Original subtitles

THEME SONG PLAYING...

Good day.

A very good day to you, Mr Campion.

Our paths cross again.

I believe your name is Hayhoe.

It serves, it serves.

This is a most unexpected pleasure.

I was hoping for an interview with you today.

Though not quite so early. Admittedly.

An early riser, are you?

You're up early, too.

Watching the sun rise?

That...

And other things...

I believe you're investigating the death of that unfortunate man, Harris.

You know something?

I know that as far as the rest of the world is concerned,

Roland Peters, more commonly known as "Pig", was buried in May.

And the body that is now missing,

is that of Oswald Harris,

an equally obnoxious character

with a marked resemblance to Pig,

who met his end when someone shoved

a geranium urn on his head at the country club.

And as far as you are concerned?

I have some interesting information, which I might be prepared to give you.

Information which would take you a long time to amass on your own.

And which would lead you to a successful conclusion of the case.

Thereby enhancing your professional reputation.

This is not, I take it, a philanthropic gesture on your part?

Alas, no.

At the moment, my financial affairs are in considerable disorder.

But I'm sure that we can come to terms.

Was Harris by any chance a relation of yours?

A nephew, as it happens.

But not a very dutiful one.

He was a wealthy young man, and I...

Well, I do not choose to spend my holidays in a wretched workman's hovel.

Was Roland Peters your nephew, too?

I have several nephews. Or had.

May we get down to business?

I am asking 500 guineas

for a complete and confidential explanation of the whole affair.

Would that include the mole?

Oh, you know about the mole, do you?

You are perceptive.

Which is why I'm sure you will not reject my offer.

I am asking 500, how far will you meet me, Mr Campion?

Mr Hayhoe, if you know anything about the death of

your nephew, you should go to the police.

Ah, well. You had the opportunity.

Oh, no, no, no. One minute!

Don't be hasty, dear boy.

If you knew something important, you'd hardly talk about it.

Why not?

The police can take me in and bully rag me,

but they can't hold me, they've got nothing against me.

I possess an asset which I intend to realise.

If not to you, to someone else.

Oh, yes.

I have another likely purchaser in mind.

I wanted to give you first chance.

If you're thinking of Sir Leo...

Look.

I'm a reasonable man.

If I don't get satisfaction from another quarter I may drop my price.

Let's give it 24 hours.

Suppose we meet here tomorrow morning.

Seven o'clock.

And chat about the mole?

If you wish.

The mole.

And other things.

Tomorrow then.

At 7:00.

So you're back.

I trust you saw Ms Rowlandson home safely.

- Look, Janet... - It's quite all right.

You don't have to explain yourself to me.

Lugg.

I'm back.

What sort of time is this to wake anyone?

Sorry.

Especially someone who's already been up half the night.

I thought you might be worried about me.

I'm more worried about myself.

I need me eight hours,

if I'm gonna go dragging around the country after missing bodies and such.

Oh, you'd better lie in.

I won't bother to go to bed now, not worth it.

I'll wash, change, have an early breakfast with Leo.

Oh, there's been another development. I met this fellow Hayhoe on the way here.

I have a shrewd idea he knows...

I never liked the look of the fellow.

A name like Hayhoe, too.

We'll call him in for questioning.

I don't think I would, sir.

You want him left on the loose?

He can't be involved in the murder.

He's obviously blackmailing someone. I'd like to know who and why.

I'll get Pusey to put a man on him.

I only hope...

Well, I hope that whoever it is that he's blackmailing...

You're worried about Poppy?

Well...

Hayhoe kept pestering her, for some reason.

Not that I think for a moment she...

Poppy wouldn't hurt a fly.

Good, I caught you, it's Skinn, Sutain and Skinn.

I'm sorry?

The solicitors who dealt with Peter's affairs, they're in Lincoln's Inn.

Well, that's most helpful, Dr Kingston.

And they should know if there's any connection

between your Pig Peters and Oswald Harris.

The more I think about it, the more I think they were brothers.

It'll have to wait for the moment.

Oh, things are moving, are they?

You could say that.

The body has disappeared.

Really? I say!

Then you certainly won't have time to go and see the solicitors.

Would you like me to take the day off and go and see them for you?

Thank you, but I'll ask Leo to follow it up.

Well, anything I can do to help!

