Original subtitles

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

It has been a long time since my last confession in this church.

- Welcome back. - Hawthorne is the name.

Lord Hawthorne?

- You are the talk of the village. - Hardly surprising.

Things are about to become rather more interesting around here.

In what way?

Important men will visit me and this very church.

Dignitaries. Even world leaders.

You, vicariously, will become rather important.

You will have the privilege of being at my beck and call

to attend to my spiritual needs.

I will do my best.

As I do for all my parishioners.

Father, you do know who I am?

- Yes. - Then you know how deep my pockets are.

I will fund a new church roof and whatever else you want.

That's very kind of you.

It's not an act of charity.

It's to show my appreciation for your devotion.

With respect, Lord Hawthorne...

my devotion is not for sale.

Bishop Reynard warned me you might not be amenable.

Too concerned with extracurricular activities.

But I told him we should give you a chance to prove your loyalty.

From now on I suggest

your first duty is to me.

My first duty is to God.

Please.

Do not smoke.

It is an offence to God's Holy House and Sacrament.

Father, as far as you should be concerned.

I am God.

Just think.

The owner of the Daily Enquirer returning to St Mary's.

- Well, he's a role model I suppose. - Indeed.

Pity about the son.

- I can't imagine Lord Hawthorne's shame. - Shame?

Father, do you never read a newspaper?

- A different floozy every night apparently. - Father! I'm so glad you could make it.

Uh, meet my son Gabe. Gabe!

Fresh out of Cambridge.

Pleasure, Father.

Mrs McCarthy, parish secretary.

And this gorgeous creature is Margot, my wife.

Charmed.

I'm so looking forward to getting to know everyone.

It's an honour

to have you here.

Now if there's anything you need

- anything at all... - We'll let you know.

Father, let me introduce you to my former priest from London.

Father Brown, Father Featherstone.

He could teach you a thing or two.

Father, I do not know how you do it.

Do what exactly?

This place.

I'll concede it's aesthetically pleasing, but my goodness it is dull.

Heaven knows how Arthur will cope

so far away from civilisation.

He may enjoy the pace of life here.

Between us, your pace of life is going to change somewhat.

I'm reliably informed that you are the hub of the community.

Oh, I don't know about that.

Though I suppose you could say I am at the heart

of most things that happen in the village.

I should very much like to write for the parish magazine.

I have experience at the Enquirer.

Oh, you write.

Though I can't say I've ever seen your name.

I write Arthur's editorials.

Not that that's common knowledge you understand.

Your secret is safe with me.

And may I ask, what has brought you back to Kembleford?

Entre nous, a health scare of Arthur's.

I insisted on a change of life...

away from Westminster and high society.

Back to his roots, where nothing ever happens.

What are your plans now?

After Cambridge.

Between us, Father, I intend to travel.

To avoid the prying eyes of the British press?

Exactly. No more waking up to slanderous articles.

Oh, you'll be far too busy to disgrace my name any further.

I don't understand.

Your time has come, my boy.

Top job is yours.

Aren't you going to thank me?

Thank you.

Would you excuse me?

Detective Inspector Mallory my Lord, Kembleford Police.

Uh, and Sergeant Goodfellow, sir, at your service.

Oh, yes. I've heard good things.

All of them true.

Don't believe we've had the pleasure.

Father Brown.

You're not going to preach at me, are you?

Wouldn't dream of it.

- Is it just me or can you smell... - Garlic.

My thoughtless landlady dried my shirt on the line.

Well, good job you're not a vampire then.

I'm not sure I can say the same about our host.

- Not a friend of Lord Hawthorne's? - More of a victim actually.

I see.

Did he print something?

Ruined me, for a few column inches.

Thanks to him I'm what you might call a social pariah.

Which rather begs the question...

why are you here?

Would it help to talk?

I appreciate your concern, Father.

But your God and I are no longer compatible.

"String Quartet in D Major" by Haydn.

Lady Hawthorne?

Is... Is everything alright?

Have you met our former priest, Father Featherstone?

- Oh, delighted to make your acquaintance. - Oh, do I detect a Cork accent?

What a divine place.

Yes, well I can hardly disagree with you there.

Tell me, do you find Kembleford as provincial as I do?

Provincial?

I happen to be the parish secretary.

I see. Would you excuse me?

