Original subtitles

(SINISTER MUSIC PLAYING)

(GRUNTING)

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

ROGER: Tell us, Dr Nicholson, what makes you think

that Frankie isn't here by accident?

It's very simple. The car belonging to the doctor.

-What about it -According to young Benjamin,

the doctor's car was facing up the hill toward Staverley.

And yet Benjamin swears

that the car didn't pass him on the road.

Now, if this doctor witnessed the accident,

as he told Sylvia, he must've been driving

in the other direction.

Do you remember a car passing you?

Oh, the poor thing was barely conscious.

Then, this doctor, whoever he was,

must have stopped and turned his car around

before coming to your assistance.

It's odd. Don't you think?

Hmm. I suppose it is.

So odd that it made me wonder if he was prepared in some way.

Prepared for

an accident?

That is my point.

I can think of several explanations.

Maybe he was driving in the other direction

ahead of Benjamin and then stopped for a nap

or a quick pee.

Or maybe he got lost

and turned his car before Frankie did her number.

Do any of those strike you as more probable?

Certainly not less. But then,

I'm not a scientist.

Roger, could you pass the bread?

(CHUCKLES)

Oh, Sylv, we'll make an Englishman of you yet.

Here we go.

What is it that you do, Roger? I'm not sure you ever told me.

Looking forward to this.

I enjoy myself, James. Someone around here has to.

(MELANCHOLIC MUSIC PLAYING)

(ROGER SIGHS)

So, Moira, it must be fascinating

being married to a man of such renown.

Is that what it is, Moira? Fascinating?

And you live above the shop, I gather.

That must be very interesting.

I don't have much to do with the institute.

James prefers me to stay on the private side of the house.

Gosh, I couldn't bear that. Much too nosy.

Well, he's worried about my safety.

You see, some of the patients can be quite erratic.

Dangerous, you mean?

Schizophrenics, in particular, become quite agitated

at this time of the month.

Full moon.

-(HOWLING) -Roger.

Excuse me. (SIGHS)

We must be gripping company.

Tommy, I have some good news, though.

Ms Derwent's taking us for a spin.

Ma says I have to stay in and do my Bassington this afternoon.

Oh, that's too bad. It's French. Irregular verbs.

Just me and you then.

You didn't tell me you're a chauffeur.

-I'm not. -What does that mean?

You're in disguise?

A spy?

And Ms Derwent is the one you're looking out for.

Who does she need protecting from?

-(GUNSHOT) -(CROWS CAWING)

-Crow scarer. -(SCOFFS) Me scarer.

Unlike them, I cannot just fly away.

Who do you need protecting from?

I believe my husband is going to kill me.

Why would he do that?

Because he is in love with Sylvia.

BOBBY: But Sylvia is married to Henry.

MOIRA: For how much longer do you think?

Bet he becomes a patient.

Leave him.

And go where, Mr Jones?

Do what?

I have nothing.

No, I had one chance and I didn't take it.

What do you mean, one chance?

I'm afraid I lied to you.

I did know Alan Carstairs,

rather well.

He was a protector.

Like you.

-SYLVIA: Thank you, James. -Not at all. He'll be fine.

You didn't talk to him now.

I think I might wait until the music changes.

It won't be long.

-Can you start the car, Steve? -Ma'am.

-Not taking him, are we? -No, he's taking us.

What? Come off it.

Fourth place in the Stanford cup at Brooklands.

Don't you trust me?

Hop it, Steve. Ms Connelly will find you a sandwich.

Your Ladyship,

-I strongly recommend... -Thank you, Steve.

Now, do you like fast,

or very fast?

Ms Connelly. I'm Steve.

Bessie, slice of that lemon cake.

-No, no. That's all right. -For me?

You can have a biscuit if you like.

Thank you. Just a glass of water.

Have you worked here long?

Started at 14.

So, ten years then.

(CHUCKLES)

(ENGINE ROARING)

Do you think Henry will be all right at The Grange?

Dr Nicholson seems...

"What is it that you do, Roger? Not sure you ever told me".

Personally,

I think he's a quack, a pompous one at that,

but, I don't suppose he can do much harm.

Really? I think he could do rather a lot.

(SCOFFS)

Oh, really?

You know this road well?

Hmm. Not particularly.

(ENGINE REVVING)

(TYRES SCREECH)

Of course he was right about the accident, wasn't he?

