All language subtitles for The_Blackheath_Poisonings_S01E03_KimoiTV.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.

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, Rose. You're very unkeyed.

You're late.

You feel alright?

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 known or 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.

Here's your 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 declare 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.

I'm a bookmaker.

We invited 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 board 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, some small article of ladies habitationally, 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.

I am sure she will, sir. Please. A small token to show out his team.

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 token of his appreciation.

Next thing is a bit more realistic.

Come!

Be gracious.

How charming you look today.

What is it you want, Robert?

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.

Robert, do George and Charlotte know about your plans?

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.

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

Councillor, more!

Councillor, more!

Councillor, more!

Right, Mr.

Councillor.

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

the mere sideshow to the surface.

Very curious spectacle, though.

Oh, yes indeed.

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

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

It is wise, however. Form its very substance.

These letters are full of goings on. Members of the public,

members of juries do not approve of goings on.

Even so, sir. Goings on by themselves don't add up to murder.

Some juries will think they do.

And so, Mr. Morley, 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. Morley.

The only fault I have to find with your identification, Mr. Morley,

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. Morley?

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

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

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

That 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 Isabelle.

It's time you accepted the truth. Isabelle 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, Isabelle 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.

Where are you going?

Mr. Bertie, sir. What?

Could you tell me which one of these are the kind of...

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

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

The storm, don't you remember?

Vaguely.

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

Don't 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. Paul, wait. I'm going to charge. There was something odd. That woman on the Heath.

Mr. Van der Venden, 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 Venden's bedroom, in her capacity as nerves.

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

Yes, but not every single person in the house, Mr. Van der Venden, had been out buying our Snick a few days before, and Mr. Moll is dispensing.

Whatever anyone did or did not do to Moll is dispensery.

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

Now, Mr. Van der Venden, 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, that 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 vile at all.

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 Venden.

But there is new evidence, sir, I have new evidence. There was another woman, a veiled woman.

Objection, get rid of it.

Just to answer the questions, Mr. Van der Venden, no flax 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 ways out of a woman. A veiled woman, who put with my father in the office, and with my step-around on my feet.

This woman is vital to your effects. I am her, to introduce her, let her speak.

And, uh, 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 rotting with him and his comrades in the palace barracks.

Good luck! 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 doubt God did his best.

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

Pubby no butse-tav, I'll have the letters.

Oh, Roger.

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

Yeah, for hard deserves. Something. Before we can rent Owen, Mr. Wilfry.

He never came back. I knew he wouldn't. Well, he's dead, indeed. Of course.

And now, let us sign the contract.

Let me just get these little family difficulties sorted out first, and then, fall-stay-me-head.

George, is the only problem, 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 of your magic wand of love.

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

My whole flesh quivers. My breast throbs like a drum. My belly starts to sweat and juddah.

I think we have grasped the essence of the matter, Mr. APs. No need to go on and answer like a parrot.

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

Ah, Jack, my love, 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, and that gentleman of the jury, that the old worm was gnawing its way in to poison a succulent red apple.

No.

That could be for disappointments of false hopes.

She was in disguise.

Great hat and dark veil. Couldn't have been Isabelle.

No, he.

I am her, produce her, let her sweet.

Is that his hat? Careful.

Careful.

Mrs. Feller, what was in the next one position, Lieutenant?

Careful.

I'm so little used. How can you reject me?

And infatuated that lot of violence.

I will not wait in vain for them.

But not by a murder's.

The old worm was the old worm.

The old worm was the old worm.

I can't see her.

You may be looking after, don't you?

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

I think that's a nice one.

I thought you said nothing.

Please tell me.

You just came with me.

It's the way.

It's a sporting event, Governor.

Only three crowns of two.

Something out of the way, Governor.

Thank you.

You can't write here to the convention.

No more questions.

As you want to hear, she's very ugly ass.

You have a lot of fun at Broadway.

Stop playing at Hogwarts, Paul.

Your father was my lover.

Our father, what?

Isabel was a common whore.

