Original subtitles

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess

"with hair as golden as the sun.

"Her father told her if she was virtuous and pure,

"then one day she would marry a handsome prince."

Right!

Ah, before we get to business, felicitations are in order

to our chairman, Aubrey Frobisher, and his new bride, Bunny,

on their recent...well, dare I say, whirlwind nuptials.

HE CHUCKLES, SHE GIGGLES

I managed to persuade her to join our humble troupe.

She was an actress, you know.

Yeah, well, I gave up treading the boards when I met Aubrey.

We just couldn't stand to be apart.

Theatre's loss was our gain.

Oh, sweet man!

I would be happy to add a touch of professional stardust

into your little pantomime.

HE CLEARS THROAT Er, well, um...

Four weeks to our opening night on 23rd of December,

so we have got our work cut out.

First and foremost, the appointment of a director.

AUBREY:Ah, now, although this is a break from tradition,

I would like to propose the appointment of a guest director.

Now, you may know that Jonas Blake has recently

taken up residence in Great Slaughter.

He was writing nearby and came to see Aubrey

for some investment advice.

Who is Jonas Blake?

BUNNY MURMURS

Well, only the hottest playwright in town.

He penned Sir Laurence Olivier's new hit play

at the National Theatre.

Yeah, a splendid chap, despite being an Australian.

He's keen to get involved in the community.

When he heard about the pantomime, he offered to sharpen our script

and offered his services as director.

Well, I rather think I've proved MY director's mettle

in my - in the critics' words -

"triumphant rendering of Three Men In A Boat."

Robbie.

Er... A-A directorial feat.

Well, undoubtedly a triumph, Samira.

But this is enormous.

Audiences and critics will flock to see

Jonas Blake's first foray as a director.

In which case, as one of our most esteemed actresses,

shouldn't you be in the spotlight, not behind it?

He hinted...

..that Laurence Olivier...

..is going to attend our last night. GASPS, MURMURS

That would show Deirdre Glenister!

TOM SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY

Indeed!

What do the statutes say, Dotty?

Um...

Clause 18, subsection 5 -

"The exclusions allow participation of nonmembers

"if the appointment is ratified by a vote."

TAPPING All those in favour.

The eyes of the world will soon be upon us.

This must be GSADS' biggest and best performance yet.

AUBREY CHUCKLES Yes.

Hear, hear.

CAWING

NUNS:# O come, O come, Emmanuel

# And ransom captive Israel

# That mourns in lonely exile here

# Until the Son of God appear. #

This year's panto cast needs swelling.

Oh. And my little birdie tells me

that you have a fine singing voice, WPC Button.

I mean, perhaps you could be our Cinderella.

Go on, then, sir.

I suppose every girl dreams of playing Cinderell-er!

Livingstone. Gillespie.

Acting's not really my bag, sir.

No, the GSADS are not for me, sir.

Oh. Sir, I will say I am quite intrigued by this pantomime.

So...the principal boy's played by a girl?Mm-hm.

And then the dame is a man?

And the audience spend the entire performance heckling the actors?

Ah...

My error, in giving the impression that that was a request.

I want you both washed and brushed and ready to audition at 3pm sharp,

and that is an order.

FELIX SIGHS

SAM SIGHS

It still looks a few pounds short of a Christmas feast.

Dare we say, a little on the scrawny side?

She won't like that.

Here! Watch who you're calling scrawny.

He's well muscled. In't you, Terry?

Oh! The Sunday School Medley are auditioning for the pantomime

this afternoon, so I need volunteers to chaperone.

Sunday School Medley.

Sister Reginald, you are excused.

Your time would be better used fattening that bird,

or there'll be no second helpings for anyone.

Cushty.

Which leaves you two. Mm?

BOTH:Yes, Reverend Mother.

I wish I'd been in a pantomime.

I see no reason why not.

You were raised in the Australian outback.

Son of a sheep farmer.

And Jonas Blake is a nom de plume? A stage name.

I started out as an actor,

and Dwayne Baker from Kookaburra Gull didn't quite have the ring.

Why did you give up acting?

I was terrible at it.