Now, I thought that was impressive.

How did you do it? Crash the car without killing yourself?

'Course I got that before, but through a different reason.

What on earth are you talking about?

That sticky plaster on your forehead, Frankie,

it's changed sides.

No, it hasn't.

(CHUCKLING)

No, it hasn't. You had to check, though, didn't you?

Can I see the wound?

I mean, someone should have a look, shouldn't they?

My. Hasn't that healed up well.

Hmm?

Hmm.

(GRUNTS)

(CHUCKLES)

(EXHALES SHARPLY)

All right. All right!

I'll tell you how I crashed the car.

First, you need to tell me something.

I don't, actually, but go on.

Alan Carstairs.

The photograph you took from his pocket.

Hang on a minute. Have we skipped a page?

Alan Carstairs.

No. Don't know who that is.

Come on, Roger, you were in Marchbolt,

on the golf course, when a man went over the cliff.

His name was Alan Carstairs.

You stayed with his body and you found a photograph in his pocket

and you substituted it with another.

A photograph of Moira Nicholson.

How did you... (CHUCKLES)

-This is extraordinary. -Isn't it?

Make it less so.

All right.

Firstly, I did not substitute the photograph,

I picked one up. It fell out of his pocket

while they were strapping him to a ladder.

-What did you do with it? -I tore it up.

Why?

Well... (SIGHS)

put yourself in my shoes.

A man's lying dead on a beach,

a photograph of a woman I know

and happen to rather like, is in his pocket.

Who knows why?

It's nobody's business but his and hers.

But by God, the newspapers

would have made it everybody's business.

Moira would have been publicly shamed,

kicked out of that nut farm up the road.

Not a bad thing, in my view, but a bad way of doing it.

Moira ought to be able to leave as she pleases,

not as the fucking Daily Mail pleases.

Excuse my language.

It's all right. I've heard the words "Daily Mail" before.

How do you explain the photograph of Mrs Cayman?

Mrs who? I don't...

Honestly, Frankie, I've never heard of these people.

I tried to spare a friend some difficulty, that's all.

I'm sure you would have done the same thing.

We thought you pushed Carstairs off the cliff.

What? (CHUCKLES)

Frankie, have you lost your mind?

Why on earth would I push someone off a cliff?

I went for a walk, I found a body. I wish I hadn't, but...

Wait a minute. I didn't find him.

There was another chap there, er, a golfer.

Maybe he put the photograph there.

-Or maybe this fellow Carsho... -Carstairs.

Maybe he had two photographs.

He had two photographs.

Who's "we," by the way?

"We thought you'd pushed him".

My organisation.

Almost.

But let's try and write to out

with the circumflex standing in for the missings, remember.

BOBBY: Where did you get this from, Tommy?

Mr Savage gave it to me.

-Mr who? -John Savage.

He visited in the spring. Took a shine to Tommy.

Is that the same Mr Savage who's been in all the newspapers?

He owns 26 ships.

That's a lot of ships.

What was he doing here?

("OVERTURE 12" PLAYING)

Oh, good. Bessie's just brought some tea.

Did Roger drive much too fast? He usually does.

Not at all. I had to tell him to put his foot down.

-Have you spoken to Henry? -SYLVIA: Uh, not yet.

I spoke to Dr Nicholson, though.

You like him, don't you?

Oh, boy. (SIGHS)

I don't know, like, I'm, um, grateful...

to him and to you.

-How are you, Sylv? Bearing up? -SYLVIA: I was saying to Frankie

I couldn't have dealt with this on my own.

And I was saying she absolutely could.

Well, I'd like to think of myself as indispensable always,

but, uh, Frankie's right...

some of the time.

Dr Nicholson can't just take Henry, can he?

I mean, if Henry doesn't want to go.

No, he can't. At least not when I'm around.

Agreed, Sylvia?

-(GUNSHOT) -(CROWS CAWING)

(GRIM MUSIC PLAYING)

JAMES: Sylvia.

Henry! Henry!

Sylvia, what is it? What's happened?

Henry!

Roger!

Henry!

Henry! Henry!

Stand back. Close your eyes.

-(ROGER GROANS) -(SCREAMING)

Roger, take care of Sylvia. Come on.

-(CRYING) -ROGER: Don't look.

Don't look. Don't look.

