All language subtitles for Partners in Crime s01e05 The Clergymans Daughter.eng

[Upbeat music]

[Whimsical music]

[Wind howling]

Did you and Mr. Hove

enjoy your walk into
town this afternoon?

Have you noticed
how the light drops

and then returns?

[Chuckling] I can't
say that I have.

Not yet, but last
night in our room,

just before the
mirror shattered,

suddenly an icy cold,

and then the lights
almost went out.

I expect Mrs. Hove,

that it is because
you are unused to gas,

it does tend to go up and down.

Among the first, we were,

in Manchester,
to be electrified.

Oh Manchester, Edmund.

Our little house,
oh, our little nest.

Always a wrench, moving.

Something you'll have
to face soon my dear,

when we are married.

It's quite unusual
in the country

to have it at all.

The gas, I mean.

My late aunt spent a great deal

of money laying it on.

Should have waited
for the electric.

Afraid, Mr. Hove,

that had my aunt done
so we might be eating

this meal by candlelight.

[Clattering]

Oh dear!

Oh, no please.

Oh, I'm so sorry,

the catch on the window

must have given way again.

I did ask the gardener
to look at it for me,

but he's so deaf.

[Crashing]

Heavens!

I mean, something
must've fallen over.

Better let me go first,
Monica, just in case.

In case of what, Norman?

It's nothing, I tell you,

nothing that can't be explained.

[Dramatic music]

Oh, Edmund.

Edmund!

[Dramatic music]

[Wind howling]

My things!

All my beautiful clothes!

[Edmund] Gone
Bella, they're gone!

[Bella] What?

He's right Mrs. Hove,
the wardrobe's empty.

Oh, there you are.

Look, they're all laid out.

[Bella sighing]

[Bella gasping]

What the heck?

Cut to shreds, Edmund!

It's a sign.

They've been to murder us.

Well, that's it.

That's it, I'm leaving.

I'm not gonna stay in
this house another night.

It is haunted!

[Edmund] But Bella,
we paid for the fortnight!

[Bella] You stay.

[Edmund] What about our things?

Who?

Why?

I think you may safely
assume that someone

wishes you to leave
the red house, my dear.

[Clattering]

Don't touch.

It's glass, Tommy.

Don't want blood

on the Christmas
tree now, do we?

Well I don't know.

Might be rather suitable
for a detective agency.

Blunt's bloody bureau.

[Tuppence] Tommy!

Sorry, I think I
got carried away.

Yes, well perhaps
you'd carry this away.

We've client due any moment

and Albert's not back
yet to show her in.

Oh, how sad.

I remember every
Christmas at the vicarage

I used to help
father hang these.

There used to be 12.

Well cheer up,
still got 11 left.

Nine.

Oh, you?

No, Albert.

He insisted on helping me start.

There's a Valentino season

at the Rex picture house

and you know the
phase he's going through.

Tango dancing.

Do you know he's
seen blood and sand

every night this week?

He came in, he
picked up an ornament,

did a violent turn,

letting it fly out of his hand,

as though it had
a life of its own.

[Both laughing]

[Albert humming]

Oh, hello, sir.

Miss tuppence.

I got the tea and
some sandwiches.

Turkey, very nice.

I gave you half
a crown, I think.

- Think.
- And I give you ninepence.

Senorita.

Is there going to
be Mr. Valentino

all through Christmas, Albert?

If so, I don't think
I can stand it!

Sorry, miss.

It's just that the
films are so real.

Much more colourful than life.

Oi!

Oh, and here you
are at the very centre

of one of britain's

most celebrated
detective agencies.

Really, Albert?

How can you be so ungrateful?

Oh, it's not that, sir.

Well, I realise only too well

how important my work is here.

When I see Rudolph
Valentino grab nita naldi

and sweep her
into that fiery tango,

well, they're so reckless.

Precisely.

Hardly seasonal though, Albert.

Dreaming of sun and sand,

when it's more likely

to be snow and sleet outside.

Now is the time of year

for spirits to
fill the night air.

Tales by the chimney breast.

Ghosts of time past.

And predictions for the future.

We used to play
that at the vicarage

when I was a child.

You'd write something down

you thought might
happen, seal it,

and not open it again

until the following Christmas.

I say.

What a wait.

Oh, only the first year, Tommy.

Let's do one now, ma.

You write something
down, and I'll hide it

until next year.

I'll do better than that.

I'll predict something
that's imminent.

[Albert] Cor!

I was always rather
good at this sort of thing.

I predict that our
next client will be

a clergyman's daughter.

