All language subtitles for Rosemary.Thyme.S02E06.The Italian Rapscallion.en

-Ooh, this is a bit above and
beyond the call of duty.

-Yeah, well, you don't
have to do it.

-What?

And leave it all to you?

-Darlings, you're
doing wonders.

Sustenance for the workers.

-Oh dear.

But Emma, it is only 10 o'clock
in the morning.

-Oh, a little glass of prosecco
never does any harm.

You need it in this climate.

-How many people are you
planning to seat in this

restaurant, Emma?

-Oh, I don't know, darling.

40 Or 50.

-50?

That's a lot of people
to cook for.

-No.

My dinner parties in Hampstead
were legendary.

-I think you might have a
bit of a problem here.

Uh, you've got hedge, table,
hedge, table, hedge, table, et cetera.

-Yes, so, so, so, each table
is in its own little bar.

-Yes, and they seem to be about
three foot six apart?

-That's the width
of the tables.

I got this divine little
carpenter in pietrabruna.

-Yeah, but, but, where are the
customers going to sit?

-Sit?

Well, on chairs, of course.

-But, Emma, there isn't any
room for the chairs.

-No, the people will be
sitting on the hedges.

-Noo!

-And well now, that's not taking
into account that the

hedges will thicken.

I mean--

-Well, I don't know, darlings.

Change it.

You think of something clever.

There you are.

Fabrizio.

Good morning, Emma.

Good morning ladies.

-Is, uh, Janice here yet?

-Janice?

-Uh, yes.

I ask her to meet me here.

Janice Alexander.

-But, i, i, I don't know
any Janice Alexander.

-Emma, you do.

She's staying with me.

-Oh, yes.

Uh, mousy girl.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Now, who are these beautiful
ladies you have been

concealing from me?

-Isn't he wonderful.

Isn't he just sex on legs?

-Good to meet you.

-Uh, I'm Rosemary Boxer.

-Fabrizio Biaggi.

-And this is, uh, Laura Thyme.

-How do you do?

-They're my landscape artists.

-Oh, is this--

-ah, Janice.

Come and meet my friend.

I'm helping Janice to find a
property here, like, uh, I do

For you, eh?

-Hello.

Well, we haven't agreed
that properly yet.

-But this morning, you shall all
be my guests on a little,

excursion, uh, excursion,
a, uh, a little outing.

Our guide will be the famous
doctor Llewellyn.

-Good morning, ladies and
gentlemen, and welcome.

Bon giorno et benvenuto.

As you probably know, the
palazzo tremonti and its

gardens are part of the
University of San Remo, and I

work here in the--

-I recognize him.

He was at Sittingbourne
for a time.

Apparently, there's some
scandal about he and

a student.

-You don't say?

-That is a wicked
thing to say.

-I'm sorry?

-That so-called scandal was
invented by the trustees

because he was getting
far to popular with

the television programs.

I'm sorry.

-I should know.

He's my father.

-As many of you will know, these
gardens were planned and

planted by an englishman--

Sir edwin pringle.

Sir edwin made his fortune
out of patent

medicines in the 1880s.

He devoted the rest
of his life--

-blimey.

Pringle's pastilles.

-Amazing what you can do
with a cough drop.

-Now, follow me.

Ask as many questions as you
like, and I will endeavor

to answer them.

This is a comparatively
new development.

Work started here in 1963 under
the supervision of the

great mexican horticulturalist
professor Alejandro Zurrizola.

His aim was to reproduce
the harsh beauty of the

Terrahumara, and I must say,
I think he succeeded.

Don't you?

-Now, what, what's that
amazing thing there?

-That is an agave franzosinii.

-Well, I don't care.

I've got to have one for
my new restaurant.

-Unfortunately, it takes
15 to 20 years to

Flower, and then it dies.

-Oh, that's no good
at all, is it?

-Look.

Follow me.

-It must be so exciting
traveling all over the world.

-Oh, hardly.

As permanent undersecretary
one's pretty much

confined to whitehall.

-Weren't you ambassador
to Ecuador?

-No.

No, no, no.

You're thinking of
somebody else.

-I've seen her somewhere
before.

Sure I have.

Something to do with work.

-She doesn't look robust enough
to be a gardener.

-Yeah, no.

Oh, no.

Before that.

-Laura used to be in the
police, you know.