JAMES: Oh, no.

No, no, no, this is terrible.

We should telephone the police.

And be sure not to touch anything.

Key's not in the lock.

Must be in his pocket.

FRANKIE: "If only there had been a wind

"and a chance of meeting the amazons,

"he would never have had to go by himself

"to give Captain Flint his message

"and the thing would never have happened.

"But the big hills up at the lake

"helped to make him feel that the houseboat man

"did not matter.

"The hills had been there before Captain Flint.

"They would be there forever.

"That, somehow, was comforting".

(BELL RINGING)

That was impressive.

Famished. Didn't seem quite appropriate

scarfing down kedgeree at the house. Suicide and all.

-You sure that's what it was? -Kedgeree.

-Suicide. -Seems pretty water-tight.

I was in the garden with Roger when we heard the shot go off.

The study door was locked from the inside.

The window you broke was obviously locked.

Dr Nicholson did have the key.

No, he found the key in Henry's pocket.

And for my next trick,

I'm going to rescue Moira Nicholson from The Grange.

(SIGHS) Lord, I'd forgotten about her.

But of course you hadn't.

She told me that Dr Nicholson would try to kill her,

and Henry.

Well, one down, one to go.

Do you not think you're being a little dramatic? Or she is?

Poor me. I need to be rescued.

Is that worse than...

I'm just too handsome to kill people?

But he didn't, Bobby.

Roger's just as confused as us.

Because it didn't occur to us

that there might be two photographs.

No? Still mourning over Bo-Peep.

Right. Can you magic up another coin?

-What for? -Telephone call.

Then Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came.

How much for two breakfasts?

Well, yes, half a crown in total.

Is that Alan Carstairs?

Yeah. And Mr Savage.

Now, he was a fine fisherman.

And a very generous man.

Yes. Of course, he was a millionaire.

A very generous millionaire.

-Goodbye, Mr Askew. -All right.

Good God. How do you live in a place like this?

How do you escape a place like this?

Think I should come in with you.

I mean, what would a chauffeur do?

I think Steve would have a nose around,

see what he could find.

(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYIMG)

Hello. I've come to see Mrs Nicholson.

(DOG BARKING)

One moment.

(DISTANT SCREAMING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

JAMES: I hope you haven't brought bad news about Sylvia.

How is she?

-Still asleep when I left. -JAMES: Good.

Her own doctor will be attending of course,

but I advised three days of sedation, at least.

But how can I be of assistance to you, Lady Frances?

You can't. Sorry.

I explained to the gentleman I was here to see your wife.

JAMES: Moira.

Well, that is kind of you.

I've decided to go on an expedition today.

Obviously I don't want to be a burden at Merroway

at a time like this, so,

thought she might like to come with me.

Well, as I say, that is very kind of you.

I'm sure she would have enjoyed that very much.

"Would have".

Unfortunately, my wife went away this morning.

Where to?

London, I imagine.

Shops, or a theatre.

This can be rather a gloomy place

for a young woman,

and Moira sometimes likes to take a break.

That is funny, I was planning on going to London myself.

Where does she stay when she's there?

The Savoy, usually.

The Savoy. Right.

Or Brown's. Or the Grosvenor.

Or sometimes The Langham.

Righty-o. I'll try those then.

I wish you luck.

And once again, so very kind of you

to think of her, Lady Frances.

By the way, how'd you know it is Lady Frances?

I mean it is, technically, but I don't tend to tell people that.

Do you know, I'm not sure.

Perhaps I saw you in the society pages.

Really? You don't seem the type

to bother with that sort of thing.

I shall take that as a compliment.

(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)

(HONKS)

(GASPS) Oh, God!

FRANKIE: What's wrong?

(BOBBY CLEARS THROAT)

What's wrong? You look puzzled.

I'm pretending to look puzzled.

Wires are off the magneto.

I don't know what that means. That it's fallen off?

Twin magnetos, both the wires have been cut.

Ah!

So that's how it is.

I'd say that's a 3-iron for your game.

For what?

♪♪ I've got a friend in Baltimore

♪♪ Little Liza Jane

♪♪ Streetcars running by her door

♪♪ Little Liza Jane

♪♪ Oh, little Liza Little Liza Jane

♪♪ Oh, little Liza Little Liza Jane

♪♪ Oh, little Liza Little Liza Jane

♪♪ Oh, little Liza Little Liza Jane ♪♪

Well, that's all set. How goes it below stairs?

