Original subtitles

Frere jacque, frere jacque, dormez vous, dormez vous,

sonnez les matines--

Why didn't you come in?

-I was waiting for you to stop.

-No.

I don't stop, Laura, you come in.

That's the point-- it's a row.

-Oh, like

"London's burning." -Yes.

-Oh, we used to do those at school.

-Ah, a sort of fugue.

-Well why don't we do "London's burning?"

-Because "frere jacque" is more appropriate.

-Ooh, careful.

-Oh, blasted car.

-What's wrong with the car?

-I don't know.

You put your foot on the break, it stops.

You put your foot on the

accelerator and it goes faster.

It's a hopeless thing.

-It's unforgivable.

Not at all like the old land rover.

-Oh, she's got character.

-Oh, look at that view.

Can we stop and stretch our legs?

-Uh huh.

There we go.

Look at that.

-Oh, wow.

What's that wonderful smell?

-Violets, lavender, mimosa, the sea, the riviera.

-Oh, it's so beautiful here.

-Are we going to try and make it more so?

That's ....

There.

-Well we'll be there in 10 minutes.

-You didn't mind giving the island a miss, do you?

-Um, well, I was rather looking forward to the roman

burial ground.

-Ah.

Neither was I. Only I haven't seen Dorothy for years.

-Do you think she'll mind us pitching up a day early?

Dorothy?

No.

She's a free spirit, like me.

-Oh.

Help.

-This is a private road.

-It is not a private road.

-Yes it is.

I can prove it.

-It belongs to the residents.

-Exactly.

-Are you saying the residents aren't allowed to have

visitors, if they can prove who they are?

-You know who I am.

Excuse me. -No I don't.

-James, for heaven's sake.

-I am not going to have blasted buses blocking my

drive all day.

-Can we just--

-And you have no to encourage these blasted trippers.

-I am not a tripper and this is not a bus.

-Stop.

No, you can't go--

Stop!

-God!

-Don't be such a tourist.

-You've got to admit it's pretty impressive.

What, did she win millionaire or something?

-No, she married one.

-Oh.

Oh, mother.

Where did I go wrong?

-Not here.

-Well they must be here.

-We are a day early, remember.

Not tonight, no.

Tonight.

-At the end of the week.

Don't come end of the week stuff with me.

You're always weaseling out of it.

-But it's difficult, Nick.

-Because the way he is, isn't he?

-But you know he is.

-Uh, hello!

Dorothy!

I

-Who are you?

-It's me, Rosemary.

Rosemary.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I was, um--

-We're a day early.

Is that all right?

-No, no, no no.

It's lovely.

This is--

That was Nick Becket, my nephew.

-Is Dorothy in?

-How should I know?

-No way at all, Nicholas, no way at all.

-It's a question of trying to get back to

The original planting.

Now this plan here should give you a pretty good idea.

-How long has it been since the gardens have

Had any major work?

-Oh, 40 years, probably.

It's dreadfully neglected.

Some of the stonework is positively unsafe.

But we've got a local firm dealing with that.

If we want to open the gardens to the public though, it's

important to identify the plants that are still here and

try and replace any that have been lost.

-How big are the gardens all together?

-Just over 40 hectors--

About 100 acres.

-Wow.

-Now, this other plan is from the

survey we had done recently.

And Casper will explain all that when

he gets back tomorrow.

He's been in switzerland for a few days.

-Is your nephew staying with you?

-Oh, Nick's a terribly clever painter.

He loves it down here.

-James has done mad.

-Oh, don't.

Hello, Quentin.

-Excuse me.

... Agathe.

-You must be the wonderful horticulturist Dorothy's been

Bragging about.

-Oh, that-- that was an altercation you were

Having up the road?

I'm chairman of the trusted administry's garden.

It's a scandal they haven't been open

to the public long since.

But um, poor James doesn't want that.

He lives next door.

Mind you, even Casper himself's not all that keen,

In spite of the tax advantages.

