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The story so far...

A gang of international thieves

is planning to steal the Gyrth Chalice.

However, we now know that the genuine pre-Norman-Conquest chalice

is in the East tower of the family home,

and, everybody has been making a great deal of fuss about a substitute chalice,

made as recently as 1772.

- Albert. - The question is, do the thieves know

they are pursuing the wrong chalice? Yes.

I already know all this.

Forgive me. This is in the nature of a rehearsal.

- A rehearsal for what? - Strictly speaking, for whom.

I'm rehearsing what I shall tell Stanislaus.

Who the devil is Stanislaus?

Inspector Stanislaus Oates.

A senior and highly respected police officer,

but meeting us tonight, in his capacity as a civilised human being.

He's also very punctual, so he's probably here already and onto his second whisky.

Does he have a key?

Oh, I never lock my door.

Is that wise?

If I lock my door, people can't get in.

- Evening. - Good evening.

I've come to do you a bit of good.

But it'll cost you a fiver.

This is a senior police officer?

No, Mr Walker is a criminal, currently between sentences.

- Who's he? - No one of importance. Minor aristocrat.

Come on. Let's have the tale.

Make it good and I won't charge you for the whisky.

Thinks he knows it all, doesn't he?

He didn't even spot me on the road, this morning.

Good Lord, that was you driving the saloon!

I'm admitting nothing.

You were a party to attempted robbery, on the King's Highway.

I was hired for a bit of honest chauffeuring.

Driving a party for an outing.

And, for a fiver, you'll reveal the name of the man who hired you.

- That's right. - I know who hired you.

Matthew Sanderson, gangster of this parish.

But, who's Matthew working for?

That's the big one, isn't it?

We are mildly interested.

Mildly interested costs a fiver.

Your dad would've come across for half a crown.

Don't blame me. Blame the gold standard.

Now.

- Satisfy our mild interest. - Right.

We stop your car, the lads nick the bag.

They take it away and open it up.

They're looking to find a nice piece of aristocratic silverware.

What do they find?

Half a dozen bottles of pale ale.

Sensation in court, they're not pleased.

Me? I don't care.

I'm getting paid for driving,

and, I like a drop of pale ale.

Sanderson goes potty.

"I shall have to answer to The Daisy for this," he says.

The Daisy?

- That's what he says. - I give you five pounds and you give me a daisy?

Your dad would've presented me with a bouquet.

Could that be Daisy?

Daisy Roots, more like.

Hey, I know the sound of them feet.

Inspector Oates, may I introduce

Ernie Walker?

Just visited!

Just arrived.

Just going.

You didn't tell me he was coming.

Move along there, please, sir.

Shut the door on your way out.

And your dad always checked the watermark!

Do you, by any chance, know of a wealthy, influential man about the underworld

called "The Daisy"?

Hanged, in Manchester. September the 27th, 1928.

Murderer. Poisoning, followed by dismemberment.

I remember the execution. It was raining.

Hmm. Our man is currently active. Nowhere near retirement.

Lots of small fry use Daisy as a nickname.

Not small fry.

He could, conceivably, be a highly gifted amateur.

What exactly are you up to?

Or, is it a state secret, again?

I'm taking the short road, as opposed to the long road.

Thank you very much, that's much clearer.

Or, to express it in another way,

it is the one occasion in a hundred, when publicity would be catastrophic.

Official police involvement, undesirable.

And it falls to the gifted, private individual, to take responsibility.

And, you are taking responsibility for... What?

The safety of a great, national treasure.

Coupled with a spot of drastic eradication.

This great, national treasure...

Wouldn't happen to be in the suitcase, by any chance?

It is just possible.

Supposing Val were to stay here, with the suitcase,

while I return to the family seat,

to try to uproot The Daisy, so to speak.

Well, I'll do whatever you think best.

This is probably the safest place in London.

You're sitting on top of a police station.

I'll put a bobby on the doorstep,

a plainclothes man on the roof,

and a couple of chaps, in the house of delights across the street.

We have only five days. Next Wednesday is my birthday.

I can provide the protection.

I'll leave it to the gifted, private individual to solve the mystery.

My pleasure.

But, try to be circumspect about your drastic spots of eradication.

It can be illegal, in some cases.

Hello, Soft Furnishings.

Good Lord.

