All language subtitles for Randall & Hopkirk Deceased s01e14 Who Killed Cock Robin.eng

- Mr. Laverick?
- Delighted to meet you, Mr. Randall.

You've been quite highly recommended
to us. Quite highly.

Oh. Who by?

Do you like birds, Mr. Randall?

When I can find the time.

You'll have all the time you require,
suitably reimbursed.

Um... these birds, you represent them?

In a manner of speaking, yes.

Apart from your normal role as
investigator, I want you to act as...

guardian, yes... guardian.

When you say birds, exactly
what kind of birds do you mean?

In fact, there are several kinds -

the speckle-billed bird of paradise,
for one, 33 all together.

And you want me to stand guard?

Precisely, Mr. Randall.

You see, someone
is trying to kill them.

Do you know why?

It is not for me
to presume the motive.

All I can tell you is
that the birds in question

form part of the estate
of the late Mrs. Wentworth Howe.

They're rare and most valuable.

And under the terms of her will,
the birds must be protected.

I'm listening, do go on.

The estate is to be held in trust
while the birds exist,

then it is to be divided
amongst her surviving relatives.

Ah. Now I see.
Someone's becoming impatient.

Well, the birds are expected to live
for at least 20 years.

The estate, is it worth much?

A little over two million.

- Two million?!
- A little over.

Mrs. Wentworth Howe
was rather eccentric,

yet her wishes must be carried out.

The killer must be found.

Oh... the detective.

I am Mrs. Howe...

and this is my husband.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

Colonel Chalmers.

And Sandra Joyce,
a rather distant cousin.

Not too distant, I hope.

I'm just here for the weekend,
looking over the place.

- There's no need for impertinence.
- I was only being realistic.

After all,
our little feathered friends

are quite capable
of outliving all of you.

Are you a bird fancier, Mr. Randall?

- From a very early age.
- Marvellous.

We must exchange notes sometime.

Mr. Randall, I think I should make it
quite clear to you

that our family are totally opposed.

He was Mrs. Wentworth Howe's lawyer
and he is trustee of the estate.

With Beeches, the gamekeeper.

He spends most of his time
in the aviary.

When he's not listening in.

You'd better come in.

Beeches! How dare you!

Outrageous! No manners at all!

I warned you about this...
this snooping, yesterday.

For two pins,
I'd kick you out of the place.

Not while those birds
are still flying.

You... you impudent... you...!

Now, Colonel, no need to make a fuss,
it's a harmless conversation.

Ah, but we might have been
planning a massacre.

Sandra! Go to your room!

Well, I think I will.
Perhaps I can see you all at dinner.

- Everything OK in the aviary?
- Yes, sir.

Good. I'll take a look around later.

Stay there!

- What are you doing?
- Checking the scene of the crime.

These birds must be psychic -
what a row!

- They don't like your vibrations.
- What?

Shut up!

Uncanny!

Oh, I don't know. I do have
a certain spiritual influence.

I'm the one. I did it.

- What's the score?
- It's straightforward.

The relatives suddenly become much
richer if your friends get the chop.

So, what should I do?

Look in all the rooms,
especially Mrs. Howe's.

Where will I find you?

I'll be unpacking,
then I have to make an investigation

into a particular bird specie -

the tawny-haired, hazel-eyed,
pink-cheeked Sandra Joycea.

Well, I must fly.

Take a seat, Miss Joyce,
I'll be with you in a moment.

You can call me Sandra,

and if you're very nice,
you can make it Sandy.

I'm the only one you'll get any
cooperation from round here.

- So it's in both our interests.
- Is it?

Under the present will,
I get a couple of thousand.

But if the birds
outlive the others...

- You get the lot.
- All two million.

So, Mr. Randall...

Jeffrey. And if you're very nice,
you can make it Jeff.

I wouldn't rely too much on Beeches.

Any particular reason?

He's very good,
but he can't hold his whisky.

At least not what
he likes to put away.

That's all I need.

Uncle James is all talk and no do.

But dear old Gabby, she'd do anything
to get her hands on the money.

- What about the Colonel?
- Square and honest.

He'd have to be convinced
a move was honourable first.

Two million pounds
can be very persuasive.

So can I, Mr. Randall.

What's the grub like?

- Is there a window open, Johns?
- No, madam.

Well, go and look anyway.

Yes, it is a little draughty.

Nobody's perfect, Jeff.

