost had Walter.

Did she really, Mrs Flame?

They were inseparable until she got her
hooks into Kelvin Halliday.

She invited Walter to their wedding. He
almost wasn't there because he

overslept.

They'd all had drinkies after the show.

It would be very late home.

Not very. I was still up.

We finished a jigsaw and then we both
went to bed.

Thankfully, all that was just a phase.

Walter's happiest with his mother.

The men are.

You didn't go out again?

Only Chief Inspector Primer said that
next day you'd reported an Indian

gentleman late that night.

Lurking.

He's mistaken the date. That was the
night before or after.

They're all thieves. Of course I
reported him.

I had the most exquisite emerald earring
stolen when I lived in Delhi with my

late husband.

What was your relationship with Helen
Marsden?

I loved her.

Before she became engaged to my father.

And afterwards.

I don't mean... I loved Helen as a
dearest friend.

We were so very close.

I used to confide everything in her.

Much to the disgust of my mother.

But I didn't care.

Helen was so...

understanding of how beguiled a shy
country solicitor was by her world.

She used to invite me to watch the show
from the wing.

It was thrilling to have a part in it.

There may

not

have been a London Palladian.

But it beat Thursday Night Monopoly with
Mother and her friends into a cocked

hat, I can tell you.

Did she ever talk of her family?

The Funnybones were her family.

And on that last night, I felt like one
of the family too.

Old Lionel and Dickie.

Jackie.

Janet.

And little Evie Ballantyne. Oh, Jackie.

Yes, you were, Ben.

But there was a feeling of sadness.

We knew that Helen leaving would change
everything.

Fellow artists, loyal fans, we've packed
our grease paint, our trunk,

and we go our separate ways until next
year.

Except, of course, our wonderful Helen,
who has chosen married bliss ahead of a

life trudging the board.

Bravo. Still, no hard feelings, Holiday.

Thank you.

The toast is the funny bones.

Funny bones. Funny bones.

I went home feeling a little sad.

Do not pass go and autumn beckoning.

George, where's that tea?

I'm not in hell.

All our dreams.

Where did they go?

Except for Evie's, of course.

Oh? Eve Ballantyne at Ballantyne with a
Y.

You must have heard her records on the
wireless.

Well, I'm not terribly up to date, I'm
afraid.

Oh.

Dickie be down in a moment.

Of course, I remember that night.

End of the season.

And as it turned out, end of the funny
bones.

Toad

is

the funny bone.

Funny bone.

We were all in the party spirit.

Who wants to first dance with the
smoothest smoocher on the south coast?

Jackie Affleck.

Janet. Well, that's his usual trick.

Not me.

Either Jackie.

Ellen.

It's your last night of freedom.

Watch out for his papadobly, girls.

Poor old Lionel.

Died the next Christmas.

Demon king in Panto, were they?

Trap door opened too soon.

Southie.

He broke his neck.

This is little Gwenda Dickey.

Kelvin Halliday's girl. And Mr Horn.
Beam. Oh, Beam.

Pleased to meet you.

You said it was the end of the funny
bones, Mrs. Erskine.

Well, by the next summer, things would
change for us, hadn't they, dear?

And on that last night, I had some news
for him.

Dickie.

Dickie. What?

I'm pregnant, dear.

We couldn't run a company and bring up a
baby.

This is our George.

He's 18 now.

You're George?

We met him through Mr. Fane when I
bought Hillside.

Charming lad.

Yes.

Dickie thought that Walter would never
take him on, but I said it was worth a

try. He's doing jolly well.

Did you see my father later that night?

Yes.

He was frantic.

Some of Helen's stuff had gone missing
from Hillside and so he got me out of

so that he could look in her wardrobe.

Her wedding outfit was still there.

He got you out of bed?

Yes, I'd slept in Helen's room that
night because Dickie was snoring.

First floor, at the back, she used to
share with Evie.

This used to be the Funnyburns digs when
it was Mrs Finderson's.

After the war, we had to adjust.

Medals don't pay bills.

Dilma seemed like the obvious place, so
we bought the house ourselves.

You know what I thought?

That Helen and Jackie Affleck had run
off together.

It's not right, Jackie.

