Original subtitles

Hello!

Father?

That's right, but probably not the one you were expecting.

Oh, it's you.

Father? Mrs. Sullivan?

How nice to see you again, Miss Palmer.

Father Lindsay!

What a lovely surprise.

It is indeed.

I come bearing this electrifying invitation.

Oh, Lord Silk is throwing a surprise soiree for my uncle

to welcome him back from Rome.

Just the ticket to celebrate before his consecration.

I'm quite sure my uncle wouldn't want any of you to miss it.

Not exactly something to celebrate, though, is it?

I'm sorry?

Oh, what Brenda means is, we'll be there.

Splendid.

Also, I must confess to be in need of a favour.

Preparations for the mass of consecration are frightfully behind.

I don't suppose...

Father Lindsay, I'm at your complete disposal.

As is Brenda.

You what?

Marvellous.

Chance to show off your new secretarial skills, Miss Palmer.

Jolly good.

And regarding the party, Mum's the word.

Toodle-pip.

Oh!

Oh, dear.

A party with Canon Fox and Father Lindsay.

What could possibly go wrong?

What indeed?

Well done.

Feels!

Face.

The Saying

Well, isn't this just spectacular?

Must cost a fortune to eat.

Why is this party in Humbleston anyway?

Lowly Father Fox used to be parish priest here long before Father Lindsay.

Thank you all so much for coming.

Mrs Nettles, fancy seeing you here.

As my parish secretary, Mrs Nettles is in charge of the consecration committee.

Oh.

Tell me these aren't the reinforcements you promised me.

Well, yes.

Mrs Sullivan couldn't organise the opening of an Envil Open.

I wouldn't trust that Palmer girl to run her back.

We can't hear you, you know.

It's just that St Mary's really hasn't been the same since Mrs McCarthy left.

This is going to be a disaster, thanks to you.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

What a delightful woman.

Mrs Nettles is aptly named.

Oh.

It must be him.

Everyone round the back.

Quickly.

Quickly.

Bishop-elect Fox.

Oh, Lord Osman.

How was Rome?

Unbearably hot.

But his holiness and I saw eye to eye on a great many things.

To say I'm bursting with pride is an understatement.

I'm sure I've seen that contraption somewhere before.

Shall we join Lord Silk in the garden?

I have a number of stipulations concerning my consecration mass.

The first of which is that Father Brown must not be allowed within a mile of it.

Oh, really?

Trouble follows him around like a foul smell.

Although, not for much longer, I'm pleased to say.

You know, I really couldn't think of a better place to write the most important speech of my life.

Absolute serenity is a must-have.

Hooray!

Surprise!

Oh, how nice.

Damien.

Welcome back to our humble abode.

Such an honour to host you before your midday.

The honour is all mine, Lord Silk.

Lady Martha, it is good to see you.

It's been far too long, Bishop-elect.

Farmer.

I don't believe we've had the pleasure.

This is Father Brown of Kembleford fame.

Pleased to meet you, Lord Silk.

Lady Martha.

Your reputation precedes you.

I'm a chum of Lady F's, you see.

Oh.

A bit of a sleuth.

Sleuth, my dear.

Quite simply the best.

Canon Fox, may I offer my warmest wishes in advance of your consecration?

And extend an invitation to St. Mary's at your earliest opportunity.

Great minds, Father.

Paying you a visit was at the top of my agenda.

Bishop-elect.

Mrs. Nettles.

It's been such a long time.

Perhaps I could trouble you for a while.

Actually, I could do with settling in.

Oh, let me show you to your room.

The rest of you enjoy the party.

The Bishop-elect will join us in due course.

This place is incredible.

You're very lucky.

Strictly between us, Brenda.

I find it stultifying.

Stulti what?

It comes with certain expectations.

With any luck, I'll be leaving soon.

Why is that, then?

To fulfil my dream.

Of reading English at Cambridge.

Oh, wow.

My dream is to be a parish secretary.

But I don't think that'll actually happen.

Why if it not?

Sometimes you just have to take a leap.

Your task's for Sunday.