He's a very bitter, old man.

-Dorothy's husband?

Well, that must put the kibosh on it.

-Fortunately, no.

He made the villa on the ground, sold it over to

Dorothy some years back for his own devious tax reasons.

-I'm so sorry.

I-- ... I--

I've got to go out.

Oh, what a bloody nuisance.

I'm--

I'm sorry, Quentin.

Was there something in particular you

wanted to see me about?

-Nothing that won't wait until tomorrow.

-Righto.

-I rather fancy the ...

-I need a bit of help here.

What's *** ?

-Chicken roasted on a spit.

-Do me.

-You know who he is, don't you?

-Quentin Glazer.

He writes those paperbacks with embossed covers you find

At airports.

-Oh, him.

All about hidden nazi treasure and ghostly u-boats.

Yeah, Matthew likes those.

-Bonsoir.

-Ah, bonsoir.

-Where'd you suppose Dorothy went?

She just dashed off.

-I have no idea.

I'm a little puzzled about Dorothy.

-Why?

-You know the chap she was talking to when we

arrive at the house?

She said he was her nephew, didn't she?

-Yes, that's right--

Nicholas something.

-She hasn't any brothers or sisters.

-How do you know that?

-I've known her since we were eight.

-Well, maybe when she said "nephew," she meant, uh--

You know, "nephew."

-Oh, no, no.

Dorothy is not that kind of woman.

-Excuse me.

May I introduce myself?

My name is James Pretty.

-How do you do?

-I know who you are, of course.

Dorothy's told me.

Look, I'll come straight to the point.

I have a little proposition that I would like to put to

You.

-Well, what sort of proposition?

Well, why don't you come see me tomorrow at my house, and

I'll fill you in on the details there.

Do you know where my house is?

-Next to Dorothy's.

-Exactly.

I'll see you.

Goodbye.

Proposition, eh?

-Oh!

-Wake up.

Shh, shh.

-What?

- There's somebody moving about downstairs.

-Why shouldn't there be?

-It's 4 o'clock in the morning.

-Oh, maybe Dorothy's just gotten back.

-Dorothy?

Dorothy?

She's not there.

Dorothy?

There might still be somebody in the house.

-We'll soon find out.

-Oh good.

They've gone.

-Mm.

No, they haven't.

Look.

-What?

-Is that someone down there?

-I can't see anything.

-Look!

Wow, someone's forced this door.

-Come on.

-Hello?

Don't come in.

-What do you mean, don't come in?

Oh my god!

-I told you not to come in.

Is it Dorothy's husband, Casper?

-I don't know, I never met him.

Oh, no, no, no.

You don't understand, Agathe.

-Tell her we just came in and found the--

-Yes, right.

Uh, *** ***

-You don't seem to be getting through.

-Well, i-- they understood me all right in paris.

She's probably got some kind of a dialect.

-If she'd just let me go and get my--

My phrase book.

-I don't think a phrase book is going

To cover this situation.

-Madam souret says that monsieur huber arrived back

Unexpectedly at 11:30, and when she went to bed at 12:00

He was working in his study.

-We never met him.

We were in bed by half past 10:00.

It looks as though he tripped, fell across the glass coffee

Table and hit his head.

-Can you tell me the whereabouts of madame huber?

-No.

-She had a phone call before dinner and had to go out.

-Perhaps this matter it is not so straightforward.

There is a piece missing from the cabinet.

Um, when we came downstairs, we heard a car leaving.

-A car?

You have not mentioned this before.

-And I'm sure I saw someone in the garden.

A car and someone in the garden.

We are only here on the invitation of my old friend--

Madam huber--

Just to find out how much it would cost to prepare the

Gardens for a public opening.

-Do you have an interest in antiques, *** ?

-None at all.

-We will have to search your baggage.

-You certainly will not.

-I am sorry to have to tell you, madam huber.

Your husband is dead.

-What are you doing?

-I'm looking for raspberry "martyrs." When I was in

School, we took this day trip to boulogne once.

