All language subtitles for Father.Brown.2013.S01E06.DVDRip.X264-iNGOT.English

Sancto spiritu.

In gloria Dei patris. Amen.

Dominus vobiscum.

Father Brown (2013) 1x06: The Bride of Christ
Original air date: January 21, 2013

- Amen.
- Amen.

Thought I might find you here.

I took it on myself to make sure
the body wasn't disturbed, Inspector.

Thank you, Father.

Sergeant, secure the scene.
And get the police surgeon down here.

I want a provisional theory
as to cause of death.

The colouration of the face
would suggest cyanide poisoning.

I think I can take it from here.

Very well, Inspector,
I'll leave it to you.

Wipe your face.

Sister Mary Magdalene is,
we dare to hope,

in the arms of Jesus.

You'd be better occupied
praying for her soul,

rather than indulging
in unseemly histrionics.

Sorry, Sister.

There's no need for this!

I'll thank you not to pull rank
where the novices are concerned.

This is not the way we do things here.
Get up, dear...

- Stay where you are!
- How dare you flout my... my authority.

Authority's earned,
I think you'll find.

Sister Bernadette, go to the kitchen and get
yourself a cup of tea and something to eat.

Quickly now.
You're as white as a sheet. Go.

Girls...

Inspector, this is our new
novice mistress, Sister Paul.

She arrived last week
from Calcutta.

Where standards of discipline
were much higher.

Is there any news, Inspector?

The police surgeon has
provisionally mooted

cyanide poisoning
as cause of death.

Ah... We can only assume
it's some tragic accident.

Sergeant, find out what
Sister Mary Magdalene

ate and drank this morning.

I imagine nothing. She will have been
observing her fast before Holy Communion.

As we all were.

Then I can only conclude
she must've broken her fast.

A wilful girl with a streak of rebellion.

Perhaps you have some duties
to attend to, Sister.

Do you know of any cyanide
kept on the premises?

Golly, tons of the stuff!

You'd need to speak to our vintner,
Sister Boniface, she's in the winery.

Nuns making wine?

Our Lord asks for poverty,
chastity and obedience.

He never said anything
about sobriety.

Amen to that.

In that case, if someone would be
kind enough to direct me.

Our Sisters lead sheltered lives
and are unused to laymen.

The presence of a chaperone would be
both reassuring and appropriate, I feel.

Of course, Reverend Mother.

You know our chaplain, don't you?
Father Brown.

- Tom.
- Father.

Terrible business.

- Inspector Valentine. And you are?
- Tom Evans.

Can I ask your whereabouts
between nine and ten this morning?

In the garden. I'm the gardener.

- You live on site?
- With my wife.

- Does she work at the convent?
- They've enough women to do their work.

She does their shopping
in the village, that's all.

Did you know
Sister Mary Magdalene?

I don't talk to the novices.
It'd be asking for trouble.

I'll be sending someone to take a statement
from you and your wife as a matter of routine.

She's in Cheltenham. Her mother's sick.
I've told her to stay there.

- How is Mrs Evans' Mother?
- TB.

I'll remember them in my prayers.

- One of yours?
- Lapsed.

His wife attends
when her health permits.

- An invalid?
- Heart condition.

I see the nuns are used to the
presence of one layman at least.

The novices are refusing to drink from
the water fountain in case it's poisoned.

Sister Lawrence says
the kitchen is in chaos.

- They're frightened.
- Or guilty.

No doubt this deplorable incident

will turn out to be some
of their juvenile horseplay.

It's far too early to speculate.

Sloppy discipline stems
from poor leadership,

which is hardly surprising, given
the character of some in charge here.

I didn't come all the way from India

to find myself subordinate to
my spiritual and moral inferior.

And if that person
has atoned for their sins?

Covered up, more like.

The Order may be appraised,

but I wonder if the Diocese
is aware of their transgressions.

In which case, maybe his grace
should be informed immediately,

before another novice is poisoned.

You do as you must, Sister.

Oh, I will. Make no doubt of that.

Hello? Thank you. Yes.

Yes. Put him through.

Sister Mary Magdalene's father.