Somebody tried to eradicate Lugg.

He's here.

What happened to Lugg?

Gone off his rocker, sir.

How were you able to spot the difference?

All I know is, he turned up outside, on the lawn, in the middle of the night,

howling and gibbering and raving.

He woke the entire house!

Howling and gibbering can have that effect.

- Hysteria isn't amusing. - Well, hardly ever.

Can't you work it out? You're the great detective.

He went down to Pharisee's Clearing last night,

and saw whatever it was that killed Aunt Di.

It's a step in the right direction.

Albert! Did you tell him to go?

I gently suggested no more than he might maintain a discreet, nocturnal presence.

I think you should apologise.

Do I really owe you an apology?

Makes no odds to me. I've resigned.

- I accept your resignation. - Accept?

I give you the best years of my life.

I nearly lost my reason, for you, and, all you could do is accept.

What do you want me to do?

I want you to spend a night in that haunted wood

and see what it does to your reason.

That's if you carry one in stock.

Which I sometimes doubt.

Just tell me what you saw.

I saw that monster.

The one they keep in the secret room!

The one they feed with the pump!

That's nonsense.

Tell me what you saw.

It was ten foot high, it had horns and smelled putrid, like...

Dead fish!

It was like a ten-foot high goat, walking on its hind legs.

That's better.

- Now I believe you. - You do?

Not only that, I will not accept your resignation!

And, if anyone asks, you've had a bilious attack.

Heart attack!

I got my pride, you know!

Why are we going to see the professor?

Because, there's something very strange

going on in Pharisee's Clearing,

that might turn out to be a clue,

which might, in its turn, help us to identify The Daisy.

But, why are we going to see the professor?

Because he is one of the world's leading authorities

on ten-foot high goats.

This is delightful! Have you come for lunch?

We need the comfort of a scientific explanation.

- For what? - The ghost in Pharisee's Clearing.

I can't offer you an explanation,

but I can show you a photograph of it.

I'd heard the stories of the ghost,

long before your poor aunt passed over,

and, indeed, took the liberty of trespassing for several nights,

without seeing anything.

Of course, I had a gun with me,

which sometimes dissuades the supernatural.

Here.

How did you take this?

While I was home, in bed.

It's a device a friend of mine uses

for photographing animals by night.

The animal trips over a string that releases a flashlight and opens the camera lens.

We still need the comfort of a scientific explanation.

But, isn't that the whole point about the supernatural?

There is no scientific explanation.

Any chance of catching one of these things?

I'm sure all you need is a large butterfly net and formidable biceps.

Well, if it turns out to be what I think it is.

It's much more unpleasant than any ghost.

The Pecks.

The Pecks!

Splendid idea!

Who or what, is or are the Pecks?

They work on the estate.

Two of the world's leading authorities on catching things in nets.

The old man's a wonderful source

of medieval history and folklore,

though I have to work through an interpreter.

Are they brushing up on their madrigals?

Mr Peck?

Percy?

Gentry be here.

How are you, Mr Peck?

The joints be bad, but I ain't fit for burying yet.

I hear your aunt's was a quiet one.

Her burying, I mean.

Yes, very quiet.

It was poison to some of us.

But, I won't speak ill of the dead.

- Hello, Miss. - Good morning, Percy.

Percy, I want you to take Mr Campion and Professor Cairey

down to Pharisee's Clearing, tonight.

They think there's an animal that wants snaring.

Do you understand?

What are you thinking of, trapping it or shooting it?

Er, trapping it, certainly.

You say it'd be a big animal?

Er... A big animal, yes.

Job for a stack net?

It won't catch nothing!

That's a spirit!

Not the net.

That'll go right through it.

Like that was water...

What do you think about it, Percy?

I fixed up that wireless, so the old one can hear

fellows in Paris playing music.

If I can rule that,

I can rule any old ghost.

I thought here, sir.

I'll sit up there with the net.

And, when the thing comes beneath,

I drop the net over it.

Excellent.

I'm a simple metropolitan person.

So, you'll have to explain how you can be sure that

the thing comes under the tree.

The old ones says that it chases people, sir.

I thought you and the professor could sort of...

Lead that under I.

Lead that under I.

First class.

Let me have men about me that are Percy.

Penny, come here, girl.

Caught in a snare, and still warm.

