Original subtitles

[No audio]

[Sea gulls crying]

Oh, yes, it is.

[No audio]

[Speaking indistinctly]

Would you credit?

They're everywhere. You can't get away from them.

Man: Don't let him come in. He's a loony.

Woman: Sweets to the sweet.

Oh, God, what is it?

Man: Better get rid of it.

It's putting us off our food.

Woman: No way am I talking to that.

I'll do it.

Bugger off, you!

I've been doing the accounts.

And?

If you want to pay for office space,

telephone, bookkeeper--

you'd be bankrupt several times over.

You've forgotten the Italians, �300.

Gone. The 1500 you got way back

when you first started, long gone.

Too long between jobs.

And it's no good telling me to cut Geoffrey's wages.

He gets no more than pocket money as it is.

We could put another advert in the paper,

just a little one,

well-crafted and in a good position.

Except they'd want cash.

They would.

After last time, they would.

I won't give up, Robert.

I'm not asking you to give up, Hetty.

We need a higher profile, that's what it is.

[Sprays]

Man: Oh, yes! Oh, yes!

Magnificent offer!

Don't miss your opportunity.

For one day only in this town.

Discretion guaranteed.

Oh, yes! Oh, yes!

Oh, yes!

Uh-huh.

You could have brought me one of those.

It wouldn't be suitable, Mrs. Wainthropp.

You like the freedom of movement

for complicated eating.

You get ketchup all over your chin.

Cheeky!

I'd take over from you,

you know I would,

but me shoulders aren't wide enough.

Straps would keep slipping.

Excuse me. Are you free for consultation?

Woman: Oh, too smart for his own good,

that one, I used to say.

Had a wonderful brain.

I was shopping in the market,

and I saw your board,

and I thought if I don't do something now, I never will.

So I ran after you.

It's foolish. Impulse.

Reg won't have him in the house, you see.

Reg is your husband?

Woman: Yes.

He's a dental surgeon.

He just won't put up with Michael anymore.

Well, you can't expect it, not from a professional man.

I hate dentists.

Woman: It's the label, you see.

We never call it schizophrenia.

A nervous breakdown is the expression we used.

Everyone knew,

and it was bad for the practice.

What you're asking people to pay for bridgework these days,

and Michael not being Reg's own son.

Oh, just talking about him, I can't keep still.

Could you take it more in order?

You may be losing me.

I was 3 months' pregnant when we married.

We couldn't have children of our own, as it turned out.

Reg never...

I mean, he never blamed.

He was a father to Michael.

He was so proud.

School exams, university--

encouragement always.

"You drive that boy too hard," I'd say.

"Oh, not a bit of it."

And then...

Have you something more recent,

a snapshot, something smaller?

No, there's nothing recent.

Michael changed, you see.

The first time he went into hospital,

we thought it'd make him better.

And he was, but...

not the same,

not like himself.

He'll never be that.

There's things you can't explain to people,

little things,

like not getting out of bed in the morning,

washing and getting dressed.

He didn't see the necessity.

"I'm not going anywhere," he'd say.

It's the point of view, I suppose.

Yes, it is,

but Reg didn't understand it.

He'd always pushed Michael.

He'd say, "You have to push that boy

or he'll never get anywhere in life."

It wasn't a happy atmosphere.

And then you moved away...

sold up, came here, started again.

Um, not at once.

Michael got sick again.

Right.

And when he came out of hospital,

Reg wouldn't have him home.

They found him a bedsitter,

but, um, he'd come over to see me,

and he didn't want to leave.

You can't put him out in the street.

But your husband did.

Mmm.

Oh, it's only the once, but...

it brought on the symptoms.

Worse?

Mmm.

Talking silly and...

stopping people in the street,

wandering into places.

He tried to walk through glass once.

It was just a mistake, I think.

And the canal.

That was in the paper.

And Reg said, "He's beyond our help, Hilda.

"He's not our responsibility.

We do him more harm than good."

And we moved and came here.

What happened to Michael's real father?

Oh.

He was hit by a train.

It could have been an accident,

but they said not.

He was a gentle man,

never put himself forward.

Shy.

