All language subtitles for Father.Brown.2013.S09E05.1080p.HEVC.x265-MeGusta

Tomorrow?

You're certain?

No, you've done well.

It's time I paid a visit to
an old friend.

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*FATHER BROWN (2013)
Season 09 Episode 05

Episode Title: "The Final Devotionr"
Aired on: January 07, 2022.

Must I have a reason to visit?

Well, you've travelled thousands
of miles.

It's not like you're popping in
next-door for a cup of tea.

Oh, charming.

Well, if you don't want me here,
I'll leave.

Well, you mightn't even see
your niece.

We still don't know
when Penelope's due back.

Well, that depends on how long
I stay, doesn't it?

Everything in hand?

- Yes.
- Oh, the flowers.

- I'll telephone the florist.
- Well, ring them and tell them to hurry.

The Cardinal's going to be here in
less than an hour.

I doubt we'll be excommunicated

for the lack of
a few petunias, Mrs M.

I'm going.

Ah.
Don't even think about it.

[SNIFFLING]

Hercule?

The Camembert is a little ripe.
Sorry. Long journey.

What are you doing here?

I came to say goodbye.
I'm leaving. For New York.

Permanently. I seek a new chapter.

And what is this title of this
chapter?

"Flambeau's Clean Slate"?

You win.
I intend to settle down,

grow old,
and lead a blameless life.

You're renouncing crime?

In due course.

Ah.

There's one last treasure
I simply must possess.

Then my collection is complete
and I set sail for a new life.

And this treasure would be?

If I told you that,
it would ruin the surprise.

All I can offer is
a friendly warning.

The road you're on is going down
and down.

And one day you'll find yourself in
a hole from which,

despite your cunning,

you will be unable to escape.

Quit while you are ahead.

Father.

One moment.

Mrs McCarthy is flapping around like
a grouse on the twelfth of August.

Have you been having
a nibble during confession?

Cardinal Ratcliffe has been
appointed Prefect of

the Supreme Tribunal of
the Apostolic Signatura.

I'm not familiar with
Vatican apparatus...

The Prefect's responsible

for justice and discipline within
the Church.

Sounds ominous.
Why come all the way to Kembleford?

I wish I knew.

You didn't tell me he was bringing
a friend.

Do behave.

Welcome to Kembleford,
Your Eminence.

You must be the famous Father Brown.

Your name is whispered
in the corridors of the Palazzo

with unnerving regularity.

There must be many Father Browns in
the church.

Yet, I suspect you're one of a kind.

May I present our parish secretary,
Mrs McCarthy.

Your Eminence.

And...

Lady Felicia Montague.
Patron of St Mary's.

And this is?

Ispettore Angelini of
the Papal Carabinieri.

Your ladyship.

Angelini kindly agreed
to accompany me... for security.

And what brings you
to Kembleford, Your Eminence?

All in good time.

1485.

An unknown thief broke into
the Lateran Treasury

and escaped with one of
the most valuable artefacts in

the history of the Catholic Church.

I am surprised such
a crime is not better known.

It was kept secret.
The Holy See could not appear weak.

What exactly was stolen?

The Tiara of Saint Sylvester,

used in Papal coronations since
the 13th century.

A three-tiered, golden crown
encrusted with sapphires,

emeralds, pearls
and finished with a ruby so large

it made Isabella I of Spain
weep when she saw it.

Father?

Yes?
Are you listening?

Please continue.

Recent correspondence has come
to light suggesting that it was sold

to Sir William Brintley,
a corrupt English nobleman.

Now, Sir William intended
to give the tiara to Richard III...

"Intended"?

Sir William and Richard were both
killed in 1485 at Bosworth Field,

before this devotion could be made.

We believe Sir William hid
the tiara on his estate

before joining the king in battle.

We're aware of your
particular talents.

Find the tiara.

Bring it to me.

It belongs in Rome.

So you intend to steal it?

To return it, Senora,
to its rightful home.

Even if it were at Brintley castle,

it's been lost for nearly
500 years.

The castle has remained in
private hands

and largely untouched.