I wish you luck
explaining this one.

I won't let you destroy St Agnes.

What exactly are you
going to do about it?

Whatever I have to.

- Sister Boniface.
- Father Brown.

I suspected you
might be on the case.

Father Brown is present
as chaperone.

- He has no part in this investigation.
- Righto.

Inspector Valentine.

Interesting choice
of reading matter, Sister.

No disrespect to poor
Sister Mary Magdalene,

but I couldn't help notice
the appearance of the corpse.

- Thought a spot of research in order.
- With the help of Miss Christie.

Do you think it was cyanide poisoning,
Father Brown?

I am making no assumptions
at this stage in the investigation.

A puzzling case.

I expect you'll be only too glad
of Father Brown's help.

Like Lord Peter Wimsey
and Inspector Parker.

Sister Ignatius! Sister Ignatius!
How dare you run in God's house!

Question: With cyanide being
such a fast-acting poison,

Sister Mary Magdalene
must've ingested it

minutes before she entered
the chapel, but how and where?

Potassium ferrocyanide.

We use it to remove copper
and iron particles left in the wine

by bentonites and metals.

There's enough to kill
half of Gloucestershire.

Twelve bottles.

Or should that be eleven?

It appears you have
a cuckoo in the nest.

Similar to the naked eye,
but it's tetrasodium hexacyanoferrate,

or sodium ferrocyanide.

Bravo, Father. Your reputation
clearly isn't exaggerated.

Is it toxic?

Relatively non, because the CN ions
are bound to the FE.

If you don't mind.
Maybe you could, erm...

And chaperone silently.

And may God find you the grace
to make yourself worthy.

Who has access
to the chemical stores?

We don't keep things
under lock and key here.

Ours is a community of trust.

Yes?

Gossips are sinful.

Saint Paul lumps them
with murderers and God-haters.

Although personally,
I always thought that was a little harsh.

Father?

- May I?
- Yes.

It doesn't count as gossip
if it is pertinent

to a current police investigation.

Right, well, Sister Abelard found
anomalies in the stock take.

She assumed it was a mistake,
but I thought, "How peculiar?"

Sister Abelard never makes mistakes.
Double first in maths.

Brain like an adding machine.

We call her Sister Abacus.

- Who's responsible for this?
- Me.

- On my orders.
- You've tampered with a crime scene.

I put the sensibilities
of our Sisters first.

Clear the scene. Organise a full search
of the body and surrounding area.

- And take statements from everyone who was here.
- Yes, sir.

And Sergeant?
Get the police surgeon back.

And Sergeant... stop these bells.

- What are you doing?
- Oh! Erm...

Sister Paul's relatives
need to be informed.

So I'm looking for
some personal information.

That's down to me, I think.

Yes.
Yes, of course, Reverend Mother.

What happens now, Inspector?

- A search of the convent.
- All of it?

Starting with the deceased nun's
cells and Sister Paul's office.

Is that really necessary?

I've two suspicious deaths.

Anything less would be grounds
for my dismissal.

No one here has anything to hide.

Oh, we all have something to hide.

Several things, in my case.

I'm sure we'll manage to conduct
ourselves appropriately.

Father, Sister Mary Magdalene,
would you say she was a looker?

Holy Mary Mother of God,
pray for us sinners.

She was a Bride of Christ.
Without wrinkle or blemish of any kind.

- I'll take that as a "yes."
- I don't think I like what you're implying.

I told you to stay put.
You're making a show of yourself.

They seem an ill-matched couple.
And when the cat's away...

Coo-ee!

Um... Will you excuse me, Inspector?

Of course. I'm sure I can manage.

We just heard the news.
Holy Mother!

What a thing.
And in a convent of all places.

Dreadful, Mrs McCarthy.
And who do we have here?

My godchild. I'm in loco parentis
while mother's in hospital for...

...for ailments
you needn't worry about.

A proper little bruiser.

And what is your name,
my fine young fellow?

Abigail.

Hebrew for "beautiful".

Well, well, well.
What have we here?

- Looks like we've got a secret lush.
- Sir...

Get that to the lab please,
Sergeant.

