All language subtitles for Nemesis- Miss Marple-2

Her name? Temple...
Elizabeth Temple. CBE, I think...

God! How dreadful!

- God!
- Excuse me.

Officer, Professor Wanstead.
Home Office.

Yes, sir.

He had a cloth cap on.
And a rather garish sweater.

If you want me, I'm staying
at the Golden Boar, Abbey Ducis.

Very good, sir.
I hope the news from the infirmary will be...

Quite. Quite.

There she is.

Did you get what you wanted?

I've saved you an eclair, old thing.

Isn't that...?

That's the professor
from that tour party, isn't it?

Golly, what a to do.
She's a tourist as well.

No.

What's going on?

A very plain stone for someone
who's been loved as much as she has,

don't you think?

Yes.

Here we are, aunt Jane.
Should be quiet enough up here.

- Would you like a cup of coffee?
- No, thank you.

I heard that when
we were in the church.

Well, well...

- Professor Wanstead. Hello.
- I've got some bad news, I'm afraid.

Miss Temple has
been seriously injured.

How seriously?

She hasn't recovered
consciousnessnyet.

The answer is, we don't know.
I don't think she'll live.

Is there a possibility
that it was not an accident?

Possibly not.
A stone statue fell from the gallery.

I saw a man.

He was wearing a cloth cap
and a brightly coloured pullover.

Hardly what you'd wear if... well...

No... Not unless you
wanted to be conspicuous.

Ghosts... ghosts...

Mr Rafiel is a ghostly puppet-master,
laughing at us from beyond the grave.

I'm sorry, Professor.
You don't know what I'm talking about.

I have to confess I do, I'm afraid.

I, too, am one of Mr Rafiel's puppets.

I received a summons from
Mr Rafiel to come on this tour.

Sorry?

Nothing. Sorry.

Please...

Yes. Anyway, as far as I can tell,
I was to remain in the shadows...

a sort of supernumerary player in case...

Well, anyway,
you've been in good hands.

But what was YOUR interest in this affair?

Mr Rafiel's other puppets
were involved, it seems.

I'm a psychologist.

A criminal psychologist,
attached to the Home Office.

I assessed Michael Rafiel
when he was arrested.

It seemed likely
he'd be charged with murder.

And was he insane?

No.

- No.
- Tell me, Miss Marple...

What have you discovered so far?

So far, it just concerns
a murdered girl... Verity Hunt.

Miss Temple taught her,
the Bradbury-Scotts were her guardians,

and Michael Rafiel
was engaged to be married to her.

The fact is,
Verity Hunt was loved.

Miss Temple hinted that
she died because she was loved.

You don't think Miss Temple
said more to anyone else?

She wrote a letter.
Well, she said she was going to.

And I got the impression
she didn't want to write it,

that it was a bit of a pig.

What did she know?

Whom did she know, I wonder?

Miss Temple was not
a woman to waste her time.

She must have thought someone
in Abbey Ducis would tell her something.

It was either her attacker or else...

What?

Or there is somebody else
we know nothing about.

Look!

I think we should look at that.

"Telephone message
from Mrs H. Oldcastle.

"Archdeacon Brabazon
left this address 4 or 5 years ago."

That's certainly somebody
I know nothing about.

No, indeed!

An Archdeacon...?

I'm sorry, it's a bad line.

That way, please.

Wait!

Miss Marple... Could you...?
The King Alfred Room.

Thanks so much.

God. Come on, flock.

Miss Rumley!

Professor Wanstead... telephone.

The infirmary, sir.

Wanstead speaking...

Ladies and gentlemen,
if you could all sit down...

just for a moment. Thank you.

I want you all to know that Miss Temple
has regained consciousness briefly.

So we can hope... l mean...
l don't know if... Anyway...

We can't move on
to Stratford as planned.

The police will have to have
statements from everyone,

and there will be some checking up to do.

You say Miss Temple
asked specifically for me?

- Yes.
- And how is she?

Well, they don't think she'll recover.

Isn't that
Anthea Bradbury-Scott?

I'm sorry for those girls.

The world's changed,
and they haven't changed with it.

Elizabeth...

