Original subtitles

It is said that if you tell the truth,

it becomes part of your past.

If you tell a lie, it becomes part of your future.

- But lying is not only done

with words, but also with silence.

And on the subject of her mother's

mysterious disappearance, those closest to Matilda,

have been the most silent of all.

Whatever the reasons behind their silence,

Jane, Beth, and Cat Stone have always feared the events

surrounding their sister's disappearance

would one day come to light.

For even the smallest of lies

requires a bodyguard of bigger lies to protect it.

And that there would come a time when,

- however hard they tried...

...even they would be unable to protect Matilda

from the truth.

Kippers.

Yum. Thank you.

From George?

Maybe.

You've been seeing a lot of him recently.

Have I?

Yeah, I suppose I have.

- Morning.

Thanks for running the shop today, Cat.

Oh, well, how hard can it be?

Ready?

Stupid question, but...why?

Sound props.

You can't record an audio book without sound effects.

Mm.

The recording booth at Heritage House

has great acoustics.

I cut my first demo there.

And your last.

They banned her after that.

I paid for the damage.

Eventually.

I never liked the place.

They used to make us go there for school trips all the time.

I think it's creepy.

Oh, I don't know,

I always thought Heritage House was quite quaint.

In truth, Matilda and her aunt Jane were both correct.

For Wildemarsh Heritage House has a reputation

for being both quaint and creepy.

Thanks in no small part to its world famous collection

of memorabilia, dedicated to the great American writer,

Edgar Allan Poe.

"I knew that sound well, too.

It was the beating of the old man's heart.

It increased my fury as the beating of a drum

stimulates the soldier into courage."

So wrote Edgar Allan Poe in his seminal work,

"The Tell-Tale Heart", the original manuscript

for which you can see on display behind me.

Don't touch that.

It's very sharp.

Now, where was I?

Hey! That's my space.

That's not very polite.

Ladies.

Would you mind signing my petition?

I'm trying to force the council to reverse their decision

to sell "The Tell-Tale Heart."

You're wasting your time with that dumb petition, Vicky.

The auctioneers are coming to collect

"The Tell-Tale Heart" tomorrow whether you like it or not.

Not if I have anything to do with it, they won't.

It's time you faced reality.

Heritage House is struggling.

A slice of Poe memorabilia like that's got to be worth

half a million dollars.

Without that money, this place will close within a year.

Philistine.

Oh, who?

- Jane.

Professor Rhineheart, that's who.

The Professor Rhineheart?

World famous author of "Poe, The Man, The Enigma?"

He's over here studying "The Tell-Tale Heart"

for the sequel.

Don't tell me. "Poe, The Man, the Enigma 2."

I wish I could say you were wrong.

The man's an idiot.

He's been flying around the world

researching his new book for a decade.

How he's got to where he is is anyone's guess.

Victoria Durrell, librarian.

Beth Stone.

Sorry I'm late, Victoria. My alarm didn't go off.

This is Oliver, our new volunteer.

Oliver, I need you to show our guests

to the recording booth.

What? Oh.

Yes, of course. Uh...

Please, follow me.

- Other way. - Is it?

Oh. Sorry.

This way. Sorry.

Here we are.

Do you want me to show you how to work the mixing desk?

You know?

I'm a retired civil servant not a deejay.

But, uh, I think I can sort it out.

Thanks. We'll take it from here.

Are you sure?

Oh, well, let me know if you need anything.

- Thanks. - Thank you.

Bye.

Right, I'll ready the props, you cue up the recording.

As Beth and Jane Stone began work on Jane's audio book,

precisely 2 miles, 304 yards away,

PC Foster began to realize that his chances

of a romantic relationship with Matilda

were diminishing by the day.

This was just delivered to the front desk.

For, although he had long harbored feelings

for Matilda, it was clearer now...

It's a present from George.

...maybe more than ever,

that he had long since missed the boat.

Isn't it beautiful?

Yes.

Beautiful.

"The Attenborough Equivalency", by Jane Stone.

Chapter one.

The call came in at 2:00 a.m.

Gunfire heard coming from the Ferguson residence.

Our Detective Inspector Lambert and his partner

D.S. Keegan were first on the scene.

- The sound of their feet

on the gravel drive enough to scare away the starlings...

who had recently taken up

-...residence on the lawn.

"How do we know the caller's telling the truth?

This could be a setup," carped D.S. Keegan

in his Highland drawl.

Setup or not...

-...Lambert knew that even

the gravest of lies hid an element of truth,

and it was their job to uncover it.

