All language subtitles for Father Brown S04E05 The Daughter of Autolycus.DVDRip.NonHI.en.BBC

- Gas board, miss.
- The meter's at the top of the stairs.

The Pope's coronation gift to
Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth

has left Vatican City on the
first leg of its journey to London.

The Pelagius Cross,
a magnificent necklace

comprised of
emeralds and rubies,

is said to be beyond price.

It will be accompanied to London
by representatives of His Holiness

and a cohort of Swiss Guards.

The Papal prelates will visit

the Roman Catholic Dioceses
of Liverpool and Gloucester

before arriving in London,

where the gift will be
presented to Her Majesty

at a state banquet at
Buckingham Palace.

In nomine patris et filii
et spiritus sancti, amen.

Ah! Father, how very propitious.
We were just on our way to find you.

You've seen the news, then.
- Such an honor.

Not that the likes of
us will get a glimpse.

That is where you
are wrong, Mrs M.

I thought you should see this.

It's all very last-minute and
hush-hush, what with high security.

"Bishop Reynard requests
the pleasure of your company

"at a reception to present
the Pelagius Cross."

Idiot!

Not you, Mrs McCarthy.

- He makes Bishop Talbot...
- God rest his soul.

- ..look like Solomon.
- Are you thinkin’ what we're thinking?

Opportunity makes a thief.

Sheffield steel,

capable of withstanding
five pounds of explosives.

You could dynamite the building
and it would be left standing.

That is of huge consolation.

I'm stationing four men inside the
room and two more outside the door.

No entry or exit
from the window.

A sheer drop of 50
feet to the ground

with a reassuring
lack of footholds.

Good afternoon, Bishop Reynard.

Father Brown.

Which one?

My Lord?

I have two incumbents
name of Brown.

Parish of Little Haydock,
"competent but uninspired",

and Kembleford,
"total ruddy liability."

Which, I wonder, are you?

- Take a wild guess.
- What do you want, Padre?

I believe you're holding a
reception for the Pelagius Cross.

If you're angling
for an invitation

I regret your
presence isn't requisite.

It's not my presence you
should be worried about.

Are you familiar with the
name of Hercule Flambeau?

Who isn't?

But what makes you think
he'll turn up in Gloucester?

Call it an educated guess.

I know what I'd call it.

It's exactly the prize he would
covet and the opportunity he needs.

He'd have to blow the safe
without razing the building

and escape on wings.

Until the jewel is removed from
the safe for display to all and sundry.

To a select group of
highly vetted guests.

Where it will be
surrounded by my men.

If Frenchie's moronic enough
to turn up, we'll nab him.

He's a master of disguise.

I assume there's
a point to all this.

I'm one of the few people
that can identify him.

Let me be your eyes
and ears, my Lord.

You can see yourself out.

I answer to a higher
authority than you, Inspector.

Indeed he does.

Very well, Father. You've
a file thicker than my arm

but unlike my predecessor,
I believe in keeping

the more intransigent
elements where I can see them.

On your own head.

But for the record,

one of the cardinals is tipped
to be the next Secretary of State.

Embarrass me and the torments of
Job will be like the mildest of rebukes.

Whoever described England
as green and pleasant

had never laid
eyes on Liverpool.

Or eaten its food.

What news from Rome?

Is there any word on
Cardinal Brunocelli?

There is no change
in his condition.

He has remarkable
stamina for a man of 98.

Any rumors as to his successor?

His Eminence has decided
to wait until his body is cold

before announcing
his replacement.

Allora, let us pray for him.

This is becoming tedious.

Humble acts of genuflexion -
they always appear so conceited.

Deference is a virtue that
has sadly passed you by.

I hear you're playing
guard dog at the reception.

Isn't that what you want? You're
in danger of becoming predictable.

Never second-guess a thief.

It limits your chances
of catching them.

You want to steal the Pelagius
Cross and I want to stop you.

The rules have changed.

This time I need your help.

Her name is Marianne Delacroix.

She was kidnapped two days
ago from her lodgings at Oxford.

My name is Nero Hound.

Please don't scream.
There's no-one to hear you.

You've made a mistake. I've
no family to pay you ransom.

I don't make mistakes,
Miss Marianne Delacroix.

Born 2nd June 1931.

Educated at Cheltenham
Ladies College and the Sorbonne.

Now taking your PhD in Fine
Art at St Hilda's College, Oxford,

where you have many
acquaintances but no real friends

and live alone with
your cat, Autolycus.

Do you know who
Autolycus was, Terry?

He was the son
of the god Hermes,

inheriting his father's
skills for theft and trickery

and bequeathed the gift that his
thieving could never be caught.