- Jane Marple?
- Yes. lt's Jane Marple here.

Verity...

Ask them about Verity.

The truth...

The truth was buried with her.

There's been a change.
Something's happened.

Now that she's dead,
it'll mean an inquest, of course.

Yes. I suppose it will.

- Tell me... um...
- What?

Why did you really
come on this tour?

- For the reasons I gave.
- Sorry, but... You know...

Put it this way.

You're not particularly altruistic.

Why bother about
the whims of a dead man?

For the money! Didn't I say?

Broadribb and Schuster
are paying me - and very well.

Academics don't eat off gold plate.

Professor...

Yes?

I was thinking...

Apart from this mysterious person,
Archdeacon Brabazon,

I think there
are 3 things to follow up.

- Now, Lionel... Michael Rafiel.
- Yes?

I think he should be found.

Yes... of course.
I'll erm...

Mind you, according to Schuster,
he's living like a tramp in London.

But I'll have a go.
Will you be...?

Yes, of course I will. Professor...

- At your service.
- This girl, Norah Brent,

who disappeared from Abbey Ducis
at the time of the murder.

- I wondered...
- lf I'd do some research?

Willingly.

Hello.
We came straight over when we heard.

Do we know how she is?

Miss Temple died at 5 o'clock.

My God!

I'm very sorry. Very sorry.

You'd be most welcome, Miss Marple,
to stay on at the Manor House.

- You're sure I won't be any trouble?
- Not in the least.

- Thank you.
- That's settled. Good.

We'll look forward to seeing you.

Thank you.

Are you sure?

Yes. I'm quite sure.
That's the third line of enquiry.

Mr Rafiel intended me to go there
to discover something.

Well, I haven't discovered it.

Perhaps I haven't
asked the right question.

Bother it!
I expect it's this close weather.

Verity...

Did you know her?
I had no idea.

You do mean Verity Hunt, I suppose?

I've no idea what I mean,
I'm afraid.

Poor Miss Temple said it,
before she died. Just that... "Verity".

Of course, it means
"the truth" but...

Dear...

Have I said something I shouldn't?
I'm sorry.

My sisters were extremely
fond of her, that's all, and...

She was killed.

Murdered, in fact.

They found her body in a ditch.

She was a girl we cared for...
very much.

She lived here for a number of years.

I was very fond of her.

I didn't say that you w...

She was terribly fond of you.

She...

Her life should have been...
She...

Everything.

Excuse me.

For God's sake! I didn't mean...

Dear.

We were all fond of Verity.

But to Clothilde she was like
a daughter, so we never mention her.

I believe I told you
Michael Rafiel was a bad lot.

Well, it was rather
more than that, I'm afraid.

Assault... forgeries...

Trouble with local girls...
Stories of violence.

And then a girl in the village
disappeared - Norah Brent.

She's never been found.

Then Verity was murdered.

Naturally, the police
questioned Michael Rafiel.

The last time she was
seen alive was in his car.

We have no proof, of course, but...

Anyway, her body was
discovered six months later.

Clothilde had to go and identify it.

Verity had been strangled,
and her head beaten in.

My sister has never got over it.

I'm sorry, Madam.

Mr Peel checked out
yesterday morning.

Good morning, ladies.

So... You're not going
with the main party, then?

No.

This tragedy has made
the whole idea seem rather futile.

- Distasteful, actually.
- Yes, I agree.

There's a memorial service
for Miss Temple on Wednesday.

Good.

Yes, we'll stay on for that,
and then we'll see.

Quite.

Well... em...

- Better be getting on.
- Quite so.

- Mrs Brent?
- Yes.

My name's Wanstead, Home Office.
lt's about your daughter.

- Sure you don't want anything?
- No, thank you.

I'll just get myself
an orange squash then.

People said I spoilt her.
Well... perhaps...

You should have seen her as a kid.

Norah could turn a head,
I can tell you.

Never lost the art of that,
she didn't.

People said I should have watched
her better, after Keith walked out.

I could have.

But if you don't have
some fun when you're young...

Where do you think she is now?

What?

You sounded as if you knew
where she might be now.

I know where she is, alright.

