All language subtitles for The.Inspector.Lynley.Mysteries.S01E01.Well.Schooled.in.Murder.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor_Track04

- Mrs. Whateley.
- Yes.

- John Corntel, Matthew's
housemaster at Bredgar Hall.

I really don't want
to worry you,

but is your son here?

- What do you mean,
Matthew's missing?

- The headmaster wants
me to assure you

that the school is doing
everything in its power

to find your son, Mr. Whateley.

- Never mind that!

What have the police said?

- We've held off going
to the police

until we could clarify that
Matthew hasn't come home.

- Good boy.

Stop here.

Nice and slow...

Ignore it, just ignore it.

It's okay, shh, it's all right.

Just ignore it.

Stay there, stay there.

Lynley.

John!

- How did you know I was here?

- It's the only place you
ever turn off your mobile.

- I sit by his bed,
trying to feel all

of the things you're supposed
to feel when a parent's dying.

Feeling guilty 'cause I
can't seem to feel them.

- Don't be too hard
on yourself, eh?

- We were never close.

- Yeah, I know.

- Nothing that I
particularly want to go into.

I thought this was
your weekend off.

- I just received a
call from an old friend.

You don't have to be involved
if you don't want to be.

He's a housemaster

at a boys' boarding
school in Berkshire,

and one of his boys
has gone missing.

- What, an old friend?

- His name's John Corntel.

We were at school together.

- Oh, I see.

- What is that supposed
to mean?!

When I say, "We were
at school together,"

it means I've spotted
a familiar face

at a supermarket check-out.

When you say it, it means a
quick tug on the old school tie

and you come running.

- If it wasn't for John Corntel,
Sergeant, it terrifies me

to think where I might be today.

His friendship is
something I value

almost above anything else.

And, yes, we did wear
the same tie at school.

- The sleeping pill's
got her off.

- Mr. Whateley, this is
Detective Inspector Lynley

from New Scotland Yard.
- Mr Whateley.

My colleague, Detective
Sergeant Havers.

How is your wife?

- Matthew was everything to her.

Is, is everything to her.

- I'm sure.

Has he ever run away
from school before?

- Never.
- And he gave no hint

in his letters or phone calls

that he was thinking
of running away,

or was at all unhappy at school?

- None whatsoever.

- Would it be possible to
have a look at Matthew's room?

It often helps to give a sense

of the person we're looking for.

- Sure, it's that
room on the left.

I'll put the kettle on.

- Thank you, that's very kind.

Have another go at the dad,

anything pointing to why
Matthew may have run away.

- I think working-class boy
at private boarding school's

a good place to start.

- Proper diaries.

- When you last spoke to
Matthew, Mr. Whateley,

did you detect any difference
in his mood,

or did he use any unusual
turn of phrase?

- Nothing.

- Happy birthday, Matthew.

Stephen Cowfrey-Pitt.

Grown-up books for a little boy.

- Just had a call
from the school.

Dear God!

- They're fresh, no
doubt about that.

By its width, I'd
say it's an HGV,

coach, something along
those lines.

Do an immediate check on all
coach firms, bus companies,

hauliers, anyone whose
route takes them

within a file mile radius
of Stoke Poges.

- Right.

- Make sure SOCOs get
a cast of the tread

before the rain washes
it away, right?

- Right away, Sarge.

Oscar Charlie, 43...

- What've you got for us, Mike?

- Well, I'll be doing a
full autopsy first thing

in the morning, but what
I've seen so far

doesn't make a great
deal of sense.

- Why?

In what way?

- Well, at first glance,

I could rattle off at least
two possible causes of death.

- Two?

- Strangulation and mutilation.

Is your boss okay?

- Yeah, he will be.

I still don't understand
how you swung this case.

- Matthew's death was
reported in Hammersmith,

within our jurisdiction.

With my personal knowledge
of schools like Bredgar Hall,

I argued it would be perverse
to give it to anyone else.

- My knowledge of schools like
Bredgar Hall is negligible,

bordering on none.

But I do believe
the comprehensive

in West Acton was
briefly twinned

with a privately operated
remand center in West Yorkshire.

- I wanted you here
because you'll come

to the school with fresh
eyes, without prejudice.

- Without prejudice?

Apart from my opinion
that a school system

based on dumping kids
with relative strangers

a million miles from home
is fundamentally rotten.

An opinion you will
leave at the school gates,

if you don't mind.

Opinion dumped, sir.

- The message couldn't
be clearer.

- Chas?
- Yes.

- With this little
demonstration,

the headmaster tells us we
may be New Scotland Yard,

but on his turf, he'll
see us when he's ready.

- What?

- Instead of coming to
meet us in person,

he dispatches one of
his senior prefects.

No doubt the Head Boy.

- You can't possibly
read so much into that!

- Chas Quilter, Head Boy.

- Detective Inspector
Lynley from Scotland Yard.

- Very pleased to meet you.

The headmaster sends
his apologies.

He's on the phone with the board

of governors about poor Matthew.

- Come along, Sergeant.

Chop, chop!

- Chop, chop, sir?
- Havers.

- You do realize any
authority I might have here

will be pissed to the wind
if you insist on treating me

like your nameless flunky?

- These kids are brought
up with hired help

lingering silently
in the background.

They're used to paying
them no mind,

dropping their guard
in front of them.

Understand?

- Yes, sir.

- I need you to be my eyes
and ears here, Sergeant.

As a female, you have
a special status

in a boys' boarding school.

I want you to use it.

I may even ask you to abuse it.

- This way, Inspector.

- Detective Inspector Lynley,

this is our school bursar,
Stephen Cowfrey-Pitt.

He used to be on the
teaching staff.

- Cowfrey-Pitt?
- No doubt the scumbag

responsible for this atrocity

has already crawled back
under his stone.

- Maybe not quite yet,
but certainly,

the faster we move,

the better chance we
have of finding him.

Paradise Lost!

- I'm sorry?

- You made an inscription
in the copy of Paradise Lost

that I found in bookshelf at
Matthew's home in Hammersmith.

- I occasionally may
gift the books

to the less advantaged
boys at Bredgar Hall.

- Would you excuse me?

I must make a call.

Chas, wait outside, will you?

Sue, yeah, yeah.

Though I'm loathe to, I think
I must reschedule my meeting

with the redevelopment
team this afternoon.

Apologize profusely,

say that something completely
unavoidable came up,

without specifying what.