Wherever the tiara was hidden,

God willing,
perhaps it's still there.

So where exactly do we come in
to all this?

Lady Cecily, the castle's owner,
has seen her fortunes dwindle.

In order to make ends meet,
her plan is to hire the castle out

for special occasions.

How would you like to help me
plan a wedding?

Thank you so much.

Thank you.

One more time?

Patricia Lovelow.
Patty to her friends.

Wealthy widow,
soon to be remarried to Brent Cable,

American steel tycoon.

Are you sure this is a good idea?

I can play a convincing widow.

I simply have to imagine
Monty being trampled by

a herd of elephants, then try not to
look too pleased about it.

Your turn.
I'm only participating

because the request came directly
from the Vatican.

And because you get
to look fabulous in my furs.

Mrs Gwendoline O'Shea.
Mother to Patty,

here to ensure that the reception
venue is suitable.

Do I really have to be her mother?

Could I not be her cousin?
Or... or a young aunt?

Too late.

Welcome to Brintley Castle,
Mrs Lovelow.

Thank you. May I introduce my dear
old mother, Mrs O'Shea?

No, no, please call me Gwendoline.

And our friend Father Brown.

I do hope you're
going to like our humble abode.

A wedding reception is just
what the old girl needs

to bring her back to life.

Oh, it is far lovelier than
I had imagined.

Oh, come.
Let me give you the grand tour.

What about our...?

Right.

Apologies for the lack of staff.

I've rather got used to fending
for myself.

Obviously, for the big day,
we'll have a full team.

I remember when my Neville
proposed to me.

He took me on a Champagne picnic.

Off to fight in South Africa,
you see.

Wanting to tie up the loose ends.

I told him, "Yes, so long as you
don't get shot."

Sadly, he was never very good at
following orders.

My condolences.

Ancient history, Father.

I'm sorry that on this occasion
you won't get to meet the groom.

Sadly, Brent has been detained in
America on business.

That's what you think.

Sorry?

Who says romance is dead.

Mr Cable.

Surprise.

He cut short his business trip just
so he could be with you.

Darling. I've missed you.

I know I should be sealing
the big deal,

but every second with you is worth
a million bucks in the bank.

But I...

Mrs O'Shea,
you're in the Evesham Suite.

Ooh.

Father Brown,
you're in Warwick.

And the happy couple are in
the Royal Suite.

I was a little surprised
they're already sharing quarters,

but I understand things are
different across the pond.

You're too kind. And may I say what
a swell place you have here.

He's certainly a charmer.

I'll leave you to freshen up
before supper.

How DARE you?

Is a man not allowed
to kiss his fiancee?

- What're you doing here?
- The same as us.

The tiara. Of course.
Don't even think about denying it.

And you can wipe that smug smile off
your face

because I am going downstairs now
to telephone the police.

And blow your cover?

I've a better idea.

Let's work together to find
the tiara.

I'll keep the ruby on top.

Everything else is returned to the
Vatican.

Are you seriously suggesting
stripping a holy relic for parts?

You need my help.
I have an array of valuable skills.

These hands can work miracles.

And don't forget, the tiara has been
hidden for half a millennium.

And it would do well to remain
hidden for another half,

rather than you get your filthy,
thieving mitts on it.

Father, these mean girls won't let
me join in their game.

Tell them they must share.

Lady Felicia is right.
The tiara is sacred.

Go, or we will alert
the authorities.

But don't forget I've travelled
from America

to see my beautiful fiance.

If I leave so soon,
Lady Cecily will get suspicious.

How about I stay the night,

then tomorrow morning say I've been
called away on urgent business?

I'll be gone before breakfast.

I suppose.
Father.

Excellent. I believe we're in here,
sugar-plum.

You must be tired after your
long journey.

I know I am.
How about I run us a bath?

She's saving herself
for our wedding night.

I guess this means I'm bunking
with you, Father.

Eight years ago we were producing
72%

of the world's steel.

Now we're losing share to Japan,
India...

Darling, let's not discuss business
over dinner.