[Tommy chuckling]

How did you know?

[Suspenseful music]

Mr. Blunt, I've always
believed myself

to be a reasonably
logical, sane person.

Yet circumstances are
beginning to force me

to the conclusion

that my home may be haunted.

You mean you've seen
a ghost, miss deane?

Well, not seen, exactly, heard.

Terrible crashing.

Crockery flying across the room.

Pictures falling.

The lights going up and down.

[Tuppence] A poltergeist.

Excuse me?

That's what they're called.

Sort of evil spirits
that play tricks.

Oh!

I think, miss deane,

if we could begin
at the beginning.

Oh, well it's such
a rambling story.

Let's see.

My father was rector

of little hampsley in Suffolk.

Three years ago, he died.

My mother and I
were left very badly off.

[Knocking on door]

[Tommy] I'm so sorry.

Come in!

I believe a cup of tea
was requested, sir?

Yes, Albert, will
you kindly hand it

to miss deane?

And that will be all.

Yes, sir.

Please, continue, miss deane.

Well, at first I
went out to work

as a governess.

But my mother soon
became a confirmed invalid,

I had to come home
to look after her.

We lived in tiny but
expensive lodgings,

and were desperately poor.

Until one day, our
fortune seemed to change.

We received a lawyer's letter,

telling us that an aunt
of my father's had died,

and had left everything to me.

I'd often heard of this aunt,

who'd quarrelled with my
father many years earlier,

and knew that she
was very well off.

So it really seemed our
troubles were at an end.

But matters didn't turn out

quite as well as we hoped.

I did inherit the red house,

which was where she lived.

But after paying one or two

small legacies she'd made,

well, there was no
money left to live on.

You two had believed
your aunt to be rich.

Indeed I had, Mr. Blunt.

I suppose she must've
lost it during the war,

or perhaps she'd just
been living on the capital.

Still, we had the house.

It's a large rambling place,

the town is over a mile away,

so we're quite remote, really.

I suppose it's
called the red house

because of the brick.

Although the locals
tell more lurid tales.

[Tommy] You don't
look to me the sort of girl

who listens to village
gossip, miss deane.

No, I just feel so...

Oh.

Miss Robinson
appears to have been

rather carried
away by your story.

- Oh, how dreadful.
- It's quite all right.

Perhaps you could
squeeze another cup

out of Albert.

You know how he
listens to you, Mr. Blunt.

Oh.

Yes.

Yes, I'll certainly try.

If you'll excuse me.

[Tommy chuckling uneasily]

Now, come on, miss deane.

Out with it.

Is it a man?

How could you know that?

Happens to everyone,
happened to me.

Oh!

[Tuppence] Tell me about
this man, miss deane.

Well, you see, there
are two of them.

Oh, that didn't happen to me.

I suppose one rich, one
poor, and the poor one's

the one you like.

[Monica] I don't know
how you know these things.

Sort of law of
nature. [Chuckling]

There's Norman.

Mr. Partridge.

He was with me the night
the wardrobe overturned

and the hoves'
clothes were shredded.

He's kind,
considerate, and rich.

A good man, I'm
sure, if I married him,

all our troubles would be over,

it's just that...

You don't love him.

[Whispering] No.

[Tuppence] Tell me
about the one you do.

Gerald.

He's a dear.

Desperately poor,
though a clever engineer.

We came up today in his car.

He made it himself.

I expect, if you look
out of the window,

you'll be able to see him.

[Car engines roaring]

I understand your
preference. [Chuckling]

Here we are.

Now, then, miss deane,
tell us what it is exactly

that makes you suspect foul play

of a more earthly order.

It's the offers I've
had for the house.

To purchase?

Yes.

Even before we moved,
I received by letter,

a most generous offer.

Then, shortly after we moved in,

I was still varnishing the hall.

[Chuckling] We had
decided that the only way

we could keep on the house

was by taking in paying guests.

It was Crockett's day off,

and I was desperately
trying to finish off alone,

before the first
visitors arrived, when...

[Doorbell ringing]

[Suspenseful music]

Good afternoon.

I've called to see
your mistress.

I wonder if you
would inform her.

My name is smart.

Percival smart.

Oh, still decorating, I see.

Mr. Smart, I am she,
the owner of the house.

Can I help you?

Ah, miss deane?

Mm.

Oh.

I've been told the
house is for sale,

and I might be interested.

Mind you, big place,
difficult to heat, I expect.

[Chuckling] Still.

I'm afraid you've been misled.

I should be prepared

to make a most generous offer,

which if invested wisely...