I get the impression that the "top job" isn't your lifetime's ambition.

Was it obvious?

Hello, Arthur.

I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest.

Now, if you will excuse me. Ow!

You know exactly who I am.

Inspector...

would you remove this erm...

...gentleman.

If you don't mind?

Time I left anyway.

Oh, and Arthur.

Your actions, they do have consequences.

Enjoy the party.

Thank you.

Thank you. You have all made me feel very welcome.

Well, almost everyone.

What a terrible waste of a rather fine champagne.

Now, as some of you may know, Margot has pushed me out to pasture.

While I will remain as chairman

uh, it is time I stepped down as editor of my beloved Enquirer.

But it gives me great pleasure to introduce my erm...

SUCCessor.

Has anyone seen my...

...Somebody call an ambulance!

You're in good hands, Lord Hawthorne.

- Pressure Sergeant. Pressure. - - Right you are, Father.

Father.

Father, where are you...

Shot must have been taken from here.

So erm, what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?

"FL"

Who's "FL"?

Who indeed.

I'm fine.

Merely a flesh wound.

Who would do such a thing?

Maybe the man who threw his champagne in my face.

- Have the police caught him yet? - No.

But they've left an officer outside. You're quite safe.

Where were you both during my speech?

I was trying to find Mother.

I had to lie down. Splitting headache.

Oh, what bad timing.

Father.

I'm relieved to see you looking so well.

Uh, would you excuse us?

It... Of course. I must update the press and Winston.

As in Churchill.

...Thank you for attending to me.

I trust you've had a change of heart?

Rest assured I will support you as much as I can.

Mmm. But?

I must serve my parishioners equally.

Therefore I cannot commit to being at your sole beck and call.

Then I seriously advise that you request a transfer.

St Mary's has been my parish for a long time.

Please respect my position.

Respect is all that I asked for.

I think we're done here.

Thank you.

Canon Fox, good morning.

- To what do we owe the pleas... - This isn't a social call I'm afraid.

It is with a heavy heart

that on the orders of Bishop Reynard I must suspend you

with immediate effect.

I don't understand.

We have been informed that you have broken the seal of the confessional.

Father Brown is incapable of such a thing.

Who has made this complaint?

- I'm not at liberty to say. - Oh, but you believe it.

Do you?

I will carry out an investigation

the findings of which will be sent to Rome

for the attention of His Holiness.

I can assure you I am entirely innocent.

I do hope that's true.

Alas, if found guilty, your excommunication

will be confirmed.

Ah, Father. You're here.

None of this makes any sense.

We take these accusations extremely seriously.

However, Father Brown may remain here for now.

And how are we supposed to manage without our priest?

Father Featherstone has kindly agreed to step into the breach

- until this matter is resolved. - But he's...

He's not even from this diocese.

Arrangements have been made.

Good day, Mrs McCarthy.

How nice to see you again.

Father?

In here.

Father.

How can you defend yourself

if they won't tell you anything about this allegation?

The seal of the confessional is sacrosanct.

- Don't worry, I'm sure everything will... - Yes.

Yes, I'm sure everything will be just grand.

I don't mean to intrude.

So, about this complaint.

It wouldn't have been made by someone of great influence, would it?

Complaint?

I've been accused of breaking the seal.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Could someone show me to my room?

Certainly, Father.

I only hope it isn't too "provincial" for you.

My men are on the case.

But as our prime suspect didn't speak to any guests

he's proving difficult to identify.

I should have told you.

I saw him talking to Father Brown.

Why am I not surprised?

Thank you for your time.

Until this man is caught I don't want either of you out of my sight.

In that case perhaps someone else should take over at the Enquirer.

Someone with the right experience.

Oh, I will oversee your editorship.

I thought you'd retired?

So I'll have time to train him up.

Actually, I'm not sure it's for me.

Going to stand on your own two feet are you?

With your reputation?

Trust me, this will be the making of you.

Of course. I'll head to Fleet Street as soon as this is all over.

Good.

This was your intention all along, wasn't it?

To use him as your puppet.

Your editor by proxy.

He'll just need some guidance at first.

And your editorials.

Well then it's perhaps time I used my own opinion.

Fallen off the wagon have we?

Course not.

Then why are you being obstreperous?

I really can't fathom why.