I'm just on my way to visit my young patient at the Knights and then I'm at your disposal.

Well, I was going down to the Knights too. Perhaps you could give me a lift.

Certainly, yes.

This patient of yours, is she one of the maids?

Flossy Edwards. Down with jaundice.

She must have been upstairs yesterday throughout the time leading up to Harris' death.

Oh, no, I think you're on the wrong track there.

Yeah. She's away, at the back of the house.

Good morning, Doctor.

Good morning, Albert.

See you later, Doctor.

Oh, I'm so glad you've come.

I want you to patch things up for me with Leo.

We had a bit of a...

...barney yesterday, as you probably gathered.

It was all my fault.

I told him a ridiculous lie.

About Hayhoe's visit?

You know.

I can't think why I did it.

But people down here are such dreadful snobs.

In my world, that is my old world, the theatre world,

there is no such thing.

As snobbery?

Except between legits and variety.

Principals and chorus.

But getting back to Hayhoe.

He is a bit of a bounder but quite human.

And we all have to live.

May I tempt you to one of my highballs?

American style.

Well, actually I make it up myself but it's rather fun.

Thank you.

So, Mr Hayhoe is a friend of yours?

Oh, not a friend, no! But...

When he came to me for help, well...

We've all been down on our luck, haven't we?

Did he borrow money from you?

Good Lord, no!

I may have lent him a pound or two.

He was very hard up, you see. Through no fault of his own, poor dear.

That wretched man Harris was his nephew.

There'd been some jiggery-pokery going on.

I forget the details, but Harris had done Hayhoe out of all his money.

And he wanted me to help him get it back.

So.

I showed him up to Harris' room.

You what?

Oh, don't worry.

Harris was there, and anyway that was days ago.

What happened?

There was an awful hullabaloo.

Hayhoe came running out with a flea in his ear.

Since which, he hasn't been near the place.

Except for yesterday afternoon?

When Leo saw him.

He jumped to all sorts of conclusions.

Why did he come?

To offer support.

He said that he knew what it was like being surrounded by standoffish country people

in your hour of trouble.

And could he help me.

As a man of the world.

I think he actually wanted a drink.

Uh, Poppy.

You said you remembered yesterday morning very clearly.

It isn't every morning that one has a murder on the premises.

Think carefully.

Was there anybody here earlier on?

Someone who left before Harris' demise?

No. No one.

Unless you count the vicar.

Bathwick!

Mmm-hmm. He always looks in mid-morning.

Has a highball like this.

And then trots off home via the kitchen garden.

I see...

Oh, how's Flossy?

Oh, she'll be feeling fine in a couple of days.

Don't let her do too much or eat too much fat.

Would you care to see her? Campion?

Hmm.

You want to question Flossy?

She was the only one upstairs and alone when the urn fell on Harris.

Poor little Flossy! She hasn't the strength!

Or the wit.

I didn't think she'd be much use to you.

The poor girl was scarcely in the land of the living herself at the time.

If she had been, I doubt she would have noticed much.

I wonder if Poppy does it deliberately.

I'm sorry?

Select staff whose intelligence quota is somewhat below par.

Well, I suppose she does, in a way.

It's her kind heart, all the lame dogs.

Mind you, I suppose it could be rather convenient.

Never know, she didn't want things noticed.

Is that what you're getting at?

Oh, no, Campion.

Poppy wouldn't hurt a fly.

Excuse me a moment, I'd like to have another look upstairs.

I say...

Do you mind if I come with you?

No, of course not.

I find all this quite fascinating.

I mean, why couldn't I have been a detective instead of a dull, old GP?

I say, look! Look at that scratch.

Oh, I had noticed.

But, I mean, does it tell you anything? I mean, it looks quite recent.

Do you think you want some fingerprints?

Come on. I've seen what I wanted to see.

Where are you off next?

Can I drive you anywhere?

No, thank you, Lugg's picking me up later.

Well, if you need me...

Just whistle.

Colonel.

He's a nice man.

He doesn't mean to be a ghoul, but he's bored, like so many people here.

Anyway.

It'll give him something to talk about to his patients.

I wonder if I might see the kitchen garden?

That's the way the vicar goes.

The meadow leads up to his house.

Poppy, could you find something out for me?

Unobtrusively.

What's that?

It's about yesterday morning.