Camera drones! Quick!

Where's the umbrella for the drones?

Oh, I thought you packed it.

There's probably one in lost property.

I'll go and ask.

- Delivery.

Oh, yeah, could you just put them down there?

Yeah. Sure.

- Thanks. - Thanks.

Sorry.

Uh, yeah, Karen was just, uh,

helping me with the...

If you say so.

Uh, Robin Brunswick, Heritage Director.

Uh, this is Karen Freedman,

our hygiene maintenance coordinator.

I'm the cleaner.

- Beth Stone. - Oh, the author? Yes.

I heard a rumor you and your sister would be in this week.

Beth is Wildemarsh's most famous resident author.

Don't suppose you could direct me to lost property.

Oh, there's one at the front desk.

Thanks. Nice to meet you both.

We're having farewell drinks later for "The Tell-Tale Heart."

We'd be honored if you'd join us.

Poe room 5:00.

Thanks. I'll see you there.

Yeah.

I'm collecting names to stop the council

from selling off the town's copy of "The Tell-Tale Heart."

Oh, yeah. Sign me up.

Here we go.

Do you mind putting one of those in the window in support?

Sure.

As well as collecting names for her petition,

librarian Victoria Durrell also collected books,

books that she didn't always feel the need to pay for.

- There we go. - Thank you.

- Bye bye. - Okay, bye.

If the arrival of Daniel and Natasha's

wedding invitation filled Matilda with a torrent

of emotions, the upcoming departure of Heritage House's

precious Poe manuscript

was causing more than a trickle of regret among its staff.

I see your friend Victoria is boycotting the proceedings.

Sally Capstan, archivist, tour guide, children's author.

Victoria tells me you own a bookshop.

Murder Ink, on the high street.

Then may I present you with a complimentary copy

of my debut novel, "Poe, Poe, Poe Your Boat."

It's a children's biography of Edgar Allan Poe.

I'm offering it to local retailers at a discount.

What's going on?

Rob's about to give a speech.

Henry, night security guard.

Can I have everyone's attention, please?

Well, it's a sad day for all of us, hm?

Not only are we saying adiós to our dear friend,

Professor Rhineheart, but also to our treasured Poe manuscript,

"The Tell-Tale Heart."

It's a great loss for all of us, but a necessary one.

And I'd like to add, it's been an enormous privilege

working with such esteemed colleagues these past few weeks.

So, as a token of my appreciation,

gifts for everyone.

Ladies.

Thank you.

Henry.

Cheers.

And, yes, I have personally signed every copy.

- Oh. - Meaning you can't exchange it.

Right. As I was saying,

before Professor Rhineheart's generous interruption,

I have been reassured that the money from the sale

of the manuscript will ensure our future

for many years to come.

So, with that in mind, I'd like you all to raise your glasses,

and I'd like to make a toast.

To "The Tell-Tale Heart."

-"The Tell-Tale Heart." -"The Tell-Tale Heart."

But I told you before, Mum,

fish paste sandwiches and sushi aren't the same thing.

Well, yeah, it's made of fish.

And yeah it's cold, but...

All units, be on the look out for a blue saloon.

Driver reported to have threatened a member

of the public with a baseball bat.

Registration -- B700 VCS.

Over.

Mum, I've got to go.

And thanks for the jelly pot.

This is happening.

Oi!

Sir. Stop!

Pull over!

I hope you have probable cause to stop me, officer.

I was well within the legal speed limit.

Well, a man driving a car matching this description

was accused of threatening a member of the public

with a baseball bat.

I don't even own a baseball bat.

- What? - I'm going to need you to

accompany me to the station.

No, you can't do this.

Step out of the car, please, sir.

I have to be somewhere.

P.C. Foster to base. Suspect apprehended.

- Backup requested. - Alright, alright.

No need for that.

I'll come quietly.

As Oliver McGorrie prepared to face hours

of scrutiny over his apparent interest in baseball,

Jane Stone was settling down for some late night reading

about an American obsession of a more literary kind.

Oh! You're in early.

Oh, I didn't get a chance

to clear up after last night's drinks.

Do you want a hand with your bag?

No, no! No, I'm fine.

Thank you.

Odd.

The alarm should come on when I open the door.

I have to type in a key code to make it stop.

Look.

I've got a bad feeling about this.

A turn up for the book is an oft used phrase

- to denote surprise.

Henry?

But in this instance, it can also be taken literally.

The manuscript.

The item turning up for the book, being...

A solitary black feather.

Thanks, Terry. I'll meet you there.

