All language subtitles for A.Very.English.Scandal.Part3.1080p.HDTV.x264-MTB

Norman.

Are you my little Bunny?

Of course, we still have
that unfinished business,

the Scottish matter.

Leave Norman Scott alone.

It was a relatively modest affair.

There is a man coming
from Canada to kill you.

Canada?

He tried to shoot me!

- Who did?
- Jeremy Thorpe!

Jeremy Thorpe did this!
It was Jeremy Thorpe!

I'm sorry, but it's true.

I had a homosexual relationship
with Jeremy Thorpe,

and if anyone wants to
see me dead, it is him.

Now, tell me that again.

I had an affair with Jeremy Thorpe.

Jeremy Thorpe is a
Member of Parliament...

- Aah!
- And a highly respected man.

He is NOT to be abused
by a lying little queer!

My name is Mrs Edna Friendship.

I'm here about Norman Scott.

I'm afraid we're not allowing any...

Mr Scott's would-be assassin

is in his early 30s, with
brown hair and a moustache.

On Sunday the 12th of October,

said gentleman was seen in the vicinity

of the Market Inn, Barnstaple,
wearing a red rally jacket

and driving a yellow Honda,
registration 589 LFT.

Huh. Now, you can stay on the
front desk all your life, sonny,

or you can pass on this information
and get yourself promoted.

Come on!

Get in.

Mr Andrew Newton?

Maybe I am.

Uh, uh...!

Sync and corrections by btsix
www.addic7ed.com

- They've arrested Andrew Newton...
- Christ.

But we can trust him.

He's kept your name out of it.

He said that Norman Scott
tried to blackmail him

- when you went looking...
- Sh, sh, sh!

...for ladies' services in a magazine.

Newton will say he got
angry, he shot the dog,

it was all a silly mistake.

It's likely that he'll go to
prison, maybe 12 months...

...but that's bearable. He will do it.

He will serve the time if he
receives £5,000 on his release.

Now, I can pay the money
via John Le Mesurier.

That's it, we're done,
we've bought his silence.

- John Le Mesurier?
- Mm. Not the actor.

Obviously.

- Not the one from Dad's Army.
- Yes, obviously.

He was married to Hattie
Jacques for a while.

David.

He can handle the transaction.

John Le Mesurier, not the actor.

It's nothing to do with us.

- Except you know John Le Mesurier, yes?
- Yes.

- And you're godfather to my son.
- Yes.

So there's a very clear
connection back to me.

Jesus Christ, David!

- Don't...
- No, no, don't tell me, don't tell me.

I don't know any of
this. I mean, I don't.

I don't, do I? I never have.
I literally, I do not know,

and you will keep it
that way. You idiot!

Norman Scott will talk.

But he doesn't know any of
this is connected to you.

Except it is connected to me,

and now you have given him centre stage.

You have put that stupid
babbling man in a court

with a gun and a motive and a dead dog,

and on top of that, he's a bloody fairy!

He will love it!

My Lord, this whole thing
is a travesty of justice,

because blaming that man
with the gun is one thing,

but I blame the man who gave him orders,

the man who wants me dead.

The man with whom I had a
vigorous sexual relationship

for very many years, and
that man is Jeremy Thorpe.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

What's your relationship with Mr Scott?

Hello, John. Morning, Adrian.

Did you have a sexual relationship...

- Mr Thorpe...
- I'm afraid I have a very busy day,

- so good day to you all.
- Will you stand down, Mr Thorpe?

Nice to see you.

This one calls you nauseous...

...and look at the News of the World.

"No-one would hang a cat on his word."

This is the worst. "An
erratic and desperate man,

set on character assassination."

Maybe I should get some
new photographs taken.

- Norman, are you enjoying this?
- No.

You've got Fleet Street on the attack,

and they smell blood. If
I were you, I'd lay low.

I will not! I've had quite enough
of that, thank you very much.

I just need to prove that he's lying,

because I had evidence, years ago.

I had letters from Jeremy Thorpe,

but I gave them to the police.