You do?

She's dead. That's what.

Poor little cow.

Must be.

She'd go off...
She'd always be off.

Scare the lights out of me.

But she'd always
come back soon enough.

When she was happy it was worse.

Sometimes, she wouldn't be in touch
with me for days, the little bint.

But always sooner or later,
so I didn't worry too much at first.

We knew each other, you see.

I couldn't believe it.

Not really.

Not deep down.

For weeks I couldn't...

And, in the end, I realised
it would be nonsense not to.

I mean, she would have been
in touch... somehow... something...

The little soft cow
knew what I was like.

She wouldn't want to torture me.

No...!

She's dead and gone.

Someone got her.

Poor little...

Yes, I'm... l'm sorry.

Well...

What was your interest then?

Another girl disappeared
at the same time.

Yes. The Hunt girl,
up at the Manor House.

Yes. Yes, she did.

- My Norah knew her, you know.
- No, I didn't know.

Yes. Miss Hunt took
quite a shine to my Norah.

Well, she was an innocent.
She liked to ask Norah things.

She didn't have a mother, you see.

- She had her guardians.
- Those two old maids?

Not quite who I would ask
what to do with a man.

No, quite... lf that's...

Well, of course!
She was in love, wasn't she?

- Was she?
- Yes!

With that chap Rafiel,
up at the big house.

Do you think he had anything
to do with Verity's death?

I don't say nothing about that.

Sure you don't want
an orange squash?

Dear.

Yes, dear?

- Dear, dear.
- What is it?

Well, I make so many
mistakes these days.

Let's see if we can sort
this one out, shall we?

If you could...

I've been stupid. lt's a parcel.
I send them clothing...

- pullovers and things.
- To who, dear?

A charity. And I did it up,
and had it sent off.

Then, when I was having my second
cup of tea... l like a big pot...

I realised I had the wrong address.

I meant to send it
to the London Dock Welfare Assoc.

I'm staying up at the Manor House.

- I think Mrs Glynne brought it in.
- On Saturday?

Saturday? Saturday?
Yes.

Not Mrs Glynne, dear.
lt was Miss Anthea.

Was it? Really?
How very kind of her.

What was it now?
The East Ham...

Women and Children's Clothing...
something.

- Appeal, I think.
- "Appeal" yes, that's it.

Of course, East Ham.
Yes, the Reverend Matthews.

Such a very difficult mission.
My goodness, what a memory?

- I'm afraid the parcel's gone off.
- Well, you've relieved my mind.

- Thank you very much.
- That's alright, my dear. Bye, bye.

Raff? Could be anywhere
his work takes him, couldn't he?

His work?

'Ere. Who are you?

- A friend.
- And you don't know what Raff does?

Go on. Knock off!

Miss Marple, Broadribb...

Telephone message.
She has a small commission for us.

She wants us to trace a parcel.

- I'm sorry, Mr Broadribb. Sorry.
- lt's all right, Miss Wimpole.

It's all right.
Now, how about some tea?

Tea? Certainly. Tea.

What's going on, Broadribb?

I beg your pardon?

Listen! Someone,

some bloke sniffing
around after me, asking questions.

I don't like it.

Tell him to lay off.

Alright?!

Now!

Well, Schuster...

Whom do you suppose he means?

I have no idea.

I cannot conceive of anyone wishing
to enquire after such an unsavoury person.

'Surely He has borne our griefs,
and carried our sorrows...

'Thou wilt be our all in all. Amen.'

♪ Abide with me
Fast fall the eventide.

♪ The darkness deepens
Lord with me abide.

♪ When other helpers
fail and comforts flee

♪ Help of the helpless
O abide with me. ♪

I hope you don't mind my asking,
but are you Archdeacon Brabazon?

Yes, I am.

I believe we once had an acquaintance
in common... A Mr Rafiel.

Yes, quite right.
He died not long ago.

Is that why you're here?

In a manner of speaking.

I believe I am here
at his bidding too.

I had meant many times
to return here - from Australia.

And suddenly there,
on my desk, was an air ticket.

The airline assured me
there was no mistake.

Another ticket was for Abbey Ducis.

