Original subtitles

Here is Rebecca.

I know you have many questions.

So do I. After all, life is a mystery.

But if there's one answer to all the great riddles of the universe, one

to happiness, I propose it would be simply this.

Sleep.

No, seriously.

It really is sleep.

Okay, I'm coming.

In your last letter, you asked me if any of my sheep was special.

Well, they're all special. That's why I gave each one a name.

For instance, there are these rowdy twin rams I've named Ronnie and Reggie.

And a very proud and dignified Sir Richfield.

Cloud, the fluffiest.

Bit of a diva, that one.

Zora, the most curious.

Mopple, the most patient.

And Wool -Eyes.

Well, because I haven't thought of a better name.

And, okay, I know I said they're all special, but I have to admit that two of

sheep are the most special.

There's Sebastian.

My biggest ram.

Like me, a bit of a loner.

Sooner or later, he wanders away.

And sooner or later, he comes back.

And finally, Lily.

My smartest sheep. The one who always seems to know what I'm thinking in my

and feeling in my heart.

Above all others, she brings me the kind of peace that only shepherds know.

A peace that comes from taking care of the kindest creatures on earth.

A big day starts by tending to their health.

I keep them well fed, well groomed.

I do my best to keep them entertained.

And I make sure they get their medicine, which I think they'd say they enjoy, if

only they could speak.

Time for your medicine, mate.

There you go.

And when my chores are finished and the sun starts to sink low in the sky, I

choose the book to read out loud to them.

Detective novels, mysteries, whodunit, all my favourites. I know when Rodney

Hollingshead was murdered, and I know who the real killer was.

I like to pretend that they follow along with the story, but...

I know in my heart that as special as they are, they're still cheap.

No, no more.

Go on, a lot of you.

I'll read the ending tomorrow.

Why would he stop there?

He was just about to say who the killer was.

This is torture.

It was the mate, right? Of course it's the mate.

No, no, no. It was the carter. Always cutting the grass.

Never eating any. Yeah, but better.

Oh, no. The doctor did it. No way.

It was the creepy aunt. The creepy aunt. Three stories of God's genius. How do

we have the same parents?

Oh, here we go. Right.

Oh, there we go.

You're mine.

figured it out two chapters ago. The maid, right? Not the maid.

The nephew.

Bertie Hollingshead.

But Lily, didn't the detective prove all the evidence against Bertie

Hollingshead had been forged by the real killer?

Exactly. Don't you see?

To escape conviction, he forged the evidence himself.

Bertie Hollingshead was the real killer.

George is going to finish the story tomorrow.

You'll see.

I still think it's the main.

Mrs. Bertie knew all about the law that said a person cannot be prosecuted twice

for the same crime.

And so, to escape conviction, he forged the evidence himself.

Bertie Hollingshead was the real killer.

And most of my sheep seem to spend their day either eating or thinking about

eating. But I have three rambunctious lambs with boundless energy.

Happy, carefree little creatures who were born in the spring.

Actually, almost all lambs are born in the spring.

And then there's my one lamb who was born in the winter.

Do you want to play with us?

No, shoo!

You're not to play with that winter lamb. He doesn't belong in this flock.

For reasons that only make sense to a sheep, a flock will often reject a lamb

born in the winter just because the winter lamb is different.

Why is George always so nice in that lap? George isn't a sheep.

No one's ever taught him about winter lamps.

Oh, one last thing. If you accept my invitation, you should know that I live

near a town called Denver.

It has its own special type.

For instance...

Morning, Caleb.

Caleb, also a shepherd. Morning, ladies. Don't like him.

Ham, the butcher.

Really don't like him.

Beth, the innkeeper.

Doesn't like me. Oh, I could kill that man.

Tim, the policeman.

An idiot.

And Reverend Hillcoat, who fancies himself a shepherd of men.

We have a complicated relationship.

And now today's reading, The Parable of the Lost Sheep.

George, here he comes to join us.

All are welcome in the house of the Lord.

Even butchers, hmm?

I'm not here to join you.

I'm here to settle it then.

Good old George.

But enough about the people.

I want you to meet my flock.

They're longing to see you.

And so am I.

Please come soon.

Love, George.

No, they do nothing for the lashes.

But they do wonders for the wool. Just look at Wool -Eyes. He eats nothing but

dandelions. Oh, so is that what these are.

Okay. We should save some of those dandelions for Sebastian. He's been gone

days. Who cares?

Ever since George brought him here from who knows where, he keeps wandering off

into that town.

Let's let him go hungry.

Just because he doesn't care about us doesn't mean we shouldn't care about

Sebastian's part of our flock.

I always love the way he smells.

It's his woman's sweater.

Mmm, they're so beautifully bad.

Can I come in?

I'm coming in.

He's so new and beautiful and young in him.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

I want to bash him. I want to bash him so bad.

Reggie? Ronnie?

We've been over this. We don't bash things unless...

There you go.

This is Caleb's third visit this month.

There's only one thing they could be talking about in there.

Combining flocks.

Combining flocks. New sheep.

New fields.

I am thinking about it. I gave you a chance and you lied to me, Caleb.

Don't come back.

We won't be combining fucks then.

I felt so happy, and now I feel sad and upset.

I want to forget this happened.

You're right. It's too disappointing. Okay, everyone, we will choose to forget

Caleb's entire visit on the count of three.

One, two... But what about Mopple?