We ought to be talking
about the tenders

for digging the foundations
ASAP,

so let's coordinate diaries
for, say, a week today?

Good, thank you.

The death of a child
overshadows all else, Inspector.

- At a school, I expect
it would, yes.

- It's a great setback
for the school.

- Not to mention the boy.

- So, how can we help you?

- I would like to start with
Matthew's room, if I may.

What he took with him,
what he left behind.

A diary, his notes.

Something, anything.

His point of departure should
be our first port of call.

- I've put Chas is
at your disposal.

- Can we rely on his discretion?

- Discretion is just one of
many admirable qualities.

Chas, would you show
the inspector

to Matthew Whateley's
dormitory, please?

- Certainly, sir.

- Thank you, Headmaster, Bursar.

Good of you to give
us your time, Chas.

- We're all deeply shocked
by this, Inspector.

I'm glad there's something
I can do to help.

- Daniels, shirt!
- Yeah, Chas, sorry.

- Tell me, your father
wouldn't be Francis Quilter QC?

- You know him?

- One of the few silks to
carry off the rare feat

of being highly respected

by both the criminal fraternity
and the police force.

- Everyone loves my father.

- Any thoughts of
following in his footsteps?

- I have a conditional place
at Trinity to read law.

Lot of hard graft before
that, though.

- Glad to see you're not
taking anything for granted.

- I'm bright, but I'm not
clever, if you know what I mean.

If I wanna get the
grades I need,

I'm gonna have to work
damn hard for them.

- Must be lots of boys with
successful fathers here.

- I should think at
6,000 pounds a term,

one could take that as
a given, Sergeant.

- But not Matthew Whateley's
father, sir.

- Sorry?

- His dad was a builder.

Hardly made Matthew one
of the boys, now would it?

- We do not discriminate
against anyone here

because of their background,
Sergeant.

If he's made it all
the way up here

from all the way down there,

well, that's all the more
reason to respect him, isn't it?

- Chas, it's a good read!

- Brian, this is Detective
Inspector Lynley and Sergeant...

I'm sorry, I didn't
catch your name.

- Havers, Detective
Sergeant Havers.

- Detective Sergeant Havers.

They're here about Matthew.

- He was very well liked,

even among us sixth
formers, which is unusual.

- In what way?

- At boarding school,

each year group is quite
self-contained.

Matthew was an unusual
boy, Inspector.

We all sincerely hope you
find whoever did this.

I'll be in chapel if you want
a spot of practice later.

- I'll come and find you.

- Nice to meet you.

- What I meant before.

I'm bright, he is
seriously clever.

This is Matthew's house, Erebus,

named after the primal darkness
that emerged after chaos,

quite apt when you see the state
of some of the boys' rooms.

Which it's the senior
house prefect's job

to keep under control,
isn't that right, Pritchard?

- Yes, rather a losing
battle, I'm afraid.

Coburn, Green, double biology
started five minutes ago.

Now go on.
- Yes, Pritchard.

- Sorry, Pritchard.
- Move.

Yes, I was just putting
up a notice actually

inviting the younger boys to
put an appointment with Matron

to help anxieties about
the last 24 hours.

They may want to talk them over.

- Before the hoards of
counselors descend.

- I was just about to the
inspector up to Matthew's room.

- No, no, I'll do that.

Matthew was in my house.

It sounds ridiculous,
but there's a part of me

that can't help but feel
I should have noticed

whatever it was that led
to poor Mattie running off.

- I'll wait for you
outside, Inspector.

- The senior boys have
their own rooms,

slightly less seniors share.

- Are you allowed
beer in school?

- Every Friday evening,

each sixth former is allowed
one small bottle, yes.

- Designed to avert more
serious secret consumption.

- Something like that.

This way.

Boys Whateley's age sleep
in dormitories,

three or four to a room.

This is Matthew's.

This one.

As you can see, Matthew
was a keen photographer.

- He was very good.
- Mmm.

The photographic society is run

by our housemaster,
John Corntel.

He teaches boys the basics

and then helps them develop
their prints in the darkroom.

Rather them than me.

- Sorry?

- Oh, Matthew was one of
the stars of the club.

- You discovered Matthew
missing at lights-out,

is that right?
- That's right.

- Is it usual for the prefects
to do the last-minute check?

In my day, it was always
the housemaster's job.

- Some housemasters
do, some don't.

- And John Corntel gives all
that responsibility to you?

- Mmm, yeah, I think he
feels more comfortable

letting house prefects do it.

- More comfortable?

- Not walking around
a house full

of half-dressed young
boys, miss.

- Really, and why is that?

- Probably for the same reason
he doesn't involve himself

in school trips away or PE.

- John Corntel happens to be
a very good friend of mine.

If you have anything to say
about his conduct at school,

now would be a good time
to come out and say it.

- I didn't mean to cause
offense, Inspector.

I was merely making
an observation.

- Thank you for your
assistance, Clive.

We can manage from here.

- I'll be downstairs
if you need me.

- What was that all about?

- Nothing like a bit of
schoolboy slander

to while away a dull
study period.

- Yeah, but, sir--
- I'll deal with it.

Now, we know Matthew disappeared

on Friday night without
permission.

Was he running away, or was he
sneaking out to meet someone?

- Okay, son...

Time to tell me all you know.

- A row of diaries at home,

nothing here covering
the last year.

Read back what we've got.

- A half-finished letter
to someone called Jeanie.

A missing school uniform,
missing school shoes,

and he seems to have
left his asthma inhaler.

- Suggesting?

- He left in a hurry.
- Or?

- Or he didn't think he
was gonna be gone long.

- He'd certainly be easier

to spot running away from
school wearing his uniform.

- Yeah, and leaving
his asthma inhaler

suggests he wasn't planning
on staying out

for any length of time.

- So, Matthew goes on a
little outing somewhere,

and is snatched either en
route or on his way back.

- Or when he arrived.

- Or when he arrived.

Any news back yet from the boys

on the tire tracks
in the lay-by?

- The Berskshire lads are
asking the locals if they saw

any heavy traffic stop off
in Stoke Poges last night.

We're still waiting
on the wider search,

My feeling is the lorry's
our best bet.

Plenty of gruesome precedent.

- Maybe...

Read that letter back again.

- Dear Jeanie, thank you
for dinner last Tuesday

and for dropping me
back at school.

Don't worry about how late I was

because the boy who saw
me can't say anything.

I hope the Colonel doesn't
mind me beating him at chess.

I've always been pretty
good at thinking ahead.