An unusual name for
a pet, Miss Delacroix.

What do you want?

Please, no...

Oh, rest assured, I
prefer my women... willing.

And I desire something far
more precious than your virtue.

I received this.

A ransom note?

Crude but efficacious.

The sender was good
enough to leave his signature.

A dog.

A black dog. The
mark of Nero Hound.

A miscreant mongrel
with dangerous aspirations.

Friend of yours?

An old score to settle.

He'd cut her throat
in a heartbeat.

She's very beautiful.

Although, if you don't
mind my saying...

..she's rather young
for you, isn't she?

She's my daughter.

You know my father?

Better than most.

Then you have me at
another disadvantage.

I know he's the only man that
can steal the Pelagius Cross

from a cohort of Swiss Guards.

My father abandoned
me before I was born.

He abandoned me to a
Colombian firing squad.

So we have something in common.

And if he doesn't
bring you this jewel?

Be assured, I'll take no
pleasure in killing you.

I've never met the man.

What makes you think
he cares if I live or die?

Pride.

He has until 7pm on Monday.

Her mother?

A ballerina in the
corps at the Paris Opera.

A brief pas de deux.
Strangers passing in the night.

A stranger who bore you a child.

I thought you'd approve.

What?

I spared her my corrupting
presence and honored my obligations.

Denied her father's love.

You of all people should
know how that feels.

She received every advantage.
The finest education money can buy.

And in return?

I received a photograph
once a year from her mother.

Look, you've reason
enough not to trust me.

The truth is in her eyes.

I believe she's your daughter.

And you have surprised me.

What do you want?

I want you to practice
what you preach.

Excluding the eighth
commandment, presumably.

But not the tenth.

Greed is a sin and your
church is rotten with it.

The Pope is St Peter's successor.
Theft from him is theft from God.

A God who favors
the poor over the rich.

You could say, I
was doing him a favor.

And my soul?

You preach that
possessions are worthless.

Only God and men
have eternal value.

You would blackmail
me with my own morality?

Oh, I'll do whatever it takes.

And you would rather a theft
on your conscience than a life.

I believe you want to save her.

Perhaps, after all, there is
some hope for your redemption.

Run that by me again.

Flambeau wants you to help
him steal the Pope's coronation gift

to the Queen of England.

Well, he wants me to look
the other way while he steals it.

And what's the difference?

Well, I'm hoping God
will make the distinction.

And you would see
through his disguise.

He's not involving her as well.

I can speak for myself,
thank you, Sidney.

And you believe this
cock and bull story of his?

I believe that
she's his daughter.

Father Brown's right. The
resemblance is startling.

So what if she is? They're
probably in it together.

I don't think so.
Look at her eyes.

Ah. You've noticed that as well?

If this were a ploy she'd
be trying to look scared.

But that's not
fear. It's defiance.

This is the Pope's gift to Her
Majesty we're talking about.

In my experience, Mrs McCarthy,
jewels are vastly overrated.

Welcome, Your Eminence.

Inspector Mallory from the
Kembleford Constabulary,

may I present
Cardinal Bonipogio...

Head of Protocol.

..and Cardinal Papillon.

Chief of Security.

I think you'll find my arrangements
more than satisfactory.

May I?

Certo, certo! Bene, bene!

Scusi, scusi.

Oh. Magnificent.

Her Majesty is indeed fortunate.

Si. Si.

Excellent.

Bon.

Who else has the combination?

Only the Inspector and myself.

And I will require it in
case of emergencies.

In the meantime, four of my
men will stand 24-hour guard.

The jewel has its own guard.

With respect, Your Honor...

how do I know I can trust 'em?

No more than I know
if I can trust yours.

We have a saying here in
England - "The more the merrier."

And another one. "Too
many cooks spoil the broth."

I asked for your
help, not your army.

Well, someone has to make
sure you don't double-cross him.

Countess. As fragrant as ever.

You can save your Gallic charm
for whoever gets to judge you.

Tea's in the pot.
You can help yourself.

I take it you encountered
some resistance.

Asking the Father
to help you thieve!

He can cleanse himself
in the confessional.

I look forward to that.

I suppose you've got
some sort of ingenious plan.

Naturally.

Bishop Colum Cormac.

Suitable in terms
of height if not build.

Traveling from Donegal
for the reception,

where he will unfortunately
be delayed en route.

Holy Mother. Now he's
going to kidnap a bishop.

With Cormac safely indisposed,
I will step in and take his place.

Once inside, it's a
simple Panama switch.

Magnificent.

Simple and ingenious.

And impossible. It would take a
master forger months if not years

to make a forgery
that would pass muster.