He was like Michael in that way.

We met at evening class.

Reg never held him against me.

I owe Reg a lot.

But I just keep thinking, wondering.

And it's not that I want Michael back.

I know I can't have him back,

but I just...

have to know he's all right,

you see.

[Carrousel music playing]

[Children laughing]

Girl: It's starting. It's starting.

[Applause]

Ehh...what time is it, children?

Children: It's nutty time!

Oh, no, it isn't.

Children: Oh, yes, it is!

Oh, no, it isn't.

Oh, yes, it is.

Wainthropp: I'm only going away for a couple of days,

then come straight back.

You can be back tonight.

It's no time on bus.

2 1/2 hours each way,

and I don't know what I'll find when I get there.

There'll be contacts to interview,

I can be sure of that.

The Wainthropp Detective Agency

doesn't skimp, Robert.

We've our reputation to think of.

What about me and Jeff?

There's food in the freezer.

And Geoffrey can cook.

Only out of pot.

There's nourishment in a pot.

If you were on a desert island,

you'd be glad of it.

I should come with you.

You'll be at the public library.

I wasn't going to show me ignorance

in front of that dentist's wife,

but we know less than nothing about this schizophrenia.

Find out all there is to know and write it down.

I'll have to go, or I'll miss me bus.

[Door closes]

I always thought of meself as the field operative.

[Air blowing]

[Scraping]

He's gone. Gone where?

I don't know where.

And when? I don't know when.

You don't seem to know much.

Not as much as I'd like, no.

But you're his... whatchacallit.

Community psychiatric nurse for this area.

Well, at least 18 years old.

28. I'm fully qualified,

but thank you for your concern.

His mother told me he needs an injection

every fortnight.

Right.

So if he's just taken off...

Then he's not having it.

Won't he get ill?

He will get ill.

Probably.

[Dialing]

I'm sorry. We better start again.

We've got off on the wrong foot.

[Sea gulls crying]

What am I gonna tell his mother?

She knows.

Oh, no, she doesn't, or why would I be here?

I informed the family as soon as I knew myself.

She never said.

Why would she ask me to come if she already knew?

The stepfather answered the phone.

I asked him to let us know if Michael turned up.

He couldn't have told her.

That doesn't surprise me.

You mustn't blame him, Mrs. Wainthropp.

She will.

Probably.

But it isn't easy for families.

Worry, yes. They expect to worry.

It's the little things.

Personal neglect, dirt,

beds that are made, and bits of food

left on the carpet.

It wasn't a good atmosphere.

Stepfather disapproving, mother overprotective.

If only he could have managed independence.

But did he really try?

His mother said he kept coming back home,

they had to push him out.

Mind you, we had to push our Derek out in the end

if he was ever to come to anything.

Then he went to Australia.

Well, how can our people manage to be independent

when there is nowhere for them to live

that won't make them ill again?

Bedsit? One-room flat in a rundown tower block?

And no chance of any work.

Day after day of nothing to do

but wander around listening to your own thoughts.

They can come in here, can't they?

Yeah. That's why it's called the Drop-In Center.

A cheap meal, meet people,

talk, get your medication,

art therapy, occupational therapy,

group therapy.

Oh, we're great on therapies,

providing they're cheap.

Did Michael come here regularly

for therapies and such?

He had off-and-on periods,

times he'd come in, times he'd keep away.

You're surprised I can't tell you when he went.

I am.

He was having one of his off periods.

That's OK. He's a free man.

He doesn't have to come in.

He missed an injection.

I wrote to him. He didn't reply.

I went to see him. He wasn't in.

I asked around. Nobody knew.

I informed the family.

And that's all?

Once he's gone out of this area,

there's nothing I can do.

You could have told the police.

He hasn't committed a crime.

But you said yourself,

without his injection he'd be ill.

He can't be forced to take it.

He does have the right to refuse.

I'd like to see this room you found him.

We'll have to go to the town hall

for a spare key.

Won't the caretaker have a key?

Caretakers were privatized long ago.

You never see one these days.

Don't mistake me, Mrs. Wainthropp.

I do want you to find Michael.

