Original subtitles

(SINGING HYMN)

SERGEANT ELLIS: There's no evidence.

There's no evidence of suicide either.

Except that he hanged himself.

He told me if he was ever going to,

he would take a sleeping powder.

-So he talked about suicide. -Oh, my gosh.

Look, Bobby, I know you're upset, we all are,

but these things happen.

Did he leave a suicide note?

Sometimes they don't, Bobby.

Look at that Savage fellow. John Savage.

Same age as Dr Thomas.

Suddenly kills himself, no one knows why.

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

(DOOR BELL CHIMES)

Lady Frances, pleasure.

You would've come for your mother's dress.

I'm told by the experts I must give you this.

There's no need for that.

If you'll excuse me.

Isn't it terrible about Dr Thomas?

Terrible.

Of course he was in the war.

Saw some awful things, I imagine.

I imagine so.

Lady Frances, we could've easily have sent this up to the house

and saved you the trouble.

Trouble is the point, I'm on probation.

Seeing as I'm here,

why don't I take Crow's uniform with me too?

Save you the trouble.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

Will you be wanting sandwiches for the train?

Yes, please Miss Roberts. That would be lovely.

Terrible business, Bobby.

I know you liked him. We all did.

Yes, thank you.

You take care of the old man for me.

If he'll let me.

-Ham and cheese? -Please.

When did you start smoking?

Yesterday.

Want one?

(SIGHS)

We can't find the leg.

Alwyn promised his leg to the hospital

and that poor fellow's trying to find out who has it.

Mmm.

(COUGHS)

You still going to London?

Yes, Father, I am.

I told him to ask the undertaker.

The funny thing is,

I can't remember if it was right or left.

(PASSENGER SNORING)

It's a first class ticket, madam.

First class is that way.

I know but we've come to fetch a friend.

Does he have a first class ticket?

I doubt it. Or why would he be in a third class compartment.

Why would you?

Worthy adversary.

I'll buy him a first class ticket.

You'll do nothing of the sort.

Ah, apparently I'll do nothing of the sort.

But we can sit here, can't we?

Well, you could, if there were seats.

Ah, right. Yes.

What if we swap these with these lovely people?

-Hold on. -Hello.

George, say "Hello".

GEORGE: Would you mind swapping?

-Of course they wouldn't mind. -I mind.

Be quiet.

Thank you so much.

I come bringing gifts.

Also, George. George, Bobby.

Gifts?

Age, colour of eyes, sign of zodiac,

of one Roger Bassington-ffrench.

-Presently residing in Maryland. -Born Staveley, Hampshire.

-Where did you get this? -Gentlemen,

you are in the presence of a Mata Hari.

I don't think you mean that.

Don't I? Oh.

You said Bassington-ffrench was looking for a house.

There are two house agents in Marchbolt,

one of whom, David something, is now madly in love with me.

We're looking at a June wedding. You're both invited.

"Why, Frankie, you're a marvel."

No, really, it was nothing.

"No, really, genius doesn't cover it."

Well, one does try.

"Also, you look deadly in that hat."

Thank you. Do you like it? It's French.

George, be a darling, go fetch our luggage.

I'm sorry about Dr Thomas.

He didn't kill himself.

Of course he didn't. Roger Bassington-ffrench did.

Just as he pushed Pritchard off that cliff,

-and we're going to prove it. -How are we going to do that?

First of all, we'll need a car.

Know anyone in that line of work?

(HORN BLOWS)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

GEORGE: Thanks very much. KNOCKER: All right.

Look around. Take your time.

No deal, Jones. Is he with her?

George is a doctor, apparently.

-And a vital part of the plan. -What plan?

By the way, I thought we agreed on Jones and Beadon.

We did.

I am absolutely livid.

-I told the bloke, you know. -Yeah.

Wouldn't bother with the Ford if I were you.

It's solid but it leaks more oil than we've ever put in.

What about the standard?

Not bad. I prefer the Triumph.

Depends what you want to use it for.

Want to crash it into a wall at 30 miles an hour.

(JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING)

Maraway Court, Southampton Road,

at the fork in the road is the gate.

Now, at the bottom of the hill, there's a left turn.

Hold on. How do you know all of this?

I went to St Swithun's.