And that's as far as he gets.

- Perhaps he was going
to Jeanie's house

when he was picked up.

- Or perhaps he arrived
and Jeanie wasn't there.

The father was.

An old man who likes playing
games with little boys.

Things get out of hand?

- Speak to the boys
in Matthew's dorm.

Let's see if we can't knock
this running-away theory

on the head.

I'll find out who Jeanie is.

- Wouldn't it be better
if you spoke to them, sir,

this being a boys' school
run almost entirely by men?

- Women can encourage
boys to reveal things

they might not reveal to a man.

- Should I have brought
my rubber gloves, sir?

- Psychological things, Havers.

- Yes, sir.

- Inspector, my observations
earlier.

I'm sorry, I really
didn't mean to...

- Ah!

Ah, I thought I'd find
you here, Tommy.

- Sir, the boys in
Matthew's dorm,

how can I locate them quickly?

- John can tell you that.

- Of course--
- I have

every boy's timetable
right here.

I can have them waiting in
the library in 15 minutes.

- Thank you.

Edward Hsu,
scholar, friend.

- Sit there, Andrews.

- You know who I am?

- Speak up, boys.

- Police.

- I'd rather you regarded me

as someone who's
here to help find

who hurt your friend, Matthew.

What's your name?

- Morant, Miss.

- Where I come from
we use first names.

- Harry, Miss.

- Well, my name's Barbara.

Now, Harry...

we're trying to understand
what Matthew was doing

outside the school
yesterday evening.

We wondered if there was
anything going on in school

that may have made him
want to run away.

Can you think of
anything, Harry?

- Answer the police
sergeant, Morant.

- You don't have to answer
if you'd rather not.

- He's a little upset, Sergeant.

Harry and Matthew
were quite close.

- Just take your time.

There's no hurry.

- Yes, this is all a terrible
shock to them, Sergeant.

I think it would be kinder

if we brought the interview
to a close.

Don't you agree, Mr. Corntel?

- Yes.

It's all
right, Morant.

Go on.
- Yes, Pritchard.

- Thank you.
- Yes, will do.

- Sir, I found out who
Jeanie is from John Corntel.

Apparently, Matthew used

to visit a Jeanie and
Colonel Bonnamy

as part of the school's
community service program.

And it's run by the bursar,
Cowfrey-Pitt.

Oh, sorry.

- Good, well done.

- I was just saying--
- Yeah,

I got the Bonnamy's address.

I heard you.

We'll check it out later.
- Why not now?

- They've picked up
a lorry driver.

His route only took him within
three miles of the cemetery,

but his tire treats
match the cast

you had made in the lay-by.

- Any form?
- Well, apparently not,

but as my favorite instructor
used to say at Hendon,

you've never got form
until you're caught

for the first time.

Did you find out anything
from the boys?

- Er, not much.

One of them, Harry Morant,
started to cry.

I had to stop.

Apparently, he and
Matthew were pretty close.

- You can never tell
how something like this

will affect boys of that age.

- Sir, regarding Pritchard's
remarks about John Corntel...

- You're thinking there's
no smoke without fire?

- Well, I know he's a very
great friend of yours.

- I said I'd deal with
John and I will.

- I can smell that
from over here.

- No one comes into chapel
any more unless they have to,

including the chaplain.

- I could assume the
authority of my office

and grass you up.

- If I'm expelled, whose
going to cram you

through your A-levels,

and into your father's
glorious footsteps?

- Three months, Brian,
and we're out of here!

- I prefer to take it
one day at a time.

There's a little left
if you want some.

- Hardly my opiate of choice.

Brian.
- Mmm?

- Matthew Whateley.

- I'll lead, you just
do what you can not

to embarrass yourself.

- Shall I have first
crack at him, sir?

Me being a woman with the power

to make you lot reveal things.

- All you've demonstrated so
far, Havers, is the ability

to make a small boy cry
after a single question.

We'll do it together.

What are we dealing with?

A child murder, torture.

We're dealing with the
worst that there is.

When I come face to
face with these men,

I feel an overwhelming
sense of satisfaction

that I can do something,
shut them down,

stop them from inflicting
such misery

on anyone else ever again.

- Is that why you joined
the force, sir?

- Can you think of
a better reason?

- A few of the lads
back at the Yard

were convinced you had a
thing for women in uniform.

- Remind me never to bare my
soul to you again, Sergeant.

- Yes, sir.

Sorry, sir.

- All right, Barry,

let's go through this again
from the top, shall we?

- How many more times?

I didn't kill any boy.

I didn't see any boy.

- Then, why were you in
Stoke Poges last night?

It is not on your usual
route through Berkshire.

- I told you!

I was tired.

I wanted a bite to eat.

I thought I'd pull off

and find a nice little
country pub somewhere.

- Not because you know there's
a boys' boarding school

near Stoke Poges and you
thought you might try your hand

at a spot of fishing?

If you stopped off at a little
country pub, as you say,

why was your lorry parked
in an isolated lay-by,

some three quarters of a
mile from the nearest one?

- I already said.

After I had a bite to
eat, I needed a kip.

I'd been on the road all day!

- So you thought you'd
pull over for the night?

- Yeah.
- Climb into

your lorry driver's jim-jams,

pull closed the dinky
little curtain

on the inside of your
windscreen, go to bed?

- Yeah.
- And then,

almost immediately,
get up again?

- Yeah.
- Put on your jeans

and t-shirt, take a nice big
bite of chunky chocolate,

and then go on your merry way.

- Look, I didn't do this!

- You see, Barry...

my sergeant here is very
good at spotting liars.

She's won trophies for it.

The worse the liar,
the quieter she is.

If you notice, she hasn't
said a single word.

So why don't you do us all
a favor and stop lying.

- I thought you might
like to see this, sir.

- It's 11.27.

Myself, Sergeant Havers,
and Inspector Lynley

are now leaving the
interview room.

It's the
preliminary path report.

- Well, no signs consistent
with sexual abuse.

Bruising and pinch marks

on arms and legs made
prior to death.

Cigarette burns on
palms of hands

and soles of feet
made after death.

Cause of death, possible
strangulation?

- There's something
he's not telling us.

Well, if he's not guilty,
he'll open up soon enough.

- Just let him stew for a while.

- All right.

- You know, he didn't
stop fiddling

with his wedding
ring throughout.

- Begin.

- What's going on, sir?

- Looks like a rubbish trawl.

- I found a cigarette butt, sir.