No mistakes, so you have to answer to me.

Charm really isn't her forte.

She just tried to enlist me.

It's Father Lindsay I feel sorry for.

But here he is.

The man of the moment.

Bishop-elect.

I can't tell you how proud I am to know you.

To have supported your charitable endeavours and ambitions.

All of which shows my appreciation for your unwavering support.

For being there when I lost my dear wife, Grace.

And for making my son, Bertie.

See sense.

His sacrifice.

Makes me so proud to this day.

Not to mention your guidance of Martha, who valiantly keeps her mother's spirit alive.

So, without further ado, a toast to Bishop-elect Fox.

Bishop-elect Fox.

Thank you, Lord Silk.

I'm indebted to my most honourable of friends.

And to you all for coming.

Especially Father Brown.

As it enables me to make a very exciting announcement.

You, Father, will be my guinea pig, so to speak.

For a new endeavour for our diocese.

A sort of pastoral exchange.

You'll take over a parish in the highlands of Scotland.

While we welcome Father MacDougall to St Mary's.

You can't do that.

It is merely temporary, of course.

Just for a year.

Or two.

Thank you, everyone.

Shall we resume the music?

Let us celebrate.

Canon Fox, may I have a word?

Please.

This is my home.

My flock.

My family.

Father, think how much better a priest you'll be without the distraction of your extracurricular activities.

Canon, I dispute...

Besides which, your endeavours with flambeau,

and Father Lazarus have made you ignominious in the Vatican.

Which doesn't reflect at all well on me.

I see.

Now, Kembleford needs a fresh start.

And you can't cause nearly as much trouble amongst the sheep, can you?

That private large canon?

Yes, indeed, Mrs Nettles.

No time like the present.

I'll make that visit to St Mary's.

First thing, Father,

we can go over the finer details of your departure then.

What's taking so long?

Oh, there you are, Father.

I'm afraid Canon Fox has made up his mind.

Heavens above.

To add insult to injury, Father MacDougall will be bringing his own parish secretary.

I'm sorry, Mrs Sullivan.

Although you may stay on as housekeeper, Miss Palmer.

Oh, what would you do?

I don't believe this is happening.

Well, let's try and look on the bright side, shall we?

Perhaps it's for the best?

The best?

Yes, well.

I mean, I will be able to do my job properly.

No offence, Father.

Echo.

None taken.

Please stop talking.

Don't forget, I was demoted because of Hinton.

This could be a fresh start for both of us.

Oh!

Well, you made a pig's ear of that.

Just like you do with your investigations.

You'd be lost without Father Brown.

And so would I.

Excuse me.

Oh, dear.

That's all I've done for you.

You will regret this.

Mrs Nettles, I think it's time you left.

With pleasure.

I'm afraid I feel a migraine coming on her.

Thank you, everyone, so much for coming.

But now, I think we should let the bishop-elect recover from his journey from Rome.

I want to wring his neck.

Perhaps you should make yourself scarce when Cullen Fox arrives, Miss Palmer.

Hello!

Just what we need.

I am sorry, Father, about this awful business.

I don't suppose you've seen my uncle, have you?

I was supposed to meet him nearby for breakfast an hour ago.

Perhaps he got waylaid at Silk Manor?

Indeed.

I'll pop my head in.

I'll accompany you, if I may.

I would like to appeal one more time to his better nature.

Father, I can think of nothing I'd like more.

We didn't want to bother him.

I just assumed we needed a good night's sleep.

Cannon Fox!

See me in.

It's locked.

If I may.

What on earth are you doing?

Well done, Father.

Thought you'd approve.

Oh, my word!

Head between your knees.

Looks like this was used as a weapon.

The word of God himself.

Given the bloody assault, the broken glass on the inside of the opened door, and the absence

of the bishop-elect, I surmise that he's been abducted.

You mean kidnapped?

But why?

Yes.

Thank you, Father.

When did you last see Cannon Fox?

We had a nightcap just after 10pm, then he retired here.

I've telephoned quite literally everywhere.

There's nowhere to be found.

Good fellow.