-We'll find out in a minute. -Hmm.

Want me to, uh, hold a thing while you twist another thing?

That's all right. Thank you.

Do you have a will, Bobby Jones?

-A will? -Hmm.

Why would I? Don't have anything to leave.

I'm going to change mine.

I hereby revoke any and all prior wills.

Okay.

Just thinking about Henry

and who stood to gain from his death.

Sylvia, Tommy, local cat home.

To be honest, I'm more concerned about Moira.

Of course you are.

Frankie,

he could have her locked in a basement

for all we know.

I say we phone the police

and have them kick the door down.

I don't think so.

If she was there against her will,

I don't know, Nicholson just seemed

too confident for all of that.

So she's either away or...

Dead.

I didn't say that.

Thought it, but I didn't say it.

(ENGINE REVVING)

Ah, such a clever chauffeur.

Well, I endeavour to give satisfaction.

("MIDNIGHT, THE STARS AND YOU" PLAYING)

FRANKIE: I'm so sorry for you all.

Yeah, he's not an easy man to love, Henry, but, um, this.

Bobby, come meet Roger.

Thought his name was Steve.

Man of moods.

I see. He's a member of your organisation, is he?

He is the organisation.

Wait a minute. The golfer.

Caddy. But yes,

I was the one who found Alan Carstairs

and then left you alone with him.

Right. Which is when I'm supposed to have

-switched the photographs. -Yes.

We made a mistake,

and we're sorry, aren't we, Bobby?

Hmm, I see.

Well, thank you, for all your help with, uh, you know...

Perhaps we'll meet at a christening one of these days.

Yes, all right, all right.

(FRANKIE SCOFFS)

Wait a minute.

-I know him. -FRANKIE: Yes. From The Grange.

No, he was in Marchbolt, at the inquest.

What?

He was at The Grange too.

He was the goon who opened the door.

Think those magnetos will get us to London?

They'll get you to London.

I have to stay here.

Can I give you an assignment?

-MAN: Your uncle? -FRANKIE: Yes.

-MAN: And he's a member? -FRANKIE: Exactly.

We're a military family, you see.

One of my ancestors fought at Battle of Naseby.

-MAN: Really? -Mmm.

On which side?

I... My mother's, I think.

Anyway, dear old uncle Alan

was holed up in The Angler's Arms in Staverley.

Do you know it? Gosh, you must.

But he had to leave unexpectedly,

so the landlord, a prince of a man,

sent his luggage here.

(VOICE SHAKING) Sorry.

It's just, dear uncle Alan has been

so good to me over the years, I just can't

bear the idea of letting him down.

If you just give me a moment.

(ENGINE WHIRRING)

(ENGINE REVVING)

"Found true love".

"Rose Templeton has no interest in money".

Oh, me, oh, my!

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Anglers Arms.

WOMAN (ON PHONE): Good evening. Is Bobby Jones there?

No he's not here, madam, which is concerning.

-Why? -(MAN ON PHONE LAUGHS) Why?

'Cause he's had a top of rum,

a sirloin steak,

and ain't paid for neither.

I see.

- So... -Thank you.

(GRUNTS)

(DOGS BARKING)

Here.

What's this?

(LAUGHTER AND INDISTINCT CHATTER)

WAITER: This way, Madam.

Lady Frances.

What a delight!

I'm so sorry I'm late, Mr Bragge.

No, I should be sorry for not accommodating you sooner.

But the court hearing was set.

I know it was short notice.

-Champagne. -Oh!

Champagne, please, and oysters.

Certainly, madam. How many would you like?

Seven.

Can't bare even numbers. Never taste right.

That is priceless. Thank you.

Mr Bragge, I want to ask your advice about a will.

-Oh! -No, no, not mine.

Oh, good.

No, this is about a John Savage.

(DOOR CREAKS)

While on-board, it seems Mr Savage made the acquaintance

of a fellow passenger, Mrs Rose Templeton

and the two of them became... affectionate.

This is where the story becomes a little unusual.

Mr Savage, a man of apparently good health

became convinced that he was dying.

Cancer.

Shown at the autopsy to be absent from his body

and somehow infected his mind.

He died in early June, if I recall,

by his own hand.

How did he do it?