Fortunately, I discovered I was better at writing lines

than chewing them.

Tell us how the angry man of Melbourne

has come to be directing a provincial pantomime.

I'm writing a companion piece to my Tony Award-winning Rift

entitled Nadir, and I hope to direct it.

It's a chance to flex my directorial muscles.

I promise you a pantomime like no other.

Thank you for your time, Mr Blake.

You have an interesting face.

Innocent, yet full of angst.

Are you trying your luck today?

Copy to fill, deadlines to meet.

Hi, Peggy.Hello, Norman.

It is a lot of time

locked up in close proximity in a small group for weeks on end.

It can get emotionally...

WHISPERS:..intense.

Sister Boniface, Sister Peter, make sure the children behave themselves.

CHILDREN SQUEAL

Oh, right.

Children!

Settle down. Children, please!

Charlotte, do not eat that. Put it down.

No, not THERE!

No hair-pulling, Clive!

Or throttling! Kevin!

Stop! Police!

Any more of this,

and I could have you arrested for breach of the peace.

Hands on heads.

Form a line.

BELL CHIMES All yours, Sister.

God bless you.

This way, children.

Miraculous timing.

They are quite a handful.

Are you here on police business?

If auditioning for CC Lowsley counts.

But we're only signing on for walk-ons.

On the brighter side, we could expand our social circles.

I don't want to.

Nonsense. We've come too far to give up now.

This is Wilf Wilson, who would like to sign up.

I hardly think that's appropriate.

He's an altar boy at St Vincent's.

And if High Mass isn't drama, I don't know what is.

I can concur with that.

Well, I wonder what the staff at Grimley Chase would feel

about one of their patients gallivanting off at all times.

I've spoken to the warden, who agrees that Wilf can be trusted

to get himself to and from rehearsals.

Reverend Mother lent me a bicycle.

Hmm.

That may be...

WHISPERS:..but I don't think the audience would like to see

someone like him onstage.

Actually, we do have a vacancy

for assistant props master.

How does that sound? It sounds important.

Oh, yes, it is. Very.

Well, shall I put you down?Please.

Excellent.

Come on. Let's go.

"The princess grew up virtuous and pure,

"and one day she met a handsome prince.

"He said he loved her and gave her a golden egg.

"But the handsome prince turned into a frog."

My love?

Have you...

..thought about Jonas' proposal for his new play?

Oh, I prefer to risk my money on something less fickle

than theatre audiences.

HE HICCUPS Oh, Aubrey Bear...

Ooh!

As his investors,

think of all the people we'll meet,

and all the parties. You could show me off to the world.

Well, I think I'd rather keep you for myself!

Oh!

Woof, woof!

Meow!

Miranda!

Must you always creep up on us like that?

You're late.Jim's lame.

I had to put a poultice on.You spend too much time at the stables

when you should be out meeting people.

Yeah, a few new clothes and some decent make-up

wouldn't go amiss either.So I can snag myself a rich husband?

That's enough, Miranda.

I have said that you'll help backstage at the pantomime.

No, thanks.

Er, as long as you're under my roof,

you'll do as you're told, young lady. Is that understood?

Oh, honey bunny. Come here.

Peggy Button made a charming Cinderella.

Mm. I mean, can you believe that Bunny Frobisher

had the audacity to audition?

Cinderella is an innocent young maiden,

and she's...neither.

As for actress, no-one seems to know what she was in.

Gwen Pike had it from Doris Pound that she played bit parts

in a Shoreditch variety theatre.

Mm. Aubrey Frobisher will rue the day, you mark my words.

I... SHE GASPS

Has the cat got your tongue?

She's got...

..an eye!

CAT MEOWS

Oh, dear.

Is that it? The Great Slaughter wreath thief?

How many have been stolen?

Um, well, two so far.

One being Miss Thimble's, who may well have mislaid it.

Oyez! Oyez!

Casting is announced!

Ha-ha! Well done, everybody.

Oh, and, um, special congratulations to you, Mr Whalley,

for bagging Buttons.I'm Buttons? Mm-hm.

Peggy Buttons,

looks like we may be spending a lot more time together!