Somebody about, don't fear no ghosts.

I'm off up here.

I suggest you work around the right side and I'll go down the left.

Constructive and symmetrical. An ideal combination.

If there are two ghosts, I'll meet you under the tree.

d Today I feel so happy

d So happy, so happy

d I don't know why I'm happy

d I only know I am d

You know what we got here.

Apart from the stink?

A witch.

Mrs Munsey.

Ancient witch, frightened to death by gentlemen detectives.

- Still alive. - We need some way of carrying her.

Wooden hurdles. Same as we used for Lady Pethwick

We're in practice, see.

I suspected it from the beginning.

It's classical in its purity.

The goat horns and the curious chanting.

There hasn't been a case like it for fifty years.

Modern civilisation gallops ahead all over the world,

and then you discover a patch that hasn't altered for three centuries.

The woman's a lunatic, of course.

But there's no doubt that she's descended

from a regular line of practising witches.

Nothing to worry about.

Your mother fainted in the wood.

I ain't done nothing.

That's what he's been doing.

I ain't done nothing!

Did your mother frighten people away so you could poach in the wood?

Oh, you leave him be!

Why should we leave him be, Mrs Munsey?

He ain't right!

He don't know how to take care of himself.

He couldn't catch nothing if I didn't scare them.

And why did you frighten Lady Pethwick?

I never!

Was it Sammy?

Curse you!

I curse by a right line, a crooked line.

A simple and a broken.

By flame, by wind, by water.

By a mass, by rain, by clay.

By a flying thing, by a creeping thing.

By a serpent, by an eye.

By a hand, by a foot, by a crown, by a cross!

By a sword, by a scourge,

I curse you!

You frightened Lady Pethwick to death.

When you saw what you'd done, you folded her hands and closed her eyes.

Why did you do it?

She always hid from the gentry.

She only chased country folk.

It was Daisy, what told her about her ladyship...

Never you listen to him.

He don't know nothing.

- Who's Daisy? - Daisy didn't mean for her to die.

Daisy said for to frighten her,

so she'd take to her bed for a day or two.

Who is Daisy?

You can't never blame Daisy!

I ain't done nothing!

Who is Daisy?

Pardon me sir, but I know who they mean.

Mrs Daisy. Mrs Daisy Shannon, as keeps the race horses.

Mrs Shannon, as keeps the racehorses.

Breakfast.

Breakfast.

I have to feed you, keep you alive. It's in my contract.

- Now, get a move on with it. - What time is it?

- Almost 4:00 in the afternoon. - Good Lord.

Now do you believe me about ghost hunting, eh?

It takes it out of you.

I can reliably inform you, your ten foot high goat was, in fact,

an old, bald-headed woman.

Think I'd rather have the goat.

Hurry up with your breakfast, you've got to telephone Inspector Oates.

- Why? - Because he wants to talk to you, that's why.

Left a message with me.

Secret code, of course.

On account he has no faith in my integrity.

- Which, bearing in mind... - Just give me the message.

Two o'clock this morning there was some sort of a gang fight in Bottle Street.

Fifteen a side, like one of your rugger matches.

In the course of which some bobby keeping guard on your flat,

- got bonked on his helmet. - Take it.

Whereupon a raid took place on your flat.

And several footpads and ne'er-do-wells took off

with whoever it was, as was dossing there.

And, whatever it was he was supposed to be looking after

while he was dossing there.

What about your breakfast?

Natty Johnson, Fingers Hawkins, and Ernie Walker for lunch.

I'll see you very soon.

You get us mixed up with a nice set, don't you?

Those are brown bottle and razor men you're talking about.

Bath, nap, car, in that order.

- Breakfast. - Breakfast in the bathroom.

Too late, I ate it.

All right if I come in here, Miss?

Of course, why shouldn't it be?

It's a bit off-limits for a humble servant.

Don't be silly.

But his nibs says I have to have a dicky-bird

in your shell-like.

Well, why don't you say what you have to say

and, I'll tell you whether I understand any of it.

Fair dues.

- Tell me what's happened. - Well see, there's

been a bit of a shemozzle on his manor

and he's having to go and sort it out.

- If he's not back by tomorrow... - Shemozzle on his manor

Seemingly.

Mr Lugg, the last thing I knew, my brother Val

was staying in Mr Campion's flat looking after the silver chalice.

