All language subtitles for Father Brown S13E04 The Crackpot and the Dummy1

The crackpot returns!

Come on, people.
Opening show tomorrow.

Oh, stop fussing.

Father Brown!

Uncle Mirth, it has been too long!

Oh, yes, indeed.

I hope you don't mind me popping in,
but I couldn't wait to say hello.

Oh, not at all, not at all.

And congratulations on your win at
the Star Variety Awards last month.

Lifetime Achievement.
Makes me feel very old.

Ahem, yeah.

Ladies and gentlemen,

it's... Plea... Pl...

How many more times? Louder!

Sorry, sorry. Ahem. Sorry.
Yeah, remember. Ahem.

Ladies and gentlemen, please, er...

..put your hands together
for the... For the...

The king of the jesters!
Uncle Mirth!

Before I forget, Father... Oh!

Uncle Mirth! Yes, yes.
Keep your wig on.

We'll speak later.

Mr Kafka.

There you go.

That dummy gives me the willies.

Isn't this marvellous?

With a smile like that,
you should be on stage.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

it's time for the crackpot...

Whoa, whoa!

What's that?

That's the cracked pot
you asked for!

Oh! Very funny.

Music, music, music...

# I'm a crackpot of the Em... #

Oh, Not that song again!

What's wrong with it?
It's not funny.

About as funny as Eric Gramby
sleeping with your wife.

That's right. Monique cheated on you
with that sleazy lowlife.

You thought you'd got away with it,
didn't you? But you hadn't.

And now it's payback time!

Uncle Mirth...

Did she really betray me?

I never met Monique.

She was after Margaret
but before Anabelle.

There have been a lot of women in my
life, I know, but she was the one.

You met in Paris?

Before the war.
It's where she's buried.

Did Eric Gramby know her well?

He took that.
He used to be a photographer.

Used to take publicity stills
of all the acts.

She was a dancer.

Where's Mr Kafka?
I left him just there.

He's behind you. Oh!

I've been mislaying things a lot
lately.

Are you taking your medication? Oh!

My niece Gwen reminds me every day.

Don't want to go back
to the madhouse.

What happened onstage?

It was almost as if...

..Mr Kafka had a mind of his own.

It was just one of his warped jokes.

I'll make sure
he sticks to his routine tomorrow.

We can't afford to cancel
due to him losing his marbles!

You promised me two shows a day.

Now, if that doesn't happen...

It will.

Look, I'll make sure
he's on top form.

You better. Ahem!

How is he, Father? He needs
some time on his own, I think.

The heavy workload
is taking its toll.

Everything all right?

Just a bit anxious.

My uncle hasn't been right
since we arrived in Wedlock.

I gave up being a comedienne
to be his agent.

Not his nurse.

Where's Eric?

Excuse me,
I'm just about to rehearse my act.

Would you mind being my foil?
Your what?

I'll do it!

I'm the President
of the Kembleford Players.

The underlined bits.

OK? Right.
Thank you. Thank you. Ahem!

Oh, madam, what a beautiful frock!

Yeah, I've seen
better dressed salads!

Oh, I've never been
so insulted in my life!

Yeah, well, stick around!
You know, it's... It's not early.

I mean, I mean...
It's still early!

Pathetic! Call yourself a comedian?

Poor Volker. My uncle said
he could have been a star.

Audiences loved him.

I was hoping to get Mirth
to do a few more shows.

I'm not sure he's up to it.

Guess where I've just been.

Not now.
Eric! Not now!

You better find your old form,

otherwise you can
kiss goodbye to your job.

And that goes for your
lodgings as well.

Hello. That comedy show
you mentioned in Wedlock?

I managed to get us tickets.

Oh! Lovely!

Cost me a small fortune, but..

Hang on, we've already
been given free tickets. What?

Oh, of course.
I'd completely forgotten.

Excellent.

I'd better get back.

Whoops. Edgar.

Oh, Miss Palmer,
can you make up the spare bedrooms?

Uncle Mirth and his niece
will be staying with us.

Their guesthouse is too noisy.

Right.

And I can keep an eye on him.

He is not himself.

He won't be bringing that dummy,
will he? I expect so.

Him and Mr Kafka are inseparable.