I wouldn't count on it.

I'm Buxom Wench 3. Crowd rehearsals only.

Bunny Frobisher is your Cinderella.

Frightening woman in the furs?

Our director wants to add more...

..maturity to the role.

Hey, well, at least I'm not Horstensia.

Hmm? Who's Horstensia?

You are.

And so are you, Inspector Gillespie.

Well, splendid stuff.

Oh, and don't forget - costume fittings this afternoon.

What's wrong? BELL DINGS

Hello? Excuse me. Emergency.

We wish to report a mutilation.

Any thoughts, Sister?

Well, it's definitely human.

Lack of decomposition suggests it was removed recently.

Claw and beak marks indicate by a bird.

Medium-sized scavenger, so possibly a crow.

Who then dropped it for Tibbles to find.

There are signs of active bleeding.

Which means?

The victim was alive when the eye was removed.

Excellent news, Sister.

Obviously not for the victim.

TOM SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY

How's that feeling, Tom?

TOM SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY

Bill!

Could we add a little extra padding...

..downstairs?OK.

Mr Frobisher! You must be Miranda.

I've assigned you as props mistress.

Oh, and this is Wilf.

Your assistant props master.

Well, I'll just let you get on with it.

Hello.

Hello.

Are you sure this was a good idea?

It's bad enough at home, with her looming like a black cloud.

I did warn you she was difficult. But don't worry, my darling,

I'll do something about her, I promise.

As long as we're rid of her.Mm.

Oh! Cheeky! HE CHORTLES

I'm...I'm sorry.

My family didn't want me either.

You don't know anything about me.

Please, just keep your nose out of my business.

We've been checking missing persons,

and we think we need to mount a search.

But it's taking a lot of time, so I'm afraid we're going

to have to bow out of the pantomime. Hang on, hang on.

The eye was pecked out by a bird, you say?

So that gives us a search radius of...

Well, literally as far as the crow flies.

Well, that's an impossible task.

See if Sister Boniface can narrow it down a bit.

Yes, sir.Yes, sir.

And in the meantime, I think police resources

would be better utilised elsewhere.

Giddy up!

Can someone show me to my dressing room?

We're a democratic troupe.

The artistes all muck in together in the green room.

Mr Blake, can you spare a moment?

Anything for my leading lady.

This leading lady doesn't have a dressing room,

and I need privacy to hone my performance.

Well, we wouldn't want you unprepared.

I'm sure, um...

Vera. ..Vera can sort something out.

I'm sorry I was so filthy.

I was seething, but I didn't mean to take it out on you.

It's OK.

What did you mean when you said your parents didn't want you?

I was a...

..deviant.

So they sent me to the orphanage.

And I'm grown up now.

I live at Grimley Chase.

The asylum?

Do you like it?

HE SIGHS

Everyone's old, and they're all poorly.

I don't have any friends.

Neither do I.

Girls my age are only interested in boys,

whereas I prefer horses.

I could be your friend.

I love animals,

and I promise I won't talk about boys.

It's a deal.

Why do I have to be the back?

Because the senior officer always leads from the front.

My family better not find out about this.

"The princess returned to her father's castle,

"but he was angry his daughter had married a frog

"and so cast her out into the winter snow,

"where she would freeze, and her eyes pecked out by crows."

Hmm. Intriguing.

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you, one and all,

for sharing my vision -

to reenvisage the genre by returning to Aschenputtel,

the Brothers Grimm original.

After all, real fairy tales don't have happy endings.

This isn't what I asked for at all. This won't do.

My proscenium has been much admired.

Red, green, blue, yellow.

It's all so...primary. Ugh.

Whereas I see monochrome.

Light and dark, representing the battle

between good and evil and, in between, every shade of grey.

Ha! Genius.

Very Gormenghast.Yes.Excellent.

Who?This will be a pantomime like no other.

Together, we will make history.

Hear, hear!

APPLAUSE

I have no idea what he's talking about.

That makes two of us, Dotty.

Are you sure you're feeding him properly?

Yes.

Best quality cornmeal,

mixed with oats, because he's a bit of a feather plucker,

and raisins. Very fond of his raisins.