I overheard him talking her into it.
Have you ever changed your mind?

Then he was the only one who wasn't
there next morning.

Apart from Helen, of course.

Noah mentioned it while we waited
outside the town hall.

But it's what we were all thinking.

What a sorry bunch we looked that
morning.

You with your black eye.

I tripped over a stage weight.

... ... ... ... ...

Is it left at the top of the lane for
Dr. Kennedy's all right?

Miss Marple, still sleuthing?

I hate an unsolved case.

There was no case to solve.

Possibly not.

Left all right.

Have you found out something?

Well, yes and no. Oh, terribly
confusing.

An Indian man on the promenade.

The young bride's missing true, sir.

Funny bone in the wrong bed, of course.

This is really sent from Helen Marsden.

It's left.

Oh.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

Happy retirement.

You wouldn't have something else Helen
had written from before.

Something we knew could be hunky -dory.
Well, when Miss Markle told me you were

probably taking the case, I thought of
this.

But an autograph's hardly typical, is
it?

No good for a comparison, no.

Nothing else?

I'm afraid not.

This could be hunky -dory.

Darling James, you're the best, best man
ever.

My fondest love for being so wonderful
to me.

Your very own Helen.

I'd forgotten that. Well done.

Very theatrical.

That was her.

I was rather flattered.

We'll, um, get these off to the experts,
then.

Oh, um, just for the record, Doctor,
where were you that night?

As I told Miss Marple, I was here
asleep.

Alone, I take it? Very much so, thank
you.

Do you know why she was at Hillside that
night?

Was she?

According to Mrs Padgett. Kelvin never
told me that.

I know Claire did sometimes.

I'm so sorry. My shift has been on my
mind terribly since Gwenda came into my

life. Helen did sometimes spend the
night with Kelvin.

I tried not to judge.

They were desperately in love.

We can't rule out any possibility yet,
can we?

If it were me, I'd be trying to find
that maid, Lily, and find out what she

knew.

I placed an advertisement for her
yesterday.

Have you?

Yes. Oh.

Good.

Do you think Earthman was right about
Jackie Affleck?

Let's find out.

He'd done well for himself.

That was my dot.

Dorothy.

Her first husband was Dougal's Biscuits.

I met her niece when she was a very
merry widow.

And Bob was her uncle.

God rest her soul.

I haven't had my vitamins today.

Neat. Yeah, I ran a little bar down
there for a while.

Well, until I met Dot.

See? I was set up in France when I left
the Funnybones.

That must have cost a bit.

Thrifty me.

Why weren't you at the registry office
with the other Funnybones? Were you not

invited? I'd had enough with Dilma, if
that's all.

Of course I was invited.

I was there when they first met.

We were, um...

Rehearsing a new number when he wanted
it. You'd be too.

With you in his arms.

If he'd play with your man,

done fell through.

Daddy, look.

Shh.

Sorry.

It was my late wife's favourite song.

She had hate.

Look, do you mind? I've got Calent here
and he's my undivided attention.

There was a time I was the

only one But now I'm

He's gone and we're through Am I

blue?

You were asking me about it last night.

Mr Erskine said he had an argument with
a stage weight. Got a black eye.

Did he?

Did he really?

It was my fist.

You see, Erskine and me, we never really
hit it off.

And things came to a head on it last
night.

Who wants first dance with the smoothest
smoocher on the south coast?

Janet? He knew his mistress was just
playing hard to get with yours truly.

Not me.

I will, Jackie.

Helen?

It's your last night of freedom, to be
honest.

I thought if I played my cards right...
Enough's enough now, ladies.

I'm cutting in.

She wouldn't play ball.

Where are you going?

What about me, Jackie? Won't I do? Oh,
come on, it's such a lovely song.

Please, Jackie, just get off. You said
something to her and she was gone.

See you in the morning.

Jackie, please. Evie, I've got enough
bad habits inside of you. Now get off!

Evie had been after me all season.

Sad, really.

That you are. And then... Why did he
attack you?

Search me.

I didn't hang around to ask.

I left him on the floor, went back to
the digs.

Got stuck into a bottle of malt with
Lionel Ruff.

Long gone now, of course, old Lionel.