That's right.

Is he still there? Is he safe?

I'm not in a position to divulge any details pertaining to the shemozzle.

Even supposing I knew any, which of course, I do not.

Thank you very much, Mr Lugg.

All we can do is carry out his orders and hope for the best.

I see, he left some orders.

Oh, it's always best, that.

Officer class, see.

If he's not back by tomorrow, we have to take the beard of the prophet to Mrs Sarah.

- The beard of the prophet? - To Mrs Sarah.

Who is Mrs Sarah?

She's the mother superior of a gang of gypos.

Gypsies?

- If you like. - And what is the beard of the prophet?

See here.

- May I look? - He said it is especially designed

according to an ancient gypsy recipe

whereby it don't open.

It all seems like total nonsense.

You know him, when's it ever seem like anything else?

And if it means having to go and see a gang of gypos, well, that's hard luck.

Don't you like gypsies?

With him, it's either knobs or nobodies.

And, I loathe the sight of the whole lot of them.

Begging your pardon, Miss, present company excepted.

Do you like anybody?

Present company excepted.

I wouldn't rule it as a possibility.

But I'd be hard put to name any names.

Some racing stables over there.

Yes, it is where Mrs Dick Shannon trains.

Mrs Shannon?

Is that the party as come snooping the day after your aunt died?

Voice like a foghorn, and nippy with it?

That's the one.

I hate women.

Especially in business.

Look at them.

You wouldn't catch me spending my life, living like this.

We've come to see a party. Name of Mrs Sarah.

Got a message for her.

Private and confidential.

Come here.

Who sent you, lady?

Orlando.

That's right. Orlando.

Don't worry, lady, Sarah knows.

Tomorrow. We shall be ready.

Goodbye, lady.

- Orlando? - One of his names.

Come on, the court is adjourned.

You've got a lucky face, my dear.

You'll get a fine husband.

But you won't get Orlando.

His nibs calls himself Orlando when he goes off with the gypos.

- Doesn't he take you with him? - No chance.

Leaves me at home to mind the jackdaw. That's the sort of man he is.

- And I'm not going to marry him. - Yes, you've done well there.

Unless you like jackdaws.

I've never given it much thought.

Will you drive the car back to the tower? I'll walk home later.

Always carry out orders with a cheerful smile.

- Where's your intrepid friend this morning? - You mean Orlando?

No, I mean Mr Campion.

He went off in a hurry last evening.

- Really? - Leaving us with the most extraordinary errand.

- Us? - I've been with Lugg to see

a sort of Gypsy Queen on the heath.

My mother said I should never play with the gypsies on the heath.

And she said something about tomorrow.

As if Albert had made a date or something.

A strange and mysterious man.

And I shall never marry him.

Really?

What's wrong?

Val!

Val!

I was at Campion's flat. I sat up late reading,

with the chalice in the suitcase, actually on my lap.

About 2:00 in the morning, I heard a fiendish commotion.

There was a street fight going on outside.

I was watching from the window when...

Somebody must have knocked me out.

- What happened next? - A parcel.

I came to,

only a couple of minutes later,

saw the chalice had gone and went out into the street.

I thought I recognised one of the men.

I followed him into some sort of

dive in Soho, an eating place, and into the back room.

Then I got a towel full of

ether or chloroform in my face.

- Ah, I can remember bits of things after that. - Now, take your time.

And then I woke up under the hedge.

Which seems to indicate they've finished with you.

- That was very strange. - What?

The postman left us this parcel.

When I looked at it, it's addressed to you, Val.

Oh, it's my birthday in two days' time.

It's probably something hideous from one of our relations.

Yes, but how did the postman know you were here?

I've stopped wondering about things like that.

Would you open it for me Penny?

If it's a birthday present, it shouldn't be opened until Wednesday.

Here.

Val, it's the chalice!

But who sent it?

I could make an educated guess on that subject,

but how you arrived in that field is beyond my comprehension.

Your buttonhole...

That's funny, I don't remember that, either.

I never put flowers in my buttonhole.

Would I be right in supposing that's it's a...

Yes, you would be right.

It's called a white Campion.

- What's that? - Ugh, countryside.

- Full of noises I don't understand. - No, there's someone there.

Open the door, damn it, one of you.

I don't believe it.