Let's get this place dusted for prints.

Where are you at, sir?

I'm curious.

Curious.

What happened here?

Intriguing.

Fathers, please, not again.

Oh, yes.

Sorry.

A thousand apologies.

Inspector.

Important guests are arriving from all over the globe.

It would be a disaster if the bishop-elect does not attend tomorrow.

I will use all resources at my disposal.

We'll find him.

May I ask who else stayed in the house last night?

Justin, Martha and myself.

The staff had all gone home.

Then as soon as we're done here, I'll start with the woman who threatened Cannon Fox yesterday.

Inspector.

I think it best if Father Lindsay and I leave you to it.

Oh, really?

Oh.

Yes.

Toodlepip.

Fathers?

Are you really accusing me of kidnap, fathers?

The thought hadn't entered our minds, Mrs. Nettles.

We are merely trying to understand what happened yesterday.

You said to Cannon Fox, after all I've done for you.

What did you mean by that?

What we talked about is strictly confidential.

But let's just see.

I know where the bodies are buried.

Or indeed where they are not.

Are you trying to use confidential information for personal gain?

To what end, Father?

Perhaps you believe you should share in Cannon Fox's elevation.

Cannon Fox should have taken me with him in the first place.

Not left me here to fester with this hapless comedian.

I think that your attitude is incompatible with the post of a parish secretary.

I think your pure-eyed investigations are incompatible with the vocation of a priest.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a consecration to prepare for.

Mrs. Nettles, this is actually...

Yes?

...my study.

Goodbye, fathers.

You can expect the police at any moment.

I gather they're very keen to interrogate you.

Ah, there you are, father.

Something I thought you should know.

The butler heard Ray's voices last night, about ten o'clock.

Cannon Fox and Lord Silk.

Then I will return and follow that up.

I feel duty-bound to retrieve my future bishop.

Even though he wants to banish you to the other end of the country?

Brenda, it could be a way to stop this ridiculous exchange.

I'd best get on.

Good luck, father.

Likewise, sergeant.

Father Lindsay's on his way to the pro-cathedral.

Are you still able to lend him a hand?

I'm not sure what the point is without the star of the share.

Well, I'll do anything to get away from Edgar at the moment.

And I'm taking these to charity.

Do you think anyone will want them?

Erm, no.

I wholeheartedly agree, father.

Shall we?

I've had a letter from Cambridge.

Oh, yes.

They've offered me a place.

I'm so proud of you, Martha.

Just a shame about the timing.

The timing?

Well, as I retire from your mother's charitable work,

you'll be expected to step into the breach.

But, father, it's all I've ever wanted.

Well, you wouldn't want to let your mother down, would you, Martha?

Of course not.

My lord.

Father Brown.

Ned him, Martha.

Lord Sooke, may I have a word?

I'll leave you both to it.

Take a seat, father.

Scotch?

No, thank you.

Now, I gather there were raised voices in this very room last night

between you and Cannon Fox.

Oh, the notorious detective at work.

Yes, we had a debate about charitable endeavours.

I'm a major donor to the diocese, father,

furthering the interests of my dear late wife.

Which are?

She was abandoned as a child by an unmarried mother.

Her work at the Good Refuge meant everything to her.

Ah, recently closed down.

Hmm.

Yet, uh, Damien and Cannon Fox

didn't feel it was a priority to establish a new residence.

But where are these women to go now, father?

I implored him to think again.

What was his response?

He said he would.

So, father, now I need you to find him

so he can make good on that promise.

Yes.

St. Mary's Presbytery.

Father, it's me.

Cannon Fox.

Call off the search.

I assure you I'm fine.

Where are you?

Indulging in a period of contemplation

before my consecration.

Somewhere private.

I see.

And for what it's worth,

I regret what I said yesterday

about you not making trouble amongst the Highland cattle.

I understand.

Thank you, father.

May God be with you.

He's sending me a message.

On Friday, he said that I wouldn't be able

to cause trouble amongst the sheep.

Not Highland cattle.

He's telling me something's wrong.

So he really has been kidnapped?

