All language subtitles for Remington Steele s03e05 Blue Blooded Steele.eng

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Good Lord.

- Daniel.
- I hereby pronounce you Reginald, duke of Rutherford.

- Ah!
- How are you, Harry?

Well-Well, just shy of a heart attack,
but otherwise all right.

I think a celebration's in order,
don't you?

- How long has it been?
- Oh, it must be a good two years.

You're looking very dapper, I must say.
New tailor?

No. He died, poor chap.
Some Hong Kong fellow now.

- Here we go. Here's some champers.
- Hmm.

Well. I'm glad to see you haven't become
a total heathen since I last saw you.

Yes. Well, don't tell me
you've traveled 7,000 miles...

simply to anoint your former pupil
with a fireside poker.

On the contrary, the duke is dead.
Long live the duke.

- Ah. Now, now, now, just wait a minute, old man.
- Come now, Harry.

Five years ago, you told me it was
the most brilliant scheme we ever concocted.

Yes, I know.
But that was five years ago.

In two short days, you become
the new duke of Rutherford.

Find yourself another conspirator,
Mr. Chalmers.

Harry, I'm shocked.

You anticipated your role as the duke's
long-lost son with great relish.

Yes, but the old buzzard lived.
I moved on.

Harry, we're talking about
a 50,000-acre English estate...

with land holdings
in South Africa, the Caribbean...

at least �12 million
in the Bank of England.

- Hmm. Twelve million, is it?
- It is.

Look. If you're worried about
the unflappable Miss what's her name-

- Holt.
- Exactly. Bring her along. There's plenty to go around.

Daniel, Daniel, you know how Laura is
about our, uh, inglorious past.

Merely a suggestion, Harry.
Come. Join me in a toast.

- To Reginald Whitewood, Duke of Rutherford.
- Hmm.

Was that meant for me or you?

I'm not the one
about to inherit a fortune.

Who else knew you were coming
to Los Angeles to find the duke's long-lost son?

Just the executor of the estate.
And your new cousins of course.

Who, no doubt, will inherit this vast fortune...

if anything should happen
to poor old Reggie.

- Hmm. No doubt.
- Which makes me a sitting duck.

- Duke. Sorry.
- No, that's it.

I'm afraid you'll have to go back
and say it was all a big mistake.

I'm not the duke!

How can I, when I've spent the past three days
convincing them you're the duke's long-lost son?

- I'm sure you'll find a way.
- But you can't ask me...

to impeach my hard-earned integrity
with those people.

All right. All right,
I'll get you off the hook.

I'll go back to London alone.

It just happens we're both booked
on the next flight out.

You need looking after. Always did.

Oh, good Lord.
Oh, no. It's Laura.

- My biggest fan.
- Quick, in here. Come with me.

- But-
- Just do as I say. Please.

- But I've got very important engagements.
- Just do as I say.

Get in there.
Go in the closet, all right?

Oh, no.

Yes! Ooh. Oh.

Be a second.

Stay.

Hi.

What's the matter with you? We're late.

It's dark in here.

Oh, uh, I, uh- I prefer the dark.

- Why?
- Uh, it's, uh- It's Daniel.

Daniel? Who's Daniel?

Uh, Daniel Chalmers.

I just got the call.

He's ill, gravely ill. Hmm.

Oh. Oh, I'm- I'm so sorry.

I, uh- I really should go to him, you know.
Uh, keep a vigil?

You know how excruciatingly lonely those...

remaining... hours can be.

- Where is he?
- Uh, London. Hm.

I'll book the next flight out.

Uh, no!
Uh, no. No.

No, it's okay. I-
I've taken care of that. Yes.

- Okay.
- Okay.

- I'll pack while you get ready, and we'll swing by my loft...
- Right.

- and pick up my things-
- No! No, no, no! Wh-Wh-Whoops.

All right, Laura, please.
Ah! Laura!

I, uh, um-

Somehow, I fear that this is just
between, um, Daniel and me, hmm?

You understand?

He was like a father to you, wasn't he?

All right. Go.

But don't hesitate
to pick up the phone and call.

Not at all. Thank you.

Thank you. Really.

My, uh-All my suits are in here.

And-And... you'll need a tie,
just-just in case.

- Ah, Laura-
- Oh!

