Original subtitles

Susan Ryeland?

Yes.

Jonathan Crace.

Hello.

Please.

Thanks.

Thank you for coming in.

Oh, your email didn't suggest I had much choice.

Well, I thought we should meet as soon as possible.

I have an interest in Eliot.

And not just because I'm his uncle.

You need to understand that it's fallen on me to control

books, films, TV,

merchandise, media interests, anything

relating to the Tiny People.

And suddenly, you've come out of nowhere asking

questions about the family.

You've been talking to Frederick Turner?

And to Dr. Lambert.

From what I understand, you seem

to be encouraging my nephew to come up

with scurrilous and quite possibly defamatory

recollections of his childhood.

I, I think you'll find that defamatory and scurrilous

mean the same thing.

If Eliot was unhappy, that's his problem.

It was a lovely place.

Most children would have been overjoyed

to live at Marble Hall.

Not Eliot.

And as to your suggestion that there might have been something

irregular about the way my mother

died, do you have any idea how offensive that is?

It was Eliot who suggested that, not me.

Poisoned?

With a bottle of cough medicine?

Is that the general idea?

Dr. Lambert signed the death certificate.

Mitral stenosis.

It wasn't unexpected.

Was Dr. Lambert named in her will?

No.

But Eliot was.

She was as generous to him as she's always been.

You might like to know that that family

home where he's now living was paid for entirely by her.

That doesn't invalidate his version of events.

I think he should be careful what he says.

And you should be careful before you repeat it.

Is that a threat?

I leave the threats to my lawyers.

But you need to understand that, it's a very

delicate time for the estate.

Oh, yes.

The, the deal with Netflix.

A chance to introduce the Tiny People

to a whole new generation.

And to make $200 million along the way.

Come.

Roland.

This is Susan Ryeland.

She's working with Eliot.

- Oh, nice to meet you. - Oh, and you.

Yes, I heard...

Gillian said that you met you.

Have you invited Susan to the party?

No.

But of course you're welcome to come.

A party?

20 years since my mother's death.

I'll email you an invitation.

Roland, perhaps you could show Susan out.

I am sorry about Uncle Jon.

And whatever you may think, this place isn't actually

the evil empire, and he isn't quite Darth Vader,

even if he'd like to be.

Ha!

It's actually the most inspiring place to work.

The Tiny People, they're...

well, they're still adored by millions all over the world.

You know, I visit cancer wards, and I

see kids clutching the books as they're wheeled into chemo.

And you wouldn't believe the amount of, letters, emails

I still get every week.

How long have you worked here?

Six years.

And no, Eliot still hasn't forgiven me.

But you're in touch with Gillian?

Well, we try and look after her, yeah.

He doesn't make it easy though.

I don't suppose you fancy a spot of lunch, do you?

Yeah.

Yeah, that would be good.

Thank you.

Oh, thank you.

You know Eliot still thinks your grandmother was a monster.

Well, she was.

Here's where I like to go, just over here.

Oh, handy.

I only get half an hour.

Darth Vader.

To be fair, it's a super busy time right now with the Netflix

deal, but the thing you have to understand about Uncle Jon

is that the Tiny People are his whole life.

I mean, he was more or less running

the estate when he was my age.

One time, Grandma threatened

to sell the IP to, an outside company,

nearly killed him.

Why would she want to do that?

No reason.

Just to spite him.

Wow.

Eliot's right about Marble Hall.

It was a...

creepy, horrible place to grow up.

And Miriam, every bit as bad as he probably told you.

No, we are survivors, my sister Julia, Eliot and me.

Where's Julia?

- She's head of geography. - At a school in Pimlico.

Right.

Actually, you might meet her at the, party, if she comes.

So why have you and Eliot fallen out?

I mean, I mean we haven't.

He just, he, he's not happy that I work

for the estate, that's all.

He, he sees it as a betrayal.

Do you believe that your grandmother was murdered?

Well, that's very direct.

Well, you've only got half an hour.

No.

I know that's what Eliot thinks, but he's wrong.

She died of a heart attack.

W-What about the medicine that Eliot

stole from Dr. Lambert's bag?

It was cough mixture, Susan.