He can't forget things.

Why not?

Poor Mopple.

He was born with a terrible affliction, unlike the rest of us.

He cannot choose to forget things.

Oh, yeah.

Marple, once we've forgotten, please do not remind us that this happened.

Are you sure, though? It really wasn't that bad.

No, but it wasn't that good either, so why bother?

Ready? One.

No, they do nothing for the lashes, but they do wonderful in the world.

I promise.

Yes.

I don't know.

Well, because I was hoping things would be different soon.

You don't have to worry.

You'll be okay.

Not much post for Monday, just bills and junk.

George, who's he sending letters to?

Well, I shouldn't say anything, but a Miss Rebecca Hampstead in America.

Whoever she is, they've been mailing back and forth for months now.

And, go on, smell it.

Rose -scented paper.

They're love letters.

Can you believe it?

Grouchy pants, George Hardy.

A corny old romantic.

Who knew?

Corny John.

Yeah.

Take care. Yes, you too. Bye.

Hello. Hi.

I'm just in from the city for the Denver Cultural Festival.

Oh, fantastic.

This is it.

Follow me.

This is what?

Welcome to the Denver Cultural Festival.

Your job.

What? This is our town's heritage.

What?

What is Return to Oz?

Yeah, that's the best film ever made.

And they shot it just 40 miles down the road.

Most people agree it's better than the original.

Never seen it.

Who hasn't seen Return to Oz? Okay, I'm sorry. Why would you make a huge banner

for this?

I want people to come. Hardly a festival without people.

Oh, no, it's not.

festival at all. No. It's just a system table.

Are you telling me how to run my business?

No.

You're right. I'm sorry.

Got off on the wrong foot there.

My name is Elliot Matthews.

I'm a reporter for BiggerJab.

I walk on the industry deck.

But I've been looking for a real story for so long and my... My features editor

gave me this. The Denbrook Cultural Festival.

So? Sounds like a dream.

That's pretty cool. I'm not going to get a promotion writing about this, am I?

No. Too bad.

Ten. Cash.

For what?

Admission fee. Admission fee?

Oh.

nighttime story.

He should have come out by now.

Oh,

that sounded nothing to be frightened of.

Sir Ridgefield?

Yes, it's fine, you wittle little lamb, for this is the way of things.

All those clouds were once sheep, just like you and me, and when they see the

ground has become too dry, they begin to dance.

Big booming noises as they kick the rain out of the sky to make the grass and

clover grow.

Did all sheep become clouds?

Yes, Pickle. All of us. I'll become a cloud one day, just like my parents did

before me.

Even though, for some reason, I can't remember what it was like when my

turned into clouds.

Mopple, you remember everything.

That day must have been wonderful, right?

Well, yes, of course.

They said goodbye and joyously floated off into the sky, becoming two

fluffy clouds looking down upon us all.

With love.

Forever.

Just as it should be.

Yes.

Everything is just as it should be.

On the bright side, you picked the perfect time to wind up here.

It's the Denbrook Cultural Festival!

You're lucky, Finn!

Well, I went last weekend with my sister.

Oh, that's nice.

That's much better than anything.

Fine, then.

Did you see that?

See what?

I've asked you a number of times not to do this.

We forgot.

We forgot.

Of course you did.

Wait for me. Slow down.

Ready?

What are you...

he's not playing a game well then what's he doing uh

billy he's he's dead

george is dead what what do you mean dead

that's not real that's within course

Will he turn into a cloud?

No.

Only she'd do that.

Dead? Dead?

That's a real thing?

It appears so.

Does that mean sheep can die?

No, Pickles. We turn into clouds.

George can't be dead. I need my medicine.

I am off.

What's off?

This is off.

I don't think any of you understand what I'm saying.

George is gone.

He's never coming back.

But George was a shepherd.

What will we do?

Yes, you're the smartest sheep in the world, Lily. Tell us what to do.

There's only one thing we can do.

We have to forget George.

What? But, Lily, it's George.

We can't just move... Remembering him hurts too much. I can't do it. She's

right. Sheep are not meant to feel such things. We must choose to forget.

On the count of three.

But hold on.

One.

No, no, no, please don't. It's George.

You... You'll forget nothing.

Sebastian. Did you really think that I would let you forget my shepherd so

easily? He was our shepherd, Sebastian. We all loved him. It's too painful to

bear. And we're going to forget.

No, you won't.

You'll remember him because it's right.

Because it's just.

Just what?

No, nothing.

I mean justice.

Justice.

Justice. It means the good should not be harmed by the bad. The weak should not

be harmed by the strong. And a friend should never be forgotten.

George showed me justice once.

He deserved it in return.

It's true. George was always so kind to me.

To all of you. It's why he raised you only for your wool. Why else would

raise sheep? No other reason, just the wool, only the lovely wool.

Oh, I have a question.

What's the meaning of human life if it can all just end one day in the blink of

an eye?

In fact, why are humans here at all? And who made them? And who made us? And

what's inside a tree? And where does the moon go during the day? And why was

George murdered?

Murdered? What do you mean, murdered?

In the nighttime stories, the dead people are always murdered.

No, no, Zora. Those are all pretense. This is real.

Isn't that right, Lily?

Yes, exactly. There's no reason to think that George was... His hat.

I came by to have you sign some papers.

You'll find them like this.

Do you like to say a few words? No.

Caleb?

What's the butcher doing here?