I'm afraid he may have reached what we call

the "rational suicide" stage.

The what?

He knows he's going to be on medication

for the rest of his life,

and he can see the empty days stretching ahead of him.

Always the possibility of a relapse,

never much chance of any work.

Any work he does get will be well below his capacities.

He doesn't like what he sees,

and he may make a rational decision

that he doesn't want it.

I see.

Are you sure you'll be OK, Mrs. Wainthropp?

I would come with you,

but I really am needed back at the center.

I'll be all right. I always have faith.

Man: Nobody there, lassie.

He never used to... best of times.

Who are you?

I'm Todd from next door.

I used to clean up a bit meself at one time,

but Michael never did.

Never thought of it.

And since he went away,

I've not been able to get in.

You from ..., are you?

Wainthropp Detective Agency.

I'm acting for the family.

You are?

His mother's paying me to find out

how Michael's getting on.

He's not getting on, though, is he?

He's not here.

We used to play chess.

He taught me, but...

ooh, he were a funny sort of chap.

Still, I miss the company.

You don't play chess yourself, I suppose?

No. Did he say where he was going?

No. Not a word.

[No audio]

Police, please.

What about the skeleton?

Was that part of his illness?

I don't think so, no.

Took a lot of trouble doing it.

He were quite proud of it, I think.

It's not meant to be frightening.

And he went off Monday last week.

Aye, that's right.

I knocked at door, special knock,

same as always.

Then he'd answer, but this time he didn't.

He could have been dead.

What's the odds if he had have been?

He'd have been found eventually.

They always are.

But you were his friend, maybe his only friend.

Now, I wouldn't say that, no.

You're making assumptions there.

You're presuming.

He'd got no friends.

Neither have I.

You came in every day.

You tidied up.

Well, we were neighbors.

I like to keep tidy.

But he didn't talk much.

We'd play a chess.

Sometimes I'd get him a bite to eat,

but we both had the same problem, you see,

getting through the day.

What do you think you're doing hanging around?

Sunny suns.

Allatin road.

Don't track in sand on the carpet.

We've a neighborhood watch here, you know?

Sometimes they ask you questions.

Different stories.

There's always a skeleton.

Do you need help,

something to eat, like?

A bed?

I can take you to the Sally Ann.

Ann. My...

[Mumbles incoherently]

One.

Why didn't you take him in?

Not committing an offense.

He's a loony,

standing there staring for hours.

Who knows what's in his mind.

If he's not in immediate need of care and control,

I can't do nothing.

Well, if he gets in the papers,

it's your responsibility.

[Footsteps]

[Door closes]

Wainthropp: You were right!

I didn't need an overnight bag.

The bag had the jib on, eh?

"Rational suicide," he said.

These people.

They have a language all their own.

Ah, they would have.

All this talk about community care.

There's no money provided.

That flat was a pigsty.

They need looking after.

They do.

That poor woman.

What am I gonna tell her?

[Sniffing]

And you say there was a skeleton?

Yes.

There was nothing like it in his room at home.

It wasn't all part of his--

Oh, no, no.

That was all muddled up, of course,

but different things.

Had it all worked out.

I had quite a long talk with the nurse

at the Drop-In Center.

Ian.

Yes.

He told me he'd phoned to let you know

that Michael had disappeared.

No.

He said your husband took the call.

Excuse me.

I want a word.

Excuse me.

You knew he'd gone.

Yes.

And you never told me?

I didn't want to upset you.

Well, now you have.

Well, did you tell me when you hired a detective?

Out of my own savings.

I'm sorry about this interruption.

Please, bear with me.

It won't take a moment.

It'll hardly hurt at all.

Please continue your investigation,

Mrs. Wainthropp.

I'll find a way to pay you,

if I have to steal the gold fillings

out of the patient's teeth.

Mr. Wainthropp.

Case conference.

It's the first decent day we've had for a week.

If I don't get this done now, I'll be all behind.

Well, you know what she's like.

This stuff doesn't come out of the horse free,

you know.

I'll spell it out.

If his injections were still working,

the only place he would go would be his mum's house.

So he could be searching for her.

Where?