Can you think of any reasons for Helen's
disappearance?

Maybe she was murdered.

Have you thought of that?

As it happens, Mr. Affleck. No.

No, we haven't.

Go on.

Well, if you ask me,

Erskine bumped Helen off.

Why? Because the funny bones were his
life.

We packed our grease paints, our trunks.

He knew she was our biggest draw.

He reckoned her marrying him was going
to break us all up. Except, of course,

our wonderful Helen, who has chosen
married blitz.

A head of life trudging the board.

Bravo. Dill.

No hard feelings, holiday.

I'll tell you something else as well.

He had a wife before, Janet.

And she disappeared.

What do you know about her?

I mean, that she couldn't have kids.

Yeah, he told me once he said that that
set them against each other.

Anyway, bright and early the next
morning, I get on the milk train out of

Dilmuth.

Never looked back.

How interesting.

Helen would turn her back on Jackie
Affleck and a glittering career to

down in a rather conventional marriage.

And to a man with a child.

Jolly romantic, Liv.

Romantic? She was a little gold digger.
The very same song that meant so much to

your mother.

It's a lovely story.

Yes.

Gwenda? Mr. Vanston is so well
connected. Do you think the Delhi police

let him see the file on your mother's
accident?

My mother? I think your mother's death
may be significant.

You think my father's a madman who
murdered my mother and then came to

and murdered Helen?

Where did you find this woman, Mr.
Hornbeam?

Wherever it was, you can send her back.

I am so sorry.

She'll calm down.

If her mother's accident was really
murder, you must think it was her

Unless you're suggesting Dr.

Kennedy killed his own sister. Dr.
Kennedy?

Oh, I'm sure he was never in India.

But perhaps one of the funny bones was.

That was just plain bloody rude, Gwenda.
Mick Halliday to you. I'm very fond of

you, Gwenda, but my fondness is being
sorely tested. Then don't be fond! I

help it.

Can't you?

George was 11 when you came back to
Dilma.

Just the age when a boy needs a father's
influence, I would think.

Oh, he's lucky that his came back from
the fighting. So many didn't.

Vicky wanted to try a new life in India.

You'd worked there before we were
married. I said, no.

Dilma has everything we need.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Hillside Dilma.

Information sought regarding Lily
Kimball. House made at the above address

1934.

Telephone Dormuth 8123.

Could be money in it.

Nah. Stranger things have happened.

Could be a shed load of trouble. You and
your daft notions.

And feed them chickens.

Dear Dr.

Kennedy, please can you give me advice,
because you are a professional

gentleman. What to do about enclosed?

What was in the paper?

After all this time, I don't know what's
for the best. If you can advise, I will

visit tomorrow morning and oblige. Yours
respectfully, Lily Tut, as was Lily

Kimball, housemaid at Hillside.

At last we could be getting somewhere.

Mr. Hamilton.

I can't speak any louder, I'm afraid,
sir, in case she hears.

What have you found out?

Claire Halliday's death in 1933 was
never regarded as anything but an

though the traffic division released the
file to an Inspector Chopra of the

criminal police some months later.

Hornbeam, is this secrecy strictly
necessary?

Believe me, sir, it could make all the
difference to your future happiness.

Could you find this Inspector Chopra?
And I'll be wiring something very

important through tomorrow.

Thank you.

The Palladium.

Confirming Eve Ballantyne with a Y will
see us after the show.

Do this up for me, will you?

I'm giving it an outing before the big
day.

My whole flat would fit in this suite.

How do you manage?

If I feel cramped, there's Kensington
Garden.

Any spare time from Vanston
International, I do the Geological

Rock? No.

It had a name for the wall.

It's what I studied.

But with my mother left alone with two
much younger brothers, I ecstatically

depressed at wash deposits wouldn't have
put bread on the table.

Before we go back tomorrow, Hugh, do you
think if there's time we could see

Buckingham Palace and Big Ben? Oh, and
is Windsor Castle very far?

Well, I don't know, do I?

This is the end of romance

I'll go my way

by myself Love is all

Chocolate, dear.

You're wearing Helen's necklace.

Helen's? I asked to borrow it once, but
she wouldn't.

Used to be your mother's.