Overdose of chloral hydrate according to the autopsy.

The question then arose concerning his will,

which Mr Savage redrew only days before his death.

What was in the will?

To Mrs Rose Templeton,

the sum of £140,000.

But Mrs Templeton had got her hooks in.

Well, I wouldn't put it quite that way, but...

well, yes, perhaps I would.

And where is she now?

(LAUGHTER)

(FOREBODING MUSIC PLAYING)

And no one contested it.

Well, Mr Savage had no living relatives

and by all accounts, very few friends.

Well, he had one.

-Oh, look, it's him. -(LAUGHS)

Bobby, the sailor.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Oh, he's struggling.

He fights like a dragon.

Boyo. good you came here.

How do you do?

RECEPTIONIST (ON PHONE): Good evening, Reception.

Hello, this is Derwent in room...

it's... it's green.

Can you bring my car around, please?

Okay, Ma'am.

(EXHALES)

(MELANCHOLY MUSIC PLAYING)

MAN: Frankie, in here.

(MUFFLED SCREAMING)

(GROANS)

(HUMMING)

FRANKIE: Well, this is a pickle.

Just a bit.

FRANKIE: You're just going to sit there.

BOBBY: Yes, I thought I'd just sit here

and, you know, obey the laws of physics.

FRANKIE: Me too.

-Do you mind if I'm sick? -Help yourself.

(FRANKIE VOMITS, COUGHS)

Just out of interest

why I'm in here and not

"Watch out for the gorilla with the chloroform".

BOBBY: That was a gorilla pretending to be me.

The Grange is full of gorillas, apparently.

I don't think we're on The Grange.

We're in Chipping somewhere. Somerton.

Why are we here?

I don't know. You're the one who told me to come.

That wasn't me.

-That was a gorilla... -Pretending to be you. Right?

BOBBY: Mm-hmm.

Bobby.

Is it all right to be afraid?

Yes.

FRANKIE: So this Templeton came on board,

somehow got Savage to change his will

two days before he died.

Then she and her husband

pushed off to France with their winnings,

leaving this place empty.

Except they didn't.

I saw Amelia Cayman last night.

Both the Caymans are still here.

Why?

They had the money, Savage was dead and buried.

What reason could they possibly have for coming back?

Why didn't they ask Evans?

Is still so dangerous to them that they had to come back,

-repair the damage... -(BOBBY CHUCKLES)

and cover their tracks... what?

(LAUGHING) Because they actually thought

that we might understand it.

(BOTH LAUGH)

Yes.

Had they realised (CHUCKLES) how thick we are,

they probably would have left us alone.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

(DOOR OPENS, CREAKS)

MAN: Read this aloud.

I, Robert Sidney Jones,

hereby grant Dr James Nicholson full authority to conduct...

experimental neurosurgical procedures upon my person.

MAN: So, has anyone explained what's going to happen to you.

I think I could take a guess.

MAN: Really?

I'd be interested.

FRANKIE: There's not going to be metrazole, is it?

It's too old hat.

It will be electric shocks, like what they used on pigs.

So, instead you zap me with 50,000 volts

until I can't remember my own name

or your name, more to the point.

Except you don't need 50,000 volts with brains like ours.

-Five ought to do it. -(CHUCKLES)

(FRANKIE CHUCKLES)

More than enough. One of those potato batteries.

(FRANKIE CHUCKLES)

MAN: Well, it's good to see you're taking it so well.

Commendable.

But who am I going to commend you to.

FRANKIE: Plenty of people.

Mr Bragge of Bragge, Bragge and Ferndale for one.

I told him about John Savage and Alan Carstairs

and Mrs Rose Templeton.

And Dr Thomas.

And of course, Evans.

Really?

FRANKIE: Really.

I told him who Evans was,

what you didn't ask him, and why he was fascinated.

A good bluff, Ms Derwent,

but I call it.

What have you done with Moira?

MAN: Don't worry about Moira.

In fact you don't have to worry.

You are dismissed...

Bobby Jones.

(DOOR CLOSES)

What a pill.

Bobby.

Nicholson, pill, second emotion.

That wasn't Nicholson.

What do you mean Nicholson wasn't Nicholson,

he was standing right there.

That was Roger Bassington-ffrench.

-But Bobby, his voice. -It was Roger's voice.