- And you'd better find me Father Brown.
- Yes, sir.

What are you doing?

Hello, Father!
I know what you're thinking.

The murderer returns
to the scene of the crime.

Hm... Is that a confession,
Sister Boniface?

Oh! Very good, Father.

Fact: Sister Paul was in full sight
for ten minutes before she died,

giving Sister Ignatius a record
tongue-lashing by all accounts.

But like Sister Mary Magdalene,

the police found nothing to explain
how she ingested the poison.

A conundrum.

In "Death In The Clouds", Mme Giselle
was murdered with a poisoned thorn.

Dipped, as I recall, in the venom
of a South African boomslang snake.

A poisonous species
rarely found in the Cotswolds.

- You are well read, Father.
- I do love a mystery.

On the subject of which,

Inspector Valentine would like
you to make an identification.

You confirm these as the items
missing from the winery?

Yes. I expect you need to
take a statement from me.

And fingerprints?

In due course.

We may have found our motive.

Sister Mary Magdalene discovered
Sister Paul's alcoholism and theft,

and was poisoned to keep her quiet.

And then she poisoned herself?

And then...

...unable to live with the guilt,
took her own life.

After finding time
to berate Sister Ignatius

for ten minutes
before she committed suicide.

And how was the poison ingested?

The only items found
on the body were, er...

...reading glasses, handkerchief,
keys, notebook, pencil,

ball of string
and a Swiss Army penknife.

- I took notes.
- Very thorough.

No doubt the post mortem
will shed light on the matter.

Alcoholism and petty theft...
a motive for murder?

To compound venial sin
for so heinous a mortal sin?

Followed by suicide.

The ultimate mortal sin.

If you'll allow the police to
get on with their investigation,

I'm sure things will become
clear in due course.

Shh. Shh.

Now look what you've done.
Takes a man to wake a baby.

Abigail!

I was wondering if you'd like
me to include your mother

in the prayers for the sick
at mass on Sunday?

Thank you.

- In we go.
- I'm in awe of your industry.

Mrs Evans is the star of
my African knitting circle.

Now... nothing awry there,

and fed an hour ago,
so it must be teeth.

I have a teething bar
somewhere in my handbag.

- He wants his mother.
- It's a girl.

- Any news from the police, Father?
- I'm afraid they left none the wiser.

Shh. I'm here.

- Who's that?
- She is my godchild.

I'll be wanting my tea.

And were you acquainted
with the dead nuns, Mr Evans?

She has a weak heart. I'll thank you
not to upset her with all this talk.

Anyway, it's their own fault.

All them chemicals left
lying around in the winery.

Didn't I say
it was an accident in waiting?

Poor woman, all that knitting.

When anyone can see she's
desperate for a child of her own.

God willing.

She'd be better off
with a willing husband.

Oh, I'm not one to gossip, Father.

Lady Felicia's cousin, Lord Compton,
had to let him go,

on account of trouble
with the housemaids.

And the scullery maids. Oh, and
the dairy maids, I shouldn't wonder.

If Mother Augustine hadn't taken
Christian pity on them,

they'd be in the workhouse.

No wonder he's lapsed.

Wouldn't dare show his face
in church again.

These thy gifts, which we are
about to receive from thy bounty,

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Aah! My compliments to the chef.

This can't go on much longer.

Let us pray that
the police find a solution.

That this was nothing
more than a tragic accident.

Of course it was. Who'd want
to kill that poor sweet girl?

Or Sister Paul.

Most of the novices.
They couldn't stand her.

She found our postulants
lacking in the humility

of their sub-continent counterparts.

I never had her down as a lush,

but it explains those wretched
pear drops she was for ever sucking on.

Now we know. It was to mask
the alcohol on her breath.

There's enough unseemly
tittle-tattle flying around

without us adding to it.

And before Calcutta,
where was Sister Paul?

Haven't a clue.

Who's there?

Sister Boniface?

Father Brown?

What are you doing here?

Same as you, I shouldn't wonder.
Have you found anything?

Sister Paul liked things spit-spot.
Military precision.

- Rather.
- Except here.

Something's out of kilter.