I know.

Helen said she wore it to remember dear
Claire for Kelvin's sake.

But then that's how they were.

This way, everyone.

Come on, come on, come on. What are you
doing?

Helen.

Charlie.

Will you marry me?

Yes, Calvin.

For all my heart.

Giving everything up for a man.

Pass the thick bag, Alice.

I never understood it.

She could have hit the heights, you
know.

But she wanted to be a dear little wifey
with a sweet little kiddie.

Don't you miss that?

No, cutie pie.

The last night in Dilmouth.

Oh, Dilmouth.

What a dump.

I wonder how Dickie Erskine is these
days. One of my solo spots seems to be

working. Obviously, I need to do a bit
more.

that will practice on my time step. I
can sing, and I'm ambitious, Dickie. I

want my own spotlight.

I want a dress made just for me. I want
to be front page news. Sweetheart, let's

be honest. I've heard you never in a
million years.

I like to think he's crept into the
cheap seat since then and cried.

And Jackie Affleck.

Were you in love with him?

That jerk.

Give me a break.

Why, what's he been saying?

Tears at the last night party.

Oh, well, I was sentimental back then.

And it was the end of the funny bones.

I knew I was leaving Dilmouth to take
the long, hard road to Stardom.

Do you remember anything unusual
happening that night?

Oh, um... Well, there was Walter Fane, I
suppose.

I got back to the digs and there he was.

Talk about desperate.

Where's Helen?

She's not back.

They mustn't see her. I'm sorry, I can't
help you.

Be okay, sleep.

That's it.

I've got fans to thrill.

Do you have a problem with your eyes?

The one thing I learned from Helen, my
dear, was mystery.

Miss Valentine, have you ever been to
India?

Yes. When?

During the war.

Bringing much -needed glamour to our
dear, brave troops.

Why?

Nothing.

Well, goodbye, darling.

I'll tell you one thing.

I won't go down on bended knee when I
propose.

Far too showy. I bet you do.

I'll check up on you when you're
engaged.

The day we met, there was a fork in the
road.

And I wanted to go one way.

And I said, I always follow my instinct.

Yes?

Telephone message from Exhalidator.

Miss Marple.

Lily's been in touch and they're meeting
her in the morning.

Early start, then.

Early start.

Yes. You're quite sure?

Go on. She should be here.

The station's just a short walk.

Do you need another aspirin?

No.

How's Charles this morning?

Well, thank you. It was lovely to hear
him.

I wonder if Lily called in at the
Erskine's first by any chance.

Why?

It's just I bumped into Dickie in the
street.

Said she was coming to Dillmouth. He
remembered her well.

A loyal fan.

That was Scotland Yard's handwriting
expert about Helen's postcard.

No doubt about it. A forgery?

Genuine. He's 100 % certain.

That means your father couldn't have
murdered Helen because Helen wasn't

murdered. My father couldn't have
murdered Helen because my father would

have murdered anyone.

Helen was strangled. I saw it.

No one will ever make me say I didn't.

You believe me, don't you? Promise?

I believe you saw a murder, Gwenda.

I promise I do.

And I can't believe my father would kill
himself.

Perhaps someone murdered him too.

Strangled.

I won't be retiring Friday.

This isn't the way from the station.

Not from Woodley Bolton Station, no.

But it is from Matching's Halt. I told
her to get off at Woodley Bolton.

And to be on the 10 .30 from Coombe Lee.

But according to the ticket collector of
Matching's Halt, she was on the 9 .30.

Why?

If Alan wasn't murdered, what did Lily
know that's got her killed?

Without Helen's postcard and the
handwriting, are we quite sure it proves

You can't argue with the experts.

Now, I've been thinking. Mr Richard
Erskine had a first wife who ran off,

he? Never seen again.

So Jackie Affleck said.

But what possible connection... There's
a technical term we use, Miss Marple.

Following a hunch.

Ah.

Erskine came back to Dilmouth after the
war.

Say he did so to keep an eye on Lily
because she knew he'd murdered his first

wife. He found out she was coming to see
Dr. Kennedy. Anybody could have known

that. I doubt Dilma's much different
from my own Mary Mead when it comes to

gossip. And we may think the funny bones
aren't in touch with each other, but

can we really be sure?