Mr. Smart, this
house is not for sale!

I intend to run it as a
business proposition.

My first guests
arrive next week.

[Dramatic music]

Our first visitors
were two couples.

The busby's had
seen our advertisement

in the home finder,
and the young couple

by the name of cockwell,

quite recently
married, I suspected,

had heard of us through friends.

They'd all retired early.

I read to mother as usual,

and settled her
down for the night.

By the time I was ready
to take her tray down,

the church clock was
beginning to strike 12:00.

I had some sound coming
from the cockwell's room

as I passed, but nothing
out of the ordinary.

I was about halfway
down the stairs, when.

[Crashing]

[Woman screaming]

- Oh!
- [Clattering]

[Dramatic music]

[Screaming]

[Busby] Whatever's
happened, miss deane?

It's all right, Mr. Busby,

there's nothing to worry about.

[Woman screaming]

They all left early next day.

I could hardly charge them.

And now there were the repairs

to pay for as well.

[Suspenseful music]

Upon inspection, it
did seem as though

the four poster had
been just cut through.

It was after three more
sets of guests had fled,

following similar happenings,

that I received my
third offer for the house.

A Dr. O'Neill called to see me.

Told me he was a member

of the society for
psychical research.

That he had heard about
the curious manifestations

at the house, and was
much interested by it.

So much so that he
wanted to buy the house,

in order to conduct

a series of experiments there.

First I was thrilled,
and said so.

He smiled broadly at
me, and my blood ran cold.

[O'Neill chattering]

[Tuppence] What was it?

What did you see?

[Monica] His filling.

A gold filling.

Yes?

Well, perhaps
you'll think it fanciful

of me, but...

What?

[Monica] It was the same man.

The same man what?

The same man that
wanted to buy it before.

Mr. Smart!

I remember quite clearly
when he smiled at me,

he had a gold filling

in exactly the same place.

Then I looked at his ears.

They were just the
same as Mr. Smart's.

A peculiar shape
with hardly any lobe.

Well, I'm sure I
hadn't made a mistake.

It was the same man.

This Crockett that
you've mentioned,

miss deane, he's your Butler?

[Chuckling] Oh, no, I'm sorry,

I didn't make it clear,

no, Crockett is a she.

She was with my aunt
for about eight or 10 years.

A middle aged woman.

Not always very
pleasant in manner,

but a good servant.

She is inclined to
give herself airs,

because her sister
married out of her station.

Crockett has a nephew

who she's always telling us

is quite the gentleman.

[Knocking on door]

Come in.

[Clearing throat]
Sorry to interrupt, sir.

A Mr. Rush is
inquiring on miss deane.

Gerald.

Gerald?

Gerald.

Drove her up in his
car, made it himself.

I see.

Well, I think that's all,

for the moment, miss deane.

Now remember, there's no
need to be afraid anymore.

Blunt's brilliant detectives
are on the job now.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Blunt.

What a wait.

Oh, there is just one thing.

- Yes?
- Your fee.

I was wondering...

Oh, strictly on results.

Stop worrying.

You've been through
quite enough already.

Hadn't we better have

miss deane's full
address, Mr. Blunt?

Oh, of course.

The red house,
starton in the marsh.

When will you arrive?

[Tommy] Unexpectedly,
miss deane.

But remember, you
have never met me before.

Either of us.

Oh!

[Birds tweeting]

[Suspenseful music]

[Car engine roaring]

[Suspenseful music]

[Car door slamming]

But miss deane
made no mention to me

of a party staying
over the Christmas.

That is a matter
for you to take up

with your employer.

Her ladyship made the
reservation personally.

Here she is.

And here she is
likely to remain.

Thinking of buying it, see?

This house?

The same.

- But hasn't she heard about...
- The poltergeist?

Oh, yeah.

You ask me, that's the
reason she's so set on it.

Funny woman.

Oh well, I'll be
off to the station

to collect her
husband, Mr. Beresford.

Mr. Beresford?

I thought you said
she was lady grasmere.

That's right.

Born to a title she
ain't letting go of

for no marriage.

Money's all his, though.

Now don't you forget,
a pot of Earl grey,

and plenty of hot water.

Right away.

[Suspenseful music]

Now tell me again, Tommy,

exactly as the bank
manager told you.

That on the outbreak of war,

Monica's aunt
withdrew all her assets

in gold and cash, and
brought them back here.

So they must be
hidden on the premises.

Yes, and someone else knows it.

Which explains all
the offers for the house.

You surely don't think she
would have hidden them

under the mattress
in the guest room?

'Course not, goose.

