Original subtitles

[ Birds singing, rooster crowing ]

♪♪

Oh, Reverend Mother!

Sister Peter said you wished to, um --

Reverend...

- Mother!? - Close your mouth, dear.

You look like a goldfish.

It's your father...

Is he ill?

- Worse! He's driving me up the wall!

He's convinced he's discovered secret messages

hidden in the back pages of his chess journals.

Secret messages?

- He's been obsessing about them for weeks.

Neglecting his university work.

Even tried to alert MI-5!

I'm worried he's losing his marbles.

You must do something.

Yes.

I shall pray for him.

Something useful!

Spend time with him.

Get him to stop this ridiculous behaviour!

He's never been the same since you took the veil.

- Well, maybe if he'd talk to me about it, he'd understand --

- Oh, why a once-in-a-generation intellect

chose to lock herself up in a convent!?

You two used to be so close.

- Very well. I'll come to Oxford --

Oh, no need. He's here.

I left him in the car with a book on astrophysics

and a thermos of Bovril.

He's fine. I wound the window down.

♪♪

- This came from a tournament in London last month...

Then this turned up two weeks later from a game in Moscow...

Ta-da!

But what do they mean?

Isn't it obvious!?

They mean somebody at The British Open

Chess Championship is a Russian spy!

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

P.T.R.V.D.E.F.

Petrov's Defence!

No doubt a codename for some Russian plot.

B.O.C.C.

The British Open Chess Championship.

It's on this weekend.

- Right, so... so you think that...?

"Meet post final."

The spies plan to meet straight after the tournament.

- Well, you've, um, you've certainly invested a lot of time

- into this, Father -- - It makes perfect sense!

Moves are submitted by players then wired to various journals.

How better to get messages in-and-out of Russia

without the authorities catching on?

Point taken.

However, the, um, well, the monkey concept,

enough monkeys at enough typewriters,

suggests that these messages could simply be down to chance.

Must be thousands of matches each year --

- Well, that's what I've been saying!

"Put-fut-wut" could mean anything.

Or, more likely, nothing at all!

Like that, is it?

My wife, my daughter, my own flesh-and-blood,

treating me like a raving lunatic!

- Conversely, Claude Shannon estimated

the game-tree complexity of chess

at approximately 10 to the power of 120.

So, even factoring in errors...

well, it's certainly worth looking into.

So you'll talk to the police?

♪♪

Yes.

Yes. Absolutely.

[ Laughs ]

♪♪

What am I looking at?

Well, it's a chessboard.

Sorry.

So each square represents a letter or number.

Hypothetically, moves spell out words,

using the board as a cypher.

"Hypothetically"?

- Well, Father was always eccentric.

I suspect he's tilting at windmills.

But I promised to investigate so investigate I shall.

I volunteer to help.

- You think there's a Russian spy in Great Slaughter?

- No, but I was planning to attend the tournament anyway.

It's a fascinating game, chess.

You know, I was captain of my school team.

- Were you really? Marvellous! - Of course you were.

Well, in that case, be my guest!

Take Peggy with you.

And let me know if you uncover any espionage.

Try not to ruffle any feathers!

♪♪

- You know we should play a game. - Yes!

- Shouldn't we! - Yes!

Are you alright, Father?

Marvellous!

♪♪

♪♪

Crikey!

Might have to get myself one of these contraptions!

Vivienne's no idea what she's missing.

- Oh, I expect Mother will be happier on the train.

That's Oliver Canning!

Let's introduce ourselves!

Oh, um.

Pleasure to meet you, Mr...

Call me Malise. Big fan.

Studied your games from Paris.

Exemplary use of the Sicilian Dragon!

- If I could extricate my father.

I need to register for the qualification rounds.

- You're playing in the tournament?

I've always admired a woman with brains.

- Oh. You'd be amazed how many of us have them.

I should check in.

Just got back from an all-play-all in Leningrad.

Could use some shut-eye before the opening rounds.