They were the most fantastic little cakes in a shop, but I

Could only afford three.

-Will you come on?

Please.

-I think they're called "martyrs" because the

Raspberry juice makes them look all bloody.

-Well he's supposed to be here on an errand of mercy.

-Why does she want a lawyer there for, anyway?

-Well, it's very frightening being taken in by the police.

-Well, it looks suspicious to me.

They only want to take a statement.

-Suspicious?

This has got nothing do with Dorothy.

Right.

Alexander chrystal.

I hope he speaks english.

-Or maybe it's because once you've eaten one, you become a

Martyr to them.

-Try again.

-You'd think somebody'd be there, wouldn't you?

-Well, maybe we should try again in a minute.

Or maybe look for another lawyer.

-Excuse me.

I'm sorry.

You're not waiting for me, are you?

-Mr. Chrystal?

-You've got a nice face.

You can call me Sandy.

-Dorothy huber sent us.

-I heard.

Isn't it awful?

Come on.

-It's all over the town about Casper.

Do sit down.

-No, we haven't the time.

Dorothy's at the police station.

She wants you there while she makes a statement.

-Me?

-Well you are her lawyer, aren't you?

-Well yes.

But I'm not a criminal lawyer.

I just advise foreigners about french property laws,

inheritance, that sort of stuff.

-Do they sell raspberry "martyrs" anywhere in

Town, do you know?

"Martyrs," "framboise," I suppose--

Little pastries?

-Sorry, never heard of them.

-I think Dorothy needs a bit of moral support, here.

-Oh, god.

Honey!

Excuse me.

-I'm back.

-And not before time.

Where were you last night?

I phoned the hotel.

I was there all evening.

-Oh, that place.

Anyway, let me introduce you.

This is Rosemary Boxer and Laura Thyme.

And this is my lovely wife, Fiona.

Fiona Taylor?

Famous actress?

Not famous, darling.

Not even well known.

No, more, god, I'm sure I've seen her somewhere before.

-Well i--

I don't know what help Mr. Chrystal's

Going to be to Dorothy?

-I don't know.

Boost her morale, maybe?

-I don't know, maybe.

-Attractive wife.

-Yeah, very.

I had him down as a confirmed bachelor, too.

Well, are we going to go and see Mr. Pretty about his--

Proposition?

-Oh, I don't know.

What do you think?

-We might as well.

Don't feel much like work with all this going on.

-Terrible accident.

Terrible.

-Uh-- well I'm afraid the police think there's rather

More to it than that.

-What?

-Yes.

As

-They think somebody--

You see?

This place never used to be like that--

Murder, robbery, car crashes.

What was it you wanted to see us about?

-What?

Oh, yes, yes, right.

Now, I won't beat about the bush.

That's not my style.

This garden needs work.

-But it looks amazing.

-No, no, no, no, no no.

No, no.

Needed a lot of work.

I mean, these strelitzias--

They're taking all the water look, look,

Ruining the box hedge.

This cordyline needs replacing.

The pond--

That needs replanting.

I think I might quite like another water feature--

Possibly a pergola leading from the house--

Statuary, even.

Yes, lots of work.

-And uh, you'd want us to design it, too?

-Of course, of course--

Design, execute, the whole thing.

Money--

No object.

I'm not one to skimp things.

-Right, great.

Um, just as soon as we finish next door--

-Ah, well, that's the thing, you see.

I need it doing right away.

-Oh, no.

That's not possible, I'm afraid. -No, we're committed to Dorothy.

-Oh, come on.

Do you have a contract?

-No.

-Well.

There you are, then.

-But--

That's not the point.

-Look.

When I said that money was no object, that wasn't just idle Talk.

-I'm sorry, Mr. Pretty.

I just cannot let down an old friend.

Sorry.

-Let her down?

Let her down?

She's letting us all down, encouraging yobs and layabouts

to charge around the neighborhood!