I want to know if anyone was seen puttering about upstairs.

Perhaps someone who wasn't there later.

Bathwick, for instance.

First they bang him on the head, then they bang him in the river!

No satisfying some people.

Why the river?

I was in...

Hello, there. I was with Pusey.

It's an outrage!

Wanton mischief.

I wonder...

Chap was already dead!

What's the point of dumping him in the river?

That's what I say!

Water has a peculiar property, hasn't it?

It washes things.

How soon can you arrange the autopsy?

Where are we going now?

To see my old school pal, Whippet.

He keeps cropping up. Whippet in the anonymous letters,

Whippet and Effie Rowlandson, Whippet and his hunch about the river.

Funny, lad uses cold...

What are you waiting for?

Pop in and see if he's there, would you, Lugg?

I knew it would catch up on you.

Whippet?

Youngish fellow, brown hair.

Well, brownish.

I couldn't say.

Public school type.

Speaks like it was too much trouble.

Oh, yes! No, he's not here.

Did he sleep here last night?

I couldn't say.

Was he here at breakfast?

I believe he was.

Would you know when he's coming back?

I couldn't say.

And about Ms Rowlandson?

Young lady with blonde hair.

Oh, yes, I know her.

Is she here?

No, she'd be out.

Did Mr Whippet and her leave together or separate?

I couldn't say.

We kept lunch for you, sir.

Sorry I'm late, Pepper.

Ms Janet had hers some time ago, sir.

Oh. Do you know where she is?

In the rose garden, sir.

Will lunch keep a little longer?

And you still say you're not soft on her?

Well, I really thought I'd stay on for a while.

Might even rent a place.

Really?

Yes. I'm beginning to...

To share Constable's enthusiasm for this part of the world.

The wonderful skies?

And the wonderful eyes!

Whippet!

Hello, Campion.

Found you at last!

I've been searching for you all over the place.

I've been busy. Hello, Janet.

Why didn't you tell me you had such a nice friend?

How's it going?

The missing body, as you predicted, was found in the river.

I know. The village is terribly shaken by it.

I suppose there is some, um... You know, explanation.

You have some explaining to do yourself, Whippet.

Yes, I know, that's why I've come to see you.

There's Ms Rowlandson for one thing.

She's frightfully upset. I sent her down to the vicarage.

- The vicarage? - What on earth for?

Well... Help.

When in doubt, in the country, one always goes to the parson.

You know, good works, that sort of thing.

Oh, yes! And I think you ought to have a look at this, Campion.

Uh, someone slipped it under my bedroom door.

"He waiteth patiently. Peace and hope are in his warm heart.

"He foldeth his hands upon his belly."

"Faith is his that can remove the mountain or his little hill."

Funny. I didn't think anyone knew I was at the Feathers. Except you.

And I don't suppose you...

No.

Who's the "he"?

Mole again?

Hmm. His little hill.

A mole hill? Could be.

I suppose you two know what you're talking about.

Sorry! Well.

Um, I fancy I ought to go, now I've seen Campion.

Thank you for your kindness, Ms Pursuivant.

- It was a pleasure. - I hope to repay it.

I'll see you to your car.

Yes, this, this really is a Constable country.

You know, Whippet, you've still a lot to explain.

What are you doing in Kepesake?

Well, it's that girl, Effie.

She's a strong personality, you know.

I met her at Pig's funeral.

She sort of collected me.

Asked me to drive her down here yesterday. So, well, I did.

What about these letters?

I suppose one should tear them up.

It's very disturbing, but I, I like the mole.

Well, look me up when you've time and we'll, uh, go into it.

Goodbye.

Death is still working like a mole and digs my grave at each remove.

Honestly! You shouldn't let her pester poor Bathwick like that.

- Who? - You know perfectly well who!

It's bad enough your bringing her down here,

without letting her get her claws into somebody like that,

who can't possibly look after himself.

Are you sure Bathwick's such an innocent lamb?

Perhaps you haven't heard about his dip last night.

Told Leo some ridiculous story about falling into a dyke.

Now that Harris' body has turned up in the river,

he'll have to do better than that.

You think they'd suspect him!

Oh, no, how awful.

What's the matter?

You swear you won't laugh if I tell you?

I swear.

He didn't fall into a dyke.

He fell into our lily pond.

How do you know?