Oh. Can't wait.

Eric's turned you
into the cuckold king.

What you going to do about it?

Are you a man or a mouse?

Squeak!

Squeak! Squeak!

Look, you can either
accept the changes or not.

It's your choice.

My father was right.
You only married me for this place.

Well, you should have listened
to your daddy, then.

You disgust me. Do I?

Well, I mean, it's not like
you've got anything else to offer.

Mildred.

When my father was in charge,
we had a full house every night.

People used to ask for my autograph.

Ah. I'm sure you'll make
the theatre a success again

and make your father proud.

He begged me not to marry Eric.

How could I be so stupid?

Eric was a real charmer back then.

And now,
he's going to ruin everything.

Thank you, Father.

Oh! Oh!

You don't think
you might be overdoing it?

Heh! Probably.

Then perhaps you should
reduce your dates in Wedlock.

No. There's no need for that.

But he's exhausted.

He just needs some rest, that's all.

I'm sure you'll feel better
tomorrow.

Right. I'll take this inside,
if that's all right.

Yes. Of course.

Gwen means well, Father.

But YOU have to
think of YOUR health. I know, but...

..all the shows are sold out.

And I've promised Mildred
that I wouldn't let her down.

She was very good to me
when I first started out...

Is something the matter?
I've forgotten Mr Kafka.

I've got to go back to the theatre.

Well, you could always
get it tomorrow. No, no.

I hate being parted from him.

Oh, and I hate being near him.

I'll fetch him for you.
I'll drive you.

You stay here and settle in.
That's very kind of both of you.

We'll be back with Mr Kafka
before you know it. Thank you.

Father, can I help you?

Uncle Mirth left Mr Kafka.

Oh! It's probably in his
dressing room. Do go on through.

Father?

Blood?

His throat's been cut.

Looks like the murder weapon, sir.

Why was that left there?

Father! I told him
to stay at the presbytery.

Mr Kafka!

Who was that?

That was Uncle Mirth.

His two brothers were murdered
not far from here.

Murdered? By his nephew. It was
during Inspector Mallory's time.

Mr Kafka's gloves.

I knew there was something strange
about that dummy.

You don't think that maybe...?
What?

Well, he was possessed or something?

Miss Palmer, we're not about to
arrest a puppet for murder.

Inspector, will we be able
to go on with the show?

Mrs Gramby,

your husband has just been murdered.

She's still in shock.

If we have to close,
it'll be because of him,

and I promised my father
I'd never let that happen.

Can I ask where you were, sir,
between one and two o clock?

I was at the herbalist.

I always find that Chamomile
and lemon balm tisane

is rather good for stage nerves.

Right. Thank you.

And you, Mrs Gramby?

I was buying wine for the bar.

Are there any other
members of staff?

No. Had to let them go.

What about your whereabouts, miss?

Before going to the presbytery,
I was waiting in my car.

Waiting? For my uncle.

He was in his dressing room
taking off his make-up.

Ah. So he was the last one
to leave the theatre.

When I first found out
about the affair, I...

I thought about...killing Eric.

How did you find out?

It was about a week ago,
when I first came into Wedlock.

You probably won't believe me.

It was a love letter from years ago.

And this is Monique's handwriting?

Oh! I need a drink.

Looks like someone's wiped blood
off their hands, sir. It wasn't me.

And yet this is your dressing room?
Yes.

Your razor is missing.

I must have mislaid it.

Would that be a cut-throat
with a blue handle? Yes.

Like the one found by the body?

Perhaps the killer stole it.

Well, let's look at the facts
we DO have, shall we?

Last one to leave the theatre,

potential murder weapon
owned by you, and a clear motive.

I didn't kill Eric.

You were heard threatening him
onstage.

Well, it wasn't me who said that.
That was...

Looks like you're blaming
your puppet for everything.

Is that why you left it by the body,

blaming IT for the murder
that YOU committed? No!

I think I've heard enough,
Sergeant.

Julius Kirkov, I'm arresting you

on suspicion of the murder
of Eric Gramby.

Uncle Mirth has been arrested.

I know.

Without him, we don't have a show.

What are we going to do?

Don't know. What about you? Me?!