It was...

It was, it was a fantasy.

A fantasy that was played out a few days before she died.

Okay, have you ever read George's Marvelous Medicine?

Roald Dahl?

Yeah, of course.

That's what we did.

We made a secret potion.

We wanted to kill the Wicked Witch, Eliot, Julia and me.

But it was make-believe.

And she never drank it.

Never went anywhere near her, so.

Look, I, I love Eliot, and I do, I want to help him.

But, I'm sorry, Susan.

I mean, he's leading you literally up the garden path.

What are you doing here, Eliot?

And how do you even know where I live?

Matthew Flynn told me.

And I have something I think you might like.

Well, you'd better come in.

Black, two sugars.

You look like you need it.

I had a bit of a night of it.

Does your wife know where you are?

What makes you think Gillian gives a damn?

Oh, I was at my club, Boone's, in Notting Hill.

That's where I go when I want to get away from her.

Right.

So what do you want?

I never thought of you as a cat lady.

Eliot, do you have something for me?

'Cause I'm sure this isn't just a social visit.

Yes.

The next 10,000 words.

Thank you.

I'll have a look this afternoon.

Oh, I took your advice, by the way.

I went down to Marble Hall. Oh, God.

Did I advise that?

Well, I thought it might be good to visit

the scene of the crime.

And I met Frederick Turner.

I often wondered what he must have thought,

being pensioned off as some sort of high-level tour guide.

Do you think it'll amuse him, turning up

as a detective in your book?

Uncle Fred needs a laugh.

Did Achilles Vasilikos lose an eye in a car accident?

God, no. No.

He was blown up in the war.

You'll read about it in there.

Right.

You know Uncle Fred never told the truth about the accident.

He was drunk.

How do you know that?

I don't.

It's what we all believed.

And he always did like a drink.

Will he be at the party?

Will you?

I'm not sure.

I haven't decided yet.

Oh, I've been invited on the radio, "Front Row."

Why?

Well, for the anniversary.

They want me to talk about Grandma.

But you're not gonna do it.

Why not?

Well...

Well, Eliot, your book isn't out yet.

I mean, there's no point.

Well, what about advance publicity?

By the time it comes to publish your book,

people will have forgotten.

And saying negative things about your grandmother really

isn't gonna help you.

Oh, you sound just like my Uncle Jonathan.

Oh, I met him, too.

Well, you've been getting around.

You're on his side.

There are no sides, Eliot.

This is all that matters.

Please, Eliot, think very carefully

before you go on the radio.

It's too late, Susan.

I've already said yes.

Well, then be careful what you say.

When we come to publicize the book,

it will really help that you're Miriam's grandson.

She still sells millions.

And whatever you think of her, you do not

want to alienate her readers.

I'll do my very best not to.

Do you want me to come with you?

No, Susan.

I just want you to support me and believe in me.

No one else does.

Notting Hill, please.

Lady Chalfont was killed by a aconitine.

But where did it come from?

The man we are going to see is called Yorgos Leonidas.

For 60 years he's had a shop at the market at Kassiopi.

He collects and sells every herb on the island,

even the most poisonous ones.

He may not wish to speak to us.

It is said that aconitine is so poisonous

that the ancient Greeks believed it was made with foam

from the mouth of Cerberus.

The dog that guarded the gates of hell.

But like all poisons, it has its medicinal uses.

Local farmers mix it with wine as an antidote

to scorpion bites.

It's a common painkiller.

And there are some who even apply it to their scalp

as a hair restorative.

Now, Leonidas is 84 years old and speaks no English,

so you'll have to leave this interrogation to me.

I'm entirely in your hands, Police Lieutenant.

Are you not well?

It's nothing.

I'm not used to the heat.

Was Mr. Leonidas able to help you?

Yes.

He clearly remembers selling aconitine on the very morning

that Lady Chalfont died.

Can he describe the person who purchased it?

Not exactly, no.

Leonidas says that the man who approached him

spoke little Greek.

He was dressed in a white suit with sunglasses

and a straw hat.

To hide his identity.

Possibly.

Leonidas did notice that beneath the hat,

the man had white hair.

It's also his opinion that the man was a doctor.

