All language subtitles for Father Brown.s03e05.The Last Man.BDRip.1080p.Rus.Eng

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Well played, Captain.

Well done, brother.

Congratulations.

Bravo, bravo.

Nice one, old man.

A gentleman and a player.

Hear, hear.

Are you all right, Vince?

You done the old man proud.

Shall I say a prayer?

Nice try, Brown,
but as a devout atheist, I think

my brother would prefer to be
remembered

~ with this.
~ Oh, yes.

Chateau Laponte.

One of his last two bottles.
It seemed a fitting occasion.

Indeed.

Wish me luck?

He'd be turning in his grave if he
could see the state of the team.

No captain. Chairman AWOL.

Monty's in the Commonwealth
with Her Majesty.

I did some wicket keeping
in my seminary days.

Perhaps you could
step in for your husband.

Whip them all into shape.

~ She's a woman!
~ Commendable powers
of observation, Major.

Women don't know
anything about cricket.

Actually, I'm not completely
clueless.

Hear, hear. That's settled, then.

You're in charge.

Bloody lunacy.

Howzat?!

I've just been admiring the ground.

Although I'm curious,
Professor Milton, as to why it says

Hambleston CC above the pavilion?

These acres were once
the site of a boundary

dispute between Lord Hambleston
and the Earl of Montague.

Generations of infighting.

It all got frightfully tedious so
they reached a gentlemen's
agreement.

An annual cricket match,

with the winning side claiming
ownership for the following year.

Over time,
it became this ground here.

It's our local derby.
Fiercely fought.

And a week tomorrow.

All prepared, milady?

I'm afraid you have me
at a disadvantage.

Max Scullion. Your new neighbour.

Oh, of course.

Geordie Hambleston's yet another
victim of Mr Atlee's death duties.

Mr Scullion is the new
owner of the estate.

You must dine with me next week.

It would be my pleasure.

Welcome to Kembleford.

Thank you. Although we are
technically on Hambleston soil.

Nine years in a row to be exact.

Are you a cricketer?

Don't know one end of a bat from
the other but I like a challenge,

and my team's coming
together nicely.

Which is more than can be
said for yours.

Is this it?

Fred Pebble's out with a gammy leg.

Vince Lennon?

Said he'd be along.

If he's got time.

Which means we're only eight men.

Um... If you're looking for
volunteers,

I'm told I was quite a handy
leg break in my youth.

Thank you, Father.

It seems we face an uphill task.

Forgive the intrusion.
Raj Chandraty.

Dr Fairfax's locum.

Oh, of course.

Mrs McCarthy informs me
you are looking for players.

Your arrival couldn't be
more timely.

No, no. Wait just a minute.

Shouldn't we be discussing amongst
ourselves whether he's suitable?

I assume you wouldn't be here
if not a player.

I was an amateur
for the Jaipur Maharajas.

Before that, captain of
the University of Calcutta XI.

And we short a captain.
How very propitious.

Steady on. Surely there's someone
more officer material.

Well, like this fellow here?

I second Lady Felicia's proposal.

Welcome on board, Doctor.

Hear, hear! Welcome.

I've a feeling we'll be needing you.

This is Major Peter Wallander.
Club Secretary.

How do you do?

You're late. The meeting's over.

Then, do you need any odd jobs doing?

You're sacked.

And if I catch you
sniffing round my house again,

I'll knock you to hell and back.

I think you have an audience.

Morning.

This is Vince Lennon.

Demon fast bowler and our best
hope of victory against Hambleston.

Vince. This is your new captain.

They made the punka wallah
team captain?

Bet that went down well
with Major Blimp.

Watch your mouth, Lennon, unless you
want to find yourself in more
trouble.

No offence intended.
See you around, Doc.

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

And I think three dozen
of my scones.

We wouldn't want to run
out like we did last year.

Or the year before that.

Holy Mother of God!

Amen.

Get this to the lab, please,
Sergeant.

Yes, sir.

I was thinking the same thing.

Don't tell me.

I can now add telepathy
to your list of abilities?

That's an exit wound.
The body was turned over.

Curiously formal, don't you think?

And then... they washed his face.

I think I can draw my own
conclusions, thank you.

Do you happen to know
who his next of kin is?

Jane Milton.

Professor Milton is
Vince Lennon's next of kin?