You used to be amazing. People
came from miles around to see you.

Oh, that was years ago!

What if you resurrected your old
routine and became the main act?

It'll be like before,
when it all started to go wrong.

Volker!

Oh, I'll dry onstage and
they'll start jeering and booing.

That's just your confidence.
You've still got talent.

No!

I can't do it.

Sorry, Mildred.

With or without your help,

I am not going to let this theatre
close!

Did Eric Gramby have any enemies?

Oh, too many to count.

Mildred seemed very upset with him.

Did she know about the affair?

I showed her the love letter.
It would have been wrong not to.

How did the letter
get into Mr Kafka's hands?

As I was leaving
the dressing room,

I noticed Eric's office door
was open,

and the contents of his
desk drawers all over the floor.

As if...

..Mr Kafka had been searching.

You think I'm mad.

I didn't do this, Father.
I really didn't.

I believe you.

You'll get me out of here,
won't you?

I will do everything I can.

Father.

To what do we owe the pleasure?

I'm here to see Miss Kirkov,
to keep her posted on her uncle.

Well, despite having more tickets
than we need,

looks like we won't be needing
any of them.

Well, probably a lucky escape.

Even before he was arrested,
Uncle Mirth seemed quite unstable.

As for Kount Volker, I mean...

..I saw him compere a charity show
a while ago... Edgar.

..he just wasn't funny. He even
dried onstage. Quite sad, really.

Why did Eric Gramby

just leave an incriminating love
letter from Monique in the desk?

Mildred's coming.

Mrs Gramby. Father.

I was hoping to talk to everyone...
about what happened.

Of course.

Mrs Sullivan, you mentioned you're
a member of the Kembleford Players.

The President.

Would you be willing
to step in and help?

Absolutely!
But without Uncle Mirth...

Oh, it's my intention
to find a replacement.

Just going to call in some favours.

Well, I'll be more than happy
to take on any role! Good!

Well, if you would be able
to wait in the auditorium,

I'll speak to you shortly. Right.

Mrs Gramby, I couldn't help noticing

the atmosphere
between you and Mr Gramby.

I know Uncle Mirth
told you about the letter.

It wasn't about that.

If you must know, I'd just found out
the truth from our solicitor.

The truth?

I unknowingly
signed the theatre over to Eric.

He put the papers in
with some invoices I was signing.

As the new owner, he'd be able
to sell it if anything gets worse.

You were swindled by your husband.

My grandfather built this theatre,
and my father left it to me!

Am I right in thinking that,
as Mr Gramby's widow,

you are the sole beneficiary
of his will?

Yes. Does Kount Volker know that?

I've mentioned it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Father,
I have to find a new star act.

We open tomorrow.

But why bring it back here?
We said we'd return it

to Uncle Mirth's niece
when we were done.

Its gloves are still at the lab.

Can't help thinking
it's behind the killing.

Well, this little chap's
certainly got form.

He nearly killed Mrs McCarthy.
You what?

Yeah. She pricked herself
on poisoned needles.

They were hidden inside his body.
Oh. Really?

Very nasty, it was. Very nasty.

Anyway, I'll leave the two of you
to have fun.

Yeah. Bye!

You don't scare me.

You're just a dummy.

Whoa!

Are you sure you're all right
making your own way back? Of course.

Oh.

I'm very sorry
if my husband offended you earlier.

That's all right.

Bye. I saw your act many years ago,
on a double bill with Uncle Mirth.

You were extremely amusing.

I owe him a lot.

It was him who actually
came up with my stage name.

Did he? After the infamous Volker
family who bankrolled the Nazis.

He thought it would be funny.

Yes, well, Uncle Mirth always
did have a UNIQUE sense of humour.

Didn't he call his dog Mussolini?
Yes.

He said you were
the only comic funnier than him.

Uncle Mirth said that?

He did.

And that there was a film producer
interested in you.

Oh, that was 20 years ago.

Ahem.

I wanted to talk to you
about Mrs Gramby.

She said you knew
she would re-inherit the theatre

on Mr Gramby's death.

Yes.

So, now she IS the owner,

you are free of the threat
of eviction and the sack.

Father, Eric didn't mean
what he said to me.

No?
He was always threatening people.