-According to the original plan, these beds were full of

I can't get over the nerve of the man, trying to use us

to stop Dorothy getting the gardens opened.

-Now look, Laura.

There's one or two left, and they're pretty scrubby.

Needs a lot more sand, at least 50-50.

Oh, it's going to be so beautiful.

It's a positive riot beneath all the scrub and weeds.

Right.

Now, let's work out how many we need.

-This is awful.

Where's Dorothy?

-She's still in town with the police.

She had to go in to make a statement.

-It was just an accident, wasn't it?

-Well, they're not entirely sure.

-But that's preposterous.

No that I can pretend to be sorry.

"De mortuis," et cetera, but uh--

wasn't a good marriage.

Two only children never cohabit easily.

-We've just got back.

Dorothy's very upset.

-I had a phone call last night.

Well, you were there.

Anonymous.

Anyway, he said uh--

He s-- said that Casper wasn't in switzerland were he was

supposed to be.

He was in italy with his mistress.

-It wasn't the first call Dorothy had had from the man.

-No, but it was the first time he'd given me specific information.

-Did he tell you the name of the woman?

-Well th--

Well that doesn't matter.

No, the--

the point is, I completely lost it.

I mean, relations between me and Casper haven't been all

that wonderful for years.

But--

anyway, I--

I thought I'd confront him.

Oh, no, I--

I don't know what I thought.

-So what did you do?

-Well the man ever so thoughtfully gave me the name

of a small hotel in Genoa.

So that's where I went.

Except that the hotel didn't exist.

-So you didn't, um--

-Well, I thought he might have given me the wrong address.

So i--

I drove around like a maniac for hours.

I thought I might see Casper's car parked somewhere.

Anyway, eventually I gave up.

-This phone call could have been just to get

you out of the house.

We'll never know now, will we--

with Casper gone?

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I--

I--

I just can't get used to the idea.

-Bye, Quentin.

-So, where did you spend the night?

-I started to drive back, but I was in such a state.

I was exhausted, somehow.

I had been furiously angry, but--

anyway, I booked into a hotel.

I've got the receipt and everything.

-Well that puts you in the clear then, doesn't it?

-No.

No, they've worked out that I could've driven there and back

in time for the--

Yes.

What do you want?

-I want to talk to you.

-I don't think there's anything to say, do you?

-Oh, I think there is.

I think we might come to some understanding.

Come over to the house for five minutes.

-All right.

-Now, this is called the camellia garden.

-I'd never have guessed.

-Oh, look.

There's a little house up there.

Probably their idea of a garden shed.

There's some things inside.

-Things?

Window's a bit dirty.

Looks like furniture.

-It looks like someone's living there.

-What do you think you're doing?

Hello, Nick.

It's Nick, isn't it?

-What are you doing?

-Well, we-- we-- we-- we're, uh--

-Listen.

This is where I live.

-Oh, it's lovely.

-I pay rent for it.

-Yes, that's fine.

-And I don't want any old tarts poking about in it,

thank you very much.

-Well, we're not actually--

I mean--

-No, no, no--

-So just clear off out of it.

-Fine.

We're going. - Come along.

-Go on.

-Ok.

-Bye.

-He's no relation of Dorothy's.

-She says he is.

That's 9.65.

-To the magnolia delavayi?

-That's right, you old tart.

-Not so much of the old.

Mind you, at his age, anyone over 30 looks old.

I remember when I was only 33, Matthew accused me of holding back

the march of a new, progressive society because I

asked him to clear up his room.

-Can we get the distance from that laurel

Just to cross check.

And there should be some salvia here, somewhere.

-What do they look like?

-Uh, sage.

Purple flowers.

No wait a minute.

No, it's one I don't know-- cinnabarina.

Well they're either purple or red.

-All right, I don't see any.

Uh, oh no.

What's that?

-No, it's unlikely to be salvia underneath the laurel.

-Oh, no, no.

It's litter.

Ooh, just a minute.

There's something in it.

-What?

-It is.