- You don't have to tell me

every time you find
something, Arlens.

Just put it in the sack.

- Stop immediately!
- Someone's coming over, sir.

- Thank you, Arlens,
I have eyes.

- Stop, John!

- He's saying, "Stop,
John," sir.

- And ears, thank you, Arlens.

Stop!

- I'm gonna talk to John.

You check out the Bonnamys.

- You think the chess-playing,

dirty-old-man theory
really has legs?

- It's just about
staggering along

with the aid of a zimmer frame.

- Right, sir.

- They could be clearing
away vital evidence.

I'll get police supervision.

Nothing is to be destroyed.

Look, John, is there somewhere
we could speak in private?

- Yes.
- Hello.

Lynley here.

I need SOCO officers
onto the playing fields.

This brings back memories.

Have you
still got yours?

- Knocking about somewhere.

- To look at me now, you
wouldn't think I could run 10
feet,

let alone 10 miles
before breakfast.

We won everything that
year, you remember?

It was wonderful.

- It wasn't completely
wonderful.

- Your father's death.

It was truly awful.

- I've never forgotten what you
did for me that year, Johno.

I want you to know that.

- I was your friend.

- Not many friends pull
you back from the brink,

from the top of a 30-foot
wall you scaled

at two in the morning

drunk as a skunk, determined
to throw yourself off.

Well...

- Which only makes what I have

to ask now all the
more difficult.

- How suddenly serious
you sound.

- When I was asking
questions this morning,

someone made some pretty
unpleasant insinuations about
you.

- Oh, God!

I get so tired of
this, you know.

- Well, I have to ask.

Is there anything untoward
going on at the school, John,

that I'm going to
find out about?

- A boy's been murdered.

Quick, find the nearest poof.

Is that how policing in
the 21st century works?

- I have to ask.

- When I called yesterday,

I thought you were the
only person who could help.

- I have to ask.

- If you make me answer this,

our friendship will
never be the same.

You do understand that, Tommy?

- I am duty bound.

- I'm a gay man.

If I have a relationship,
it is with a gay man,

not with a boy, as you
well know, Inspector.

- This is Detective
Sergeant Havers, Father.

- Good afternoon.

You didn't tell me
she was a woman.

- I understand that
you and Matthew

struck up quite a friendship.

- We did.

- Was he very good at chess?

- Better than me,
that's for sure.

Despite the difference
in our age,

we were, in many respects,
fellow travelers.

Both low-born, both rising
in rank on merit alone.

Two street fighters,
Matthew and I.

- Did Matthew ever
mention any reason

for having to be a
fighter at Bredgar Hall?

- One way or another,
they're all fighting up there

against the mold their
parents are trying

to press them into.

The cloning room, I call it.

Matthew was more resilient
than most.

- If I could just pick
up on something you said.

You said that Mattie was
more resilient than most.

I keep getting the
sense from you

that Matthew was struggling

with something quite
considerable at the school.

- I saw a lot of it in
the Army, Sergeant.

I'm sure you must have seen
it in the police force.

- Seen what, Colonel?

- The new recruit
coming in fresh.

Belly full of Queen and country.

Does everything by the book.

Respects the rules.

Assumes everyone else
respects them too,

and then learns they don't.

Eventually sees something
in the barracks

it might be wiser
not to mention.

Having to decide
where they stand,

defining themselves
by their decision.

- Their decision?

- Be a good little soldier,
keep your head down,

or lift it up and stare
blatant injustice in the face.

A difficult enough moral dilemma

when you're 19 or 20, Sergeant.

Matthew Whateley was 13.

- Okay, boys, stand up, please.

As you were before.

Spread out.

- Come in.

- The police would like
a word, Bursar.

- Thank you.

Bursar, you deal with the
pupils' fees, is that right?

- Yes.

- There's something
that's been troubling me

since I visited Matthew's home.

- Which is?

- How on earth could he
possibly afford to come here?

This place must cost
parents, what,

between 15 and 20,000
pounds a year.

- Matthew was awarded
an exhibition.

- Not a full scholarship?

- A full scholarship
would cover all his fees.

An exhibition covers a third.

- That still leaves the
remaining two-thirds uncovered.

- I'm sorry, but how is
this remotely related

to Matthew's murder?

- Perhaps you could tell
me why it isn't?

- Parents who want to send
their children here badly enough

often manage to scrape
the fees together.

You'd be surprised.

- With Matthew's parents,
I'd be astonished.

What on earth are they doing?

I told them not to
destroy anything.

- It's just leaves.
- Burning black?

Matthew Whateley.

Havers, I want you
to follow through

on your hunch about Barry.

I think you may be right.

- There's a little boy
lying cold on a slab,

and all you can do
is keep twisting

that ring round and round?

- I didn't kill him.

- Really?

Then why were you parked
so far from the pub?

Why did you leave the
area in such a hurry?

Okay.

If you won't tell me,

perhaps you'll feel
happier telling your wife.

- She's here?
- She's on her way.

- Right, if...

If I tell you what I was doing

in that lay-by last night,
does she have to know?

- If it's nothing
illegal, Barry,

it doesn't have to go
beyond these four walls.

- Salad, Pritchard?

- All the steak and
kidney was gone.

- How was your day?

- Uh, not good.

- Me neither.

I couldn't teach
anything, really.

I just put on a video
about the Aswan dam

to take their minds
off, you know.

- Yeah.

So Barry picked up
a waitress at the Queens Arms

and took her half a mile
down the road for a quickie.

No wonder he didn't
want his wife finding out.

- The way Barry describes it,

it sounds like a regular
perk of the job.

I sent a constable to
speak to the girl

and she confirmed everything
he said.

- Good work, Havers.
- Thank you, sir.

So if Matthew wasn't
killed by Barry,

are we now saying with the
discovery of his clothes

that he was killed by
someone inside the school?

- He was last seen
alive inside the school,

and he was found dead
at Stoke Poges Cemetery.

Seems logical if his
clothes were found here,

he was killed here,
or hereabouts.

- That would certainly tie in

with what Colonel Bonnamy
was implying.

- Which was?

- Well, according to him,

he said that Matthew
was deeply troubled

by something that's
going on at school.

And I showed Jeanie
the letter we found

and I asked her about the
bit that Matthew wrote.

Don't worry, 'cause the boy
who saw me can't say anything.

Something struck me
about that phrase.

The boy who saw me
can't say anything.

I mean, not won't or
wouldn't, but can't.