I was so very saddened to hear about your predicament.

Though I do suppose that means you won't be getting under my feet anymore.

So, every cloud...

How can I help you, Inspector?

I gather you spoke to the man who caused the altercation yesterday.

You really should have said.

He seems to bear a grudge against Lord Hawthorne

for something he printed.

That's all I know.

That's all I need.

By the way, what will people call you now?

Mr Brown?

You'll always be "The Padre" to me.

Father, the cufflink.

Now, if you can find the owner of that cufflink

then you have found the culprit

and Lord Hawthorne will have to come to his senses.

The milk is off.

Isn't that the last straw?

Garlic.

Mrs Beckett's!

How did you know I was here?

A hunch.

I recalled that Mrs Beckett sells garlic, which she grows behind her B&B.

Might I ask your full name?

Stanley Buchanan. Why?

Do you recognise this?

Should I?

I believe that it belongs to the person who shot Lord Hawthorne.

I heard on the wireless. I'm just sorry it's not more serious.

He thinks you're responsible.

Perhaps he should look closer to home.

What do you mean by that?

His wife was looking rather murderous at the party

right after she received a package.

Nothing to do with me, I hasten.

Then why don't you go to the police.

Allow them to eliminate you from their enquiries.

I don't trust them, Father.

We have history.

Because you're a homosexual?

And Lord Hawthorne put that in print and made you a pariah.

And thanks to Hawthorne, I'm an exile in my own country.

Work, family, friends, the only man I ever loved, all gone.

You hide your disgust well, Father.

I have none to hide.

How were you incriminated?

An unjust encounter with the law.

I haven't done anything!

Afterwards they searched my university rooms.

Found love letters.

Proof of my inclinations.

Did your friend suffer the same fate?

Thankfully his letters weren't submitted as evidence.

Sergeant McNally's testimony was enough.

He claimed I'd been caught in a compromising position with another man.

One who conveniently escaped as I was arrested.

He perjured himself.

I refused to deny who I am.

For which you have, no doubt, paid a high price.

My time on remand left its mark on me

so I agreed to hormone therapy

to avoid a custodial sentence.

Chemical castration.

I'm so sorry.

But if I am indeed cured

then why do I feel so dead inside?

- You will find solace in God. - Oh, it's too late for that, Father.

I will find out who is responsible.

Thank you for leading me straight to him, Padre.

I'm arresting you for the attempted murder of Lord Hawthorne.

- I didn't do it! - You are not obliged to say anything

but anything you do say may be given in evidence.

Trust me!

If it wasn't him, who else could it be?

Apparently, Lady Hawthorne received a package at the party

which angered her.

Right enough, she did look very upset before the speech.

I didn't see her then.

Nor her son Gabe for that matter.

Evening mass! Whoever heard of such a thing.

The arrogance of that man.

Father, are you sure you really want to face this?

God is testing me.

But I have faith that the truth will out.

I know this must be unsettling to see me up here.

But let me assure you that one thing will never change.

God's love for us.

So we must honour that love

by resisting temptation

being kind, standing up for what is right.

He will...

We will disappoint Him.

But as long as you confess your sins

and truly repent...

then all will be forgiven.

Thank you for coming.

Godspeed.

I realise this must be difficult for you.

Well, I must admit it's a novel experience, being in the congregation of your own church.

And Mrs McCarthy.

I fear we didn't set off on the right foot.

Tea is in order, and perhaps some of your legendary scones?

My scones are only for the rightful priest of this parish.

Father?

I think it best that you keep a low profile.

Your presence here will not help the congregation accept Father Featherstone.

With respect Canon Fox, this is surely a temporary situation

because you will find out the truth, won't you?

Lord Hawthorne!

It's good to see you up and about.

It takes far more than that to take down my husband.

Well, it seems that your reputation as an amateur sleuth is justified.

Then please heed my advice and reinstate your protection.

- Perhaps that's for the best. - Nonsense.

Mallory has his man. I'm perfectly safe now.

Come along.

Did you see that?

Yes.

Trouble in paradise, perhaps?

Your motive couldn't be any clearer.

Revenge on Lord Hawthorne for fulfilling his moral duty.

Moral duty?

As you're perfectly aware

what you do is illegal.

Which serves only to make others like me vulnerable to blackmail.