I pushed him.

You promised!

What happened?

Last night, after you took that female home, I came out here.

I saw someone by the pond.

It was him.

He came back to... Well, hoping to...

Offer you his hand and heart.

Actually, it was rather more than that.

I suppose it was the wine at dinner.

I pushed him away and he fell in.

No one else need know, need they?

No, I don't think so.

You're not so bad, really.

I'm awfully glad.

That I pushed him in the pond?

Yes. And you're wrong about Effie Rowlandson.

Last night, you were about to say something when Pepper told us she was here.

About that time in London... I...

- Beg pardon, sir. - I'm not hungry now, Pepper.

No, it's not that, sir. You're wanted on the telephone, sir.

A lady.

I've made those inquiries you wanted and no one saw the vicar come back yesterday.

But, my dear! Who do you think was seen trotting about upstairs?

Now, the girl who saw him naturally thought I'd given permission,

as she'd seen him here before. And he seemed so genuine, too!

Who are you talking about?

Who? Oh, sorry! Didn't I say?

It's Hayhoe.

You want me to arrest him?

At once. I should have let you do it earlier.

But we can't, we've no solid evidence against him.

Then pull him in on something else.

Trump up a charge?

Much as I'd like to see the fellow behind bars...

Please. Just keep him here for 24 hours.

It's imperative.

- Is young Brimble still watching Hayhoe? - Like a hawk, sir.

- Brimble? - Sir!

- Still there, is he? - Yes, sir. He's been in there all day.

That's his room, over there.

You can see him if you look.

Not that old trick!

You'd better put him back on dog licenses, Inspector.

I don't understand it. He were in here earlier. I brought him up a cup of tea.

How long ago was that?

That's... 40 minutes, I'd say.

He's not been gone long, then.

I never heard him go out!

He must have gone down the stairs in his stocking feet.

We must find him!

Have all your men mobilised?

Yes, sir. And I've called in a few more men.

The whole village will be on the lookout now.

See they search the hilltop, where his telescope is.

He'd have to go through the village to get there.

Couldn't do it without being seen.

Not unless he's a mole.

The moles, they travel underground.

I know.

We should know something in an hour or two.

I hope so.

Well, nothing you and I can do, but wait.

Might as well go and get a bite to eat.

You go and have your posh meal.

I'll be at the bar.

Sir Leo!

Campion!

What a bit of luck! I hear you've got your man on the run.

A patient told me. The whole place is agog. Is there anything I can do?

Uh. No, thank you.

But keep your eyes open.

You're looking tired. You mustn't overdo it.

Thank you.

- Monsieur. - Thank you.

Isn't that Bathwick?

And Effie Rowlandson.

- An odd trio. - Very.

We'd better ask them if they've seen Hayhoe.

Mr Campion.

Cooee!

And get that young lady down in the morning to identify the body.

Yes. There'll be a lot to do in the morning.

Plenty if we catch Hayhoe.

More if we don't.

Good for Hayhoe, I say. All them narcs out, he gives them the slip?

I shall be up at 6:00, Lugg.

Oh, lummie.

There's an appointment I want to keep at 7:00 sharp.

You're not going up there. Hayhoe is on the run for murder.

If he's caught, he'll be clapped in jail for life.

I shall still go.

Suppose I have to go with you. Make sure you don't get yourself bumped off.

No, you need your beauty sleep. I'd sooner go on my own.

But there is something I'd like you to follow up, later in the morning.

This is what you were afraid of.

He had something on the murderer.

Well, now he has two deaths on his hands.

Who, Campion? I can't believe it's anyone in Kepesake.

There's not a lot to go on. Cornfield was near the road.

The murderer wouldn't have had to carry the body far. If he did carry him!

It's my guess Hayhoe was killed on the spot.

There was a lot of blood around.

What on earth were they doing in the middle of a cornfield?

Having a very quiet, private interview.

I should like an opinion on the wound.

You shall have it. My old friend, Professor Farrington

will be along later to take a look at Harris.

What would you say it was done with?

Something narrow and sharp.

A dagger perhaps.

I say. Who could afford a car like that?

A bookie. Or a solicitor.

I'm so sorry I was unable to speak to you myself yesterday,

Sir Leo. I was in court.

Your partner was most courteous.

In view of the circumstances I'm seeing it was you, Sir Leo,

I thought I would come down myself.

