Original subtitles

You will accompany us,

please, Herr Director.

There is nothing here.

Maria.

Don't you have work to do?

Sorry, sir.

You are Atticus Pünd?

Yes.

I wonder if I might join you.

It seems you already have.

I am Police Lieutenant Achilles Vassilikos.

Let me say at once that I know who you are.

Your name is well known to us.

I take that as a compliment.

I understand you have come to Corfu to meet.

Lady Margaret Chalfont.

No.

I have come here for my health.

I happened to meet Lady Chalfont

and she asked for my assistance.

On what matter?

She did not say.

We're having dinner this evening.

I am afraid that will not be possible, Herr Pünd.

Lady Chalfont died yesterday afternoon.

Yes.

And you believe it is a matter for the police?

I would not be here otherwise.

What...

What was the cause of death?

It is as yet unconfirmed, but we suspect poisoning.

You are aware, I'm sure, that Lady Chalfont was not well.

She told me she did not expect to live for another season.

Nevertheless, the evidence suggests she

did not die a natural death.

How can I be of assistance to you, Police Lieutenant?

Frankly, I do not believe you can help me

in any way, Herr Pünd, but my superiors in Athens

think otherwise.

If Lady Chalfont consulted you, she may well

have been in fear of her life.

She did not seem to be.

Still, she approached you, and now she is dead.

Many clients have asked me to their houses, but,

not all of them have been murdered.

Do you not think you owe it to her to investigate

what has occurred?

Is that what you are asking?

It is what my superiors are asking,

and they are hoping you will agree.

Why does he speak perfect English?

I'm sorry?

Achilles Vassilikos.

He's a police officer from Athens.

Why does he speak English?

I don't know.

You're writing this, Eliot.

I think you need an answer.

Look, there may be a problem setting it in Corfu.

I mean, I like it, I really do, but I

think you might be creating difficulties for yourself.

But Corfu makes sense.

Atticus has gone back to his roots.

Well, you say that, but in the museum chapter,

they're speaking three languages:

English, German and Greek.

Don't you think it's a bit League of Nations?

Well, where would you set it?

That's not for me to say.

It's not my book.

All right.

I'll put in an explanation for why Achilles.

Vassilikos speaks English.

Thank you.

You speak excellent English, Police Lieutenant.

My father was a translator at the British embassy

before the war.

He had a huge admiration for the British

and he insisted that I learn the language

from the age of six.

It all happened very suddenly.

We were having our... tea.

Mother had her usual pot of lemon and ginger.

Everything seemed fine.

She said something was burning her throat, and then...

We thought she'd had a heart attack.

I still believe that.

We all loved her.

No one had any reason to do her harm.

So why, then, did you ask your lawyer to summon

the police, Mr Lyttleton?

Isn't that what you're meant to do when someone dies?

Mr Lambrose said you were in a state of panic.

I wasn't panicking.

I...

I was upset, obviously.

Did you also drink the lemon and ginger tea?

Absolutely not.

Jeffrey and I had Earl Grey.

Fortnum & Mason.

We have to bring it out here.

You can't get anything like that on this damn island.

The symptoms you describe, they do not

suggest to me a heart attack.

Are you suggesting there was something in her tea?

That's absurd.

Who would want to kill a woman who only had months to live?

Why risk hanging when the end was so near anyway?

Oh, it will not be hanging.

Not in Greece.

It will be the firing squad.

Oh.

In any event, the tea has been sent to the laboratory

in Athens for analysis, and we will

have the results very soon.

Who made the tea?

Maria Kapodistria.

How long have you worked for the family?

Every summer for six years.

I'm from Ithaki, my family.

Did you always make the tea?

It's my job.

Two teapots.

So which one did Lady Chalfont use?

The small one.

Always the small.

After you made the tea, did you take it straight out?

I make the tea the same as I do every day.

But this time, just when I finish,

somebody knock...

at the window.

Luan?

I think it is maybe Luan, the gardener.

But there is no one, so I go back.

And that is when I see.

I know I put the lid on the pot for Lady Chalfont,

I am certain, but now...