Did you hear?

Leningrad!

- Oh, look, police reinforcements!

- There's nothing to worry about.

You're the best in the country.

And I intend to remain so.

I can't have any distractions this weekend, understand?

Of course, Anthony.

♪♪

So, what do you do, Mr...

- Boniface? - Bonham-Crane.

I'm the Emeritus Professor of Mathematical Physics

at Oxford University.

I'm sure she won't be long.

♪♪

- Even the qualifying stages are incredibly competitive.

Considering the entry fee, wouldn't you be better

finding a nice, local club to play in?

- Thank you, but I think it'll be awfully good fun!

♪♪

Checkmate. Sorry.

I'm so sorry. Checkmate.

Terribly sorry. Checkmate.

♪♪

Must've had help from above. Perk of the job.

Poppycock! Pure brains.

This young lady was three-time Chess Champion

at Cambridge University!

- Sorry, couldn't help overhearing.

Fellow alumnus.

Congratulations on making the main draw.

Oh. Well, thank you.

Is that Evelyn Thurleigh?

Rising star of the chess scene.

Let me introduce you!

I'm Jack, by the way.

Evelyn! Meet --

Oh, Sister Boniface,

and my father, Professor Bonham-Crane.

- Read your interview in Chess Magazine.

Some year you're having!

- Clawing my way up the rankings.

He's too modest.

In a couple of days, he'll be British Champion.

Stop it, Jack!

- And are you playing, too? - No!

I'm merely Evelyn's private secretary.

I arrange travel, hotels,

generally keep him out of mischief.

- And the small matter of being my trainer.

Jack convinced me I was good enough.

Claimed he could make me a champion in a year.

- And here we are. - I haven't won it yet!

You will.

Excuse me a moment. Need to double-check the schedule.

Udachi!

Sorry?

Um, he said "Good luck."

In Russian.

Oh.

Thank you.

Oh, there's Mother.

Lovely to meet you!

- It worked in 'The Great Escape'!

♪♪

Table number seven.

Oh.

♪♪

- I'll find some seats. - Right.

♪♪

There's strong competition here.

Anthony Whitlock. British Champion.

Let's hope he's not your first- round opponent or we're toast.

Whitlock's wife, Nadiya.

Highest ranked female player.

Russian ex-pat and my prime suspect.

Who's more likely to be passing information

to the USSR than one of their own!

Shame about Leningrad.

Humiliating not to win a single game.

- I'd be more concerned about my own "performance"

if I were you, Anthony.

Boys!

No doubt you'll meet in the later rounds.

Then you can compare the size of your...

intellects.

♪♪

- Mr. Whitlock, we're about to begin.

- Please take your seat -- - Stop pestering me,

you imbecile!

I should join your mother.

Good luck.

Don't lose!

- Ladies, Gentlemen, welcome to Montgomery Hall

for the first round of the British Open

Chess Championship.

I now declare the main tournament officially open!

[ Bell rings ]

Whites, make your first move.

♪♪

♪♪

- She's ceded the centre to her opponent.

Is, is that...bad?

Disastrous!

♪♪

That's it! She's done for!

Wait. I think she has a plan.

A plan to embarrass herself!

Don't make a scene, darling.

♪♪

Checkmate!

You were saying, dear?

- Take it from me, never get on the wrong side of a bishop!

♪♪

- I taught her everything she knows!

♪♪

Well done, Sister!

- Cheers! - Oh.

Cheers. You were amazing!

Oh, thank you, Peggy.

Do you play?

Of course! Love chess!

Really? You never said.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

All the, the moves...

An' the rules...

An' how the black player an' the white player

get to pinch each other's pieces!

No, no, I meant that --

Don't slouch, dear!

Oh. Sorry, Mother.

- Lucky-lucky-lucky!

Stronger opponent would've eaten you alive!

Need to sharpen up!

- Mmm, yes, maybe you could help?

Play some games. Give me advice.

Just like when I was little...