Then, why isn't he getting any bigger?I wondered that.

Perhaps there's something wrong with him.

What, like bird virus?

Maybe to play on the safe side,

we should get a turkey from Ted Button this year.

We took vows of chastity, obedience and poverty.

When God gave Abraham the ram in the burning bush,

did he say, "No, thank you, Lord,

"I'll get a bigger one from the butcher"?

Double his rations.

Right you are.

CC Lowsley insists we narrow the area before we mount a search.

Yes, I thought he might. Can you do that?

Negative. Any forensic evidence was removed

when Mrs Clam put the eyeball in a jar of pickling vinegar.

So we're stumped, then? No. On the contrary.

The eye has its window to the body as well as the soul.

I'm currently building up a medical profile of the victim

which may help us identify him. From a pickled eyeball?

Well, Horatio Nelson and I have been spending quite some time together.

Yes. Although there is a 50% chance they're a Horatia.

And what have they told you about themselves?

Well, they're aged 70 to 80, judging by the stage of a cataract.

The pterygium growth suggests they spent a lot of time outside.

They're diabetic and they needed glasses

for long sight and astigmatism.

So we're looking for an elderly person

that likes the outdoors and wears glasses.

Well, that's half of Great Slaughter, Sister.

If I can measure the focal distance of the lens,

then I can mock up the prescription

and see if the optician recognises it.

Excellent work, Sister.

And sooner rather than later.

For all we know, the victim could still be alive.

Woohoo!Cooee!

Step-Papa!

Je suis revenu!

Vulgaria! Dyspepsia!

How was your trip to Paris?

Absolument fantastique...

Oh, Paris!

We saw it all.

Christine Die-or, Channel,

Yves Saint Laur-ent... That awful tower!

That wasn't the Eiffel Tower you saw.

That was your ugly mush in the mirror.

FAKE LAUGHTER

Can we speed it up, please, Buttons?

And maybe a tad less of the grimacing.

This thing's heavier than it looks.

Positions! Pick up from Hardup, "What's that?"Er, yes.

What's that? The rest of their shopping!

We ran out of suitcases, so we had to buy a wardrobe.

Girls, you're bankrupting me!

I might have to...get a job!

My grandfather always used to say, as one door closes, another opens.

Lovely man, terrible carpenter.

BANGS WARDROBE

THUD!

SHE SCREAMS

Cause of death appears to be a stab wound to the heart.

Serrated edges suggest a jagged blade

approximately two inches in diameter.

Query some kind of hunting knife.

Redness and irritation around the mouth

and the rope marks to his wrists

suggest that he was chloroformed and tied up before being stabbed.

This wasn't in the heat of the moment.

Rigor mortis has set in.

Seems he's been dead for at least six to eight hours.

What was Aubrey doing here well before rehearsals?

Perhaps this has something to do with it.

Look, the last entry in his notebook.

Henson, CFYC, Wheels.

Hmm.

OK, let's make a search for the knife and take statements

from everyone that was here.

I'll see if his wife or daughter can shed some light on this.

His daughter went home in shock.

I'm not sure Mrs Frobisher is fit for interview.

Well, we'll check back in with them in the morning, shall we?

I said I wasn't to be disturbed. Police are here, ma'am.

Oh, I was just looking for photographs.

We were only married a few short weeks and I have so few memories.

How did you and your husband meet?

At a restaurant in London.

A widow and a widower, dining alone

and somehow we got talking.

After my husband died,

I never thought I'd find love again.

And then this wonderful man swept me off my feet and...

I'm sorry. We were so happy. I'm sorry.

SHE SOBS

Thank you.

When was the last time you saw your husband?Um...

Around midday yesterday.

He was supposed to be taking me out for lunch,

but he had to dash off for a meeting with Samira Rowbotham.

He was a frightful grump.

And that was the last time I ever saw him.

My poor Aubrey.

Who would do this to him?

Did your husband have any enemies?

Other than the obvious.

He was sending her away, you know?

SHE CLICKS TONGUE Here, boy!

I need someone to fetch my wrap from my dressing room.