How kind.

I looked through the papers last night.

The names, of course, had communicated themselves instantly.

Peters and Harris. Both clients of ours.

Were they brothers?

Yes. Mr Raymond Henry Peters changed his name to Harris for...

For good reasons of his own, no doubt.

He's comparatively new to our books. Our principal client

is his elder brother,

Mr Roland Isidore Peters,

who died last May.

I believe Harris received a considerable sum under his brother's will.

Indeed.

I can give you the exact figures if you wish, Sir Leo.

There was personal property, and insurance, of course.

It all seemed in order at the time.

Do you know who Peters was insured with?

Not offhand.

Mutual Ordered Life Endowment, I believe it was.

- I can look it up, if you wish. - If you would. Thank you.

I wonder, Mr Skinn, would you be prepared to take a look at the body yourself?

- You want me to identify Mr Harris? - Or Mr Peters.

As the case may be.

Well?

I'm afraid I can't be sure, Sir... Sir Leo.

It's 12 years since I saw Mr Peters,

and I only met Mr Harris just the once.

The dead man resembles them both,

insofar as one...

Do you think I might have a glass of water?

I'm sorry, Sir Leo, but I don't want to commit myself!

Never mind. We have someone else who should be able to identify him.

You have no right to ask a young lady to identify a body which has been lying...

I'm sorry, Reverend Bathwick, but I'm only following orders!

- It's all right, really! - It most certainly is not!

I never heard such an outrage.

Oh, hello, Mr Campion.

What seems to be the trouble?

- Well, it's like this, sir... - The trouble? You're prepared to subject a young lady

to a shattering ordeal because of the inefficiency of the police

and their hangers on!

As I recall, it was Ms Rowlandson's own request that she might see the body.

- Yes, Philip, it's ever so kind of you... - No!

She goes in there over my dead body.

Hmm. I think two dead bodies are quite enough for the time being.

And why are you so concerned about it?

Out of human decency.

Ah. Human decency.

If you'd care to follow me, Ms Rowlandson.

Which is it?

This one.

Yes. It's Piggy.

He'd have hated to be seen without his toupee.

I wasn't in love with him, but I'm sorry he's dead.

Satisfied?

I take my hat off to you, young man.

I can't be certain without a... A careful autopsy,

but I'd hazard a tentative guess that

he met his death sometime before he had yon crack on the head.

- Poison. - Yeah. Yeah, I wouldn't wonder.

I'd say this was in the nature of a blind.

You've got a clever man up against you, Mr Campion.

Yes.

Have Pusey send the body 'round to me, and I'll let you know for certain.

Right. Let's have a look at this other poor fellow.

Excuse me, missus.

He's out! And where I couldn't say.

Miss Rowlandson, is she out too?

Couldn't say.

Just one more question.

Do you know if Mr Whippet brought a typewriter with him?

- You couldn't say. - Oh, yes, I could!

Smart-looking portable one, it is, I seen it in his room!

This is from that solicitor chap pie.

The Peters who died in May had his life insured for £20,000

with Mutual Ordered Life Endowment.

Turned out very well for Harris.

I mean Peters. Oh, dear. It's all so confusing. I can't be sure which is which.

Only that they were both Pigs. Any news of the inquest?

It's been adjourned for 10 days to give us breathing space.

Which means we must get results, Campion!

Or I shall have to call in the Yard.

You're on to something, aren't you?

I know how the first murder was done, and I think I know who did it.

But I haven't any proof.

Will you give me another day?

Might as well, having gone this far.

And another thing, Leo.

Can you arrange a Home Office order for the exhumation of R.I. Peters

who was buried last May?

I think it's time we took a look at that body.

Well, I'll try. Identification after all this time?

In certain circumstances, it would be possible.

- Antimony in the body? - No.

It's a question of the soil.

Yes, yes, you may well be right. I remember Old Whitton,

the last gravedigger here, dragging me out of bed one morning.

He opened up a grave somewhere around here to put in the relative

of a dead woman and somehow the lid of the coffin had been dislodged,

but the body was almost perfect.

So there must be something preservative in the soil.

How did you guess?

Cow Parsley. I noticed it at Pig's funeral.

You often find it growing in soil like this.

It's lucky he chose this place to die.

His body might well be preserved.