Yes, but why?

And by whom?

We had no luck identifying the source

of the telephone call, I'm afraid.

And found nothing of interest

at Mrs. Nettle's house or Silk Manor.

Can you imagine the embarrassment

when he doesn't turn up

to his own consecration?

Which is exactly why I have my superiors

breathing down my neck.

And we have...

two hours left.

It's time we collected Mrs. Nettle's.

Actually, would you mind

if I had a quick word with Isabel first?

Oh!

I'm so sorry.

Finally.

Thank you, Edgar.

See, that wasn't so hard, was it?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

I'm so sorry that this is difficult to see now,

but I honestly believe that you will come

to see this as a positive change.

And why is that?

Spending time in our new home

and to visit Eddie?

And for holidays.

I mean, I...

I own enough.

For both of us, I...

I can keep you now.

You deserve that.

But can't you see?

I don't want to be kept.

And I detest...

these.

These.

Mrs. Sullivan, calm down.

From now on, call me Mrs. Devine.

Oh, dear.

Father, just in time,

you won't believe what has happened.

Look at the state of the place.

Has anything of value been taken?

Not as far as we can see.

I think we can assume that information was the target.

And given that this was once Cannon Fox's study,

pertinent to his kidnapping.

Bravo, Father.

That's all very well,

but, Mrs. Sullivan,

I needed to be at the Pro Cathedral an hour ago.

Oh, we'll meet you there later.

Good luck, fathers.

Miss Palmer,

given your burgeoning secretarial skills,

perhaps you could ascertain

whether anything is obviously missing.

I'll do my best.

I keep returning

to what Mrs. Nettles said in here yesterday,

that she knew where the bodies were buried.

Did she mean literally?

What if she meant Bertie?

My uncle's diary.

19th of May, 1944.

Breakthrough with Bertie Silk.

He signed up as per my advice.

Making him see sense.

That would explain why Lord Silk

was so grateful to Cannon Fox in his speech.

I recall that Lady Martha

didn't look too happy to hear that.

What if she blamed Cannon Fox

for her brother's death?

Mrs. Sullivan!

Mrs. Sullivan!

We need to get to Silk Manor.

I can see if I can borrow that van.

Your investigative skills are needed here, Miss Palmer.

Father,

I have a rather novel idea.

We could take Tyndall,

but it would require some expert coordination.

Bravo, Father Lindsay.

I do seem to be getting the hang of it.

Argh!

No!

A thousand apologies.

Accepted.

We must hurry.

Time is not on our side.

Of course.

Come along, Tyndall.

The race is not yet won.

One hour, Chief Superintendent.

You'd better find him.

I have no choice but to get ready.

Perhaps all of you should do the same.

I'll see you there.

How can I help you, Father?

Your brother, I presume.

Our glorious Bertie.

Taken far too soon.

We used to love this place.

Tearing down the corridors,

getting lost in the hidey holes.

Now it feels like a prison.

You must miss him terribly.

I think about him all the time.

But I can't pretend he was happy here either.

He never quite got along with my father.

What happened to your mother?

She died.

Giving birth to me.

I'm so sorry.

It seems it is my destiny to carry on her good work.

I am to turn down my place at Cambridge.

My father's wish.

Perhaps your mother's wishes would have been quite different.

Perhaps she would have preferred you live your own life

rather than one prescribed by her absence.

My father doesn't think so.

I couldn't help noticing how you reacted to his speech on Friday.

Bertie was exempted with a nervous disposition.

Yet it transpires that thanks to Cannon Fox's intervention,

he signed up and was a lamb to the slaughter in Normandy.

Lady Martha, I must ask,

are you responsible for what has happened to Cannon Fox?

I am not going to dignify that with an answer.

Now, fathers, if you'll excuse me, I really must get ready.

Of course.

We will see ourselves out.

What do you think, Father?

I think Lady Martha has the most compelling motive.

So what do we do now?

We must go to the pro-cathedral

and tell him that the consecration must be postponed.

I think you can face another spin.

Miss Palmer!

Mr Trotter said I could have it till four.