I arrived here to be greeted
by this tragic news.

Even that seemed stage-managed.

Archdeacon, there's someone
I'd like you to meet.

Mr Rafiel's bloodhound.

His avenging angel.

She looks so harmless, doesn't she?

Her camouflage is perfect,
because she is,

partly, just what she seems...

a gossipy, old, village lady.
But her logic is ruthless,

and her powers of synthesis
formidable.

Above all, she never lets go.

I look forward to meeting her.

Verity, of course, I'd known
since she was a child. She was...

Well... She was blessed

with goodness and simplicity...
unnervingly so.

Miss Temple described her
as "a shining girl".

Yes, that's exactly right.
She was.

She was.
lt was she who first came to me.

She believed Michael
would change, she said.

I tried to explain that people
hardly ever changed, not essentially.

Her reply was simple.

Did I not believe
in the redemption of the individual?

Her simplicity,
her strength, her belief.

I can tell you,
I felt ashamed at the time.

Soiled by the world.

When I saw them together,
I knew she was right.

I'd advised many people
who were about to marry.

None were better suited than them.

They had a trust and understanding
of each other which was rare,

very rare... shining.

Mr Rafiel? Raff?
You don't know then.

Well, he's a sort of...
Well, I don't know...

a sort of... people's advocate.

He'll face up to officials on behalf
of some of these poor fellows when they...

A consul populis.

Quite an educated chap, you know.
He's considered a bit of a saint.

But I, as an official,
don't see much of the saintly side.

The Pharisees get
the sharper side of his tongue.

We're donkeys and glummocks
and I don't know what!

Miss Marple!
You're still here.

Would you do us a favour
and dine with us this evening?

That's very kind of you.

I rather think I'm expected
at the Manor House.

How unfair!
They've had you to dinner every night.

Do join us.
We've had such an interesting time.

We'll walk you over there afterwards.

- You're dining here?
- Miss Cooke has invited me.

I don't think
the Bradbury-Scotts would mind.

Mrs Adams would probably
be happy to have one less.

Well, I'll telephone, shall I?
Thank you. I do hope to join you.

I shall drive you back to the Manor House.

- But why are you dining with them?
- I may learn something.

Thank you, Mrs Adams.

We shall need a fourth cup.

Miss Marples should
be with us any moment.

- And did you learn something?
- Yes.

- Goodnight, Miss Marple.
- Goodnight.

- Well, that was instructive.
- Yes. Yes, it was.

I do think it was peculiar
of Jane Marple not to dine with us.

She probably doesn't want
to be a nuisance.

She could see we're
reduced to one servant.

There was rather
more to it than that, I believe.

Hoping to learn something.

She was being polite, Vinny.

Will you stop fiddling
with that wretched machine?!

God! God!

Thank you, Professor.

- Are you absolutely sure?
- I shall be safe enough now.

Good.

- Ready?
- Yes.

- So you're off tomorrow, Miss Marple?
- Yes.

I've achieved what I came for.
My little commission.

- Really?
- Commission? From whom?

From Mr Rafiel.
I feel I can tell you now.

- What was your commission?
- Such a generous man.

- I'm sorry?
- What did he ask you to do?

He relied upon me to use
my small gifts in certain areas.

And he spoke of justice.

"Let justice roll down like the water,

and righteousness
like an everlasting stream."

I've just realised how much
I've imagined Mr Rafiel's intentions.

But I feel sure I'm right.

It all started with that poor,
delightful girl, Verity, your ward.

When Mr Rafiel was dying,
he realised he wanted justice done.

He wanted her murderer
brought to book, at whatever cost.

So he made arrangements.

And do you know now
who the murderer was?

Yes, I know now.

Well...

- we're glad about that.
- Well, who is it?

lt's a question of proof.

I daresay I shall
be able to dig it up, but...

- in the meantime...
- Of course.

Tenzing!

How did you get in?

Mrs Adams said she put you out.
You're soaking. Come on.

Mrs Adams must have left
a window open. I'd better check.

Well... lt's late.

I'll take this through.

Would you like a milky drink,
Miss Marple?

Good evening, Miss Bradbury-Scott.