- Breakfast? - I can't stay.

There's been a break in at Heritage House.

Someone's stolen "The Tell-Tale Heart."

What?

The manuscript was due to be collected today

by the auctioneers.

- Coincidence? - Maybe.

But I'm more interested in what the thief left behind.

Which was what?

A solitary black feather.

Just like the one in mum's safe deposit box.

See you later.

Although Matilda was yet to appreciate

the true significance of the solitary black feather,

her aunts couldn't help but fear the truth

was now closer to the surface than at any time

since her mother's disappearance.

We've got to get down there.

I can't believe they're back.

Who?

The Raven.

It was a cat burglar who terrorized Wildemarsh for years.

What makes you think it's the same person?

Well, there's a power cut to the building,

rope used to gain entry, plus they used a solitary

black feather as a calling card.

Were they ever caught?

Not that I remember.

Burglaries stopped. They weren't heard from again.

When was this?

25 years ago.

The same time, thought Matilda,

that her beloved mother, Eleanor, went missing.

Excuse me one moment.

What are you doing here?

Recording Jane's audio book.

The why isn't Cat at the shop?

Well, I was, um...

giving Jane a hand.

Wasn't I, Jane?

Hm?

Yes, whatever you say.

In which case, I won't keep you.

Oh.

Can anyone else hear an odd ticking?

What if the Raven is back?

- Impossible. - I agree.

The rope, the feather, anyone could have staged that.

Well, how do we tell Matilda that?

There's only one way.

We have to find out who really stole that manuscript.

The security office will have a plan of the building.

I want to see how else the thief could have got in.

Come on.

Alright mate. Can you remember your name?

Do you remember what happened?

What's going on?

Oh.

Someone beat Henry up last night and stole the manuscript.

Damn police!

- Anything? - Clean.

Same as the display case.

Power supply to the building?

As you suspected, cut to disable the alarm.

It's all very professional.

Sarge, see that man down there?

I arrested him yesterday evening.

A member of public rang in to say that he threatened them

with a baseball bat.

Did you charge him?

I found a bat in his car, but we couldn't trace the caller.

We had to release him in the end.

What time was this?

I took him down the station around 7:00.

Custody sergeant was forced to release him around 1:00 a.m.

Oh, it has to be here somewhere.

He's got a camp bed in here.

Looks like someone enjoys sleeping on the job.

What's his name again? I'm sure I've seen him before.

Henry Wade.

Henry Wade?

Jane, are you okay? You don't seem yourself.

Mm. Ever since we got here this morning, I've felt really odd.

I'm saying nothing.

Oh, no, not my usual odd.

This is like an itch I can't scratch.

- Right, found it. - Oh.

This doesn't make sense.

If the power to the alarm was disconnected,

why come in the skylight?

I mean, breaking in through the rear doors

would have been much easier.

Plus, the real Raven only used the skylight

when there was no alternative.

What do you think, Jane?

Jane?

Look out below.

I was monitoring the cameras in the office

when the power went out.

What time was that?

Around 9:30.

Did the rounds.

Everything looked fine.

Then I heard a noise, and before I knew what happened

someone hit me over the head.

Did you get a look at who did it?

No. It all happened so fast.

By the time I came round, it was the morning

and I was bound and gagged.

Sorry.

I really need to get this.

Yeah.

Yes?

No, I'm stuck at work.

No, I'm fine.

Take your sister to school for me.

There's some money in the kitchen jar for lunch.

No. Nothing to worry about.

Love you.

Everything okay?

Yeah.

My eldest.

Since Alison left, it's just been me and the kids.

You keep yawning.

I'm on it.

I'm taking him to hospital for a scan.

Can never be too careful with concussion.

In you pop.

Really? I'm fine.

It's not a request.

Let me help.

Hands and feet.

I'll see you around, Sergeant.

Don't worry, we'll have you home by lunchtime.

It's all so upsetting.

I'm going to need you to do a stock-take

to make sure no more books or other items have been taken.

But that could take weeks.

We haven't done an audit in years.

I'm sorry, Sergeant.

I thought you ought to know that the professor

didn't turn up this morning.

Who?

Professor Rhineheart.

Horrible, Ivy League know it all.

I rang the hotel.

They said he went out last night but he never returned.

Sarge?

There's something wrong with your Aunt Jane.

Will you please keep still and listen?

I can hear something, so everyone be quiet.

Listen.

Something is not right.

Why can't any of you hear it?

- What's she talking about? - Oh, don't ask.

She's been like this all morning.