And police corruption

as I know only too well.

The law protects those who are normal from being converted.

So you think I could convert you?

What are you implying?

Well, if it's that easy.

I was talking about the suggestable.

Oh, believe me Inspector, you're quite safe.

Men like myself pose no threat to anyone, and yet

we are perceived to be worse than murderers.

Can't you see that's wrong?

All I see is that what you do is perverted.

Then perhaps you should consider why you feel so threatened by it.

Enough.

Now, you told Lord Hawthorne that his actions have consequences.

A statement of intent if ever I heard one.

If I was going to shoot him would I really have made a scene in public first?

You have no evidence.

No gun.

I'd say your position hangs on a very delicate thread.

My position?

I can only imagine what your superiors will say

when the real perpetrator finishes the job.

I saw the light on.

I can't sleep.

No.

Maybe a game of dominoes?

Why not?

Yeah. Take your mind off things.

Whatever would I do without you, Mrs McCarthy?

I suppose you know who is sleeping like a baby?

I'm not so sure.

Well, let me tell you.

No one was impressed by that performance of his in church today.

Is that who I think it is?

At this time of night?

Police! Now!

Someone's trying to kill me.

I arrived just after the incident.

Unfortunately I didn't see anyone.

And all staff were present and correct after the shooting?

I'm sure of it. Only these two were unaccounted for.

I've been having trouble sleeping.

I had to go for a walk to clear my head.

As did I.

Together?

No.

And did you happen to see anything suspicious?

If we had don't you think we would've said something?

Uh, sir?

I found this hidden in the wood.

We'll get it checked but it looks like a match

for the bullet that was fired at you, my Lord.

I could have been killed because of your incompetence.

If it is the same weapon then you have my assurance

that we will catch the real culprit.

You no longer have my full confidence, Inspector.

You asked to see me, Lord Hawthorne?

I should have listened to you.

And perhaps I wasn't entirely fair.

- Entirely? - But if you find out who's behind it

then we can forget about the other business.

The other business is my calling.

My vocation.

- My home. - Then you should have fallen into line.

I serve God.

Not parishioners with a God complex.

Are you going to help me or not?

- I will need the guest list for the party. - It's yours.

Lady Hawthorne and your son.

Are they proficient... We're a shooting family.

I'll do all I can.

Oh, but you better hurry.

By the end of the day wheels will have been set in motion which I cannot stop.

There was no "FL" on the guest list.

Lady Hawthorne and Gabe were conspicuously absent during the second shooting.

I can't believe Lady Hawthorne is responsible.

Besides, wouldn't a cufflink suggest it's a man?

I get the impression Gabe wants to break free from his father.

But would he attempt patricide for that reason?

There is another person

who was missing when Lord Hawthorne was shot.

The same person who's contraption we heard last night.

I will speak to Father Featherstone.

Could you try and find out what was in the package

that was delivered to Lady Hawthorne?

I will do my very best, Father.

And don't you worry.

We are going to put an end to this...

this madness.

I thought a tour of the village might be in order.

I'd like that.

Have you met Bucephalus?

Named after Alexander the Great's war horse.

Ah. This beauty is Jude.

Named after the priest who inspired my calling.

Inspired? In what way?

I was quite the delinquent, if you can believe that.

He straightened me out. Showed me the path to God.

Then you have come far.

I couldn't help but hear Jude last night.

Just before the latest shooting.

I went to see Lord Hawthorne.

Just as well really as he was quite unsettled after what happened.

At mass, Lord Hawthorne's arrival unsettled you.

Just at the point where you were talking about doing the right thing.

Nerves got the better of me.

Or perhaps you are painfully aware.

Lord Hawthorne's allegation against me is false.

Father, I know that Kembleford is not your natural habitat

so why would you agree to come here?

Do you really think I had a choice?

If you're quite finished, I need to get cleaned up.

I'll give the tour a miss.

Thank you.

Lady Hawthorne.

How nice to see a friendly face.

Well, a friend in need.

After what happened last night, I thought you might want some company.

Thank you, but I'm fine.

Would you like one?

At this hour? Uh, no, no I think not.

I wouldn't normally, but with a madman on the loose...

Yes.

I'll ask Danby to get you some tea.

Oh, thank you.

What are you doing?