Where they teach the layouts of Hampshire country houses?

No, it's in Hampshire, you dolt.

Three miles from Staveley. Right.

Lady Frances went driving her newly acquired standard nine,

loses control and crashes into the gates of Maraway Court.

Complete wreckage of car,

less complete wreckage of Lady Frances,

who is carried into the house with concussion.

Says who?

Dr George Arbuthnot, Cardiff Royal Infirmary,

happened to be passing by. Extraordinary piece of luck.

But you won't be concussed.

Of course she won't be concussed.

She's not in the car.

Correct, friend of Bobby's.

So who's driving?

Oh, come on, Jones, you dolt.

-The hill is driving, man. -Double correct.

I'll let the car roll and I can jump off when I get close.

That is a terrible plan.

No, no, no. You're not doing that.

-Why not? -You're just not.

I'll do it.

You can't do it because you've met Bassington-ffrench.

What if he recognised you?

You can't take that chance.

We can't take the chance of you

going under the wheels of a runaway car.

Sorry. I won't allow it.

Allow it?

Where on earth do you get off

allowing things all over the place?

Frankie you're only in this because of me.

-If something happens to you... -Kids, kids, kids.

Simple. I'll do it.

FRANKIE: George will be at the bottom of the hill.

He'll make sure no traffic comes.

He will signal to me.

Hold on, where do I get the flag?

-Don't you have a handkerchief? -Well, I can buy one.

You can buy a flag.

You can't use the flag as a handkerchief.

So George will signal to me, I will signal to Knocker.

Can you whistle?

I beg your bleeding pardon.

(WHISTLES)

KNOCKER: But you'll be nervous, don't forget dry lips.

Two handkerchiefs.

-Do you think he can do it? -I know he can.

I'm worried about you.

BOBBY: This isn't a game, Frankie.

You could be heading into the house of a killer.

How long would it take you to grow a moustache?

I don't know. Haven't tried. Couple of weeks, probably.

For God's sake. I could do it quicker than that.

Knocker, that was immense.

Anytime.

You know, we never had the talk about payments for the car.

(HISSING)

Wait a minute. We never said anything about blood.

We have to have blood.

Whose blood?

I don't know, you're the doctor.

Yes, I am, and yet oddly I appear to have travelled

to London without any blood in a bottle.

(CLEARS THROAT)

(SCOFFS)

Are you all right?

Yes, I'm all right. Does it look correct?

(ENGINE REVVING)

-Is she all right? -She's all right.

-Knocker's all right. -Good.

Help!

-Good breakfast was it? -Oh, shut up.

There's been an accident! She's dead!

There's blood everywhere! Come quick.

Please help! Somebody, quick! This way, by the gate.

What in heavens.

If someone could help me carry this lady.

She's had a huge crash! Where can we go?

She must be taken care of at once!

-Where, where, where? -Over there! Sitting room.

(ALL CLAMOURING INDISTINCTLY)

Just down here.

-Oh. -(GROANS)

Is she, uh, badly hurt?

I can't say yet.

Should I make some tea or...

-No, I'm fine. Thanks. -Oh.

We'll, um...

(SIGHS) God almighty!

-Give me that. -You were excellent!

How long do you think?

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

-I'd like to get it below 150. -Yes, all right. All right.

Sorry. Do you want a bandage?

Plaster would be nice.

She American?

-I couldn't say. -Pretty sure.

There's no sign of Roger. I wonder where he is.

Frankie, old thing,

it's not my field, obviously,

but I think the Trojan Horse works better if you're in it,

not riding it.

Thank you for all of this.

It's all right. It's quite fun in a way.

You think you're going to get in trouble,

lose your licence or something?

Probably.

Good luck, old puffin.

Be careful, won't you?

-Ah, not too bad. -(SIGHS)

But not too good either. Concussed.

Ideally, she needs to stay put for a couple of days

but I've realised that would be an inconvenience.

-No, no, not at all. -Are you sure?

I can quite easily...

-I wouldn't hear of it, please. -Well, if you insist.

Yes, here's my card in case you need me.

Dr George Arbuthnot.

Well, thank you so much, Doctor. How lucky that you were passing.

Yeah, isn't it? Yeah.

I suppose a doctor should see her tomorrow

just to make sure she's getting on all right?

