All language subtitles for The_Blackheath_Poisonings_S01E03_KimoiTV.com (video-converter.com)

I'm telling you for the first and last time. Never come here like this again.

Totally. I got of your mind. Never come here again like this.

She died the same painful death my father did.

But none of you know what really caused it.

Asnic, sign Isabelle Collar.

The grounds that you did unlawfully and maliciously administer poison to one Roger Van de Vint

would intend to cause his death.

Good, good, good.

Well, there you have it, Sir Charles. Most illuminating.

However, for a family with so few secrets from each other, there can be only one source of information about these letters.

Their good lady author rests herself, Mrs. Collar. Isabelle.

What do you make about chances? I'm not a bookmaker.

Well, shall we?

But here we are, Robert. You're very unkey.

You're late.

You feel all right?

What do you think I feel? Isabelle could die while we sit here eating breakfast, lunch and Richard dinner.

How shall we help her?

Don't any of you know anything that may help her at a trial?

Well, what about those letters, Sir Charles spoke of? What was in them?

Nothing to your taste, I fancy. What do you think, George?

I know the no-no care who knows what filth my wife may have written.

George, please, can you say that?

Because Isabelle was a common whore. How dare you?

Paul! Paul!

She has made her bed and now she must lie in it.

My dear Beatrice, trust you to say it with a cliche only for once. The cliche is not only apt, but witty.

Is it Uncle George?

Don't you people care at all?

Young man, there is nothing we can do about this mess other than what we have done, which is to engage for Isabelle's defence, the most eminent and expensive barrister in England.

So now you grudge the money to you?

I suppose that otherwise you think it might seep through to you and Charlotte?

Now you will apologise to me and to Robert, Master Paul.

You're very well on, Charlotte. I apologise.

How could I have been so misguided, so wicked as to think that my father's death, to say nothing of step-grants, has helped you all get what you wanted.

And so, to the matter of the letters you wrote to the deceased.

You wrote them because you were never alone together in the family house. You sent them to the accommodation he rented, where he jetilated his last sis.

And mine.

By reading them aloud. And lastly, you declared that you made the letters to be destroyed.

Yes, Sir Charles.

However, some of them went astray in the post, were stolen, and later you were blackmailed.

Yes.

Now, you have been candid to say the least of it about the contents of the letters.

Are you prepared to have these obscenities read out before the court?

Yes.

Are you anything to add?

I... I don't think so.

I do not think so.

Come madam, you have been forthright so far. Do not have with me now.

I do not need to tell you that this is a matter of life and death.

I loved Roger Van de Vint.

I loved him with all my heart.

I know I've been foolish and afraid.

I've shamed myself with lies and secrets.

But my only crime has been my nature.

Too passionate for the life I should have led.

There's nothing more.

I'm not a brave woman, Sir Charles.

I only hope that what you've already heard will not dispose you to abandon my defence.

I never abandon anything.

I have accepted your case and I will fight to the finish for your acquittal.

And when I fight, I usually win.

Well, Sir Charles, she should be whipped for the new trollop that she is and ducked in the village Ponderkula.

But I'll lay my soul to a dog sovereign that she is not a murderous.

Do you indeed?

I thought you told us that you were not a bookmaker.

Ha ha ha ha!

I invite you to step this way, Sir.

In order not to embarrass you by arriving at your ass...

...with this.

Which, sir, when found in a locked drawer in your late mother sitting hall had this attached to it.

You will perceive, Sir, that it is a letter from the shop where this was bought naming you as the buyer.

I see I shall have to take you gentlemen into my confidence. May I?

Thank you. I have a friend who lives in Hampstead.

Whenever I visit her, I take her a little present,

so on a small article of ladies' habitationery, like this.

No doubt this was sent to my mother by mistake.

She also has had an account with the same shop.

My friend's address is 16 Heath Mansions.

I am sure she will confirm our longest association.

Sure she will, sir. Please.

A small token to show out her steam.

Thank you, sir.

Who is it? Police!

Just a minute.

Oh yes, Inspector. Mr. George is a regular visitor.

We read and discuss things together, you know. Mostly French literature.

He often brings us a nice, pretty, in token of his appreciation.

Next things are a bit more realistic.

Come!

Beershose. How charming you look today.

What is it you want?

I'm not sure.

I need you. I need your support for a radical business venture.

An expansion of collard and van devent.

Is that wise? Mother would turn on her grave if anything were to go wrong with the firm.