- Don't sabotage the dynamic potential of your knights

by restricting them to the periphery!

♪♪

Such fun!

- Well, anything to catch this spy!

After dinner, then.

- Nowt I do's good enough for my folks, either.

- Yes. Well, admittedly they were...

discombobulated by my calling.

Committed atheists, yes.

Assumed I'd be a famous scientist like my father.

Or successful musician like my mother and sister.

Still, I'll win them over eventually!

♪♪

- Nadiya Whitlock seems like the prime suspect,

but there's also her husband, naturally.

And Oliver Canning's just back from Russia.

Evelyn Thurleigh's a fascinating character.

Nobody'd heard of him a year ago,

and he's since beaten three of the top ten!

- Oh, if only you'd shown such ambition.

You do know your sister is now First Chair?

- I'm sure Persephone must be thrilled.

- She's always made good life decisions.

You could have been running MI5 by now.

Instead you're busy making homemade wine and singing hymns!

- There's a little bit more to the job than that, Mother.

- Oh, Malise, back me up, please!

- As a scientist, I was surprised

you opted to bat for the other team.

Theologically speaking.

Exactly.

And after all we taught you to disbelieve in!

Help! Anthony!

Open the door.

Can somebody help me?

Anthony!

It'll be alright.

What's happened?

Anthony's not answering.

I heard Nadiya calling.

Open the door!

Can we help?

- Competitors are trying to sleep!

Something's wrong, I know it!

Step back.

♪♪

- The Federation won't be held responsible for damages!

♪♪

[ Screams ]

[ Chess clock ticking ]

♪♪

- Can't leave you for five minutes, can I?

- So, the main door was locked from the inside.

The key was still in the lock.

Adjoining door into his wife's suite

was also locked from within.

Mr. Whitlock must have suffered a heart attack,

or an aneurysm maybe.

AKA natural causes.

Which is exactly what the murderer wants us to think.

- Excuse me? - Well,

I saw the key in the main door when I first entered.

But I didn't notice the key in the adjoining door

into Mrs. Whitlock's room

until after we'd inspected the body.

- So you're saying the killer could've escaped

through the adjoining door, locking it behind them

and then replace the key later,

during the chaos of finding the body?

Exactly!

Giving the impression the victim died alone.

Fact.

Signs of bruising on the victim's lower face.

A hand clamped over his mouth, perhaps.

And, er, see this pinprick wound and reddening on the neck?

Indicates the victim was forcibly injected.

With what?

Oh, excellent question.

No idea.

No!

That must be a coincidence.

Or is it!?

See the way these two knights mirror each other's positions?

This opening's known as Petrov's Defence.

Like in the message.

Thought -- Isn't faking natural causes

the sort of trick professional spies go for?

Hang on!

We treat this like any other suspicious death.

Yes. Quite right!

Sir!

Look!

Hmm...

Looks like maths equations.

It's chess annotations.

Probably from the victim's last few matches.

But why hide it in a teasmaid?

- No doubt paranoid about someone stealing it

to study his tactics.

May I borrow that?

Someone I'd love to take a look!

- This murder must be connected to the secret messages!

- Stop shuffling, Malise. You're giving me a headache.

At last!

Think Whitlock found out about the Russian spy?

Got himself bumped off?

It's possible.

Here, take a look at this.

It belonged to the victim.

Fascinating...

Sweetheart...

What are you doing!?

You asked me to help.

- To dispel his delusions, not indulge him!

You're beginning to believe him!

- Well, he might be onto something.

If he's discovered secret Russian messages,

this murder may be connected.

So if I can identify the murderer,

we might also find his spy!

I give up!

You always were peas in a pod!

Barmy, the pair of you!

♪♪

- I told you everything last night.

Just a few more questions.

So you and your husband always have separate bedrooms?

- Anthony was preparing for his match

with Evelyn Thurleigh tomorrow.

We loved each other very much, Inspector,

but during a tournament

Anthony never let anything disturb his concentration.