[Laughing] Then what
are you looking for?

An uneventful night's sleep.

Last time this thing collapsed,

Monica deane said it appeared

to have been cut through.

I'm just making
sure we don't suffer

a repeat performance.

I'm very much
afraid the four posters

always have an effect on me.

Always?

I couldn't possibly permit

an uneventful night
in a four poster.

Tuppence, start concentrating

that fertile mind of yours

on finding this
beastly treasure.

Now, you are a woman.

A neglected one.

Oh, nonsense.

Anyway, you're far
more likely than I

to know where an old
lady would hide things.

Same place as a young lady.

Tuppence, really?

Talking of ladies,
by the way, how is it

that in our disguised form,

I remain playing Mr.,
whilst you assume a title.

I thought it a
perfect opportunity

to see how it might've
felt had I married Graham.

[Laughing] You'll
find a lot more

to put up with married
to Graham grasmere

than a title.

A lot less, too, if my
information is correct.

Tommy, you can be very cruel.

A-ha.

The clergyman's
daughter has returned.

She's in for another shock

when she finds
out who's arrived.

She's 25, I'm
sure she'll manage.

Oh, look, there's Gerald.

Isn't he adorable?

[Tommy] Mm.

Engaged, you say?

[Tuppence] Not yet.

That's our job.

[Tommy] I see.

[Tuppence] Oh, Tommy,
we must help them.

We'll certainly try.

We'll have to work fast.

Once Crockett and that
precious nephew of hers

get their hands on this house,

they'll turn it upside down

till they find what they want.

Ah, good, tea.

Yes, but tuppence,
an old lady could hardly

have dug holes in the garden,

or pulled up
floorboards on her own.

I know, and she'd
never trusted anyone

enough to help her.

Tommy, there must be a clue

amongst her possessions.

Oh, come on, old
thing, I'm starving.

Let's go and
surprise our hostess.

[Tuppence] From the very moment

I entered your house, miss?

Deane.

Of course, miss deane.

I felt as though I
had come to rest.

Although rest is hardly a word

one would use to describe
someone possessed,

perhaps cursed,
with psychic power.

Oh.

Crockett, leave the
tea, I'll pour the rest.

I mounted your staircase
as though in a trance.

And without knowledge,

I was simply drawn to the room

that we will now occupy.

And all around me,

I sense the presence
of an unhappy child,

wilful and full of spite,

but in reality, longing
for eternal rest.

I say, old, girl.

Mrs. Patrick Campbell
had better look

to her laurels.

I thought you were wonderful.

But why...

An impression created?

Seeds sown.

[Suspenseful music]

Oh, but surely you
can't think that...

Have you ever met

your servant's
nephew, miss deane?

No.

Oh!

10 to one he has
a large gold filling

in his tooth.

[Tuppence] And
possesses little ear lobe.

Oh.

[Tommy] Now then, miss deane.

Oh, Monica.

Monica.

Can you tell me what became

of your late aunt's
personal belongings?

Garments?

There were only a few.

Some were given to Crockett.

The rest sent to
various poor families.

Everything has been gone
through and turned out.

Papers.

There must have been papers.

Yes, the desk was full,

and there was some in her drawer

in her bedroom, but
there were nothing

of importance amongst them.

Have they been thrown away?

No.

My mother is always very loathe

to throw away any old papers,

there were some
old fashioned recipes

amongst them, which she intends

to go through one day.

- Good.
- Was that gardener

here in your aunt's time?

Is it old frank mulberry?

Yes.

Poor old fellow.

He's past doing any
really useful work,

we have him once a week

just to keep things tidied.

We can't afford more.

He used to come three times.

Perhaps, Monica, if
you will be good enough

to collect up all your
aunt's old papers for me,

whilst we have a
word with old mulberry.

[Birds tweeting]

All along there it went.

As far as you can see.

It were all cockerels
and peacocks end to end.

Deepest green you ever saw.

Green cockerels?

Topiary.

Like sculpture, it were.

Well, my specialty, my lady.

Proper artist, I was
with them shears.

But now, all these old hands

is good for is holding a
glass of ale. [Chuckling]

When I can afford it.

The old lady was lucky
to have you, mulberry.

Ah.

Let the place go to
wrack and ruin they did,

once she were cold.

And those boys from
the council houses,

they set fire to it.

But I knows all their names.

Yes, but while she was alive,

she must've depended
on you totally.

Ah.

Everything that
went on in the garden.

All her little secrets
shared with you.

Maybe.

Like the unusual
things she got you

to Bury for her.

The box, for instance.