I checked all the rooms,
there's no sign of a rifle.

But you're right about Mrs. Howe.
Know what I found on her floor?

- Birdseed.
- Birdseed?

Big mouth!

Birdseed. We ought to check the food
the birds are getting.

Pathetic!

But surely you don't think anyone
would be so low

as to poison the birds?

Everything's worth checking.
I'll send some samples to the lab.

Come along, James, we'll take
our coffee in the drawing room.

Well, don't just sit there.

- Follow them.
- Will you watch the aviary?

You keep on looking at that chair.

Ah, I was just admiring it,
it's so... pretty.

So is the sofa.

- Cigarette?
- No, thank you.

The aviary, Jeff,
you're going to watch the aviary.

I think we should ask
this detective person to leave.

Bound to talk.
Ulterior motive, that sort of thing.

Besides, Mr. Laverick
would never allow it.

Then, I shall go to my room.

Mr. Randall has quite upset me.

Insufferable fellow.

I feel like a breath of fresh air,
myself.

Coming, James?

- Not just now, Colonel.
- Hmm.

- I should look around the grounds.
- There's no hurry, surely.

I should make sure my clients
are tucked up on their perches.

- You know what they say.
- What?

They say a bird in the hand...

could be worth two million pounds.

Beeches can take care of things.

When he's sober, you said.

I'd like some more brandy.

Jeff, will you come out here?

Don't go away.

I thought you
were watching the aviary.

- Beeches is doing that.
- I didn't see him.

But I saw James. And the Colonel's
out there somewhere.

Beeches!

- What's happening in there?
- I don't know.

- Beeches is over here, unconscious.
- That's great.

- What is?
- Beeches is there, in the bushes.

How could you see that
from over there?

Carrots.

I always could see in the dark.

- They seem cheerful enough.
- Yeah.

Birds don't usually get insomnia.
I wonder what made 'em so excited.

Uncle James!

Oh, Jeff, how?

- It must be poison.
- Poison?! In here?

That mark!
He's been pecked by a bird!

- But why James Howe?
- The birds strike back.

The speckle-bill
isn't exactly poisonous.

Someone's gone to a lot of trouble
to make it look that way.

- The Colonel?
- No. Not his style.

- Did you stay with Mrs. Howe?
- Yes, she's clear.

She spent all the time stuffing
birdseed down the wash basin.

Beeches. He might be playing games.

Let's not forget
the Sandra Joyce species.

- She's got a motive.
- I was with her.

I wonder why she's so keen
to keep you occupied?

Oh, thanks.

- I've finished with the others.
- Oh, good. Anything I can do?

- Detective, you said, sir?
- That's right.

The, ah... the only one
I can vouch for is Miss Joyce.

Yes, she said so.

Would you mind telling me
why you're here, sir?

- He'll never believe it.
- I'm guarding the aviary.

- Bird guard?
- I told you.

Yes.

- Any cats you're worried about, sir?
- One or two.

Mm... Well, I'm sure the Inspector
will be wanting a word with you.

You won't be leaving suddenly?

- I wouldn't dream of it.
- Good.

Sergeant, what about the Colonel?
Where was he?

Why don't you ask the Inspector, sir?

I can see we're not going to get
a lot of help from the locals.

Whoever did this murder
isn't going to stop at James Howe.

You'd better keep your eyes open
tonight, especially in the aviary.

- Where will you be?
- We mortals have to sleep.

You can say that again.
You're a prime nodder.

Night-night.

- Mrs. Howe...
- Keep away from me.

I wanted to say how sorry I was.

You killed him, you and those birds!

- Come, my dear.
- It's true!

- It would never have happened!
- We don't know that.

If you hadn't interfered,
they'd be dead,

all those filthy little birds
would be dead!

Come, you mustn't talk like that.

But he's responsible,
him and those birds!

How's the head?

All right, considering.

She's a nasty piece of work.

- He just crept up on you, did he?
- Yes.

- He's good, surprising a gamekeeper.
- What's that mean?

I wonder what he hit you with?

Whisky bottle?

But I must know, Gabrielle.

What's the point?
What does it matter?

I think it does.
What was James doing in the aviary?

What had you told him to do?

Nothing.

We both know James
wouldn't do anything on his own.

It was a mistake. He must
have thought I'd used the birdseed.

He'd probably gone to get rid of it.

So, Randall was right.