-Yes, these gardens have
quite a history.

That balcony up there is where
Hitler and Franco posed for

photographers in 1939.

-Really?

-The only time they ever met.

-Really.

-You are a woman who likes to
dress elegantly, I know.

And in your line of work--

-I have to look my best?

-Yeah.

Precisely.

Now, uh, I can get you 20%,
30% off everything.

Ferragamo, Versacci,
Armani, Pucci even.

-No one wears Pucci, do they?

-Oh, Pucci's the coming thing.

Ah, Rose Maria, you
need more wine.

-Good prosecco, eh?

Thank you.

It's very, mmm, refreshing.

-Thank you so much.

-Oh, no, no, no, no,
it is my pleasure.

Also I have, uh, interior
motive.

-Do you know them all, then?

-Oh, most of them.

I hadn't met the two
girls Emma Standish

brought along before.

-Sir Basil seems like
a nice man.

-Oh, he's charming.

Used to work at the foreign
office, you know.

They've only been here
for a year or so.

Paid over the odds
for his house.

Through Fabrizio, of course.

-Is Fabrizio a bit of
a chancer, then?

-I wouldn't say that.

He has his fingers in
innumerable pies, though.

-Of course, I produce
mainly studio work.

-Uh, studio?

-Not your everyday pots.

You want to eat your
cornflakes out of

a ming bowl, would you?

-I don't know.

Does he make big ones?

Rosemary, Gloria's been telling
me all about her pots.

-Ah, that's nice.

-I had a little, uh, exhibition

In Genoa last month.

-How exciting.

-Of course, the genovese aren't
exactly famous for

their artistic appreciation.

Now, I'm having a huge party
on opening night.

You must come.

Bring your wife.

-I don't have such a
thing, I'm afraid.

Well, I have, but I haven't seen
her for, oh, 20 years.

Or my daughter.

Well, come by yourself, then.

We'll soon find you someone.

-Janice, uh, I want to
show you something.

Scusi.

-Did you see that?

-I thought it was
the prosecco.

Does do something
to your eyes.

Was it my imagination,
or did Janice try

to nick Sir Basil's wallet?

-Maybe.

-What do you mean, maybe?

-I know where I've
seen her before.

Janice was in the cid
at denmark road

when Nick was there.

She could be here on a job.

-No, she's here to
live, isn't she?

-So she says.

-Hi.

So do you live here.

-I moved here two years ago.

I've never got tired of it.

Just look.

You can grow anything here.

I mean, what is that beautiful
purple plant?

-That's a, that's
an artichoke.

-Artichoke.

-Cynara scolymus.

One of the purple varieties.

-I think I better leave the
horticulture to you.

-I think so.

-I don't like to speak ill of
the dead, but Janice did try

To steal your wallet.

-You didn't tell me.

-I couldn't believe my eyes.

-Did she look inside
the wallet?

-No.

No, no.

She didn't actually get
her hands on it.

-We saw it too, and then she
went off with Fabrizio.

-Suddenly I feel I feel
rather sober.

The police
are pretty quick off

the mark here.

Put handcuffs on Fabrizio.

Haven't had time to
ask any questions.

-Permit me, grazi.

-I can't believe Fabrizio's
a murderer.

-Oh, you know lots of
murderers, do you?

-But why would he kill her, just
after she'd stopped her

stealing Sir Basil's wallet?

-Maybe they had a fight.

-I don't think so.

She was hit on the
back of the head.

There was a lump of rock lying
beside her that looked like

the murder weapon.

-Fabrizio Biaggi is known
to us for petty

theft and small frauds.

-Yes, but that doesn't
mean he's a murderer.

-The victim's handbag
is missing.

We believe he has--

nascondere.

Uh, what's the word?

Stashed?

Yes.

Stashed it in the garden
somewhere to

be collected later.

-I'm sorry.

But I think if anyone was
behaving like a thief, it was

Janice Alexander.

-Janice Alexander was a police
detective in England.

Maybe she was one still.

-How do you know that?

-Because I used to be in the
police myself in England.

So was my husband.

Janice was a detective
at the same station.

-Darling, the truth is any one
of us could have done it.

-No one knows the girl.

Nobody's got a motive.

What did they say to you?

-Same as they said to everyone
else, I presume.

-I was just saying any one
of us could have done it.