- Let's not even think of it, eh?
- I know.

- You're frightened.
- Mm-hmm.

- But all we can hope for is a quick and full recovery.
- Yes.

- What time is your flight?
- Mm? Uh-

8:30.

8:30.

- You got your ticket?
- Yes.

- You got your ticket?
- Yes.

- And your passport?
- Yes. I've got everything, all right. Yes.

All right. Good luck.

- Now remember, call if you need anything. Okay?
- Right. Okay.

Well, uh, good-bye.
And, uh-

It won't be too long, okay?
I'll be back as soon as I can.

- All right.
- Thank you for understanding.

Okay.

Thank you.

I should've known.

Hello, Mildred, this is an emergency. Yeah-
Laura.

Get my passport and meet me
at the international terminal, Gate 19.

Attention. This is
your final boarding call for Flight 120 to London.

- Damn.
- I'll check that for you.

- Damn.
- I'll check that for you.

- Hello. I need a ticket for Flight 120 to London.
- I'm sorry. That flight's full.

- Full?
- I can put you on standby.

Once the investiture is over, we'll spend
a few... months in the south of France...

catch our breath.

Thank you.
Investiture? Daniel, I am not-

Nothing to worry about, Harry-
a small ceremony...

to make your accession
to the dukedom official.

Daniel, I am going to London
to extricate myself from this scheme, period.

- Hmm, just thinking of our future, Harry.
- Just think of your own future.

Hmm.

Excuse me. If, uh, you two gentlemen
will return to your seats...

we're about to serve dinner.

Thank you. And by the way, the name's Steele.
Remington Steele.

Well, of course, Harry.
Whatever you say.

You gonna eat your peanuts?

No.

So, uh, traveling alone?

- You might say that.
- Thought so.

No wedding ring.

No-
thank you, very much.

- Would you like something to drink?
- White wine, please.

Make that two.

You gonna eat your peanuts?

Yeah.

- That'll be $1.50.
- $1.50.

Nah-ah-ah-ah-ah. I got that.
It's on me.

Uh, no, I'd-
I wanna pay for my own drink.

Oh, well, hey, that's cool.
I can dig it. You know what I mean?

After all, uh, we got plenty of time, pretty lady.
What is this, a 10-hour flight?

- Would you care for
a headset? - Yes. - No.

- That'll be three dollars.
- I got it. Please.

Get another bag of peanuts.

- How much are the peanuts?
- They're free.

Get two.

Passport, madam.

Oh. Uh-

Uh- Oh, I must have left it
on the plane.

Can't go through without it.
Next!

- Hello.
- Hi.

- How would you like to make $100?
- Doing what?

Following two men.

- Impressive, isn't it?
- Hmm. Enough to kill for.

All we have to do is keep you alive
until the ceremony. Noon tomorrow.

What makes you think whoever's trying to kill me
won't try it tomorrow after the ceremony?

Because once you've succeeded the duke, his will
is fulfilled. Killing you won't get anyone...

- a penny unless they're named in your will.
- Interesting.

- Isn't it?
- Hmm.

- Doesn't look much like the duke, does he, Gwen?
- Angus, the duke was 96.

I must say, he does appear to have
the Whitewood nose, at least from this angle.

My dear Archie,
the same claim could be made...

for half the bastard sons
of Rutherford County.

Quite a decent tailor.

Good afternoon, Angus, Archie, Gwen.

- May I present Reginald Whitewood.
- Mm.

But not the Reginald Whitewood.

What do you mean, not the Reginald Whitewood?

Uh, my name indeed is Reggie Whitewood,
but, uh, as fate would have it...

there are a number of similarities, uh,
with my own background...

and that of your long-lost,
beloved cousin.

Mr. Chalmers here, uh,
brilliant detective that he is...

uh, caught scent of me
in the States.

And naturally he was quite devastated to find
that actually I am another Reggie altogether.

Um, nevertheless...

I decided to accompany Mr. Chalmers here
and explain everything...

therefore avoiding any future,
uh, you know, complications.

You're really going to do this, aren't you?

I know how upset the three of you must be,
but rest assured...

I lay no claims whatsoever
to the duke's inheritance.

You can have it all: lock, stock and barrel.

- He always had an outlandish sense of humor.
- Didn't he though?