Even me.

- So Anthony was in his room and you...

You were in the bath?

- When I got out, I went to say goodnight,

and Anthony's door was locked.

He didn't reply.

He never goes to sleep until 11:00.

So I raised the alarm.

- Is there anyone who'd wish your husband harm?

Except...

The tournament director.

♪♪

Quentin Waterford?

He has a drink problem.

At the last tournament, he fell asleep

while he was supposed to be officiating.

Anthony lodged a complaint.

If it's upheld, Mr. Waterford could lose his job.

What about Mr. Canning?

They were great rivals.

No!

No, Oliver and Anthony loved antagonising each other,

but underneath there was great respect.

♪♪

- Will you catch whoever did this, Inspector?

We'll do everything we can.

- We're sorry again for your loss.

♪♪

- Just me, or doth the lady protest too much?

♪♪

Ah, how d'you get on?

- Oh, yes, I'm through to the next round!

Oh!

No...

Oh, you mean in the lab?

Well, the toxin doesn't match any common poisons.

Chemical composition's quite unusual.

Can you identify it?

- Oh, absolutely. Just might take a while, that's all.

- Anything to help us narrow down the list of suspects?

- Well, if I'm correct, and the murderer

left through the adjoining door, then later replaced the key,

that means they must have been present

when the body was discovered.

Of course! In that case,

we have Nadiya Whitlock. The "grieving widow."

- She'll also inherit the victim's wealth.

- Oliver Canning, he's Anthony's long-term rival.

And shameless flirt!

- Evelyn Thurleigh. With Whitlock gone,

he gets a clear route to the finals.

- And his friend, Jack Denbury...

- Whose livelihood depends on Evelyn's continued success.

And don't forget Quentin Waterford.

- Yes. Allegedly a secret alcoholic

being investigated by the British Chess Federation,

thanks to our victim.

That's everyone.

- Perhaps we should pass these on to MI-5?

- You said your father was tilting at windmills!?

- Wouldn't harm to hedge our bets.

- Alright, I'll get Special Branch to send over a list.

- Wait. How could the murderer leave

via Mrs Whitlock's room?

She was in there the whole time!

She was in the bathroom.

- Still a big risk to leave via an occupied suite.

You know, perhaps we should talk to her again?

- It's funny you should say that...

Still have friends in Russia?

Not anymore.

Why do you ask?

No reason.

If you'd had a bath, why were you still wearing full make-up?

- I like to look at my best when I wish my husband goodnight.

- Yet you weren't wearing your wedding ring?

- So it wouldn't tarnish in the bath.

- That must be 18-carats.

No more likely to tarnish

than a murderer's likely to escape

via an occupied hotel room.

That's why the police suspect you're the killer.

♪♪

And you?

♪♪

Do you think I killed my husband?

♪♪

No.

But I am curious as to where you really were last night.

♪♪

That's checkmate, by the way.

♪♪

With Oliver Canning!?

- No wonder she played down the rivalry between the two men.

Didn't want to draw suspicion to her lover!

We'll speak to him.

- Even if Canning does give Nadiya an alibi,

it doesn't mean much. The affair means they both had motive.

- Oh, by the way, Special Branch spoke to their contacts at MI-5.

None of our suspects have ever been on their radar.

As suspected, your father is clutching at straws.

♪♪

It's the professor!

Thank you so much, Doctor.

Father? Are you alright?

- No! Been poisoned by the Russians!

- Now stop attention-seeking, Malise.

It's nothing, he had a funny turn...

The doctor says he's been over-exerting himself.

Not enough sleep.

We need to talk.

You need to rest.

He has been looking at that notebook all night!

You said that you will help!

- I suppose Father's enthusiasm always has been contagious.

I'll speak to him.

Now, about this whole spy thing...

You did it!

You found proof!

Proof?

I'm not going mad, after all!

Oh.

[ Laughs ]

♪♪

- So we met up a few times, en passant.

Couldn't resist breaking through Nadiya's icy shell.