You did not see who knocked the window?

I...

I see no one.

There are three doors.

If someone came in, they could have used any one of them.

No, sir.

There are four.

And I heard the door close.

Which door?

This one.

A service staircase.

It leads up to the first floor.

I've spoken to the family and they were all

here when Lady Chalfont died.

Any one of them could have created a diversion.

Allowing another of them to slip down these stairs.

This is Judith Lyttleton's bedroom.

Jeffrey and Lola Chalfont are there.

Robert Waysmith, Elmer's son, over there.

As for Elmer himself, he has an office and a bedroom

here at the far end.

He sleeps on his own.

And Lady Chalfont?

Oh.

A room with a view.

This is where she liked to spend her time.

You mentioned a lawyer, Mr Lambrose.

For what reason had he come to the house?

Lady Chalfont had called him.

She wanted to talk about her will.

That is clearly of great significance?

It would help if we knew what was in it.

- Mummy? - Oh, shh.

Sorry.

Mummy?

There you are.

Mummy, when can we go back to Norfolk?

We can't go back, Cedric.

Cos someone killed Granny?

No.

The police don't think that.

They just want to ask us some questions.

Did you kill her?

I'm your mother.

How can you ask me that?

Cos she wouldn't give you the money for your play.

Now, that's a terrible thing to say.

Lady Chalfont asked me to investigate

because of a conversation that she had overheard,

concerning her second husband, Elmer Waysmith,

and it's true... you can hear every word.

Hope I'm not interrupting.

I thought you might be hungry.

That's very kind, Gillian.

How's it all going?

Yeah, good.

We're just getting to the scene with Judith and Lola.

Oh, right.

Okay, I'll leave you in peace, then.

I've got my shift as well.

Thanks for these.

Susan, you... you don't mind me asking, do ya?

Are you enjoying it?

Do you think it's good?

I think it's very good.

Really?

Yeah.

I tell you something, if Alan Conway was still alive,

I think he'd be impressed.

If Alan was still alive, I wouldn't have got the gig.

So are... are you gonna be Eliot's editor, then?

Gillian.

I think the decision's been made.

Yes.

Really?

Yeah.

I'm so glad.

I...

I just know this one is gonna be a huge bestseller.

I hope so.

I'll be back at six.

Sorry about that.

Don't be. I...

I could do with one of these.

Actually, there's something I haven't asked you.

Go on.

You've read 60 pages.

Twenty thousand words.

Have you guessed who did it?

Must have been Elmer.

You did not see him?

No, but I heard someone go down the service stairway

just around four o'clock.

The stairs creak.

It wasn't me.

I was reading in the library.

And it certainly wasn't me.

As far as I know, Elmer was the only one up here.

Dr Lyttleton, how would you describe your relationship

with Mr Waysmith?

Not an easy one.

I adored my father.

When he died, I never expected Mother to marry again.

Certainly not to someone ten years her junior.

We all assumed Elmer was a gold digger when he

joined the family, and it's true

he had Mother wrapped around his little finger.

But Mr Waysmith is himself a wealthy man.

That's true.

He inherited a fortune from his first wife when she died.

And how did she die?

Oh, she threw herself under a train

in Grand Central Station in New York.

To take her own life.

I wonder what could have driven her to such a desperate act?

Maybe it was Elmer.

I wanna leave as soon as the will has been read.

Right.

We'll have the funeral in England.

In Norfolk?

Yes, in Norfolk.

Of course.

Where did you expect it to be?

Paddington Station?

Whatever you say, Pa.

Mr Waysmith.

I hope we're not interrupting you.

You are interrupting me.

Who is this?

This is Atticus Pünd.

He has a few questions for you.

My wife died of a heart attack.

I didn't realise we needed Interpol.

I wonder if you could tell us what your movements

were yesterday, Mr Waysmith.

We don't need you, Robert.

I'll talk to these people on my own.

Whatever you say, Pa.

If... if... if that's all right?

I said we don't need you!

Just do as I say!

I was at home all day yesterday, apart from lunch

with my son at Votsalo.

That's a restaurant in the old town.

