All language subtitles for Sister Boniface Mysteries S03E01 Never Too Deadly To die

Hello? Yes.
Uh, can you get Sam?

They're heading for
the estate on Messervy Hill.

- Silverkiss.
- Silverkiss.

Do be careful, Sam!

Sister!

Woman: Don't... move.

You nearly ruined the shot.

Man: And cut!

That was marvellous,
very convincing!

You.

Ruth!

Were you expecting someone else?

Man: And cut!

It's top secret.

Two skydivers in broad daylight
is hardly inconspicuous.

Well, he's never been
the most undercover of spies.

- We all know that.
- I still don't follow.

I thought that the actor...
um...

- Scott Kincade.
- Yes.

He left the role, didn't he?

He did.

And this is the hunt
for the next Agent Jonas Best.

How exciting!

So you're here to do
a puff-piece on the new star?

And to lend some moral support.
Hello, darling.

Where are my manners?

Kingsley, Kingsley Markham.

We all know who you are,
Mr. Markham.

I'd say you must be
a shoo-in for Agent Best.

TV Star and war hero.

Well, we all did our duty.
I, uh, I wasn't the only hero.

Not by far.

War stories again, Bomber?

Sam: Well, it would have been
nice to get some notice.

Terribly sorry, old chap.

Uh, you're Gillespie, um,
aren't you?

And Livingstone,
I presume.

I play bridge with Lowsley
over at the Wisemans'.

And, uh, that makes you...

Boniface.
Sister Boniface.

Enchanted.

Well, since you've all raced
up here, why not come in

and take the tour?
Come on.

- Ruth: Marvellous!
- No. We probably...

So, this is where I write them.

Four months a year I plant
myself down, hash it all out,

and when it's all done,
it's back to the Bahamas I go.

You're, um...
Bermudian, aren't you?

Felix: Yes. Yes, sir.

Lovely place. Excellent fishing.
Are your family there?

Felix: Yes.
I have a fiancée, but...

Lincoln: But?

But?

I ju-- I just haven't heard
from her in a while.

Whatever you do,
don't touch that.

One solid tap

and you'll blow us all
to strawberry jam.

- Gosh!
- It's a memento mori.

A Nazi general tried to trick me
with this back in Paris.

Luckily I knew his mistress.

Like the hotel chapter
in "Russian Roulette"?

Ah! A reader!
Dear boy, I'm flattered.

Well, it's true I do steal
from my own exploits.

Ah, let me show you this beauty.
Quite...

I don't think he meant me.

Ah, sorry. Let me introduce...

Miss Volante needs
no introduction.

You don't seem the sort
to follow fashion, Mister...?

Gillespie. Detective Inspector.

Fashion, no.
But I've an eye for faces.

Police?
I hope there's no trouble?

Oh, the-- the parachute stunt
ruffled a few feathers, my dear.

You should have seen
the Inspector here

leaping into action.

Must have been quite a sight.

Ruth:
Sorry to interrupt.

Thought you might like
to know Campbell's back.

Excuse me.

Man: What you talking about,
Campbell? You're being paranoid.

Paranoid?!
You sabotaged my gear!

Watch it, Hamlet!
Keep your tights on.

Gentlemen? Gentlemen.

Campbell, you didn't jump.

Equipment found
to be faulty, sir.

Too late to do anything
about it.

Benson, not your mucking about,
was it?

And if it was?

Alright! Was just
looking over the script again.

Couldn't find my copy.

Man: Well, now that we're all
here, we can press on, can't we?

I'm about to do the screen
tests, if you'd like to watch.

We're down to the final three.

I made it part of the deal
when I sold the books, you see.

I get the final say on
who plays Jonas Best.

Actually, I think it might be
time for us to get going.

Oh, Yes. No, we should
probably get along.

So good to see you again, Ruth.

You too, Sister.

Would you have told me
you were back?

Would you have
really wanted warning?

"I'm bringing
my new boyfriend home, Sam."

Bit old for "boyfriend,"
don't you think?

Although, I understand
why you're embarrassed.

Hardly.

This whole escapade
is under embargo,

and my silence was
strictly professional.

Benson: Look...

will you just do us a favour
and talk to him?

- You alright there?
- Mm.

Benson, we're all set.
Oh, and you, Inspector.

We could do with some notes
from a modern man of action.

- Come on.
- Sam: Well...

Man: Herr Doktor Obsteil
is the Head of ARAKNID.