He got you in here pretending to be me,

and then he tried to frighten us pretending to be Nicholson.

But that wasn't him.

My God, Bobby, he called me Ms Derwent.

-I think that was Roger. -That's...

That's what I'm saying.

It doesn't help us much though, does it?

No.

What are you thinking?

About us.

And Marchbolt on that cliff edge...

talking about last words.

No questions, agreed?

A statement.

FRANKIE: Definitely a statement.

You first.

Frankie, for as long as I've known you...

(GLASS SHATTERS)

MAN: Bloody hell!!

-Knocker! -Knocker, is that you?

-(SIGHS) -(DOOR OPENS)

Knocker? Knocker!

(KINFE CLICKS)

That's my knife all of a sudden.

Bobby, did you give me a knife.

I tell you what...

You give me my knife back and I'll give you this.

-(GRUNTS) -(FRANKIE WHIMPERS)

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

(BOTH GRUNT)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

Come on.

-(KNOCKER SCREAMS) -Knocker!

(BOTH GRUNTING AND GROANING)

(BOTH GRUNT, BREATHE HEAVILY)

(EXHALES SHARPLY)

Knocker.

(EXHALES HEAVILY)

All right. Easy, Knocker.

-(FRANKIE SIGHS) -Yeah.

So it was you following me undercover.

Your man told me to look out for you.

(BOTH SIGH)

Right. So...

The Bragges checked the will with Elford

and it was all properly notarized.

And witnessed by one Alfred Mere, the gardener

and Elizabeth Chudleigh, the cook.

We can't talk to Mere because he's dead.

Hold on. One of the witnesses is dead?

Yes, but he was 89, so, I think we can let that one go.

But Ms Chudleigh lives not far from here.

So, shave on.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

-Mrs Chudleigh. -Pratt.

-Oh. -Chudleigh is my maiden name.

-I'm Mrs Pratt now. -How lovely!

Bobby, did you hear that?

Congratulations.

All the more reason for cake.

We were wondering if you remember anything about

that poor gentleman who died

while you were working at the Mill House?

Left her a lot of money, they say.

Not that we saw any of it.

-Sorry, who's we? -Me and Gladys, the parlourmaid

and Alfred, though he won't need it now.

Rest in peace.

That's shocking,

isn't it, Bobby, that

Mrs Templeton didn't do the right thing.

We were curious about Mr Savage. What was he like?

Couldn't say.

But he visited the Mill House often, didn't he?

Gladys would know better.

I was only there a month.

But you signed Mr Savage's will.

You watched Mr Savage and then signed as witness, didn't you?

The lawyer said it was all right.

Of course, Mr Elford,

and he asked you to sign the will, didn't he?

Mrs Templeton...

she told me to go up to the bedroom,

then she went out to fetch Alfred.

The next morning he was stiff as a board.

Gladys phoned in, poor thing.

She had the shock of her life.

FRANKIE: Thank you, Mr Bragge, for everything.

Oysters are in the post.

(INDISTINCT ON PHONE)

Goodbye.

So Knocker's a free man. No charges.

They've just asked him to stay in the county for 24 hours.

(BOBBY SIGHS)

What did you think?

Does anything strike you as odd?

I mean, it's all odd, but her story tallies.

Except maybe one thing, I don't know.

What's that?

I just don't understand why they went to fetch the gardener

when the parlourmaid and the cook were in the house.

So?

So why didn't they ask the parlourmaid.

It's funny you should say that.

Because I stayed behind to ask Mrs Pratt

for the maid's name and address.

The parlourmaid's name was Evans.

You've just asked the same question

that Alan Carstairs asked on the beach.

Why didn't they ask Evans?

There's no address for a Gladys Evans,

but apparently she worked in a pub called The Swan.

KNOCKER: Bonny and Clyde.

(CHUCKLES, GROANS)

Mind the shoulder.

How much do you want for it?

Not for sale. I'm in love.

No, Knocker, I'm buying it from you

and giving it back to you.

No arguments.

I already got me the brief.

Mr Bragge is on the payroll.

Also...

(WHISPERS INDISTINCTLY)

You're all right, Lady Derwent.

You too, my chirping Beadon.

Gladys Evans got married too, and move back to Wales.

She's Gladys Roberts now.

The Vicarage, Marchbolt.

Bobby, that's your Mrs Roberts.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(BOBBY SIGHS)

Right. There's one more stop at Wrexham

and then home straight.