It is--

It's-- it's the silver whatsit thing.

Look.

It's a beauty.

Whoever stole it must have dropped it as they made their getaway.

-Dropped it there?

No.

Stashed it, more likely, so they could pick it up later.

-We should put it back.

The police will want to see it "in situ," won't they?

-Mm.

All right.

-Come in.

-Dorothy.

Great news.

-We think whoever stole it must've hidden it there to

collect later.

-It's not there.

-It must be there.

-Are you sure this is right place?

-Yes.

-This all looks very similar.

-No, no.

This is the right place, isn't it?

Right there, underneath the laurel.

-Very odd.

-They must've come to retrieve it in the-- what, five minutes

That we were up at the house?

-He doesn't have an interest antique silver, I suppose?

-James Pretty doesn't have an interest in anything except James Pretty.

He's a horrible little man.

-Oh, merci.

They don't really suspect you, do they?

I mean, they didn't arrest you, did they?

-I don't know anything anymore.

-I wonder if, um, Agathe knows about the, um, "Martyrs Framboises."

-What?

-The raspberry "martyrs," the little cakes.

I mean, she'd know the shops around here.

-Well why don't you ask her?

-Your french is better than mine.

-Laura.

There are more important things at

stake here than cakes.

-I was trying to raise the mood a little.

-We should've told the policemen we found the silver thing.

-But we'd look such idiots.

I mean, we found it, then we lost it again?

-I don't know.

I don't know what good it would do to tell them.

-Excuse me just a moment.

-Looks like more trouble.

-Sandy's wife, Fiona!

-You didn't want Casper, and you couldn't bear anyone else

to have him, could you?

-How dare you show your face here?

You little tart!

-Bloody hell.

-I'm sorry, Quentin, to impose on you like this.

But I can't stay in that house, I can't.

-You're more than welcome here, my love.

-No, Quentin, there's just too many memories there.

And mad women coming to the door.

-The spare room is always at your disposal.

-They certainly lead interesting lives out here, don't they?

-There she is now.

-Who?

-Fiona, with Sandy.

Seems to be going off somewhere.

-And is taking a lot of luggage.

-Mm.

Ah, monsieur.

-Pardon?

-Uh, no, no.

Merci.

Ah, he's seen us.

-Don't mention about Fiona coming to the

House, for god's sake.

-I'm not an idiot.

Hello, Sandy.

Do you want to join us?

Hello.

-Hi.

Fiona off filming again?

-No.

No, she's gone.

-Gone?

-We split up.

I--

I am sorry.

-It's been coming for a while, I suppose.

She's going to Paris.

-Well, that's lovely.

Well, I mean--

-Do you mind if we talk about something else?

-Um, uh-- we found the silver centerpiece.

-Yes.

-You found it?

-Ha.

-And then it disappeared again.

-I'm sure it was it.

It had these two classical ladies on either side.

And about this big.

-And it had all these curly things all around the edge.

It looked like it was meant to support something.

-You should ask Quentin Glazer, not me.

He's the expert.

-Is he?

-Oh, yes.

He's got quite a collection himself.

-Well the thing is we didn't tell the police because it

disappeared, and I--

Well, what do you think we should do?

-Oh, ducky.

I don't know.

-It's nice to get an-- an informed, legal opinion.

-You think he knows about Fiona and Casper?

-I don't know.

-Well, perhaps that's why she's leaving.

-There he is.

-Who?

-Nick.

There, look by the cash machine-- by the bank.

Hang on.

I've got an idea.

-Oh, hello, Nick.

How nice to see you again.

I was only saying to Dorothy earlier, um, I hope we have

a chance to meet, a bit of a chat, and perhaps have a look

at some of your paintings.

Ah, well.

I must be off.

Uh, hope to meet again soon.

-I thought if I could just get a glimpse of his bank card it

would have his surname on it.

-And didn't it?

-No, it said huber.

-Dorothy's married name?

-Yes.

-Of course!

I'm so silly.