I mean, we none of us really
have an alibi.

And we're all a bit squiffy
after all that wine.

-You may all go to
your houses now.

We'll be in touch.

-It's possible sexual jealousy
comes into it.

Someone seeing Janice and
Fabrizio going off into

the woods together, him patting
her bottom.

-Oh, he's never done
that to me.

-There you are.

You see?

-Green-eyed monster.

God, I've dribbled the
milk everywhere.

-Oh, darling, it's
that blasted jug.

One of Gloria gable's
masterpieces.

Why anyone buys the things,
I can't imagine.

-So, people do buy
them, do they?

-Well, they must do.

She had a tough time in
the beginning, though.

She was nearly thrown
out of her house

for not paying the rent.

But since about a year ago she
seems to be making money.

Now listen.

Call me a melodramatic idiot if
you like, but I happen to

know something the
police don't.

-What?

-Well, Sir Basil Slavinski
has a daughter.

-And?

-They haven't seen each
other for 20 years.

-Am I missing something here?

-You don't get it, do you?

Janice is his long
lost daughter.

She searched for him
high and low.

She finds him.

She reveals to him who she is.

-And then he hits her over
the head with a rock.

-Exactly.

-Why would he do that, Emma?

-Well, you can't expect me to
fill in every last detail.

I mean, who knows how a man
reacts when he's confronted by

a long lost relative?

You know what men are like.

-What do you suppose Janice
was looking for

in Sir Basil's wallet?

Assuming it wasn't just cash, or
credit cards, or whatever.

-Well, perhas sewur
invesira gubattle.

-What?

-Perhaps she was investigating
Sir Basil.

-Hmm, what for?

-Oh, I don't know.

Something not quite kosher
about him, isn't there?

Oh, I don't know.

He seemed all right to me.

Typical sort of retired
civil servant.

-Yeah, well, that's the thing.

A little bit too typical.

He said something to me
that made me wonder.

-What?

-He said that Hitler
and Franco met at

The palazzo in 1939.

-Didn't they?

-No.

That was Franco and Mussolini.

You'd think someone in the
fo would know that.

-You know, I think a saw
an old who's who

Here the other day.

Yes.

I did.

Here we go.

Here we are.

All right.

Uh, shawl.

Uh, yes.

Sir Basil Slavinski.

Permanent undersecretary, hm
foreign and commonwealth

Office retired.

Married 1973, one daughter.

-Ah, didn't give her
name, I suppose.

-No.

Blah, blah, blah, blah,
blah, blah, blah.

Recreations--

jazz, gardening.

Gardening?

Get out of here.

And he doesn't know what an
artichoke looks like.

I knew there was something
fishy about him.

-Another thing that intrigues
me, is why was Celia Llewellyn

Giving money to a policeman
yesterday?

-She's a model, you know.

Catwalk stuff, mainly.

Works in Genoa.

-Quite a lot of money,
by the look of it.

-Well, I've heard all sorts
of rumors about why

her papa left England.

-What, trouser trouble,
wasn't it, some girl?

-But the police wouldn't send
Janice to investigate that.

Would they?

-Why don't you go
and talk to her.

She's got a flat in
the old town.

-Emma, we're supposed to be
getting your restaurant ready

to open in a week.

-Well, you can check up about
your plants at the di Vaio di

Pianti on the way.

-Si?

Ciao.

Uh, do, uh, do you
speak Inglese?

-Heh, no.

-No.

Ok.

Uh, uh, signorina Llewellyn?

-Polizia?

Why is he asking if we're
from the police?

-No.

Polizia.

No, no, no, no, no.

Uh, no sono Inglese.

Uh, no sono uh--

What's gardeners.

-Uh, well, garden's giardino.

-Giardino.

Oh, so, no sono, uh, uh, inglese
giar-deeeee-nah.

-You've just told him
we're gardenias.

-Uh, no sono giardinieri.

Inglese giardinieri.

-Giardinieri, si, giardinieri.

-Dove, uh, Celia Llewellyn.

-Ah, uh, si, uh,

Uh, hotel Garibaldi.

-Hotel Garibaldi.

-Garibaldi.

Si.

Il bar.

-Grazie, grazie.

Arrivederci.

-Arrivederci.

-Is she working here, or what?

-I don't know.