WOMAN: The maid is the only one who knows what's going on.

Frankie.

She's done it.

What? Who has?

My ridiculous off-the-pavement mother

has actually cracked the case.

I lost this club, see,

and my mother absolutely popped a vein and shouted at me.

The only person in the house who knows what's going on

is the maid.

-I don't see... -She's right, darn it.

The cook is in the kitchen, the gardener's in the garden,

who is the only person who sees people in the house every day

and knows all of their faces.

-The parlourmaid. -The parlourmaid?

Gladys Evans was the only one of the three who could have known

that the man signing John Savage's will...

Was not John Savage.

(CHORAL SINGING)

That's Moira. That's Moira.

Frankie, stop the car.

Moira. Moira.

What are you doing here?

Oh.

MOIRA: I need to talk to you about some things.

-Give me a minute. -Okay. Alright.

She needs help and she needs to talk.

I booked a train to London, you see, to get away

and I realised

as I was getting off the train there was someone following me.

-What someone? -I don't know.

I could just feel they meant me harm.

I checked into a hotel.

Not my usual hotel, a cheaper hotel because

-I don't have... -Yes, yes, all right. And...

BOBBY: Frankie.

I just want her to get to the point.

-Oh, my gosh, he's here. -Who?

-Do you see him? -Who, for crying out loud?

-Roger Bassington-ffrench. -Roger Bass...

Why? Why is he in Marchbolt?

I thought he was here for me and then I realised

he was here for someone else.

BOBBY: Who?

It's all so confusing.

It's all right, take your time.

Start from the beginning.

Who do you think he's here for?

Frankie.

Frankie, what are you doing?

What am I doing, Moira?

I'm sorry, wrong name.

What am I doing, Mrs Templeton?

Or may I call you Rose?

I saw your face just then.

You've put something in our tea, haven't you?

We'll find out what it is when I send that

to George Arbuthnot.

But my guess is chloral hydrate.

What do you think?

You arrogant, entitled little bitch.

I'm literally entitled,

but I think arrogant bitch is more your house.

Bobby, Gladys.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(STRUGGLED GRUNTING)

Help!

-(GRUNTING) -Help!

(POT SHATTERS)

(GASPS)

That's good on you, then.

Thank you, Nathaniel.

Yes, a bit of a character, old Moira.

Bad lot as they say, or used to say about me.

But, uh...

(CLICKS TONGUE)

What can a man do if not obey his nature?

Whose idea was it, John Savage?

No, that was Moira.

She met him on a boat from New York, made a play.

She fooled him, I fooled everyone else.

She talked him into his own death, more or less.

ROGER: I signed the will and no one was any the wiser.

Alfred.

She has an instinct, Moira.

A lot of people think villains have a plan,

but they often don't.

They're opportunists,

improvisers.

Moira... is pure jazz.

Did you kill Alan Carstairs?

No.

Moira found this fellow, a Mr Angel.

Dutchman, I think.

Picked him up along with the Caymans in Epsom racecourse,

cut them in for a slice.

And Dr Thomas.

ROGER: Well, that was Moira's idea.

Said he was getting a little chatty,

gave the order to Mr Angel.

What about Henry?

And it came to pass when they were in the field,

that Cane rose up against Abel...

and slew him.

(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

Henry and I hated each other from birth.

Plenty of times, he might have killed me

if he'd had the nerve.

But he did have the house...

and the estate

and all the money he hadn't injected into himself.

All wasted on misery.

And I made that place a lot more fun.

I had it all planned out months before,

but I knew Sylvia wouldn't do as a witness.

People might think we had something going on.

But once you got there.

But we were in the garden.

Oh, that's just a question of timing really.

The shot you heard was a crow scarer.

I hid it in the chimney

months before waiting for my chance.

Derwent and Nicholson.

Yeah, clean as a whistle.

Dull as a whistle too, but, uh, he means well.

The only mistake we made... was you two.

Nathaniel, old boy.

So are you two are gonna to get married?

-You should. -Take that back.

We're not getting married because he says so.

(DOOR UNLOCKS)

(CHUCKLES)

What is this?

It's a washer from a magneto housing.

Thought it might do for now.

(ORGAN PLAYING)

(WEDDING MUSIC PLAYING)

(CHORAL SINGING)