So you're thinking of an exhumation?

I say, that's rather exciting!

I can't promise anything, nothing's fixed.

And for Heaven's sake, keep it under your hat.

Oh, rely on me.

I get bored at times! That's why something like this

is such a... An exciting thing to happen!

Large house. How do you manage?

Young Royle comes in from the village, local builder's son.

Jack-of-all-trades. When I have patients in,

I import a nurse and housekeeper.

Would you care to come in and have a drink?

Some other time.

Oh, yes! Yes, of course. You're busy.

Thank you for your help.

Anything else, just let me know.

Beautiful car!

And beautifully kept.

I'm afraid mine's not in the same class.

- Afternoon, Royle. - Afternoon, Doctor.

Where are we going now?

Look, this may take some time,

and then I shall go into the police station.

Why don't you take a stroll back to High waters and stay there.

I may need you.

And will that be days in Bottle Street.

- Whippet. - Campion.

It's you I've come to see.

Oh, I've been house hunting. Rather taken with this part of the world.

There's a little house down the road. Empty.

I like empty houses, don't you?

- May we get to the point? - Of course.

- Uh, what is the point? - Hayhoe?

Oh, yeah. Poor chap. I spoke to him a couple of times.

Hmm, not a frightfully nice fellow. Tried to touch me for a few quid.

What did you talk to him about?

Um, natural history. You know, flora and fauna.

And moles.

Yes, as a matter of fact we did.

Whippet, I think it's time we had our little chat.

You were right, it's poison. Chloral hydrate.

Lucky he was only in the water a short time or we couldn't have traced it.

He must have been dead already when yon stone urn crashed down on his head.

Either that or heavily drugged.

In which case he'd appear to be in a deep natural sleep.

Pepper.

- Pepper. - Yes, sir?

Oh, there you are. Have you seen Lugg?

- He's gone, sir. - Gone?

Well, he went as soon as he got your message.

What message?

Someone phoned him on your behalf and Mr Lugg packed his case and went at once.

- Went where? - I don't know.

Well, you must know.

- He took the field path. - Oh, my God.

- Is Sir Leo here? - No, sir. Nor Ms Janet.

Get me Dr Kingston's telephone number.

Yes, sir.

- Hello? - In here.

Ah, I'm sorry I've been a while. Car trouble.

I'm so glad you called me.

You know the area?

Yes. Poor old Lugg.

If anything's happened to him, I'll never forgive myself.

I know I'm maybe barking up the wrong tree,

but I'm still uneasy about that chap Whippet.

I can't see Whippet murdering anyone.

No, I know how you feel, old school friend and so on,

but I've been keeping an eye on him ever since I heard about his visits to Hayhoe...

- Oh, my God. I wonder... - What?

There's this empty house that he's been showing an interest in.

- You don't think that... - Well, it's possible.

Yes, he could have killed Hayhoe there too and then moved his body to the field.

Can you take me there?

Yes, we'd better use your car. It'll be quicker.

I'll just get my bag.

- Where is this place? - It's down the hill.

First left, and then on about a mile.

Pray God we're not too late.

Now just hang on a tick, old chap. Have some brandy.

No, there's no time to waste.

But you're in no state to help Lugg or anyone else.

Take a good swig, it'll steady you. It's doctor's orders.

All right. I do feel a bit shaky.

It's hardly surprising. Lack of sleep, I dare say, and now this shock.

Thanks.

- Down the hill, you say? - Yes.

Steady up.

- You all right? - I don't feel too...

Kingston, would you mind driving?

Oh, with pleasure.

I'll go around, you slide over.

I can't understand it. I feel so terribly...

Tired?

I can't seem to keep my eyes open.

Then close them, old chap.

Beautiful car.

- Goes like a bird. - We must find Lugg.

We will. Don't worry.

There's the house now.

Very secluded. No one would know if he's there.

Sleep sound, Mr Campion.

Carbon monoxide. Such an easy death.

That's why people choose it so often.

Now, I'll leave the engine running and go.

Suicide of a brilliant criminologist.

Really not quite brilliant enough.

I was too clever for him.

Too damned clever.

By half.

How did you...

Sorry, I should have mentioned, brandy gives me nightmares.

Thank God. Thought you were a goner.

I'm not all that hot on artificial respiration.

Kingston. Where is he?