Five.

Six.

He wants the sheep.

George's hat and raincoat.

What hat and raincoat?

Exactly. He came out in a storm. Why didn't he put them on?

A flag.

Don't wake me up.

What?

I said I wish I could forget this.

Do you see anything?

I'm sorry, what are you still doing in town? Car trouble. Who's this?

Name's George Hardy. He's Shepard.

What happened?

Probably a heart attack.

Not much of a story for you, I'm afraid.

Unless there's anything out of the ordinary, right?

Nope. I've looked everywhere.

Around the caravan.

Underneath the caravan.

What about inside the caravan?

Worth a shot?

Oh, maybe a point, dude.

What?

Fingerprint, innit?

Right.

Horrendous.

Yeah.

Well, all looks in order.

Hang on, hang on.

Why would a man having a heart attack just get up and walk outside?

Probably outside when it happened. No, no, it happened here.

Not this chair room.

And he wasn't alone.

He wasn't alone.

Come on, mate.

It was a heart attack. It means to me that you're willfully ignoring the fact

there is evidence to suggest otherwise.

What are you saying?

That I'm scared is a murder.

Are you?

Please, I wish there was a murder in Denbrook. I wish there was a murder a

Nothing would make me happier.

Look, I know you need a story for your big newspaper career, but I'm sorry.

George Hardy was not murdered.

George Hardy was murdered.

The policeman said it was murder.

No, the policeman said it was a heart attack, but he's wrong.

Ah, so it's not really a murder. It's just a wild guess made by a barnyard

animal.

Okay.

George was visited by someone he knew well enough to offer a drink. He then

sick. The failure of his guess to alert anyone suggests that they were

responsible, and the lack of visible injury suggests poison.

The grassy green stain on his hand points to a struggle.

The killer escaped.

George succumbed to the poison and died.

I never guess.

The policeman is completely hopeless the way they always are in the nighttime

stories. That's why someone else has to come along and solve the crime.

Who?

George Fenton.

George cared for us.

George loved us.

We owe him everything. Everything. What are you saying?

Our shepherd has been murdered and we shall solve the crime.

What's so funny?

To start with, your sheep.

He's talking about you. You all think you're smart enough to solve a crime. Do

you know what humans call stupid? Stupid people who can't think for themselves.

Stop! Sheep! And you, the smartest sheep in the world.

Where have you been in the world? Over here and over there?

Please, just go back to your hay and your dandelions and your naps and leave

murder case to the humans.

So, shall we begin?

Look for clues.

Don't disturb... evidence and no eating the crime scene

guys i may be inside a clue oh

gosh okay let's just forget about the clues did anyone see

anything the night of the murder i did

I did it. I went in a door I don't fit through, sat in a chair that won't hold

me, and I killed my own shepherd for no reason by delicately squeezing droplets

of poison into his glass.

Using this.

Did any of you see any people?

No,

you didn't.

Please, Winter Lamb, this is not the time.

Bells? But there were bells two days ago.

They use the bells to call town gatherings.

This is about George.

Of course.

In the nighttime stories, there's always a gathering to announce the murder. And

the killer is always among them. We need to be there.

You think you're brave enough to leave home? None of you have ever left this

meadow. Your hooves have never touched anything but grass.

What's so hard about leaving home?

We're not scared.

Mama, what is that?

I think it's a road.

But what is it made of? Well, not grass, I can tell you that. Lily?

Yes? Are you coming?

I'm just, um... You go on ahead.

Why are you yelling?

I'm only a few feet away from you.

But it feels so far.

All you have to do is cross the road.

No.

No, I can't. It's impossible.

It's not your fault.

We are who we are.

Maybe if you and I cross together.

For George?

For George.

Together.

We can do things.

In fact, we can do anything.

Just two more miles to go.

Not a problem.

And how many miles was that?

I'll admit, I'm impressed.

You won't solve the mystery. But at least we're seeing a bit of the world.

Of course I'll solve the mystery.

I'll solve it by tonight.

Sure, Trina, dozens of these nighttime stories.

They follow very simple rules.

Moffle?

Huh? Oh, one. The killer always returns to the scene of the crime.

Two. The police always think a drifter did it. Oh, they're always going on

a drifter. Three. An unexpected person arrives and changes everything.

Four. The victim is the most important clue.

Well, that is simple. But you'll find the real world is a bit more complicated

than a book.

Speaking of...

Welcome to Denbrook.

What is this?

This is the church where someone named God lives.

Who's God?

It's a bit confusing.

God is a shepherd.

So he could be our shepherd?

No. Because he's also a lamb.

What? And he's also invisible.

And he's made of bread.

And he damns things.

Damns things? Like a beaver?

Yes. So God is a big invisible lamb beaver made of bread?

Yes. And to eat him on Sundays.

Poor God.

I know I was promised to be back, but I may have stumbled upon my first moon

helmet. It's a mystery.

I've got to go.

I've got to go.

Come on. They won't see us from here. They already see you, and nobody cares.

For the 100th time, you're sheep.

It is ends of Denbrook.

I know there are rumors that George Harvey's death was suspicious.

But I'm not allowed to comment on the poisoning until the investigation has...

Wait, George was murdered?

Oh, crap.

I'm sorry, what kind of poison?

Look, George was poisoned by something called taxi, found in the berries of the

yew tree.

What are these trees? Do they grow around here?

Right there.