Plan B, however, is hastily
improvised and shameful in its crudity.

Magnificent.

Nobody move or
the priest gets it.

Ha!

That's your master plan?

That is the worst
idea I have ever heard.

If I had time to be inventive, do
you think I'd require assistance?

Taking Father Brown hostage won't
hold much sway with the Inspector.

He'd probably give the
order to shoot through you.

He's right. He would.

It's the best I have.
And at worst, I tried.

You'll have to use me instead.

All hell would break loose if you
shot the Countess of Montague.

I have no cause to
deserve your help.

I'm not doing it
for you, Monsieur.

Thank you.

Were you aware my
predecessor nicknamed you

"The Eleventh Plague of Egypt"?

Bishop Talbot's
wit was legendary.

I share his sense of
humor, but not his tolerance.

So if I can prevail on
you to behave yourself...

Ah, Your Eminences.
This is Father Brown.

Father Brown? He is
not on the guest list.

- No. He is, er...
- Internal security.

Cardinals Bonipogio
and Papillon.

Cardinal Bonipogio.

Cardinal Papillon.

Are you related to
Procurator Papillon?

An uncle.

My family has been breeding
papal courtiers for centuries.

There have been Papillons
in the Vatican since 1790.

My colleague, on the other hand,
as the son of a circus performer,

demonstrates just how
modern-day the Curia has become.

My father was an artiste.

He was feted by the kings
and queens of Europa.

Cesare Bonipogio,
the Great Marvel.

Si, you are clearly more
educated than some, Father.

It is said he could
turn water into wine.

And then into brandy
and back into water again!

Crude trickery!

The last of the guests have
arrived. Shall we go inside?

Oh, Bishop!

Colum... Cormac.

Nice place you have here.

Welcome to Gloucester. I
trust you had a good journey.

Uneventful, thanks be to God.

Haven't we met before?

I don't think so.

In the Parochial
House in Drumkeen.

I could have sworn you
were losing your hair.

Bishop Reynard. What a
pleasure to see you as always.

Countess. How honored
we are by your presence.

I can't wait to get a
glimpse of the cross.

I can barely contain myself.

My Lords, ladies and gentlemen,

may I present the
Pelagius Cross!

Guards, secure the
building! Maintenant!

Go back to the
Presbytery. Meet me there.

I'll be a couple of hours. Oh,
and, Terry, when I get back,

I expect to find the
young lady as I left her.

What shall I do with
the guests, Inspector?

None of them
went within feet of it.

Take statements, search
them and let them go.

Yes, sir.

It must have been
taken from the safe.

- Impossible.
- Or a miracle.

Except I don't
believe in miracles.

Please be careful. That is a
holy reliquary blessed by Il Papa.

You failed me, Father.

You said if he turned
up you'd raise the alarm.

This wasn't Flambeau's work.

For once, me and the
Padre are in agreement.

Unless he's invisible and
can walk through walls.

Then how do you explain it?

Elementary. A-it was a miracle

or B - it was an inside job.

What are you suggesting?

As there were only three of
us who knew the combination,

it rather narrows our options.

I hope no-one's
pointing the finger at me.

It seems we are all
under suspicion, non?

Don't try to deflect the blame.

His Holiness placed his trust
in you and you have failed him.

You have brought disgrace
on the name of the Holy See.

I will be tendering my resignation,
but there is work to be done.

We'll all be tendering our
resignations unless it's found.

It didn't magic
itself into thin air.

If it was an inside job, chances
are it's still in the building.

Are you sure it was...

Yes.

The cross disappeared
from the safe.

In a locked room
surrounded by guards.

I commend the
mastermind that did it.

What will you do?

I have until seven o'clock,
when I'll go to the drop

and kill Hound
with my bare hands.

I'm sure it won't come to that.

You'd rather I defeated
him with platitudes?

I mean, Inspector Mallory
thinks it's an inside job,

so the cross may still
be in the Bishop's Palace.

A palace with over 100 rooms.

You're unusually silent...

- Shush!
- Let the man think.

We're looking at this
the wrong way round.

A jewel vanishes from a
locked and guarded safe,

which we all know is impossible.

I assume there's
a point to this?

Let's not dwell
on the impossible.

Let's look to the probable.

The jewel wasn't stolen.

Father!

My Lord.

Breaking news.

Bishop Cormac was found stripped
and naked in Kembleford Wood.

Flambeau's work.

Obviously the police are
keen to talk to you but after that

I expect my "eyes and ears"
explanation on tenterhooks.

Shall we say two o'clock?

Mallory.

I'd love to stay and chat,
but I have a prior engagement.