We met at, one o'clock, but I was back here by three.

It must be a uniquely painful experience

for you to have lost not one but two wives

in such an unnatural way.

Margaret's death wasn't unnatural.

She had been ill for quite some time.

If it's not too personal a question, when you married

Margaret Chalfont...

how did the family react?

Well, that is a personal question, Mr Pünd.

But I'll tell you anyway.

They resented me from the moment I came onto the scene,

and I'll tell you why.

Because they were bleeding her dry.

All they ever wanted was her money,

and whatever they may say to the contrary,

they can't wait for the reading of her will.

You know what it contains?

Oh, I do.

They don't.

That's the fun of it.

Let's just say they may be in for a big surprise.

You will not tell us?

No, Police Lieutenant.

I don't have to and I don't think I will.

Now, if you don't mind...

Oh, I do have one further question, Mr Waysmith.

There's a book on the shelf behind you.

If I may...

I could not help noticing that it's been read recently.

It was jutting out.

Erskine's Toxicology: A Study of Poisons.

This is yours?

The hell with you, Mr Pünd.

The emperor Claudius was poisoned,

as was Britannicus, Ptolemy, Alexander

the Great and many more.

I sell antiquities, and it's my job to know

the stories behind them.

My job.

That's all.

What is it you want?

I thought you might like to see these.

These are the photographs of the calyx krater

from the Vathy Museum in Ithaca, stolen by the Nazis

in June 1944.

There can be no doubt of it.

I know.

I was there.

What now?

Now I can make my move.

No, it's not possible.

Everything changed.

What?

Lady Chalfont is dead.

What's a calyx krater?

It's some sort of old sort of vase.

I found it on Google.

Well, it works really well.

You really don't like Elmer, do you?

It's based on someone I know.

And who might that be?

Does it matter?

Well, maybe it does.

You know, Alan Conway played games.

He put people into his books, people that he knew,

but it was never in a pleasant way.

He turned them into caricatures and sometimes he

made anagrams of them.

Darnley was one.

Darnley?

L-E-Y?

Yeah.

Oh, Ryeland.

That's you.

Are you doing the same?

I thought the whole idea was to do the same as Alan Conway.

It was those games that got him killed, Eliot.

Villa Belmar?

What about it?

Belmar is an anagram of marble, as in Marble Hall.

I wondered if you'd notice that.

And Miriam Crace, your grandmother,

has the same initials as Margaret.

Chalfont, both elderly ladies who die quite suddenly.

Is that part of the plot?

It might be.

I'm trying to help you, Eliot.

You can't keep secrets from me.

Isn't that what mystery novels are all about?

You know what I mean.

I saw Elaine Clover yesterday.

How is she?

She's worried about you.

She said you were very unhappy at Marble Hall.

Unhappy?

So, is that what she said, unhappy?

She said you hated your grandmother.

We all did, every one of us.

Marble Hall was like a prison.

We were all trapped there.

Because, you see, she had the money, fame, power.

Do you know the biggest mistake I ever made?

I told her I wanted to be a writer like her.

Come in.

Oh.

I'd written this story called Space Boy.

Now, what's this?

It was about a little kid who builds a rocket

and travels to the moon.

My father persuaded me to show it to her.

It's very sweet, Eliot.

I'm flattered you want to be like me.

But, this isn't very good.

You can't write, you can't spell, and reading this,

I wouldn't say you have much imagination.

You're just like your father.

And maybe you should lower your expectations

and do something more boring with your life, like him.

Don't ever say I was unhappy at Marble Hall.

It was torture living there.

Do you know it's open to the public now?

You can visit there for, like, 12 quid.

I sometimes think about going back just to burn it down.

In your book, Margaret Chalfont gets poisoned.

Yeah.

But Miriam Crace...

died a natural death.

And what gave you that idea?

It was in all the papers.

It was never in question.

Read on.

We are the Tiny People We're tiny That's why we're coming

for you Cos Tiny People matter And we

know what to do -Here you are.

Thank you.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe Tiny People

on the go We are the Tiny People.

Good afternoon, everyone.