But when he WAS the owner, he
could've made good on his threats.

Father, I live in the basement,

and this job doesn't pay very much.

It's hardly worth killing for.

No.

I just want an explanation.

Thank you for your time.

Did you mean what you said
about Uncle Mirth?

Yes, he said you were
the true king of jesters.

We've taken statements
from everyone at the theatre.

General consensus is that
you behave as if Mr Kafka is real,

often using him as your scapegoat.

So, is there anything more
you want to tell me?

Very well. You were the last one
to leave the theatre,

removing your make-up, you said.
Then what?

Did you go straight to
your niece's car?

Or did you
go looking for Eric Gramby?

You can't remember!

You're going to hell!

Hell! Hell!

I want to see Father Brown.

You've already spoken to him.

I want to tell him something new.
Something important.

I can't breathe!

There. Oh! Thank you.

When Mildred asked me to help out,
I thought she meant onstage.

Well, there'll be other shows.
She's always looking for new talent.

Especially women. Really?

Versatile actresses
are so hard to come by.

If you'd like
to take your seat, madam.

Number turty-tree is over dere.

Mrs Sullivan? Oh,
I'm just brushing up on my accents.

I love performing.

Oh. I owe you an apology.

I won't be needing you after all.

Oh. It was silly of me to think
I could find a star act in time.

Nobody's available. I'm sorry.

Is there anything I can do?

Didn't you used to be a comedienne?

My uncle taught me his act.
I know it off by heart.

I'm grasping at straws.

The audience wouldn't accept
a relative newcomer,

especially as the main act.

No.

I've let my father down.

This is it. End of the theatre.

Prepare to be entertained
and enchanted!

Titillated and enraptured!

Exhilarated and elated!

That's part of your old act.

I've decided to revive it,
like you said.

Oh, Volker, thank you!

We haven't got much time,
but I know we can do it.

What changed your mind?

Divine intervention.

How did you get there?

Apologies, Miss Palmer.

Just popped back to fetch Mr Kafka.

Uncle Mirth wants to see him
at the police station.

Father, that dummy
started laughing on its own.

See, I told you.

It's called a laughing box.

Oh! Heh!

Right.

So who do you think's the killer?

Well, Mrs Gramby
stands to re-inherit the theatre.

And Eric threatened Volker
with the sack and eviction.

But are either of them
capable of murder?

What do you think?

Oh! Hmm.

So after I've flicked up the
house lights for the interval...

Straight into the bar
and serve the drinks. Got it!

"A glass of Beaujolais, madame?"

"Will that be all, my lover,
or would you like something else?"

Are you all right?

Sorry! Just any excuse
to exercise the old vocal cords.

Right.

Is the compere role
too much for you?

No. But if we could go over
some jokes tonight...

'Tis the fate of the Volkers

They say we're all bonkers!

More energy.

Remember, you are the star act.

The star act. Star act.

Have you seen that doctor?
I'm sure he came this way!

I'd like to pull his head off

For making me insane!

He's getting there.

Ah!

Do you think he'll be ready?

He has to be.

Thank you.

Just Father Brown, please.

If he says anything incriminating,
I want to know.

I'm scared, Father Brown.

I'm scared I'm going to hell.

I keep going through it in my mind
and...

..I think I may be the killer.

Why do you say that?

Well, when Gwen was waiting for me
in the car outside the theatre,

there's a... There's a period
of time which I can't account for.

What if I killed Eric
and I blocked it out?

Or perhaps you went to sleep.

Exhaustion. You said yourself,
the tour had made you very tired.

Why did you ask me
to bring Mr Kafka?

To say goodbye.

In case the worst happens.

I may be spared the noose,
but I couldn't survive prison.

Or the asylum.

Uncle Mirth,
I will find the real killer.

He's lying!

He's the one that had you committed
the first time!

Remember all the electric shocks?
All down to him!

Give him to me.

Don't trust him!

He just wants to lock you back up
in the madhouse!

Kill him. Kill him!

Shut up! Shut up!
Kill him!

Shut up! Shut up!
Kill him!

He needs transferring
to a mental hospital.

Miss Kirkov.

I was worried about you.

Sorry. I was at Mildred's.