Hang about.

Parlor window.

Brings you out the
back of the churchyard.

Please, go upstairs and
give me until six o'clock.

You expect me to believe
you'll find the jewel?

You have no choice.

Six o'clock. Then I'll
do whatever I have to.

Oh, gentlemen.

I think you need some
new spectacles, Padre.

Help! Fire, help!

What the...?

Ecclesiastical security.

You won't find it in there.

Flambeau has it.

Bishop Cormac made
a positive identification,

which is more than
can be said for you.

So what have you
got to say for yourself?

I'm truly sorry.

Don't play the repentance
card. Do something.

If the jewel isn't recovered
before tomorrow, I'm ruined.

They'll send me to
Coventry. Literally.

And make no mistake,
you'll be coming with me.

- Is that clear?
- Perfectly.

As for the thief, may God have
more mercy on his soul than I will.

Inside.

You're more like your
father than I realized.

And just as irritating.

Now you leave me no
choice but to punish you.

I can't wait any longer.

You stay right where you are.

- Are you not going to say anything?
- She's his daughter, Mrs M.

And if I don't go now,
you'll be praying for her soul.

Need a wingman?

You don't know Nero Hound.

I wouldn't have your
life on my conscience.

Always knew you had one.

Dear God! He's stolen
the Queen's jewel.

I doubt she'll care. What on
earth would she wear it with?

Who? And how?

At the moment, that's
the least of your concerns.

I suppose I'm in your debt.

I'm coming with you.

You'd only slow me down.

It's not a request.

If Hound has harmed
a hair on her head...

he'll be needing a priest.

Time?

Um...

A minute to seven.

Nero! I have the jewel!

Something's wrong.

- She's not here.
- So there's still hope.

I will tear him limb from limb.

I didn't know you cared.

Allo, Papa.

- Where's Hound?
- Then again...

He's locked in the cellar
and his thug's in the outhouse.

Did they hurt you?

Not as much as I hurt them.

You overpowered two men?

I had no high
expectations of your arrival.

Where's the jewel?

I have questions first.

In case you hadn't noticed,
I'm the one holding a gun.

Come on.

The smell in here is
making me sick. Chop chop.

That won't be necessary.
You know I'm no threat.

I don't know you from Adam.

I don't even know
what to call you.

Papa? Monsieur Flambeau?

Daddy seems rather informal
given our lack of acquaintance.

I wouldn't worry about it.

Our touching reunion
will be short and sweet.

The jewel?

I'm curious to see the
object worthy of my life.

I'm flattered.

Russian baroque.

Maxim Korytov.

I'm surprised
you didn't keep it.

It would sit well in
Le Voleur's collection.

Given our lack of acquaintance,
you know a lot about me.

I've studied your career
since my mother's death,

when I discovered the identity
of my "secret benefactor".

The Star of David,
the St Jerome triptych...

It was you who stole
the St Jerome triptych?

The Duchess of
Bourbon's diamonds...

That wasn't me.

I did wonder. The theft
was cruder than usual.

How did you escape?

I waited for Hound to
leave and started a fire.

Unfortunately he returned
earlier than expected.

You're more like your
father than I realized.

And just as irritating.

Now you leave me no
choice but to punish you.

You expect me to believe you
shot a gun from his hand at 20 feet?

Hardly. I was way off my mark.

I was aiming for his heart.

You need to
account for the recoil.

I'm much more at ease
with a fencing saber.

Rest assured, the money lavished
on my education was well spent.

I gave you every advantage.

Except one.

You were better off without me.

Only I can be the judge of that.

I bear no resemblance
to my mother.

As a child I'd look in the mirror
and see the face of a stranger.

Like half of me was missing.

I'll make a cup of tea.

Please don't shoot me.

Is the priest real?

Very. So I'd advise you
to watch what you say.

You keep strange friends.

He's no friend of mine.

I thought we understood
each other rather well.

You stole the jewel for me.

Technically, I stole it.

And if it's not returned I will
spend the rest of my life in Coventry.

Parts of it are quite pleasant.

I hear they're building
a new cathedral.

Ha, ha.

A pet priest stealing from his
own. Why would he do that for you?

Moral blackmail.

A victim of his own conscience.

He really is a priest.

My God sets no store
by earthly treasures.

Your God is a killjoy.

What news?

Interpol have been alerted and are
watching every entry port to France.

There is still hope.

Not for Cardinal Brunocelli.

God rest his soul.

And still no word
of his successor.

Although that will be of
little interest to you now.

I thought you were dead.

You left me for dead
in a Bogota prison.

An ungallant way
to treat your partner.

I didn't like your methods.