Ah, I don't think there's any need for that.

Perhaps, but I'd certainly feel better.

Well, yes, um...

It seems the lady is a Christian Scientist.

She might not have anything to do with doctors.

None too pleased to find me there, let me tell you. Um, no!

If you need anything, give me a call.

Oh.

But, but, you're in Cardiff.

Yes. Better get moving.

Oh! Blast, I left my...

Will you excuse me just one moment.

Ah, here it is.

I've told them you're a Christian Scientist.

What? I don't know anything about Christian Scientists.

Well, hopefully neither do they.

Ground floor, bedroom. Thank God.

If they had said third floor,

I'd have dropped her and ran.

Was he there, Bassington-ffrench?

I didn't see him, butler and an American woman with red hair.

I left my card, which will doubtless be exhibit A. Cheers.

-Wives and sweethearts. -May they never meet.

I might stay.

We've got some rooms here, for a day or two, to be sure.

(CROWS CAWING)

(GUN FIRES)

No luggage, sir?

Can't get much on a motorcycle.

Five shilling then, in advance.

There you go.

That's our little joke.

You are in the angler's arms after all.

Walton stayed here, you know?

Went for the complete angle.

He's buried in Winchester Cathedral.

Right.

Other people have stayed here too, though, since then.

Since 1650, yes.

Now, will you take an ale?

I've got an Alderton's Superior or a Claddams if you prefer,

though I will have to change the barrel.

Yeah, I do love a Claddams.

Hello?

(SIGHS) You poor thing.

I went down to see your car, goodness.

Gosh, my car.

I can't really remember much.

Oh, I'm not surprised. You've had a terrible shock.

You just get some rest.

I'm having your luggage brought down.

-Oh, no, please. -Stay right where you are.

Thank you.

I can't really remember where that is.

Maraway Court, New Staveley.

My name is Sylvia Basington-ffrench.

Frances Derwent.

That much I remember.

Frances.

-Can I bring you anything? -Oh, no.

MAN: What the hell is going on?

Excuse me.

(SYLVIA AND MAN CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

SYLVIA: We have a guest,

she's been involved in an accident.

Please calm down.

Um, Frances, my husband Henry.

How do you do?

She's not doing well, poor thing.

Neither is my wall.

You're the driver?

Yes.

So sorry, I can't imagine what could have happened.

The doctor said she must stay here and rest.

Is Roger back? I'll need help moving that car.

I'm so sorry for all the trouble.

Oh, don't be, please. Erm, you just rest.

I'll send some food in a while.

(DOOR CLOSES)

And she went flying about ten feet into the air.

MAN 2: In that American way?

MAN 1: She might have been. She was dressed like a man.

She had like this suit and tie thing on.

We have some cold mutton if you fancy it.

Uh, no thank you.

You know, it's, er, it's just occurred to me,

a friend of mine mentioned this place two weeks ago.

-Alan Carstairs. -South African?

-That's him. -He didn't fish neither.

Odd fellow, he pushed off in the middle of the night,

-left his luggage, everything. -Huh.

Sounds like Alan, impulsive.

-I could take him his luggage. -No, I've already sent it.

Some club in London.

BEN: (IMITATING FRANCES) How can I ever repay you, Ben?

(MEN GIGGLING)

There was an accident today in Maraway Court.

Ben saved a woman's life.

That's what we're being asked to believe.

Huh.

Maraway Court is...

That's a big house in Staveley.

Well, The Grange is a really big one the other way,

but there's no one living there,

or choosing to live there, I should say, because

see, it's, erm...

-What's the word? -Loony bin!

No, Benjamin. That is not the word.

Clinic, I think they call it,

or sanitorium. Either way, it's not a happy place.

You know how I can tell when it's a full moon

even when I'm down in the cellar?

How?

I can hear them.

Well, that was delicious.

-I can't thank you enough. -Frances,

you are welcome to stay as long as you need,

or want, on one condition,

no more thanking, no more apologising.

It's going to be very difficult because I owe you...

Ah!

(LAUGHS)

(RUSTLING)

(EXCLAIMS)

It's all right. It's all right.

I'm not... I know you.

I won't hurt you. Tell me what's going on.

I want to help, I promise.

