Original subtitles

Fact or fiction?

Fiction or fact? Fact or fiction? Fiction or fact?

Fact.

Fact.

Fiction. Fiction.

They eat people up, don't they?

And what have you come as?

Lena Pavlov, the Russian detective created by Osric Wolf.

Fans like to dress up as their favourite characters.

Welcome to my annual crime -writing weekend, Murder With Tea.

And this year, there will be a special award...

for the best crime novel written by Cotswolds' writer.

And it's in honour of the great whodunit novelist, Osric Wolfe, who very sadly

took his own life a year ago today.

As well as the Quill of Osric Award, there will be a very generous cash prize

£75, kindly donated by my friend, the Earl of Wiltshire.

And in the meantime, there will be quizzes and readings for your

so please do enjoy.

Sir Kingsley, congratulations on your Cabinet appointment.

I was hoping for defence, but education will suffice for now.

I hope it doesn't mean you've stopped writing.

I'll have a large glass of red wine, please.

You are?

I'm not a waitress.

Oh, my mistake.

I understand your son is nominated for the Quill of Osric Award.

Yes. I haven't read his new book yet, but I damn well hope it's better than

last. I finished it last night.

I thought it was excellent.

Thank you, Father.

Oh, Lady Violet.

Kingsley? As radiant as ever.

How are you?

Well, I'm somewhat surprised.

At the nomination of that so -called writer that you sponsor.

Conflict of interest?

Not at all.

Judges are impartial and independent.

Really?

Well, if your boy wins, we'll all know why.

Come on, Jack.

You are going to do a reading.

I'm not sure... Don't be so spineless.

With that attitude, you'll never be a winner.

Sorry? At your age, I was on the bestseller list.

I know, but the thing is... And now look at me.

Knighted, government minister.

In a few years, I could be running the country.

You think so?

Absolutely.

It's all about this.

Positive thinking.

Two minutes.

I want you on that stage.

Still under Daddy's shadow.

Please can we not do this?

This is a competition for talented writers.

Might as well go home now.

Nikki Byers. How good of you to honour the memory of Osric Wolfe.

Oh, well, he was the first ever writer I sponsored.

I knew he'd become a recluse, but I had no idea of the depth of his melancholy.

Oh, it's awful.

And such a shame he was denied a Catholic burial. I know it's rarely seen

sin, but it... I don't know, it just seemed so unfair.

Uh, ladies and gentlemen, Jack Wilmot will shortly read an extract from his

latest novel, The Eye of Lycos.

Oh, darling, look at your tie.

Please don't be angry, but I just heard Jack is the new favourite.

Walter. Oh, my God. I'm so sorry. Oh, not to worry. I drink far too much

Can I just say how wonderful it is you've named the award after the great

Wolves? Why, please!

With warts on every finger.

and a head of flaming red hair.

The child was a target for bullies.

Is it any wonder that later in life the desire for justice would become all

-consuming?

In the holier -than -thou town, deceit and lies corrupted all, none more so

the Baroness. By night, the air in her chamber was heavy with lust.

The French ambassador, the bishop, and the postmaster.

being regular frequented it's just a little racy for me um

by day um

jack

you

get back in there i'm sorry i know i messed up but it won't happen again

You've done this again!

Such a silly boy. He keeps losing his nerve on stage.

I hope he's all right.

And what paper are you from?

Sorry? Well, ever since my cabinet appointment, you lot have been sniffing

around for a salacious story. I was hoping for a chat about your son.

I'm a literary agent.

What company?

Darcy and Fenn.

Miss Lipton.

My apologies.

I wonder whether I could take your details.

Jack's agent is useless.

Do you have a copy of his novel?

Yes, of course. This way.

What exactly is your game?

Hmm? Game?

But the reading, are you deliberately trying to humiliate me?

It's just fiction. Oh, really?

It's just an extract from my novel. I don't know what this is about. I'm

you. You do not want to make an enemy of me.

They say it's his best novel.

What do you think?

It's just I'm thinking of representing the author for the more interesting...

No, no, about him!

Oh, not again.

Sorry. If this continues, I shall go home smelling like a winery.

I take it you're not a fan of Jack Wilmot?