Then it was one of us who killed him. No, no, no, no!

Please, it was almost certainly a drifter.

What's with them?

I am that person. Lydia Harbottle?

Harbottle and Bloom?

We spoke earlier, I am the late George Hardy's lawyer.

Right, and you are?

I'm Rebecca Hempstead.

I'm George's daughter.

An unexpected person arrives and changes everything.

That's your phone number right there at the bottom of the page.

That's why I knew to call you.

I'm always detecting.

You're not a detective, though, are you?

I know, but... But you found this document sitting out in the open on a

a miniscule caravan. That's just noticing, isn't it?

Well... So you noticed this document the second time you went to Mr.

Hardy's caravan.

That's right. So I had to go back there.

Give the scene a good searching.

I put up the police tape.

Tickier than I expected.

Don't care, nor would anyone ever. Have you read it?

Have you even looked at it?

No. Not my business.

It's very specifically yours.

I'll do a reading of the will later this afternoon. Following people are named,

so do make sure that they are present.

Reverend Hillcote, Caleb Merrow, write this down.

The Reverend Hillcote, Caleb Merrow, Beth... Pennock, Ham Gilead, Taylor

and Rebecca Hampstead.

I'll be staying at the Partridge Inn.

We'll do the reading there at 5 p .m. shop.

5 p .m.? 1700.

No.

I told you, Rebecca lives in America, and yet here she is.

In Denbrook, on the very day you told me that her father was dead, meaning that

she was already in this country the night he was killed, but you didn't pick

on that, did you?

Yeah.

No, yeah, of course I did.

This is your first murder, isn't it?

What?

You think I killed him?

Oh, oh.

Yeah, you mean my first murder case.

Come on, it's all on your shoulders now, Officer Derry.

I'll see you at five.

See you at five, Miss Harvod.

Madam Harvod.

We have to get to that will reading.

This is the Partridge Inn.

I eat flowers here sometimes, although I don't know how any of this is meant to

matter. In the nighttime stories, there's always a will, and the people in

will are always the suspects.

Oh, I need to see the faces. Why? Because humans often lie, and you can

it in their eyes.

Exactly.

Mom, while we work on the window, look around and see if there's a better one.

On it.

Shall we?

What do you know about your birth mother?

In his letters, he said that she died giving birth to me.

And that he was very young and very scared and very poor.

And he put me up for adoption.

By the church, actually.

I have a question as well.

Sorry, mate.

Nice to see you.

I just realised, all by myself, that you couldn't have got here today

from America, right? Which means you were already in this country last night

when George was murdered.

I'm not accusing you or anything, but that's not right.

That's so smart, Detective.

I'm not a detective.

It's an officer who...

is always detecting well i uh i uh i was in this country but i

i've never been to denver until today follow -up question do you have a

boyfriend oh that's the standard question any investigator would

ask in this situation uh so funny you asked that we just uh we just broke up

no

Do you see what I see?

The daughter. Her face is happy.

But her eyes are scared.

So what time did you arrive last night back here?

I got in around 7 p .m. and... I'm sorry.

That's all right. I was supposed to meet him today and I'm just... It's all

right. I'm so overwhelmed.

Come on. Thank you.

Come on. Thank you.

It's okay. Thank you so much.

Window, window, window. If I was a window, where would I go?

Vegetable. Hello.

Just a little... He

also told me that I have a brother, a twin, actually,

who was sent to South Africa, I think.

A South African twin? You've never met this?

Is it gold?

And who are you?

I'm Elliot Matthews.

Well, actually, it's a chandelier. I have it. Absolutely no rights

Get out.

What? And no lurking.

I'll be in the presidential suite.

Fasting Northern, luxurious amenities.

Mr.

Van Buren, this is Lydia Harbottle. Can you hear me?

Yeah, very good connection. Thank you. Mr. Van Buren is Mr.

Hardy's son, and he lives in South Africa, hence is joining us by phone.

Now, Mr. Hardy sent me a copy of his will some two months ago.

But this is not the will that I shall be reading today.

He wrote a new will.

I found that.

Shush. Dated three days before his death. Of course.

There is always a new will.

testament of mr george hardy i have gathered the seven of you here because i

have unfinished business with each of you i have done wrong to some of you and

some of you have done wrong to me among you now in this very room is

a fool a bad shepherd a spring lamb a winter lamb

a victim

According to me, a mad shepherd. How am I supposed to figure that out? Well, at

least we know who the foal is. And what's this about another victim?

So one of us is next.

One of us is next.

Two murders.

A winter lamb.

This is what I leave to you. Hey, hey!

This is what I leave to you.

The knowledge that I saw you for who you really were, and for most of you,

that's all you're getting.

What does he mean, that's all we're getting? What am I doing here, then?

Sit down and shut up, Ham.

I will not.

No, that's the next line in the will. Sit down and shut up, Ham.

Seems George knew you pretty well.

I have some cloth about you. Shut your face. You shut up. To my son, Peter Van

Buren. the 300 acres currently leased to Caleb Merrow. Oh, that's very kind.

To my daughter, Rebecca Hampstead, the adjoining 300 acres, which I call home,

including my caravan, my barn, their contents, and my sleep.

Now, in the prior will, Mr. Hardy left the remainder of his assets to a

the Society for the Protection of Animals.

will, however, this paragraph reads as follows.

I bequeath the remainder of my assets to my daughter, Rebecca Hampstead.