It's too late.

(ENGINE POWERING ON)

(CHURCH ORGAN PLAYING)

Well, that was just lovely.

I thought it was my son playing for a moment.

I knew for certain it wasn't Janice. (CHUCKLES)

-Where is your son now? -London.

Gone to make his fortune or lose mine.

Where in London?

Are you a friend of his?

Yes.

I'm afraid I don't know the address.

Telephone?

You know,

I think I'm going to ask you to leave.

(DOOR OPENS)

-Morning, Reverend. -Morning.

Thought I'd stop by,

let you know to keep an eye out.

Keep an eye out? For what?

We've had some bicycles go missing

the last couple of weeks.

I saw yours just now.

(EXHALES)

(DOOR OPENING)

Oh, you're up. That's good. How are you feeling?

Better, I think.

-Why was the door locked? -Oh, that was me.

I knew Roger was coming back last night,

and I didn't want him barging in here looking for a nightcap.

-And Roger is? -Henry's brother.

And then there's our son, Tommy,

who you'd meet.

In fact we're having breakfast now

if you feel up to it.

Yes, it might do me good, moving a little.

(EXPLOSION SOUNDS)

What was that?

Roger has a running feud with a flock of crows.

He lights these strings of fireworks and they go off

every half hour or so.

Murder, isn't it?

Murder of crows.

(CROWS CAWING)

(DOOR OPENS)

Good morning, all.

Ah, here she is, the barbarian at the gate.

You met Henry, and this is Tommy.

Roger Bassington-ffrench.

-With two small F's? -That's the one. Come.

Mrs Connelly's laid one of her magical treasuries.

How did you know about the small F's?

I'm American, it took me a while to get the hang of it.

I saw it on an envelope in the room.

It's unusual, isn't it?

ROGER: Try cashing a cheque. It comes up as it may. Tea?

Please.

Cash your own cheques do you, Roger?

Not if I can help it, Henry. No.

-May I call you Frances? -You may not. Frankie.

And thank you all for being so kind to me.

Frankie and Bob, yeah?

Oh, hang on a minute, what am I talking about?

Frankie and Johnny, isn't it?

(SINGING) She shot her man

Because he done her wrong

(TAPPING SOFTLY)

Please stop that infernal tapping!

(DOOR SLAMS)

Well, pursed later than usual.

Don't worry, old man. My singing was worse.

I'm afraid your husband must be furious about the damage,

I know I would be.

I promise, I'll get the car removed and organise repairs.

Nonsense. You are an invalid, also our guest.

Roger will take care of things, won't you, Roger?

(IMITATING HENRY) Cash your own cheques, do you, Roger?

Sylvia's far too polite to say it,

so allow me to apologise for my brother's oafish behaviour.

I can only promise, next time you see him

he will be in a much better mood.

Come on, Tommy dear,

let's see if we can find those boots.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(SINGING INDISTINCTLY)

So,

Frankie, tell me about yourself.

Omitting no detail, large or small.

You first.

(CHURCH BELL RINGS)

Morning, Mr Jones. Will you be taking breakfast?

Yes, first, I was wondering if I could use your telephone?

-Local? -Trunk.

Bayswater, London.

MAN: Amelia, would you call the girl while you're up?

AMELIA: I've called her twice already.

-MAN: Did she hear you? -I think she's coming.

-BOBBY: Huh? -(RECEPTIONIST MUTTERING)

Just a little bit.

Lovely.

One honey bird.

Ah!

Sorry to keep you, darling.

Bit of bother with the Old Bill.

Stupid fool, he wanted me to pay some money. (LAUGHS)

Marchbolt, in Wales?

Yes, have you heard of it? Not many people have.

Damnedest thing, I was there not long ago.

Really, why?

(EXHALES)

Long story.

I'm an invalid.

Hmm, pretty healthy looking invalid, all things considered.

(CHUCKLES)

You're right, I should, probably go and lie down.

Mmm-hmm.

Sure I can't help you with the car?

Quite sure.

Glad you're here, Frankie.

-Thank you. -For whatever reason.

(CHUCKLES)

(PERSON SOBBING AND SNIFFING)

(SOBBING CONTINUES)

Sorry, I was just...

Looking for a telephone.

I thought I should let my people know where I was.