Doing whatever models
do, I suppose.

Oh, there she is.

Oh, no.

Sit down.

She's by the bar with a man.

-They're coming this way.

-Heading towards the lift.

-You don't think she's--

-I'll put it this way.

Whatever they're going to do is
not going to feature very

heavily in vogue.

Question is what are
we going to do?

-Well, we could wait,
I suppose, but

they might be hours.

-Nah.

Look at him.

10 Minutes at the most.

Let's have the coffee outside.

-Coffee?

-You can't tell my father.

Please.

-It all right.

That's not what we're
interested in.

-There hasn't been any proper
modeling work for months.

I'm in so much debt.

-Well, you don't have to
justify yourself to us.

It's about your father.

-What about my father?

-You know why he left
Sittingbourne.

-I don't know anything.

-Look, I've got to go.

-Please, we don't
believe Fabrizio

Killed Janice Alexander.

-What's that got to do
with daddy and me?

-She was a detective.

Was she investigating
your father?

-No.

You're talking rubbish.

-I think she's telling
the truth.

-I don't know.

-Well, she didn't kill Janice.

-What made you so trusting?

-Oh, look.

It's Sir Basil up there.

-And that pottery
woman, Gloria.

-Lover's tiff?

Maybe.

-Plenty of big organic stuff.

That's the secret.

-Woo.

It'll be no secret to anyone
downwind of us.

-Shouldn't the plants
be here by now?

-Oh, they'll be here
by tuesday.

-Oh, I'm dreadfully worried
about Fabrizio.

-Oh, I think Fabrizio is well
able to look after himself.

-Do you think so?

He's very sensitive.

Anyway, if that girl was in the
english police and she was

Murdered because she was
investigating someone,

it isn't likely to have been
Fabrizio, is it?

-No, I suppose not.

-I've got an idea.

-Is this a good idea,
do you think?

-I haven't a clue what
the idea is.

-Oh, Gloria's not
here yet anyway.

-Gloria?

-Gloria gable.

The woman who makes pots.

-Oh, yes.

I don't really know her.

-Am I late?

-Yes, you are, dear.

You haven't seen Celia,
have you?

-Celia?

No.

-Did you talk to her?

-I left a message on her ...

-Maybe she's away working
in Milan.

-What's all this about?

-I've no idea.

Sir Basil's looking rather
dapper, isn't he?

Do you know him well?

-He's an old friend.

A dear friend.

-All right, well, we'll have
to start without Celia.

Pay attention.

Please.

Everyone.

Several of us are very perturbed
about the way the

police are handling this
terrible murder.

-Who's perturbed?

-Several of us.

Well, they're still holding
Fabrizio, even though it's

apparent he's most unlikely to
have had anything to do it.

-I don't see why.

-My idea is we should re-enact
the events leading up to the murder-

- who was with whom and
when, et cetera, then we can

get a clear idea of who was
absent at the time poor little

Janice Alexander was killed.

-Isn't that the job
of the police?

-Now, we all came into the
clearing at about 12:30, and

Fabrizio was already
there, I remember.

-He'd gone on in advance
to organize the lunch.

-Good!

Hah.

Good!

Well, you see?

Now, as I remember it,
I was walking with

Laura when we arrived.

Right Laura?

-Oh, god.

I don't know.

-No.

No, you were with me.

-Was i?

No.

-Yes.

Yes you were.

I remember because you said
thank god there's alcohol.

-Oh yeah.

Well, who were you with,
then, Laura?

-Uh.

I was with you, Rosemary,
wasn't i?

-No.

I'd stopped at the loo.

-Dr. Llewellyn, where
were you?

-At what point?

-She shouldn't be wasting
her time with all this.

She should be getting on with
putting the restaurant--

-She's never going to come.

Why is she running
a restaurant?

-I don't know.

-Sir Basil--

-Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

This is all pointless.

-No, it, it is not pointless.

It's a question of--

-Sir Basil says he doesn't
know Gloria at all.

-Gloria says they're old pals.

-Hmm.

-I know the Italian police.

They're probably extracting a
confession from poor Fabrizio

At this very moment by god
knows what methods.

They're probably--

Hello, everybody.

Fabrizio!

-What's going on?

-It, it, it doesn't mean
anything the fact that they've

Let him out on bail.

-What do you mean it doesn't
mean anything?