You don't get too excited.

The man had nothing.

Well, actually, there is one non -operational muck spreader, three pre

-purchased bags of fertilizer, very useful, and one money market account in

sum of approximately 30 million dollars.

So, we have our motive.

£30 million?

Two years ago, George Hardy created a remedy for a sheep disease.

Now it's off.

Off? Off.

So you're telling me that blue coop he was always mixing up, that was medicine?

He sold the patent to a large agricultural corporation for the sum

million?

For off?

People keep running the mock if they don't have a shepherd, all right?

Especially that big one.

It's always growing from a carnival.

It's practically wild.

Wait, Tim.

Would you like to make a statement?

No, no, no comment, and call me officer.

What about, what about leads?

Do you have any leads? Yeah, yeah, I have a ton of leads, and I'm completely

top of this.

Look.

I need a story.

You need the rest.

Wouldn't it be nice to just have the respect for once?

Thanks. People respect me.

If you solve this, you would be a hero.

We could work together.

I could help.

Last night, when my car was getting towed, I saw a flashlight around 9pm

George's Field.

The coroner said George died between 8 and 11.

You took pictures of the body, right? Because I really should have done that.

took so many pictures.

I'll send them all to you.

What do you say?

I'm a hero.

And then she said, a fool, a victim, two murderers.

I don't think it's the maid. There is no maid.

That was a story, and even in the story, it wasn't the maid. No more maids.

Ah, sheep.

Caleb will be our new shepherd, won't he, Lily?

Of course. We just need to wait for the mystery to be solved.

I have a question.

Why haven't you solved the mystery yet, Lily? You solved them in the nighttime

stories right away.

I know, but the real world is a bit more complicated than a book.

I just need to get inside George's trailer and look.

Is that Rebecca?

What is she looking for?

What's your name?

That's George's daughter?

She smells like him, but she doesn't look like him.

I'll bet she was born in winter.

That's why George didn't want her around.

Of course!

A winter lamb, that proves it.

Rebecca did it!

Murderer! We don't know that.

That's what I've been trying to say. I said it right from the beginning.

Sebastian?

Lily? You were saying something about George's trailer and the book?

All right. The last book George read to us was all about how to narrow down a

suspect. I need to find that problem and bring it to the policeman.

If we're lucky, he'll read it and learn something.

Oh, oh, let me, let me, let me. No, no, Zora. I want to be the detective.

Let me.

Well, all right. I just need you to find the book George has started reading to

us with the chapter on means, motive, and opportunity.

I have a question.

What's a chapter? It doesn't matter. Just find the book with the train on the

cover. I have a question.

What's a train?

It's a long, skinny line of trailers.

I have a question. Wait a minute, Wool -Eyes. What are you doing?

Stand back, everyone. I'll find this book using my keen sense of smell.

Oh, here's some tobacco.

You can have that.

Come on, Wool -Eyes. Everyone's counting on you.

No, we're not.

Is this what you're looking for?

No. All right.

What about this?

That's it.

Woman, you found it.

Of course I did.

Lily, I expect, is it? I am, after all, a sleep detective.

Oh!

It's nice up here, but a bit lonely.

I gave a book to the policeman to help him solve the case.

What's a carnival?

It's nothing.

Go back to your flock.

It's music.

A carnival is music and rides.

Every day children would come and pet me and feed me.

I loved that until I grew too big.

And then when night fell, the men from the carnival would come and lead me into

a circle.

circle was a dog and they would make me fight

fight until i bled

then one night he found me

He paid them and took me away.

And that's what a carnival is.

But how did you even end up in such a terrible place? Why weren't you with

flock?

I thought Lily, the great sheep detective, would have figured that out

So you were Winter. Sooner or later.

A winter lamb wants to leave.

There he is!

Yes!

Oh,

I hope you're holding him.

Are we?

You've lost it.

You've lost it and you've done nothing. Not quite nothing.

Who killed George?

Five dust bags named in the will. Whoever killed George needed three

Mean, motive, opportunity.

He read the book.

Let's make them one by one, shall we?

Mean.

Taxing from the barriers of a U -tree. We've got U -trees all over the church

grounds. Everyone has a meme.

Motive. Why kill George?

Rebecca's got the clearest motive, but any of the others could have a reason.

What are they hiding?

Opportunity. Do any of these people have an alibi?

Meme. Motive.

Opportunity. Find the one with all three and catch the Denver Hoyer.

This is actually really good.

Yeah, well, it just came to me in the night.

Okay, let's get started.

And which one are you from, George's Will?

Probably the murderer.

He was a vegetarian.

I can forgive that in a woman, but in a man, it's just death.

George's letter to Rebecca.

Why did you have it?

Maybe the Postal Service made a mistake for the first time in history.

And the day before George died, you told me you could kill that man. I'm not the

killer. I'm the victim. And that's all I'm saying. I know my wife.

Hey, and the morning you found George, you told me you were bringing him some

papers. Yeah, he just cancelled my lease.

You know, I was bringing him a proposal for reconsider.

Not much for that.

Hold on.

George cancelled your lease?

Why?

You heard the will?

Apparently I'm a bad shepherd.

Steel coat.

George never set foot in your church, and suddenly he walks in on the day

he dies and makes a large donation.

Why? Why am I always on the bottom?

George came to me a while ago and told me about the church putting his children

up for adoption.