What did they do with them?

I don't know, they put them on
file, or whatever the word is,

but the police keep
everything, don't they?

What if they're still there?

Two letters from you to Scott.

Turns out they've been
locked away since 1962...

...but these are just copies.

Norman Scott has demanded
the originals back,

and I've got no power to stop him.

I'm afraid to say, I think
Scott will publish.

Oh, Christ, not this one.

But evidence goes missing all
the time. Policemen lie.

Why can't this stuff just disappear?

Why is everyone suddenly
so bloody honest?

I'd advise that we find a safe newspaper

and publish the letters ourselves,

accompanied by an interview
entirely in your favour.

I can't let people see these.

I can't deny there will be consequences,

but if you don't publish
the letters, Scott will.

It could be your version
of events, or his.

- Well, then, we have to cut that bit.
- No, we can't.

- We have to cut that word.
- Which word?

That one there.

- What one?
- That one! Bunnies!

Bunnies?!

Bunnies?!

Bunnies?!

Rupert, darling, I want you
to take that piece of toast

- and eat it in your room, hmm?
- Yes, Papa.

There's a good boy.

"Bunnies can and will go to France.

"Yours, affectionately,
Jeremy. PS, I miss you."

So... you're Bunnies, are you, Norman?

It was my nickname.

I liked it.

Technically he was Bunny, singular.

Then why did you say "Bunnies"?

Were there two of you? Are you a Bunny?

Am I married to a Bunny?

No, I was using a generic
noun in an imperative clause.

Well, thank God it's
grammatically correct,

because the whole country's
reading this! Bunnies!

Well, I saw David Steel,
handed him my letter.

I have resigned as leader
of the Liberal Party.

One word.

One bloody word brought me down.

No, it wasn't Bunnies.

It's because you lied.

You told the party you
hardly knew Norman Scott,

then the Bunnies letter caught you out.

From that moment on, your
position was untenable.

Now, Rupert's with Alison and James.

I've packed that little case of his.

They said he could stay the night

so that you and I can
talk about everything.

I've made cod in parsley sauce.

Before I met you,

um, before I met Caroline...

I had moments, I...

...certain nights, unfortunate
nights, involving alcohol...

...and, um...

...with no women in the vicinity, I...

I would dabble, to relieve myself...

...and that's all.

So, this thing with Norman Scott,

it wasn't a relationship?

- Oh! How could it be?
- Jeremy, I'm not a fool.

I practically grew up
with Benjamin Britten.

I've seen something of the world.

I fled from Hitler, for God's sake.

My own son married a hippie in a yurt,

and I've toured with orchestras.

I couldn't begin to tell
you the things I've seen,

so there's no need to protect me.

I made mistakes, and I've stopped.

And I swear I had nothing to do
with that gun and the dog and...

Of course you didn't. Jeremy!

- Absolutely nothing to do with me.
- I'm not even asking.

I won't dignify it with discussion,
and there's an end to it.

Thank you.

For what it's worth,

I think people are focused
on the word "Bunnies".

But the last thing you wrote in
that letter was, "I miss you".

I think that's a wonderful thing
for a man to say to his friend.

Are you all right?

Very nice dinner.

Very nice.

Thank you.

I think this is a new start, isn't it?

I'm still a Member of Parliament,
there's work to be done.

The party could do with
a change in leadership,

and all that new blood
coming in, Clement Freud,

- Cyril Smith, exciting times.
- And what about Norman Scott?

- Are we finished with him?
- Absolutely. Absolutely.

Damn him, but there's
nothing more he can do.

Mr Newton? Stewart Cutley,
Evening News. We meet at last.

The longest 12 months of my
life. Hey, I'm warning you,

I want 75 grand for
my side of the story.

- I'm bloody Watergate, I am.
- I can give you 3,000 tops.

- Deal?
- Deal.

Andrew Newton can name
the men who paid him

but he's never met you in his life.

The police don't have any
actual proof, none whatsoever,

and who can they summon
as a witness? No-one.

Jeremy Thorpe, the dirty sod!