Shouldn't we do something?

We've always found it best to let her work

these things out for herself.

I knew something wasn't right.

Despite her Aunt Jane's relief

at discovering the source of her audible anomaly,

it was the health and welfare of the pocket watch's owner

that was uppermost Matilda's thoughts.

Oh.

Professor Rhineheart?

What have we got?

Professor Titus Rhineheart, visiting American academic.

He was here researching the stolen manuscript

for his latest book.

Cause of death?

Appears to be a form of blunt force trauma to the head.

Natasha?

Wedding list? What color?

Uh, the red ones?

No? Okay, you choose.

I am trying to be helpful.

What did Oliver McGorrie say he did before he volunteered here?

Civil servant. Why?

Either of you notice how he and Inspector Thorne

share the same body language?

Why are your aunts here, Stone?

Recording an audio book, sir.

Aunt Jane's the one who found the body.

Oh. Course she did.

I love you, too.

Sorry.

Sorry about that.

Putting the body inside the clock

prevented the pendulum from swinging.

I take it that is the time of death?

Yes.

I'd say death occurred somewhere between

9:00 p.m. and midnight.

Same time as the break-in?

What was the victim doing here that time of night?

Robin Brunswick, Heritage Director,

gave him special permission to stay late.

So, thief breaks in, discovers Rhineheart's still here,

fight breaks out, thief kills Rhineheart,

and makes off with the manuscript.

That's the working hypothesis, sir.

I want all the staff re-interviewed, and timelines

established for everyone's whereabouts last night.

Sir.

Natasha?

Table decorations?

No, I haven't rung the florist yet.

Uh, you choose.

I am trying to be helpful.

Nightmare.

I'll meet you back at the recording booth.

Why, where are you going?

To do some digging on Henry Wade.

Sir, have you ever heard of the Raven?

The poem by Edgar Allan Poe?

The house thief who operated around Wildemarsh 25 years ago.

Part of their M.O. was to leave behind a solitary black feather

at the scene of a crime.

25 years is a lifetime ago, Sergeant.

I was going to ask P.C. Foster to dig out the old police files.

I can, uh... I can do that if you like.

Thank you, sir.

We better at least make it look like we're working.

I'll set up the deck, you make the coffee.

Mm-hmm.

What have you got there?

The cleaner, Karen. She's left this card behind.

Oh, we're out of coffee.

But I saw some in the security office.

Back in a sec.

As Beth Stone reflected on Karen's

carelessness in leaving such a secret letter

of affection unguarded, Cat Stone was about

to uncover Henry Wade's most carefully guarded secret.

I'm looking for Henry Wade.

You from the social?

Kylie, give me my dolly back.

Kylie, give Britney her dolly back.

I won't tell you again.

Who is it you're looking for again?

Henry Wade.

Never heard of him.

Yeah. Hi. I'd like to organize a return on an order.

Got it!

And while Jane Stone was considering

the unusual aroma of the coffee she had borrowed

from Henry Wade's office, 2 miles, 427 yards away,

Inspector Thorne was praying that Matilda didn't smell a rat.

A burst water pipe?

Borough HQ said it happened a few years ago.

Destroyed hundreds of old files,

including everything on your so-called Raven.

- Oh.

Yes. Very unfortunate, but nothing we can do about it.

Best let it lie.

There's a Karen Freedman in reception.

Says it's urgent.

Karen, how can I help?

I should have said something earlier.

I didn't want to say anything in front of the others.

Go on.

I'm out on license.

I was recently released from prison

after serving 10 years for killing my husband.

Oh, well, thank you for letting me know.

No, you don't understand.

I didn't just kill my husband. I killed Professor Rhineheart.

She's lying.

I know because I killed Professor Rhineheart.

You haven't seen Karen about, have you?

I've been looking everywhere.

What?

Robin and Karen have both confessed

to being Rhineheart's killer.

- Together? - Separately.

They each rang to say they were going to the police station

to confess.

Tell me what happened last night.

It was around half 9:00.

I was just finishing up when the lights went out.

I thought I heard Henry, the security guard,

in the Poe room, so I went to find him.

That's when I saw the first of two masked men.

Two masked men?

Well, I grabbed one,

but the other escaped up the rope with the manuscript.

Then what happened?

He was stronger than I thought. I guess I must have panicked.

I grabbed a metal candlestick,

and I hit him over the head...hard.

I picked up a bronze bust of Edgar Allan Poe,

and I cracked it over his head.

I knew straightaway I'd killed him.

Did you know it was Professor Rhineheart?