I'm sure she would have to be able to get her.

They cannot but act in the best interest of the firm.

They cannot but act in the best interest of the firm.

They cannot but act in the best interest of themselves.

I understand you, Beatrice. You're a creature of duty. I respect that.

But the life of duty must be rather dull.

Let me give you a new life. Freedom.

Under my new proposals, I could guarantee you a private income.

You need never see Albert Villa again.

I'm not sure.

I'm not sure.

I'm sure he's not sure.

I'm sure he's not sure.

You need never see Albert Villa again.

What do you say, Beatrice? Help me to help you.

Councillor Moo!

Councillor Moo Moo, Bob.

Councillor Moo, Bob.

Good boy, good boy.

Right, Miss Hup. I'll take it back to the villa.

So, and as apparently all there is to the George Collard and Court in the Fair.

A mere sideshow to the surface.

Very curious spectacle.

Oh, yes indeed.

But we must not allow puriant curiosity to dictate to us on these madasargent.

George Collard's dalliances have no bearing on the case.

He is wise, however. Form its very substance. These letters are full of goings on.

Members of the public, members of Dury's do not approve of goings on.

Even so, sir.

Goings on by themselves don't add up to murder.

Some Dury's will think they do.

And so, Mr. Moly, you are ready to swear that voice, dress, height, figure and general demeanor

of the woman in the dock corresponds absolutely with the woman who purchased three ounces of

arsenic from you on the aforesaid date.

Yes, sir. Oh, soldiers, hon.

Your oath will suffice, Mr. Moly.

The only fault I have to find with your identification, Mr. Moly, is that by your own deposition,

old soldiers honour and all.

The woman who bought arsenic of you on the aforesaid date was veiled.

Vailed as to her head, but not her feet.

Have you seen these boots before, Mr. Moly?

Yes, sir. They was worn by Mrs. Co...

They was worn by the veil, Grady, what bought the arsenic?

Lord, gentlemen of the jury, we shall later hear conclusive evidence from members of the household at Albert Villa.

The these boots belonged to the accused.

And I think they fell God's trees to print such filth.

Filth and lies, Bertie, filth and lies.

Oh, well, I admire the Christian innocence of your steadfast loyalty to Isabel.

It's time you accepted the truth.

Isabel was deranged with passion.

I saw her with my own eyes in your father's office.

He was furious. He was shouting at her, telling her never to come here again.

It was a lover's quarrel.

Bertie, Isabel would never have come here.

She was in disguise.

It's some great hat and dark veil.

Bertie, don't be absurd.

You're absurd, am I?

Well, let me tell you something. It was a day of the great storm. I remember it very clearly.

What? Oh, yes.

Thunder clouds on the Heathrantings and ravings in the office, all hell breaking loose on earth.

And where are you going?

Mr. Bertie, sir.

What?

Could you tell me which one of these are going to be?

No, no, these are not to go until later.

And Charlotte, you were there. You saw Isabel with me.

The storm, don't you remember?

Vaguely.

That day, Bertie saw a woman in the office. It couldn't have been Isabel. Isabel was with me.

I told you unceasing investigations caused enough trouble.

This woman is the real suspect. She may have had something to do with your mother's death.

You must have seen something. Anything.

No.

I'm poor. Wait.

I'm going to charge. There was something odd. That woman on the Heath.

Mr. Van der Vend. If your invalid father's drinks had been tampered with, I didn't beef tea, whiskey, whatever.

Mrs. Kullard was in an excellent position to tamper with him, being constantly in and out of Mr.

Van der Vend's bedroom in her capacity as nerves.

I mean...

Same could be said of every single person in the house.

No, it's not every single person in the house, Mr. Van der Vend.

Had been out buying arsenic a few days before, but Mr. Moll is dispensing.

Whatever anyone did or did not do to Mollie's dispensary.

I, for one, never saw a grain of arsenic in Albert Vitter.

Now, Mr. Van der Vend.

Let us turn our attention to the business of Mrs. Kullard's letters.

She gave you, I believe, a notion of what was in them and why she was so anxious to retrieve them from the Butler Jenkins.

She said...

She gave me to believe they were highly personal.

But they were love letters written to my father.

Love letters written to your father.

Of whose murder she stands accused in this court, absurdly accused.

For surely these letters were written by an infatuated but not violent woman.

All I really know is that they were letters written from the heart, she put it.

From the heart of a woman in love.

By a fool then.

But not by a murderous.

By a tender and open hearted woman.