I am sorry, Lady Hawthorne... MARGOT: Get out!

Did you really have no idea?

When Arthur had his health scare...

there was a young woman at the hospital.

He said she found him on the street, but I knew he was lying.

Of course, he was repentant.

Assured me it was a one off.

- I see. - He moved here to mollify me.

Away from distractions.

So I'm just going to burn those and forget it.

Do you really think you can forget?

My husband was an adulterer.

I chose not to live a lie.

And I haven't regretted that for a single second.

I won't ruin him or shame Gabe.

Bridget.

Please promise me you won't tell anyone about this.

Rest assured, Lady Hawthorne, I can be the soul of discretion.

I saw the photographs with my own eyes.

Can you believe the hypocrisy of that man?

Lady Hawthorne would appear to have the most compelling motive

and yet...

I get the impression Father Featherstone is here against his will.

- Now, that's exactly what Mrs Herbert thought. - Who?

His parish secretary in Chelsea. I've just spoken to her on the telephone.

And she, for the life of her, couldn't understand

how he would willingly accept a post like this.

Did she say why?

Oh, because he had his eye on becoming an Archbishop, would you believe?

Well then, it all makes sense.

- Does it? - We haven't got much time.

So which one of you was it then?

God knows it should have been me.

Perhaps it's one of your mistresses?

I received those at the party.

From who?

Ugh, of course.

Now, you stay there.

All the things he said about me.

He acts like he's some kind of moral guardian but he's nothing more than a philanderer.

We'll draw a line under it.

Kembleford is a new start.

Do you really think he can change?

Look at what he's turned you into.

You are so much better than this.

I gather you had a stellar career mapped out.

Which makes me wonder why you agreed to come here.

Did Lord Hawthorne make you an offer you couldn't refuse?

I am complicit in a great injustice.

Yours.

I don't think it's going to work out with Father Brown.

Oh, he'll come round.

If not, I want you to take over.

Here?

I... I'm flattered, but you know my ambitions.

One year. Help me settle in.

- Then I'll pull some strings. - A promotion?

Bishop by 35, I'd imagine.

A meteoric rise.

Do we have a deal?

Of course. But what about... Father Brown?

Ah, just leave him to me.

I had no idea he would stoop this low.

Is that why you went to see him last night?

I went to tell him I couldn't be a part of it.

And now I must leave the priesthood.

No.

You know if you confess and repent, God will forgive you.

As will I.

When I tell the truth, Arthur will ensure that I am excommunicated.

Which is nothing less than I deserve.

Resigning really is the only honourable way out.

And what then?

I will find a new way to serve God.

Somewhere far away from here.

Ah, there you are.

Time for our chat.

My findings are to be sent to Rome in the morning.

Lord Hawthorne has fabricated this allegation.

And why exactly would he do that?

I cannot break the seal of the confessional.

Then my hands are tied.

On behalf of Bishop Reynard I'd like to thank you for your many years of service.

It has been...

memorable knowing you if nothing else.

I have something to say.

Who went to Cambridge?

I beg your pardon?

I had a pair of these myself.

Yes, I used to like to tread the boards.

- You need to know that... - No!

He doesn't.

Thank you.

He really doesn't.

Must dash.

They're sure?

Ballistics confirmed the rifle fired both bullet, sir.

- Fingerprints? - - Wiped clean.

We need something to go on.

Our ruddy necks are on the line here, Sergeant!

Ours, sir?

You're free to go.

I'm waiting for my apology.

Oh, I'm sure we'll be seeing you again.

Father?

What can I do for you?

The shot into your father's study was a miss.

So I assume you only meant to scare him

as by all accounts you are an excellent shot.

I don't understand.

Nn FL. nn.

Not as I first presumed, someone's initials

but the Footlights...

the comedy review society at Cambridge.

The university from which you have just graduated.

I wasn't a member. Ask anyone.

No, but somebody at the party was.

That's where you met.

- You are the love that Stanley lost. - I don't know what you are talking about.

You couldn't bear for him to go back to prison.

So you took the second shot

and left the rifle to be found.

I think you should leave.

I will not betray your confidence.

You have my word.

I tried, I really did.

I courted so many women, and even the publicity

so No one would ever guess who I truly desired.

He was my English tutor.

And it just felt right.

You disappeared from the party.