As long as I clean it out after.

Your ingenuity knows no bounds, Miss Palmer.

Thank you, Father.

But poo is quite the fishy whiff.

Yeah, sorry.

Well done, Miss Palmer.

Did you find anything?

Erm, just this.

Miss Fylde.

Looks like Mrs Nettles isn't that good at a job after all.

Heavens no.

She's appalling at anything actually secretarial.

It's from the War Office.

Eleven years ago.

The favour has been granted and must never be spoken of again.

Mrs Nettles said she knew where the bodies were bellied.

Or not.

Perhaps on this occasion,

Canon Fox was doing a good deed.

Of course.

The hidey holes.

The what?

You two, go.

Hold them off as long as you can.

I will get him there.

Good luck, Father.

Godspeed.

Godspeed.

Godspeed.

Godspeed.

Godspeed.

Godspeed.

Godspeed.

Colonel Fox.

Are you all right?

It took you so long.

Well, your whereabouts were not immediately apparent.

I know who did this and why.

Yes, yes, just get me out of here.

We will get you to your consecration on time.

I'm afraid not.

I really wish you hadn't interfered, Father.

Just a little bit.

Well?

He'll be here any minute.

Forty-five minutes.

If they're not here by then, we'll all have an egg on our faces.

They'll be here.

I assure you, Father Brown will keep his word.

He'd better, or you're going to have to get up there

and give everyone the bad news yourself.

Oh, dear.

What is that awful smell?

Oh!

For goodness sake, Rufus, put the gun down.

If I leave now, I can still make it.

You lied to me.

I know what happened.

You know nothing, Father.

You learned something truly shocking at the party.

The Bishop's Palace is where I belong, at your right hand.

Frankly, I can think of nothing worse.

I'm sorry.

Mrs. Nettles, you are undoubtedly the worst secretary I've ever had.

The notion that I'd implore you again is quite ludicrous.

And what if I let slip about what you've done?

How do you think Lord Silk would react

to knowing his son is still alive?

You were supposed to be my friend.

He is.

You said yourself that he supported your family.

Bertie went to him for help.

Faced with intolerable pressure to sign up,

but of a painfully nervous disposition

in need of a way out,

which Canon Fox provided.

There might be another way, Bertie.

He betrayed me.

Understandably, you wanted to know the truth.

Put your hand on this

and swear to me,

is my son really dead?

Please, Rufus, let it go.

No!

Even if I did know anything, I wouldn't be able to tell you.

Oh, I think you will...

Oh!

But you lost control.

You attempted to misdirect.

You staged a break-in.

The marks from the priest's hole door gave you away.

Aye.

And your search of Canon Fox's previous study proved fruitless.

I must know what happened.

Canon Fox will never break the seal of the confessional.

He is bound by it,

as am I.

You didn't take his confession.

So you will tell me.

Where is Bertie?

I don't know.

Then we're back where we started.

Rufus,

I believe you are a good man.

But I think you know why this happened.

What would you do me the courtesy of telling me?

Bertie was full of fear.

Of course he was.

The boy was emotionally incontinent.

He could never have fought in the war.

But you desperately clung to the fiction

that he signed up and died a hero's death,

which blinded you to the real truth.

The thing he was most afraid of

was you.

Bobby Cook.

Listen to Father Brown.

I'm so sorry, Rufus.

No.

No.

And Slyas,

you leave me no choice.

Please God forgive me.

Lord Silk,

if you do this,

you will surely face the gallows.

But if you confess

and repent,

you may see your son again.

A gift

denied to so many parents.

How could he do this to me?

Now that the truth is out,

I hope one day

you will be able to ask him

that question yourself.

No.

That's it.

I won't wait any longer.

There is still a minute.

Go inside

and tell them

it's all off.

Now!

Mrs Nettles,

has it escaped your notice

that you work for Father Lindsay,

not the other way round?

I have complete faith

in Father Brown,

who has never let me down.

Hear, hear.

And as if on cue...

Tyndall saves the day!

Praise be!

Tyndall?

Tyndall the tandem.