I'm afraid so.

He was eight.

An evacuee from some godforsaken
slum where he'd never known

anything but abuse.

When his family were
killed in a bombing raid, my brother

and I adopted him.

That was very altruistic.

Humane.

Vince was, well,
he was a very damaged child.

Filthy and malnourished.

Almost feral at first.

We thought that with enough time

and love he could become
a valuable member of society.

That nurture could triumph over
nature and love could conquer all.

Your brother,
he took his own life last year.

Do you mind me asking why?

The only one that can
answer that is Charles.

Do the police know who was
responsible?

Vince Lennon collected enemies
the way other people collect stamps.

So I expect it will be a while to
work their way through the list.

In the meantime, to be brutally
practical, we've lost our fast

bowler - I'm hoping you or the
inspector may provide a bit of pace.

Are you something
of an expert, Your Ladyship?

Oh, gosh. Hardly. Although I do have
six older brothers

so something may have sunk in.

Sorry to interrupt. I think there's
something you should see.

Come on.

I suppose it's appropriate.

Although Vince would hate it.

Do you think they'd all be shocked
if I laid him

to rest in a bomber jacket?

I don't think you've ever given
a jot for convention.

If you're investigating,
I should tell you the police already

searched and found nothing.

Maybe they were
looking in the wrong place.

Missal.

Vince hasn't attended mass
since he was 16.

I suppose it didn't help us
both being atheists.

But we could hardly deny him
his birth religion.

Initials, dates, amounts,
£15, £15, £25.

These aren't odd jobs.

And this.

Blackmail?

Does it say who they are?

Only initials.

OM. PW. LB.

The payments from OM
stop a year ago.

You think one of them sent this?

Well, someone "settled the matter"
for once and for all.

Did you see that specialist?

Yes.

He said I'd outlive you!

We have to give this to the police.

I suppose we must.

I sense a "but".

Even if one of them is the murderer,
what of the others?

The police will have to track them
down, poor souls.

All those secrets laid bare.

Lives ruined.

I see you have some new players?

Local men, are they?

Australia. Cattlemen hired to
work on my estate.

I'm surprised to see you at practice
under the circumstances.

Victory is the offspring
of preparation and opportunity.

The murdered boy was
a member of our team.

Like I said.

Howzat!

~ Howzat.
~ Thank you, Doctor.

May I introduce our new captain,
Raj Chandraty?

Looks like I'm not the only one with
a foreigner on his team.

I'll see you at dinner
tonight, milady.

I look forward to it.

He doesn't have
cattle on his estate.

I'm so glad you could come.

It beats sitting at home moping.

And I confess my curiosity
as to what the opposition are up to.

Ringers on the team indeed.

It seems like a lot of effort
for a village cricket match.

Is there a Mrs Scullion?

Three. Scattered all round
the country. Bleeding me dry.

You been married long?

Two years.

I'd keep an eye on her
if I were you.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

PW.

How's the investigation going?
Have you found the murder weapon?

We've only identified
the make as of yet.

Walther P38. The country's awash
with ruddy war souvenirs.

I'm afraid I can't say.

Bit of a blow losing your
star player.

I'm sure our new captain will
make up the deficit.

May the best side win.

I'm surprised you're all being

so casual about your tenth defeat
in a row.

You don't know?

Know what?

I suggest you take a look
at the original articles of 1783.

Should either side be
victor for ten successive years,

they claim ownership
of the land in perpetuity.

~ Did you know about this?
~ No, I didn't.

But the ground's been shared by
both villages for centuries.

It's a gentlemen's agreement.

In that case,
I'm glad I'm not a gentleman.

Shall I bring my sewing basket
and join you?

I prefer my own company.

Is that why you slept
in your dressing room last night?

I didn't want to
intrude on your grief.

For the umpteenth time there was
nothing between me and Vince Lennon.

Why won't you believe me?

I prefer the evidence
of my own eyes.

Talking. You saw us talking.

It didn't look like you were
discussing the windows.

What exactly were you talking about?

His money.
He said he was five shillings short.

Little Bear misses Daddy Bear.

Good morning.

Good morning, Father.
I'll fetch us some tea.

No prizes for guessing why
you're here.

What(?!)

This is what happens when you put
a woman and a darkie in charge.

If Scullion thinks we are going
to take this lying down...