- Why can't he, more to the
point, and who's the boy?

- Jeanie said it
was Chas Quilter.

- So, Matthew had
something on the Head Boy.

I wonder what.
- I don't know.

But if someone wanted to
frighten him into keeping quiet,

that would explain the bruising
on the body prior to death.

- Yeah, but he wouldn't keep
quiet, so they killed him.

- You all right,
Mr. Cowfrey-Pitt?

- I was just thinking what
a result it was for you,

Mr. Corntel, having an
old pal from Scotland Yard

come down to do the
investigation.

- A result?

- It would hardly enhance
your career if it transpires

that Matthew's death is in
any way related to your,

shall we say, relaxed
running of Erebus?

- Every housemaster has
their own style, Bursar.

- Anarchy isn't a style, Emilia.

Anarchy is style's
very antithesis.

- Have you been drinking?

- Go to hell!

- I dare say we'll all get
through this in our own way.

- I think we are all
aware what has happened

in the last 24 hours.

With a police investigation
under way,

now is not the time for speeches

or even for a few
words of regret.

Now is simply the time for us

to mark the loss of
one of our own.

I would ask you to stand for
a minute of silent respect.

- Cocky little sod!

- Who is that?

Who is that?

- It's Harry Morant, sir.

- Oh, my goodness!

This boy should go
to the sanatorium.

- I'll take him, miss.
- No, I'll do it.

- Don't you ever get tired
of shining so hard, Chas?

- Toxicology report's
just in, Mike.

Not strangulation.

Asphyxiation.
- Asphyxiation?

- Enough carbon monoxide
in the boy's blood

to kill a carthorse.

- Carry on, boys.

Take him to Matron.

Tell her to give him a
thorough examination.

- Hello?

It's the pathologist.

What have we got?

Right.

I should let you
know, Headmaster,

I'm calling in a
Home Office team

to check all boiler and gas
appliance in this school.

- You're what?
- Matthew Whateley died

of massive carbon monoxide
poisoning.

Any leak from school equipment,

whether deliberate
or accidental,

won't be difficult to trace.

I'll also need you to get
a SOCO team down here.

- Where will you be, sir?

- Around.

- Well, could you be
slightly more specific, sir?

- I'd rather not.

- Well, that's all right, then.

- John, you stupid, stupid fool!

- Haven't you heard of
knocking, Pritchard?

- Headmaster wants to
see you in his study.

- What for?
- I expect he'll tell you

when you get there, Chas.

Need to re-stock?
- I'm fine.

- Oh.

Just looking after
my best customer.

Off you go, then.

- It's leaking pretty
badly, Sergeant.

If you could completely
seal the room,

the CO build-up would
have been quick.

A small boy would be
dead in no time.

- Pritchard?

Pritchard?

You click your fingers and
I come running, Pritchard.

Now, what do you want?

Pritchard?

You.

What are you doing here?

- You think Pritchard asked

to meet you all the
way out here?

Why would you think that?

- Any conversation between us
came to an end in my rooms.

- Something's come up.
- Something else?

Do you know, I don't care?

Goodbye, Inspector Lynley.

- You lied to me, John.

- Where did you get that?

- You know where I got it.

The question is, what
does it mean?

- We need to know if you've
heard of anything taking place

that might be of, shall we
say, an unsavory nature?

- Anything, in other words, we
may need to be in a position

to deal with before
it becomes public.

- Unsavory nature, sir?

- Before it becomes public, sir?

- It's our duty to try and
limit the damage to the school.

- Yes, sir.
- Yes, sir.

- We all know that John
Corntel gives you

a pretty free rein
at Erebus, Clive.

- Sir?

- The extra bottles of
beer at the weekend

he turns a blind eye to.

The smoking in the
house common room.

- The question is what
might he receive in return?

- I cannot believe you
broke into my room

and ransacked my things.

- Bluster and inflamed
grievance won't do it this time.

This time, y investigation
needs a full

and satisfactory explanation.

- A full and satisfactory
explanation?

Satisfactory for whom, exactly?

- You told me one thing.

These photographs
tell me another.

Not a gay man having a
relationship with another gay
man,

but a schoolmaster
obsessed with a schoolboy.

- Obsessed?

Have you been in the
force so long,

you see everything through
the jaded eyes of a copper?

Not obsession, Tommy.

Love.

Love.

- Go on.

- His name was Hugh.

He joined the school
in the lower sixth,

after his parents had
been posted abroad,

and I took him for English.

Without engineering anything,

it was clear something
was developing between us.

But I was equally clear
that nothing.

Are you listening?

Nothing would happen while
he was a student here.

- Oh, come on, John.

There's pictures of him
lying naked in a hotel bed.

- Taken in the summer following
his first year at Oxford.

He was 20 years old.

God, straight man could
have fathered

half a dozen kids
by the same age

and no one would have
batted an eye!

- I didn't ask you here
to debate the issue.

- Maybe not.

But the real reason you're able

to ask me these questions at all

is because someone in my
position can still be destroyed

by a worm like Clive Pritchard.

- Again Clive Pritchard.

Why did you assume it was Clive
who told you to come here?

- Because he's the only one
who knew about me and Hugh,

a position of privilege
which he ruthlessly exploits

to his advantage.

- Do you expect me
to believe, John,

that someone like you are in
the pocket of someone like him?

- Do you imagine for one minute

I allow Pritchard the run
of Erebus out of choice?

- You kept your mouth shut.

Good move.

- What choice did I have?

- If I was to tell him
about your little addiction,

that would be you as a
barrister up in smoke.

- You parents must be so proud.

- Mutual assured destruction
kept the world safe

for 40 years, Chas.

- Safe and terrified.
- Works for me.

How's that?

- You and Matthew were
pretty close, weren't you?

Did you used to help each
other with your homework,

that sort of thing?

If I'd had someone to
help me with my homework,

maybe I wouldn't have ended
up in the police force.

Did, um, you and Matthew
ever share things?

Not like sweets and
books and stuff,

but I mean like secrets?

Or problems that either of you

might have been having
at school?

- I did.

Matthew did a bit.

- A bit?

- He'd tell you stuff about
schoolwork or a teacher

that was getting on his nerves,

but he kept the really
private stuff for his diary.

- His what?
- His diary.

- Well...

When we looked through
Matthew's things this morning,

we didn't find a diary.

- When he first came to Bredgar
Hall, Matthew wrote one.

Hopeless in a place like this,

'cause someone will just
find it and read it,

doesn't matter how good
your hiding place is.