I didn't expect you to
be quite so squeamish.

- How did you esc...?
- Be quiet.

Your daughter has
very pretty hands.

But not so deft at tying knots.

You have what you
want. Now she will leave.

Not yet.

We had a deal.
The jewel for the girl.

I have a new
score to settle now.

Your brat shot off
one of my fingers.

You and I will negotiate
compensation in private.

In the meantime you have
the cross and she WILL leave.

Go. Now. Both of you.

No!

It's profoundly biblical.

An eye for an eye.

Or in this case,
a hand for a hand.

You're wounded.

I'll live long
enough to kill him.

Stop! Stop! Vengeance
is the Lord's alone.

Back off, priest!
This is not your battle.

Unless you want a life on
your conscience, stop him.

Please, don't kill
him on my account.

The prize is mine.

I would say au revoir, but
once the police are alerted

to your whereabouts, you're
looking at 30 years with parole.

Goodbye, Nero.

Will you return the
jewel to the priest?

He risked his all for me.

He'll get his reward in heaven.

What?

I warned you'd be
better off not knowing me.

So what happens now?

I need to sit down.

To us?

You will return to your studies.

My PhD is almost complete.

A catalog of the finest
private collections in Europe.

With the owners' full
co-operation, naturally.

After that, there are limited career paths
open to orphan girls of good education.

Perhaps you're in need
of some fatherly advice.

Guard this. He isn't
as simple as he looks.

He's lucky. The bullet
passed right through.

I don't believe in luck.

Can you find something
to make bandages with?

What are you doing?!

What? Making up for lost time.

Let her go.

We've only just met. Now
you expect me to let her go?

You're her father, you
should protect her...

Unfounded, given
recent turn of events.

..from whatever unholy
alliance you are planning.

She'd make a worthy pupil.

And how long till she's
corrupted and defiled

and her heart is
as black as yours?

Now you're in danger
of being predictable.

The difference is, I now know
that you have a conscience.

This is the only
antiseptic I could find.

Ready?

Ready.

Take the jewel if you must.

But she is innocent.
Do not take her soul.

Yours are not the only
wounds that need attending.

Flambeau, stop!

I went to school with the
daughter of the Marquis of Apreville.

His security is highly flawed.

And his Netsuke are magnificent.
And extremely portable.

Would you have
mown down the priest?

Ha! He had his
God to protect him.

How does it feel to take a life?

That's an inappropriate question
for a young lady of breeding.

I ask because part of me
wishes you had killed Hound

and part of me regrets I didn't.

You need a doctor.

No doctors.

Then some surgical needle
and thread and I'll stitch it.

This is as far as we go.

I don't understand.

You are a remarkable young
woman but if I'd wanted a daughter,

do you think I'd have
waited 23 years to find you?

We have a connection.

You don't know me from Adam.

I know you feel something.

Guilt? Regret?

I would never allow
such self-indulgence.

You're making a mistake.

I am you.

Together we could be invincible.

The jewel, if you please.

We won't meet again.

So long, Marianne.

It's not there.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

A jewel vanishes into
thin air from a locked safe.

Must be magic.

But magic doesn't exist.

Only illusion.

And who knows that better...

..than the son of
The Great Marvel?

A few adjustments to
the casket is all it took.

Excellent.

Flambeau has it.

He must have
switched the caskets.

I have taken a vow of poverty.
What value is a bauble to me?

Priceless, in terms of ambition.

With Cardinal
Papillon discredited,

the Secretary of
State's position is yours.

Forgive me, Father,
for I have sinned.

It has been one day
since my last confession.

You'd hold me to the sacred seal
to ruin an innocent man's career?

I wouldn't expect a rural priest to
understand the niceties of politics.

I don't expect God does either.

Well, well, Father,
aren't you the surprise?

This was delivered to the
police station addressed to you,

so naturally I opened
it, and lookee here...

I'm agog as to how
you explain this.

I can't.

But what I do know is under
the seal of the confessional.

You'll have to do
better than that.

There's not another man in this room
that would agree with that statement.

Quite. Even so, you
must have something?

What I can say is that

His Holiness has cause to look
favorably on Cardinal Papillon.

I don't know what
he's talking about.

Your humility is
a credit to you.

Indeed it is.

You can rely on me to convey knowledge
of his assistance to the Holy Father.

So all's well that ends well.

It ended well for Papillon.

He's been appointed
Cardinal Secretary of State.

Why would Flambeau
return the jewel?

I've been thinking
the same thing myself.

Touche, ma fille!

It certainly seems
out of character.

Hello.

One of his little games.

Or maybe the man has
finally found a conscience.

Maybe he has.