He only got published because Daddy's a famous writer.

Oh, father.

I hope he hasn't had another go at his son.

There's been a murder!

It's started again.

A murder mystery.

In one of Osric Worf's lesser -known stories, the lady of the manor is

So the suspects are the husband, the butler, the chef, the milkman,

or the chauffeur.

I think I've got it.

The clues are all there.

Could be the milkman.

What do you think?

How would she know?

Miss Palmer.

Um... Well... The old dear probably just dropped the milk when

she was attacked.

And that blood on her neck's too dark.

Looks more like beetroot.

Well spotted.

Sir, my guess is that the chef had been preparing beetroot with his hands when

he strangled her. Oh, you're very good at this. Absolutely right.

Where is Mr Wood?

He hasn't come back out.

I think I'll check how he is.

He treats him like a toddler.

Who? Well, if you took your glasses off, you'll see.

Sir Kingsley, a moment, please.

There was a chain dangling from Jack's waistcoat. Did he own a pocket watch?

Yes, yes, he did. Do you think whoever attacked him stole it?

Possibly. Would Jack have been carrying any other valuables?

Well, only his wallet.

There was no wallet on his person, sir.

Sorry, there have been tramps sleeping in the outworldings recently.

Thank you, Lady Violet.

Well, looks like the motive could have been robbery.

I disagree.

That was a violent attack.

Someone tried to kill him.

A crime at a crime -raising event.

Well, there's no way he can resist that.

We need to find out if Mr. Wilmot remembers anything about his attacker.

Oh, well...

I saw Lady Violet threaten him earlier.

Threaten? Yeah.

Something about humiliating her. I'm not exactly sure, though.

Maybe Mr Wilmot can shed some light.

We'll look for clues while you're gone.

Hello.

Hi. Sir Kingsley mentioned a literary agent who was interested in Jack Wilmot.

It's Miss Lipton.

Thank you. Well, would you mind pointing her out to me?

Um...

I can't see her, but I'll let you know if I spot her.

Thank you.

Your detective costume really suits you, by the way.

Thank you.

I

can't

work out if she's your mum or not.

She's a patron of the arts.

What?

She supports me.

Pays for things.

Oh, blimey.

You've got it made.

You reckon?

Mm -mm.

Where I grew up, I had no... But at least I could do what I wanted.

Temporary amnesia, the doctor says.

He can't remember a thing.

He'll come back when he's awake.

Hello, Father.

Sergeant, I was parting.

Yes, this is a police investigation, Father. I suggest you leave now.

Unbelievable.

Let's get back to the manor.

Why pretend to be asleep?

Sorry.

It's just, if my father knows I'm awake, he'll make me go back.

And you don't want to.

Not after what happened.

It must be difficult being the son of a famous novelist.

No matter what I do, it's...

It's just never good enough.

I don't know what to do anymore, Father.

What do you remember about the attack?

Nothing.

It's all blank.

The police think that your wallet and watch were stolen.

My wallet's in my overcoat in the car, and...

The watch is not worth much.

No?

It was the first prize I ever won for writing.

I was a student at Gloucester.

So why would someone want to take it?

And I'm told Lady Violet threatened you.

That was nothing to do with the watch.

She accused me of...

Humiliating her made no sense.

The next murder mystery game is about to begin.

The missing corpse.

The killer chef has struck again.

We can win this.

We're meant to be looking for clues to the attack.

Yeah, we can do both.

Ladies and gentlemen, for your safety...

All participants should remain in pairs or groups.

Right, sir. We've interviewed everyone except that agent, Miss Lipton.

She still can't be found, sir.

We need to... That looks like blood, sir. No, actually, it's pretend blood.

Tomato sauce.

For the murder mystery game.

Of course.

Isabel. Hello.

I'm just looking for clues.

Well, if you find anything, I'd appreciate if you told me before...

Father Brown.

Sorry. I don't want to put you in an awkward position.

Oh, any position is fine by me.

To kill a chef.

Which means the missing corpse could be caught.

There's another one.

I've just been to see Mr. Wilmot.

How is he?

Doing well.

Although a little confused as to why you threatened him.

Regrettably, I did overreact.