He must be Casper's nephew.

Laura.

-Now, those are a bit like them, but they're Strawberries.

-Did you hear what I said?

Nick must be Casper's nephew.

-No, he can't be.

Don't you remember?

Quentin said Casper was an only child, too.

-Oh well--

Perhaps he's stolen the card or something.

-No, he hasn't stolen it.

He's blackmailing her.

-What?

-Suppose you wanted to pay someone regular amounts of

money, covertly.

What do you do?

-I don't know.

I have enough problem paying anyone overtly.

-No, this is what you do.

You give them a bank card in your name, so they can take

cash out of machines up to your set limit.

-Oh, that's very clever.

-What's his angle?

What's Dorothy done to be blackmailed?

-I can't imagine.

-Well anyway, there's nothing we can do about it.

-Let's go get on with some work.

-Oh, hi.

-Hello, Quentin.

What are you doing here?

Is Dorothy all right?

-Oh, she's fine, yes, yes, yes.

I was uh--

I was just seeing how you're going on.

-We're doing well.

-Well it's looking very good, I must say.

-Well, we're only taking lists of plants.

-Quite.

Still, um--

Now it's essential we keep the opening day.

Well I'll just, um--

See you.

-Bye.

-One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Right.

Eight cypresses.

-Eight cypresses.

No, there should be 10 according to this plan.

Oh, well.

They must have lost two sometime.

Right.

That's this lot.

Let's get on with the next.

Ooh, what's that?

-What?

-Looks like a bit of iron.

-No, don't touch it!

-Why not?

-Isn't that blood on it?

Well it looks like blood, and I think hair.

-Now you have the murder weapon.

-No, no.

This is not the weapon that killed Mr. Huber.

-What?

-Well, the hair on it is dark.

Casper huber had grey hair.

Also, this blood seems quite fresh.

So the question is, who's blood is it?

-I know what that word means.

-James Pretty.

-Stone cold more.

- I don't understand it,

I just don't understand it.

-Poor James.

-I'm surprised the inspector hasn't been in touch.

Mr. Pretty was your neighbor after all.

-Well they wouldn't tell me anything, would they?

I mean, I'm still their main suspect.

-The two murders can't be connected.

I mean, wh-- what is the connection?

-Well, perhaps there isn't one.

-Well with James, the police don't seem to have much to go on.

-But with Casper's, all they've got to do is wait.

Whenever the culprit tries to sell the silver, they pounce.

-You still think that is the motive?

-Oh, yes, yes.

He knew what he was doing.

He's done a most handsome piece--

Louis de Lacourt, from the 1823 exhibition.

-Oh, of course.

You're a collector, too, aren't you?

-Oh, I've--

I've got one or two little pieces.

Nothing as, um, grand as Casper's.

-Oh, is my computer still in the back?

-Uh, I imagine so.

-I can't wait to get back to the plants.

-Not so fast.

-What?

-Look.

Nick's car.

Under the seat.

It's the bag with the stolen silver.

-It's only a supermarket bag.

-But why would Nick hide it under the seat of his car?

-There must be thousands of them.

Anyway, you said he was blackmailing Dorothy, not

Stealing silv--

-He's packed and ready to go.

-Hurry up, for goodness sake.

-You can't hurry these things.

-He's coming, he's coming.

-Go on.

Run for it!

-Yes.

-Where were you?

I thought he'd got you.

-No.

We got him.

-What?

What's this?

Oh, a birth certificate.

-Nicholas Jeffries.

Nick!

"Mother--

Dorothy."

-Dorothy.

Dorothy Olivia Jeffries.

That's Dorothy's maiden name.

He's ... her son -right.

-"Father-- Unknown."

There he is.

He's making his getaway.

Come on.

-Why?

Why would he be blackmailing Dorothy?

-Maybe Casper didn't know about her youthful

indiscretion and she was frightened he'd find out.

-Well that's a bit old-fashioned, isn't it?