Not until I took off his mask.

When I saw who it was, I panicked.

I hid him in the grandfather clock, and I went home.

So, why confess now?

I thought I could live with what I'd done, but I can't.

So, why confess now?

With my record,

I knew you'd figure it was me sooner or later.

So, which one of them do you believe?

Neither confession seemed

very convincing to me, sir.

One thing's for sure, they can't both be telling the truth.

What if neither of them are?

- What are you doing back here? - Sorry, sir.

She sort of slipped past when I wasn't looking.

This had better be important.

I found a card to Karen Freedman from Robin Brunswick.

"To my darling Karen, you once said you'd do anything for me.

Believe me when I say I would do the same.

Love you always, Rob."

You're suggesting they both mistakenly think the other

murdered Professor Rhineheart

and they're trying to take the rap for each other?

It's a possibility.

Dr. Lynch?

Matilda? I was hoping you'd ring.

Professor Rhineheart's post-mortem,

have you completed it yet?

Uh, yes. I'm typing up my notes now.

What can you tell me about the head wound?

The fatal blow was to the base of the victim's skull,

caused by an upward impact

with a sharp angled three sided object.

So, not by someone hitting them over the head?

No. I'd say the victim almost certainly fell backwards

on to the corner of the display case.

So they are both lying.

Thanks.

As she waited for her sister's return,

Jane Stone couldn't help but compare the dense prose

of Professor Rhineheart's famous Poe biography

with the rhyming couplets of

Sally Capstan's lesser known work.

Never, she thought, had two authors

taken such different approaches to the same subject.

Although, reading Sally Capstan's biog,

she noted how the pair had at least one thing in common.

One very important thing

that neither had sought to mention.

Curious.

Why didn't you tell anyone that you and Professor Rhineheart

knew each other?

We...didn't.

Not before this week.

You interned at Hargreaves Auction House

in New York at the same time as the Professor worked there

consulting on rare books.

It's complicated.

I shouldn't be telling you this.

Because it'll incriminate you?

Because I signed a non-disclosure agreement.

Before I went to uni, I interned at Hargreaves for the summer.

I'm so sorry. Do go on.

I was assigned to assist Professor Rhineheart.

I was archiving records of a private sale

of a rare 1840 reprint of Poe's first work,

"Tamerlane and Other Poems."

The book was verified as being authentic by the professor,

but I knew for a fact "Tamerlane and Other Poems"

had never been republished during Poe's lifetime.

The auction house sold a fake.

- Did you report it? - Straight away.

But Rhineheart and the auction house wanted it all kept quiet.

They made me sign an NDA.

Said if I uttered a word, they'd sue.

I didn't like the professor, but I swear,

I had nothing to do with his death.

Karen!

Rob?

I went to the restaurant, and you weren't there,

and then I heard about the murder and --

The restaurant? I went to the pub.

And when you didn't turn up and I learned about the murder,

I thought that --

It's all right. It's over now.

You're lucky I don't book you both for wasting police time.

We're sorry, Inspector.

What Inspector Thorne wanted to say next was...

How I envy you both, the bravery to embrace true love,

to take that first leap into the unknown,

to say to another, "I love you."

To say those words out loud and mean them,

without care of rejection or ridicule.

I fear my heart's not that strong.

I fear those words of love once spoken,

if not returned in kind, would be my last.

But what he chose to say was...

Clear off, the pair of you, before I change my mind.

While Karen Freedman and Robin Brunswick's

confessions had failed to shine a light on who really did kill

Professor Rhineheart, tour guide Sally Capstan

had lit upon evidence she hoped would be of a more

financially beneficial kind.

Yes, I've got the proof.

It's going to cost you.

Meet me in the Embittered Hack in half an hour.

Evening, Aunt Jane.

Hm?

Oh! evening, Matty.

You ever heard stories of a local cat burglar

known as the Raven?

Well, I can't say that I have.

You need to speak to Sally Capstan.

She worked at Hargreaves, New York?

She interned for Professor Rhineheart.

It's odd that she never mentioned it.

Are you okay? You keep yawning.

I am really tired for some reason.

I'm going to get an early night.

Night.

Night, Aunt Jane.

Despite Matilda having spent many happy hours

curled up in a corner of her Aunt Jane's bookshop,

devouring the myriad of crime fiction novels

that lined the shops aging shelves...

...a real life murder had never darkened the shop's door...

until now.

I swear I had nothing to do with his death.

Professor Rhineheart?

Hello?

Sally?

What's all the noise?