Anywhere. Everywhere.

He doesn't know where she's moved to.

Now we know he left his flat a fortnight ago,

but he missed the injection before that.

So the symptoms could have come back.

This is heavy stuff, and I'm not used to it.

I don't understand most of the words.

Well, what symptoms?

"Seeing things, hearing voices,

delusions--"

Like thinking you're Hercule Poirot?

Try to be more helpful, Robert.

What I'm trying to say,

if he was still in control and trying to find his mum,

we don't know where he tried.

And if the symptoms have come back

and he was hearing voices,

he might go where the voices told him to go.

We still don't know where that would be.

Either way, we can't win.

I'm sure that skeleton's in it somewhere.

Have a feeling in me bones about that skeleton.

[Video games beeping]

[Music playing]

Game announcer: That's it.

You pong, you know that.

Pong.

Wrong.

Right.

Song.

No way. Now piss off.

[Game starts again]

Geoffrey: Isolated. Sullen or moody.

Sometimes hostile.

No job, nowhere to go, no friends.

Poor concentration. Wanders off the pipe.

Conversation becomes difficult,

letters are easier.

Reliant on routine. Upset by change.

Say that again?

Upset by change.

No, "conversation becomes difficult" and then...

Letters are easier.

So who did he write to?

And who wrote back?

GEOFFREY: Oh, that's right spooky.

Sutton, Surrey.

Stoke-on-Trent.

Another from Sutton, Surrey.

Stoke.

Stoke-on-Trent.

That's it.

We've got a few more trips to make, Geoffrey.

I've got 10 pen pals altogether.

French, German... Darlene's American.

She's a born-again Christian at the moment.

It's her third time.

Makes her letters very monotonous.

I don't think people should be born again

more than once.

And Yuri's Russian. He doesn't write often

because he can't afford the stamps.

And Michael?

Oh, Michael's in a special subgroup,

mentally challenged. I've two of them.

He's been rather naughty about replying lately.

I hate writing letters.

Well, that's the advantage

of a word processor.

Provided you stick to general subjects,

you can send the same letter,

just slightly altered, to each one.

[Knock on door]

WOMAN: Geraldine.

Come in, Mother.

[Door opens]

Oh, thank you.

Isn't she wonderful?

A network of positive thoughts

across the world.

We're all so proud of her.

Yeah, you must be.

I know it's confidential, like,

but anything Michael's written recently

about his state of mind,

if he was thinking of going anywhere,

wondering where his mum might be.

Any suicidal thoughts, even.

I think there might be

something wrong with your coffee.

Unless it's cocoa.

Oatsarola. Essence of oats

fortified with every known vitamin.

Just let it cool. The cactus likes it.

Now, Michael.

Any clues to his intentions.

We represent the family. We have to find him.

Sorry, there's nothing...

I told you,

I keep my correspondence general.

It's the only way.

If you let pen friends get too personal,

you'd be sucked in.

I've known Michael a long time.

I worked in the public library

near his home.

He was what I call a reading boy.

3 books a day sometimes,

anything as long as it had a story.

We have great chats.

Man, faintly: Aileen.

I can't come now, Father.

I'm with someone.

Then 3 years ago, when Mother fell ill--

well, they were both ill, both parents,

but Mother didn't last-- I was the unmarried daughter,

so I gave up the library and came back south.

But you kept in touch with Michael.

He's already had his first breakdown.

It seemed important to him--

Man: Aileen!

to keep up some kind of contact,

a touch of his past life.

Doesn't take much to write a letter.

Man: Aileen!

I said I'm busy, Father.

He doesn't understand.

I can't keep going up every time he calls,

I'll be up and down all day.

Has there been anything unusual

in Michael's letters recently?

Just...the poems.

What poems?

Scraps, really,

but interesting.

They do art therapy at that Drop-In Center.

Would they do poetry as well?

Bound to.

"Lions, when sick, look for a place to die.

Birds crouch in corners."

Breaks off there,

but there's quite a cadence,

don't you think?

Bit morbid.

Here's another one.

"Old Bones is a merry fellow,

"Comes into every story.