In case they missed me.

(SOBS)

Shall I... I'm sorry.

(SOBBING)

-What's wrong? -(SOBS)

Oh!

It's all right.

(SNIFFS)

Is it Henry?

You can tell me.

Or not.

I've got a concussion

so I probably won't remember anyway.

(LAUGHS)

Yes, it's Henry.

Is he unhappy?

(SIGHS)

Oh, he's happy right now.

Blissfully happy, I imagine.

My husband is addicted to morphia.

A package delivered twice a week.

At this moment, Henry is lying on the floor of his study

with a hypodermic needle in his arm.

(SOBS)

(SOBS) I'm sorry.

-It's all right. -(SNIFFS)

(ROGER SINGING INDISTINCTLY)

(SNIFFLING)

(HORN BEEPING)

(ENGINE RECEDING)

(ROTARY PHONE DIALLING)

(PHONE RINGING)

MAN: Beadon and Jones fine automobiles.

Knocker, has Frankie called?

She has not, old son.

I thought you were with her?

No, she's in that house with Bassington-ffrench.

Listen, if she calls, tell her I'm at The Anglers Arms.

-It's half... -I know where it is.

You want my opinion, that girl can handle herself.

Just make sure you get the money for the Carina.

Speaking of which, hands on deck.

We've got a customer.

Can I help you, sir?

I am looking for Bobby Jones.

Oh, not at his post, I'm afraid.

-However, as senior partner... -Where is Bobby Jones?

I just told you, he's not here. And that's all you need to know.

You are Beadon?

That's right, Ralph Andrew Beadon.

Midshipman.

QB-91758.

And you play the church organ...

Bad, is what the Reverend told me.

Not that it makes a difference.

Bloody hate churches.

Baptised in one, I never went back.

You are a friend of Bobby Jones?

No, I'm not.

A friend is someone you drink with.

Play darts. I got plenty of those.

Whereas, Bobby...

It's funny. He seems like a mild chap.

But mild chaps don't jump into the North Atlantic

in the middle of winter.

Pitch black, thirty-foot swell.

That is a shipmate.

Go on, on your way.

(PHONE RINGING)

Beadon and Jones fine automobiles.

Knocker, it's Frankie. Is Bobby there?

He's in Staveley, half a mile up the road.

-What's he doing there? -Looking out for you.

Got a soft heart, that boy.

Soft-headed, more like.

He's supposed to be in London so he can drive the car down.

What car? Listen...

(CHOKING AND GASPING)

Knocker?

Knocker? Hello?

(GRUNTS)

(KNOCKER GRUNTS AND GROANS)

(KNOCKER GRUNTING)

-Knocker? -Is everything all right?

Yes, I was just arranging for a car to come down.

You have another car?

Not really, the Lagonda belongs to my father.

Lagonda? Oof! Tommy's gonna love that.

Well, I'll gladly take him for a spin.

-(SCOFFS) Me first. -All right.

And we can talk about your brother.

(SIGHS)

-(KNOCKER GROANS) -Are you all right, sir?

KNOCKER: Nice cab. (SIGHS)

It seemed to me, and I know I have no right to say this,

but she needed to tell someone.

No, you're right.

This has been hell for them.

When I'm away she has no family here, no friends.

She has me.

(CHUCKLES)

What are you like when you're not concussed?

It's all arranged. I spoke to Moira.

Good for you, Sylv.

Does Henry know?

No, he won't care. It's nothing official.

He'll come to lunch tomorrow and Dr Nicholson will

simply observe.

Who's Dr Nicholson?

He runs The Grange, about half a mile from here.

They specialise in mental disorders.

Addictions, that sort of thing.

They're neighbours so we see them now and then.

No reason for Henry to suspect that he's...

My brother is ill, Frankie.

He needs treatment.

According to some, Dr Nicholson's

the best there is.

There is a young lady to see you, Mr Jones.

-Hello. -I can't stay here very long.

All right.

You said you could help me.

Yes. I mean, I'll try. Are you safe now?

How did you get out?

-Get out? -You're from The Grange?

Yes.

Well, I've seen it. It's a fortress.

I didn't imagine they allowed patients to come and go.

I'm not a patient!

My name is Moira Nicholson.

My husband is the institute director.