This is the shrine at Lourdes.
I'd know it anywhere.

But look.

"St Bridget's, Gloucester.
Christmas, 1940."

What can this mean?

The killer is trying
to cover their tracks.

Sadly, more and more parishioners
are requiring your discreet services.

I blame the war.
Not least for the Americans.

Their so-called youth culture
and devil's music.

None of that here, I assure you.

A programme of hard physical labour,

combined with reflection
and repentance.

I expect Mrs McCarthy gave you
the news from St Agnes'?

Sister Paul was Warden here
for nine years. A fine woman.

Warden? Of course.

The mothers nurse them
for six weeks.

Then the infants are removed
to good Catholic families,

and the girls released
back into society, purged.

Free from the stain of sin.

Our Lady was a single mother once.

Which is why God sent Saint Joseph
to make an honest woman of her.

These girls have no hope
of divine intervention.

I hope you're impressed
with what you've seen?

I can't lie to you, Warden.

I have yet to see a ship
more tightly run than this.

Thank you, Father.

- Warden?
- If you'd like to wait in there.

All of it?
Are you sure?

All of it.

What are you doing? I told you
not to get involved! Stay out of it!

I said to stay in the cottage.
Now go!

Skates on, Sister! Late for Vespers.

Forgive me, Lord,
I'm only borrowing it.

Oh, I'm sorry to have kept you,
Father.

Here's a familiar face.

Call on me at his earliest opportunity.
Thank you, Mrs McCarthy.

Why aren't you at Vespers?

I lost my rosary, Reverend Mother.

I, erm... think I might've
dropped it yesterday

when I was here with the police.

Bingo!

Be sure to give thanks
to St Anthony.

I thought that might be you.

I heard what Susie had planned
for your dinner,

and, well, I took the precaution.

Angel and saint rolled into one,
Mrs M.

And how did you find St Bridget's,
Father?

Truth be told, unsettling.

Oh?

Word is, Sister Thomas Aquinas
provides a fine service.

The separation of mothers
and their children defies nature.

Surely better if society found
ways of keeping them together.

Nonsense, Father.
Those girls are moral degenerates.

Unsuitable to bring up
good Catholic children.

I think it's going to be
a long night, Father.

Perhaps Joyce is right,
she misses her mother.

And Sister Boniface telephoned
with a message.

Sometimes I feel more like
the telephone exchange

than the Parish Secretary.

Now Father, have you room there
for another dumpling?

What man could resist
your dumplings, Mrs M?

Hmm...
Oh, the message, was it important?

Oh, too mysterious
to relay over the telephone.

She wants you to call in on her.

- Tonight?
- At your earliest convenience.

Ah, nothing urgent then.

Mmm...

Hello? Who's there?

Hello?

A card of black darning wool
for Sister Cyril.

Oh, and her usual denture cream.

- Morning, all.
- Morning, Father.

Sister Luke wants two bars
of Lifebuoy soap.

But only if they're on special offer.

Joyce Evans is indisposed,

so I volunteered to collect
the Sisters' shopping.

- And, erm, that's the lot, Mr Boot.
- Right you are, Mrs M.

Sister Paul won't be needing her
usual pear drops. God rest her soul.

And all on the St Agnes account.

I'll see you anon.

I'll see you at choir practice, I hope.

- Yes, at...?
- Four.

Four. Splendid.
You can count on my presence.

Good!

Father...

Turf, please.

And a quarter of pear drops.

- Off you go! Any luck?
- No, sir.

Well, get back in and look again.

- I can't find him anywhere, sir.
- Oh!

Inspector?

Will no one rid me
of this turbulent priest?

- And don't take me literally.
- Sir?

- Oh, never mind.
- Has something happened?

Sister Boniface was attacked
last night.

- Tell me she's not dead.
- Voluble as ever.

- She see her attacker?
- No.

- But I'm keen to speak to the gardener when he turns up.
- Tom...

Turns out our man
has a criminal record.

- Three counts of soliciting.
- Doesn't make him a murderer.

Makes him quite the ladies' man.

Surrounded by temptation
in a place like this.

Hmm...
That's quite a leap, Inspector.