It was nothing serious.

Perhaps she felt differently?

Got rid of her husband so she could be with you?

Never!

Nadiya and Anthony were a meeting of minds.

All the other physical stuff,

he was happy to let her roam free.

- Mrs. Whitlock mentioned a dispute

between her husband and Quentin Waterford?

- Waterford!? Now he's a man who likes to drink

but, well, frankly, it could've been anyone.

Anthony was always far better at making enemies than friends.

Take poor Evelyn, for example.

What about him?

Anthony got it into his head

that Evelyn and Jack are more than just chums...

[ Indistinct conversations ]

- Seems we're doing battle tomorrow morning.

I'm looking forward to it.

[ Chuckles ]

Something funny?

- I know your dirty, little secret.

- Sorry, I, I don't quite --

- I've seen those looks between you.

I'll prove it.

When I do, you'll be blacklisted

from every tournament in the country!

♪♪

Hey!

- So he was planning to report them to the authorities?

Anthony was a terrible loser.

His form's been patchy.

He'd've considered losing to Evelyn

an unbearable humiliation.

- If Whitlock found proof Evelyn and Jack were in a relationship,

it would've ended Evelyn's career.

♪♪

- He got a foolish idea in his head.

And he couldn't prove it because it's not true.

- So you and Mr. Denbury aren't lov...

lovers?

This about Anthony Whitlock!?

Nothing but vicious rumours from a sad little man

who was scared to face Evelyn in the next round.

Evelyn was with me all evening.

Working on his tactics.

- We have to follow up every lead.

- Something I need to show you! - Not now, Sister.

We're in the middle of something --

- Trust me. You'll want to see this.

♪♪

Excuse us.

♪♪

- This notebook is an encoded diary,

using the same cypher

as messages hidden in recent chess journals.

Never seen this before.

Then I'll elaborate.

The section that my father's translated

describes a chemical formula,

along with dosages, results, and side effects.

For example...

"Lisowski Cup, San Francisco, 27th July.

Two-point-five micrograms.

Improvements in strategic planning and improvisation.

Side effects, mild nausea."

- No wonder your husband was keeping this diary hidden.

It proves that he was using a drug to aid mental performance!

- The formula matches the substance

I isolated from your husband's blood.

Although he was injected with an extremely high dose.

A fatal dose, in fact.

This is a fantasy.

- With access to mind-enhancing drugs,

the Russians could seize the initiative in science,

military technology, space exploration...

This could swing the Cold War in their favour!

- But first you had to kill your husband to cover your tracks.

- Tell us, where did he get the formula from?

That's enough!

My husband had no need for such drugs.

He was already a genius.

And we weren't at the Lisowski Cup.

♪♪

Not his writing.

Nor mine.

Happy to provide samples for comparison.

Whoever wrote this book, it wasn't my husband.

- Well, she's right, they weren't in San Francisco.

Foolish of me, I should have checked before!

- Don't apologise. Secret messages?

Encoded diary? Now we have mind-enhancing drugs!?

I never knew chess could be so exciting!

- How do we work out which of our suspects is the spy?

- Right, cross-check the handwriting

against everyone present when the body was discovered.

- I'll arrange for samples to be collected.

- There you are! You're late!

Late?

- The semi-final.

If you're not at your table in two minutes,

I'll have no option but to disqualify you!

Go. We've got this covered.

♪♪

Your father not here today?

♪♪

He's ill.

That's dreadful!

Wish him my best.

Nice chap.

You two seem close.

We used to be.

- Remember, the Queen is the most powerful of all.

She can be a formidable shield or potent weapon.

She can travel in any direction she chooses

and go as far as she wishes.

With sufficient care, she can achieve great things.

- He believes my vocation to be a waste of my intellect.

Seems to regard it as a personal betrayal.

My advice?

♪♪

Tell him how you feel. Before it's too late.

♪♪

[ Knock on door ]

♪♪

I'm in the final!