I say, you really had us going there, Reggie, what?

- Welcome home, Reggie!
- But I'm not R-

- Welcome home, Reggie.
- Long live the Whitewoods.

- Long live the duke.
- Long live the new duke.

Daniel-

- Your Grace.
- Mm, Daniel-

Oh, thank you.
Thank you so much.

Miss Holt? Miss Holt?

- Here, honey.
- Oh, Mildred. Thank God.

Oh, yeah. When I didn't see you at L.A.X.,
I knew I'd find you here.

- What's up, honey?
- It depends on whom you ask.

- Let's ask Mr. Steele.
- Okay.

None of this makes sense, Daniel.

First they try to kill me,
and then they embrace me with open arms...

knowing that if I become the prince,
they become the paupers.

Not "prince," Harry. "Duke. "
Duke of Rutherford.

Mm. Well, this place gives me the willies.

I keep feeling my every move
is being scrutinized.

I do think you're overreacting, Harry.

Mm, perhaps. Perhaps.

The executor will see you, Your Grace.

Oh. Thank you, Armstrong.
Thank you.

Yes.

Stop that.

It shouldn't be too difficult to convince
the executor I'm not the duke, should it?

Uh, Harry, th-there may be
one minor detail...

- I may have forgotten to mention.
- Yes, what's that?

You remember that judge that gave Theo Davis
20 years for the pedigree dog swindle?

Oh, yes. Penhaligon. Merciless bugger.
Whatever happened to him?

No. No. No.

Penhaligon's the executor?

He catches one whiff of a fraud,
and he'll lock us up and throw away the key.

It is a bother, isn't it?

Step this way, ladies.

This is Fred Bloggs, our groundskeeper.

An ex-military man,
Mr. Bloggs loves complete order-

- and cannot restrain himself
from personally imposing it...

upon our many gardens
here at Rutherford Castle.

Bloggs, perhaps you could
explain to the ladies exactly-

what it is you're doing with this plot.

Yes.
Well, these flowers...

are Viola tricolor...

or, as we call them in these parts,
Sussex special butterwort.

- You're a very lucky man, Rutherford.
- Oh, I am?

Yes. In cases such as yours-
long-lost relatives returning and so forth-

legal verification of identity
often drags on for years through the courts.

But the documentation provided
by Mr. Chalmers here...

is absolutely the most irrefutable proof of claim
I have ever seen.

- That's a comforting thought.
How thorough of you. - Mm-hmm.

Yes. The future of the nation rests
with young men such as yourself.

Uh, the duke, your father, knew that.
He was a great man. His are tidy shoes to fill.

Well, I-
If you'll excuse me...

it was a very... dry journey
from London.

I think I shall, uh,
go and rest a bit before dinner.

- The documentation
you so thoughtfully provided-

- Where is it?
- Um, in the safe behind that painting there.

Why?

A few minor alterations should be enough
to get me off the hook.

Yes.

Our next stop is the library.

Here we should see just a very few pieces
of the priceless Rutherford art collection.

Ah. Look everyone.
We've had the most marvelous luck.

It's the new duke of Rutherford.

- Good afternoon, Your Grace.
- Yes. Good afternoon. Good afternoon.

Yes. Just seeing what time has done
to poor Uncle Percy.

Uh, Chalmers, remind me to get the restorer
in first thing in the morning, will you? Hmm.

Imagine that.
Onlyjust arrived...

and already looking after
the family's assets, are we?

Ah, yes.
Uh, well, carry on, ladies.

Shall we?

- That's a close call.
- Indeed. We'll have to see if we can get in there later.

And do what exactly?

You expect me to believe
that all you're trying to do...

is prove to them
that you're not the duke of Rutherford?

It does strain credulity,
I'll admit, Laura.

- However-
- Spare me the oblique explanation, Mr. Steele.

It's not as if it's the first time
you've pulled something like this.

If you're referring to my occasional side trips,
Laura, I can explain-

No, no, no. I understand your having
to get away by yourself now and then.

- It's only natural.
- It is?

- Sure it is, Harry.
- Mr. Chalmers, please.

Look. I'll admit, Laura,
Cannes was pretty much a mess...

and you have every right in the world
to blame me for ev-

- No, no, no. You went to Cannes to help a friend.
- I did?