How did he come to that conclusion?

First, the man said he required the powder

for a patient he was treating.

And?

He smelled of surgical spirit.

That, that is interesting.

Do we know at what time this mysterious gentleman

visited the shop?

It was exactly 12:00.

Leonidas heard the church bell strike the hour.

Do you believe that the man who purchased the aconitine

was Elmer Waysmith?

A foreigner with white hair?

It would seem most likely.

The road from here to Corfu Town is crowded and slow.

Would it be possible to make the journey in an hour?

It is difficult.

There is only the one road.

Animals, potholes.

And on the market days, many vehicles.

I don't think he could have done it.

And yet Elmer Waysmith told us that he had

lunch with his son at 1:00.

Yes, we went to Vatsalo, in the port,

and it was definitely 1:00 'cause my father

hates unpunctuality.

We stayed there a couple hours

and then came back to the house.

Thank you, Maria.

Where, where is he now, your father?

Oh, he's with a client.

A man named Lucas Dorfman.

He lives on the island.

Thank you.

And, he actually just bought rather a fine piece.

Lucas, I think you'll be very happy.

It's a wonderful purchase.

Thank you.

Take care.

All right, easy does it.

Through the back.

Yep.

Enjoy.

It's strange.

No?

That your father has returned to work so soon after the death

of his second wife.

That's Pa for you.

It was the same when my mother died.

You know she took her own life?

Your father told us, yes.

Well, he was in Zurich with his business partner, Eric.

Verner, and they were in the middle

of some business negotiations, so he didn't come home.

He left you alone?

Didn't care about me.

I mean, work comes first with him.

That's just how he is.

What was your father wearing when the two of you had lunch?

Why do you want to know that?

Just answer the question.

A blazer.

A lilac one, I think.

And pleated trousers, loafers.

Was he carrying anything?

Such as?

A case, perhaps.

Why would he be carrying a case?

He just came straight from the house.

How was he that day?

I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Pünd.

His mood, the way he appeared.

You mean, did he look like someone who was

planning to murder his wife?

No.

But then again, if he was, would I tell you?

You would protect a killer?

I would protect my family.

Of course I would.

But I don't need to protect my father.

No, he can look after himself.

I hope you didn't give too much away when

you spoke to Miss Ryeland.

I can assure you I chose my words very carefully.

Why did you have lunch with her?

I was doing my job.

Head of PR, that's what you made me,

which means keeping a lid on this family's

dirty little secrets.

We have no secrets.

Oh, really?

So grandmother wasn't a bully?

Never made us dance to her own tune?

Didn't sleep with every single man that came anywhere

near her?

We have no secrets from each other.

Your job is to protect us from the world.

That includes Susan Ryeland.

Believe me, she's trouble, Roland, and not just

because she's working with your idiot brother.

Eliot's not an idiot.

I'd say you've treated him like one.

Certainly a bit late to be taking his side.

So why'd you invite her to the party then?

I didn't really have much choice after you

mentioned it in front of her.

Well, maybe it's not such a bad idea, keeping her on the inside

where we can see her.

We can see her easy enough.

The question is, can we control her?

So, how's the book going?

Pünd's Last Case?

Let's just hope it is.

I thought you weren't gonna do anymore.

I wasn't.

I've had quite enough of Alan Conway in my life.

But what can I do?

I need the money.

So, Dave, do you read murder mysteries?

No, not really.

Probably too busy for books.

No.

Well, I like films.

Anything you can recommend?

We saw the new Alien film last week.

It was quite intense.

In space, no one can hear you scream.

I'm really sorry.

I have to take this.

I, I won't be long.

I'm sorry.

I'm just having dinner.

Give me a minute.

I'm just going somewhere quiet.

So that's Dave.

He's quite shy.

I've noticed.

Don't judge him on your first meeting, Susan.

I'm not judging him.

He just doesn't say very much, that's all.

Well, he's different when you get to know him.

He's very generous and brilliant at his job.

What was it that you said he does for a living?

I've told you.

You don't even remember.

He's an investment fund manager.

No, no.

You didn't say that.

You just said he worked in finance.

Where did you meet him?

Online.

No way.