It was touch-and-go, but I turned it around.

Bought this knickerbocker glory from the restaurant

to celebrate. Thought we could share?

[ Snoring ]

♪♪

Well, no point wasting it.

♪♪

Mmm.

I've missed this, you know.

You and me.

Playing chess.

Long chats about everything and nothing.

♪♪

You think I chose God over science,

but it is possible to combine both.

Just ask Sister Mary Celine Fasenmyer.

I think you'll find her dissertation

on hypergeometric polynomials rather entertaining.

My point is...

wimple or no wimple,

I'm still your little girl.

Mmm, yummy!

♪♪

Short curlicue and three continuous strokes on the B...

Pressure, speed, and pen-lift consistent

with the written line...

Well, it matches the encoded diary.

Evelyn Thurleigh.

Chemistry degree from Cambridge University,

where he studied under the country's leading expert

in cognitive enhancement.

- I spoke to the department, and they were working on a new drug

to alleviate geriatric memory loss.

- It seems like Thurleigh stumbled across a formula

with wide-spreading cognitive benefits

and is now trying to sell it to the Russians.

- Well, if he's taking the drug himself,

that would explain his rapid rise in the chess world.

Jack Denbury must be lying to protect him.

Well, it makes sense.

Without Thurleigh, Denbury's out of a job.

- Thurleigh is planning to meet a Russian spy

after the tournament.

It is our duty to arrest them both.

Unfortunately, the message in the chess journal

doesn't say where the meeting's taking place.

So what's the plan?

- You're due to play Thurleigh in the final later today.

Keep him there long enough for us to search his room,

procure enough evidence

and hopefully find out the location of the meeting.

Don't lose too quickly. Roger.

No pressure there then!

- Your two finalists, Evelyn Thurleigh

and Sister Boniface!

Mr. Thurleigh, you may begin.

♪♪

♪♪

- I heard you like to throw your opponents off-guard.

- Centre-ground's overrated.

I prefer to forge my own path.

♪♪

- Search the wardrobe. - Yes, sir.

♪♪

♪♪

[ Clears throat ]

- Sorry. [ Clears throat ]

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Sir? Sir.

♪♪

- [ Sighs ] Where are the drugs?

♪♪

♪♪

Insulin injection.

Sorry, I should've changed my shirt.

No need to apologise.

Must be horrid.

It's not that bad.

I make poor Jack do the injections for me.

I'm a terrible coward when it comes to that sort of thing.

Bet he does all sorts for you.

Like filling out those boring registration forms?

♪♪

Why would you say that?

You lied, didn't you?

You and Jack weren't together

when Anthony Whitlock was murdered.

Of course we were.

You've been lying for him.

[ Sighs ]

♪♪

What're you doing!?

If you leave, you'll forfeit the match.

Sorry, but I have to.

Wait!

You don't understand.

Whitlock wanted to destroy me...

How should we celebrate if...

♪♪

"Now I have proof. Withdraw from the tournament

or face the consequences."

♪♪

Jack went to confront him.

Things got out-of-hand...

He said it was self-defence.

Jack only went there to protect me.

It was an act of love!

♪♪

Not like that.

Jack's not like me.

We'll only ever be friends.

Jack's been lying to you.

♪♪

And he's about to do something very bad.

Nonsense!

He's probably just gone for a walk.

He loves exploring.

Always poring over his silly maps.

He's a good man.

Maps! Maps!

- There's nothing else here! We'll have to follow Thurleigh

as soon as the match is over.

Alright.

♪♪

Apparently, we're too late.

- While we were busy watching Evelyn,

the real culprit's got away.

But luckily, we know how to catch him!

Pass me that map, will you.

And that chessboard.

♪♪

Care to enlighten us?

Like chess, it's all about

calculating your opponent's next move...

- I thought the messages didn't give a location?

- So did we. But then I remembered

that after the second message came a sequence of numbers.

- Idiot that I am, I dismissed them as random moves,

but my brilliant little girl

realised they're part of the message!