But as soon as he got back on his feet, he started searching for them.

The church wouldn't tell him where they were.

Strict policy, apparently.

And so he asked what it would take for me to get the information

for him. And if the church found out, I could have been defrocked. Yeah, that

means fired.

Mm -hmm. But that money was never for me. The church had been done. I needed

prepare.

George came to me in need.

And I took advantage.

Caleb is not the bird shepherd.

I am.

Radek. Miss Anstead.

Enjoying the Denbrook Cultural Festival?

Yeah.

Very much so.

Easy, easy questions.

Where were you between the hours of 8 and 11 on the night of the murder?

At the hotel, near the airport. I checked in and then was watching TV.

Couldn't sleep.

Jet lag, you know.

What were you watching?

24 -hour news, Shannon.

All right, that answers that.

Have a lovely day, Miss Hampstead. You too.

Bye.

Or should I say Miss Cramp?

Chastity Cramp is your real name, isn't it?

And could you think of any reason why someone would want to change their name

from Chastity Cramp? Fair enough. But I did run a background check, and it turns

out at one point...

You were associating with a known criminal.

Multiple counts of forgery.

He even shared a bank account with him.

Okay, I don't know anyone who doesn't regret a relationship, and I didn't even

know, and it was three years ago. Right. So not a recent breakup, then?

Not a real name.

A bit of a pattern. A bit of a pattern emerging here.

So, tell me, have you ever been near the yew tree on the church grounds?

No, absolutely not.

And what about George's farm?

Ever been there?

Never.

Hey, look at the leaves.

Oh, then that's it. Why is Rebecca lying?

What's a vegetarian?

How does it all fit?

Think, you stupid sheep. Think!

Stop thinking so hard, Lily. The daughter clearly did it.

She's right.

No one loves a winter lamb. One winter lamb sticking up for another.

That's how it is with them. Wait.

What did you say?

I said George loves me.

No. Before that, you said Rebecca smells just like George.

Someone said that before.

No, but she has been keeping a secret.

Haven't you, Clown?

Last night you said Rebecca smelled just like George, but she was so far away.

You couldn't have known what she smelled like unless Rebecca had been here

before.

But it's so beautiful.

Why is it so beautiful?

The thing with no end.

It's so beautiful, and it just never ends.

I've looked at it for hours, going around and around and around.

Cloud! Cloud!

Where did you get this?

Rebecca was here that night.

The night George was killed.

I woke up, and I felt hungry, so I wandered into the meadow, and there she

And she saw me, and she said, Aren't you pretty? Because I am. I mean, I am the

most beautiful.

And she stroked my wool, and the things flipped off. So I decided that

it should be mine.

So we're having things now.

Sheep don't have things.

I know, but it has no end.

And so it's solved.

Rebecca did it.

A bit of shiny metal doesn't solve anything.

Of course it does. It's evidence.

Evidence?

Evidence of what?

She told the policeman she'd never been here. But she was here last night. And

the very night George was murdered.

She's a liar. She's a fake.

And she's a win... She's a what?

Say it.

You've hated her from the start. All of you.

Because she happened to be born in winter.

The worst crime imaginable.

Haven't you heard?

No one wants you. You deserve nothing.

That's what a winter lamb hears over and over until one day he starts to believe

it's true.

Sebastian. She didn't do it. But how do you know?

Because I looked in her eyes.

Because it's obvious.

But not to you.

No.

Not to some flock of sheep.

We're your flock of sheep.

I told you.

I don't have a flock.

I never have.

Lily.

What should we do about the thing with no end?

Of course.

The chauffeur.

What?

What?

Hey!

Come on. Hey!

Hey!

Get back here!

Thanks for this.

Thank you all.

I think I

found something of yours.

Perhaps it's your other ones.

I found it in George's Meadow.

You know, where you've never been before.

I have a warrant to search your room.

What are you looking for? I don't know.

Never been near the uterus, eh?

I knew it. I haven't. I wouldn't. Tim, Tim, you have to believe me. Officer

Gary.

Terry, I swear to you, I didn't kill my father.

Rebecca Hampstead, you're under arrest for the murder of George Hardy.

Suspect interviewed Chastity Kramp, a .k .a.

Rebecca Hampstead.

Miss Kramp, will you confirm you're waiving your right to have a lawyer

Yes. I don't care.

I'm ready to tell you everything.

Right. Then let's start with this.

Were you on George Hardy's property on the night of his murder?

Yes.

All right. So all those pretty smiles and, oh, you're very smart, detective.

That's all been an act, hasn't it?

The fact is you haven't said a single true thing since you showed up.

The letters, that part was true.

He wrote that he had been looking for me for over 20 years and he was...

Starting to get things in order.

And he even sent me a copy of his will. The will where you get 30 million or the

will where you get a bunch of creeps? No, the one without the money.

He said that he wanted to meet me.

So, he's flying.

And then you drive to his farm on the night of the murder.

And then what happened?

We talked.

About what?

Sheep. We talked about sheep and their names. He said every

sheep should have a name. And he picked each one by looking in their eyes.

And he wanted me to have them someday.

He picked me.

But look, I'm not stupid.

I was alone with him the night that he was murdered. And the new will and all

that money.

and everything that's happened in my past, my only choice was to lie.

You have to believe me.

I lied, so believe me.

Is that right?

In the morning, you'll be taken to the county court and officially charged with

the willful murder of George Harvey.