Don't act so surprised, Susan.

Everybody does it.

I used a site called Engaged.

It's very good.

You should give it a go.

I only just got back to the UK, and it's only been

a few weeks since Andreas.

And anyway, I'm happy on my own.

Really?

Yes.

As the sun rose over the island of Corfu, Atticus.

Pünd and Detective Achilles Vassilikos seemed

unable to agree on the truth.

Let us assume that you are correct,

and it was indeed Elmer Waysmith

who visited the Kassiopi market at 12 o'clock.

That is what I believe.

He appears for lunch with his son one hour later.

Not only has he traveled along a crowded road,

he's also changed his appearance.

The white suit, the hat.

Where would he have gone to do that?

That's a good question, and,

it's one to which I, I may have an answer.

Hotel Poseidon.

Where did you get this?

At the Villa Belmar.

It was on the table when the will was read.

And you see?

Well, well, well.

Yes, I remember him very well.

He had white hair, barely spoke a word.

He took the room for two nights.

You are English, Mrs. Androlakis?

Yes, I was born in London.

I came here as a tourist 30 years ago

and ended up marrying a Greek for my sins.

I think you've met my daughter.

The assistant to Mr. Lambrose.

That's my Sophia.

It helps her being bilingual.

She told me about poor Lady Chalfont.

Is that what all this is about?

Do you think somebody did a...

The man with white hair, can you remember his name?

Oh, not offhand, but he had to sign the register.

Let me see now.

Wednesday, yes.

Here he is.

He took the room for two nights, Wednesday and Thursday.

Mr. Ford.

John Ford.

That's the name of an American film director, I believe.

A false name.

It's written in capitals.

It's just eight letters.

Making it easier to disguise the handwriting.

But the color of the ink.

Oh, that is interesting.

Turquoise.

Same color used by Elmer Waysmith.

Mrs. Androlakis, can we see the room he stayed in?

Yes, I can take you up now.

Oh, my name is Valerie.

Do please call me Val.

Everyone else does.

I saw him two, three times.

Average height, white suit, not a particularly friendly sort.

He didn't say a word to me, but he took

the best room for two nights, so I'm not complaining.

And here's a funny thing.

He didn't sleep in the bed.

And how do you know that?

Well, I make all the beds, as well as doing the cooking,

cleaning, and reception.

You think I wouldn't notice?

Please.

This is your best room?

Absolutely.

It is.

You won't find a better view in all Corfu.

And look here, en suite toilet and shower.

It is, in every respect, a charming room.

The man who stayed here, he had luggage?

Yes, a single case.

He was carrying it when he arrived.

You never spoke to him?

I did try.

I like to be friendly, but I told you,

he wasn't having any of it.

When...

When did you last see him?

Well, that would have been Friday

morning about half past 10:00.

I saw him go out wearing a white linen suit.

He also had sunglasses and a hat.

A Panama hat, I think.

Did he return?

Well, he must have done, but I didn't see him.

The next time I came up to the room, there was no sign of him.

The room was empty.

The door was open and the key was on the table by the bed.

He left nothing behind?

No.

And as I told you, he hadn't slept in the bed,

although he did take a shower.

Oh, no, I found an old newspaper

in the waste bin, the New York Mail, and a tin of shoe polish.

It was empty, under the bed.

Shoe polish?

Spatz.

I'm sure that was the name.

But I'm afraid I threw them both out.

Spatz.

I believe that is an American brand.

Spatz.

That's...

Herr Pünd?

Please, a glass of water.

A glass of water, quickly!

Are you feeling better?

Very much.

Thank you.

I can call for a car.

Oh, no, no.

Sitting here in the shade with the breeze, I'm much improved.

You are not well, Herr Pünd.

How bad is it?

It's final.

I'm sorry.

I came here to Kerkyra because this

was the home of my ancestors.

But you are German.

Did you receive your injuries in the war, Police Lieutenant?

Yes.

It was in April 1941.

I was serving on the Metaxas line when the German

18th Mountain Corps attacked.

My commander tried to surrender,

but he was taken down by machine gun fire.

And then a hand grenade was thrown into the tunnel

where 10 of us were concealed.