Well, what were you doing at Maraway Court?

James is a very brilliant man.

A genius, I'm told.

He won a prize last year in Rome

for his work in electroconvulsive therapy.

I don't know what that is.

The induction of seizures by means of

sinusoidal waveform therapy

in the treatment of mental disorders.

He made me learn that to stop people asking questions.

I imagine that works.

One of his patients,

William, was a fireman.

He also set fires.

It's not uncommon, apparently, for people to spend their lives

fighting the thing they secretly love.

And you think your husband is fighting madness?

They don't use that word at The Grange.

But James has used it about me.

You don't strike me as mad.

How do I strike you?

-Moira. -(HORN BEEPING)

(HORN BEEPING)

Will you wait here for a moment?

Does, uh, the name Alan Carstairs

mean anything to you?

South African, maybe?

(HORN BEEPING)

Bobby Jones, well met.

Lady Frances instructed me to deliver the Lagonda

into your care.

Where have you come from?

I was told you'd be in London.

I met Mr Beadon instead.

Took him to Charing Cross Hospital.

Hospital, why?

(ENGINE ROARING)

Oh, for crying out loud!

What happened to Knocker, is he okay?

An angry customer is all I can think.

He was badly beaten.

Oh, my God! Right, uh,

I need to go. Charing Cross.

Mr Beadon said that might be your reaction.

He also said if you abandon your watch,

he'll personally knock your teeth out.

I simply passed the message on.

Also, Lady Frances asked me to give you this.

Train from Staveley in one hour.

Good luck to you, Bobby Jones.

(LOUD MUSIC PLAYING)

Excellent. Join us, Miss Derwent.

Have a drink, will you?

Henry, she's convalescing.

And we will make a convalescent luminescent, effervescent...

I can't think of any others.

-SYLVIA: Iridescent. -Bingo!

Whatever it is, it shall contain gin.

-(BOTH CHUCKLE) -Ginescent.

Gosh, I shouldn't.

It's very simple.

Do what I do, just before I do it.

You dance very well.

You lie very well. What's your secret?

I didn't have a secret

Want to borrow one of mine?

My wife wants to put me away.

In the nuthouse.

To give me convulsions.

They used to use Metrosol, now it's electric shocks.

(PHONE RINGING)

Ask me how they got the idea.

From pigs, slaughtering them.

The electric shocks make them numb,

so they're easier to kill.

Clever, isn't it? (LAUGHING)

(LAUGHING MANIACALLY)

Frankie, telephone.

(LAUGHING)

Says his name's Steve.

HENRY: Think I'll have another. Oh, dear.

Hello.

(HENRY LAUGHING)

Are you all right?

Yes, thank you, Steve.

-Is the car near? -The car's fine, are you?

Are you safe?

-As far as I can tell. -Sylv.

Sounds like Frankie's making a run for it.

Head her off, will you?

-Who's that? Is that him? -Yes, Steve, that's correct.

Frankie, you're not leaving? The doctor said you had to stay.

I can be there in two minutes.

Steve, can you tell me the condition of the car?

Did you have any luck finding out

what the problem was?

The dead man's name is Alan Carstairs, South African.

He was here in Staveley two weeks ago.

Also, the Caymans are up at The Grange.

Something really odd is going on here, Frankie.

I think you need to get out while you still can.

If you don't say no, I'll be there.

No. I will call you if I need you.

Good night.

-Frank... -(DIAL TONE SOUNDS)

(OBJECTS CRASHING)

HENRY: I am not a bloody child.

(SHOUTS) I'm all right.

(BIRDS CAWING)

Goodness, don't you look dashing.

Where'd you go to school, Tommy?

-Mitcham. -Mitcham?

I went to St Swithun's.

We used to dance against Mitcham.

Oh, you're up. Good.

We didn't want to leave without telling you.

Um, come along, Tommy dear, go get your cap, please.

-Leave? -Church.

It's early but the vicar has another service in Winchester.

Um, will you be all right?

Why don't I come with you? You know...

(SPEAKS FRENCH)

But you're a Christian Scientist.

Was it the shoes?

Uh, no, um, the doctor said.

Said that I'm a Christian Scientist? Yes,

which I absolutely am.

I just thought after last night I should be with you.