-Well, they could pick
him again any time

they feel like it.

Can't they, Fabrizio?

-Yes.

Any time at all.

-And why, may I ask, did
Celia not turn up?

-Well, she probably didn't
get your message.

-Yeah, but Celia and her father
have got nothing to do

With Janice's murder.

Scotland Yard aren't going to
send policeman on expensive

foreign trips just to
investigate a sex scandal.

-Janice was not in the police.

-Yes, she was.

-No, no.

She left the police.

Ispettore told me.

She was a private detective.

-Private detective?

Well, that puts a different
complexion on things,

doesn't it?

-Fabrizio's a silly, impulsive
boy, but he's not a murderer.

-Did you know that Janice
Alexander was a private

detective and that she was
investigating one of the

British community here.

That's probably why
she was murdered.

-And you think she was
investigating me.

-The truth is, dr. Llewellyn,
I know why you were sacked

from Sittingbourne because
of an affair

With a female student.

But Celia seems to think
that wasn't true.

-I brought up Celia since the
age of eight, you know.

I'm all she's got.

-So, it wasn't true?

-No.

Not exactly.

Look, I don't want to talk
about this anymore.

I wish Celia would go
home to England.

-Can I trust you?

-Yes, you can.

Of course you can.

-It wasn't a female student at

Sittingbourne -ahh.

I see.

-It was a male colleague.

They didn't sack me.

They couldn't.

Not for that.

I resigned.

Right.

Let's get back to Fabrizio.

-Fabrizio and I shared
an apartment in town.

-Ah.

-It was all fine until
Celia came out here.

He had to move out.

It's all become a
sordid affair.

-Hello, pudding.

Hello.

-Hello.

Aren't you beautiful?

Yes.

I used to have a beautiful
cat just like you.

I did.

Do you like these?

I've been experimenting with
a whole raft of new glazes.

-They're lovely.

Woo-- colors.

But, uh, we're looking for
some big pots

for Emma's Garden.

I'm sorry I don't do those.

-Pity.

-Hello, pudding.

How many cats have you got?

-Oh, just the two now.

My cats are my best friends.

They love anywhere
warm, don't they?

-Oh, yes.

Ooh.

-Mind you, getting the kiln up
to the proper temperature

takes at least four hours and
you daren't leave it.

I've been hard at it since
9:00 this morning.

-The police don't seem to
be getting anywhere

with Janice's murder.

Now they've got no idea who
killed the poor girl.

-Poor girl?

She got was coming to
her if you ask me.

-Gloria!

-Well, you saw her trying to
steal Sir Basil's wallet.

-Maybe she wasn't trying
to steal it at all.

You know him quite
well, don't you?

-Yes.

-Can you think of any reason
why Janice would be

Interested in him?

-Not the foggiest.

Although when Janice and
Fabrizio went into the trees,

Sir Basil came over to me and
tried to make conversation,

but he seemed very
preoccupied.

Then Basil went off through the
trees and I assumed he'd

gone to the loo.

I do worry about
him, you know.

He gets terribly depressed
sometimes.

Grazie, grazie.

Grazie.

Arrivederci.

-Ah, senora Thyme.

-Fabrizio.

I was just thinking about you.

-Ah, you look at the cheeses
and you think of Fabrizio.

-Something like that.

-Are you doing your shopping?

-No.

I am, uh, procras--

procras--

uh, what is the word?

I am wasting time.

-Oh.

Procrastinating?

-Yes.

Procrastinating.

Because, uh, I have to report
to the police station.

-Oh dear.

What for?

-Well, uh, any mail that, uh,
arrive at my flat for Janice,

uh, I have to deliver
to the police.

-Oh, I see.

Uh, but, well, I have to
see the inspector.

I could take it for you.

-Oh, you would do this?

-Of course.

-Oh, millie grazie.

That place, it depresses
me so much.

-I'm sure.

-My little man has brought
the table and chairs.

-Oh, good.

-The plants are arrived, too.

-Yes, I know, but everything
arrived all at once and--

lend me five euros.

I, uh, must give
him something.

Little muncher.

Make it 10.

-Rosemary?

There you are.

Come on.

Let's go.

-Where, where, where to?

-Look.

-Who is he?

-That is the real
Basil Slavinski.

-Oh, right.

Well, he's not our one.