I can't be responsible for other peoples beliefs.

- Is he on his own? - I'll check.

What do you want, Campion?

A good tip for the Ascot Gold Cup.

Don't underestimate him. He isn't as dumb as he pretends.

Nobody could be that dumb.

There's nobody with him.

This is a very interesting place.

All those empty stables, only one horse.

Is that why you're playing cards, Mrs Shannon?

Hoping to win enough money to pay your debts.

Throw him out, somebody.

No, I think we should keep him here.

- I'd feel safer. - Do you like card tricks?

Or shall I tell your fortune, Mrs Shannon? You've got a lucky face.

Cut three times towards me and wish.

I see a queen surrounded by a pack of knaves.

I see them pursuing a crock of gold or even a pot of gold.

I see a fair young man,

standing between her and the pot of gold.

I see a silly old woman

and her even sillier son who might give the game away,

and perhaps they already have.

I see a lot of journeys.

I see a far journey.

Oh yes, most certainly,

you take the long road, Daisy.

Is that all you see?

No. I see a great many black cards.

I think there's a death in this for somebody.

Guess who?

Put him in the gate loft till afterwards.

It's a fair cop. I'll go quietly, governor.

I'd like a cell with a view, early morning call, tea,

and a copy of Sporting Life at, say, 8:30?

Get him out of here.

d Never wanted to

d Can't help it d

d Falling in love again d

Good evening.

You haven't shaved at all today.

Not much of a credit to the regiment.

I have to tell you, Mrs Shannon, that I can't honestly

recommend this place.

The bed creaks, the telephone doesn't work, room service is non-existent

and the staff are extremely rude.

Oh yes, and the people downstairs are very noisy.

- Otherwise it's fine. - Good!

And now I expect you've come to tell me, I have to wear an iron mask.

Well, I won't do it, I tell you, I won't do it.

Why did you come here?

I suppose curiosity.

About what?

You had a perfectly good chalice in your possession and you weren't satisfied.

I have guaranteed to obtain and deliver the genuine article.

Or die in the attempt. I think that's written into your contract too.

One of us has to die, certainly.

Forgive my asking, it's my natural curiosity and prejudice.

Are you thinking of killing me?

Not thinking, preparing.

This is Suffolk, you know, they take a dim view of corpses.

They call the police. They give evidence.

I shall leave it all to the people downstairs.

The people downstairs?

But...

The people downstairs appear to be a horse.

Yes. His name is Bitter Aloes.

I had to sell the others. But not this one.

He killed a stable boy last year.

He'll kill you.

And don't rely on your Gypsy friends coming to your rescue.

I turned them off the heath this morning.

Take me to your stable. I'm actually rather good with animals.

Stay where you are.

Campion, are you there?

Never has the sight of a professor been more welcome.

Here.

That's it. Easy now.

Go on boy.

Don't tell me. Let me guess. I was about to be executed by a horse,

and you just happened to be passing.

Penny told me about the gypsies, the chalice turned up in the post,

Val turned up on the hedge wearing a white flower.

I decided to take a cycle ride to the heath.

I found your car parked, not far from here.

The tyres have been slashed by the way.

You can't trust anyone nowadays. I blame talking pictures.

So, I wandered down here, to investigate a little further.

"Good day Mrs Shannon, Is it true you're planning to murder my old chum

- "Albert Campion?" - "Good day to you, Mrs Shannon.

"Would you be interested in buying a few yearlings from bonny Scotland?"

"No, not buying at the moment?

"Well, in that case, may I have a wee look around your stables?

"Don't let me drag you away from urgent business. I'll see myself off the premises."

I hid in a loose box for a couple of hours.

Then I heard her interviewing you.

- Did she do that? - Making a point in the cut and thrust of debate.

What next?

- Muggy Mathews... - Come again?

Muggy Mathews, one of the best cat burglars in the business.

He can climb up a sheer face of running water.

That's how they're gonna steal the chalice. The real chalice.

- Lower a rope from the roof. - Eight o'clock.

- Is that significant? - Watch.

Campion, I do believe this is the dirtiest fighting I've ever seen.

There are historical reasons for it.

In the red corner, gypsies, in the blue corner, race gangs.

They have a long history of ideological disputes.

Your people seem to be doing rather well. Will they get away with it?

They never kill. They're more for modified disabling.