We should take this to the papers.

Mr Peter Bessell. Who's he, then?

I need to ask you, Mr Bessell,

would you cooperate in bringing
a case against Jeremy Thorpe?

Specifically, would you
appear in court as a witness?

You mean, as a prosecution witness?

Yes.

You'll be fully aware that
Jeremy Thorpe is my best friend.

I'm sorry. I've been unwell.

Of course, sir,

and I respect your position,

but we have a letter here

concerning the relationship
between Mr Scott and Mr Thorpe.

Oh, you mean the Bunnies
one? It's nothing.

Bunnies, you people don't realise,

public schools are run on nicknames.

Everyone I know it is a Bunny
or a Beano or a Biffo.

I don't mean Bunnies.

I mean this.

A letter from Norman Scott to
Jeremy Thorpe's mother, 17 pages,

describing his explicit
relationship with her son...

...and these.

Letters from Scott to you, Mr Bessell,

detailing money paid by
you to him as a retainer.

Regular payments over many years.

- Where did you find them?
- Exactly where you left them.

From your office they went
to the Sunday Mirror,

and from them to us,

and I get a trip to California as
a result, so thank you for that.

Peter, your name is all over this.

You need to ask for immunity.

You need a lawyer and you
need immunity right now.

We've agreed to consider
immunity, if you speak up.

This is exactly what your wife said.

She said that Thorpe would fall one day

and he would take you with him.

I'm asking you to put
aside that old pals act

for something more important, the truth.

- Good afternoon.
- This way, sir.

It won't take long.

Home for supper. Once they've
officially questioned you

about this Newton chap, the
press might finally shut up.

Good afternoon, Mr Thorpe.

Sir David. My name's Chief
Superintendent Michael Challes.

Now, I'm sure I'm sure you'll appreciate

- that my client's a very busy man.
- John Jeremy Thorpe,

I'm arresting you for conspiracy
to murder Norman Scott

on Friday the 24th of October 1975,

with the further charge
of incitement to murder.

I must caution you that you're
not obliged to say anything

unless you wish to do so,

but what you do say may
be given in evidence.

I'm so sorry.

If you could just wait
here for the others.

Mr Thorpe.

Very nice to meet you,
sir. Very great honour.

Albeit in these difficult circumstances.

- Fucking mess, this is.
- My name's John Le Mesurier.

Not the actor, obviously.

I've always voted Liberal, sir.

- Waste of a vote.
- There's no need to be rude!

My solicitor is from Swansea.

I bet he's had his flown in from
Geneva. You watch him stitch us up.

- All right now, leave it.
- Oh, you can shut it, David!

Or have we never met? Oh,
sorry, don't know you, do I?

You bumhole!

Ready for you.

How do you plead, Mr Thorpe?

I will vigorously defend these
charges and plead not guilty.

Gentlemen, you will be remanded
until the 12th of September

on bail of £5,000 each.

Who were those awful men? Who were they?

I said, just drive!

- They worked in carpets?!
- I am, I'm trying.

I know since when did
gangsters work in carpets?

- For God's sake, just get us out!
- And they were Welsh!

- Why were they Welsh?
- Sorry, I... new car.

Drive!

The question is, who's going
to represent you in court?

The papers are trying
you on a daily basis.

You'll need someone remarkable.

If I might suggest, sir, George Carman.

- We were at Oxford.
- Is he good?

Well, it depends. He's a
drinker and a gambler,

and his second wife left
him for George Best.

Oh, he's good. I saw him defend
the manager of that big dipper

at Battersea, the one that
killed five children.

Got him off scot-free,
blamed the nuts and bolts.

It was one of the finest
things I've ever seen.

Not for the parents.

Oh, quite. He was merciless.

- That's what we need.
- It depends if he's free.

He'd want this, wouldn't he?
Surely no case could be bigger.

No, I mean, it depends
it depends if HE'S free.

They're letting you go, George. God
knows how you get away with it.

I have friends in high places.

Even better friends in low places.

- Goodbye, Dickie!
- Bye!