Most boys give up within
a few weeks.

Matthew wasn't like most boys.

- If the boiler is leaking,

I'm telling you,
now, it's leaking

because it's been tampered with.

We trade on our heritage
here, Inspector,

we don't try and heat
the school with it.

There's simply no possible--
- What's more important,

to you Headmaster,

absolving the school
of any responsibility

or finding out who
killed Matthew Whateley?

- Thank you, Harry,
I'll see you later.

Sad little thing, isn't he?

- Harry found it very difficult

to adjust in the beginning.

He was picked on for
one reason or another.

I was so pleased when Matthew
took him under his wing.

- Will he be here long?

- I expect he'll be back in
the dorm before lights out.

- Thanks for your help.
- Not at all.

Come along, boys, come on.

- Well?
- Not here, sir.

Come there,
boys, let's go.

- Why all the cloak
and dagger stuff?

- I didn't think you'd want
it made common knowledge.

- What?
- What Harry told me.

- Well, how can I
tell you if I mind

unless you tell me what
Harry told you?

- Matthew kept a diary.

- We found nothing in his room.

- Not a written diary,
an oral one, on tape.

- I repeat, we found nothing...

- Sir?

- What is the safest place
to keep a private diary

about what goes on at school?

Try knocking again, Sergeant.

She might not have heard
it with all this rain.

- You do have hands, sir.

You can also knock.

- Indulge me.

I'm in the mood to delegate.

I'm coming.

It happened
again, sir.

It happened again as soon
as we turned the corner.

- A few dirty plates
piling up, Patsy.

- Plates?

- Do you mind if I have a go?

- Boys.

Everyone brushed their teeth?

- Yes, Pritchard.

- Yes, Pritchard.

- Morant?
- Yes, Pritchard.

- I didn't see you, Morant.

Go and do it again.

Lights out now, boys.

- You found them?

- He sent them disguised
as compilation music tapes

so Mum and Dad wouldn't
get curious.

- Intelligent and meticulous.

- Are we ready to leave?

- There's just the
cutlery to do.

If you dry, we'll be out
of here in two minutes.

- Everything okay?

- The carer must have gone home,
and, depending on her mood,

Mum won't answer the
phone in the dark.

- Why don't you pop
back for an hour,

make sure everything's OK?

You can catch a cab in later.

- No, I don't think so, sir.

- It only takes one set of
ears to listen to the tapes.

- I'll be fine.

I'm going
to take you back.

- Thank you, sir.

Mum?

Mum?

Oh, my God!

Mum!

Shh, shh, it's all right.

It's all right.

- I was looking for...

- What were you looking for?
- Something.

- Are you looking for Dad again?

- Was I?

- Dad's in the hospital,
Mum, remember?

- Hospital?

- Tuesday March the 3rd.
- Matthew, we meet at last.

- Had another letter from home.

Mum missing me as usual.

Dad's usual PS.

Strange to think they're
only 30 miles away.

Half an hour by car.

What's that, 3.5 minutes
by jumbo jet,

less than a minute by Concorde.

Harry dropped his plate in
the dining hall this evening.

Paradise copped the
detention for whooping.

I think Harry's got that
thing, like dyslexia,

only with objects.

I ran into him this evening
showing two new parents around.

He gave me a Saturday
morning detention,

but you could tell it was
for the parents' benefit.

I did my bit.

Sorry, sir.

Won't happen again, sir.

Happened again as soon
as he turned the corner.

Won't have to do the
detention either

'cause he didn't take my name.

Apart from Chas and
the other prefects,

I don't think he knows many
of the rest of the boys.

Brian calls him The Spiv
'cause he spends more time

with new parents and investors

than he ever spends
with the boys.

March the 10th.

Harry's other problem
is still continuing.

I thought of going to
see Mr. Corntel about it,

but he always tells you
to in house stuff

to the senior house
prefect first.

Well, I can't do that, so
I went to Chas Quilter,

who said to leave it with him.

I think Chas is the nicest
of all the prefects.

I can see why he's
Head Boy here.

Some people get power
and go mad with it.

Chas isn't like that.

He's going to Cambridge.

I'd like to go to
Cambridge one day,

but I don't know if
I'm clever enough.

I've been to see Chas
four times now.

Each time he tells me
he'll sort it out,

but it's never sorted out.

I don't care if he is a prefect.

What he's doing is wrong.

After talking to Colonel
Bonnamy about what I should do,

gave him a hypothetically
similar situation,

I've decided to tell Chas

about the recording I
made in the bathroom.

I can't think of any other
way to make him stop.

- What recording
in the bathroom?

I'll go to
the police if I have to.

- What recording you
made in the bathroom?

What record...?

There is no recording
in a bathroom!

Lynley.

When was the last
time he was seen?

Havers!

Havers!

Havers?

Harry Morant's disappeared
in the night.

Hey, slow down.

Wait for me.

- What more can I do?

Tell me where I find the hours,

the extra hours I can work
to get the school past this?

Show me!

Somebody show me how can
I move this institution

beyond the murder of
two of its pupils?

- One boy murdered.

One boy missing.

- If the circumstances
of Morant's disappearance

are almost identical
to Matthew's,

what makes you so confident
the outcome won't be?

- Why do you want the local
boys out in force, sir?

It's a change of tactics.

- I was just thinking.

Whoever's doing this is

like a kestrel plucking
mice out of a field.

And what is the best
way to catch a bird?

- Your lot generally
blast them to pieces

with a 12-bore, sir.

- Alive, Havers.

What do you do if you want
to catch a bird alive?

- A net, sir?
- A net, Havers.

- Sergeant Havers
to all units, bo!

- Help!

Help!

- On the board there, Sergeant.

- Would you mind telling
me the meaning of all this?

- If Harry Morant is alive
on the school grounds,

he'll hear our arrival

and know he hasn't been
abandoned to his fate.

Whoever abducted him and
killed Matthew will be left

in little doubt as to theirs.

- Help!

- All units in position
and ready to move, sir.

- Give the order, Sergeant.

- This is Havers to all units.

Move now.

- With all due respect,
Inspector, whatever has happened

over the past three days,

may I remind you this is
still a functioning school?

- Functioning?
- First and foremost,

Headmaster, this is a crime
scene from which no one

and I mean no one is allowed
to leave unless I say so.

Get a move on.

Come along!

You and you, with me.

- If you've got a key, use it.

If not, kick the door down.