Oh, that is so sweet.

(HORN BEEPING)

Thank you, my dear.

I'm fine.

We shan't be long. Tommy.

You're a bad woman, Derwent.

FRANCES: Good morning, Steve.

Good morning, your Ladyship. You all right?

-Yes, you? -Fine.

Chauffeurs don't ring the bell, by the way.

What do they do?

I don't know, just appear.

Oh, right. I'll try that, then.

(HUMMING)

(DOOR OPENS)

Hello, sir. I'm Steve,

I have come to deliver...

News.

Thank you.

BOBBY: We've got Roger, suspect number one.

Tommy, who we think is in the clear, being seven.

Sylvia, who's married to Henry.

Henry, the drug addict.

You know, I really don't think Roger is number one.

Why not?

Mmm, don't know, it just seems so unlikely. A man like that.

A man like what?

It's hard to explain, but he doesn't seem the type.

What type are we expecting exactly?

A one eyed hunchback with foot long fingernails?

He is rather handsome.

Oh, he's handsome. Oh, well then.

You should see him with Tommy. It is very sweet.

Frankie, what has that got to do with anything?

Carstairs might have thought he was sweet

before he was pushed off a cliff.

-We don't know he was pushed. -You were the one who...

Look, Dr Thomas did not hang himself.

We know that much.

Yes, but that has nothing to do with Roger.

He wasn't in Marchbolt then.

I mean, he says he wasn't.

Sylvia said it too.

It was on the 18th and he was here doing tricks

at Tommy's birthday party.

Hmm, funny voices and impressions

which he's, actually, very good at.

Oh.

Roger's in the clear, I'm afraid.

Look, I'm not saying there's not something going on here.

I'm just much more curious about this Nicholson character.

What makes you say that?

The morphia.

Isn't it so odd that someone would try and poison you

and then it shows up here?

How many people have access to a drug like that?

It gets odder still.

Because last night I met the woman in the photograph.

-The Cayman broad? -No, the real woman.

In the real photograph.

The one I've been dreaming about.

Her name is Moira Nicholson. And her husband...

Is Dr Nicholson.

And according to Moira,

Dr Nicholson is a very dangerous man.

And you believe her?

Yes, I believe her.

She pretty?

-She's frightened. -Oh.

She's pretty frightened.

She's very frightened.

And irrelevantly pretty.

What if we're in the wrong house?

Maybe I should have crashed into The Grange.

Well, whichever house you crashed into,

we still don't know who Evans is.

We don't know who they are,

what didn't they ask him, and why.

Are they all out, at the moment?

What do you mean, dreaming about?

Can we just...

(WHISPERING) Sylvia and Henry's.

Tommy.

See, does this really look like the room of a killer?

How would I know?

Oh, God.

Mustard-yellow waistcoat. Now anything's possible.

Well, I'll be damned. A four-bed house in Marchbolt.

That's the Willoughby's. How much are they asking?

(LOUD MUSIC PLAYING)

Stay here.

(MUSIC STOPS ABRUPTLY)

(DOOR OPENS)

There was a... I had a car.

(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

(MAN WHISTLING)

Tommy, come and look at this.

That is an...

Thank you.

It's the Nicholsons, darling, they've come for lunch.

(HENRY GROANS)

Tommy.

Would you like to drive her? (CHUCKLES)

Just lunch, Henry, it's just lunch.

That is an absolute beaut.

Bet you get some pace out of that thing, huh?

FRANKIE: Roger, where are you going?

ROGER: Trying to get some church stuff,

-why, is everything all right? -Yes.

Oh, there you go.

FRANCES: Roger,

why don't I take you for a spin now?

Supposed to rain later and it's much more fun when it's dry.

Hang on a minute.

(SIGHS) Come on. Better be quick.

Good Lord, where did he come from?

You know chauffeurs, they just appear.

Good man.

Roger.

(SIGHS)

(SIGHS)

Frankie, I'd like you to meet Moira Nicholson.

And this is Dr Nicholson.

How do you do? I've heard lots about you.

-And I, you. -FRANKIE: Really? I doubt that.

You'd be surprised.

Your accident caused quite a stir in the village.

Well, you know, that's how I like my villages.

Perhaps, because it was not an accident.

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)