This is our chance
to smash them once and for all.

I'll have to call you back, sir.

Something big has just come up.

I'm Pritti.

I can see that from here.

Pritti Redbush.

Well...

that remains to be seen.

Where are you going?

England expects every man
to do his duty.

Cut there. Bravo, Kingsley.
Now, Benson. You ready?

Sort of.

Wouldn't mind throwing in
a few changes.

Less of the chit-chat.
More muscle.

The script is there
for a reason.

It's too frilly.
Not right.

Campbell: Darling,
if I can recite the entirety

of "Uncle Vanya" off by heart,

I'm sure you can remember
a few innuendos.

It's going to be harder for me
if I'm just improvising.

Yeah I'm not asking.
This is how I want to play it.

Alright, alright.
Let him try it.

Okay, stand by.
Places, everyone.

- Man #2: Action!
- Benson: Stuff your orders.

I'm writing Herr Doktor Obsteil
a fatal prescription.

Ah. Redbush, is it?

You were supposed
to make contact an hour ago.

I could make contact
with you now.

Hmm. Holster it.

I'll give you a shooting lesson
when I get back.

If you walk out on me,
Jonas Best...

I'll kill you.

And cut there.

Well... that was lively.

You can get up now, Benson.

Not likely.

He's dead.

- I need some air.
- I need a drink.

It looked like a heart attack.

I wouldn't be so sure.

I looked, but the tank's empty.
Just sand and plants.

Right. Thank you.

Not to alarm anyone,

but I think you
should all check your clothes.

Because...?

Because there's a
deadly deathstalker scorpion

on the loose.

Horrible way to go.

When we're on location,
we'll have to keep an eye out

for all sorts of things.

You know, snakes,
stingrays, centipedes...

"We"?

Just think of the stories
you could bring back

from Jamaica or Japan.

An adventure, together!

If I get the part.

Well...

I'd have to clear it
with the paper.

It's a lot to think about.

Bad news.
No sign of the scorpion.

- Terrific.
- No. It gets worse.

It couldn't escape unaided,

and it wouldn't make
a bed in someone's hat.

Do you think someone
put it in there?

I think this was
cold-blooded murder.

Well, we need to find
that murder weapon.

Peggy, can you be in charge of
finding this scorpion, please?

- But...
- Now I did find a few things

- that might be of interest.
- Really, sir?

Alzedrine?

I wouldn't have pegged Benson
as the sort to use amphetamines.

Boniface:
And then there's this.

Hans Obsteil.
Casino bomb. Harpoon.

All plot points
from the book.

Oh, so it is true!

Ruth, what do
you know about this?

Word back on Fleet Street

was that Lincoln didn't
come up with the plots alone.

Proof of that would be
quite a piece of leverage.

Ask yourself this-- why
would a beach bum like Benson

be up against a TV star
and a classically trained actor?

What? You think
he was using this as leverage?

Can we not share theories with
the reporter and murder witness?

Felix, perhaps you could
help with the search.

I used to help you all the time.

There is a killer out there.

And for all I know, you
may be trying to protect them.

Really, Sam?

You've made your bed.

And I shall enjoy lying in it.

I'm going to see what Lincoln
has to say about this.

Lincoln: My friend just died and
you think I had a hand in it?!

Sam:
Before turning author,

you were in the
Special Operations Executive.

That makes you something of
an expert in underhand killing.

And you owned the murder weapon.

What sort of a killer
shows off his modus operandi

to a policeman minutes
before carrying out a murder?

A gambler, perhaps.

One with a flair
for the dramatic.

And, well, maybe you thought
it was the perfect alibi.

- Tommyrot.
- Benson was a game fisherman.

He smuggled wild animals.

He didn't get that audition
on his acting talent.

He had something on you.

I told him I was
going to write a spy novel.

We sat up drinking and
worked out a few ideas together.

Just because he wrote them down

doesn't mean
he came up with them.

But you still put him
forward for the role?

He insisted...

or he'd tell the press
I was a fraud.

- Which I am not.
- So it was blackmail?

It was bargaining.
And I agreed the terms.

And what if he wanted more?
What if he demanded the role?

Look, I-I'm not convinced
by this murder business anyway,

and neither is the studio.

It was just
some horrible accident,

but the screen-tests
are going ahead.

The new Best is due on location
in less than a week.

- You are joking.
- About my work? Never.

"Bullionmaster" was a flop.