And try to stay out of trouble, eh?

Let's not pretend. I'll
see you next week.

Get me another blanket,
that one is so coarse.

Thank you, my dear. Hello.
Good God, I'm sorry I'm late.

I swear, I promised I'd be
on time. I do apologise.

Hello. There was this
thing, I was just...

Well, never mind. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Not at all, George.
It's a very good trick.

Er, hold on.

Your girl made me a coffee.

She's very good, very sharp.

- What's her name?
- Jennifer.

I don't know where to put
this without leaving a ring,

although it doesn't
really matter, does it?

Anyway, very great honour
to see you again, Jeremy.

Sir David. This is a mess, isn't it?

What a great big stinking mess
you've got yourself into.

What trick?

The person who's late is
immediately in charge of the room.

I want to say, congratulations.

- What for?
- These are the greatest charges

ever levelled against a
Member of Parliament,

and considering the House of
Commons has had 270 years

of bastards, liars, perverts,

thieves, blackmailers,
inbreds and arsonists,

that really is quite an achievement.

To business. Now, I think the best
way to undermine the prosecution

is to tackle them on
conspiracy to murder.

It's a fair point.

When the defendant defends
himself, it's a disaster.

You left Oxford with a third.
I left Oxford with a first.

- Granted.
- Thank you.

Then I have a task for both of you.

The trial starts on April the 30th,

but Callaghan has announced the
general election for May the 3rd,

so I need the trial delayed.

You're standing for election?

- Of course I am.
- Is that wise?

Speller, Antony, Conservative Party,

31,811 votes.

Thorpe, John Jeremy, Liberal Party,

23,338 votes.

Waugh, Auberon, Dog Lovers' Party,

79 votes.

I declare Antony Speller duly
elected as Member of Parliament...

Don't worry. We're old
friends from way back.

We'll get him to the Old
Bailey, safe and sound.

- Goodbye, Edna. Thank you.
- Bye.

Love your pub, by the
way. It's adorable.

London calling.

- Why does he have cushions?
- Just take your place, sir.

He has cushions and we don't.

We'll be fine. It's
all going to be fine.

I was talking to my brief,

he says that this could be over
in three days. Five days, tops.

In fact, he thinks there's
a chance that we could sue

for defamation of character.

Red tops, all of them. We could
actually end up quids in.

Apparently there's a witness

who claimed that Norman Scott
said he was a ballet dancer.

He only stopped dancing when
a piano fell on his toe.

It's like he's a sugar plum fairy.

He says he belongs to the aristocracy!

- Holmes.
- The man is a born liar.

My client asks that you
do not address him

in any way, shape or form, ever.

All rise.

M'lud, I'd like to ask the court
on the half of my client,

Mr George Deakin, to lift
all reporting restrictions.

What?!

- There's no mention.
- M'lud, I must object.

Mr Deakin wants it known that he
welcomes the fullest scrutiny.

I must point out we
asked for a Section 7.

This trial will contain
false allegations

of an intimate and sexual nature.

Nonetheless, my hands are tied.

If these proceedings are reported
in the press and on television,

it will humiliate my client and
damage his reputation for life!

You know how the law stands, Mr Carman.

If one party applies to
have restrictions lifted,

then they must be adopted by all.

- Outrageous.
- Well played, Mr Deakin.

My Lord.

Cushions!

Oh, my God. They've lifted restrictions!

Everything they're saying in the
court, it's all here! Oh, my God!

It's public!

At last!

Good evening. There could
be serious disruption

in the power stations next month.

The engineers there are
to hold a strike ballot.

Fascinating scenes today
here at the Old Bailey,

on the first day in which Jeremy
Thorpe has been put on trial

for conspiracy to murder.

The prosecution outlined how Thorpe
and Mr Scott first met in 1961

and began a homosexual relationship.

That's me! On the telly!

- Mr Scott!
- Thorpe and Scott first met on

the property of a Mr
Norman van de Vater,

where Thorpe gave Scott
his telephone number,

with a general invitation
to visit him in London.