Not that it's much of a dinner.

Sorry. Still learning this etiquette
you Brits love so much.

That's quite all right, Mr Cable.

Tell me, how did you two meet?

I... I was waiting outside
a railway station,

trying to get home.

He offered me a lift.

Couldn't leave a lady stranded?

In return, she invited me to
an art exhibition.

An eventful evening, as I recall.

And the rest is history.

I nearly forgot.

I have something for you, my love.

It's my necklace.

It belonged to her father.

The family were forced
to sell it at auction.

Luckily,
I know the collector who bought it.

How very considerate of you.

CECILY: You've got a good one there,
dear.

FATHER: Lady Cecily, I'm very keen
to know about the castle's history.

CECILY: It's all in the archives.

In the library,

we have documents going back
to Sir William Brintley himself.

Fascinating.
Why don't we look together?

Tomorrow morning, after breakfast?

But, Mr Cable, did you not say you
had to leave before first light?

So soon?

I'm sure an extra hour or two
wouldn't hurt.

Do you have to smoke in bed?

It helps me relax.

You returned Lady Felicia's
necklace. Why?

I found it lying about.
It's not to my taste.

Seemed uncharacteristically
selfless.

I told you, Father, I'm on the path
of redemption.

By the way, where's the Cardinal

while you're here doing his dirty
work?

In a hotel in Brintley.

Think you'll find it?

The tiara?

Sir William Brintley's will.

Isn't that why you were fishing
for a peek at the family archives?

You believe he left a clue to
the tiara's hiding-place.

Goodnight, Hercule.

[CLATTERING]

Bout of insomnia.
Thought I'd stretch my legs.

You're off to look for the tiara,
aren't you?

You couldn't resist the temptation.

You can hardly blame me.

Stealing things is always more fun
with you around.

I get to watch you pretend you're
not enjoying yourself.

Hercule. I'm going to investigate
the archives.

Feel free to go back to bed.

- Found it.
- The will?

Listen. It's addressed to
Sir William's daughter.

"The King must have his crown.

"Should I fall in battle, from my
ashes shill rise the knowledge he require."

From my ashes.
" Was his body burned?

In the will, he asked to be buried
in the family crypt.

Ashes?
A fireplace perhaps?

Look. This plan was drawn by
a visiting 18th century clergyman.

According to these, there was a
fireplace in the solar.

Sir William's private quarters.

Either your clergyman was fond
of artistic embellishment

or it's been blocked up.
I'll check upstairs.

Wait. The old solar is behind
all this.

Here.

Allow me.

What will we tell Lady Cecily?

That I was teaching you
an Irish jig and got carried away.

It's a boar.

The symbol of Richard III.

"The Golden Legend."

The book of saints.

One of the earliest texts printed in
English. Caxton. 1483.

Must be worth a king's ransom.

At the very least,
it will help us find one.

"Follow Saynt Sylvester's steps.
The dragon guards the crown."

Dragon?
What does it mean?

Don't move.

I told you you should leave.

Really? Now?

You've got some explaining to
do, Father.

I'm so sorry that Brent had
to rush off without saying goodbye.

Business is busy-ness.

Oh, your gardens, Lady Cecily,
are truly delightful.

And the peacocks.

I'm sure our guests will be
most appreciative.

I've had quite a lot of time on my
hands the last few years.

May I ask a personal question?

Of course.

To have lived here alone for so
long...

Was there never anyone
else?

I put my heart back together again,
bit by bit.

But I could never really give it
to anyone again.

Not properly.
I didn't dare. Here.

Make a wish.

For a marriage full of love
and happiness.

A happy marriage.

Well, I must go
and set preparations for lunch.

Feel free to Look around.

Oh, thank you.

Where has Father Brown got to?

His note said they were going to
the village.

At least it looks like
You Know Who has left.

Yes, and good riddance.

All right, out with it.
Why have you really come back?

I missed you.

I missed Kembleford.
I was homesick. Satisfied?

No. Has something happened
with Monty?

Why, would you...?

Oh, fine.
We had a row.