I saw your light on.
I... wondered...

- lf I had drunk my milky drink?
- What?

No... l didn't think
it would be good for me.

I think you know what I mean.

If you want some more milk,
I'll go and get it for you.

I shouldn't drink it if you did.

What an extraordinary person you are.

Is it a little foible of yours, or what?

Once, Miss Bradbury-Scott,
a young girl lived in this house.

Well-loved, innocent, untouched.

Too well-loved,
too innocent, too untouched.

So when a young man came to claim her,
as you knew one day he must...

her very innocence was the star
which guided her to love him.

A miserable, depraved delinquent!

I don't want to talk about this.

The girl believed him redeemable.

She couldn't have!

God knows what
he must have said to her.

My beautiful girl. She couldn't!
She'd have realised.

But you never gave her
the chance, did you?

The strength of your love
must have beenfrightening.

How did you kill her?

What?

Verity was found in a ditch...

with her head smashed.

Do you think... Loving that girl
the way I loved her...

Do you think I could
have done that to her?

No. Of course not.
Of course, you couldn't.

Then what the hell
are you talking about?

I'm talking about Verity.

Not Norah Brent, whom you battered
to death and identified as Verity.

What an act of sacrilege that
must have been to your princess.

It must have cost you dear, that.

You put Verity to sleep just as she
had woken to the beauty of life.

She was trying to escape
the servitude of your love.

She wanted a normal life.
She wanted reality.

You returned her to fairyland.

- And now...
- And now?

She's safe now
from any unsuitable princes.

Sleeping Beauty lies in the ruins.

And flowers grow round her.

Yes... Yes.

No, Miss Bradbury-Scott.

She is a rotting corpse,
with no-one to kiss her awake.

You foui old woman!

You hag!

You won't leave here alive.

I believe I shall.

So. lt's over at last.

Thank God!

I'll go to my room now.

If you don't mind.

I am sure that
will be quite all right.

You're sure?

Quite sure.

Tilly! Clothilde!
Tilly! Clothilde!

Clothilde!

Tilly!

Clothilde.

Leave her alone.
You can't help her now.

She's never been happy.
Never!

Even when she had Verity
she was terrified of losing her.

She planted this in her memory.

I wanted her to get rid of it,
to try and help her forget.

She would never have done that.

This marks Verity's grave.

That rather plain stone in the graveyard
is where Norah Brent is buried.

No!

Thank you, Lionel. Well done!

- We'll be away now, Miss Marple.
- Goodbye! And thank you so much.

- All in a day's work.
- Goodbye.

Professor...

Courtesy of Mr Rafiel,
Miss Cooke and Miss Barrow

have been my bodyguards.

- Nice to have met you, Professor.
- Miss Cooke... Miss Barrow.

On your way then, Barrow.

The police found this on Clothilde's desk.
From Elizabeth Temple.

It confirms what you thought.

It accuses Clothilde Bradbury-Scott
of Verity's murder.

It's extraordinary.

She offers to help her confess
as if it was...

I don't know...
something quite every day.

And it cost her her life.

The man in the cloth cap
and sweater was Clothilde.

Miss Temple's letter
obviously put her in danger.

So Jason Rafiel's
faith in his son is justified.

No, he wanted justice.

Even if it meant
the sacrifice of his son.

- You think so?
- Yes.

That's why he chose me.
He knew I wouldn't flinch,

even if it meant sending
Michael to the gallows.

He called me Nemesis.

And he wasn't being entirely humorous.

Well...?

You've found me.

What do you want?

They know who murdered Verity.

Yes! lsn't it?
What a Paradise.

Shouldn't we go, Professor?

No, I don't think so.

What are you doing?

Well... really... l don't know.

Thank you for coming, Miss Marple.
I'm Michael Rafiel.

How do you do?

- Professor.
- Hello, Aunt Jane.

Lionel, dear. Well done.

This was in another
envelope addressed to me.

It's for you.

- For me?
- Undoubtedly.

It's from your father.

Well, well...

'Thank you, Miss Marple, my Nemesis.

'Shall we meet again?

Yours, 'Jason Rafiel.'