Let me repeat, gentlemen of a jury.

By a fool.

A gullible fool.

But not a murderous.

Thank you, Mr. Van der Vend.

But there is new evidence.

Sir, I have new evidence.

There was another woman, a veiled woman.

Objection, get...

Just to answer the questions, Mr. Van der Vend.

No flags of fancy, please.

Simply answer the questions.

I think in any case that we should adjourn.

Sir Charles.

Sir Charles, I have new evidence.

There was another woman.

There are all the waves out of the willy.

A veiled woman who put with my father in the office and with my step-ren on my feet.

This woman is vital to your effects.

I heard her produce her, let her speak.

And, gentlemen of the jury, these letters are obscene.

Such letters as the vile Empress Messa-Lina might have penned some common soldier of her guard.

Before rutting with him and his comrades in the palace barracks.

For that, as my learned friend has already promised the jury that is scandal in the letters,

they are bound, such as human nature, to find it, even if it is not there.

I therefore submit that these letters be not now admitted as evidence at all.

Mr. Maypiece.

It must be clear, my lad, to any man of understanding, that this jury consists of men of intelligence

and experience, all amply qualified to make an objective judgment on this matter or any other.

Well, they all seem to have two legs to walk on and the head to talk with.

No, God, it is best.

So, let's be having the letters, Mr. Maypiece.

But the love! Pabino Buxetov, I'll have the letters.

Oh, Roger.

Our price, Mr. Maypiece does indeed wish to see the letter if you would get a follow me.

Yeah, more hard deserves.

Something is before week to rent Owen.

Mr. Wolfie, have I came back? I knew he wouldn't.

Well, he's dead, of course.

And now, let us sign the contract.

Well, let me just get these little family difficulties sorted out first and then...

...faulting ahead.

George is the only problem, now.

Hardly surprising given this squalid business with his wife.

I trust that your word will be on it.

Well, come, come now. What sort of questions that, from an old friend?

I've come this far.

Do you really think anyone else can stop me, go all the way?

Sam again.

Look, Trump.

How I worship every part of your body.

Your manhood, as it begins to flower in the crevice between the slender columns of your fives.

Columns which flare like those of a temple of Egypt to bear up your ripe round fesses.

And the hips, which are the power behind the probing to and fro so strong and yet so kind.

Mind of your magic wand of love.

How shall I describe the feeling that comes over me then?

My whole flesh quivers.

My breast frogs like a drum.

My belly starts to squate and juddle.

I think we have grasped the essence of the matter, Mr. Apies.

No need to go on and on, sir, like a parrot.

Are you even at just one more passage from the last of these letters, a letter that I have just received?

A jet maloved, this evidence is late.

It contains a particular passage which bears most significantly on the accused motive for murder.

Objection overruled.

Continue.

Hello.

I have noticed several times of late that you've made excuses to postpone or cancel our meetings.

How can you reject me now?

Promise me that you will keep our next assignation.

I will not wait in vain.

My only happiness is you.

Is there someone else?

I demand an explanation.

It is then as clear as day, lad, gentlemen of the jury, that the old worm was gnawing its way into poison, a succulent red apple.

No.

She was in disguise.

Couldn't have been Isabelle.

No, he.

Is that his hat?

Careful.

Mrs. Haller, what was in the next one position, gentlemen?

Careful.

I'm so little accused.

How can you reject me?

An infatuated about lots of violence.

I will not wait in vain.

Not by a nervous.

The old worm was the old word.

The old word was the old word.

The old word was the old word.

I can't see her.

You may be looking after, don't you?

Oh, it's nice, isn't it?

Who's that?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I think that's a nice thing.

I thought you said nothing.

Please, can't I?

You just came with me.

Oh, it's the way.

It's a sporting event governor.

Only three crowns of two.

Something out of the way, Governor.

Hey!

Look!

Look!

You cannot write New Years for legend.

No more questions to you.

We've very ugly answers.

We have a lot of fun at Broadwood.

Stop playing at Handwatch otport.

Your father is my lover.

Or found.

Isabel was a common whore.

You surely would wish to follow in your father's footsteps.

I feel a far closer member of this family.

Not for me that wants a villian and be a result of...

My only sin was denied.

Come on, nor whore.

Father's footsteps!

My love was cruel.

But our say is about colour.

Are you guilty or not guilty of the crime or are you a stand-through?

I am not guilty, my Lord, upon my own.

You would like something less painful than this.