The studio spent more
on-- on sharks and ninjas

than the other four films
combined!

This is make
or break for Agent Best.

This has to be a hit!

Convenient, then,
that the worst player

is out of the race,
don't you think?

Sister?

Oh, I'm glad you're here.

Everything from Mr. Boyd's room.

He travelled light, thankfully.

Here, come
and have a look at this.

So the good thing
about the Alzedrine inhaler

is the aluminium.

Now, the finger oils

have actually etched onto
the surface...

and the bulk of the fingerprints
on it aren't from Mr. Boyd.

- It's not his?
- No.

I think he stole it.

Sam:
Mr. Kamen, a word, please.

Campbell: Who are you?

Division 4?

The Deuxième Bureau?

We're the police.

Mm-hmm.

A likely story, Comrade.

If this is some kind of acting
stunt, staying in character...

I warn you, this is
official police business,

and we need clarity on this.

Apologies.

Acting is my lifeblood...

character my... raison d'être.

- How can I help?
- This is your Alzedrine?

It was found in Benson's pocket
when he died.

My guess is without your high
to settle your nerves,

you couldn't make the jump.

I am an actor.
Not a bloody stunt man.

I shouldn't be jumping
out of a plane, full stop.

That's what
back screen projection is for.

You claimed
that it was sabotage.

Why would you blame it
on Benson?

Because he was
already messing me around,

going through my things,
helping himself to my medicine.

I only take that for
congestion...

by the way.

The man was an oaf.
A brute.

But as for assassinating him,
why would I?

He wasn't a genuine threat
for the part.

I had nothing
to fear from him.

Except to expose you
as a coward and a drug addict?

Phoebe: Aah! Scorpion!
There it is!

- You've found it?
- Boniface: Yes.

Well spotted, Ms. Volante.

Well, she was
trying to kill it.

Ah, Claudine!
You've found her!

Boniface: Alive and kicking.

I will need to take it with me,

but the house should be safe
to sleep in now.

- That's a relief.
- Not entirely safe.

There was a murder here.

- Yes. That too.
- So you keep saying,

but I don't buy it, myself.

Now, as soon as
I've got my new Agent Best,

I'm putting him on a plane.

- Crikey.
- Everyone should get some rest.

We'll get back to it
in the morning.

Wonderful. Thank you.

In that case, you should get
whatever you can

from the, um, weapon
as soon as you can.

Right. Yes.

Test the living,
angry, lethal scorpion.

Of course.

Morning!

Any progress?

- No. Not yet.
- Well, our killer could be

overseas in the next 48 hours.

We need something concrete.

Did Benson have that?

Boniface: So it seems.

Just the article on its own?
How odd.

I'll test for fingerprints
in a moment.

Hmm. Juniper?

I expect from when Ms. Volante
threw her cocktail at it.

That's one way
to tamper with evidence.

Well, she was very eager
to hit it.

Has a keen aim, I might add.

Hmm.

Of course!

Be careful. I'll be back.

Oh!

Forgot my breakfast. Sorry.

I've already telephoned
the number.

It's a clinic.

And there are very few reasons
why a young man might recommend

a specialist to a woman.

You can't help yourself,
can you?

We always used to help
each other.

- I scratch your back...
- That was then.

I'm still a journalist,
and you're still a detective.

Whatever happened between us
hasn't changed that.

Well, what about
travelling around the world

with Kingsley Markham?

What about solving this murder?

Do you think she'll talk to you?
Ms. Volante?

I think she's good
at handling men.

Woman-to-woman,
I might catch her off guard.

No secrets.

So you killed him.

What drove you?

East and West?

Queen and Country?
I...

You might be deadly,
Agent Best, but...

but...
Oh, no.

But...

"...you're never
too deadly to die."

You'd think
I could remember that.

Well, they can edit out
a fluffed line.

What they can't fake
is all that emotion.

So... bravo, I say.

Thanks.

Before this, the most
I'd ever said on screen was

"Keep your claws
off my Gala Chocolate."

And is this what
you always wanted?

Acting,
and not modelling?

I want to be good at something.

To be able to
look after myself, and...

not be someone's property.

And do you think you'll keep it?

The baby?

Was Benson was the father?

You don't miss a trick, do you?

Well, that scene
with Mr. Boyd...

the line about killing him
if he walked out on you...

Improvisational intuition.

It was very convincing.

He was so sure he had the part.