Hardly the first time, I know,

but this time it was rather
fierce.

And prolonged.

I thought we'd benefit from being on
separate continents for a while.

Is it really that bad?

I envy Lady Cecily.

For her, love is eternally perfect.

A champagne picnic on a summer's
day, crystallised in time.

She'll never have to watch it fade.

Angelini searched your study.

He found this.

Hercule Flambeau is a troubled soul
in search of redemption.

Wrong. He's a desecrator
of holy relics.

A cancer eating away at
the Church.

He must not be tolerated.

You planned this?

We came here to find the tiara
and catch a thief.

Will Flambeau be taken to Rome
to stand trial?

Flambeau's to be handed over to
the authorities in Spain.

Spain?

Three years ago, he worked with an
anti-government faction there,

stealing certain artefacts from
Franco's personal collection.

If he was working for the
resistance,

that will mean the death sentence.

That is out of our hands.

But...
Concentrate on finding the tiara!

No.

No?

I will not be part of sending
a man to his death.

You'd take the side of a degenerate
thief

over your instructions from
the highest authority?

You'll face excommunication
for this.

Nevertheless, I will not locate
the tiara

unless Flambeau receives a fair
trial,

either here or in Rome.

Very well.

Let him rot in jail...

...if you find the tiara.

Where's Father Brown?

He's with the Cardinal.

He'll be back soon.

You really don't remember me, do
you?

Don't take it personally.

I've had my share of encounters
with the law.

Yet you always seem to escape.
Unlike me.

Monte Carlo?

The war had just finished?

No?

Vincenzo?
I thought you were dead.

Nearly.

I got thrown in Monaco's
Maison d'Arret,

while you vanished with the House of
Grimaldi's family jewels.

Adesso siamo insieme,
un'altra volta.

I said I'd find you.

According to The Golden Legend,
a dragon was terrorising Rome.

Saint Sylvester found the dragon's
lair and bound its mouth.

Shall I ask Lady Cecily if she has
a statue of a dragon?

Or a painting?

No. The less she knows about this
the better.

We need to find it ourselves.
Quickly.

I heard the police coming and hid.
You'd have done the same.

You tipped them off and
left me to take the blame.

If that's what you choose
to believe,

let me make amends.
I'll help you find the tiara.

I only ask for a small cut.
Say 40%?

Make a deal with
the man that left me for dead

and then slept with my wife?

In my defence, we both thought she'd
just become a widow.

I was trying to cheer her up.

I'm really going to enjoy
killing you, Hercule.

[KNOCK AT DOOR]

Hello?

One second.

Who are you...?
I'm Mr Cable's personal assistant.

I'm here to collect some belongings
he left behind.

What was that?

Look what you made me do.

Now I have to get some more rope.

Isn't that just typical?

There's me, turning the house
upside-down

while you're just sat
there reading.

Where is Lady Felicia?

Searching the garden,
for all the good it'll do.

No sign of fire-breathing
dragons anywhere.

Not even a lizard with halitosis.

Maybe you shouldn't be looking
for the dragon.

- Maybe we should be looking for the pit.
- What pit?

The dragon lived in a pit.

A cave on the outskirts of the city.

TAPPING

Did you hear that?

Reminds me of the Presbytery.
Same awful racket our boiler makes.

That isn't a boiler.

That's a message.

Lady Cecily. Lady Cecily,
can you hear me?

Angelini's an impostor.
His real name is Vincenzo Gavagna.

Huh! What have you done?!

It was Angelini.
He wants the tiara for himself.

Oh, and why should we believe you?

Because he's telling the truth.

The real Inspector Angelini

is somewhere at the bottom of
the Tiber.

Excuse me,
this woman needs a doctor.

No doctors.

Not until Father Brown brings me
the tiara.

She could be dead by then.

Then he'd better hurry up.
You have until sunset, Father.

After that, I'm going to shoot
someone every hour

until you run out of friends.

And then I'm going to shoot you.

But we can't be certain
the tiara's even here.

Have faith, Father.

And if I find the tiara,
you'll let everyone go?