You think I should get them all here?

I wouldn't dream of suggesting what you
should do.

I'll consider it.

He's the only funny bone Lily had a
photograph of.

Why not?

We know he was her favorite.

Mr. Tut, did Lily often talk about her
time at Dilmuth?

In Hillside?

No. Except when she was saying how she
should have.

stayed in service rather than live this
life out here with me.

If there's something in particular you
want to know, ask.

I'm off to see her mother.

What did Lily make of Miss Marsden's
disappearance?

Never believed she'd run off.

That's what you mean.

Unless she went to the North Pole.

That's what she used to say.

North Pole?

Don't search me.

Thank you, Mr. Tutt. You've been very
helpful indeed.

Please accept this. No, I'm sure Mr.
Tutt... I'm sure Mr. Tutt does.

I've got to bury you decent.

Thank you, miss.

We're very fortunate, aren't we?

The North Pole.

Don't you see?

All of Helen's clothes, apart from her
wedding outfit, were at hillside.

It was high...

Summer.

Lily must have noticed that Helen had
taken winter clothes, not summer ones.

Or rather the murderer had, in a panic.

You clever thing.

I am rather, aren't I?

I do think the police might wonder, you
see, what was seen at the funny bone

digs when you say he was here with you
and a jigsaw.

He was.

And was he here with you when Lily Tut
was murdered, too?

Mrs. Fane?

All but very dear to me.

The bond between mother and child, or
father and child, always finds

expression somehow.

Whether through love or through making
allowances. What would you know about

motherhood?

Is that Carly?

Yes, Carly.

Dark and terrible mother.

Sergeant McCauley, please.

He's expecting my call.

Mrs. Erskine swears her husband was at
home at the time of Lily's murder, and

I'm inclined to believe her.

But Mr. Erskine claims his first wife
married again to a crofter in the Outer

Hebrides, which sounds like a right cock
-and -bull story to me, as I'm sure the

local police will be confirming even as
we speak.

It's fascinating to see how a hunch
works.

But I do hope they won't be too long
about it. Everyone will be here quite

Arthur Primer.

Yes, Sergeant.

Yes.

I see.

And cheerio the new to you, too.

Mr. Erskine was telling the truth.

First wife alive and kicking, with
second husband and six kids.

Six children?

And fifty sheep.

Dilma? Oh, yes, yes, if I'm not.

Have a wizard time?

Give your old man a hug, Thoth.

We're about to catch a killer.

You mean my house can't be well
presented?

Sorry, Mr. Holmby, but there were a
message for you this afternoon from

Mr. Vanstone. He said he got what you
wired and he found Inspector Chopra and

the inspector were investigating a jewel
robbery.

Jewelry? Did he say what sort?

No. Have you been speaking to Charles
behind my back? I'm sorry.

It was necessary. Believe me.

We'll be... One, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, eight, nine... Eleven.

Eleven?

Cocktails, please, Mrs Pudgett.

No, sherry.

With ice.

Ah, Dr Kennedy.

They're in there.

Oh.

Thank you.

Miss Ballantyne. Mr. Affleck.

How's tricks?

Tricky.

Miss Ballantyne, may I say that your
success is very well deserved?

Yes, Walter, dear, you may.

Oh, Dickie, look at you.

Do you know what time it is here, madam?

I'm not exactly sure, but I imagine it's
dreadfully late.

And I'm so sorry to have got you out of
what is evidently the wrong side of your

bed, Mr. Branston. If this is anything
less than Gwenda dropping dead... By the

way, I take it she hasn't. Did you say
by the way?

Yes, why?

Oh, the line crackled.

Please arrange to show Inspector Chopra
what we wired immediately.

And what's this about a jewel robbery?

18 years ago, Helen Marsden was murdered
in this house.

Her killer is in this room.

Mr. Fane.

What?

Where were you that night, apart from at
the Funnybones Dicks looking for Helen

Marsden?

Well, they asked, Walter.

And it was a bit odd.

And you were a bit odd.

You were obsessed with Helen, weren't
you? I told you already, she was my

friend.

Did you want her to be more than that?

No. Please just tell the truth.