I am sorry.

Are you?

You invaded us.

I did not fight.

I was born in Germany, but I come

from a family of Greek Jews.

I was a police officer in the '30s, but I made the mistake

of speaking out against the Nazis and,

as a result, I spent the war in a prison camp.

I also was imprisoned.

Then, our experiences are in some ways similar.

I must apologize, Herr Pünd.

It, it would appear that, my experiences

have informed the way that I have behaved towards you.

There's no need for an apology, my friend.

The war has cast a long shadow, and its darkness,

it reaches us even now.

This is the restaurant where Elmer Waysmith and his son

had lunch on the day that Lady Chalfont died.

A-ha.

This is the very table.

I think a light lunch in the shade would do us both good,

do you not think?

I think that is an excellent idea.

You're listening to Front Row with me,

Samira Arvid.

This year marks the 20th anniversary

of the death of one of the UK's best-loved children's authors.

Miriam Crace was the inventor of The Tiny People, the series

of books about a miniature family who are devoted

to helping the big 'uns, which is how they

describe the rest of humanity.

Her grandson, Eliot Crace, is himself a published author,

and he's with me now.

Welcome to Front Row, Eliot.

I imagine you had quite an unusual childhood.

Well, that's one word for it, Samira.

Well, Miriam was born in 1926.

Her father was a church organist,

and apparently she got the idea for the Tiny People

from an image in a stained-glass window.

And she was born color-blind, which is something

not many people know.

Yeah, that's why all the illustrations in her books

were in black and white.

She was married to Arthur Crace, a junior civil servant.

Do you have any memories of him?

Not really.

I was nine years old when he died.

But Marble Hall was full of all these stuffed animals.

You know, taxidermy, that was my granddad's hobby.

He would sit in one of the towers

for hours fiddling about with dead birds and things.

I think he only did it to get away from her.

You should have stopped this from happening.

How was I supposed to do that, Uncle Jon?

If you can't do your job, Roland,

I'll find someone who can.

I was at school.

I was actually bullied for being her grandson.

And there were times when I hated the Tiny People.

What do, what does he think he's doing?

Is he doing this on purpose?

I mean, I know everyone loves the books

and they are great, and they sold tons of copies.

I'm just saying that it wasn't a lot

of fun growing up with them.

As devious as ever.

And Grandma was always out there,

you know, meeting famous people and going to film premiers

and fancy hotels, while we were just waiting

at home for her to come back.

I'm sorry.

You are a published author yourself.

Did you tell her you wanted to be a writer?

Yeah, yeah, I did.

In fact, I showed her one of the first things I ever wrote.

Don't do it, Eliot.

It was a story called "Space Boy."

She read it.

She didn't think it was any good at all.

I mean, she more or less tore

it to pieces in front of me.

But that was the way with her.

She didn't hold back.

I'm sorry.

It's, it's fairly clear your grandmother

then didn't inspire you to become a murder-mystery writer.

Well, actually, in a funny way, she did.

You see, everyone says that she died of a heart attack,

but that's a lie.

What do you mean?

The night she died, I saw someone going into her room.

And in the morning, she was dead.

She was poisoned.

No, no, no, no, no.

The little swine.

It's not true.

Of course it's not.

Eliot, you were only 12 years old when your grandmother died,

and it was well-known that she had been ill for a long time.

Isn't it possible that you had more imagination

than she gave you credit for?

I know what I saw, Samira.

Did you tell the police?

Oh, couldn't.

Not then.

But things have changed.

My new novel is set in Corfu in 1955,

but it's inspired by what I saw at Marble Hall.

And I've put a secret message in it.

That's what Alan Conway used to do before he died.

He hid things in his books, anagrams and stuff like that,

and so I'm doing the same.

Do your publishers know this?

Nobody knows.

Well, except me and the person I saw.

Eliot Crace.

Thank you for coming on Front Row.

Thank you, Samira.

It's been my pleasure.

Something is wrong.

There's a very great deal that is wrong, Police Lieutenant.

Let us try to follow in the footsteps of Elmer Waysmith,

if indeed it was he who had a room at the Poseidon Hotel.