Some 12 months later,
Scott went to London...

- Mrs F, we've got customers.
- Shh!

I'm not missing this!

Mr Thorpe took Mr Scott and
his Jack Russell terrier,

called Mrs Tish, to the
house of Thorpe's mother,

Mrs Ursula Thorpe, at Oxted, Surrey.

The court heard that "Bunnies"

was a reference to their
first night together,

when Thorpe said that Scott
looked like a frightened rabbit.

This night at Thorpe's mother's

was the start of a homosexual affair.

This is filthy.

Proved this was a physical relationship.

I can't believe they can
say this on the BBC.

It is alleged that
Thorpe gave Scott money

with which he rented a room
at Draycott Place in Chelsea,

where Thorpe was a frequent visitor.

The court heard that Scott
ordered a pair of silk pyjamas

from Gieves of Bond Street,
charging them to Thorpe's account.

M'lud. The prosecution
calls Mr Peter Bessell.

Take the Bible in your right
hand. Repeat after me.

Astonishing scenes in court today
as former MP Peter Bessell

gave a devastating testimony.

He said he'd witnessed Mr Thorpe
demanding Norman Scott's death

on multiple occasions,

by shooting Mr Scott
or breaking his neck

or burying his body in cement.

Peter Bessell, a good friend of yours.

How do you want me to handle it?

He's a Judas.

Mr Bessell.

Might I ask what prompted
you to testify here today?

- A sense of justice, perhaps?
- That was a factor, yes.

Then, if your sense of justice
is so paramount, can I ask,

when the leader of the Liberal
Party told you, as you claim,

that he wanted a man murdered,

who did you tell?

- Did you tell anyone in the party?
- No.

- Did you tell the police?
- No.

- Did you tell Mrs Thorpe?
- No.

So you told no-one that the leader
of the Liberals must be insane?

Er, no, no, I did not.

- Then you lied.
- I didn't exactly lie.

Yes or no, did you lie about
what you knew, to everyone?

- Well, by omission, yes.
- Then you're a liar.

I... suppose I have lied to
many people on many occasions.

Gosh, I have something of a
credibility problem, yes.

Then why should the jury
believe a word you say?

Because I'm not lying now.

Except, having been granted immunity,

you could say whatever you like.

- Did you serve in the war?
- What? Um, no, I did not,

I was a conscientious objector.

So you only objected to acts
of violence in wartime,

- when it saved your neck?
- That's not fair, I did my bit.

In what way?

I gave lectures to the Armed
Forces in classical music.

Well, no wonder we won, Mr Bessell!

- Are you a drug addict?
- What?

- Are you a drug addict?
- No, I'm not.

M'lud, I must ask...

No. I imagine this might be important.

M'lud, this constitutes an attack
on the witness' character.

Let's discover that for ourselves.

Mr Carman, you may continue.

What sort of drugs did you mean?
Do you mean prescription drugs?

I mean a drug called Mandrax.

Right, yes, I'm sorry. It's a
sleeping tablet on prescription.

I suppose I developed
something of an addiction.

Mandrax is commonly known to the police

as "disco biscuits", is that right?

- I don't know.
- Disco biscuits?

Discotheque, M'lud, is a dance hall,

and biscuits is a
euphemism for hard drugs.

I was taken ill. It wasn't...

I was diagnosed with emphysema.

I really am very sorry to hear that.

- Thank you.
- It's fatal, isn't it?

Yes.

Which is why I wanted to
confess, now, at the end.

That's very kind of you.

M'lud, I'm grateful for my
colleague's sympathy...

I'm just wondering, now that
you live in California,

outside the National Health Service,

was that your reason for signing this?

I'm... sorry?

It's your contract with the Sunday
Telegraph, do you recognise it?

I withdraw that question.

Of course you recognise
it, you've signed it.

It confirms that when
this trial is over,

it will publish your side of the
story for the amount of £25,000.

Is that correct?

Yes.

- £25,000.
- Yes... Yes.

