All language subtitles for The Unpleasantness At The Bellona Club E4

Where is she?

She's gone off with a friend,
a cottage in Steeple Aston.

We've got a local man
keeping an eye on her down there.

First Steps In Chemistry.

Yes, she used to keep
her chemicals and things in here.

But we've taken most of them away for analysis.

How thorough the police are.
I can't imagine you'll find anything incriminating.

No, it's her books and pictures
that I want to look at.

Books, Charles, are like lobster shells.

We carry them around with us,
then we grow out of them,

and leave them behind as evidence
of our earlier stages of development.

Quain's Dictionary Of Medicine.

Open it up.

- "Actions Of Certain Poisons".
- Yes. It's rather suggestive, isn't it?

It may have told her how to use digitalis, Charles.
It don't tell her how to get hold of it.

- A view of this end of the studio, please, Bunter.
- Yes, my lord.

- Doesn't it?
- Doesn't what?

- Foxgloves.
- What about foxgloves?

Digitalis purpurea - the purple foxglove.

The drug digitalis can be extracted from
the dried leaves of foxgloves,

- using fairly elementary chemical equipment.
- You've been reading up on it.

- Well...
- Your reading don't suggest

where she would get hold of digitalis
or foxglove leaves in November.

I said dried leaves, Peter.

And why should Ann Dorland go around
drying foxglove leaves

a good two months before she knew
she might need to use them?

No, Charles, whoever poisoned the old man
got the idea and did it all on the one day.

Have you looked at the gramophone records,
Bunter?

The Savoy Orpheans, my lord:
I wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate.

- Force yourself, Bunter.
- Notice that the machine itself is new.

Yes, indeed, and detective stories are
the most recent acquisition to her bookshelves.

This one, for instance,
is all about a bloke who murders a johnny

and then keeps him in cold storage
until he's ready to dispose of him.

It would suit Robert Fentiman.
Let's have a look at her paintings.

Oh, Lord!

Yes, it gives me a pain too, but I thought
that was my lack of artistic education.

It was your natural good taste, Charles.

(Flash gun pops)
- Let's have a look at some others.

Mm-hm.

You know, these are the paintings
of a completely untalented person,

who is, moreover, trying to copy the mannerisms
of a very advanced school.

And you'll notice she's left everything
higgledy-piggledy - paint all over the place,

brushes ruining themselves in turps.

Hello, what's this?

- It's a portrait, I presume.
- Yes, but of whom, do you suppose?

What do you make of it, Charles?

Well... (Clears throat)

- It's a man.
- Ten out of ten.

Come to think of it,
it's the only portrait of a man in the studio.

- Really?
- All the others are women.

How very interesting.

It's very bad.

And it's been worked on a lot.

So we may assume that
it is meant to be somebody.

Do you know the limerick about
the old man of Khartoum?

No, what did he do?

He kept two black sheep in a room.

"They remind me," he said,
"Of two friends who are dead,"

- "But I cannot remember of whom."
(Flash gun pops)

If that reminds you of anyone you know,
I don't care for your friends very much.

He ain't beautiful but I think the sinister squint
is chiefly due to bad drawing.

Cover up one eye, Charles.

No, not yours. The portrait's.

- No.
- Does Your Lordship wish me to...?

Yes, I think we should have a record of this one,
Bunter.

I may want to brood about it during the night.

Don't this room tell you anything, Charles?
Anything about its owner?

Well, it suggests to me that Ann Dorland
has been taking more interest

in crimes and chemistry than is altogether
healthy in the circumstances.

What do you think?

I came here hoping that it would tell me
the same thing that it told you, but it hasn't.

It's told me what I knew all along.

I haven't got that one.

I hope you're not going to tell me she didn't do it.

(Flash gun pops)

You'll be late for work, George.

- I suppose it doesn't matter.
- Of course it matters.

It'll be all right. I feel better today.

Hello. There are two men coming up the path.

Look at their boots.
Do you think they're policemen?

(Doorbell rings)

George?

Well, why don't you arrest her
if you're so sure she killed him?

We can't arrest her, Peter.

All we can do is watch her.

You see, we haven't got a case...yet.

I say, I hope that nurse
isn't going to keep us waiting.

(Flash gun pops)

(Doorbell rings)

(Toilet flushes)

- Mrs Fentiman?
- Yes.