But Jack did break the rules.

Rules? Well, I informed all the writers that any readings must be tasteful.

Jack's extract was delicious, to say the least. I didn't know where to look.

I see.

Oh, really, Father, you don't believe that I... The Quill of Oswick Award.

It's Peter Stoblin.

Chief Inspector!

Where now?

Boller the stream.

You go left, I'll go right.

But let's keep each other in sight.

Sergeant.

I think you should look for the award close to where Mr. Wilmot was found.

You think it was used to attack him?

You know more than you're letting on, Father.

Well.

Both the watch and the award were literary prizes.

The one Mr. Wilmot won, the other his favourite to win.

Oh, goodness, no, it's a re -enactment.

Well done, Sergeant.

Oh, goodness.

I'm so sorry. Are you all right?

attack while we're on the premises, Sergeant.

Miss Lipton hadn't been seen for a while.

She may have been attacked before you arrived.

So do you think the attacker wanted to kill his victims or just hurt them?

What links her to Mr. Wilmot?

Why attack those two?

Perhaps one of the whodunit characters is targeting random guests.

And who would take a worthless watch?

I hope you're not too distressed by the attack, Mrs Devine. Oh, no, I'm fine.

It was Brenda who saw Miss Lipson first, and... Well, she doesn't seem too

worried.

Come on, get out of bed.

What for? Just do it!

Now, towards me.

Touch your toes.

Is this really this?

Yeah, you seem fine.

I might have a delayed concussion. Oh, mindset of a loser.

Remember what I said.

Positive thinking.

Yeah. Staying away is not an option. Don't want people thinking you've got

something to hide, do we?

Father Brown would like you to sign a copy of your novel.

Sure.

Thank you.

Your tie and handkerchief.

Do I recognise the colours of Gloucester University?

Yeah. Am I right in thinking...

Mr. Wilmot also studied at Gloucester University.

Yes, they were there at the same time.

Oh, dear.

Then you would have lost out to him when he won the student literary prize.

I was cheated, robbed of the award.

Walter was tipped to win.

But why this sudden interest, Father?

I was thinking.

You have a very close connection to Mr. Wilmot's watch.

Are you accusing me?

Just pointing out that it has a very particular value to you.

Walter.

Walter.

Did you take it?

No.

Perhaps you should empty your pockets.

Now.

Have we met?

Miss Lipton.

The agent.

My father mentioned you.

I was attacked like you.

Someone hit me. I didn't see who.

I don't understand.

Why us two?

I was hoping you could tell me.

Writers can sometimes be targets.

Do you think it could have something to do with your novel?

It's just a story.

A novel is much more than that. It's a writer revealing their thoughts, their

identity.

Can't you remember anything at all?

No.

I know it's not how men should be.

I'm scared.

I'm scared about what they might do next.

Yeah, me too.

I took it from his pocket when he arrived.

Settling a score.

I wanted to get back at him.

Hurt him.

It should have been mine.

Sorry. Found it in the grass by the stream.

Blood.

Do you think this award should belong to you too?

Jack Wilmot's favourite.

You must have been livid that he might beat you again.

Yes. But that doesn't mean I wanted him dead.

Perhaps the prize money was also a factor.

When Lady Violet and I came in the room, you turned off the radio.

Crosses the line first and Durley Dean in second.

Mint Sunrise crosses in third. What a sensational comeback.

Have you started again?

I'm sorry.

My plan was to win back the prize money and clear my debt.

I fell apart because of Jack.

Arrest him, Sergeant.

I swear, I'm innocent.

I just don't know what to think anymore.

Chief Inspector, he clearly had a grudge against Mr. Wilmot.

But what on earth would be his motive for attacking Miss Lipton?

Not your concern, Father.

Walter Mitford, I'm arresting your suspicion of attempted murder and

You're not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say may be given in

evidence.

And there you are.

What are you reading?

Lady Violet's events programme.

Oh, he's got that look again.

My uncle, I used to have that look.

When he couldn't go to the lobby.

Lovely.

Interesting.

Interviews with the nominated writers, including Walter.

He mentions all the literary agencies that rejected him, one being Darcy and

Fenn. The agency Miss Lipton works for.