We know he leaves the hotel here in Kerkyra at half past 10

wearing a white linen suit and a hat.

He buys the aconitine at 12:00 from the market in Kassiopi.

But just one hour later, he returns to Kerkyra

to this very restaurant for lunch.

Robert, there you are.

Hello, Pop.

Vasili updated the board today.

And according to his son Robert,

he's now wearing a lilac-colored jacket

and carrying no suitcase.

This raises two questions.

How'd he get back from the market so quickly?

And what happened to the suitcase?

He returned to the Hotel Poseidon,

and he showered and changed his clothes.

We know that he had a suitcase when he arrived at the hotel,

but somehow between there and here, it disappeared.

I wonder.

Anything?

I'm going to stink of fish for the rest of today.

My apologies.

Nothing more than I deserve.

Wait.

There is something.

It is exactly as we thought.

What?

Come on, what's inside?

He changed his clothes just as you described.

But we still don't know how he drove back so quickly.

Perhaps he did not drive.

It doesn't work.

Why would Elmer dump his suitcase in the bin?

Why not just drop it in the sea?

That is a good question.

And I have another.

Does the question have an answer?

Thought not.

Go on.

Why the shoe polish?

Hi, Elaine.

Susan, I'm sorry to call you again.

It's about Eliot.

I'm with Gillian.

She's rather upset.

Can you come round?

I'm on my way.

I don't know what to do.

I just don't know what to do.

- Calm down, Gillian. - Yeah.

It's gonna be all right.

Where's Eliot?

We had a fight.

He's not hurt you?

No, no.

He would never do anything like that.

Tell her.

I love Eliot.

I do love him.

At least, I, I try to.

So what happened?

I met someone.

I didn't want it to happen, but couldn't stop myself.

And he found out?

He's known for a while.

He saw a text message on my phone.

I was so stupid.

I never wanted to hurt him, and I told him that it was over,

but then, this morning, I took a test.

You're pregnant?

Yeah.

But it's not his?

Eliot can't have children.

We had spoken about doing IVF, but...

You told him?

I had to.

And now I'm so frightened, because he

was, he was screaming at me, and then he, he stormed off.

But that isn't, that, that isn't the worst of it.

Eliot has tried to kill himself twice before.

Oh, God.

Yeah, and he, he took a knife, and he took it with him,

and he's gonna use it.

Thank you for coming.

Yeah.

Has she told you who the father is?

I asked her.

She refuses to say.

What are you gonna do?

I'm gonna look for Eliot.

Where do you even start?

I think I know somewhere.

Bye.

Hi.

Can you help me?

I'm looking for Eliot Crace.

And I wondered if he'd been in recently,

or if anyone knows where I might find him?

Eliot?

He's upstairs.

- Oh, he's here? - Yeah.

Can I go up? Yeah.

Second floor.

Right, thanks.

Eliot.

What're you doing here?

What does it look like?

I've just seen Gillian.

She told me what happened.

She's worried sick about you.

Worried sick or morning sickness.

What do you think?

Why did you take the knife?

She was afraid you were gonna use it on yourself.

No, Susan.

Should I tell you the truth?

I was gonna use it on her.

That's what I was gonna do.

"Murder writer murders wife."

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

- Great publicity. - Eliot.

What are you doing here?

You're my editor, not my therapist.

You've been creeping around, talking

to Jonathan and Frederick and Gillian and bloody Roland.

Why don't you just stay out of my private life?

How can I stay out of your private life

when you put half of it in your book?

Look, I'm sorry about what's happened,

but this really isn't helping.

No, no.

I'll tell you what's not helping.

You're not helping.

I don't want you in my life messing things up.

That is really unfair.

Life is unfair.

And if you had my life, you'd know that.

So get out of here.

Leave me alone.

So you came!

I'm still not sure I want to be here.

Why not?

Everyone else is.

Anyway, I wasn't going to come without you.

How is Gillian?

She was much better when she heard that Eliot

hadn't knifed himself.

Part of me wonders if he wouldn't

have been doing her a favor.

Don't say that.

Elaine Clover.

Susan Ryeland.

You're good.

Thanks.

Thank you very much.

Can I take that?

Thank you.

Excuse me.