I have to tell you that we're policeman,
Mrs Fentiman.

We're wondering if we could have a word
with your husband.

I'm sorry. You're too late.

He's gone to work.

Never, Nurse Armstrong?

Miss Dorland was never alone with
the old gentleman at any time during that day.

She left shortly after he came in to see his sister,
wishing to leave the old people together.

When she returned with the brandy,
I was present -

the old gentleman being poorly
and needing my help.

- With the brandy?
- I beg your pardon?

- Miss Ann Dorland brought the brandy?
- You're not suggesting she put something in it?

I just want you to confirm...

Lord, how ignorant people can be.

No wonder the poor girl's had to go away
if that's what people are saying.

- You liked her?
- A well-spoken, intelligent girl,

with more feelings than she cared to show.

Not strictly speaking pretty,
but a face of character.

You could go further and fare worse.

(Clears throat) "Ignorant", I believe you said.

Yes, Constable, I did. If you think Miss Dorland
put digitalis into the General's brandy,

you can dismiss it from your mind entirely.

And how can you be so sure?

If he'd had as big a dose as that in solution
at 4.30 in the afternoon,

he'd have been taken ill
ever so much earlier than he was.

A pill, you see, takes longer.
In solution, the action is very quick.

I see.

Are these her paintings?

She said she did painting.

They're very modern, aren't they?

Sergeant...

Bottle cap. Pill bottle, by the look of it.

Yes. Where's the rest of it?

I dunno.

Better go through the dustbin.

It could be in there but we don't know
when it was dropped. It might be just lying about.

Hawkins...dustbin.

They can't do that to our bin,
not without a warrant!

They can't search people's dustbins
without a search warrant.

- Who's to stop them?
- You are, Joe Munns, you are.

You're a free citizen and you've not done
nothing. Go out and assert your rights.

- Me?
- "Where's your search warrant."

That's all you've got to say to them.
"Show me your search warrant," you say.

No, wait a minute. Come back here.

Let them have the goodness of it, first.

They'll clear it all up after.

(Phone rings)

Tell them I ain't at home, Bunter.

It's Mrs George Fentiman, my lord.
She appears to be in great distress.

But they ain't on the telephone.

I was to beg you to communicate with her
as soon as you arrived.

Well, she must be in a box.

She began by asking if Mr George Fentiman
was here, my lord.

Oh, Hades.

Hello, Sheila? No, he ain't here.

What? He hasn't been home all day?

Well, I knew they were making enquiries
but they're bound to do that. It's only routine.

I'm sorry, did you say "dustbin"?

I'm sorry, old thing,
but I'm not very bright at one in the morning.

Did he?

I shouldn't worry too much, Sheila.
He's probably just popped off for a bit.

Look, you go on home, get warm,
and I'll come round straightaway.

A taxi, Bunter.

No, wait a moment.
Get Major Robert Fentiman on the telephone.

Ask him to meet me at his brother's lodgings
as soon as he can.

- Thank you.
- Don't make a noise. They complain, you know.

Let 'em. If we whisper,
they'll think you're no better than you should be,

entertaining strange men
at this time of the night.

Now, then, my child, what is all this?

Good heavens!
You are as cold as a pêche melba.

- Look, the fire's half out. Where's the whisky?
- I'm all right, really.

You're not all right and neither am I.

You haven't had any grub.
No wonder you're feeling awful.

- Where's the kitchen? Along the hall?
- Peter, please. I don't need anything.

Urgh! Revolting.

Your landlady cooks for you, I take it,
since you're both out all day?

Matches? We can start by warming this up.

Now, let's have a look.

There's the tap. Er...

I say, you are in a stew.

(Laughs) Oh, I'm sorry! No pun intended.

There we are.

Now, then... A little something to give it body.

Let's have a look. Erm...

What can we find?

Yes, well, not marmalade.

Corned beef, I think, if we have any.
Hello, what's this?

(Sniffs) Extract of yeast, possibly.
This might do the trick.

WOMAN: What's going on in here?

- Would you say that again?
- I said, what's going on in here?

It's Mr Munns, the landlord.

It's only Lord Peter Wimsey, Mrs Munns.
He's a family friend.

Family friend? At two in the morning?

I'll family friend you!