Box?

Yes, the box.

Thank you very much, sir.

Well, let's see now.

Box, you said.

[Tuppence and Tommy] Yes.

'Fraid I can't help you there.

[Tommy] Why not?

'Cause I never buried
no box, that's why not.

Oh, but I, I thought...

Potatoes, carrots,
fine spring onions,

plenty of them.

But I never buried no boxes.

They don't come up well,
do you see? [Laughing]

[Tuppence laughing]

[Suspenseful music]

Oh.

I say, miss deane, is
anything the matter?

Partridge.

Beresford.

My wife, lady grasmere.

Oh, forgive me, I
should have done that.

Mr. Partridge is
my financial advisor

and good friend.

Mr. Beresford and lady
grasmere are house guests.

Oh, I didn't realise
you'd be occupied.

You're staying for Christmas?

That is written in the
ethers, Mr. Partridge.

Lady grasmere is a student

of psychic phenomena, Norman.

Gracious me.

Another one.

You'll soon be charging
admission, Monica.

We shall, of course,
expect to pay the going rate

for our stay, Mr. Partridge.

I shall be in touch
with you shortly,

for your decision.

Good afternoon.

[Tommy] Good afternoon.

What is it, what's happened?

Norman tells me
that the bank intends

to foreclose on our loan.

Within two weeks,
our remaining funds

will have disappeared.

Broke, eh?

And that, I take it,

is a financially secure
alternative to Gerald.

He's awfully
clever with figures.

He must be swift to tell a girl,

when she's none
left, to be clever with.

Wants me to marry him.

What am I to do?

There's mother to think
of, and it's Christmas.

Get a grip, Monica.

You're not alone anymore.

No.

And we mean to get to
the bottom of this case.

Now then, have you
collected together

all your aunt's
old papers for me?

Yes, I put them
upstairs in your room.

[Crashing]

Oh!

If one garment is shredded!

[Dramatic music]

The poltergeist up
to its tricks again.

[Dramatic music]

Monica, fetch her
quickly, please.

Not my clothes,
Tommy, not my clothes,

they're all hired and
we'd never recover.

Not unless we've taken

to wearing a jug
and basin, my sweet.

Your things are quite safe.

Come, lady grasmere.

Settle yourself in here
and await the vibrations.

[Suspenseful music]

This way, Crockett please.

Shh!

[Whispering] My
wife is just returning.

I must have it.

Tommy, we must
purchase this property.

You see?

Confirmation.

It looks as though you
have definitely found

a purchaser, miss deane.

So kind of you to bring
your housekeeper in.

Now then, Crockett, as
you may have gathered,

my wife and I have decided

to purchase the red house.

We should be delighted
if you would consent

to stay on and
keep house for us.

Thank you, sir.

I should like to
think it over, if I may.

[Tommy] Certainly.

Will that be all, ma'am?

Thank you, Crockett.

I'll clear the tea things.

Of course.

So perhaps, miss deane,

if you would be kind enough

to inform the other bidder

that the property is now sold.

Oh, but...

Oh, forgive me, but I do know

what he is offering. [Laughing]

It's a good price,

but I propose to
offer £100 more.

Well...

Oh, what is this talk of money?

It must not be allowed
to stand in the way

of spiritual experience.

The forces around us compel me

to remain at all earthly costs.

Stow it, old bean,

- coast is clear.
- Oh, really, Mr. Beresford,

you have no consideration

for an artist's finer feelings.

[Both laughing]

No, really, I was beginning

to quite enjoy it. [Laughing]

Yes, I noticed.

I thought you
were both first rate.

But why did you want
Crockett so sudden?

Just to make quite
sure, miss deane.

- Monica.
- Monica.

Did you notice how
out of breath she was?

That proves that
she's your poltergeist.

Just had time to escape
down my back staircase

after smashing the jug
and basin in our room.

But the lights dimming,

the windows flying
open, and the cold air.

Crockett's often been present

when these things happen.

Yes.

Well, I haven't
worked out how yet,

but the who is fairly obvious.

[Suspenseful music]

[Owls hooting]

[Suspenseful music]

[Tommy] [Sighing]
That's the third time

you've been through that box.

I know.

Better move away
from that fire, Tommy,

you'll drop off.

Oh, well I'm taking it slow,

because I'm testing
for invisible ink.

Shows up against the heat.

Not so far, darling.

Anything in particular
struck you yet?

Two receipted bills,
three unimportant letters,

one recipe for
preserving new potatoes,

and one for lemon cheesecake.

Ugh.

What's the matter?