Your uncle has had a breakdown.

He's being taken
to the mental hospital.

Oh, no.

I should have taken your advice.

I should have cancelled
some of the shows.

Why did you insist
he do all the Wedlock dates?

Was Mr Gramby pressurising you
in some way?

You seemed nervous around him.

I...

I just didn't like him.

Apologies, Father,
but I really need to go to bed.

There were green streaks
on your uncle's shirt cuffs.

I saw when you were fastening them
at the theatre.

Were those marks perhaps
from your fingernails?

Probably. I'd only just
painted them. But what of it?

Uncle Mirth said it seemed as if

Mr Kafka had been rummaging through
Eric Gramby's drawers,

but it was you.

There were green marks
on the documents in the drawer.

The same colour as your nail polish.
Father...

What were you looking for?
Monique's letter?

No.

It was just a package.
But I couldn't find it, so...

A package that was very important
to you.

Uncle Mirth said Eric Gramby
was a photographer -

used to take publicity shots
of the acts.

The photographs
Eric took of me were...

He said if I didn't make sure

that my uncle did a long run
at the theatre...

..he'd make them public.

And after the outburst onstage,

you were worried that he was too ill
to complete his engagement.

Well, yes.
So Eric Gramby's threat

became a horrifying possibility.

Surely you don't think that I...

I'm just trying to get
a clear picture.

I want to help your uncle.

Father, please don't tell anyone
about the photographs.

If my family knew...

I'm so ashamed.

Whatever happened,
it was not your fault.

But I could have said no.

You were young.
Eric Gramby took advantage of that.

If anyone's to blame, it's him.

Hey-hey-hey! Oh, yes, look at this!

Have a look at the merchandise.
What do you think?

It's a nice bit of smatter, isn't
it? I bet you'd like one of these,

madam. You'd look good in this,
wouldn't you?

I went to the doctor's, didn't I?
I did. He said,

"I haven't seen you in a while."
I said "No, I've been ill."

Anyway, yes.
"I want a word with you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you."

"What do you want a word about?"

"Well, it's going to be
more than one word,

"because I tell you this,
I don't like you. Watch this."

Ah!

"Right! Ow!"

"Right, I warned you!"

"What you going to do with that?"

"I'm going to hit myself!"

Volker!

That was truly marvellous.

I've been rehearsing
since five o'clock this morning.

Such dedication.
I've had a thought.

Maybe I could enter through
the trap door like I used to.

Good idea.

Mrs Sullivan,
I have one other job for you.

I need you
to operate the follow-spot.

Oh!
Ooh, that sounds a bit technical.

I really don't think...
Can we rehearse my opening now?

Yes. Now, onstage.

Uncle Mirth's sanity is slipping
away. I'm running out of time.

Thought you could do with a brew.

You should have seen his face
when they took him away.

What if he did kill Eric?

No.

He didn't.

Something wrong with my tea?

This letter isn't old...

..it's a forgery.

Paper stained with tea
to make it look old.

It's a forger's trick.

So Monique didn't really
have an affair? No.

Someone sent this letter
to make Uncle Mirth jealous.

So he'd have a motive for murder?

Exactly.

But it wouldn't have been enough
to tip him over the edge.

That is significantly lighter
in colour

than what he was given in the cell.
It's been watered down.

But we still don't know

how the killer knew what
Monique's handwriting looked like.

Uncle Mirth said
he was always mislaying things.

Where are you off to?
I need to check on something.

But the show will be starting soon.

I'll meet you at the theatre. Oh!

Yes.

Ten-minute call to performance.

Father Brown.

Ah. Kount Volker.

You wrote the fake love letter
from Monique to Eric.

There was a message on the back
of Monique's photograph,

so you stole it,
copied the handwriting,,

and then returned it.

You're not serious?

You used the paper from your joke
notepad with the rounded corners

and then you stained it with tea.

Well, what if I did write it?
Doesn't mean that I killed Eric.

But only the real murderer
would seek to frame someone else.

Believe me,
you cannot live with this.

You don't know the half of it.

Uncle Mirth said
you could have been a star.

What stopped you? Was it Eric?

Is that why you killed him?

Ahem. He deserved what he got.