Unless... Unless Mr
Thorpe is found guilty,

in which case they will double
the amount and pay you £50,000.

- Is that correct?
- Yes.

So, if you can stand in this court
and make my client appear guilty,

then, in the popular
language of Mr Hughie Green,

you win double the money.

- Is that correct, sir?
- Yes.

No more questions.

Oh, my God, Norman!

They're tearing people
apart in that courtroom.

Just think what they're
going to say about you.

Comedy Room. Muriel.
Francis bloody Bacon!

What the hell are you going to do?

Shall we go out and get drunk?

Oh, my...

- Norman!
- Mr Scott!

No, I can't really... Please, I can't.

They're calling you a liar.

Saying you made up the whole thing.

Brave heart, darling.

These men, they went to
Eton and Harrow and Oxford.

I went to a secondary
modern in Bexleyheath.

They're going to destroy me.

- Mr Scott.
- Oh.

Follow me.

Take the Bible in your right hand.

So, having arrived in the bedroom,

I would be grateful if you
could take us through

the exact order of events.
What happened next?

Mr Thorpe...

...got into bed with me...

...and he had a jar...

...of something. It's
not nice to talk about.

But could you identify it for the court?

Vaseline.

What was the purpose of this Vaseline?

It was to lubricate...

...him.

So he put the...

...substance on his penis...

...turned me over and...

- made love to me.
- And what was your reaction?

I thought I was being sawn in half.

So what did you do?

The only thing I could
do, I bit the pillow.

Silence in court! I must insist!

Mr Scott, good morning.

Good morning.

Can I ask, are you taking any
medication at the moment?

- Why?
- Just answer the question.

Are you taking any medication?

- No.
- But you have been in the past.

Yes. I had a number of...
emotional difficulties,

but they're all behind me now.

Does this explain why
you have previously

claimed that your parents died
in a plane crash in the Amazon?

- Did they?
- No.

You also said that you were the
son of the 4th Earl of Eldon.

- Are you?
- No, I'm not.

Then why did you say it? Was
it some form of delusion?

- No.
- Then what made you say it?

Mr Scott.

Well, let's be honest, it
was just a lie, wasn't it?

Don't you think a lie
is a very wicked thing?

- Oh, I've done lots of wicked things.
- Does that include today?

No, because I've stopped
doing wicked things,

ever since that wretched man,
Thorpe, tried to kill me.

If he has done one good
thing in this world,

he has brought me to my senses.

Mr Scott, I want to ask about

what I suspect are a
number of discrepancies

in your statements concerning your
night at Ursula Thorpe's house.

To the police in
December 1962, you said,

"I am almost certain that his
penis did not go into my anus,"

but now you are claiming that
penetration did take place

to the extent that you bit the pillow.

Well, that's easy.

I didn't mention it in 1962
because buggery was illegal then.

I would have been arrested,
and so would he!

Jeremy Thorpe lives on a
knife-edge of danger.

Isn't this more a case of, "Hell
hath no fury like a woman scorned"?

Well, it would be, yes, except for
one vital fact, I am not a woman.

He is good, Jez. Watch out.

You could have warned me that
Norman Scott is so fucking clever!

Moving on. I'd like to
ask you about the time

you went to the House of Commons

with your then partner, Mrs Parry-Jones.

A relationship which sadly ended
in the poor lady's suicide.

Did you not go there hellbent
on destroying Mr Thorpe?

Absolutely not. All I wanted was
my National Insurance card.

You went all the way to David Steel
for a National Insurance card?

National Insurance is my lifeblood!

Then, tell me, if you're
so cruelly deprived

of your National Insurance card,
what's your source of income?

Well, at the moment, it's this.

I'm getting money off TV
stations for interviews.

Then that makes you
yet another profiteer

with a vested interest in making money

from savaging my client's
reputation, does it not?

If they want to pay me, that's fine.

That's not the point.

Thank you, Mr Scott, we've
proved your motives.

No, but you have to know why.

M'lud, I think the witness
might be permitted to explain?

If we must.