Food.

You know I can't think
on an empty stomach.

Oh, you missed
lunch too, didn't you?

Mm.

Although, I must say,

when I think back on
Albert's magnificent hamper,

well, I'm quite
grateful not to...

Still, look what
it's going to prove.

Oh yes, I know.

Crockett's guilt.

Appalling food and no spooks,

a winning combination
to confirm it.

I'd still rather have
had a good dinner.

Well throw yourself
into your work.

Come on, read me yours.

One bill.

One poem on spring.

Two newspaper articles,

"why women buy pearls,
a sound investment",

and "man with four
wives, extraordinary story."

Oh, and a recipe
for jugged hare.

Four wives?

Mm.

Oh, and I put this aside,

because it struck
me as peculiar.

Although I don't
suppose it's got anything

to do with what
we're looking for.

Let's have a look.

Oh, it's one of those
funny things, you know,

what do you call them?

Anagrams, or
charades, or something.

My first you put
on glowing coal,

and into it you put my hole.

My second really is the first,

my third mislikes
the winter blast.

Mm, don't think much
of the poet's rhyme.

Don't see what's so
peculiar about it, though.

Everyone used to collect

that sort of thing
about 50 years ago.

Save them up for an
evening round the fire.

I wasn't referring to the verse,

it's the words below it

that struck me as peculiar.

Look, Luke 11, verse nine.

It's a text.

Yes, I know.

But doesn't that
strike you as odd?

I mean, would an old lady

of a religious persuasion

write a text, just
under a charade?

Yes, I suppose
that is rather odd.

I suppose that you,

being a clergyman's daughter,

haven't got your Bible with you.

As a matter of fact I have.

- Ah.
- Didn't expect that, did you?

[Tommy clearing throat]

Now, let's see.

[Muttering] My first
you put on glowing coal.

Luke, Luke, Luke,
Luke, chapter 11.

- And into it you put my hole.
- Verse nine.

Seven, eight and nine.

Tommy!

Tommy, look!

Seek and he shall find.

That's it!

We've got it!

Oh, Tommy, isn't that wonderful?

Solve the cryptogram,
and the treasure's ours.

Well, Monica's.

[Both laughing]

[Tommy] Yes.

Well, let's get to work
on this cryptogram,

or whatever it is you call it.

Now, my first you
put on glowing coal.

Now what does
that mean, I wonder?

And into it you put my hole.

It's pure gibberish.

[Tuppence] It's
quite simple, really.

It's just a knack, my
love, give it to me.

My first you put
on glowing coal.

Glowing coal, glowing coal.

"Quite simple really."

Don't crow, it's just that

I'm the wrong
generation, that's all.

I have a good mind to take it

up to town tomorrow.

Let some old pussy have a go.

Probably solve
it quick as a wink.

Perhaps you'd like to take it

to Monica's mother.

Or downstairs, to that
old ragged Crockett.

Bet she'd solve it
in novel quick time.

[Tommy] All right,
come on, then.

Let's have another try.

Now there aren't many things

you can put on glowing coal.

Water to put it out.

Wood.

Or, a kettle.

Has to be one
syllable, I suppose.

How about wood then?

Mm, couldn't put
anything into wood, though.

Well, there's no
one syllable word

- instead of water.
- [Tuppence muttering]

But there must be
one syllable things

you can put on a fire.

In the kettle, then.

Saucepan.

Frying pan.

How about pan?

Or pot.

Think of a word
beginning pan or pot

that is something you can cook.

Pottery.

Well you can
bake that on a fire,

wouldn't that be near enough?

No, no.

The rest doesn't fit.

Pancakes.

Pancakes, that would do,

no, no, oh, bother!

[Suspenseful music]

Trouble is, I'm so
hungry. I can hardly think.

You saying pancakes has rather

brought it all back again.

What a rotten dinner.

Or lack of it.

Minuscule strip of
mutton and one veg.

Swede.

Faithfully cooked to
an old school recipe.

No potatoes, no carrots,

not even a Brussels sprout.

What's the matter, old bean?

That's it!

The word, I mean, potato!

My first you put on
glowing coal, pot.

And into it you put my hole,

my second really
is the first, that's a.

Pot a, the first
letter of the alphabet.

My third mislikes
the winter blast.

Cold toes!

[Chuckling] Of course!

Potatoes!

Very clever.

Only trouble is we've wasted

an awful lot of
time over nothing.

You see, potatoes don't fit in

at all with missing treasure.

Wait a sec, though!

To keep new potatoes.

Put the new potatoes in tins,

and Bury them in the garden.