You made sure
I stayed here in this fleapit.

I'm a businessman.
I did what I had to do.

Years of working for a pittance,

living down there
like some cellar rat.

Please! Spare me the theatrics.

Face facts -
you're a washed-up clown.

Whatever I am, it's you're doing.

You ground me down,
took away my confidence.

Stop whining
and just go and clean the stalls!

The days of you telling me
what to do are over.

Goodbye, Eric.

The life I could have had.
Up there with the screen greats!

Keaton and Chaplin.

Uncle Mirth said something
about a film producer.

Yeah. He wanted
to put me in the movies,

but suddenly changed his mind
and left.

I assume Eric got to him?

He lied.

Said I was related
to the infamous Volker family.

The family
that bankrolled the Nazis.

So he painted you as a fascist?

That was just
so he could keep me here,

making sure I kept
the audiences coming in.

And you found out
about this recently?

The producer
was at the awards ceremony.

He was presenting Uncle Mirth with
his Lifetime Achievement award.

I begged him to tell me
what happened.

So you diluted
Uncle Mirth's medication

and waited until he snapped,

then you were free
to kill Eric Granby.

Then you wiped
the dummy's hands in his blood.

Crazy old Uncle Mirth -
always blaming Mr Kafka.

He was your friend.

Uncle Mirth! Huh!

Always top of the bill.

But I was the funny one.
But he became famous!

That should've been me!

You know that this is wrong.

You cannot let him hang.

And if you confess,
God will forgive you.

God? He's no better than Eric!

Standing by while I rotted away
in this place. But no more!

I've been given a second chance!

The spotlight finally back on me!

Yeah. Yeah.

Unless you repent,
you will never have any peace.

Enough! You need to be silenced.

Permanently!

Over here.

Back! And up.

Welcome to Wedlock Theatre.

This afternoon's star comedian,

reprising his award-winning routine,

will be Kount Volker!

Murderer!
Murderer! Murderer!

It's payback time!

You can't arrest me!
I'm the star act!

Constable, put him in.

The show's ended
before it's even started.

With Uncle Mirth
taking his medication undiluted,

he will be back before you know it.

Miss Kirkov,

thank you
for your timely intervention.

It wasn't just me.

Ladies and gentleman,

get ready for the zaniest,
craziest jester of them all!

Ooh!

The only Uncle Mirth!

Oh, don't listen to her.
I'm the star of the act, not you!

Oh, quiet!

Well, its lovely to be here
in Wedlock...

..amongst so many old friends!
No offence.

Hey, don't forget
our newer friends.

Oh, yes, anybody you got in mind,
particularly?

Well, what about Inspector Sullivan?

Oh, Inspector Sullivan! Yes.

Is he here anywhere?
Stand up and give us a wave.

Go on!

Ah, there you are!
Give him a round of applause!

Why...? Why...?

Why does a detective bring a pencil
to interrogate a suspect?

I don't know. Why?

So he can draw
his own conclusions!

I've just realised,
we haven't sung the song.

Oh, not the song, no!
I can't stand the song!

No, we'll sing the song.

# I'm a

# Crackpot of the Empire

# I'm mad as a hatter

# I'm hooky, cooky, loopy, looney

# I'm a crackpot of the Empire! #

So what would you order
for your tea?

Great green greasy goosegogs!

Hang on a second,
gooseberries are not greasy.

They are when you
smother them in "gutter"!

You were incredible. Oh!

After what happened, I really
thought we may have to close.

Your father
would've been proud of you.

I'm going to stay on after the run,

just to make sure
the place is viable.

If that's all right.
Of course it is!

You look like you need a drink, sir.
You can say that again.

I'll get them in.

Ahem, excuse me.

Don't tell my wife, but you are,
without a doubt,

the most attractive waitress
I've ever seen.

Flattery won't get you a free drink.

But it will get you one of these.

I think these negatives
belong to you.

Thank you.

Father, I can't thank you enough
for everything you've done.

Where's Mr Kafka?

Oh, he's in the case.

Always likes to take a nap
after a show. Sweet dreams.

Let me out of here!
Oh, it's dark!

Please let me out! I'm so lonely!

Please! Let me out!

Subtitles corrected by DB