If they are paying me, it's
because I can say the truth.

I don't care about the money,
but I do care how men like me

are shoved into corners and
masturbated in the dark

and then thrown out the
door like we're dirt,

like we're nothing, like we don't exist!

And all the history books get
written with men like me missing.

So, yes, I will talk, I will be heard

and I will be seen, Your Honour.

You can pay me or not
pay me, I don't care,

but the one thing you will
not do is shut me up!

Thank you. You may continue.

Yeah, that's it.

Norman!

Oh, you little swine!

- Come on.
- Norman, you were amazing!

I was rude, I was vile, I
was queer, I was myself.

- How did it go, Norman?
- It went very, very well indeed.

We can only hope justice
will be done. Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

You're very kind. Thank
you, Mr McCracken.

Do you want some?

- No, thanks.
- It's from Clement Freud.

I might get a sandwich later,

once I've finished my deliberations.

Concerning... what?

This is the story of a liar
meeting a fantasist...

...but I'm not sure which one's which.

Galloway beef, from the
uplands of Dumfries.

My problem is this, it's
your turn to take the stand.

I have to conduct your defence,
and yet I can't help wondering,

will you be as convincing
as Norman Scott?

Good God.

Yes, I think that people will take
my word rather than his, yes.

But the jury have just
seen him in all his glory,

an open homosexual, the
new world blazing.

In contrast, you might
seem a little... old...

...and if they prefer him,

you could go to jail.

So, what do you suggest?

That you don't take the stand.

That would be worse.

- I wonder.
- I'd look guilty...

- and I'd look like a coward.
- That might be a risk worth taking.

Are we running in fear
from Norman Scott? Are we?

Well, thank God it's not
your decision, it's mine.

My case, my courtroom, I decide.

I could have you sacked, George.

Consider the balance of the
scales of justice above us.

If you don't take the stand,
you could look like a liar.

If you do take the stand...

...you could look like a liar.

So, which is it to be?

- Mr Taylor.
- Thank you, M'lud.

No further witnesses.

That rests the case for the prosecution.

Thank you.

Mr Carman.

M'lud, on behalf of Jeremy
Thorpe, I call no witnesses.

Silence. Silence!

I must insist!

The court will resume at ten
o'clock tomorrow morning

- for the closing addresses.
- All rise.

The surprise announcement means
that Mr Thorpe won't take the stand

and will not be questioned on his
role in this remarkable affair.

He will remain silent.

- What a coward!
- Is he allowed to do that?

Ugh, it's the establishment,
same as ever.

This whole thing has been a
stitch-up, right from the start.

This is a very serious charge

and a rather bizarre
and surprising case.

The accused, a man of hitherto
unblemished reputation,

Mr Thorpe, is a Privy Councillor,

a former leader of the Liberal Party,

and a national figure with a very
distinguished public record.

As we consider Mr Bessell's evidence,

he's plainly a very intelligent man,

but having sold his story
in a deplorable contract

with the Sunday Telegraph,

he told us that he was a Christian,

at the same time being
sexually promiscuous,

therefore he is a humbug.

I now turn to the evidence of Mr Scott.

You will remember him well,

an hysterical, warped personality,
and an accomplished sponger.

Very skilful at exciting
and exploiting sympathy.

Spineless, neurotic character,
addicted to self-advertisement.

He is a crook, he is a fraud,
he is sponger, he is a whiner,

he is a parasite.

Of course, I'm not suggesting
that you should not believe him.

That is not for me, I'm not
expressing any opinion.

You have seen this wretched
Scott in the witness box.

You have seen his vindictive attitude.

I leave it for you to decide.

As for Mr Thorpe,

we may not assume that
affection means buggery.

And you must ask yourself if
you are sure that Mr Thorpe

genuinely tried to persuade
others to murder Mr Scott,

and if there is any reasonable
doubt, you will acquit.

You may go now.

Take your time. We shall wait for you.

That was good.

- Old fool.
- He's on our side.

This thing should be won
by me, not the judge.

- We'll see you tomorrow.
- I'll be fine.