Except the Flambeau.

We have history.

Well?

I believe we are looking for a cave
or a pit within the grounds.

Excellent.

I'm going to tie up your friends
and then help you look.

Making sure you don't call
the police, of course.

There was no splash!

Father,
I think I know where the pit is.

Well, well. Follow his steps.

X marks the spot?

They're Roman numerals.

There's more.

12, 31.

It's a date.

31st of December.

New Year's Eve?

The feast of Saint Sylvester.

It appears we've found
the entrance to the dragon's lair.

CLATTERING ECHO

Do you mind if I don't go down
there?

I'm not very good with heights.

Got it?

Um-mm.
Excellent. Pass it to me.

Mm?

Use your imagination.

Well, don't drop it,
whatever you do.

Hurry up.
I should never have come.

I wanted to teach Monty a lesson.

He probably hasn't even noticed
I've gone.

- Then the man's a fool.
- You don't get to have an opinion.

Got it.

Untie me.

But think of all
the fun we could have.

Very well.
But may I say

how much I've enjoyed our time in
captivity together?

Just get on with it.

What now?

Saint Sylvester was instructed
to walk 150 paces into the pit.

There he would find the dragon.

OK. Avanti.

One, two, three, four.

That's it? You're just running off
and leaving us?

I'm going after Angelini.

Going after the tiara, more like.

My priority is rescuing
Father Brown.

What about us?

There is a madman on the loose
and Lady Cecily,

I think she may have broken her hip.
We can't move her.

You stay here. Barricade the door.
I'll go with Flambeau.

- Can't get enough of me?
- I don't trust you not to steal the tiara

and then leave us.
We'll come back for you when it's safe.

Well, do be careful.

Tell me you have a plan.

- I'll improvise.
- Oh, good.

Well,
while he's busy shooting you,

I'll bash him over the head
with this.

- What?
- I know you're unhappy.

You've been unhappy
for a long time.

I saw it in your eyes
the first day we met.

What business is that of yours?

Because we both know
there's something between us.

I've had quite enough
of your mockery.

Oh, I'm not mocking you.
I'm deadly serious.

I bribed a servant
of yours in Rhodesia

to let me know when you were
returning to Kembleford.

What are you saying?

I'm not here for the tiara.

The treasure
I came for is you.

148, 149, 150.

One dragon.

May I borrow your belt?

My belt?

Saint Sylvester bound
the dragon's mouth.

"Non furtum facies".

"Do not steal."

Saint Sylvester took two lanterns
into the pit...

And after he bound
the dragon's mouth,

he knelt and offered a prayer
to God.

Why not?

Abandon my entire life?

Move to New York with
a man that I hardly know?

Well, what do you want to know?

I'll tell you anything.
Just say yes.

You couldn't handle me.

Try me.

- No.
- I can't simply leave my husband

and run off to the other side of
the world.

Isn't that exactly what you've
already done?

Only to return to Montague,
my home.

So you'd sooner be like Lady Cecily
and grow old

and lonely in your mansion wondering
what might have been?

Well, right now,
I'd sooner save Father Brown.

You stay here in case they
come back.

Where are you going?

To check the groundsman's shed
for a shotgun.

And if you're lucky,
I won't use it on you!

Ha!

Want to shoot me?

Go on, shoot me.

Do it.

Give me that.

I have no further use for you,
Father.

So get on your knees.

I'm not a monster.
I would not shoot a priest

so hopefully somebody is
going to find you down here.

Perhaps in 500 years?

Arrivederci, Father.

Figlio, spirito santo.

I should've
killed you the moment I saw you.

Isn't hindsight a wonderful thing?
What did that achieve?

- It stopped him escaping.
- Yes, but by trapping him down there

- with Father Brown.
- It buys us time. Find a shotgun?

No.

I have a proposal.

Aren't you just full of them?

I'll lower another rope if you agree

to send up Father Brown with
the tiara. And the gun.

I've a better idea.
You drop the rope.

I keep the gun and the tiara.

And I don't shoot Father Brown in
the head.