I can't.

It would mean turning someone's world
upside down.

Your choice, Fane.

It's mine.

Tell them, Walter.

At the goodbye do, I realized I couldn't
let Janet leave without a very

private goodbye.

I went to her dressing room, but I had
Dickie coming, so I had to hide.

Dickie. Dickie.

What?

I'm pregnant, dear.

How can I keep a company running with a
child on my...

Stupid bloody woman!

I was as shocked as he was.

But I just knew somehow when I
overheard.

Are you saying Fane?

Yes.

He is George's father.

Walter! Oh, Dickie.

You've always known, haven't you,
somehow, that George isn't your son?

Yes. Because it wasn't your first wife
who couldn't have children, was it, Mr

Erskine?

She's married six with her second
husband.

It was you.

Go on, Mr. Fane.

I went home.

I heard you come in and go to your room.

Half an hour later... I went to look for
Helen.

She was the only one who knew about
Janet and me, and I needed to talk.

I followed him.

Then I saw that Indian man, and I was
frightened, so I went home.

I was waiting at the funny bones dig.

Where's Helen?

She's not back.

I must see her. I'm sorry, I can't help
you. Which is when Miss Valentine saw

me.

Walter, I'm sorry.

Oh, how could I ever have thought of
you?

My own child.

You were always such a gentle boy. You
could never kill anyone.

You've got the bright side.

You never thought you'd have a
grandchild.

No wonder you took in George.

I could have saved myself a black eye.

You thought it was me?

Mr. Erskine, what did you tell Helen at
the party?

I told her I'd seen that Indian chap
hanging about by the stage door. She

couldn't get out to the theatre fast
enough. Through the front entrance.

She seemed terrified with him, isn't
she?

How intriguing.

Sorry.

Do go on.

Nothing much to tell except taking a
swing at Affleck.

When you hightailed it out of Dilmouth
in the morning, I assumed you had a

guilty conscience about Janet.

Maybe the guilt was about Helen.

Oh, come off it.

You had to fail to get your way with her
at the party.

I know, but... Look, I went back to the
digs.

Honest.

And then for the rest of the night...
This places me in a very difficult

position, professionally speaking.

You, Dr Kennedy?

Oh, well, if it's the only way.

Jackie couldn't have killed Helen.

No, now, we've all got to tell the
truth, or you'll be in a tight spot.

We were just kids.

It was bad enough for me in the bar.

Who wants birthed aunt with the
smoothest smoocher on the south coast?

I will, Jackie.

And then it got worse.

I want to be front page news.
Sweetheart, I've heard you never in a

years.

I've got enough bad habits inside of
you, now get off!

Is it any wonder I did a stupid, stupid
thing?

She was in my room.

God knows how many of those pills she
had taken.

I got her into Lionel Laf's old jalopy
and I took her up to see the doc.

I gave Miss Ballantyne an emetic.

And when she was rid of the worst, I sat
with her until close to dawn while she

slept it off.

Why didn't you take her to the hospital?

The pills were benzedrugs.

Illegal drugs.

Well, I needed a lift, darling.

Have you ever tried playing xylophone
and tap dancing at the same time?

Who supplied you?

Someone who liked his vitamin, Mr
Affleck.

And made enough on the side to open a
little bar in France.

Yes.

It was a nice little earner.

Helen knew all about it.

If you ever change your mind, eh?

So we three, though not for the most
respectable of reasons, do have our

It's not quite true, is it, Doctor, in
your case?

Neither Mr Affleck nor Miss Ballantyne
would have been any the wiser if you'd

slipped out, come up here and strangled
Helen.

Well, strictly speaking, I suppose.

And strictly.

You don't have an alibi for Lily's
strangling, either.

I was with you at the time we thought
she was arriving from the station.

How could I have known she'd changed her
plans?

She should be here.

The station's just a short walk.

I think you were most ingenious.

Perhaps the letter found on her body
wasn't the one you sent her, and what

really told her to do was catch the 9
.30 train, get off at Matching's Hold.

and take a footpath.

You'd have had an hour in hand, and a
quiet place to kill her.

And substitute a letter you'd never
posted, which specified the 10 .30 train

Woody Bolton station.