-Well you'd be surprised how old-fashioned

some people can be.

The--

The registration number is eight, five, two,

One, x, h, zero, six.

Thank you, inspector.

Yes, yes.

-Well, I'm picking up the lingo.

Give me some skin.

-Right.

Now get me the distance from the acacia to the

Carob by the fence--

the one with the camellia climbing up it.

-That's 5.35.

Right?

5.35.

What is it?

-We've got the wrong man.

-Wha--

What-- what do you mean?

-Casper and James Pretty did have one thing in common.

-What?

-Neither of them wanted to open these

gardens to the public.

-Well that's true.

-And who wanted to open the gardens to the public?

Quentin.

I realized when I looked at the fence.

I think the weapon that killed James Pretty was a bit of

fence post from Quentin's garden where he was having it mended.

-And-- and Quentin was here.

We saw him just before they found the body.

-And we've left Dorothy with him.

-Goodness.

-Dorothy?

Where's Dorothy?

-You won't get away, Quentin.

-We know you killed Casper.

And James Pretty.

-I see.

-It was so stupid of you to use your own fence post to Kill James.

-Yes.

Yes, that was stupid.

-You killed Casper because you wanted Dorothy.

-Yes.

She's everything I've always wanted.

I love her.

I'm not ashamed of what I've done.

I'll take my punishment.

-You've been reading too many of your own books, Quentin.

-Dorothy.

-Oh, come on.

It'd be silly to end your life with a melodramatic gesture--

sacrificing yourself for the woman you love.

How victorian of you.

No, Quentin didn't kill Casper.

I did.

-Nick will know.

That police will have picked him up by now.

He'll tell them everything.

-Oh, yes.

Nick will never keep quiet.

Why should he?

Now when he found me, tracked me down, he understood the

situation immediately.

But I hadn't told Casper about him.

He bled me white.

I stole the stupid centerpiece to pay him off, once and for all.

Casper came back early and caught me.

He fell.

I--

I--

I--

I--

Pushed him.

It was just an accident.

-And James Pretty?

You can't claim that wasn't premeditated.

You had to take a piece of fence post with you.

-Yes.

James Pretty saw me come back that night.

But later when he asked to talk to me, I thought he'd seen sense

about opening the gardens,

but quite the opposite.

What he said was he'd keep quiet about seeing me that

Night if I gave up the whole idea.

I can't say it was an accident, killing him.

Nasty little man.

-Oh, to hell with that.

You two, back off.

Get into the car.

We can get to my boat in 10 minutes.

Stay where you are!

-So Nick did tell the police everything.

-Oh, Dorothy, I'm so sorry.

-Where have you been?

-I found them.

-Found what?

-The "framboise martyrs." In the little shop down the road.

Only it's nothing to do with martyrs.

It's "framboise marthes," like in "martha," only in french.

Suppose she invented them.

Do you want to try one?

-No, thanks.

It's

-Oh, go on.

They're wonderful.

I bought six.

-Mm, all right.

You need a spoon for this.

-That's half the fun.

I had two in the shop.

What do you think?

Good, eh?

It's all right.

-Wha--?

-Oh, there's Agathe.

Here, hold this.

Bonjour, Agathe.

-Bonjour.

-We just wanted to say, goodbye and thank you.

-Now, this is all the ***

That ***

Have done so far.

What's "so far" in french?

-Ooh, don't ask me.

Oh, well anyway.

Perhaps--

Um, someone--

Will ***

All the ***

That ***

Have ***

So far.

Right?

Thank you.

-Au revoir.

-That went down quite well, don't you think?

-Yeah, it's amazing how quickly you can learn a

language if you have to speak it every day.

-It's the only way to learn, that's what I always say.

Have you got my martha?

-I--

I ate it.

-I only had one bite.

-Yeah, but I thought you didn't like them.

-Oh, they grow on you.

-Oh, well go on.

I suppose you can have another one.

I think we should get some more for the journey.

Better hurry.

There weren't many in the shop.

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