Yes, why not?
My stupid sister-in-law.

As long as they live, she said.

Well, there's no law against
killing birds.

But somebody killed James.

What are you up to?

Petrol, that's all we need
You're going to burn the place down.

Listen, you can't just do that.
No, wait, wait.

Jeff? Jeff, wake up.

Come on, don't just lie there.

Jeff, this is Marty.
You must wake up.

Wake up!

No, don't!

Jeff, I need some help!

FIRE!

Mrs. Howe, think what you're doing.

Will you stop messing about
with those matches?

Mrs. Howe!

Mrs. Howe!

Oh, no!

And about time. I spent half
the night trying to wake you up.

Why? What happened?

Nothing much. Only another murder.

- Oh, is that... What?! Who?
- Not who, Howe, Mrs, in the aviary.

Well, at least we know who did it.
Don't we?

But you saw the killer!

There wasn't anybody,
just Mrs. Howe and the birds.

Of course, ah... it's not for me
to point the finger at...

Yes, sir?

The only man with half a motive
and all the opportunity is Beeches.

Well?

I was in my room all night,
Mr. Randall.

You didn't even go out to the aviary?

After that crack on the head it was
all I could do to get myself to bed!

I swear it, Mr. Randall!
I never set foot outside my room.

All right, Beeches.
The police will want to see you now.

He's scared, Jeff.

But if he had done it,
you'd expect some sort of motive.

Yes, my thought. But how was it done?

It's a funny thing about poison.
It's supposed to be a woman's weapon.

Not Sandra.
She couldn't have got near James.

- It's been a horrible day.
- I've known better.

Beeches! I just can't believe it,
I've known him for years.

- Beeches?
- The Sergeant's just arrested him.

He hasn't.

- Stay where you are!
- This won't help you!

I'm not being arrested
for something I didn't do!

You're a fool!
They'll just track you down.

There's one barrel loaded, Jeff.

No! No, wait!

Don't take any chances, Randall!

Hold it!

We'll get him.

I'll keep an eye on the birds,
Sergeant.

Nonsense!
Charging Beeches with murder.

Detained for questioning, sir.

- Only for questioning.
- It's ridiculous!

Beeches phoned me last night
and told me about Mr. Howe.

He's hardly likely to have then
run out and committed another murder.

Innocent men
don't resist arrest, sir.

Have you any evidence?
Of course you haven't.

Beeches is the last person
to have a motive!

What about you, Mr. Randall?
Is that your opinion, too?

No. Beeches is too handy with
a shotgun to bother with poison.

Marty!

Whoever it was
was out there somewhere.

Probably in those bushes.

If this is an outside job,
we're in trouble.

Yeah.

- That's interesting.
- What?

Somebody's watching us
from the woods.

Look, there isn't really
any necessity for all this.

- I'm a registered birdwatcher!
- With this?

- I'm sorry about that.
- Sorry?

You'll have 20 years to find out
just how sorry you are.

20 years? What are you talking about?

Murder. Twice. What do you use,
some kind of pellet?

Murder? There must be some mistake.
I only shot a bird.

It was all I was told to shoot.

Yeah? Who told you?

Who sent you? Who?

There's something here, Jeff.

This one's no help.

You could send it to a lab
and have it analysed.

If it's a well-known poison,
it could give us a lead.

As long as you're sure.

Cos I don't want to be there
when you tell the police you kept it.

- You sure about the Colonel?
- Yes, I looked everywhere.

Johns the butler was here.

Beeches, you're guess
is as good as mine.

The police caught Beeches
two hours ago. They phoned earlier.

What time did they get him?

You mean could he have done
the last murder? I don't know.

- What about Laverick?
- Didn't check his room.

But Sandra Joyce wasn't in the house.

- My money's on the Colonel.
- I'm not so sure, Jeff.

Like you said, it's out of character.

Maybe he's being clever.

Ah. Here we are.

"Rinstad. A poisonous resin
obtained from diseased tree bark.

"Has a strong, pungent odour."

"Affects muscles, causing paralysis.
Death occurs within seconds."

You know I can't smell anything.

Take my word. Strong, pungent odour.

"Used by primitive tribes
in India and Burma."

I wonder where the Colonel
did his army service?

You're making him fit the crime.

- He's the logical suspect.
- Is he?

Your Sandra Joyce studied chemistry.
Organic chemistry.

Where'd you find that out?