- Yes.
- Yes. Yes, of course I did.

That's right.
And you were there to help me. Right.

We're a team, Mr. Steele,
and teams stick together.

That's right. Yes. Yes.

You're being excruciatingly
understanding, Laura.

I know.

Oh. How quaint.

Our very own knight in shining armor.

- You all right, Daniel?
- Look out!

Watch out!

Ah-ha.

Obviously someone wants Reggie dead.

Right.
And no one will believe that I'm not him.

- Which just might be to our advantage.
- Huh?

As long as you continue to play Reggie,
they'll keep trying to kill you.

That's what concerns me, Laura.

Harry, don't be such a worrywart.

Yes, Harry.

- Mmm. There.
- Ooh.

- That's better.
- Yes.

Reggie.! Thanks.
I can find my way from here.

Cute slave, Reggie.
Hi, everybody.

- Who's that?
- What is that?

That's Myrtle Groggins,
my fianc�e. Hmm.

You know I hate that name.

You're supposed to call me "Your Grace"...

take three steps back and curtsey.

- Your Grace.
- Bunny.

- Bunny?
- Bunny. Her nickname. Met her at a Playboy club.

- Bunny?
- Bunny. Her nickname. Met her at a Playboy club.

You never told us
you were engaged, Your Grace.

He didn't?
Well, Gracey just doesn't like to brag.

- Do ya, honey?
- Hmm.

Ya know, I think we should get
some of that, uh...

forest glade wallpaper
and put it up around here.

Make it look a little like-
mmm-Sherwood Forest.

- Give it that- that Middle Ages mood, you know?
- Hmm.

- Oh, yeah.
- Mm-hmm.

Ooh. Wow. What a joint.

You could hide
the Spruce Goose in here. Huh!

- Ooh. What are you, my shadow?
- Forgive me, madam.

Heh, heh.
Uh, Mildred Groggins, Myrtle's mother.

Ha-ha. What do ya say, gang?

- Dinner is served.
- Ooh, is that timing?

Come on, gang.
Let's chow down.

Wow. This'd give ya
a headache and a half.

Is this the real McCoy or what?

My dear girl...

each of these weapons is authentic,
in perfect condition...

and has been in this family
for generations.

I look after them myself and would appreciate it
if you would leave your hands off them.

Careful, Arch. That's the future lady
of the manor you're talking to.

Over my dead body.

- Here?
- Mm.

Thank you.

Ooh!
Uh-huh.

I imagine you were delighted to discover
that your daughter's fianc� was a duke.

Oh, duke, schmuke.
I never butt into my daughter's affairs.

Tell me something, Judge.
Just how loaded is this guy anyway?

- Exceedingly.
- Oh. Nice.

Oh, thank you.

I say, Reggie,
once, uh, the dust has settled...

I'd be more than happy to come down
and help you with any redecorating.

How kind of you, Gwen.

I can't tell you how fortunate I feel
to have you all here...

to help me through
this turbulent transition. Hmm.

Your nanny is here, sir.

What is it, Your Grace?

My... nanny.

- His what?
- Oh, where's Reggie? I want to see Reggie.

- What'll I do? I mean, she'll know I'm not Reggie.
- Punt.

Are you the one who claims
to be my Reggie?

- What did you call your favorite teddy bear?
- Hmm?

Uh, uh, Pookie.

- The gardener's cat?
- The gardener's cat.

Um-Ah...

Pussycakes. Heh.

- Who was Sparky?
- Sparky.

Sparky. Hmm.
Now why is that name so familiar?

- Because it was your favorite hobbyhorse.
- Of course! Yes.

Patty-cake, patty-cake,
six times 10...

put an egg in the oven-

A- A-And... bake a little red hen.

Oh, Reggie...

you've come home at last.

Nanny, yes.

Psst.

We need to talk.

- I see. Come to claim your detective, have you?
- Yes.

Well, I'm afraid you can't have him.

- Why don't you let him decide that?
- He already has.

Do you really think he would have let me
bring him over here if in his heart...

- he weren't willing to go through with this little scheme?
- Yes.

Stop fooling yourself, my dear.

His days with you are over, Chalmers.
He's with me now.

Miss Holt, Harry is one of a kind,
a true artist.