It was her.

Annie, what people won't do.

Apparently George Hardy picked the wrong lamb.

Oh, speaking of which, Van Buren has agreed to sell his sheep and land to

Merrow, so he'll do the paperwork for that tomorrow at noon.

Good.

I misjudged you, officer.

I did.

It seems you're not the fool, after all.

What are you doing out here?

Are you okay?

Yes, I'm more than okay. I'm happy. They arrested Rebecca.

Tomorrow, Caleb will become our new shepherd.

That's wonderful.

She denies it all, of course, but I'm right and Sebastian's wrong.

Rebecca did do it, right?

Of course she did it.

Thank you.

Because you said she did it.

What? Well, you always figure out how the stories end before they end.

I trust you. But those were just stories.

This is a real person.

What if I'm... Lily, look.

Caleb's Meadow is just on the other side of that fence.

Why don't we go over and meet our new flock?

But we've never gone into Caleb's Meadow before.

Well, we never used the crossroads before either.

Come on.

like we're in a cloud.

Do you think we're in the wrong place?

I don't think so.

Hello?

And this is Mopple.

We're from the other part of the meadow.

Caleb's going to be our shepherd, too.

What?

What?

I don't know.

Maybe we shouldn't have come over here, actually.

We should go.

Uh, okay.

Which way is back?

I think over there.

Look, there's a light.

This must be Caleb's barn.

We'll be safe in here.

Maybe we should... Wait.

What is that?

Lily, don't. Let's go.

Why is that sheep like that?

What are they doing to them?

Caleb? Oh,

hello, doggies.

What's wrong with him?

We're not supposed to be here.

He's dying.

What?

No, she don't die.

We turn into clouds.

Turn into a cloud, Sebastian. Turn into a cloud.

I wish I could.

You shouldn't have come back.

Why did you come back?

is dead.

You said we're turning to clouds.

I was wrong.

We die.

I saw Sebastian die.

And if we don't leave tonight, we're all going to die too.

Caleb turned sheep into food. Stop it!

Stop saying these awful things!

I'm forgetting this happened right now.

No, you can't. Why?

Why would I want to remember something so terrible?

Because it's true.

It's not true if I don't remember.

One. Wait.

Two. Ronnie, Betty, please.

Please. Three.

Oh, hello, Lily.

I have a question.

What are we doing out here?

I don't like it. Back to the meadow. Back to the meadow?

No.

Don't. Please don't.

Imagine what's right about us.

We're just stupid.

You've carried this all alone?

All this time?

Yes. I remember every bad thing.

But I remember good things too.

I remember my mother's face.

I remember old friends and how they loved me.

And you will remember Sebastian.

It hurts.

Remembering hurts.

But if you forget, you can't save the others, and Sebastian will have died for

nothing.

Caleb will come for you tomorrow, and you will follow your new shepherd, just

like the other stupid, frightened sheep.

And we'll all die.

I'm sorry.

Silly, I am.

But it's our memory that keeps the ones we love alive.

Are you really here?

Of course I am.

Because you didn't forget me. See how that works?

Well, yes, but it doesn't matter anymore. Caleb is... Caleb isn't going

anything to my flock because you're going to save them.

But how?

You already know how.

If you figure out who really did it, Lily, Rebecca will get the flock and

all be safe.

But what if I don't know who really did it?

Honestly. I've read you dozens of these stories. They follow very simple rules.

But the rules haven't helped.

The police know it wasn't a drifter. Anyone could have returned to the scene

the crime. Rebecca was the unexpected person and... And?

The victim is the most important clue.

Atta girl.

Rebecca didn't do it. Lily, slow down. I know who did. And if I can prove it.

Prove what? It wasn't a grass stain. And how am I supposed to? Wait, wait, wait.

I'm left.

Yes. Oh, but I'm too big. I can't fit.

leg in.

Now put your other leg into that one.

This is such a weird town.

Do you think this will work?

I don't know.

All we can do is wait.

What did George say to you the morning before he died?

I saw him whisper something in your ear.

He said, the winter lamb is the best lamb.

Yeah? Do you ever get the feeling like you've forgotten something?

You mean something that Lily tried to tell us last night but then we chose to

forget it because we were, you know, scared?

Well, not scared, definitely not scared, but yeah, that's it.

What should we do, brother?

I have no idea, but we can't do nothing, so we've got to do something.

That's genius.

Well, come on then. Are we lame or are we rare?

Who did this?

A lamb came in through the transom. A lamb came in through the transom? I

that's worse.

It can't get worse than a transom lamb.

I'm pretty sure the lamb was taking orders from another sheep.

Right.

What does it mean?

nothing for sheep

It didn't work.

Officer Derry.

She didn't do it.

She didn't do it.

But I know who did.

I know who killed George Hardy.

Mrs. Harbuckle.

No, no, no. It turns out I was the fool.

But maybe not anymore.

From the moment Rebecca Hampstead arrived in Denbrook, she was the prime

suspect. She had the strongest motive.

Plus, she lied.

He was at George's farm on the night of the murder. Exactly what the killer was

counting on. A killer we never considered. Because they weren't even a

The only person named in George's will who had an alibi.

A perfect alibi.

A not -even -in -the -country alibi.

You don't mean... Yes.