There you are, Jeff.
I've been looking for you.

What's that?

It's a poisoned dart.
Dipped in Rinstad.

Sandra, what do you know about
the Colonel's army career?

- What do you want to know?
- Did he serve overseas?

- He was in India before the war.
- Circumstantial.

It's got to be him!

Rinstad! Doesn't that come
from India or Burma?

Both. Look,
I think we'd better tell Laverick.

I'll get him.

- Oh, don't say a word to the...
- No, no. No.

You're rushing things a bit, Jeff.

I don't believe it's Sandra.
Beeches, I don't know.

Laverick wouldn't send me
if planning a massacre.

It may not be anybody from the house.

They have the motives.
And the man in the woods?

He was killed to stop him telling me
who hired him.

There's only the Colonel left.

- I suppose it does add up.
- Of course it does.

What's all this about
a poisoned dart, Randall?

A man was killed in the woods
with this.

I'm convinced the Colonel fired it.

I see.
What do you propose to do about it?

If you'll phone the police,
I'll take care of the Colonel.

I don't think he intended to stop
with the Howes.

You're the only person left
with any claim to the money.

Very well. I'll phone right away.

Well done, Randall.
A splendid piece of deduction.

- Thank you.
- Thanks, Jeff.

If it hadn't been for you,
I'd have been the next one to go.

Shall I be the next to go?

I'd better look for the Colonel.
You stay here.

Anything you say.

Present for you, Colonel.

We know how you did it, and why.

"Good work, Randall.
A splendid piece of deduction."

Ah, Randall. Are you...?

Oh, no.

No. Not the Colonel.

- Same way as the others.
- What?

But how? We were all in the library
together.

Beeches! When did he get back?

An hour ago, didn't anyone tell you?

No. I was in the library.

The police let him go.
Lack of evidence. I knew they would.

Let's see what they say about this!

All right. Still, Beeches.

What's up with you?
What are you doing with my gun?

- Another move, you get both barrels.
- What's going on here?

You killed the Colonel
when the rest of us were together.

That's a lie! The police were
satisfied with my story!

Let's see if they like this one.
Where should we put him?

Well, there is the wine cellar.

I never touched the Colonel.
I didn't even know he was dead!

Come on.

Well, thank goodness it's over.
It's been a terrible experience.

I'll be happier
when Beeches is locked up.

I couldn't agree more.

I can't understand why the police
aren't here yet.

- Did you speak to the Sergeant?
- Yes.

It's been an hour.
We'd better check on Beeches.

That's a good idea.

Won't be a moment, Sandra.

- I've got to talk to you.
- I'll be right with you.

Very well.

- Look, I've been working things out.
- Such as?

Such as Beeches hasn't got a motive.

He was only a trustee
under the will, right?

Well, by killing off the heirs,
he'd do himself out of business.

Why should he hire someone
to shoot the birds?

- He can do that himself.
- But it has to be Beeches!

No. I've checked from the lawn.

He could see somebody go into
the lounge - Laverick or Sandra.

- Not Sandra.
- Don't be fooled by a pretty face.

She could've killed the Colonel
before she came into the library.

What's all that about?

Laverick said that Beeches
had phoned him about the murder.

- Why would he want to do that?
- And if he didn't?

Exactly.

Good evening, my dear.

Where's Mr. Randall?
Isn't he joining us?

Didn't I tell you?
He took Beeches to the village.

The police had a breakdown.
Quite extraordinary.

- It's more, it's ridiculous!
- Oh. He'll be back soon?

- Oh, yes. May I get you some food?
- Where's Johns?

- On his way to London.
- London?

Yes, poor fellow.

He received some rather
distressing news about his sister.

His sister?
I didn't know he had a sister.

He hasn't. He hasn't!
Don't believe a word of it!

Oh, yes. She was taken ill
rather suddenly. He was most upset.

- When did he leave?
- Oh, about an hour ago.

Mr. Randall took him to the station
on his way to the village.

A little wine, my dear?

Boy, are we in trouble!

- Laverick?
- He sent Johns to London.

He's sitting upstairs,
humming to himself,

getting ready
to give Sandra the chop.

- I've gotta get out.
- Not through there, you won't.

It'd take ten men
to break the bolts he's put on it.

- You have to warn her!
- You know I can't!

Laverick has planned
this whole thing from the start.

Yeah. Me, the birds,
then the killings.