Sneaking up in a taxi while
you're behind the door, hoping we won't hear.

This is a respectable house
and I won't have goings on.

And if you...

What do you think you're doing with that stew?

Warming it up and attempting to make it edible.

In the second object, I may fail.
Have you got any whisky in the house?

Whisky? Did you hear that, Joe?

Yes, I did. Whisky, the gentleman said.
I heard it very clear.

Pop a little bit of this in, there's a good girl.
And give it a stir.

We wouldn't want it to burn,
on top of everything else.

If we had some whisky, we might be able
to chat this over in a rather more friendly way.

- I'm sure that would reassure your wife.
- I'm not having no chats.

You explain yourself, then I turn
your fancy woman here out, that's my intention.

The problem being, sir,
there's no drink kept in the house.

- Not in the way of spirits.
- You call yourself a man?

- Then I will tell you what to do.
- Assert yourself!

- Oh, shut up, you old bag.
- (Whimpers)

Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear!
There, there, there, there.

There is a public telephone nearby, I take it.

- Yes. Yes, there is.
- Just round the corner.

Now, you hop along and telephone that number.

My man will answer.

He may be cross at being called out of bed
at this time of night, but don't worry.

Tell him to come with a bottle of whisky.

That way, we can be certain of getting
a good malt.

Tell him to come in the Lagonda -
then I can be sure of getting back.

I don't suppose taxis are all that frequent
in Finsbury Park at this hour.

- Yes, milord. Right, milord.
- And hold on a tick.

You will require some money for the telephone.

Oh...thank you, milord.

Now, let's see how that stew's coming along.

Oh. Well, that's very good, Mrs Munns.
Very good indeed.

Absolutely top hole.

# And the dawn comes up like thunder

# Out of China, 'cross the bay

Very interesting. Very, very interesting.

(Telephone rings)

Lord Peter Wimsey's residence.

I beg your pardon? Did you say whisky?

- Bottoms up, Your Lordship.
- Oh, chin, chin.

You'd better have a whisky too, Bunter.

Just as well you brought two bottles.

Now, Mrs Munns,
what did the police find in the dustbin?

I'd like to see them finding things in my dustbin!

You won't find anything in the wife's dustbin.
You can look, but you won't find.

"Where's your search warrant?" I said.

No, no, I said that.

"If you've come without a search warrant,
you can go straight back from where you came.

- That is the law." They couldn't deny it.
- Quite right.

They either comes to me in a fitting legal manner
with a search warrant

or they can go and whistle for their bottle.

What bottle?

The bottle they was looking for in my dustbin.

Your hubby, my dear, smashed it up with a poker
before he scarpered.

What sort of a bottle was it, Mrs Munns?

Oh, one of them little tablet bottles, you know.

Same as what you have
standing on your washstand, Mrs Fentiman.

And they took it away with them, I suppose,
did they?

Did they? Weren't never there, you see.
Never in the dustbin. I swept it up.

And where is it now? Or rather, the, you know...
the bits of the bottle.

- In an envelope.
- And where is the envelope?

That's for me to know and for you to find out.

Oh, no, that's not for me.

- It's for the police to find out.
- Well, quite right.

Quite right, my lord. Because if they was
to return with a search warrant,

- where'd I be if I hadn't kept that bottle safe?
- Where indeed? You'd have to produce it.

Of course.
The idea had come to me, my lord, that...

- That I might want it?
- Well, being a free-spending sort of gentleman.

I should have to hand it over to the police myself.

I don't think you ought to get any wrong ideas,
Mrs Munns.

Captain Fentiman smashed up that bottle
but purely on impulse and that's all there is to it.

He's liable to do odd things, you know.

I was with him during the war.
He was very badly shell-shocked.

Ah, poor gentleman. I've got a feeling heart,
my dear. I know your pain.

So if he breaks things up occasionally
or loses his memory or goes running off,

well, naturally, Mrs Fentiman is anxious.

Don't you worry, milord. We know.

There was a fellow just round the corner.
I knew him well.

We was as close as spitting.

Smashed up his whole family with a beetle.

- With a what?
- A beetle.

He was a pavier by profession.

- That's why he had a beetle in the house.
- Oh, I see.

Pounded them to a jelly -
his wife, his five little angels.