He had dirt on the other two,
he said,

and wasn't going to let some
"dumb brat" ruin his life.

He thought
he was about to become

the biggest sex symbol
in the world.

Well, that must have
made you angry.

Oh.

You were doing so well
with your sisterly concern.

Are you after the story
for your paper...

or for the handsome detective,
I wonder?

So you think I'd kill
to solve my man troubles, hmm?

Does that say more about me...

or you?

I won't ask you again.

Is Miss Redbush a double-agent?
Is she working for ARAKNID?

And cut!
No, no, no. No, no, no.

I-It's not enough.
Look, look, look.

Hans Obsteil has just fed your
best friend to the barracudas.

You need to show more cruelty.
Come on, go again.

- More! More!
- Cruel.

Any joy with Ms. Volante?

Well, she was right
to hate Benson Boyd.

She also said he had
"dirt" on the other two.

- More blackmail?
- Lincoln: And... action!

That means he must have
something on Kingsley.

You said you wanted to help
solve this murder.

Well, yes, but...

Kingsley:
I won't ask you again.

Is Miss Redbush a double-agent?

Is she working for ARAKNID?

And cut.
No, no. No.

It's still not--
It's-- It's not quite...

You need-- Oh! Inspector.

Would you come over here
for a second?

Look, you've restrained people,
haven't you? Dished it out?

Would you show him
how it's done?

Well, I've plenty of
stunt experience.

I doubt there's anything
Sam here can show me

that I don't already know.

All due respect, old chap.

Of course, old chap.
I'll have a go.

Good, good. Okay, let's try.

Sam: Do you mind?

Lincoln: And action!

Forgive me, Doktor.
This may sting a little.

And cut! That's it, that's it.
That's the chops!

Now, now, Kingsley,
try and be a bit more like Sam.

There's a good fellow.
Once more, come on.

You can do it, come on.

Sam: Thank you.

Here you are.

Just a minute.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

I won't let you ruin
things for Kingsley.

Or your chance to run away
with him?

He missed out
on the role before.

This is his last chance.

Before he ages out, you mean.

Oh, come on.
He's a natural for it.

It's the one thing
he'd be really good at.

Only the one thing?
Shame.

Oh, you're still
just as arrogant as ever.

Not arrogant.

- Confident.
- Confident of what, exactly?

My judgement.

Uh, there's
something you should see.

- The cigarette lighter.
- No. Not that.

Oh, I see. It's missing.

The bomb!

I was expecting
Doktor Hans Obsteil.

He left...

empty-handed.

Did you get your answers,
Agent Best?

Or has life dealt you
another losing hand?

And cut!

For heaven's sake! I can't
work with all this interruption!

Everyone be quiet! Listen!

The shoe is ticking.

Get down! Now!

Well, rather you than me,
old boy.

I think you need to cancel
the whole thing.

Someone's hell bent
on killing the Best men.

No! Never.

Look, I don't know
what's going on here,

but I will not be intimidated.

The screen tests
are going ahead.

I've-- I've too much
invested in this.

I've got to find the right man.

I will not risk Best going bust.

Felix, make sure there's
someone on site at all times.

We don't know what
they'll try next.

- Looks strange.
- Hmm.

What happened?
You're not hurt, are you?

No. Somebody
tried to blow us up.

- A bomb?
- Yes.

Where was he
when the bomb went off?

- Oh, that's right.
- What?

I nearly forgot.

The bomb-disposing hero?

It's not him.

Kingsley: Now, I won't let you
out of my sight again.

See the world with me, Ruth.

I need you by my side.

Well, why not?
You only live once!

Mm.

Kingsley Markham?

Come with me, please.

Oh, come off it!

I suppose I shouldn't
question the timing.

It's obvious you and Ruth
have a past.

Well, if we're talking
of timings,

you were the only one
away from the grounds

when the bomb went off.

Lunch--
at Armstrong and Simmons.

- You can check.
- We will.

You have something of a history
with explosives, don't you?

Defusing them.
Not planting them. Yes.

Like this?

- Yes. Exactly.
- Delicate job?

Very.

Take a closer look.

You're clearly right-handed.

So when you were dealing
with the bomb,

why did you hold those pliers
in your left hand?

I take it Ruth doesn't know.

Look.

I'm not a fraud.

I was in that unit, yes.
but it was another engineer,

Cole Higson,
who worked on that bomb.