You know, I bet he's thought of
a scheme to frame you for the lot.

Well, don't just stand there.
Think of something!

Like what?

How long before he deals with Sandra?

- I don't know. Does it matter?
- It might.

If you can get someone to phone her,
she could slip away and get me out.

Great. Great. All I want
is a psychic telephone operator.

Yeah, a sort of
spiritual switchboard.

- Did you hear that?
- What?

Very strange. Someone's calling me.

Calling?

You stay here, Jeff.
I'll do the best I can.

Oh, yeah. I'll stay here.

So it was you, Jeannie.
You're thinking about me, aren't you?

But how?

Look, all you do is put your fingers
on the glass like that.

Concentrate and it'll start to move.

So that's it.
That's how you reached me.

It'll go to each letter in turn
and spell out a message.

- I still don't believe it works.
- I've done it before!

Jeannie, you're smoking too much.

I'm sorry, love, I can't stay.
Jeff's in trouble.

Jeff, you're drinking too much.

Is there anybody there?

There is now, I've arrived.

- You're not concentrating, Carol.
- Of course I am.

Well, it worked when I did it before.

It's supposed to do that!

- You're pushing it!
- I'm not! It's doing it itself.

Look, I'm doing it, I'm allowed to.

Now, let's see what the message is.

What did you do that for?

- I don't want to play, it's scary.
- Carol!

I didn't want to in the first place!

- Hey, Jean!
- Yes, sorry?

- Come and sit here, Jean.
- Brilliant. Good lad.

Peter, I'd rather not, really.

- Jeannie, don't argue.
- Oh, come on.

- Just sit down here.
- OK.

Right, what do you want me to do?

Just put your finger on the glass
and concentrate.

Right. What now?

What is your message?

I want you to phone Timstead 3-8...

Phone, phone. Where's the P?

- P...
- H.

Aren't you gonna write this down?

- H...
- Anybody got a pen?

- Come on, Carol. Write this down.
- O.

P-H-O.

- O...
- N.

Yes, my dear. You'll have the world
at your feet.

Young, rich, beautiful.

An irresistible combination.

Oh, the estate won't come to me
for years.

True, but one never knows.

After all, who would have guessed
that in less than two days

three of the heirs
should have departed so tragically?

- You don't sound too concerned.
- Well, why should I be?

For the past ten years
I've managed this estate effectively,

only to see it
dispersed amongst... hangers on.

That's an astonishing remark.

Hm? Yes, it is, isn't it?
I do apologise, my dear.

If you advised my aunt,

you must have suggested
that she leave the estate in trust.

How perceptive of you.
Yes, I arranged it all.

L... L...

A...

R...

Well, that seems to be that, then.

That's good.

Well, I suppose so.
Make any sense, Carol?

I don't know. It's funny spelling.

Funny spelling?
It's your handwriting!

Well, I recognised a few words.

I think I can make a message, wait!
Uh...

"Phone Timstead 3-8-0.

"Tell Sandra..."

I think it's Sandra.

Of course it's Sandra!

"Joyce..."

No, "Jeff... Rand...

Randall! Jeff Randall!

- Do you know him?
- He's my husband's partner!

- Jeff Randall, then.
- Tell Sandra what?

"Jeff Randall
is locked in the cellar."

Does it make any sense?

Come on, Jeannie, come on.

I don't know, I suppose it could.

Jeannie, we're counting on you!

A little brandy, my dear.
The perfect nightcap.

Mr. Randall should be back by now.

Oh, I expect he's had
to make a statement.

I'm sure he won't be too long.

That might be him.

- Hello?
- Timstead 3-8-0?

- Yes.
- Is that Sandra Joyce speaking?

Yes. Who is it?

Look, I don't know
if this'll make sense,

but I've got a message for you.

I think it's working, Jeff.

- You got the message?
- Yes, but how...?

- Laverick's coming.
- Inside. Shut the door.

He's gone into the lounge. Duck!

Thanks!

- This way, Jeff!
- Thanks!

Jeff!

Thank you, Randall.
That will be quite sufficient.

Why, Laverick?
That's what I don't understand.

The money, of course.

- You'll never get it.
- Keep him talking.

Get it? I've been using the money
for the last ten years.

And so long as I'm the trustee,
no one will find out. Especially you.

Oh. Oh...

The birds...

They did it. It was the birds.

I'm the one. I did it!

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