Can you manage that?

His name's Wilf.

He's not here to fetch and carry for the likes of you.

Miranda, show some respect to your stepmother.

For what?

Being a mutton dressed as a lamb gold-digger?

HE SPLUTTERS How dare you?!

You are a rude, insolent brat,

who thankfully, I won't have to put up with for much longer.

Are you going to tell her, Aubrey? Or am I?

We've decided it's time you were independent.

You have a place at secretarial college in Edinburgh

starting in the New Year. No, I don't want to go.

It's time you made your own way in the world.

What about Jim?Well, I'm sure we'll find a good buyer for him.

You can't do this. Please, I'm begging you...

It's my final decision.

And remember, Miranda,

you brought this on yourself.

SHE TUTS

There's something not right about that girl.

I haven't seen her shed a single tear.

One more thing. Um...

Do the words "Henson, CFYC, Wheels" mean anything to you?

I'm afraid not.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I, um...

..I have a meeting to get ready for.

Ruby will see you out.

Bone dry.

His daughter isn't the only one who hasn't shed a single tear.

Gentlemen.

HORSE WHINNIES I think Jim likes me.

Horses are great judges of character.

Better than humans.

Will you stay with Jim now?

I expect so.

This was my mother's home and now it's mine.

Maybe I'll start a livery stable.

That way I can spend all day with horses.

You could even help out if you like.

Do you really mean that?

Of course I do.

Will you ask your stepmother too?

Don't even joke about it.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Miss Frobisher?

I'm paying my condolences.

That's very considerate of you, Wilf.

Do you mind if we have a private word with Miranda?

Why don't you have a go?

Long, slow strokes.

We're sorry for your loss. And rest assured,

we're doing everything we can to find out who did this.

Thank you.

Were you and your father close?

He went out of his way to avoid me

because he thought I killed my mother.

She died giving birth and I was a constant reminder.

Can you tell us where you were yesterday between 1pm and 4pm?

Riding.

I took Jim out on a hack.

Can anyone verify this?

You think I killed him?

N-n... I-It's just we understand

that your father had...asked you to leave home...

I hated him.

And he wasn't much of a father...

..but he's the only family I had.

And if you're looking for someone with motive, try his merry widow.

I'm sure he's left her well provided for.

Thank you, Miss Frobisher.

We'll be in touch if there's anything else.

Good day to you, Mr Simpson.

I seek assistance tracking down a missing person

aged over 70 with astigmatism in at least one eye

and hypermetropia.

I took the liberty of calculating a prescription.

Sphere -1.75, cylinder -50, axis 70.

Robbie!

Here, Robbie!

The Glenisters are building a conservatory.

Expect an invitation from them so they can show it off.

We'll never hear the end of it.

Do you know, I was thinking...

..maybe it's time we enlarged OUR backside.

Yes, dear. The police are here. Do you want me to stay?

There's no need, Mr Rowbotham.

We're just trying to trace the last movements of Aubrey Frobisher.

Better get off to work, Robbie.

Excuse me.

Thank you for lunch, dear.

Very nice.

'Bye.

We understand that you met with Aubrey yesterday morning.

PANTs!

I...beg your pardon?

Pantomime Artists No...Trust...s.

It's, um, a GSADS charity.

All the money from the pantomime ticket sales

goes towards local worthy causes.

I see.

And what was the reason for the meeting?

Well, I'm treasurer of GSADS and Aubrey is..

..was chairman.

Why are you asking?

It's just his wife mentioned he was a bit on edge beforehand.

SHE SCOFFS LIGHTLY Being married to a woman like that

would keep any man on edge.

If you must know,

it was merely a routine meeting to go through the accounts.

I take it they're all in order?

Impertinent.

I have an excellent head for figures.

Then you'll have no objection to us taking a look.

Be my guest.

ROBBIE:Mr Frobisher's existing will,

leaving his whole estate to his daughter,

was nullified on his remarriage.

Accordingly, he was in the process of drawing up a new one,

leaving generous provision for his wife,

while his daughter would receive the house

and the rest of the estate.

I believe he discussed this with you?

He may have mentioned it, but I had no interest.