Welcome to Marble Hall.

Please come this way for the 3:30 tour.

So, I'm Brenda, and, it's my pleasure to show you round

the house where it all began.

And what better place to start than here in the library, where

Miriam Crace actually wrote many of the books,

sitting at that desk there.

Oh, oh, please, don't sit in her chair,

as Mr and Mrs Tiny definitely wouldn't like it.

A few facts to start us off.

There were 63 books about the Tiny People,

and they are said to have sold 300 million

copies in over 90 languages.

This is a Korean edition, but you'll find

many others on the shelves.

Again, please, no touching.

Over here is a collection of Miriam's left-handed pens.

She was a left-handed writer and bought

a new pen for every book.

And this is a facsimile of Grandpa's stopwatch,

which was given to Miriam on her 50th birthday

by the Society of Authors.

As you can see, it's showing four o'clock because...

You can always stop at teatime!

That's right.

Incidentally, Netflix has just bought the rights

to make a new series, so that's definitely

something to look forward to.

Anyway, please, do look around, and any questions,

just ask.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Who's this?

That's Miriam Crace.

No.

With her.

That's her driver.

His name was Luan.

He was with her for years.

So, shall we move on?

This way.

So now we're heading up to the first floor.

And please do watch your step.

What's with all these stuffed animals?

They weren't in the books.

Oh, no.

That was Arthur Crace, Miriam's husband.

He died in 2001, but taxidermy was his hobby.

You mean he made these?

Some of them.

He also bought old specimens.

This one, for example.

It's Victorian, and we're not allowed to touch it.

In case it falls apart?

It's not just that.

I'm afraid it's our old friends

again, health and safety.

Anyway, this is the corridor that Miriam shared

with two of her grandchildren.

Her youngest grandson had the bedroom at the far end.

His name is, Eliot, and he's actually

written a couple of books himself,

Although I'm afraid they weren't terribly successful.

His older brother, Roland, had the bedroom opposite.

He still works with the estate.

But, now we're going to go into Miriam's

bedroom, which is just here.

This is Miriam's bedroom.

And this is where, very sadly, she died.

That was on April the 12th, 2004.

Almost exactly 20 years ago to this day.

Her funeral was in Westminster Abbey.

And you may have noticed when we were downstairs

in the library, the family received a letter of condolence

from the queen.

What did she die of?

She had a heart attack.

She'd been ill for quite some time.

In 1967, she had to spend six months in a clinic in Lausanne.

That was for stress.

She worked so very hard.

Anyway, let's, carry on through here.

We're tiny...

Thank you very much for coming.

I'm really glad you enjoyed it.

- That was amazing. - Thank you.

That was a wonderful tour. Thank you.

Oh, it's my pleasure.

Are you a fan of the Tiny People?

Oh, yes, I've been reading them since I was this high.

I can't believe this is where it all began.

Beautiful house.

Did Miriam want it to become a museum?

No, that was Jonathan, the eldest son.

He looks after the estate.

I'm surprised he doesn't live here.

Well, most of the family left after Miriam died.

It was very painful for them.

Most of them?

Actually, Frederick Turner still lives here.

He was Miriam's adopted son.

He was brought here as a boy, and now he manages the house.

Would it be possible to meet him?

Well, I don't know. I...

I'm sorry, I'm...

I'm Susan Ryeland.

I'm actually working with Eliot Crace, Miriam's grandson.

He's writing a book.

Could you ask him?

He can always say no.

Susan Ryeland?

Yes.

I'm sorry.

I hope my appearance didn't alarm you.

No, no.

Not at all.

- You're Frederick Turner. - Yes.

I was, involved in a car accident a long time ago.

Went through a red light on my way

to the airport and a lorry hit me side on.

I'm sorry.

Well, it was my fault.

I had a head cold and I wasn't concentrating.

Right.

No, no, I wasn't...

I wasn't alarmed.

It's just that, I didn't know if you'd want to see me.

Well, if you're working with Eliot.

How is he?

He's...

He's busy.

This book of his, is it set at Marble Hall?

No, no.

It's...