You're Susan Ryeland.

Yes.

Do we know each other?

We haven't met, but I heard you

give your name at reception.

I'm Julia Crace.

Eliot's sister.

You know I'm working on his book?

Yes, yeah.

He told me I was in it.

Oh. H, well, there's a character

who's a doctor of archeology, but she's

called Judith, not Julia.

- Oh, well... - Thanks.

I suppose that's Eliot's little joke.

I teach geography at a state school in Pimlico.

Do the children know who you are?

Oh, God, no.

They're still crazy about Miriam's books.

The library has multiple copies.

On World Book Day, they come in dressed as the Tiny People.

I had to change my name in order to get a moment's peace.

Was Miriam really as unpleasant as Eliot makes out?

Oh, much worse.

It's only thanks to my brother, Roland, that the three of

us survived.

Then why are you here?

I signed an NDA.

We all did.

This is the only place I get to talk about what a cow she was.

Hold this, please.

Thank you.

Good evening, Susan.

Oh, Frederick.

How nice to see you again.

And it's Brenda, isn't it?

I really enjoyed your tour.

I have to say, I didn't expect to see you here tonight.

Well, it's hard to keep me away.

I'm almost part of the family now.

They've adopted you too.

Oh, not quite.

You know, after we met, there was

something I meant to ask you.

You said when you were brought to Marble Hall

that you had a room in the eaves,

not in the main part of the house.

Was that your choice?

Don't remember.

Why do you want to know?

Well, it just seems strange that you were

separated from everyone else.

It wasn't strange.

I had a view of the stars.

I could hear the night owls.

It was a lovely, cozy room and I couldn't have been happier.

Let's talk to, Dr. Lambert.

Yes, that's a good idea.

Dr. Lambert.

How are you?

Hello, Jonathan.

Susan.

I'm a little surprised you decided to show your face here.

Well, you invited me.

Who is this?

Susan Ryeland, this is my wife, Leila.

You're the one working with Eliot.

Yes, that's right.

How's the book going?

I can't wait to read it.

You're not going to read it.

Why don't you get yourself another drink?

I haven't finished this one.

But you will.

That broadcast on Front Row was a disgrace.

What makes you think I had anything to do with it?

Didn't you?

I tried to talk Eliot out of it.

And before you ask, I had no idea what he was going to say.

Well, it's fortunate that by and large the media seem to be

ignoring the whole thing.

They can recognize self-publicity

when they see it.

Then why are you worried about it?

You're the one that should be worried.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make a speech.

Can I talk to you, Susan?

Would you mind?

Yes, of course you can talk to me, Leila.

Not here, but soon.

Will you call me?

Yes, of course.

Soon.

Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.

Good evening.

First of all, I'd like to thank you all for coming.

This is both a happy and sad occasion.

20 years since my mother's death,

but, we can celebrate the fact that her legacy is still

as strong as ever and that the Tiny People are

still out there saving us big 'uns

from our own worst mistakes.

And they're going to be bigger than ever following the deal

we're about to sign with Netflix.

Three seasons, 36 episodes.

Ladies and gentlemen, forgive the interruption,

but I think we should toast to someone in the room.

A very special person because they're

the one who killed my grandma.

I can see them right now.

They did us all a favor.

What are you doing?

You know who you are.

Stop!

Now!

Stop!

Now!

And when my book comes out...

- Eliot. - Everyone will know it too.

Somebody cut the mic.

Eliot, don't do this.

Oh, look.

It's Susan Ryeland, my editor.

Well, ex-editor actually.

I'm firing her -because she's bloody useless.

- What are you doing? - You're drunk.

I'm going to take care of it.

- This is all your fault. - What?

Security!

Get her out of here!

Jonathan, this has got nothing to do with me.

Eliot, you either leave right now

or I'll have you thrown out as well.

What?

Leave her alone!

It's all right.

You have no right to do that!

Don't get involved.

Get off!

Don't let this spoil...

Don't let this spoil your evening, ladies and gentlemen.

I'm ready to go home.

More drinks?

What did you mean, Eliot?

What are you doing?

And some music.

That went well.

Where's Eliott?

I think he's left.

I'm going to find him.