And then went off and drowned himself
in the Regent's Canal.

What's more, when they fished him out,

he didn't remember a word about it.

- Shut up, you fool!
- Hang on, old thing.

Haven't you got no feelings?
Where's your feeling heart?

You are fagged out. Have you got
a hot-water bottle or anything of the sort?

I really think Mrs Fentiman ought to lie down
and try and sleep.

Good idea, my lord.
You can borrow mine, my dear.

- Mrs Munns, I...
- Borrow mine.

Erm...

Mr Munns and I will retire to the kitchen,
my lord.

- May I suggest...?
- Why not?

And take the whisky with you, Bunter.

Oh, that's very good of you, my lord.

- Come along.
- Oh...

Very kind, I'm sure.

- Look, Sheila...
- You must get hold of that bottle.

Make her give it to you. You can do anything.

- Sheila, what was that bottle?
- It's mine.

My heart medicine. I missed it.

It's...

It's something to do with digitalis.

(Doorbell rings)

That'll be Robert. I asked him to come.

Get it. Please.

You must get hold of that bottle.

(Doorbell rings)

No offence, you know.

None taken.

Hm.

If that's so, we'll buy the woman off, otherwise
she'll be on our backs for the rest of our lives.

- How much would you think? 1,000?
- I hope I don't follow you.

Blackmail. Don't want that. If she don't hand over
the envelope, she don't get the money.

I'm sorry, but the police have got to know.

- My God, you...
- I am not going to hush anything up.

- I ain't here for that.
- Then what?

Sheila telephoned. I came to help.

Then help, damn it! You came to help, so help!

You're George's friend. This woman's got
evidence against him in an envelope.

We buy it - I haven't asked you to pay.

- No, you haven't.
- Keep your mouth shut, that's all.

You have got to see that it will not help
to suppress anything. The police...

The police? Don't talk to me about the police,
you damn police spy!

You'd sell your best friend to make
a sensational experience at the witness box.

- Chuck that...
- I will not.

- I have tried to keep out of this.
- You've tried?

Don't be such a hypocrite.
Just get out of it now and stay out.

I can't do that, because I'm already in.

Because I know the truth.

Well, not the whole truth, but the fact that George
had digitalis and the opportunity to administer it

and that must not be hushed up.

Look, I'm sorry. I know how you feel.
But it will not help George...

Don't stand there being righteous
and forbearing, you sickening prig.

- Are you going to hold your tongue, yes or no?
- No.

- You dirty little...
- Look here, Fentiman.

You're afraid that your brother murdered
your grandfather - that is how you're behaving.

I don't know whether he did or didn't
but the worst thing you can do

is try and suppress evidence
and make his wife a party to it.

So just you think about that.

- No, just you listen to me, Wimsey.
- Don't bother to apologise, there's a good fellow.

I'll let myself out. Night-night.

Bunter!

I wasn't going to apologise.

I thought Your Lordship might wish to see it
before retiring.

Well, at this hour of the morning, Bunter,
His Lordship ain't capable of...

Oh, I see.

Yes. Do you know who it is?

I think so, my lord.

How very smart of you, Bunter.

- How very observant.
- Thank you, my lord.

Yes, I do see.

I see a great deal that wasn't clear before.

I see how it was done, Bunter.

(Birds squawk)

(Shakily) Cold.

God, I'm so cold.

I'm not surprised. Here, better have a sausage.

WIMSEY: Morning, Charles.
- Morning, Peter.

- Any news?
- Well, he can't get far.

It's too cold for sleeping out.

- You are eating my breakfast.
- Well, I was hungry.

You see, I usually have a little something
about this time in the morning.

Yes, if I'm at the Yard, I usually eat about 11.
You should get up early.

Anyway, you needn't bother about George.

I told you, I'm not bothered. We'll find him.

George did not kill the old man.

(Buzzer)
- At least, I don't think he did.

Means, motive, opportunity
and doing away with important evidence.

Don't worry, we'll get him.

Bunter, Inspector Parker has finished
all the toast.

He has also eaten my bacon and egg.

Might I please have some more toast
and some more bacon and eggs?

- Pleasure, my lord.
- And some more coffee, please, Bunter.

Why don't you think George Fentiman did it?

Well, you remember that portrait we found
in Ann Dorland's studio

- that reminded me of somebody?
- Yes. You've remembered who?