-And he disappeared
five years ago.

Listen.

Uh, dear miss Alexander, as
you will see from the

postmark, I am back
in New Zealand.

This is the one photograph
of my uncle Basil I've

been able to find.

The only contact I've been
able to trace is his old

cleaning lady who hasn't seen
him for five years.

She says he was at his house
in France and neglected

to tell her he wasn't
coming back.

I am just afraid the old boy
is wandering somewhere with

Alzheimer's not knowing
who he is.

-Where did you get this?

-Don't ask.

Come on.

Let's go.

-No.

No.

No, no, no, no.

You can't leave me with
all this chaos.

-Sorry, sorry, Emma.

We won't be long.

Honest, darling.

-Wonder why this woman wants
to find her uncle.

-Well, says at the end that she
was over on holiday from

New Zealand and decided to look
up some relatives

in the old country.

-So, who is our Sir Basil?

-Presumably, that's what
Janice Alexander was

trying to find out.

-And he found out she
was trying find out.

It's a bit cut off
here, isn't it?

-Well, if I was him, that's
the way I'd like it.

-Not much sign of life.

He's lying low.

-Laura.

Can't be far away.

-Sir Basil?

That's a long way down.

-Well, whoever he was,
we're too late.

-He must have known we were
going to arrest him and

decided to jump.

At precisely 2:42.

That's when his watch stopped.

And you'd found out that he
wasn't the real Sir Basil?

-After you told ispettore that
miss Alexander was in

the police, we checked with
Scotland Yard.

They told us now she was private
investigator and found

out for us what she
was investigating.

-Do you know his real name?

-No, we don't.

Rupert Kenyon-Jones was
the one he used most.

He had been in prison a lot for
the same sort of thing--

Small frauds, stealing antiques,
stealing checkbooks,

Offenses like that.

-Hmm, hmm, so much that.

-Mmm.

This doesn't smell
right, you know?

It just doesn't smell right.

-Doesn't it?

-No, it doesn't.

Criminals stick to
their lasts.

Particularly this sort
of criminal.

Kenyon-Jones was a con man.

Petty theft occasionally,
but murder?

No.

-This man knows the police
are after him.

So, right out of character, he
batters a detective to death

with a rock.

Now, even if we accept that,
what does he do next?

Being the man that he was,
what would you do next?

-Disappear.

And reinvent myself
as somebody else.

-But what does he do?

And this is only two days after
he supposedly battered

Janice Alexander to death
with a rock, remember.

He gets up.

He putters about the house.

He makes himself a
spot of lunch.

-We don't know that.

-No, all right.

But what we do know, is that at
some point he made himself

a nice cup of coffee, and he
came out to the garden to read

the newspaper.

How do you make the
transition?

-What, you mean the transition
between battering her brains out

and having a cup of coffee?

-No.

The transition between enjoying
a cup of coffee and

reading the paper, to jumping
off the cliff.

-Yes, I see your point.

Wait a minute.

Look at these.

They look as if someone's
trodden on them,

stamped on them almost.

-Well, they're not in
a place where you'd

normally walk, are they?

-No, I suppose not.

Unless two people
were struggling.

-Ahh.

See if you can, uh,
see anything else.

-Yes!

-Laura, what is it?

-I don't know.

Yes, I do.

I do.

It's the glass from a watch.

-The sergeant said his watch
stopped at precisely 2:42.

42

-But it must have
stopped here.

Not at the foot of the cliff.

-Now what would be the reason
for someone to kill Sir Basil,

or rupert Kenyon-Jones,
or whoever he was.

-Let's assume that he
didn't kill Janice.

-Ok.

-But then whoever did kill her
did it because she was going

to expose Sir Basil stroke
Kenyon-Jones.

-Now, I don't quite see
what you're getting at

-No, I don't either
at the moment.

Well, let's see.

Who is there?

-Well, there's Celia.

And maybe she thought that, uh,
Janice was investigating

her father and she wanted
to protect him.

-Ah.

Yes.

But that doesn't involve
Sir Basil, does it?

And Llewellyn's got an alibi.

-Has he?

-Yes.

You.

-Oh.

You were with him at about
2:40 this afternoon.

-Oh yeah.

-And Gloria Gable says she
didn't leave her pottery from

9 O'clock this morning.

-Hey.

What about?