We'd just got married, I didn't want to think about him dying.

Mm.

Well, I'm afraid...

..he was yet to sign it.

Which means he died intestate.

Without a will.

What does that mean?

In such cases,

the bulk of the estate passes to the surviving spouse.

But that's not fair. It's the law, I'm afraid.

Of course, given your father's wishes,

I'm sure Mrs Frobisher would want to do the right thing.

Of course.

Bunny Frobisher, the grieving widow, twice over.

Let's find out what happened to husband number one

and get a copy of Aubrey Frobisher's will.

Let's see what she stood to inherit.

Miranda Frobisher, the ungrieving daughter.

And she was furious that her father remarried.

Also, he was sending her away.

Samira Rowbotham.

She had a routine meeting about the charity accounts.

But we know it was last-minute,

because Aubrey Frobisher had to cancel his lunch with his wife.

Horatio Nelson has a name.

Silas Kaleb, age 72.

Oh, uh, and an address.

About eight miles east of Little Williamscot.

According to the optician, Silas Kaleb was a known recluse.

He only came into town for food and supplies.

Which would explain why no-one reported him missing.

No obvious wounds to the body

or ligature marks.

And as he was still alive when the eye was removed,

I'd say for now, the most likely cause was hypothermia.

Could you help me move him, please? Just pop him there.

Could he have taken ill and collapsed out here?

But why was he outside without a coat on and slippers on his feet?

Well, judging by these splinters of wood,

I conjecture he was incapacitated inside,

then dragged out here and left to freeze to death.

This was murder.

Right, according to his family tree, his wife died in 1946.

They had one child,

although I can't see the name, it's been struck out.

It must have been quite some estrangement.Mm.

An elderly recluse living alone, seemingly nothing to steal.

Why would anyone want to murder him?

Or send him a Christmas card?

A hand-painted one at that.

The Little Match Girl.

"Season's greetings and a happy ever after."

Tragic as it is, the audience is king.

So we're all in agreement?

We can't let our public down.

Colin could step up as narrator.

Poor Bunny Frobisher can hardly continue.

So we're a Cinderella short, as well!

I cast my vote for Peggy Button.

Her audition was delightful!

Second that!I third it!

No-one was asking you. What does our director think?

Mm... She could add a certain rustic charm.

All those in favour?

My dear lady, we weren't expecting you.

Our sincere condolences.

And I can't let you down.

The show must go on.

It's what Aubrey would have wanted.

I've brought you a present! SHE GASPS DRAMATICALLY

A winter strawberry!

My favourite! And I'm so hungry.

How can I ever thank you, Buttons?

How about a kiss?Oh!

SEDUCTIVELY:But I've never kissed a boy before.

It's easy.

Close your eyes

and pretend you're blowing out a candle.

And Buttons goes in for the kiss.

This side of Christmas would be nice.

HE SNEEZES Oh!

I can't work with this Pinocchio.

Take a few minutes. We'll pick this up later and, um...

..perhaps we can work around that kiss.

We have to make allowances for grief.

At the same time, let's unearth some of that raw, unrequited passion.

You...you fantasise about deflowering this young maiden.

HUSHED:It might help if she was young and maidenly.

Moving on to the glass slipper scene.

Did you all get your revised script?

TOM GRUMBLES INDISTINCTLY

Yes, er, I think what Tom is trying to say is...

..do we really want the ugly sisters dismembering their toes

to fit into the crystal slipper?

All I've done is return to the Brothers Grimm source material.

What about the kiddies? They'll lap it up!

Children love to watch bad people get their just deserts.

Children aren't nearly as innocent as they'd like us to think.

Then we are agreed. Where are props?

We need to talk shears, sausages and fake blood.

Does nobody have anything to say about this?!

Oh, you can't have a revolution without spinning the wheel.

TOM MUTTERS INDISTINCTLY

I share your sentiments, Tom.

Though possibly not the choice of words.

WHISPERS:I can't bear this subterfuge.

How much longer before we announce ourselves to the world?

Perhaps longer than a day after your bereavement.

I can't spend much more time in this godforsaken backwater.

Nor will you.