I'm here about Vince.

If you want me to go to the funeral
you're wasting your breath.

He was a blackmailer.

Doesn't surprise me.
Crooked as a dog's hind leg.

He identified one of his victims
by the initials PW.

If you think that low life
would extort money...

I'd have knocked him to hell
and back first.

So you said,
the day he was murdered.

I didn't kill him.
Although I wish I had.

He was sniffing round my wife.

I see.

How long had Vince been
blackmailing you?

Does my husband know?

No.

And I won't tell him.

Or anything else you tell me.

How did you find out?

He referred to one of his victims
as LB. Little Bear?

It's what Peter calls me.

At least, he used to.

Vince liked to mimic...

He was vile and I'm glad he's dead.
At least...

Your secret is safe?

"Kept woman" sounds so much better
than whore, don't you think?

My first husband died in the war.

And I was all but destitute when
a "gentleman" offered me a lifeline.

What price virtue?

Well, in my case, a flat in
Maida Vale, a quarterly allowance...

.. and the loss of all self respect.

Peter had no idea.

He rescued me. He gave me
everything I've ever wanted.

Security, respectability,
and above all - unconditional love.

In which case, if you confess,
he will be able to forgive you.

And the proudest and the most
stubborn.

He'd never be able to forgive such
deceit.

He'd leave me.

And then my heart would break.

Sir.

I just took a telephone call with
information on the Lennon murder.

What kind of information?

The anonymous kind.

Go on.

"Why don't you find
out what the good doctor was

"burying in his garden
on Thursday night?

"That's what happens when you let...
his sort..."

Yes, Sergeant. Thank you.

I think I get the gist.

Have you handed in that book?

I've just come
from the police station.

And you've been sleuthing,
so spill the beans.

Is PW Peter Wallander?

No.

But you've found out something.

I think the initials refer to
nicknames.

Vince was fond of his nicknames.
The crueller the better, usually.

Yes.

So, if PW isn't Peter Wallander...?

I think I can make
an educated guess.

If you think I killed him,
you are mistaken.

I'm a physician.
I took an oath to save lives.

Not take them.

You still haven't
answered my question.

With respect,
that's a private matter.

Well, if the police make
the same deduction,

it will no longer be
a private matter.

For another's sake,
I can only pray that won't happen.

An affair of the heart?

You mistake me for a man of honour.

Yet I breached the sacred
bonds of marriage.

I disgraced myself
and betrayed my gods.

I said search, not destroy,
Sergeant.

Am I allowed to ask what you're
looking for?

I can't say. I'm sorry.

Sir.

I have never seen
that before in my life.

So, I followed them back into town.

Back, as in back to the Red Lion?

Guilty as charged, Mrs M.

There you are, Father. There's been
a development. Carry on, Sid.

Turns out they're surveyors
for the Ministry of Transport.

Scullion is selling off his land
for a dual carriageway.

The blaggard!

The only spanner in the works is the
five acres of land he doesn't own.

Yet.

The cricket ground.

He has got an absolute fortune
riding on that match tomorrow.

And with Vince gone our only hope
is the good doctor.

Vince Lennon was a blackmailer.

We believe he was lured
to his death by one of his victims.

I have to ask, was
he blackmailing you?

Yes.

Why?

I give you my word it isn't
relevant.

This is a murder investigation.
I'll need more than that.

It involves a third party.

Then, do you have an
alibi for the night of the murder?

No.

~ Not now.
~ From Father Brown, sir.

You may want to see this.

I'm halting
the interview for a tea break.

White, no sugar,
and one for the prisoner.

Yes, sir.

Can I speak to you off the record?

It seems Max Scullion has a deal
worth a fortune

resting on that match tomorrow.

Which makes the discovery of the gun

and the arrest of the opposition
captain very timely.

You think this was Scullion's work?

I'd stake my job on it.

But until we get the ballistics
back on that gun

and unless you can give me
an alibi for the night in question,

I'll have no choice
but to place you under arrest.

An Indian and a white woman.

One whiff of association
and she would lose everything.

Husband, home, children.

She'll be cast out, a social pariah.

I have disgraced her enough already.

'So, let's get this right.'

If we lose this match,
he builds a ruddy great road right

through the middle
of our cricket ground?

My lawyer says that though ancient,
the clause is watertight

and binding.