- All right, quickly, come on.

- Quad drive blocked sir.

- I want to speak to Chas
Quilter as soon as possible.

- I'll send someone to
fetch him right away.

- Help.

- Arlens, bring me Chas Quilter.

Go on.
- Yes, sir.

- If you're seriously
suggesting that my Head Boy

is in any way mixed
up in all of this,

I'm sorry to say you're going
to look very silly indeed.

- I'll take that risk.

- Nothing in the cricket
pavilion, sir.

- Were you aware that
Matthew Whateley

repeatedly asked Chas Quilter
for help on a certain matter

in the weeks leading
up to his death?

Help that Quilter said
he'd repeatedly give,

but repeatedly didn't.
- On what matter?

- On a matter so important
to Matthew to resolve

that he was prepared to resort
to blackmail if necessary.

- Blackmail?

Search!

- In his diary,

Matthew describes finding Chas
snorting cocaine in his room.

- Cocaine?

- You weren't aware

that cocaine was being
used at the school?

- Of course not.

- Or that a senior prefect was
blackmailing his housemaster

into letting him run his house
as his own private fiefdom?

- What?
- Outhouses

and swimming pool complex
clear, sir.

- No, no, just hang on.

- Apart from income and
expense at Bredgar Hall,

what exactly were you aware of?

- I don't have to stand
here and listen to this.

Bursar, if I'm needed,
I'll be in my quarters.

- Yes, Headmaster.
- Inspector.

Sergeant.

- Oy!
- Watch where you're going.

- Arlens shouldn't be
long fetching Chas.

- While we were at the
Whateley's last night,

I rechecked the dates
of your inscription

on Matthew's copy
of Paradise Lost.

- So?

- Why would the Bursar
at Bredgar Hall

give a disadvantaged student
a book two years prior

to his becoming a pupil here?

- Chas?

Chas?

Chas!

- I knew Matthew before
he came to Bredgar Hall.

I used to teach his father.

- Tony Whateley came
to Bredgar Hall?

- Tony isn't Mattie's father.

Mattie's father was a
very gifted young man

by the name of Eddie Hsu.

- Eddie Hsu?

I know that name...

It was up on a plaque
in the library.

- Scholar, friend...

And father.

Eddie had a clandestine
affair with a local girl,

resulting in a pregnancy.

Being impeccably decent
and hopelessly unrealistic

about what was involved, he
wanted to give everything up

and stand by her.

Given the dazzling future
that lay before him,

that was simply out
of the question.

With not inconsiderable
financial inducement,

I managed to persuade the
girl to have a termination.

- The girl was Patsy Whateley?

- Yes.

The day she went up to London,
she sent Eddie a letter

explaining my help, and
begged his forgiveness.

Eddie was found dead
later that night.

His wrists slashed.

The overwhelming sense
of betrayal.

At his funeral, I decided I
was unfit to teach any more.

- Patsy had the baby.

- At the last minute,

she couldn't go through
with the termination.

I eventually found her...

Gave her money...

- To help bring up Matthew.

- How could I not?

- Admin and side blocks
cleared, sir.

- You paid for Matthew
to come to Bredgar Hall?

It was you who topped up
the remaining two thirds

of the fees.

- He had inherited his
father's intelligence

but it was being stifled
where he was.

Young Matthew was drowning.

It was my duty to throw
him a lifeline.

- It ended in his death.

- Sir!

Quilter's door's locked, sir,

but I could swear there
was someone inside.

- This way.

The door at the end.

Matthew
came to me as Head Boy.

Instead of doing what he had
every right to expect of me,

I thought only of what I stood
to lose, and did nothing.

I've tried so hard to fulfill
everyone's expectations of me,

but I've let the school down.

I have let my father
and family down.

But most of all,

I've let down Matthew
Whateley and Harry Morant.

May God forgive me.

Charles Quilter.

- We need some men over
here, Sergeant.

We've got a body in a
room needs sealing off.

- But I don't want
anyone connected

with the school knowing what's
happened until I say so.

Is that understood?
- Yes, sir.

- Mr. Cowfrey-Pitt.

Mr. Cowfrey-Pitt?

How many prefects are
there in Bredgar Hall?

- 16.

In total.

- I'd like to see
the remaining 15

in the school library
in 10 minutes.

- Could you tell Inspector
Lynley the post has just come?

It's something he'll
want to see.

- Shh...

- Right, listen, iff
you're not a prefect,

leave the library and
return to your form rooms.

Prefects, remain.

- George.
- Yeah?

- That's Calchus
House clear, sir.

- Out, out, Bush, come on.

- They know.

- Don't cack yourself,
Pritchard.

They can't know.

Where's Chas?

- I heard they took him
to the sanatorium.

Do you think he's said anything?

- They'd have to kill him first.

- What do you think
Patsy's package is, sir?

- Matthew's last tape.
- Another one?

- One he must have posted
just before he died.

The one someone killed him for.

- That's area three
cleared, sir.

Still no news on Harry Morant.

- We need a name.

A name will lead us
to Harry Morant.

Dirty Harry.

- Who are you?
- Dirty Harry.

- Why are you Dirty Harry?
- It's Harry Morant, sir.

Because I smell.

- What do you smell of?
- Please!

- What do you smell of?
- Please, Pritchard,

let me out.
- Pritchard!

Let's go.

- I smell of wee.
- Louder.

- Right, you're all free to go.

- What did I tell you?

- Except Clive Pritchard.

- Caution him, please, Sergeant.

John, I'd like you to stay.

- Yes.

- Pritchard has the right

to what's called an
appropriate adult present.

I can't think of anyone
more appropriate, can you?

Where is Harry Morant?
- I told you, I don't know.

- Clive, where's Harry Morant?

- Look...

Morant is one of those boys

who let the rest down
at every opportunity.

They have no discipline.

No guts, no character.

He couldn't even look
after himself.

It was up to me, as his
senior house prefect,

to do something about that.

Put some backbone into him.

- And you equate bullying
weaker boys

with character building, do you?

- Adversity is going to
be his life, Sergeant

I was teaching him
to live with it.

- Matthew made a tape

of you teaching Harry
his lessons, didn't he?

- Yes.
- And he told Chas

about that tape to
make you stop.

Or he'd hand the tape
over to the police.

Yes?
- Yes.

- To whom he would expose
not only your bullying,

but also Quilter's
cocaine habit.

Am I right?

Chas told you about the
tape to make you stop.

But Chas never really cut
any ice with you, did he?