Do you think that's why he clobbered her?

It's hardly a motive.

Writers get dozens of rejections every year.

Maybe Walter was right, and he really is innocent.

In which case, the attacker is still out there.

In which case, Mr Wilmot and Miss Lipton are in more danger than

ever.

Welcome to day two.

Miss Lipton, it's so good to see you out of hospital.

After what happened, I assumed most guests would have stayed away.

Oh, a chance for crime fans to be part of a real -life crime. No, they wouldn't

miss it for the world.

So good to see you.

Miss Lipton, I was hoping to speak with you about your distressing experience.

There's very little I can tell you.

Do you think that Walter Mitford is guilty of attacking you?

I've no idea. We've barely even spoken.

What about anybody else? Someone with a grudge, perhaps?

If you want the truth, Father, it's beyond me why anyone would.

It doesn't make sense.

No.

So now what?

I see Mr. Wilmot has got his watch back.

Why was Walter so convinced that he should have won it?

Yes.

Why?

For God's sake, keep it together.

And don't go too far.

I'll find us a cup of tea.

Hello again.

Sorry.

Miles away.

I just wanted to say thank you for listening.

Is there something wrong?

You read in the papers about attackers and murderers, but you never think

come face to face with one.

Maybe when all of this is over, we should meet up.

I mean to, uh, to, uh, go over some things more.

It could help us both.

Yes. Yes, I'd like that.

Jack!

Oh!

Will you spare me the sermon?

Actually, I'm here to find out the truth.

Really?

You said you were cheated out of the prize watch.

Did you mean that literally?

I couldn't prove it, but there were rumours that Jack's mini -story was

from an out -of -print book.

Do you think he's capable of doing something like that again?

His new novel's just too good.

Why didn't you tell this to the police?

Accusing Jack of cheating would have given them what they wanted, an even

stronger motive.

Rumours.

What happened about them?

His father got involved and all magically went away.

Wait.

Sir Kingsley was privy to his son cheating at university.

Ladies and gentlemen, the judges have made their decision.

And so, without further ado, the Quill of Osric Award nominees are... James

Lansford for The Return of Lulu and Lucia.

Uncle Murph.

for Goodbye, Mr Kafka.

Jack Wilmot for The Eye of Lycos.

And Walter Mitford for The Stiletto Dagger.

And the winner is... Jack Wilmot.

What are you waiting for?

Unfortunately, the award is in the possession of the police due to... It

splattered with bush.

due to its need for their inquiries, but I am able to present the prize money to

the very worthy winner.

It's a great honour to win this award, and a

big thank you to everyone who enjoyed my novel.

Oh, steady now.

Sit him down.

He's just a little overwhelmed.

Your son is still suffering from his injury.

That's getting him to the house.

I'm sure he'll be fine. There's nothing to worry about.

Sir Kingsley, might I have a private word?

Yes, of course.

It's a sensitive issue, but it may be linked to the attacks.

All right.

Did your son cheat at university?

Whatever happened, it's all in the past.

But history may be repeating itself.

Yesterday, when you grabbed him, what was it you said? I can't remember.

You've done it again.

Done what exactly?

Cheat? Leave it be, Father.

It would certainly explain why you were so angry.

Look, if the press get hold of this, my political career will be ruined, so I

suggest you drop it.

You are missing the point.

I believe Walter may be innocent. If so, then the attacker is still on the

loose.

Your answers may help solve the crime. If you stay quiet, then your son may end

up dead.

Look, um...

I knew Jack hadn't written the novel.

The style, it just wasn't his.

When did he realise?

When he did his reading.

There were things in it he couldn't possibly know.

Based on real people.

Who exactly?

Wasn't it obvious when he did the reading?

Lady Violet dropped her teacup when the Baroness character was mentioned.

How did your son acquire the novel?

Look, he said that he was approached by some low -life thief at a book fair.

He sold him some bundle of unpublished manuscripts.

Who is the thief?

He didn't know him.

How is Mr. Wilmot?

He's, um, he's resting in the house.

I've been thinking about his novel. In particular, one of the characters.

The Baroness.

Why that particular character?

Forgive me, Lady Violet. The last thing I want to do is to embarrass you.