Dr Penberthy.

Reminded you of, or was of?

Was of.

I see.

Suggests a connection.

- There is a connection.
- Yes, I suppose there is.

Up to now, Ann Dorland has had
the most obvious motive

but no means and, so the nurse tells us,
no opportunity.

- Whereas Dr Penberthy had both.
- Who better?

Look, he ain't a rich man.

He's a retired army surgeon,

shares a house in Harley Street
with two other hard-up brass-platers.

Suddenly, he gets an idea, that if only he can
start one of those clinics for rejuvenating people,

he could be a millionaire.

Then along comes a girl -

rich old woman's heiress. He goes after her.

He is to accommodate her
by removing the obstacle to the fortune,

and she will obligingly respond
by putting money into his clinic.

Good Lord.

Bunter spotted the likeness in the portraits
before I did. Once we had that connection...

- Well done, Bunter.
- Thank you, Inspector.

The trouble is, old lad,
there is something wrong with it.

Just a little something.

- But it all fits.
- It don't fit with the girl, Charles.

- But you never met the girl.
- But her studio tells me something.

- Bunter made enquiries amongst the servants.
- They like her, sir, in spite of herself.

Well, likable people have committed murder
before now.

Yes, but they like her in spite of herself.
Do you see?

- No, I don't see.
- Explain, Bunter.

She's not likable, sir, but they like her.

I may go mad. Look, Peter, it all fits.

And much of it can be checked.
And I'm sure that, when we check it, it will still fit.

Yes, I'm sure it will.

George Fentiman's irrelevant now. Smashing up
the bottle and running off doesn't matter.

It's still our duty to find him, of course,
but it's not important.

- No, George is safe.
- It's just a routine job now.

- I want to meet the girl, Charles.
- Well, who's stopping you?

You said she was away with a friend.
Cottage in Steeple Aston.

She's back. With the same friend,
living on a houseboat in Chelsea.

Not Marjorie Phelps?

That's right.

You might have told me she was staying with
a friend of mine. I know the houseboat well.

(Boat horn)

I'm afraid Marjorie's not in.

No, I know. I waited for her to go out.

You're Ann Dorland. I'm Peter Wimsey.

I know a lot about you but I don't know you.
And I would rather like to.

Why? I'm a murderess, not at all respectable.

- I wasn't sure about that.
- Everyone seems to think so, so it must be true.

- Everyone?
- The people I know.

The servants think so. Something the police
suggested about poison in the brandy.

And the newspapers are hinting, aren't they?

My solicitor told me I should go away, I shouldn't
talk to the reporters. So we did, to the country.

But the police put a man on to follow us. That's
noticeable in a village, so we came back here.

It's rather noticeable here, too...

to the trained eye.

Most eyes aren't trained in London.

Thank you.

She's very good, isn't she?

I was a terrible painter.

- You didn't put digitalis in the brandy, of course.
- No.

You know that?

We spoke to Nurse Armstrong.
It was clearly impossible.

Then why am I still being followed?

When I first asked Marjorie about you...

she said she thought that you were...

..getting over a rather unhappy love affair.

I am sorry, I didn't want to talk about that.

It's true you're not a very good painter.

You won't mind my saying so
since you said so yourself.

It's a very bad likeness.

It took me a long time to spot who it was.

Look, I'm going to give you a bit of a shock
but it'll have to come sooner or later.

Had it ever occurred to you that it might be he
who murdered General Fentiman?

- How could he?
- Oh, very easily.

Much more easily than anyone else.

The police think they can prove it.

You really didn't know?

It wasn't that making you unhappy?

I didn't know.

The police think you did.

That's why they're still following you.

Partners in crime?

Something like that.

Look, sit down, Ann.

Napoleon or someone said you could always
turn tragedy into comedy by sitting down.

It's true, I...

I was in love with him.

I still am, I suppose, except that it doesn't hurt
so much now, so maybe I'm not.

Do you know he's going to marry
Naomi Rushworth?

Yes, I do.

Why did you refuse to agree to a settlement
over the will?

He told me not to. He said there was something
odd about the body. Monkey business, he said.

He was sure the General had been dead
longer than they said

and someone mucked around with the body

- to cheat me out of the money.
- Yes, Robert.