"Sinbad, Aladdin, or Cinderella,

Old Bones takes all the glory."

Old Bones?

Death, I suppose.

The skeleton with the scythe.

Man: Aileen!

He certainly comes into every story.

There was a skeleton

painted on the wall of Michael's flat.

Man: Aileen!

I'll have to go up this time.

Would you mind if I copied these?

No, not at all. I won't be a moment.

"Old Bones is a merry fellow,

"Comes into every story.

"Sinbad, Aladdin, and Cinderella,

Old Bones takes all the glory."

Michael wrote that?

Is it anything to do with the skeleton?

Do you remember,

I asked you about the skeleton,

you said you had no idea.

Does this give you any idea where he might have gone?

No. No, none.

"Comes into every story."

Does that mean anything?

No, no, it doesn't mean anything.

Go in?

Shut me up.

Can I help you?

Man: Worthless, useless!

Leave me alone!

I'm sorry, I've been wasting your time.

No, you haven't.

It was silly of me to think you could find him.

I can find him, I hope,

with your cooperation.

Anyway, I can't afford to pay for a long inquiry.

I'm sure you understand that.

It's got something to do

with that poem, hasn't it?

Thank you so much for all your trouble.

[Phone rings]

Geoffrey!

Get over here with the scooter as soon as you can.

I'm not giving up the case. That woman knows something.

Hmm? The phone box across the road.

[Knocking on door]

Wainthropp: Follow that cab!

Wainthropp: She knows where he's gone.

But she has no experience,

she'll make a mess of it.

Here, there must be somebody

in that ticket office you were at school with.

Oh, right.

Freedom.

Staverton Sands.

There's a train in 10 minutes.

No, it's too soon.

And anyway, she'd see us.

We'll let her have the evening

to sort herself out,

and we'll go there tomorrow.

Mrs. Wainthropp, I have to say,

well, we can't afford to work for nothing.

No, you're right.

But there's more than one way

to skin a rabbit.

Excuse me, Mr. Townsend,

Townsend: Yes?

There's a lady wants an urgent word with you.

Um, just have a rinse, Mrs. Cooper.

Hetty Wainthropp. I think you should know

your wife has gone to Staverton Sands.

[Sighs]

How much do you need?

7 days' daily rate and reasonable expenses.

Very well.

I require strict confidentiality.

You understand? Nothing to come out.

Man: You get nothing for nothing in this world.

No!

[Indistinct mumbling]

Man: Hey!

What's your game?

[Microwave beeps]

[Man's voice, overlapping sentences]

Man: Go inside, go inside, go inside...

[Breaking glass]

Robert: I should be out there digging.

Oh, don't go on so, Robert.

There's nothing in the allotment

at this time of year but Brussels sprouts,

and you hate sprouts.

You don't grow sprouts to eat them.

You grow them

because all the other allotments grow them.

So let them live out their sprouty lives

while you stay by the phone.

Come on, Geoffrey.

She never did understand about gardening.

Wainthropp: Your husband gave me this address.

He said you used to come here with Michael

every summer, just the two of you.

He never came, he never had time.

You stayed two weeks

and always in this boarding house,

am I right?

Woman: It's a private hotel now.

Will you be taking luncheon?

What about this skeleton

that came into every story?

Well, it did. It was the marionettes.

Michael loved them. We went every day.

They did all the traditional stories,

pantomime stories.

Sinbad, Aladdin, and Cinderella.

And the skeleton came into them all.

Oh, he couldn't be kept out.

He was so cheeky and disrespectful.

He was Michael's favorite.

[Man's voice, overlapping sentences]

[Voice stops]

[Voice resumes]

You're bound to find him, he's been seen.

Seen?

Everywhere. There have been complaints.

The pier, the esplanade, the floral clock.

What you might call

the scenic features of the town,

he'd be there, loitering.

Did he come here?

Yes, for hours in the rain,

peering in the windows, upsetting the guests.

He'd been happy here.

Well, if I'd known who he was,

I'd have asked him in.

But you can't know, can you?

We can't be sure it's him.

We've no positive identification.

No, but it's the best lead we've had so far.

We'll start with the sea front.