Much excitement, not your blood.

I am not guilty.

I am not guilty.

You are a pain.

You are a pain.

You are a pain.

You are a pain.

You are a pain.

This is Flossie and the Loose.

Our lady, pay, and listen to Jordan.

And on the knees.

And on this way.

Now don't be upset.

You are just as good as she is.

You really are.

You look very pretty.

I can't get him.

I just relax.

Let me do all the work.

Yes.

Yes.

I am a person who is aware of my life.

I am a person who is aware of my life.

Where on earth have you been?

As a member of our family, your place is by our side, my side.

I have been slaving over your family business.

What in your ear, George?

If it is about business, you need nothing for us.

I need an answer.

Oh, yes.

We have here a proposal from Napier Nogut.

They wish to amalgamate with collard and van de Vent.

They are relieving us of our managerial responsibilities.

And no doubt creating new shares for our dear Robert.

In view of our present circumstances, I suggest we decline.

Without consultation?

Well, as your conversations were without consultation, yes.

Charlotte?

You should have learned by now, Robert, that the power of the firm

always rests in the hands of the family.

There is no choice.

Isabelle Collard, the finding of this journey is that you are guilty of the crimes with which you have been charged.

I therefore decree that you should be taken hence to the place from which you came,

and thence to another place where you may make your peace with God.

And thence to the yard wherest enth a jibit, from which you shall be hanged by the neck until you are dead.

And may the Lord have mercy upon your soul.

I've come to us for your forgiveness, your charity.

Charity is the old word for love.

As for my forgiveness, what is that to forgive?

I tried to help. I interfered.

Only because I asked you to.

I bungled.

Thought I could help, but I was stupid and willful.

I did what you asked me not to. I tackled Jenkins myself.

Paul.

Well, darling, Paul, the letters were bound to come out anyway.

All the gold in the world were not abort off Jenkins because blackmailers always want more.

Why did you have to go to my father's bed?

Would you have come to mind if I'd asked you?

Then you should understand why I went to his.

And yet I could never have loved you like that, Paul.

I'm deeply sorry if ever I made you think I could.

I loved you.

I loved you like the son I didn't have.

Then I am honoured and ashamed.

No need to be ashamed, Paul.

Our bodies yearned to follow their true nature.

I followed mine, and I'm to be punished.

Punished for a crime I didn't commit.

Society wants to see me damned.

And damned I'll be, but at least I've lived my life to the full.

As you must yours.

Promise me.

My only comfort has been my love of your father.

And you.

Uncle George.

Aren't they pretty poor?

Is that pretty amusing?

I know.

Now what?

You'd like to dress up as a woman, don't you?

What about the triumph hall?

Do you think it would sell? The triumph?

You'd like corset's Georgina.

And rings on your fat fingers and your ugly hands.

Oh, Paul. I'm proud of my hands, my lovely hands.

And my arms.

I have to shave them so small, and I have to shave them, you see.

Well, you would, wouldn't you?

Father saw you in the office. It was you here dressed as a woman.

My whore of a wife told Roger about me about my ridiculous attempt at a marriage.

So you killed him and avenged yourself on her at the same time.

You dressed up as Isabel and signed her name for the poison.

Clever Georgina, what a wise and clever girl she is.

A little bedtime drink for Roger, that's all.

And everybody thought it was my darling wife.

Isabel.

How could you do it? Not my fault.

Mother.

Oh, she loved me when I was a little boy.

Oh, yes. Georgie, Borgie, Bully and Pie.

Kiss the girls and make them cry.

Oh, I ever wanted to be with like her.

Like mother. My mother.

But then she turned against me, caught me on the heat.

An nasty man with nasty habits.

That's well I knew I had to go with her as well.

Yes. The night of the birthday party. You know her. Not me.

Georgina. She gave mother a little something extra with her supper.

One oyster rotten. Just the thing to do and nobody even noticed.

Isabel is innocent. She's going to die.

That's right.

Isabel was unkind to me. She wouldn't play with me, but she would play with your father.

Nothing yet!

And nothing yet!

Oh, dear.

Oh, dear.

Oh, dear.

With the stars up there.

Oh, little Bully.

I'm really very fond of you.

Georgina loves the little nephew and she hates her hurt him badly.

Hurt him like his auntie Isabel was going to get the rope around her dainty throat.

But Bully mustn't have any ideas about going to the police. Oh, no, no.

Because Georgina saw him scattered the poison all over the park.

Olga. Olga on her way.