The only reason he hasn't painted himself
out of your life is that...

the two of you have yet to experience
the... ultimate moment.

There's more to our relationship than you think.

Is there?

Look, we both know
Mr. Steele feels he owes you...

but how far are you willing to go
to call that marker in?

I was about to ask you
the same question.

One thing is clear.
We both can't have him.

I wouldn't be so sure.

You created a world-renowned detective
out of thin air.

That takes a rare and innate talent.

Laura, you have resources
you haven't begun to tap.

I propose to you that together
the three of us could turn Europe on its ear.

- You must be joking.
- Think about it.

Once this is over,
I'm taking Mr. Steele back to Los Angeles.

Once this is over, Harry and I
are going to the south of France.

Ah, yes. Come in.
Come in. Come in.

- Chalmers bought Nanny off. That's the only explanation.
- Yes, yes. Very clever of him.

I mean, if he hadn't,
Penhaligon would have smelt a rat. Heh.

I must say, Laura, Daniel's always been
very quick on his feet.

I remember this night
in Casablanca-

You certainly seem to be enjoying your role
as the new duke...

in spite of the fact
that it could get you killed.

Yes, but we agreed to play along
until we got to the bottom of this.

Just as long as we understand
when the game is over.

Reggie? Reggie, dear?

Huh.

Ah, hello, Nanny. Hello.

- Pookie.
- Oh, Pookie.

- I've been saving him all these years.
- Oh.

Oh, you must go to bed now, Reggie. Ah.

- You need your rest.
- Oh.

- Nighty-night.
- Nighty-night, Nanny. Nighty-night.

Yes.

Uh, Pookie.

- She's very good.
- Aye.

Yes. Come in.

Thought you might enjoy a nightcap.

Oh, how very thoughtful of you, Archie.
How very thoughtful of you indeed.

- I suggest you get into bed and sip it.
- Huh?

The port.

And hang on to Pookie.
Lucky bear, that one.

Yes. Good night.

What is this-Victoria Station?

Yes.

- Ah. Ah, there you are, old bean.
- Hmm.

Single shot of malt.

I suggest you lie down, pop it back.
And the next thing you know, it'll be morning.

Oh, I'm sure I won't know what hit me.

- Night, Pookie.
- Night-night.

Night-night.

- That bear has been around.
- That only leaves-

I feel like a winter coat in Miami.

I thought this might help you sleep.

Ah. You read my very mind, Gwen.

Yes.

- Oh, I- I see you're limping.
- Oh, yes. Silly me.

I was out riding on the common today.
My horse threw me a good one.

Oh, really?
Nothing serious, I hope.

- I shouldn't think so.
- Ah.

- Perhaps you... better have a look at it.
- Yes.

Yes. Maybe I should
have a look at it. Um-

Forgive me. Um, um...

I, um- I'm a little bit lagged
at the moment.

Perhaps, uh- Perhaps we'd better
take a rain check on this.

Uh, you know how it is.
These things just happen.

I think it's seeing Nanny again
and everything- Pookie.

I'm looking forward to it.

Do you hear something ticking?

Stand back, Laura.

These things are easily defused...

if done correctly.

One, uh, simply has to know how to...

disconnect... the mechanism.

Watch out!

- Wait, wait. Is there an attic above us?
- Of course.

- How do we get there?
- Down there at the very, very end of the hall.

A touch of insomnia, Your Grace?

That was the ticking sound.

There's gotta be another way out ofhere.
Come on.

Laura, Laura, come here.

Hang on.
There you go. After you.

- Ooh.
- Reggie.

Wait here, Laura. This could get a bit slippery.
Lost the soap, have we?

Oop.

Reggie.

Ooh.

Oh, my.

I'm afraid he's dead, Your Grace.

I trust you won't be needing this
any longer, Your Grace.

Not tonight, Armstrong.

Why would Angus poison your whiskey
and then drink it himself, boss?

Someone else poisoned that drink, Mildred.

Yes, and I'd sleep more comfortably
if we knew who.

You should be safe here
for the rest of the night.

Oh, yes. Well, that's easy for you
to say so, Daniel. Yes.

Well, Mildred,
I'll, uh, bid you fond farewell, okay?

- Good night, boss.
- Yes, good night.

- Good night, Daniel.
- Good night.