I've sent word ahead that
you have a stomach upset.

They'll put you in the hospital wing.

This way.

That's the law, I'm afraid. The
jury retires and bail is withdrawn

until the verdict is reached.

Now, lie on the floor, all of you.

- What for?
- So they can't take photos.

Don't argue, get down, quick as you can!

Come on, down on the floor!

I never gave them your name.

All this time, I've said nothing.

A second day has gone by
since the jury retired,

and they still haven't
come to a decision.

The judge, in his summing up,

told them that he expected them
to reach a unanimous verdict.

Earlier, because of the intense
interest in the case, police...

Nothing yet.

They will be wondering why this
man wanted that man dead...

...or whether he just said
he wanted him dead so often,

one day someone listened...

...but I still keep
wondering something else.

Why Norman?

I have a particular interest.

Between you and me,

I've been there.

With men.

Before I was married, while
I was married, next week,

so I know what it's like.

The stink of them, the sweat...

...and the joy.

So I wonder...

...why a man with your
power and privilege

should choose him?

Except I did not have a relationship

with Norman Scott.

Jeremy, I kept you off the
witness stand to save your life.

The prosecution had evidence.

They had men from the pubs,

men from the streets,
men who know you...

- All of them liars.
- ..and I know those men.

I know they last for one night,

but with Norman Scott,
it went on for years.

It was different.

You wrote to him, you helped him.

You loved him.

Why that man?

Well, I would imagine...

I can only speculate, but...

...if you do know those men, George...

...then you know those nights...

...and you know how
those nights can end.

Don't you touch me, you dirty queer!

Fuck, don't touch me!

Agh, no!

Take it, take it. Take it! Just take it!

Do you like that?

Given those men...

...maybe, I suppose,
one could imagine...

...that Norman Scott was the best.

They're coming back.

And, finally, Mr Thorpe himself,

with his face set in the
mask of inexpression

he has maintained throughout the trial.

Will the defendants rise?

On the charge of conspiracy to murder,

do you find the defendant, David
Holmes, guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

On the charge of conspiracy to
murder, do you find the defendant,

George Deakin, guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

On the charge of conspiracy to
murder, do you find the defendant,

John Le Mesurier, guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

On the charge of conspiracy to
murder, do you find the defendant,

Jeremy Thorpe, guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

No.

No!

And on the second charge
of incitement to murder,

do you find the defendant, Jeremy
Thorpe, guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

This is not justice!

- Darling, we did it!
- Bravo!

- We did it!
- Bravo!

- We did it!
- Bravo!

Outrageous! It's outrageous!

- This is not justice!
- Stand still!

- Bravo!
- Guilty as charged!

News just in from the Old
Bailey, Jeremy Thorpe,

the former leader of the Liberal Party

has been found not guilty
of conspiracy to murder

and not guilty of incitement to murder.

Mr Thorpe's three co-defendants

were also found not guilty
of conspiracy to murder.

We have a full report
to follow on the hour,

with the traffic and weather.

- Congratulations, Mr Thorpe.
- Thank you. Thank you very much.

- Thank you.
- We did it, then.

We did it. Well done.

Aha!

Hello! Thank you very much.
Thank you very much. Thank you.

Thank you, gentlemen, very much.

Thank you!

One and all, thank you! Thank you!

Taxi.

Thank you very much. Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Can I have some more baklava, please?

Yes, sure.

- All finished for the day?
- I think so, yeah.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Thank you!

- Thank you!
- Give her a kiss!

Kiss! Give her a kiss!

All right.

Yes? Here, boy, Gordon.

Thank you very, very much.

How are you?

- Any further comments, Mr Thorpe?
- I know you.

- I know you.
- Of course, you're ruined.

You know that, don't you?

Huh. Very kind.

Thank you. I must go in.

Who-o-oa!

Mr Norma St John Scott,

a self-confessed player
of the pink oboe...

...you are now to retire
carefully to consider

your verdict of not guilty.

Sync and corrections by btsix
www.addic7ed.com