Apologies for cutting it a bit fine.

Where is Lord Silk?

I'm afraid he will not

be in attendance.

My vestments!

Now,

at once,

Uncle.

Mrs Nettles,

please announce

there will be a short delay.

Me?

Chop-chop,

Mrs Nettles?

You need to put that away.

vitamines

Não

Is

O

O

O

O

O

O

O

O

Most reverent Father,

our Holy Mother, the Catholic Church,

demands of me to promote the priest here present

to the heavy office of a bishop.

His name is God.

Our Holy Mother, the Catholic Church,

the Catholic Church says,

Those priests who go beyond the call of duty, and without whom I would not be standing before you today.

To Father Brown, as opposed to you.

Thank you for Bertie.

I'll write to him. I'm sure he'll be in touch. But your father will need you now.

I'll go and see him. And Bertie, of course, from Cambridge. I've been offered a place which I'm going to accept.

And what of your mother's charitable interests?

My father can pay someone to look after them. I've come to realise they're not my burden to bear. Goodbye, Bishop Fox.

Thank you, Lady Martha.

Congratulations, my lord.

I was hoping, my lord, after what has happened, you might reconsider the clerical exchange.

Father Brown, you have been truly indispensable these last few days. But Father MacDougall is on his way here. A priest must be sent to take his place.

And then you must send him back. Father Brown saved your life. Were you sure the bishop's some respect?

Oh, put a sock in it, Mrs. Nettles.

Bishop Fox. I've had my own clashes with Father Brown, but his contributions to Kembleford far outweigh his duties as a priest.

He has helped me. No. In fact, he has solved many a case, ably assisted by my beautiful wife.

And me.

Yes. Please, I implore you, do everything in your power to keep Father Brown in his rightful place.

The inspector's right. We need Father Brown. Please, don't send him away.

These are moving tributes, but wheels have been set in motion that I cannot stop.

I'm sorry.

Uncle. Bishop. My lord.

If it is essential that a priest be sent in return, then I will send myself.

Of husband? No. In fact, it will be the greatest honour of my life to do this for the greatest man I've ever met.

I refuse.

And I refuse your refusal.

I've always wanted to visit the highlands of Scotland. I hear they have very strange cattle.

Well, I am not going there with you.

I must confess to feeling relieved.

And as Father MacDougall is bringing his own parish secretary, looks like you're out of a job.

On your own head, be it.

I don't know what to say.

Say all right?

We all will.

Won't we, Edgar?

Yes.

From now on, I will do just as I'm told.

You're all right, you know.

Sorry I thought you were a murderer when we first met.

And I think you are positively teeming with promise, Miss Palmer.

What a fine parish secretary you'll make one day.

Oh, good.

Because I've got an idea.

Yeah.

Lady Martha and Lord Bertie have been reunited.

Turns out he was working as a librarian in Largs.

Oh, how wonderful.

Father, I will never forget what you did.

I'm just glad I could help.

And what an adventure this is going to be.

I can't wait.

Miss Brenda, you'd think she would...

Oh.

I thought I'd best make this quick.

There's a parish secretary job going, and I think I can do it.

I know you can.

Is this really goodbye?

It's goodbye to the girl who couldn't read.

And was only good at mopping floors.

She's gone.

Thanks to you two.

No.

It was because of you, Brenda Palmer.

We couldn't be more proud.

Besides, someone needs to look after that one over there.

And I know Father Brown is in the best hands.

Goodbye, Father.

You know what you mean to me.

I'll write every week.

You'll be sick of me letters.

I doubt that.

Will we ever see you again?

Of course you will.

I best, um...

We've got a train to catch.

I hope it all goes well up there.

I'm quite sure it will.

I hear the English are spectacularly popular in Scotland.

What can possibly go wrong?

And away we go.

Godspeed.

Father.

Mrs Sullivan.

Yes.

I just wanted to say,

I will miss you

so much.

The feeling is entirely mutual.

End of an era, Father.

And now we have an empty nest.

Because she's flying.

Yes.

She is.

He is.

He is.

He is.

Yeah.