Peter Van Buren of South Africa. Rebecca, you said George sent you a copy

will. But I'm betting he also sent one to your brother.

who did some digging and found out what George was really worth and decided he

was going to get that 30 million even if he had to kill for it.

But he had one massive problem.

Motive! I wanted to say that. Well, you just made it seem like I was a murderer.

Motive! If a murder victim leaves you a fortune in his will, then you're the

prime suspect.

But if he leaves it to your sister, And she goes down for the crime.

The money automatically goes to the next of kin. Would you please? I'm having a

moment here.

I'm sorry.

The next of kin.

The only question left is where is he hiding?

Who am I looking for?

Someone hiding in plain sight.

Someone who changed his name.

For example, Chastity Cramps became Rebecca Hampstead.

And Peter Van Buren... And Peter Van Buren... Became Elliot

Matthews. So disgusting.

I never give.

Tim, you're embarrassing yourself.

I don't live in South Africa. I live in this country and I work for a newspaper.

I know.

I assume you've been living in this country for some time now as Elliot

Matthews. Putting on an accent.

George told you Rebecca was coming to visit, didn't he?

A perfect opportunity for you to frame her. All you needed was some reason to

come to Denbrook.

Like a cultural festival.

Your plan was simple.

First, make a big show of leaving Denbrook. Then some convenient car

brought you back.

Later that night, after Rebecca left, you did what

you... You

pointed

your heart to me.

You started a new will.

Your father was stronger than you expected.

It was a struggle.

But you won out in the end.

All that was left to do was make sure your sister took the fall.

You were clever.

The day Mrs. Harbottle read the will, you knew she'd kick you out.

As for the yewberries, planting those in Rebecca's room was a stitch.

Small town inn, easy to pick it up.

It was nearly perfect, Elliot, but what you didn't know, and what I didn't

understand until now, is that you left behind a clue.

George's hands.

George's hands.

One was blue, one was green.

The blue made sense. The stuff that made him rich. But green?

Why green?

And then, some friends, some friends who are very good detectives,

made me think.

Blue and yellow. Blue and yellow mixed together make green. Like the

green stain I saw on George's hand. Like the green stain I saw on a blue

pillowcase. at the inn that you slept on the night you murdered george both of

george's hands were stained blue that night from the medication but then he

grabbed someone's hair someone who used a kind of quick cheap yellow hair dye

that runs a little in the rain turning george's hand green someone who hastily

went blonde before coming to denver because he didn't want anyone to think

for a second that he looked too much like his sister or his father.

Isn't that right, Peter?

No.

No, it's nuts and completely unprovable. Then you won't mind if I take

this?

Not at all.

I must admit, I am not a natural blonde.

So I suppose I must also confess that I break my teeth and whack myself.

I bet he's a vegetarian.

Take the other gold.

I'd meet with murder because there's dye in my hair.

She won't be taking me to court. I will be taking you.

You misunderstand.

It's not the dye in your hair I want. It's the DNA.

If you are George Hardy's son, then you are Peter Van Buren.

And you are the real...

Kill them.

There's a legitimate cause for bashing. I can take that.

Entire Denbrook Police Department wants the serious apologies.

Is that, uh, anyone besides you?

No.

I'd like to apologize.

Thanks.

Oh.

Look.

Transom lamb?

Transom lamb.

You'll stick around for a little while.

You know, I just got out of prison, so I might just kind of just need a moment.

I hope you do.

Maybe.

Oh, wait.

I'm sorry.

I saw this.

It was in the mailbag, and... I mean, I didn't know you were his daughter, and I

bought him that rose -scented paper, so... You can imagine.

You were in love with him?

He tried.

But George loved your mother.

There was no place in his heart for someone else.

I used to wonder what she looked like.

But now I don't have to.

I wish I asked him more about her.

I don't even know her name.

Lily.

Of course, the forged will is not valid.

But you will still get his sheep and all his land.

So that's nice.

Sorry to bother you.

See, Ham and I, we've been trying to get this new business going.

You've got a good bank behind us. Yeah. And basically, we want to buy your

father's stolen sheep from you.

Two murderers. Excuse me?

My father found out you were slaughtering sheep on his land.

You're the two murderers.

Well, the two businessmen. They're offering a good price.

Do you even know their names?

Who? He told me their names.

There's Lily.

And Muffle.

And the big puffy one is Cloud. He says she's such a diva. And the one with wool

in his eyes, he named Wool Eyes, which I thought was a bit obvious, but he said,

hey, I've never heard any complaints.

Yeah, look, Miss Hampson. Hardy.

Rebecca Hardy.

I'm changing it.

I don't do name changes.

Sorry, Miss Hardy, but good luck.

Wait.

What if I wanted even more sheep?

Could I get a good bank behind me?

Lily, how did you manage to solve it?

Of course she solved it. She's the smartest sheep in the world.

Oh, well.

I used to think I was, but I'm not.

I made a mistake. I should have listened when the winter lamb said he saw

George's ghost, but instead I...

I have a thousand questions.

Oh, you're great. You did well.

Where is your face?

You have off.

I have off.

It's a commonly held belief that of all farm animals, sheep are by far the

stupidest.

But in fact, that is not true.

Sheep are not only intelligent, but inspirational.

It's nice up here but a bit lonely.

George, that's your name.

Every sheep should have a name.

My name is George.

Hi George!

We're like humans.

They cherish belonging above all.

They allow themselves to belong to us.

And so we find we belong to them.

I mean, where are you from?