-Don't be silly.

Emma was here all the time
having everything delivered.

-Oh yeah.

You didn't do it, did you?

-Ha ha ha.

-Come on, darlings.

Din-dins will be ready
in a minute.

Just time for a little glass of ...

-Joseph.

Rosemary!

What!

Oh, no.

-Get up!

-Get up.

Get up.

Right.

Oh, what were we drinking
last night?

-Get your clothes on!

-Clothes.

Right.

Clothes.

Ok.

Right.

-Can I have a shower?

-No.

We haven't got time.

-No.
Haven't got time.

No.

Oh, why am I getting up?

Oh.

-Because I had a dream
about Joseph.

-Joseph.

Right.

Ok.

Joseph.

And the hell is Joseph?
-My old cat.

You know.

The one I told you about.

The one with the white paws.

Come on.

Ooh.

My head.

Why are we rushing
about like this?

And what's your cat got
to do with anything?

-I saw her cat lying on
the bonnet of the car.

Why was the cat lying on
the bonnet of the car?

Because it was warm.

I know.

I leant on the bonnet
when I stroked him.

Gloria said she hadn't
been out all day, but

the engine was warm.

Key?

-So what would be
Gloria's motive?

-Remember Emma said Gloria had
no money until about a year ago,

and that now
she's all right?

-Yes, since she's started
selling more of her pots.

-Oh, bull rubbish.

I've seen them and you heard
what she said about her

exhibition, about people
having no taste.

Does that sound like they're
selling like hotcakes?

Good.

Her car's still here.

I thought she might
have done a bunk.

Come on.

-Gloria?

Gloria?

She's not here.

She has done a bunk.

Oh, damn.

She must have taken a taxi.

Come on.

-So where would she be
heading in a taxi?

-The airport.

-Right.

-Why are we stopping?

-She'd never go without
her cats.

There were two cat baskets
in the kitchen.

-I don't think so.

Do you?

-What are you doing?

I have to get into San Remo.

I'm meeting a very
important buyer.

-Oh, the cats are going
too, are they?

-They have to get their shots.

Two birds with one stone.

-Like the stone you used
on Janice Alexander?

-I don't know what you're
talking about.

That's preposterous.

-How'd she found that you were
blackmailing Sir Basil?

-I know nothing about this.

Look, if you'll just
move your car.

-How did you know Sir Basil
wasn't who he said he was?

-If you don't let me out of
here, I shall call the police.

Oh god.

He had plenty of money!

I wasn't the criminal!

As soon as he got here I knew.

I never forget a face.

I remember seeing photograph
of Sir Basil Slavinski

in a newspaper years ago.

I knew it wasn't him.

-Then when Janice arrived, you
realized she'd find out, too.

-I, I didn't mean to kill her.

I didn't know what to do.

The money was just to keep
me going, just until the

pottery took off.

Otherwise I'd have to go
crawling back to watford with

my tail between my legs.

And no way was I going
to do that.

-And you had to silence
sir Basil, because it was only

a matter of time before the
police would start

investigating him about
the murder.

They'd find out that he was
a phony and you were

blackmailing him.

And that's why you killed him.

-Oh god.

Oh god.

-Grappa.

Just try it.

-No, thank you, Fabrizio.

-My family has been making
grappa for generations.

It is famous, eh?

-Grappa.

No.

I have a very regrettable
reaction to italian alcohol.

-The police in England think
they have identified the real

Sir Basil Slavinski now.

An old man was brought into
hospital in Carlisle, and

never regained consciousness.

They thought he had been robbed,
because he had no

papers or wallet on him.

-Yeah but, how did

Kenyon-Jones assume his identity?

-There was a man calling himself
Ken Jones

working there
as a porter at the time.

He left the day the old
man was brought in.

Presumably, he stole
sir Basil's identity.

-Well, I think it's dreadfully clever of you, darling.

Laura!
-Coming.

-Scusi.
Scusi.

-This goose is cold.

-What!

-The goose.

It's cold.

-I know the goose is cold.

I've only got one oven, and
I am cooking up kidneys!

And lamb!

And lasagna!

And guinea fowl!

And viva la bloody provo.

Of course it's bloody cold!

I where's Emma!

Emma!

-It was Emma who sent it back.

-Grappa!

-You explain to the next table
you can't get the staff.

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