No deal, sorry.

- Didn't you hear what he said?
- He won't shoot his hostage.

He knows we'd leave him down there.
We'll have to wait him out.

What have you done?

You may not
want to wait too long.

- You called the police?
- I thought...

If they turn up,
he'll get desperate.

Father Brown could get caught in
the crossfire.

New offer. A straight swap.
Me for Father Brown.

I'll lower a rope and climb down

if you let Father Brown
and the others go.

Are you mad?
He'll shoot you.

Exactly.
I'm the one he wants dead.

It's the only way Father Brown
walks free.

You'd sacrifice yourself
to save him?

Why not?
He's spent years trying to save me.

It's a deal.

But any tricks,
I'll kill you both.

Will you help me look
for another rope?

Mon die...

It appears Flambeau values your life
higher than his own.

It is never too late
to turn away from evil.

You gave your word.
Let the priest climb up.

Then you can do as you wish.

On your way, Father.
You won't want to see this.

A moment, please, before I go?

If you must. But be quick.

Father?

Do you truly repent your past?

I do.

Then kneel before God.

Father, forgive me.
For I have sinned.

And yet you are here.

You warned me I'd find myself in
a hole

- from which there'd be no escape.
- Have faith.

Trust in the lord
and you will find salvation.

Deinde ego te absolvo
a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris,

- et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
- Enough. Go.

Amen.

Goodbye, Flambeau.

So this is it, huh?
The great Hercule Flambeau.

Shot dead in a stinking pit.

You have any last words?

None spring to mind.

Looking for these?

Never trust a priest.
Especially not that one.

That's a bit rich, coming from you.

You're in safe hands now,
Lady Cecily.

You are a good woman, Mrs O'Shea.

No, I'm not.

And my name isn't O'Shea.
It's McCarthy. Bridget McCarthy.

- But who...?
- I can explain.

I'm glad someone can.

Inspector? Heard a police report of
a priest stuck down a well.

I thought "If that's who
I think it is,

I've got to see this for myself."

Is the Father still in need
of assistance Mrs McCarthy?

No, he's not.
That's a relief.

But there is someone you will
want to speak to.

Regarding the murder of
an Italian policeman

and the assault on Lady Cecily.

Might not be a wasted trip,
after all.

Perhaps you should return it to
the Cardinal.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Are you still going to America?

I'm leaving tomorrow.

Then this really is goodbye.

Thank you for rescuing me.

Thank you for taking
the bullets out of his gun.

I was beginning to think
I'd miscalculated how much I like you.

And if you really have changed,

then maybe we will meet again,
beyond the pearly gates.

If you get to the bar first,
mine's a large Scotch.

Could you give us a moment?

Shouldn't you be going?

You don't want the police
to find you here.

Probably, yet I can't seem
to tear myself away.

I'm a married woman.

Your respect for the sanctity of
marriage

is one of
the many things I love about you.

You don't love me.
Don't I?

You say you wish
to turn your back on crime.

But I'm just a prize.

A trophy to be taken from under
the nose of another man.

That's not true.

Yes, it is.

You're wearing the necklace,
I see.

Forgive me for not returning
it sooner.

It was the only thing I had
to remind me of you.

No.

[POLICE SIREN]

Last chance.

We could make each other
very happy.

I wish that were true.

[WHISTLE BLOWS]

Send me a postcard.

Forgive my foolishness.

I should never have let that man
deceive me.

Do not blame yourself.

Better to believe a liar than
to doubt an honest man.

Trust me,
he shall be dealt with.

Talking of which,
I must return.

It's a long journey
back to Rome.

The tiara?

It's from Flambeau.

Surely the Vatican has enough jewels
hidden in its crypts?

All aboard!

Nonetheless, I meant what I said
about a clean slate.

Though how well I'll learn to resist
temptation, only time will tell.

[POLICE SIRENS]

NEW YORKER:
Hot dogs! Get ya hot dogs here!

Madame.
You dropped this.

Oh, gee, thanks.

No harm done.

Goodbye, old friend.

Or should I say au revoir?

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