I've put the feelers out to Larry and he's keen.

With him as our lead, we can't fail.

I'm more than just a chequebook, you know.

Have you thought about a leading lady?

The...final decision rests with Larry,

but once he's seen you.

Mm.Mm...

Goodbye, my Cinderella.

Oh, dear.

A fox, we assume?Yeah.

Devious little beggars. Must have dug in under the wire.

There goes our Christmas dinner.

If it is God's will we go without, then so be it.

Perhaps Sister Lawrence can rustle up a mock goose.

It was all very well in the war.

And we've plenty of potatoes.

We need to talk.

About you leaving.

This is my home. It's my home now.

And I'm selling it and moving back to London.

You know, my father wanted it to be mine.

Of course he would have wanted me to make provisions for you.

You will receive an annual allowance of �250.

Obviously, you'll have to support yourself as well.

Where will I go?

I suggest you take that place up at secretarial college.

You evil old witch!

The words you are looking for are "thank you".

I'm not obliged to give you anything,

especially after your behaviour toward me.

I know you killed him.

Did you kill your last husband too?

SHE SCOFFS

I won't lower myself by responding to that.

You have until the New Year.

So if I were you, I'd start making plans.

Enjoy your breakfast.

A known recluse with no family or friends,

except for this estranged child.

Let's start by trying to find them.

Is it too much to hope that you've got anything on Aubrey Frobisher?

I took a look at the figures and we are talking a substantial amount.

Last year's takings were over �2,000.

Anything suspicious? No, the figures all add up,

but I did figure out one thing.

So, all of the charities, CFYC, Henson and Wheels,

they're all supported by PANTs.

I'm going to look at the addresses and follow up.

BREATHLESS:Morning.

There's someone you may want to add to that board.

I'd hardly call it an affair.

So what would you call it?

Une badinage du theatre.

The flame burns bright for as long as the rum before...

..turning to embers at the final curtain call.

And how long was this... "bonne diege" going on for?

Just a few weeks.

What can I say? She showed willing and I was weak.

Coincidentally, her new husband was a wealthy man.

And you're starting a new show, I believe.

Mea culpa. I must confess to using this provincial opportunity

to attempt to undo Aubrey's purse strings.

Can you tell me where you were on Tuesday between one and four?

Pounding the keys and praying for the inspiration of Thoth.

I hope I'm not a suspect.

Did Aubrey find out about the affair?

Perhaps there was a fight and...

..you stabbed him.

I admit to being a philanderer,

but I'm also a gentleman.

If Aubrey had found out,

I'd have taken a punch on the nose as his cuckold's prerogative.

The suggestion I'd stab him is, frankly, insulting.

We'll let you know if there's anything else.

Thank you for your time. And for yours.

I'll be seeing you at the full props rehearsal tonight.

And I do hope you're off book.

Or should that be, on the hoof?

"The princess made her way to the frog prince's kingdom.

"But the king and queen didn't want it known that their son was a frog."

MUSIC PLAYS

Stop, stop, stop!

This is torture.

An assault on the senses.

What do you think you're doing?

I expect they've been rather busy investigating the brutal murder

of our chairman.

They just need a little more rehearsal time, that's all.

Who is Horstensia?

Why does she dance while Cinderella weeps?

What is this about?

She's a pantomime horse.

She'll go to the knacker's yard and be turned into glue

before the start of act one. Offstage!

Thank you for your contributions.

You're no longer needed.

Fine by us. You can't get rid of Hortensia!

Cinderella will wear a vial of glue around her neck

as a reminder of her loss.

So, what do we all think?

GASPING

Oh, for goodness' sake, Samira, spit it out!

Shall I get your medication?

CHOKING

I'm afraid it's too late.

Do we have an exact time of death?

Half nine.

Yet rigor mortis has already set in, which is unusual,

as is the opisthotonus...

..the rigid extensions of her limbs.

And there are traces of cyanosis to the face.

So she didn't die from a heart attack?

I conjecture some sort of fast-acting poison.

Oh, dear.Sister?

It transpires we have some sort of serial murderer on our hands.

So the question is...who's next?

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