You surely wouldn't wish to follow in your father's footsteps.

I feel a far closer member of this family.

Not for me, the wants of Villian and Beelzebub.

Like only soon as to love.

Common whore.

Common whore.

Father's footsteps.

My lover's home.

But our save is a bell card.

Are you guilty or not guilty of the crime where I'm not used to entourage?

I am not guilty, my lord, but one more.

You are not guilty.

You would like something less painful than this.

Much excitement, that's no blood.

After you sign.

You're the king.

You are not guilty.

You are not guilty.

You are not guilty.

You are not guilty.

You are not guilty.

You are not guilty.

This is Flossie and the Loose.

Our lady, hey, and this is Georgie.

And I'm going to be sorry.

I'm not this way.

Now don't be upset.

You're just as good as she is, you really are.

You look very pretty.

I can't get him.

Now just relax.

Let me do all the work.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

I'm the

sister.

I swear it was my life.

I'm innocent.

Where on earth have you been?

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

Hush, woman. I've been slaving over your family business, remember?

Um, word in your ear, Georgie?

If it's about business, you need to have nothing for us, Robert.

I need an answer.

Oh, yes.

We have here a proposal from Napier Nogut.

They wish to amalgamate with collard and van de vint.

They are by 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, please.

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 and the jimmit, 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.

Poor.

Darling, Paul, the letters were bound to come out anyway.

All the gold in the world were not abort off Jenkins because black maiders 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 sun 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?

It's so pretty amusing.

I know.

Now what?

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

What about the tram, Paul?

Do you think it would sell the tram?

You like corsets, 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 smooth I have to shave them.

Well, you would, wouldn't you?

I'd rather 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?

I thought I was a little careful.

Mother.

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

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

Kiss the girls and make them cry.

All I ever wanted to be was like her.

Like mother.

My mother.

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

A 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.

No, 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!

Nothing yet!

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Fizzing on the heat.

With the stars up there.

Oh, little Paulie.

I'm really very fond of you.

Georgina loves her 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.

Paulie 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 grateful, Mr. Vendervan, if you take me through this one more time.

Sergeant Davis is having difficulties.

There's no time.

Paulie 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 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 idly percocious allegations.

Uncle George confessed to me.

To what?

Sergeant Davis will explain.

With all new apologies to you, sir.

I mean, sir, Zahn Madams.

Must have Paulie 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 this?

This is an outrage.

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

And it's a win.

It's 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're a quiet boy.

Inspector, do you have any evidence?

No, sir.

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

No, wait.

Uncle George, you must tell him.

The truth.

What you told me.

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

I have enough you that lies, a wife that kills, and now it seems that I...

I am a transvestor and murderer.

What in heaven's name next?

Neither is to me, George, old man.

Inspector, this young lad is a little distracted.

It's understandable.

Yes.

Well, it seems 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.

Look, it's going to be a sartan.

The hands.

Wait! He cut his hand today at the warehouse.

Oh, yes, of course.

The lamp.

The lamp.

Nasty.

Good evening, Captain.

One more.

The lamp.

George, you poor, you're putting in pie.

Kiss the girls and make them die.

I'm on it, gentlemen.

Your husband, George, Collard is dead. Poisoned by our stick.

This time I must be innocent.

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

Thank you, Sir Charles.

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

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!

A policeman's not famous. He's not a happy one.

I swear it was one of that family.

They ordered something to hide.

Something rotten to cover up.

And cast on our boy, 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.

I don't, sir.

If God enjoys something more than punishing the murderer,

he's making a fool out of an inspector.

Yes, Father. 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-

I'm Kurt.

The head bearer will escort me to Mr. Kurt.

Coach Saab or Coach Hazoor?

Will escort me to his estate there in my store.

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 rearranging your future.

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 it into the firm. I beg you.

He deserves it 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 Isabel.

I have to tell you the truth.

Your husband killed my father in the step-ground.

But there was no proof.

I could not want you 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 that.

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

The answer is clear to me.

It was full of...

Love...

Of you.