I wouldn't be great for Mr. Vendervan if you take me through this one more time.

Sergeant Davis is having difficulties. There's no time.

But he must have cleared up. Look, this is where he changed.

And this is where you say the garments were housed.

I must have been. I saw him come in here.

We've got to get back to the house.

Mr. Teeny, we need a signature, Georgie.

Yes.

I've come with the police to arrest the real murderer.

Uncle George.

Steady on, lad.

You're here to investigate some idperspochos allegations.

Uncle George confessed to me.

To what?

Sergeant Davis will explain.

With all new apologies to you, sir. I mean, Sir Zion Adams.

Must have Pauli alleges that Mr. George poisoned Mr. Roger and your mother.

And that he's in the practice of dressing up in...

Very on, Sergeant.

Women's undergarments.

And what is your informed opinion of these allegations, gentlemen?

This is an outrage.

How dare you come into our home, Inspector, to talk such malicious nonsense.

I've got a host of them after the morning.

And it's when Titt Marsh has the worthy institution of the Black Heath Police.

Moved at the behest of a love sick boy,

half crazed with passion for a convicted criminal.

My high office, madam,

precludes me from refraining to investigate any possibility

that that criminal might be unjustly convicted.

We have any proof?

I saw the clothes.

You require a boy.

Inspector, do you have any evidence?

No, sir.

And I think you should leave at once, don't you?

No, wait.

Uncle George, you must tell them.

The truth. What you told me.

Well, I don't know what I've done in my life to warrant this.

I have a nephew that lies, a wife that kills,

and now it seems that I am a transvestor and murderer.

What in heaven's name next?

Leave this to me, George, all that.

Inspector, this young lad is a little distracted.

It's understandable.

Yes.

Well, it seems an apology is perhaps not a good thing.

An apology is perhaps called for, ladies and gentlemen.

You will, I'm sure, appreciate our diligence

in pursuing every avenue of possibility.

Yes, quite.

Let's go and play a starter.

The hand.

Wait.

He cut his hand today at the warehouse.

Oh, yes, of course.

The lamp.

Oh, no.

I'm going to do that.

I'm going to go with the

station now.

The hand?

Wait.

He cut his hand today at the warehouse.

Oh, yes, of course.

The lamp.

Nasty.

Good evening, Captain.

One more.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

I'm honored, gentlemen.

Your husband, George Collarhead, is dead.

Poison by our stick.

This time I must be innocent.

The whole secretary is compelled therefore to grant you a reprieve.

Thank you, sir Charles.

This was not of my doing much as I wished it so.

Helen, you're free to go.

Free to go.

Go where?

So now, sir, we shall never know the answers.

A policeman's not famous.

He's not a happy one.

Happy one.

I swear it was one of that family.

They all have something to hide.

Something rotten to cover up.

And cast on out by Sergeant.

Don't forget that.

All this evidence and still no murderer.

Somebody must be laughing now, sir.

God won't make him laugh on the other side of his face.

I don't, sir.

If God enjoys something more than punishing the murderer,

he's making a fool out of an inspector.

Yes, welcome. I'm quite clear.

When I disembark at Bombay, I should be met by the senior Indian servant.

The head bearer?

Of your friend, Mr. George Dela-Mankotz.

Head bearer will escort me to Mr. Collarhead.

Coach Saab or Coach Hazoor?

Will escort me to his estate there, my soul.

Where Coach Saab, who is in need of a wife.

A men's arm?

His own having recently deceased.

We'll do me the honour of marrying me.

I wish I was coming with you.

But as you know...

We have not been friends, Mr. Dangerfield.

But you have done me a great service in disposing of me.

And are you ranging your future?

For the train!

Hurry, lon, man!

Hurry, lon, man! Forward train!

I wish you luck with the family, Robert.

And the firm.

You'll certainly need it.

I was sure Paul would be here.

I wanted to tell him how much.

Don't take him into the firm. I beg you.

He deserves to live.

As you go.

Paul! I thought you weren't coming.

What's this?

I want you to know.

Know what?

I love you.

My dearest Isabelle, I have to tell you the truth.

Your husband killed my father in a step-ground.

But there was no proof.

I could not want you to die for his crimes.

So I killed him.

Poisoned him just as he poisoned the others.

There was no other way to save you we must always believe at.

Do not question what I did, Isabelle. Only why I did it.

The answer is clear to me.

It was full of...

Love...

Love you.

Love you.

Love you.