Then we're doomed.

Nine men, star player murdered,
captain banged up in a prison cell.

No-one blames you, Inspector.
This is Scullion's work.

I do.

Right, Sid's opening the bowling.
Sergeant Goodfellow in square leg.

Bill, I've put you in first slip.
Not too much running.

Inspector. Wicket keeper.

I'll be requiring you to
step up as captain.

It would be an honour.

Father Brown is as well out of
harm's way as possible.

And I've put Monty on the list

because he's here in spirit.

A penny for your thoughts?

They're hardly edifying.
I'm wishing I believed in hell.

If only so Max Scullion can
burn in a pit of boiling oil or

roasting on a spit
surrounded by pitchforked demons.

How wonderfully medieval.

I expect you'd prefer to redeem him.

Can you hold up?

I think I've got a stone in my shoe.

Always.
Hell is merely the absence of God.

I wouldn't wish
it on my own worst enemy.

I'm glad Charles isn't
here to see all this.

He loved that ground.

It would break his heart.

Now what are you doing?

That's Vince's scarf.

Good luck, chaps. May the best
team win. Play.

Where is Father Brown? We can't
afford to lose another player.

Maybe he was called away to
a parish emergency?

~ Should we send someone
to look for him?
~ No!

♪ Cricket, lovely cricket

♪ At Lord's where I saw it

♪ Cricket, lovely cricket

♪ At Lord's where I saw it

♪ Yardley tried his best

♪ But Goddard won the test

♪ They gave the crowd plenty fun

♪ Second Test and West Indies won

♪ With those two little pals of mine

♪ Ramadhin and Valentine... ♪

That's two.

♪ The King was there well attired

♪ So they started with Rae
and Stollmeyer

♪ Stolly was hitting balls
round the boundary

♪ But Wardle stopped him at 20... ♪

That's our captain!

The Lord will provide.

♪ So he put up a strong defence

♪ He saw the King was waiting to see

♪ So he gave him a century... ♪

You were saying.

Could be worse.

How?

We've got 196 runs to make
and we're down to eight men.

♪ West Indies first
innings total was 326

♪ Just as usual... ♪

Well played, darling.

Thank you, Constable.

I'll explain on the way.

Afternoon.
I see you've lost another captain.

Thanks to you. We all know who
planted that gun.

That's quite an accusation.
I trust you have a good lawyer.

God will be our judge.

The evil will
fall down before the good,

and the wicked before the gates
of the just.

You forget,
we have the Lord on our side.

Hah.

Catch it!

Well caught. Well bowled.

Bad luck, old man.

In all honesty,
I can't say well played.

But you did your level best.

Thank you.

I think.

Not so glum.

There's still hope the inspector
will spring our captain from jail.

Finding the real murder weapon was
nothing short of a miracle.

You don't believe in miracles.

Oh, the old stone in the shoe trick?

With our last hope of winning
the match languishing in jail

on a trumped-up murder charge,
I didn't have time to be subtle.

Why didn't you tell me
Vince was blackmailing Charles?

Ah. You know that.

"Old Man". Vince's nickname for him.

And the payments from OM stopped
shortly before he died.

I hoped it wouldn't come out.

Charles was a very private person

whose only secret was that he
loved other men.

He knew Vince would never let
him go.

And anyone he associated
with would be at risk.

Faced with living his life as a lie
- he chose death.

It was all
so tragically unnecessary.

Is that why you murdered Vince?

That is categorically not why
I murdered him.

That's our last man gone.

Bad luck, Goodfellow.

It seems like you're out of players.

Not quite, Mr Scullion.

That's something, at least.

Don't change the subject.

I forgave Vince for
Charles' suicide.

For the first time
he seemed genuinely

repentant for the effects
of his actions.

Shot!

And I confess to
an element of pride.

I wanted to believe he was sorry
because it...

well, it would have meant we hadn't
failed.

And we both know what follows pride.

He was back up to his old tricks
in weeks.

I saw the fear in their eyes.

The way people
crossed the street to avoid him.

You could have reported him to
the police.

Vince didn't fear the law,
man or God's.

So. You wrote the note that
lured him to the pavilion.

Then you killed your son.

As your God sacrificed his...

.. so that others may live.

And you laid out his body.

I couldn't leave him like that.
He hated sleeping on his front.