Good night. See you in the morning.

Hmm. You know...

I really haven't had time
to thank you properly...

for getting me out of the way
of that, uh, chandelier up there.

- All in a d- day's work, Mr. Steele.
- Heh. Thank you.

You know, Laura,
as we lay there huddled together...

just millimeters from death...

I began to think of all the things
I've left undone in my life.

All the things?

One in particular.

- Let me guess.
- You won't have to.

You know, your friend Chalmers says
that I've been manipulating you.

What an odd notion.

He says, the only reason
you've stuck with me is that...

you haven't gotten
what you've always gotten in the past.

- Is that true?
- That I haven't gotten what I've always wanted?

No. That you're only staying around
until you get it.

Oh, don't be absurd, Laura.

There are many reasons
for my staying around.

- Including devotion to our work.
- Oh, absolutely. Hmm.

- That's what I thought.
- Mmm. Mmm.

Yes. Mmm. Mmm.

- Hmm?
- You've got a safe to crack.

Laura. Laura-

Listen to this. "If my son Reginald should become
deceased before his investiture as duke...

"the entire estate shall be divided equally
among my surviving relatives:

"Angus Whitewood, Archie Whitewood,
Gwen Whitewood...

and the Foundation to Save
the Sussex Speckled Blue Butterfly. "

Talk about suspects.

Yes. But why is the killer so damned insistent
on my being Reggie?

I mean, wouldn't it be easier
not to deal with me at all?

Wait a minute.
There's a codicil.

"In the event my son Reginald
has not been found by the time of my death...

"the entire estate
shall be placed in a trust...

"administered by my executor
until he is found...

"or until 20 years
from the date of my death...

whichever comes first. "

That means,
if Reggie hadn't been found...

20 years would have to pass
before the cousins received a nickel.

And for any of those people to collect,
they had to find Reggie and then have Reggie die.

Which leaves Archie, Gwen
and this butterfly foundation.

Hmm.
Well, Gwen was limping this evening.

When I asked her about it, she said
that she'd taken a nasty spill off her horse.

She could have been
the knight on horseback.

And when the chandelier came down,
the only one...

who didn't come out of her room
immediately was Gwen.

Because at that time, she was likely
taking the secret staircase to her room...

where we found her up to her neck
in a bubble bath.

Yeah. No doubt fully clothed.

There you go.
That should do it, eh?

- Up, up, up.
- Here.

- Okay?
- Okay.

- Straighten the picture.
- It's fine.

Thinking last night's unfortunate incident
should be kept within the castle walls...

His Grace has asked me
to look into the matter.

I have concluded that only one person
could have shot at His Grace in Los Angeles...

arranged for the chandelier to fall on him
in his sleep, poisoned him with a nightcap.

That person is also guilty
of murdering Angus.

Oh, for heaven's sake, man, get on with it.
Who's the culprit?

Archie.

He's mad!

You're a military man
and a marksman.

Then why didn't I hit Reggie
in Los Angeles?

Yes. Your studies at Sandhurst
included extensive courses...

in chemistry and biology,
hence your knowledge of poisons.

Then why didn't I put the poison
in the port I brought him-

or better yet,
why not in all the drinks?

Ha-ha.

The antique weapons in this room
are all genuine, all in perfect working order...

looked after by your loving hands.

The falling chandelier
was one such weapon.

I shall not be vilified by this- this nincompoop
in the house of my ancestors.

I tell you, sir, I shall press charges.
I shall sue you for s-

s-
slander.

Oh, my goodness.

- It appears you're mistaken, Daniel.
- Possibly.

If Archie hadn't stepped in front of you,
you'd be wearing this.

- You must admit, Archie made an excellent suspect.
- Yes. I was sorry to see him go.

Why not have Gwen arrested now?

Because the arrow was rigged with a timer,
and we can't prove Gwen rigged it.

Besides, it's quite possible
she's innocent.

Is it?

The Foundation to Save
the Sussex Speckled Blue Butterfly...

had as much to gain as anybody
by the death of the duke's heirs.

Why keep grasping at straws?
In less than two hours, Harry becomes the duke.

Your chief suspect
is right down the hall.

- We'll smoke her out, Harry- just like
the old days, huh? - Sorry, Daniel...

but the thought of playing decoy to a desperate
heiress doesn't appeal to me somehow.