Even in the middle of winter,

they will taste as
though freshly dug!

Tuppence, you're a miracle!

[Both laughing]

To think it's just out there,

waiting for us to dig up!

Oh, yes.

Oh yes, but not just now.

The morning will be soon enough.

Oh, but I'm much too
excited to sleep now.

Oh, good. [Laughing]

[Both laughing]

Oh, Tommy.

Tuppence.

[Both laughing]

[Suspenseful music]

I still don't understand
why that gardener

misled us so yesterday.

Oh, he didn't mean to,

he just didn't answer
you correctly, that's all.

What are you talking about?

Well haven't you noticed?

People never really
answer what you say,

they answer what they think

you really mean instead.

He knew he hadn't
buried anything

out of the ordinary,
just potatoes!

Oh, come on.

[Tuppence gasping]

[Suspenseful music]

Tommy.

[Tommy] Someone appears to have

been here already.

But how could they know?

Do you think they
found the treasure?

Well, if they haven't,

it was never here
in the first place.

[Suspenseful music]

Oh, goodness me,
what long faces.

Was the bed in the dressing room

so uncomfortable, Mr. Blunt?

I bet you'll never
guess what this is.

A note from Dr. O'Neill.

He's increasing
his offer by £150.

Is he, by jove?

[Bell tinkling]

Oh, goodness me.

Mother's bell.

Oh, look at the time,

and I haven't taken
her tray up yet.

She's got a Christmas card.

That'll buck her
up, poor darling.

Ghost of a chance, tuppence.

A ghost!

The race is on again.

And this time, I mean us to win.

Hello!

Here comes our second
piece of good luck today.

You know what to ask him.

Give him the treatment.

Off you go.

Oh, and head him off,

before he sees
the kitchen garden

and has a seizure.

[Tuppence gasping]

Oh, Mr. Mulberry, good morning!

Oh, what a surprise,

I thought you only
came once a week now.

Ah, I just came
for my box, m'lady.

Box?

But I thought you said...

No, no, no, no.

Not the kinda box you
was asking about yesterday.

My Christmas box.

Oh, of course.

Do you mind if I walk with you?

No, I don't mind.

I'm just off down to
see my vegetables.

[Suspenseful music]

Nothing quite like
a Christmas dinner.

Except sometimes, I wish

we could have
different vegetables

to the conventional
sprouts, the roasts.

New potatoes,
now wouldn't they be

delicious with Turkey?

Do people around here
ever Bury them in tins?

I've heard that
keeps them fresh?

Oh, aye, that they do, m'lady.

Old miss deane, she
always had three tins

buried every summer.

And as often as not
forgot to have 'em

dug up again.

Oh, in the large bed

in the kitchen
garden, wasn't it?

Oh, no, no, no, m'lady.

'Twas just there, by that wall.

[Suspenseful music]

Ooh.

Mr. Mulberry.

That's the Meadow.

[Crockett] That's the wood.

I can't dig out there.

What's she up to?

Soon find out, won't we?

Got to tell someone, hasn't she?

[Panting] Tommy.

Tommy, Tommy, I found...

[dramatic music]

[Coughing]

[Both laughing]

Oh, Tommy, that was brilliant.

How did you discover it?

Monica said that the curtains

were always blown outward.

Normally, with an open window,

the cold air would
blow them inward.

I just noticed the
central heating vents,

and it all added up.

Masterly.

Thank you.

Anyway, what were you doing?

Getting poor old mulberry

pointing every which way?

You were watching?

Well so was someone else,

at least I'm pretty
sure they were.

I suddenly got the
most creepy feeling.

So when he told me
where he'd hidden the tins,

I simply asked him
where the sun Rose,

where it set, and
whereabouts in the sky

you could see the plough.

Quick thinking, tuppence.

Thanks.

When do you think it'll
safe to start digging?

Not until after dark.

I intend to invest
reinforcements.

Monica's Gerald can
stand lookout for us,

with the help of
one other, of course.

[Birds tweeting]

[Suspenseful music]

[Owls hooting]

Surveillance, Mr. Rush.

That's our game.

Always the prelude
to an exciting climax.

Did you see lon
chaney in the blackbird?

He was this limehouse
thief, you see.

He used a second
identity, a cripple,

to spy on the houses
he was gonna burgle.

Anyway, one night,
after he killed a copper,

he takes up his
disguise as usual.

Finds his joints all lock.

Permanent!

It was so dramatic.

I'll never forget the
look on his face when...

[suspenseful music]

[Spade clattering]

I never knew digging
could sound so loud.