Had to let him go. Couldn't cope with the two of you.

Lugg. We must find him before it's too late.

- Locked! - Conservatory.

You don't get 'round me with a bunch of grapes.

How many more times do I have to say it?

You could've warned me, couldn't you?

Told me he was leadin' me up the garden with your

"come and hold me hand" routine.

I thought he'd go for me. That's why I briefed Whippet.

It never entered my head.

Oh, yeah. That's you all over. Not a thought for me.

And what are my London friends gonna make of this, eh?

I've got my reputation to think of, you know?

You could always tell them the truth.

Oh, yeah. Tell 'em the local maniac needed a red-headed bloke to be dug up

in the absence of a corpse.

Who'll believe that?

How did he organise it all on his own?

I mean, the bricks and the coffin and everything.

He wasn't on his own. He had Pig Peters to help him.

Of course.

And the fellow who worked for him. The builder's son.

Young Royle.

I tumbled to that as soon as Kingston mentioned him.

In the country, the builder quite often helps out with burials.

I remembered seeing Young Royle at the funeral.

He was the one who stole the body, of course.

I always thought that lad had strange eyes.

I'm still a bit confused about the brothers.

- How many were there? - None.

Just one inimitable Pig as I suspected all along.

Had there been a brother, he too would have been at Botolph's Abbey.

Pigs major and minor? Unthinkable.

But why go to all that trouble pretending he died in May?

Well, the insurance, £20,000.

Pig needed a doctor in order to carry out the swindle.

He approached Kingston, who was more than a little dissatisfied with his life.

Tie up your medical chap and let Mutual Ordered Life Endowment

settle his financial problems.

Well, why didn't the plan work?

Pig being Pig tried to avoid paying Kingston his share.

Kingston wasn't having any. By then he was obsessed by the thought of the money.

So he contrived the accident with the urn.

And where did Hayhoe come into it?

He became suspicious of Kingston. Tried to blackmail him.

So then he committed a second murder.

And damn nearly a third.

Yes, you'd have looked pretty green if it hadn't been for Gilbert.

Oh, I didn't do that much.

Well, Campion phoned me after Kingston had agreed to pick him up here.

- I just followed the car. - But you did save his life.

Mr Whippet, forgive my asking.

But how do you fit into this extraordinary business?

Well, a bit complicated...

His little hands are sore and his snout bleedeth.

Gilbert is the son of Q. Whippet,

managing director of Mutual Ordered Life Endowment. Otherwise known as...

- M.O.L.E. - M.O.L.E.

When father became uneasy about the claim, I remembered Campion.

I thought the letters might intrigue him.

I prefer writing to action, you know.

You were always a lazy beast, Whippet.

He can move when he wants to.

One thing still puzzles me.

How could Kingston have killed Harris, that is, Peters,

if he was playing poker with me at the time the urn was pushed?

Ah, that came to me when I was drinking one of Poppy's highballs.

Kingston told me he met Harris alias Pig, on the stairs shortly before the murder.

In fact, he went to Pig's room and offered him something for his hangover.

Something laced with chloral hydrate.

Pig didn't realise how far he'd goaded Kingston,

and he took the dose without suspecting anything.

Then Kingston suggested that he slept it off on the lawn.

Why bother with the flower pot?

Why not just leave him there to die?

An added precaution.

After all, if Pig met with an accident, no one would suspect poison.

You see, he had a brainwave.

He remembered Poppy's ice cubes.

He came out here, having ascertained where Pig was sitting,

took the urn out of its socket,

and blocked it into position with two pieces of ice.

- Then he went downstairs. - And joined our game of poker.

All he had to do then was wait.

Until the ice melted and the urn fell.

How ghastly.

I'm so grateful, Campion. I knew you'd bring it home.

- I'll see you very soon. - Goodbye.

You have been so clever.

Sorry about the misunderstanding.

Goodbye, Mr Campion. Thank you very much.

Best of luck.

Albert, thank you.

- What for? - You were right, of course.

What I felt for you was just a silly schoolgirl crush.

But I've grown up now. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Looks like it's happy endings for everyone.

Yes.

That bloke Whippet. Comes down with Ms Effie Rowlandson,

goes off with Ms Janet Pursuivant

and without lifting a finger.

You have to hand it to him.

Lugg, would you like to walk home?

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