You have a pure heart, Father.
Unlike me.

If Sister Mary Magdalene
confessed the affair to Sister Paul,

Tom would lose his job
and his livelihood.

More than a motive for double murder,
don't you think?

Unless of course
you know something I don't.

"One in particular,
who's hidden her heinous character,

"and concealed transgressions
of so serious a nature

"that I can only assume the diocese
has no knowledge of them."

It ends there.
And the photograph's gone.

I asked Sister Abelard to check
and it's vanished.

Someone from Sister Paul's past
clearly didn't want to be recognised.

Sister Paul...
All paths lead to Sister Paul.

But what about
Sister Mary Magdalene?

Pure and unworldly,
on the cusp of holy union.

In a state of spiritual grace.

In Sister Paul's office,
five minutes before she died.

Are you sure?

According to Sister Luke,
Sister Mary Magdalene took a funny turn

before the service,
low blood sugar, known fainter in mass.

Anyway, Sister Luke didn't want her
keeling over at the altar,

so she sent her off for a sit down.

And guess whose office
is right next to the chapel.

Surely it must be connected.

Of course.

That poor innocent girl.

You know something, don't you?
Of course you do.

I must go.

Good luck!

Ah, Father Brown.

It's good to have your reassuring
presence back with us.

Apologies for yesterday's absence.

Business in Gloucester.
At St Bridget's.

I hear it has an excellent reputation.

Surely you'd know so.

As you yourself were there,
when Sister Paul was Warden.

- I didn't deny it.
- You lied by omission.

The question is, why a woman
of your integrity would do such a thing?

You don't have to explain yourself.

With all due respect, Father,
you are not the police.

No...

But I believe the key to these murders
lies within the walls of St Bridget's.

If you're concealing anything,
I urge you to reveal it now.

I lied to hide my sin,
the worst sin of all.

- No!
- I'm an adulteress.

I betrayed our Lord
with a mortal man.

Years ago.
A moment of madness.

He was a doctor at St Bridget's.

He brought me no happiness,
only grief and immeasurable loss.

You confessed your sin
and made atonement.

Yes, in their mercy both God
and my superiors in the order

welcomed me back into the fold.

Then Sister Paul arrived,

all holier than thou
and righteous spirituality,

threatening to destroy you.

Someone had to stop her.

You killed her?

No!

Though I was tempted.
Horrible woman.

God rest her soul.

You stole the letter
she wrote to the Bishop?

I'm not ashamed.

You are five times the woman
she would ever be.

You shouldn't have done that.
My sin is not yours.

I'm sorry.

No, actually, I'm not.

I couldn't stand by and let her
ruin you and St Agnes with it.

I'm not worthy of your loyalty.

Fiddlesticks! You're the best
Reverend Mother we've ever had.

Don't you agree, Fa...?

- The police are looking for you, Tom.
- Why?

- Sister Boniface was attacked last night.
- I wasn't here.

- Where were you?
- None of your business.

I'm not answerable
to you or your God.

- He was with a woman.
- Be quiet.

She gives him what I don't.

So you couldn't have attacked
Sister Boniface?

I haven't attacked anyone,

and before you ask,
I didn't kill anyone neither.

I believe you.

I see a man trying
to protect his wife.

- I never go to the convent.
- No...

But you do the Sisters' shopping
in the village.

Rather dusty, I'm afraid.

I liberated them
from Sister Paul's horde.

I'm sure she wouldn't have
wanted them to go to waste.

And I am rather partial
to a pear drop.

- What game is this?
- Red or yellow?

See, I don't think it really matters.
I think they both taste the same.

No!

Yes.

Are you trying to give her
a heart attack?

Coming here with your fancy theories
and silly tricks.

What I couldn't fathom,
is why Sister Mary Magdalene?

- But she wasn't the intended victim.
- Don't listen to him.

It was a more recent arrival.
Someone from your past.

Someone from St Bridget's.

- Never heard of it.
- You're lying.

"Male baby in good health.

"Mother, J Purvis. 19 years old.

"Five foot six.
Brown hair. Blue eyes.

"Birth complications.
Postpartum cardiomyopathy."