I assume you went to find him.

Yes.

What are you doing?

When Stanley was first arrested, I...

! was terrified the police would come after me.

But they never did.

And I never dared look at a man that way again.

Where is your father?

I have no idea.

We need to find him.

Those consequences you mentioned.

I'm going to need the negatives.

- What? - Don't play me for a fool.

For the photographs you sent to my wife.

I'll pay you.

And then you never come near my family ever again.

Alright. They're in my car.

Show me.

Ah! Father Featherstone, heaven sent. May I borrow Jude?

- It's an emergency. - Oh, it's the least I could do.

Your car appears to be missing.

It was never here.

You've got it all wrong you see.

This is the consequence I was talking about.

Get off!

He's been released.

Sergeant! We need to find Lord Hawthorne as a matter of urgency.

I've just seen him, Father, driving up

towards Chipping Point with Stanley Buchanan.

- I'm going to tell the Inspector. - We'll see you there.

No! Father, wait!

Get him off me!

Stanley!

I understand now.

Lord Hawthorne didn't just report your arrest, did he?

What do you mean?

Your father must've known about us.

A few weeks ago, I saw him with the man who arrested me

and suddenly it all made sense.

My arrest, the perjury, he set it up.

And you were protected

even though the police found your letters.

I saved you from a life of filth!

And signed your own death warrant.

If you do this you will hang!

Don't you see, Father?

I was always going to hell with Arthur.

Where I belong.

You have much to look forward to.

No, that's not true.

Who do you think got you released?

I shot at him so they would let you go.

You did what?

You'll be rid of him now. Find someone else.

- Live a good life. - - I don't want anyone else.

Gabe!

My body is changing.

I've taken female hormones.

To cure me.

But you don't need to be cured.

Stanley, please. Just let him go and we can be together again.

No son of mine is queer.

Stanley for the sake of your immortal soul, let him go.

Hasn't he done enough damage already?

You're not worth it.

Lord Hawthorne.

Given the injustice Stanley has suffered

perhaps you could overlook his intemperate-...

I will overlook nothing.

You will be excommunicated.

You will be back behind bars and you will take over the Enquirer.

I don't think so.

Not when I've got quite the story to tell.

"Lord Hawthorne's adultery shame."

Where's the proof?

Remiss of you not to check really.

You wouldn't destroy your own legacy.

After what you've done to Stanley

it'd be a pleasure.

Lord Hawthorne.

Everything alright, sir?

Just straightening out a little misunderstanding, that's all.

You're not safe out here without protection. Let me escort you home.

I don't see the point.

It's abundantly clear to me that you are useless.

I can't believe you just did that.

Father.

How can we ever repay you?

Well, there is just one small thing.

Why are your bags packed?

Oh no, darling. They're yours.

Those photographs were taken by a private detective you see.

I wanted to see how genuine you were

after your indiscretion.

No, thank you.

I will never be unfaithful again.

It's immaterial now.

I've just been writing my own column.

It feels so liberating not to be churning out your hate.

And who's going to publish you?

Well you of course. In the Enquirer.

Don't be ridiculous.

I assume you want me to maintain a dignified silence?

I know how you hate to become the story.

It would seem, Father, that I'm not as incompatible with the church as I thought.

Thanks to you.

Well, I'm glad to have you back in the fold.

- And Lord Hawthorne? - Has decided not to retire after all.

- He's gone back to London. - London?

Best place for him.

And you're off to see the world, I hear.

With my companion.

God be with you.

Once again, Father, I can't tell you how relieved I am

that this was all a misunderstanding.

A relief indeed.

All's well that ends...

well.

- Back to Chelsea? - Ah, not for long.

I've decided to set sail to Swaziland.

Swazi... As a missionary?

You gave me a second chance, Father.

From now on I owe it to God to help those who need me most.

Well, that's very admirable indeed.

And I believe someone has a gift for you.

Oh, yes.

Just a few strawberry scones, award winning.

By way of apology for having been less than welcoming.

How thrilling.

I do hope you'll keep in touch.

- Godspeed. - Goodbye.

God bless.

I don't think I could handle another replacement, Father.

I can assure you, Mrs McCarthy, I have no intention of going anywhere.

Well, that is a relief.

You may not be as... as sprightly

but there's no substitute for experience.