♪♪

Oh. Coordinates!

Ah!

♪♪

- I favour opening with Petrov's Defence, don't you?

[ Police whistle blowing ]

♪♪

- Selling secrets to commies, Jack?

Just out for a walk.

- We thought it was Evelyn that had stolen

his professor's research, but it was you.

- You've been using poor Evelyn as your guinea pig, haven't you?

Mixing the drug with his insulin?

How else could Evelyn have gotten so much better

so quickly, hmm?

- Anthony wasn't going to report you two for being homosexual.

He was going to report you for cheating!

That's why he stole your notebook.

Hey!

- The same notebook he saw you scribbling on

during Evelyn's matches.

You see, he was obsessed with uncovering the secret

behind Evelyn's success.

- He would've known that they weren't real chess moves

and deduced that it was code,

but how much he figured out we'll never know.

- Either way, he believed he now had enough leverage

to force Evelyn to withdraw from the tournament.

Seeing his note, you realised

that your plan was at risk of being exposed.

So you went to confront him...

- [ Knock on door ] - Who is it?

- The manager. Need a word about your bill.

What the devil are you doing!?

Give me my notebook!

Ha!

You're the brains behind the operation?

- I thought so. - Give it to me.

[ Chess clock ticking ]

Why should I?

I'm in the process of deciphering it.

When I've discovered how you're cheating,

I'll have Thurleigh banned from every tournament in the world.

- Alright, what d'you want for it?

What do I want?

For your little friend to withdraw from the tournament.

In fact, I want him to step away from chess altogether!

- If he refuses? - He'll be publicly humiliated

and banned anyway.

He walks, you return the book?

- You'll have to tell me how you did it, too.

Call it an insurance policy.

Or I hand it over to the authorities.

[ Chess clock continues ticking ]

Fine.

But it's easier to show you.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

- But you couldn't find the notebook.

Thankfully.

Now we have all the evidence we need to put you behind bars.

- How much did they offer you, Jack?

[ Chuckling ]

You think this was about getting rich?

Isn't it?

- I spent years walking the corridors of Cambridge,

watching the spoilt offspring of the upper classes

revel in their inherited wealth.

This is about the future!

A war of heart and minds!

With my formula, communists around the world will outthink

and outmanoeuvre their capitalist enemies!

- I'm arresting you on the suspicion

of the murder of Anthony Whitlock.

You are not obliged to say anything,

but anything you wish to say

may be put into writing and given in evidence.

I'll get it out there somehow.

You're on borrowed time, all of you!

- Once MI-5 get involved, they'll make sure

that you and your formula

remain firmly under lock-and-key.

♪♪

- Enjoy this place while you can.

I suspect your next accommodation

won't be quite so luxurious.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Is it true?

You pretended to be my friend to test out some drug?

- For a while, the world thought you were special,

instead of just another pampered toff.

You should thank me.

Thank you.

For finally ridding me

of this foolish infatuation with you.

Enjoy prison.

♪♪

- Sorry I didn't win the tournament.

- I'm the one who should apologise.

You're the finest brain in a generation.

Should've trusted you to find a way

to use your gifts for the greater good.

- Oh, think what you could do with MI-5!

I'm just saying it's never too late to change your mind!

This is for you.

Oh. Erm, er, no.

Er, but I forfeited.

Thurleigh's been disqualified.

We can't allow performance enhancing chemicals,

even if taken unwittingly.

You win by default.

I say, Malise?

Our daughter the chess champion!

- Always said she could be a Grandmaster!

- Well, it seems congratulations are in order, Sister!

Well played, Sister.

- You also win a place at the Royal Invitational

at Oxford next month.

Oh, erm, actually,

I'm retiring from professional chess.

- What? - Why!?

- I prefer a career with a bit more variety.

This is lovely, though.

Just the ticket for keeping my spare corks in.

- If everyone could smile for the camera?

[ Camera shutter clicks ]

♪♪

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