There's 3 of us now,

we can go 3 different ways.

Geoffrey, you try the pier.

OK.

I'll go this way,

and we'll all meet back here later.

Right.

Ooh. So much of this job is legwork.

I shall have to keep in trim.

Most of the time,

it's not the illness that makes them act strange,

it's the drugs they take to control it.

I don't know why he couldn't have gone

to Blackpool.

There would be more to do in the evening.

Dubonnet is a great comforter

at a time like this.

We'll tackle the police and search tomorrow.

We've got no jurisdiction.

If he's not in immediate need of care and control--

He was. He was eating from litter bins.

It's not a crime.

He needed care. You won't deny that.

Not our care, Mrs. Wainthropp.

We try to make it homey here.

Long stay or fly-by-night.

All are welcome if they'll only ask.

You said you saw him hovering outside.

Yes.

He might have wanted to come in.

Well, we don't drag people in

off the streets.

We've no resources and no authority.

People come to us if they need help.

They come when they're ready.

He walked away.

Well, why didn't you go after him?

Thank you.

It's out of season, lad. No occupants to speak of.

Just a few regulars on Social Security, that's all.

Well, that's what I mean.

You'd have caravans empty.

Locked.

Well, they could be broken into.

Look, I'd notice it, wouldn't I?

Well, he could be hiding, you see.

Lying low, like.

Look, I go around every day trying the doors.

When?

When I feel like it.

God.

If you felt like it now,

maybe I could go with you.

[Faintly] Not that one.

Sorry?

I did try to warn you.

I did try to warn you.

Try to sleep.

I will.

Good night, Hetty. Thank you.

Good night, Hilda.

We'll have some new ideas by morning.

[Door closes]

She'll sleep, I hope.

We need to talk.

Now we know why he came here.

He was trying to find something he'd lost.

You can't know that, Mrs. Wainthropp.

I do know it.

You're not allowing for his disordered thoughts.

I'm the one who had to read the books.

If his symptoms have come back,

then there's no logic.

It's nothing to do with logic.

Look, if he decided he couldn't find

what he was looking for,

because it wasn't here anymore, he might have just given up.

Gone back to where he came from.

They'd have told his stepfather,

and he'd have told us.

Forget logic, Geoffrey.

It's feelings in this case.

That's your department, Mrs. Wainthropp.

Yes, it is.

Those bits of poems.

Do you remember what they said?

I brought them with me.

Old Bones, was it?

Yes, but the other one.

"Lions, when sick,

look for a place to die.

Birds crouch in corners."

He's in a bad state. He may not last.

"Lions, when sick,

look for a place to die."

Feelings.

He came back, and he was rejected.

So he's given up.

Look for a place

to curl up and die.

We've been asking in public places.

He's found somewhere private,

somewhere where nobody would come across him.

Somewhere--

Somewhere he felt he was safe.

Go on.

Somewhere he was happy before.

Come on.

[Knock on door]

The marionettes, where were they?

Where exactly did they hold the marionette show?

[Wind blowing]

Wainthropp: Where's the door?

It's here.

Glass has been smashed.

It's locked.

Geoffrey, put your hand through.

Try and unlock it. Mind yourself.

All right, it's open.

No! No!

Let Geoffrey go in first.

[Clicking]

[Broken glass crunching]

He's in there.

Michael!

I think he's dead.

Fetch the police.

[Hilda sobbing]

Oh, Michael.

Somebody beat him up.

It's murder,

and you know it.

The beating didn't kill him, Mrs. Wainthropp.

He died of cold and a lack of nourishment.

If he hadn't been beaten up,

would he have gone down there to die?

There's some evidence,

signs of a struggle down by the jetty.

We've had problems down there before,

some boat owners...

There's been vandalism. You can't blame them.

Somebody has got a club or an iron bar.

Something with Michael's blood on it.

Now you find that somebody,

or you can take it from me,

there will be one big very public fuss!

Schizophrenia.

Anything like that I couldn't manage,

Robert, I couldn't manage at all.

If it were me.

You're too old. Couldn't happen.

If it were Geoffrey.

He's not our son.

Who else would look after him?

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