That's despicable! I wouldn't have taken it all.
What use have I for £500,000?

To start a clinic?

Yes, one forgets.

We were going to start a clinic.

And that's when you took up books
on medicine and chemistry.

Yes.

You knew that you would inherit.

I didn't know how much.

She was very rich.
I'd have given Robert and George something.

Well, you would.
Penberthy might have been less generous.

It takes a lot of money to start a clinic.

You didn't know that she was going to leave
so much to her brother?

He was 12 years older. He was 90.
I didn't think she'd leave him anything.

And later, when you'd decided to settle after all?

We'd...

We'd quarrelled, you see.

Quarrelled?

He said...

He said I was...trying to buy him
and it was degrading, being bought.

He said I had a mania about sex -
I couldn't think of anything else

and that, now I was an heiress, I...

We were going to be married.

- He'd asked you?
- I thought he had. He said he hadn't.

I thought it was understood.

Do you feel that he was right about you?

I don't know.

I'm rather innocent in a lot of ways.

You know how it is
when you're in with an artistic crowd.

They're freer than other people.

At least, they talk about it more.

I suppose I did envy them,
being able to be free and not get hurt.

And with Walter, you see...

Well, he said that he had to be very discreet.

I ached for him, sometimes.

Well, that's being in love. That's quite different.

He'd made it sound so sordid.

I suppose he'd call it Freudian.

I didn't understand it.

He'd been difficult to reach.

I'd kept telephoning and...

..then suddenly, out of a clear blue sky,
such rotten things...

I wanted to help him. I wasn't trying to buy him.

Anyway, after that,
I didn't care about the money any more.

I told my solicitors to come to a settlement.

He wouldn't, you know, have been so brutal
to you if he hadn't been in fear of his life.

I told him there was going to be an autopsy.

He knew that the poison would be discovered.

And, if it was known that he was engaged to you,
he was bound to be suspected.

So he broke off the connection
and got engaged to somebody else.

Why do it in that brutal way?

Because, my dear,
he knew that that particular accusation

was the very last thing that a girl of your sort
would want to tell people about.

There's no proof he said those things.

There's no proof I wasn't involved.

Nothing.

Nothing to show that I wasn't party to a murder.

(Crows caw)

Now, what do you think you're doing?

I'm glad you've come.

He deserves to be punished.

- He?
- I mustn't say the name.

No, I see that.

"I killed my grandfather by giving him my pills.

I did not remember it
until I saw the name on the bottle.

But..."

- Yes.
- But what, sir?

But they've been looking for me, you see.

So I know he must have done it.

Ah, Charles, we've been expecting you.

Miss Ann Dorland, Inspector Parker.

Have you come to arrest me?

Just to ask you to come down to Scotland Yard
with me.

Well, she has a lot to tell you,
so you'd better have some tea first.

- Well, yes, all right, thanks.
- We can recommend the honey.

Shall we find any other friends at the Yard?

- Just possibly.
- Mm.

(Thud)
- Oh, really!

I'll go.

- Yes?
- I'm sorry, sir.

All right. Excuse me.

What am I to do?

Tell the truth.

It sounds so silly.

They will have heard sillier.

I won't...

I don't want to be the one to...

To get him hanged?

I can't.

Look, it may turn out to be him or you.

If it comes to that...

..he can take what's coming to him.

Good girl.

I thought you were going to be noble
or self-sacrificing and tiresome.

(Door opens)
- Developments?

Yes. It's a bit awkward.

They've got George Fentiman
in a country police station.

He's busy confessing to the murder.

I told them all about it. They wrote it down.

- George...
- Don't wake him. He's asleep.

- Who's asleep, dear?
- I mustn't say the name.

He'd hear me, even in his sleep,
even if you whispered it.

He's very tired, you see, and he nodded off.

And so I came in here and told them all about it.

I'm getting sleepy myself.

I've been watching him...for such a long time.

It's time to go to bed.

Is there anywhere my husband can lie down?

- Sergeant?
- Yes, sir?

I shouldn't take him from the house
just for the moment.

I think he'll be more settled after a sleep.

- Mrs Fentiman, if you'd like to go home...
- No, I shall stay with him.

- George...
- If you'll go with the officer, madam.