This beats the convoluted and bizarre
fantasies of my most disturbed patients.

To have a liking for little tricks
involving the post. I think Helen's card

was another.

Or rather, your card, since I believe
you forged it and sent it from London.

Don't you trust Scotland Yard? Oh, yes,
their expert was quite right. The card

and photograph were both written in the
same hand.

Could have been yours.

Disguised. When you knew Mr. Primer and
I were coming to see you, you would have

written that message from Helen on the
back.

Darling James, you're the best, best man
ever.

My fondest love for being so wonderful
to me. Your very own Helen.

You must have intercepted the card
before it was delivered here to Kelvin

Halliday. You followed Mr.

Halliday on his regular cliff walk
and...

pushed him to his death on the rocks
below.

Then you delivered the postcard, so when
it was found, everyone assumed he'd

killed himself after reading from Helen
that she'd gone from his life forever.

Oh, this is preposterous.

Why on earth would I kill Helen Marsden?

Where's this taking us?

To India, Dr Kennedy, and to your sister
Claire. My mother again?

Excuse me.

Your mother, Gwenda, was dismissed from
her post as governess for theft.

By the time she met your father, she was
working in a nightclub. She danced with

lonely men, nothing more, but sometimes
an unguarded pocket

was picked.

Then she fell in love and married, and
you were born, but her part caught up

with her.

Inspector Chopra of the Delhi police was
on the trail of some stolen jewellery.

What's this to do with the murder of
Helen

Marsden?

That telephone call was from India.

You killed your sister.

I've never been to India.

She didn't die in India.

She died in Dilmas.

Clare Halliday and Helen Marsden were
one and the same person.

Clare and Kelvin Halliday devised a plan
to start a new life so she could leave

her criminal past behind her once and
for all.

God's a wreck, darling.

Oh, darling, I...

I'll see you in England.

Claire's car accident was staged like
the rest of the charade.

She came to England and my father
followed later with me.

Yes, Gwenda.

Exit stage right. Claire Halliday enters
stage left. Helen Marsden, because it

was a performance.

With the funny bones as their all
-important audience.

Sorry.

It was my late wife's favourite song.

Will you marry me?

Yes, Alvin.

But it wasn't just the police she was
avoiding in Dilma.

Possibly she went to India in the first
place because she found you a little...

overprotective of her.

Whatever the reason, she had no
intention of continuing a career that

bring her the wrong kind of recognition
once she was married.

If only Miss Dad Halliday hadn't put
that engagement notice in the Times. She

was cross about that, as Mrs. Patchett
heard.

Kelvin Halliday didn't invite you down
to Dilmouth, did he?

You read that engagement notice and...
Decided to come and meet the man who had

married your late and much -loved sister
and discovered her very much alive.

James. Helen.

Kelvin speaks so lovingly of your
sister.

Dear Claire.

Did you enjoy playing the role?

Why would I kill my sister?

Darling James.

Oh, my fondest love.

Your very own.

Sort of thing.

Helen Marsden could write, but knowing
she didn't, I wonder if you... Forgive

me. Doctor subconsciously chose the
words you longed for Claire to say to

Is that why you became a psychiatrist?

Did Vision heal thyself?

Not heal.

It was too late for that.

I understand.

But I now know I could never have loved
any other woman but Claire.

What happened?

When Mr. Erskine told Claire, and let us
please remember her by her real name,

about the Indian.

She assumed it was one of Mr. Chopry's
men come to track her down about the

jewelry.

Are you in the morning?

It was.

So she came to see Kelvin.

Mrs. Patchett heard them arguing about a
man.

Calm down.

I'm not going to see him. Well, I am.

If you think I get to stand by, let
alone... Kelvin went to look for him,

phoned me.

All I wanted...

With one proper kiss.

For my little sister before it was too
late.

Just once.

Just tonight.

For your darling, James.

No. You're my very own.

My very own.

Constable? James Alfred Kennedy.

You have the right to remain silent, but
anything you say... Where's my mother?

Uncle James.

Where is he?

Mrs. Bundabaker's wife?

She deserves better.

Mr. Vanston sounded most unsuitable to
me.

But they're engaged.

But not married.

Yet.