It's a murder mystery set in Corfu.

But he does draw on some of his childhood experiences.

I'm afraid he wasn't very happy here.

He was a strange boy.

I remember him well.

He wanted to be a writer even then.

He was certainly imaginative.

How can I help you?

Tell me about Eliot.

Why do you think he was so unhappy?

I wouldn't like to say.

I came to Marble Hall when I was seven years old

and it saved my life.

If Eliot's writing a mystery story, he should start with me.

Tell me.

My mother died giving birth to me.

I know very little about her apart

from her name, Mary Turner.

And, my father was a traveller

doing agricultural work, name unknown.

I ended up at an institution in Salisbury,

the St Ambrose Children's Home and Orphanage.

Mrs Crace was a patron and she adopted me.

She changed my whole life.

You didn't call her Miriam or Mother?

I never called her that when she was alive

and I wouldn't dare do it now.

I respected her too much.

And you actually lived here?

Not all the time.

Mrs Crace paid for me to go to accountancy school in London.

I was the family accountant for 15 years.

But when they decided to open the hall to the public,

Jonathan suggested I might like to run it, and so here I am.

I have my, old room up in the eaves and I'm

very comfortable.

Were you here when she died?

Yes.

Yes, I'll never forget it.

It took forever for the doctor to arrive.

Dr Lambert, come in.

Where is she?

In her room.

She pressed the panic button at six o'clock.

But when the maid got to her room, she wasn't breathing.

It still hadn't sunk in.

I couldn't believe it.

Dr Lambert.

Jonathan, how is she?

I don't know.

She's not moving.

That was the worst day of my life.

Could I speak to Dr Lambert?

Why would you want to?

He lives in Urchfont, the next village.

He's retired now.

Right.

Was there ever any suggestion that there

might have been something...

unnatural about her death?

No.

Is that what Eliot's saying?

N...

No.

Not at all.

Miriam Crace made millions of people happy.

When I was alone in the orphanage,

it was her work that gave me hope that I

might one day have a future.

You know, you should think carefully, Susan.

We will not allow you or Eliot or anyone to damage her name.

He was lying.

Or maybe it is you who are becoming more mistrustful.

Well, either way, you're not gonna tell me, are you?

Frederick Turner never referred to Miriam as his mother.

He worked as the accountant for the family for 15 years

and he lived in the attic.

What does that sound like to you?

It sounds a great deal better than an orphanage.

He was covering up for her.

Or protecting her.

It's the worst thing about a murder investigation, Susan.

By its very nature it forces you to look

for the worst in everyone.

You search for a monster.

The danger is you can become one yourself.

Exactly.

So, Eliot's writing a book.

Does his family know?

They might.

I'm sure they won't be pleased.

We all had to sign an NDA before we

got anywhere near Marble Hall.

A non-disclosure agreement.

Did they have something to hide?

Not at all.

They were just protecting their interests.

Eliot does have quite a negative view

of his grandmother.

Well, I'd take anything Eliot has to say

with a pinch of salt, my dear.

He was 12 years old when he left Marble Hall.

A very devious child.

You knew the family well?

Oh, yes.

Not socially, of course.

I was the family doctor for more than 30 years.

I was in and out all the time.

I treated her husband, Arthur.

He actually got quite seriously ill.

And died?

No.

He had a hobby, taxidermy.

It brought him into contact with some quite

unpleasant chemicals and he contracted a skin disease.

I put him on a course of dimercaprol

and it cleared up in the end.

He was always grateful to me.

You should tell her about Eliot.

I don't think so.

What about him?

Eliot had a morbid fascination with poison and with disease,

and something happened just before his grandmother died.

I was treating his sister, Julia.

It was nothing very serious, tonsillitis.

Now, this won't hurt.

I'm just going to look at your throat.

Open wide.

Say.

Eliot?

Eliot.

And I saw it with my own eyes.

He stole one of the bottles of medicine from my bag.

Little thief.

And a few days later, his grandmother died?

It was only a bottle of cough medicine,

Liqufruta, quite harmless.

Still, it's quite a coincidence.