Looked at objectively, it's difficult to see, how Mrs Shannon

can raise a posse to steal the chalice on this occasion.

I'm inclined to agree.

- I think the boys are finished. - We're deeply indebted.

- Pleasure. - What happened to the woman?

The Donna? Went off in her little green motor.

Aiming to make the Mexican border before nightfall, I expect.

She took the rope with her.

- The rope? - Is she going somewhere?

Yes. The tower.

- I'll have to go after her. - We can take you in the bus.

You boys should scarper quick. I'll see you at Hull Fair.

- Uh, Campion? - What is it?

- Orlando? - Yes?

We provide transport.

Jacob, I deeply appreciate your concern, but...

That horse kills people.

- Joey fixed it. - Your job, being a hero.

His job, fighting with people. My job, fixing horses.

I've fixed hundreds of horses.

Fix them win, fix them lose, fix them each way.

You fix him not to kill me.

He'll not kill no one for two hours. Promise.

Come back, Mrs Shannon.

- Come back before it's too late. - Go to Hell!

Come back before you look into that room or I swear, I'll cut this rope.

- You wouldn't dare. You haven't the courage. - Come back.

For God's sake, come back.

Sorry. Too busy.

No... You can't be...

Hold on.

No, I'm sorry.

- No. - Hold on. Hold on...

Did you know about Mrs Shannon from the beginning?

I thought she might be in it.

She was head over heels in debt,

and about to lose her jockey club licence.

She desperately needed a big winner.

As big as the chalice.

And what were all those bohemians about?

They hoped to learn enough about the chalice to make a copy

and persuade Val to organise the exchange.

When I was down on my luck.

Which no longer applies.

Which no longer applies.

I think true love must be considered an acceptable by-product of the assignment.

Assignment?

Yes.

I may give the impression of being a gilded amateur,

a gentleman rather than a player,

but I've passed among you as a vulgar professional.

At the appropriate time, and with great discretion,

money will change hands.

Guineas, of course.

But who employed you?

Sorry, ma'am. Not at liberty to say.

Could this be a clue?

Here. See who's come? Orders are for you to report to the library,

5:00 sharp.

And wear something decent, eh? Show a bit of respect.

Have you ever considered showing respect?

Considered it.

But I reckon showing respect weren't invented for the likes of me.

And the said representative of her gracious majesty or her heirs,

shall go up into the chamber accompanied by the master and his eldest son,

providing he be of sufficient age,

and they shall show him and prove to his satisfaction

that the treasure that they hold in the stead of the crown

be whole and free from blemish.

Further, we also command that in times of trouble,

or such days as the house of Gyrth may be in danger,

the master shall allow two witnesses to go with them,

strong men and true, sworn to keep faith and all secrecy as to the treasure,

and the manner of its keeping.

Given under our hand and seal, this day, and so on.

I think that covers the matter, Colonel.

Of course, I understand, my dear Campion,

that strictly speaking, the days of danger are passed.

But I think we might permit a small deviation in the somewhat archaic formula.

And it seems to me the only courtesy, Professor,

that we can extend to you for your courageous assistance in this distressing affair.

I can think of no greater hon our.

...His twenty-fifth birthday.

Now, there is another tradition to which we must adhere.

The entrance to the chamber is a closely guarded secret

known only to my predecessors and the Colonel's,

and soon, of course, to his son.

I feel sure I shall offend neither of you if I ask you to wear one of these.

Remove the blindfolds.

What a lovely, lovely thing.

I see it now, just beautiful.

I couldn't understand why I wasn't told at the beginning about the second chalice.

My boss is a man of very conservative ideas,

and having taken an oath of secrecy, he couldn't break it.

He had to let me find out for myself.

I'm sorry, Campion, I wasn't paying attention.

It doesn't matter.

I was entertaining an unworthy thought, the chalice...

Oh, what a piece of work.

Has cost heaven knows how many lives over the centuries.

And, you know, I think it's worth it.

But what did she see? And why did she say those things?

"No you can't be."

The light was shining directly on the figure, the head was upraised.

"No, you can't be" alive?

And let me offer the thought that on the night, the visor was up.

She saw the face.

It may be a very shocking sight.

But did she hear a voice?

We all hear voices from time to time.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Orlando.

THEME MUSIC PLAYING...

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