In that case, I shall have to do it on my own.

How's Nanny?

Oh, she's resting, but I don't know
how much more of this mayhem she can take.

That goes for all of us, Mildred.
Shall we, Mr. Steele?

The speckled blue butterfly.

Oh. Excuse me, Mildred.

Ah, there you are, Nanny. I-
I brought you some tea.

Now you want it straight,
or would you like a little shot in it?

- Where's my Reggie? Poor, dear Reggie.
- Oh, now you just relax, honey.

- I told Reggie I wouldn't let anything happen to you.
- But where is he?

Oh, now, Nanny, don't you worry.
Everything's gonna be just fine.

As far as I can tell, the foundation consisted
of the same 17 people...

until about three years ago, when someone
by the name of Elizabeth Perkins joined.

Ayear and a half later,
she became president.

This is from the duke's solicitors in London,
notifying the foundation...

that they've become
beneficiaries to his will.

- When was it written?
- Mm, three years ago.

About the same time
Elizabeth Perkins joined the foundation.

"Perkins. "
Perkins.

Elizabeth Perkins-

Why is that name so familiar?

- Good Lord-
- Nanny Perkins.

- Come on.
- Oh!

Nanny may have masterminded this, but somebody
has to be doing the dirty work for her.

Somebody close to the family,
somebody you wouldn't suspect.

Somebody strong,
who knows the castle.

Somebody who rides horses
and can handle tools and weapons.

The Fuller Brush Man.

Red Skelton, Janet Blair.
Columbia, 1948.

Skelton plays a Fuller Brush salesman
who gets blamed for a society murder...

when, in actual fact,
it was committed by the butler. Ha.

Our butler's close to 80.

He probably couldn't even mount a horse,
let alone gallop one across a lawn holding a lance.

- Well then who?
- You?

Take her and the other two down
to the potting shed.

I want everything in order
when Reggie returns.

- You killed Angus, didn't you?
- I poisoned Reggie's drink, if that's what you mean.

- Not my fault if Angus went and drank it.
- Does that go for Archie too?

Well, if the arrow hadn't gotten him, Nanny
and I would've taken him out sooner or later.

Now him!

Don't worry. You won't feel a thing,
and then you'll be mulch.

Run!

Are you all right? Eh?
Speak to me.

Thanks, old-
Thanks, old boy. Uh-oh.

Mind your manners, ladies.

Relax.

Here, here, what's going on?

Why, the ceremony starts in, uh-
in less than 10 minutes.

- There isn't going to be any ceremony.
- Why not?

A closer look at those documents
will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt...

that I am not Reginald Whitewood.

Forgive me, Your Grace...

but I don't understand your insistence
on denying the obvious.

Now I've spent the past two hours
poring over every word...

every nuance of these documents.

I assure you, all is in order.

Let me look at those.

You changed these, didn't you?

Without these papers,
there's no way of proving...

that I'm the heir
to the Rutherford estate, correct?

- Yes, sir, that is correct, but I-
- Ah.

Thank you very much.

Oh, Your Grace.

Ah, there you are. All packed?

- Daniel, we have to talk.
- Save it, dear boy. There'll be plenty of time for talk.

Daniel, I, um-
You know how I feel about you.

Well, I know I love you
like the son I never had.

Being with you these few days has been...
truly invigorating, Harry. Truly invigorating.

Which only makes what I have to tell you
all the more difficult.

- Tell me what?
- I can't accept this ticket to Paris.

It's tempting,
but the magic has gone.

- Harry-
- I've found a new life in Los Angeles, Daniel.

- A new life isn't everything.
- No, but at least it's a start.

- I mean, Laura and I, we seem to be-
- Excuse me.

Our cab is waiting.

Well, you mustn't miss your plane.

Ah. Hey.

I say, Daniel,
did you get the tickets from him?

Yes, dear.

We're all set.

- How well do you know the south of France?
- Not at all well.

Splendid. We'll open up my villa
and venture forth from there.

We must be prepared, Gwen.

One never knows where or when
one may encounter the real duke of Rutherford.

I hope it won't take
too awfully long.

Rest assured, my dear,
success is right around the corner.

- That's Mildred. Shall we, Mr. Steele?
- Hmm.

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