Mrs Crace died of mitral stenosis, heart disease.

I issued the death certificate and informed the coroner.

I can assure you, Miss Ryeland, that there

was nothing even faintly suspicious about her death.

Mitral stenosis is fatal in 80% of cases.

And who would want to harm her anyway?

She was loved all over the world.

Outrageous.

Indeed.

Sorry, Dr Lambert.

I didn't mean to offend you.

I'm sure Miriam Crace was a wonderful person.

She was always very kind to me.

Is this yours?

Yes.

It's beautiful.

Jaguar XK140, 3.4 litre, twin cam, straight six.

I've got a Triumph Spitfire in the garage.

Lucky you.

It's all thanks to Miriam Crace.

She left me a generous bequest in her will.

She was a wonderful woman.

I still miss her.

We all do.

Bye.

You are Hector Lambrose?

Yes, sir.

And who are you?

I am Police Lieutenant Achilles Vassilikos.

This is my associate, Atticus Pünd.

We would like to have a word with you.

Is it about Lady Chalfont?

Yes.

Well, I'm afraid I can't speak to you now.

I'm here for the reading of the will.

That will have to wait, Mr Lambrose.

I am conducting an official murder investigation.

Murder?

We need to see you now.

I sent a sample of the tea that Lady Chalfont drank

to Athens for analysis, and I received

a telephone call this morning.

She was poisoned with aconitine.

Poison?

No, that's impossible.

You are?

My name is Sofia Androulakis.

I'm Mr Lambrose's private secretary.

Well, I'm sorry, Miss Androulakis,

there can be no doubt.

I understand that you arrived at the villa

at exactly the moment Lady Chalfont died.

Can you tell me why?

Yes, of course.

She had telephoned me and asked me to come.

Did she say what it was that she wished to discuss?

Only that it concerned the will.

Was she intending to change it?

Our conversation was very brief.

She just asked me to bring it with me and then she rang off.

And when did she make this call?

It was a quarter past two last Wednesday.

The same day that she met me.

I took the call and I transferred it to Mr Lambrose.

How did you come to be working here in Corfu, Mr Lambrose?

I started a private practice in 1949.

There are a great many English families who have homes here

and require legal assistance.

Miss Androulakis is bilingual and has been at my side

from the very start.

I have to say I'll miss her.

You're leaving?

Miss Androulakis is engaged to be married.

Who is the lucky man?

Oh... his name is Antonis.

He works in a hotel.

Who in the family knows the contents

of the will, Mr Lambrose?

Only Elmer Waysmith.

He is Lady Chalfont's husband.

He helped with the drafting.

But no one else has any idea what I'm about to reveal.

Well, then, why don't you tell them what they want to hear

and let's see how they react.

How long do you think they're going to be?

I don't know, Robert.

Why don't you ask them?

You know what's in the will, Elmer.

Why don't you just tell us?

Because it's none of my business.

I wonder, how much money did you persuade her to leave you?

You really think that anyone could

have persuaded your mother to do

something she didn't wanna do?

Oh, it's damn hot.

Where's Maria with the lemonade?

Will Grandma have left me any money?

Shh, Cedric.

You can't ask questions like that.

Why?

That's what you want to know.

Sir.

At last.

Please.

Please, everyone.

Will you take your places?

Police Lieutenant Vassilikos wishes to say

a few words before we begin.

Is he staying?

Please.

I regret to have to inform you that I

am now engaged in an official murder investigation.

Analysis has shown that Lady Chalfont was poisoned...

with aconitine in her tea.

I knew it, I knew it.

One of you...

Hey, Pa, don't say that.

Come on, of course that's not true.

It's impossible.

You've made a mistake. No, we were there.

We were with her. You're wrong.

We all loved her.

None of us would have harmed her.

What is aconitine?

You can't seriously believe it was any of us.

My mother was dying anyway.

She had only weeks to live.

Why would anyone want to kill her?

That is a good question, Dr Lyttleton.

And you can be sure that we will find the answer.

The police lieutenant has asked,

nay, demanded to be present for the reading of the will.

Does anyone have any objections?