Always on his back,
arms by his side, ramrod straight.

That was very foolhardy.

The Grim Reaper will get me
before the long arm of the law.

Dodgy ticker.

Weeks at best,
if I took their wretched pills

and of course I stopped
when I decided to kill Vince.

I'm already on borrowed time.

Run, Major, run, run, run, run...

Oh, God.

~ Unlucky, Major.
~ Well played, Major.

Unlucky.

It looks like it's
down to you, Captain.

♪ West Indies was feeling homely

♪ Their audience had them happy

♪ When Washbrook's century had ended

♪ West Indies voices all blended

♪ Hats went in the air

♪ People jump and shout without fear

♪ So at Lord's was the scenery

♪ Bound to go down in history

♪ After all was said and done

♪ Second Test and West Indies won. ♪

Why didn't you tell me?

I didn't want to spend our final
days with you trying to

save my soul.

Oh, well done, Captain!

Bit wobbly.

Don't even think about calling
the doctor.

It's for the best.

My only fear was
dying in a prison cell.

I know you can't endorse what I did.

But as my most valued friend,
I hope you can understand.

Vince was a rotten apple who would
have contaminated a whole barrel.

Wreaking evil. And destroying lives.

I acted for the most
unselfish of reasons...

.. because he was my child...

.. and I loved him.

Good hit!

Three balls left.
Six runs to win. I hope you're...

Jolly good, Mrs M.

No!

Oh, ow!

Boys, boys, get the stretcher.

Oh, God. Quickly.

That's that, then.

I don't want you getting
all maudlin on me.

My affairs are in order.

I've lodged a full confession
with my solicitor to be

handed to the police on my death.

And I've left you my last
bottle of Laponte.

Oh.

Not for sharing, mind. I trust you
to find the appropriate occasion.

I'm rather more concerned with your
spiritual than your earthly affairs.

It's a bit late for that.

Everyone is redeemable.

~ Even me?
~ Especially you.

And until your last breath it is not
too late... to let him in.

Please tell me this isn't a last
ditch attempt at conversion.

Can't blame a chap for trying.

All right, Doctor...

Well, the match is won, milady.

There are two balls left
and six runs to win the match.

And you are out of players.
You only had ten men.

Victory is mine.

You are premature, Mr Scullion.
We have a last man.

I don't see him.

You're looking at her.

Do you even know how to play
cricket?

Six brothers, Mrs M.

I spent every summer of my childhood
being used for bowling practice.

Shoes?

I've no intention of running
anywhere.

For the first time in my life I'm
experiencing a frisson

of doubt in the irrationality
of believing in a higher being.

I've known more stubborn atheists
fall at the final hurdle.

Not that I'd tell you. I wouldn't
give you the satisfaction.

Naturally.

Although, if that is the case,
I must warn you we will meet again.

Now there's a final thought to
hang on to.

You'd be bloody insufferable.

My heart is poured out like water.
My bones are scattered.

And my heart, like wax, is melted.

~ Pub, lads?
~ Yes!

Shall I get Father Brown
and the professor?

They'll be along in their own
good time.

There's something
I have to tell you, Peter.

Yes, I know. And if you have a
modicum of respect, you'll spare me

the gory details.

I wasn't unfaithful. I couldn't be.

You're the best, the most wonderful
thing that's ever happened to me.

And if you think I'd sully that
with anyone, let alone

the likes of Vince Lennon.

I saw you together.

He was blackmailing me.

Our marriage is based on a lie.

When we met,

you assumed
I was a respectable woman

and I'm not who you think I am.

We met in the bar
of the King George.

I was never under any illusion
that you... had a past.

Then why?

Even from the start you always
treated me like a lady.

Because you were.

And are... a lady.

And about bloody time.

Peter. Language.

My final duty as Captain is to make
the "Man of The Match"

award to Lady Felicia.

Oh, thank you. It was a lucky shot.
Thank you.

I hear you're leaving us.

Yes, for a position in Wales.
It's for the best.

Goodbye, Doctor. You, sir,
are a gentleman and a player.

Now, there is a celebration tea
laid on in the pavilion.

So, if the man of the match
would like to lead the way.

I'd be honoured, Mrs McCarthy.

You coming in, Father?

Soon.

First, I have an appointment
with a rather fine Laponte.

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