He's very cunning, but if you creep up on him
quickly now that he's asleep,

you'll be able to bind him in chains
and cast him into the pit.

And then I shall be able to sleep.

We'll have a shot at it, sir.

Sergeant...

Nervous shock with well-marked delusions.

He's been this way before,
as I think you probably know.

- Question is...
- Yes?

Was he under a delusion
that he killed his grandfather?

Or did he actually do it,
believing himself to be possessed?

- How can one possibly say?
- You can't give an opinion?

Well, he certainly thinks he killed his grandfather.

It's very hard to say what a man might
or might not do

when he's under the influence of delusions.

He'd be technically insane, you understand.

There'd be no question of hanging.

Well, it seems to me, if you'll excuse me
pushing my opinions forward and all that,

that there was only one occasion when he could
have administered digitalis to his grandfather.

That was in a taxi, driving around Regent's Park.

Now, how many of his own and/or his wife's pills

would he have had to persuade
the old man to swallow

to account for the amount of digitalis
found in the stomach?

Well...yes.

It's impossible. Of course.

I thought you and I might drive back together,
Penberthy.

I'd rather like to have a word with you.

We might drop in at the club.

What do you want me to do?

You've been a soldier.
I think you're a decent fellow.

If you're arrested, as things are, nothing
can prevent Ann Dorland being arrested too.

She might even be found guilty.

You haven't treated her any too well as it is.

You don't want the girl to hang, Penberthy,
do you?

Write a confession, is that it?

Telling the truth. A clean account.

Make it clear that
Miss Dorland had nothing to do with it.

And then?

Then...do as you like.

In your place, I...

Well, I know what I would do.

It's funny, isn't it?

If Robert Fentiman hadn't been a rogue,
if he'd been an honest man,

I'd have got my half million.

Ann Dorland would have had
a perfectly good husband.

And the world would have gained a fine clinic.

But Robert Fentiman was a rogue.

So here we are.

I didn't mean to be such a sweep
to the Dorland girl.

It was all so hideously easy,
that was the devil of it.

The old man came to see me
and put himself right into my hands.

In one breath, he said that I hadn't got
a dog's chance of getting the money

and in the next, he asked me for a prescription.

All I had to do was put the stuff in two capsules...

..and tell him to take them at seven o'clock.

Then he put them in his spectacle case
so he wouldn't forget them.

(Knock on door)
- It's probably Colonel Marchbanks.

I asked him to come.

Wimsey, Penberthy. Got your note.

I'm sure you don't mind, Penberthy.
Wimsey tells me you have some writing to do.

I happen to have brought this with me
from my private locker.

I'm placing it in this drawer...

..preparatory to taking it down
to the country tomorrow.

And if I fight it...

make you prove your case?

Then you drag Miss Dorland down with you.

I'll wait for you outside.

- I'll be in the bar if...
- Yeah, all right, Colonel. I'll come with you.

Wait.

Do you know what you're really saying?

That because an old man was killed -

an old man, over 90, worn out,
he could have died at any moment -

that because of that,
you are generously giving me the opportunity

of blowing my brains out
in a gentlemanly fashion,

or having my neck broken
by the public hangman.

And I could do good work.

I'm a doctor.

Yes, I know what we're really saying.

Drink?

I think so.

Unpleasant business.

Not gentlemanly, really.

Oh, hello, Tin-Tummy.
Don't often see you around the place.

- Whisky, Peter?
- Please.

I've been south for a month or two.
My wife's people have a place in Rapallo.

I'm fed up with this climate and this country.

Two whiskies, please, Fred.
What about you, Tin-Tummy?

Not allowed, old boy. Anything stronger than milk
eats away at the fixtures and fittings.

I can't say I like the taste of Malvern water,
but at least it gives one a glass to hold.

Life's hardly worth living, really,
if you think about it.

Christmas coming, makes it even worse.

Deadly season, Christmas.
Can't think why they invented it.

- It's all right if you've got kids. They enjoy it.
(Gunshot)

Hello, what was that?

Motorbike backfiring? Sounded a bit close.

Came from the library, I think.

Well, somebody better find out what happened.

Peter?

You'll find a piece of paper on the desk
in the library.

I say, here's another unpleasantness!
Penberthy's shot himself in the library!

People really ought to show more consideration
for the members.

Where's the secretary?