I object.

This is a private family occasion.

Do we have any choice?

It seems very likely that your stepmother's

death was related to the will.

The sooner we know the contents,

the sooner we can act.

Sit down, then, for God's sake.

Let's get this over with.

Thank you, Maria.

First of all, I would like to express

my condolences to all of you.

We all loved and admired Lady Chalfont,

and although we knew she was gravely ill, none of us

could have predicted this terrible turn of events.

We can dispense with the estate of Chalfont Hall in the county

of Norfolk which has already passed down

to the seventh earl, Jeffrey Chalfont,

following the death of his father, 500 acres including

the manor house, various farm buildings

and the hunting lodge.

What is the point of having all that land if you

can't afford to keep it?

Shh.

We are here today to discuss

the considerable fortune which Lady Chalfont inherited

from her first husband.

This property, the house in St James's, London,

the private bank and funds which total together

900,000 pounds sterling.

Is that a lot?

Yes, Cedric.

It's a fortune.

I spoke at length to Lady Chalfont last summer.

She had made certain arrangements which she wished

to explain to you herself.

To that end, she wrote a final communication,

witnessed by myself and Miss Androulakis in my office.

"I have come to a decision with respect to my will,

and I want it to be known..."

"And I want it to be known that it is without question

my decision and mine alone.

I do this without any malice and with only...

"the best intentions."

"I am very fond of the young people who make up

my immediate family, but I sometimes

question their judgement."

What?

"Which is why I am leaving the bulk of my estate

to my dear Elmer..."

What?

"Who has been my rod and my staff since

the loss of my first husband."

What does that mean, the bulk?

Please let me continue, my lord.

Go on, then.

"I am leaving the sum of 20,000 pounds to my son, Jeffrey.

Chalfont, and his wife."

Is that each or between us?

"I am leaving the same amount to my daughter Judith

and her husband Harry."

Oh, my God.

"Cedric will receive his parcel of 20,000

pounds on his 21st birthday."

That's ages away.

"My stepson, Robert Waysmith, will

also receive 10,000 pounds."

I suppose that's what she thought I was worth.

"But the rest of my estate in its entirety,

I bequeath to Elmer Waysmith."

"I know that he has no need of the money,

but I am making him the custodian of my wealth

to protect my family.

He will provide them with guidance and financial support

they need..." "...whilst at the same time protecting them

from their worst excesses."

What does...

What does that mean?

Your late mother made it quite clear, my lord.

You have each been given sizable amounts.

Peanuts!

And the bulk of the estate is at your disposal,

but she has made Mr Waysmith her executor.

You mean if we want money, we have to ask him?

Yes.

Do you have any idea how much it costs to build a hotel?

Twenty thousand pounds will barely pay for the foundation.

It's my twenty thousand pounds, Harry, and I need it for Peru.

You are joking.

It'll take ten times that amount to save the Nazca Lines.

This is your doing.

You put her up to this.

No.

That's not how it was.

You're a crook, a gold digger, just like we always thought.

Do not talk to my father like that.

It's true.

Ladies and gentlemen, please.

He turned Margaret against us from the day he married her!

Now, you listen to me!

Margaret knew you all for what you are: Feckless, weak,

obsessed with money without ever having earned

a penny of it in your life!

You're running your father's estate

into the ground while you're off partying,

drinking, gambling.

You're pouring money into a hotel that's never

gonna see the light of day.

While you're throwing thousands at a monument

that no one's ever heard of and no one's ever gonna see!

And you want to keep the money for yourself.

You're a thief!

I'm not gonna take that from a second-rate actress

who's trying to buy her way back into show business!

That's enough, now.

I think everyone should sit down.

You killed her, didn't you?

You knew about the will, so you put poison in her tea!

You take that back!

Your father is a thief and a murderer!

No, you mustn't!

Stop!

What have you done?

Harry.

Leave me alone!

You and your father are both swine!

Get off of me!

Harry!

Get him, Harry!

No!

Get him, Harry!

Stick him one!

I will have you both arrested!

That's it!

Stop this at once!

I wonder who will be murdered next.