And you weren't going

to be pushed around by little
squirts like Matthew Whateley,

so you went after
Matthew yourself

to get him to hand the
tape over to you.

When he refused, you went
to town on him for it.

Punching him.

Kicking him, yes?

Torturing him, yes?

- Yes, yes.

- When he still wouldn't give
you the tape, you panicked.

- No.

- Suddenly, you had a
boy on your hands known

for not shutting up, now
covered with bruises.

You do the next logical
thing, you kill him.

- No!

- With Matthew disposed
of, the only person

left to snitch on you
is the very person

Matthew lost his life
trying to protect.

So in the early hours
of the morning,

you take Harry Morant
from his bed

and have either disposed
of him already

or are keeping him somewhere

until you think it
is safe to do so.

Now, I'm not going to
ask you again, Clive.

Where is Harry Morant?

- Look, look...

You have to believe me.

Yes, I roughed up Whateley
over the tapes.

I took him to the fives
court after dark

and I tried to scare him.

But he wouldn't tell
me where it was,

so I threatened him and I
left him gagged and bound

for an hour to think it over.

When I came back, he was dead.

He was asthmatic.

He'd had an asthma attack
and suffocated,

but that doesn't make it murder.

- Matthew didn't die of
an asthma attack, Clive.

- He must have.

- Matthew died from
carbon monoxide poisoning.

- What?

- What do you mean,
you believe him?

- You saw his face when I
mentioned carbon monoxide.

I may as well have said
Matthew was run over

by a combine harvester.

- Cop for the small crimes
and you may just avoid having

to cop for the big one.

- I don't buy it.

He was genuinely alarmed.

Carbon monoxide was
something new,

something he had
no control over.

- If I go down, I'm not
going down alone.

- Save your breath, Clive.

I'm immune to you.

- Oh really?

- My resignation's on
the Headmaster's desk.

- What?

- I feel sorry for you, Clive.

- I don't want you to
feel anything for me.

- Whatever I am, I was
born that way, but you...

No one's born a vicious
twisted little sadist.

Someone or something has
turned you into that.

Which was it, Clive?

Someone or something?

- Oh, piss off.

- When I leave this school, I
hope I'm going to be missed.

With you, I think people
will just close their eyes

and try to forget.

- If Clive Pritchard
is to be believed,

we're left with the fact that
between Clive leaving him

in the fives courts
and coming back,

somehow Matthew died of
carbon monoxide poisoning.

- In the fives courts.

- The fives courts!

Fives is played on a court
similar to that of squash,

but without the back wall.

They are not enclosed,
consequently not susceptible

to the accidental build-up
of a poisonous gas,

but is where they keep
their school van.

So, if it
wasn't Clive Pritchard?

- Someone else wanted
Matthew Whateley silenced.

- Yeah, but we've already
established

that Matthew was only a threat

to Clive Pritchard
and Chas Quilter.

So if it wasn't Pritchard,
that only leaves Chas.

- Or someone who wanted
to protect him.

- Sir?

- Friendships at boarding
school are unique

like a comradeship between
people dependent on one another

for their very survival.

- You make it sound
like the army, sir.

- Precisely, Havers.

That's exactly the way it is.

Boys in dormitories,
living under strict rules

and codes of conduct.

Knowing who you can
or cannot rely on

in a crisis is vital.

- Help!

Help!

Help, I'm here.

Help!

- Who would it be for Chas?

Who would be prepared to do
anything, even commit murder,

to safeguard Chas's future?

- Sir, the van!

- They can't be looking to
leave, the drive's blocked.

- Well, whatever it is,
slowing down isn't it.

- Quick, Havers,
the school gate!

- What do you mean, "Quick,
Havers, the school gate!

He's in a bloody van!

We're not gonna make it.

- The road block won't stop him,

but might slow him down
while he summons courage

to go through it.

- Get behind the van.

We're gonna try and stop
him at the gate.

He's taken out two of our units.

Get the other two units now.

We need back up now!

I can't breathe.

- If we can just close the
gate before he gets there,

we may have a chance.

- Come on.

Oh, thank God.

Sir!

- You look after the boy.
- Right.

You all right?

- It's over, Brian.

You can stop now.

Chas is dead.

- Tell me that's not true.

- I wish I could.

I wish I could, but you of
all people know that I can't.

We found him in his
room this morning,

hanging from the water pipe.

Killing little Matthew didn't
free Chas, as you'd intended.

It simply added another
pressure to his life.

How much did Chas know
about what you tried

to do for him?
- Nothing.

It was my idea for Pritchard
to get the tape back,

but when he came upstairs

in a blind panic saying
Matthew was dead,

I couldn't believe it.

So I went down to the fives
courts to see for myself.

He wasn't dead, but
half-conscious.

He kept saying he was
gonna bring us all down.

Especially Chas.

He just wouldn't shut up.

That's when I had the
idea to put Matthew

in the van and connect
up the hose.

- And once he was dead,

you returned him to
the fives courts.

Then you went to get
Pritchard, confirming his fear,

laying it on thick that it was

in fact he who'd effectively
murdered Matthew.

Whose idea was it to
mutilate the body

and then cover it with paint?

- Pritchard.

He thought if we made it look

like a weird ritualistic
killing,

it would divert attention
from the school.

I didn't set out
to kill Matthew.

I just couldn't see
any other way.

- What about Harry Morant?

Was there no other
way for Harry?

- I didn't want to hurt him...

But there was no turning back!

No turning back...

- Not winking now, Clive.

Barbara Havers.

- It's too intense, John.

Life in these schools, closed
off from the outside world.

The pressure to succeed,
to conform.

To play by the rules.

And if you can't or won't

the consequences can be lethal.

- I agree.

- What are you going to do?

- Hmm?
- Another school?

- I think I've been in school
long enough, don't you?

Hiding from the real world

among the desks in class
and common room.

It's a nice life.

It's a good life.

But it's increasingly
felt like a small life.

- Good luck, John.

- Good luck to you, Tommy.

- Will you ever forgive me?

- If...

When I do, I'll send
you a postcard.

- I can't tell you how pleased
I'll be to leave this place.

- Could we just stop
for a minute, sir?

- Three days ago, it was all
I could do to drag you here,

and now you don't want to leave.

- I just had a call
from the hospital.

My dad died an hour ago.

- I'm sorry to hear
that, Barbara.

- Oh, we were never
close, but...

- Yes.

Yes, you said.

Nothing
I want to go into.