He had a name.

- Our son had a name!
- Must've made you very angry.

Is that why you killed Sister Paul?

- No!
- Yes.

'All those chemicals
lying round the winery.

'An accident in waiting.

'All it needed was a helping hand.

'A life for a life.'

You must miss him very much.

He's here. I've seen him.

Oh, dear. I had every intention
of returning that.

- Now where's your proof?
- I don't wish to prove anything.

I want you to confess your sin
and receive God's forgiveness.

- My sin. He didn't know.
- You told him what you'd done?

And then you tried to protect her
by removing the poisoned sweets

from Sister Paul's body,
and planting the cyanide in her office.

I suppose that's where
you saw the photograph.

- I'd like to see you prove it.
- There's no escaping God's justice.

I abandoned your God when
he abandoned me and mine.

- But your wife hasn't abandoned him.
- Don't say another word.

Thomas Evans, I'd like you to accompany
me to the station for questioning.

Starting with a full and frank account
of your whereabouts last night.

I was gone all night,
and I've got an alibi to prove it.

- Save it for the station.
- Please, Father, my wife...

Blessed peace, at last.

Sweet Jesus!

Abigail!

Abigail!

Father, she's gone!

I left her for five minutes,
just to take the shopping in, and...

and when I came out,
she's disappeared.

Oh, holy God,
who'd want to take a baby?

Don't panic, Mrs McCarthy.
Listen...

Bless the Lord, Mrs McCarthy.
He gave her those lungs for a reason!

Shush. You're all right.
I'm here now...

Get away from me!

- Give that baby back right now!
- I won't let you take him!

I'll die first.
I swear I'll kill us both.

That's not your baby, Joyce.
Your baby was born at St Bridget's.

Sinners and harlots,
pray for us.

You were frightened and very alone.

What happened to your child, Joyce?

Now sign it.

My child has a father, Thomas Evans.

He's a Private in the "Glosters".

He's a prisoner of war,
who didn't see fit

to make an honest woman of you
before having his way.

- I have a right to...
- You have no rights!

Forfeited when you
succumbed to evil lust

and contravened the laws
of God and society. Now sign it!

Evil bitch!

I'll die before I sign away my child!

- You gave birth to a boy.
- His name is Daniel.

Joyce, what happened
to your child?

She stole him.

Please, no! Please, no!
Please, no!

- Take him! Get her!
- Please!

No!

Please, no!

Calm down!

Where are you taking me?
Please! No!

She locked me up with lunatics.

For my own good.
A moral degenerate.

I'm so very, very sorry.

I wanted to wait until we were married,

but he went on and on
the night before he went to war.

Said he needed something to remember
in case he didn't come back.

He did come back for you.

He made me an honest woman,
but I couldn't be a wife...

...stand his touch.

He looks just like him.

I'm not sorry I killed her.

Sweet baby Jesus.
Now she's the murderer!

She stole my baby.
A life for a life!

A life for two lives.

Sister Mary Magdalene
was someone's child too.

She was faint
from low blood sugar.

But Sister Paul was the
intended victim all along.

For that, I deserve to burn.

Will I go to hell, Father?

I wouldn't be worrying
about that just now.

Certainly not.
God is forgiving and loving.

He won't stop crying.

She's crying because
she wants her mother, Joyce.

Give her back.
There have been too many lost children.

This isn't my baby.

Forgive me!

Poor soul.

She paid a terrible price
for one act of love.

As did I.

I ask only that you will allow me
to inform the Bishop myself.

I ask only that you do no such thing.

St Agnes' Convent has been
through enough,

without losing the rock
that is its foundation.

Excuse me.

What will happen?

We're charging him
as an accessory.

As for his wife,
that's out of my jurisdiction.

You cannot blame yourself.

I thought murder was exciting.

In reality,
a tragic and sordid business.

Nothing at all like one
of Miss Christie's novels.

Father.

At least he isn't any worse the wear
for his experience.

Quite the lungs on him.

It's a... Never mind.

Abigail Mary,

I baptise thee
in the name of the Father...

...the Son...

...and the Holy Spirit!

- Amen.
- Amen.