You know him, don't you?

Yes.

You must think me terrible.

I'm not here to judge.

But anything you can tell me about your past may help to prove Walter's

innocence.

Very well, but please understand, I'm not proud of what I did.

I understand.

After Father died, I went off the rails a little, all the

affairs.

I was a very different person back then.

You must have been scared that Mr. Wilmot would reveal everything. That's

you threatened him.

Who exactly knows about your past?

Kingsley. I knew that I was friends with the French ambassador.

The only person I told everything to was the only man I've ever loved.

Osric Wolf.

The title of Mr. Wilmot's novel is The Eye of Lycos.

Lycos is Greek for wolf.

I'm sorry, what do you see?

I think Osric wrote the novel.

Well, we know that Jack tried to pass Osric's novel off as his own. But who

wants him dead?

Well, my guess is Lady What's -Her -Face.

trying to save her reputation.

What about Sir Kindly? In a fit of rage, worried the truth might ruin his

political career.

But neither of them has a motive to attack Miss Lipton.

No, we are missing something.

Maybe Walter is guilty after all.

He's still the only one who's connected to Miss Lipton.

Lots of agencies rejected him, not just Darcy and Fenn.

What are you looking for, Father?

Walter's interview.

Oh.

Perhaps someone is not who they say they are.

Oh. Miss Divine, would you be so good as to reprise the extract Jack read? Of

course.

With warts on every finger and a head of flaming red hair, the child was a

target for bullies. Yes.

That's it.

It all makes sense now.

He wanted his words. Well, here they are.

Miss Lipton.

I know you're not a literary agent.

How did you find out?

When you gave your details to Sir Kingsley, you misspelled Darcy and Fenn.

Fenn is spelt with a P -H, not an F.

And two Ns.

So who am I? In the novel, Lycos, his daughter has flaming red hair and warts

her fingers.

Your hair's dyed, but your eyebrows still have a tinge of red.

And you never take off your gloves.

You're Osric Wolfe's daughter.

I came here yesterday because it was in honour of my father.

But then I heard Jack's reading.

And you recognised your father's writing? He would never have given his

away.

Mr Wilmot says he purchased the novel from a thief.

He was lying!

I saw him smoking a black cigarette, just like the one I saw on my father's

roof. He was there.

So you confronted him.

I remember.

It was you.

In memory of Osric Wolfe.

My father.

The Eye of Lycos was clearly written by him.

It includes part of my childhood.

Your black cigarette was on the roof.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I was living in Paris when I heard about his suicide.

It just didn't make any sense.

I never meant to hurt him.

Fact or fiction? To become a better writer, I engaged Roderick to tutor me.

or fiction?

Fiction or fact? Within weeks, his mental state had deteriorated.

Fiction or fact?

Fact or fiction? Fiction or fact?

I barely remember writing his new novel.

Fact.

Like a child.

Osric?

Please, will you give me the manuscript?

Is not the way.

Is this worth hanging for?

Is this worth going to hell?

I never even made it back to this funeral.

It was an accident.

I just wanted to make you proud.

Forgive me.

It's not his forgiveness you should beg for.

It's Miss Wolfe's.

And God's.

Go along, Miss.

I knew it was Miss Licton.

Really? I expected too much of him.

He's always been weak.

Like a character in one of your novels.

He was shaped and manipulated by you.

Sergeant, one moment.

Look, despite the shame you've brought, I'll get you a good solicitor.

No.

Now listen to me. I said no.

I'm glad they're locking me away.

So I can be rid of you.

Jack, you're confused.

It's the injury.

Actually, things have never been clearer.

You finally get it.

Positive thinking.

That's enough.

Here you get.

Look at me like that.

In light of recent events, the prize for the best crime novel by a Cotswolds

author should be given to a different writer.

Therefore, the winner of the Quill of Osric Award is Osric Worf.

What are you doing?

Look.

Amen.

Now that we know that Osric Wolfe did not take his own life, I am honoured to

able to bless his grave.

I am the resurrection and the life. I like it most.

He that believes in me, though he be dead, he will live on.

Whoever has life and has faith in me to all eternity will not die.

Amen. Amen.