I say, Tommy.

What?

Out here at night,
one could almost start

to believe the stories
about that house.

[Suspenseful music]

[Thudding]

[Gerald groaning]

[Suspenseful music]

[Twig snapping]

[Owls hooting]

[Tuppence puffing]

Tuppence!

[Tuppence gasping]

[Clattering]

[Tuppence sighing]

Go on digging.

[Man] You call out,
you're a dead man.

[Clattering]

[Both sighing]

Damn.

Third time lucky.

I believe the whole
thing's a mare's nest.

[Dramatic music]

[Panting and groaning]

Thank you, Houdini.

[Clattering]

[Sighing] Potatoes.

No, wait a minute, Tommy.

They're only potatoes on top.

Oh.

Don't swing it about!

[Clattering]

[Dramatic music]

At last.

Open the loot, Mrs. Beresford.

[Coins jangling]

All she could get.

In gold, I suppose.

Open the other.

[Both gasping]

It must be £20,000 at least!

Shall I?

Please do.

[Dramatic music]

[Tuppence] Oh!

Well I don't know
much about these things.

They must be worth
another £5,000 at least.

[Tuppence] Oh, and
look at the size of them.

Now I know why that old lady

kept the cutting about pearls

being a good investment.

Oh, Tommy, isn't it wonderful?

Now Monica can marry
her darling young man

and live happily ever
after, just like me.

Not for much longer,
lady grasmere.

The sound of a 12 bore
going off around here

will bring no one running.

Now, I'll take the cash please.

And the notes at my feet.

[Coins jangling]

[Notes clattering]

You'd better start
digging, Mr. Beresford.

And make it a hole
big enough for two.

My, lady grasmere,

you're still holding
the pearls. [Tutting]

Let me relieve you
of them, won't you?

[Albert groaning]

[Gun blasting]

Well done, Albert!

Tarzan the ape man.

Douglas Fairbanks
in the black pirate.

Jolly good.

Now fetch the police, will you?

Tuppence, the money.

Oh.

Tuppence, if you really love me,

will you answer me one question?

I hate these
catches, but all right.

How did you know Monica deane

was a clergyman's daughter?

Oh, that was just cheating.

I opened her letter
making an appointment.

A Mr. Deane was
father's curate once

and he had a
daughter called Monica,

so I put two and two together

and just hoped for the best!

[Both laughing]

You're a shameless
creature. [Laughing]

[Clock ringing]

Hello?

12 o'clock striking.

Happy Christmas, tuppence.

Happy Christmas, Tommy.

And it'll be a happy
Christmas for Monica too,

and all because...

Oh, Monica, happy Christmas!

You look...

Is poor Gerald all right?

Yes, oh yes, thank you.

The police doctor
said he must have

a remarkably thick skull.

Your brave Albert is
kindly driving him home.

He's just a little
stunned, that's all.

And So am I.

[Tuppence] Has
anything happened?

We're engaged.

Oh, Monica, that's wonderful!

Congratulations.

[Chuckling] First class.

Hold on, I've got just the thing

to celebrate this.

I found something
in your cellar, Monica.

Good old Gerald.

Fancy popping the question

after a bash on
the head like that.

It shows stamina.

Come on, Monica.

Out with it.

[Both laughing]

Oh, well, I might've known.

Well, it's just that Gerald

didn't exactly pop it.

Not exactly.

I was so worried
that when he learnt

the full extent of
my new means that...

[tuppence] He'd
be frightened off?

Mm, his pride, you see,
he's so very masculine.

Yes, I had noticed.

So I rather took things
into my own hands and...

[tuppence] Popped
the question yourself?

Well actually, yes.

[Both laughing]

Was that too dreadful of me?

No, of course not!

Very sensible.

Girl sees what she
wants, she should have it!

Oh!

Thank you.

[Bells tinkling]

Here we are.

Ice cold, too.

Oh, your mother
is ringing, Monica.

But I don't think Crockett

is going to answer
for a good many years.

Yes, well, I'll just go
and settle her down.

I shan't tell her
my news tonight,

it would only overexcite her.

[Tommy chuckling]

You know, I admire that girl.

Hardly out from
under the strain,

yet able to take a
decision on marriage.

Just like that.

Remarkable.

Yes.

Still, you're two of a kind.

Daughters of clergymen.

I should recognise
your qualities by now.

Unpredictable, loyal, practical.

Very determined.

And damned attractive.

[Cork popping]

Ooh!

[Tommy laughing]

[Whimsical music]

[Glasses clinking]

[Whimsical music]

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