The next day Higson
and another friend were killed,

and suddenly I was being touted
as the only surviving hero.

No one left alive
to contradict it.

Convenient.

My agent insisted on cashing in.

Thought no one would notice.

Is that what
Benson threatened you with?

Yes. I was surprised that
he even read the papers.

He didn't seem the type.

Sam: And to think your secret
almost died with him.

Just like your pal Higson.

If you tell Ruth about this...

Go on.

You don't threaten me.

What would happen if I did?

Juniper.

Fascinating.

This is really
rather fascinating.

See, something has bonded
to the sand like cement.

It's kept this
rather interesting shape.

Does Sam really
suspect Kingsley,

or is he just trying
to spoil my happiness?

Sam wouldn't do this
to spite you, Ruth.

I'm sorry.

So you really think
Kingsley could have done it?

Well...

you know him better than we do.

How do you feel about him?

I know he cares for me.
Loves me.

He's not afraid to show it.

That's a rare quality in a man,

being able to show
their emotions.

Yes, but they do say
that still waters run deep.

Or they just freeze over.

Do you love him?

Kingsley? Um...

not yet.

But it's the chance to be loved.

And should I really gamble
on longer odds...

when I have something this good
right now?

Phoebe: You might be deadly,
Agent Best...

but you're never too deadly
to die.

So...

you're working for
the other side.

Wrong.

It's a private vendetta.

Hans Obsteil is my father.

- Venus Obsteil?
- The very same.

Now hands... up.

If you insist.

Campbell:
I have to hand it to you.

It was an excellent performance.

And cut.

Excellent choices, Campbell.
Very convincing.

Look, I think we'll call
it a day there.

Thanks all for your hard work

and for not letting
these hiccups get in your way.

We'll do the dailies overnight,

then have an answer
on Jonas Best

first thing tomorrow.

Then, it's next stop Panama.

No time to waste!

Wake up.

We've barely got an hour
to catch our suspect

- before they may be on a plane.
- Sorry.

Ah, Sister,
did the bomb yield anything?

Sadly heat and the blast wiped
almost every trace from it.

But interestingly, the
underside of the card shoe

yielded some peculiar results--

birch oil, seal oil,
and even a rye bread beer.

- Meaning?
- Oh, I don't know.

Yet. Sorry.

But there's also this.

Now, it's definitely sand
from the scorpion's cage.

Somehow it mixed with gin
and then dried into this cement.

And you did say you wanted
some concrete evidence.

Yes, sorry. Uh...

So, martinis are
the favourite drink

of both Agent Best
and his author.

Everybody had gin
in one form or another...

except for Ms. Volante.

- She was only drinking water.
- Hmm.

- So, no rye bread beer at all?
- No.

What are we missing?
Why was Benson killed?

What was he mixed up in?

Mixed up in...

Mixed up in...

- Mixed up in...
- Woman: # She's a sister ♪

♪ You cannot miss her ♪

♪ Clues undone,
crooks on the run ♪

♪ Your shot
is a million to one ♪

♪ When you face
the Golden Nu-u-u-u-un ♪

♪ The Golden Nu-u-u-u-un ♪

♪ The Golden Nun ♪

- Bingo!
- Sister?

It was the cocktail shaker, Sam.
I know how they did it.

And birch oil, seal oil,
rye bread beer.

They aren't separate samples.

They're all one sample!

- Do they make a cocktail?
- No.

But they do make a
very interesting case!

Well, this hasn't been
an easy decision to make...

Ah. Just in time.
We're about to announce our man.

Perhaps we should announce
our man first.

Sister Boniface?

Mr. Kamen, moments
after Mr. Boyd was killed,

you said that you needed a drink
and left the room,

taking a cocktail shaker
with you--

a cocktail shaker containing
remnants of gin and sand--

sand that you had to get rid of
that you scooped up

transporting a scorpion
to Benson Boyd's hat.

Sand? Is this a joke?

Are you forgetting I
was almost blown up?

- That killer came for me?
- A misdirect.

You had 10 seconds to escape
if you needed.

But luckily for you,
I came rushing in.

Boniface: In fact, it was the
misdirect that betrayed you.

In placing the bomb, you left
traces of several peculiar oils.

Oils we'll almost certainly find
on your hands right now

and all used in the making of
a certain type of leather...

Sister.

Russian leather.

What is this?

He's a spy.

When Mr. Boyd helped himself
to your Alzedrine,

he discovered what you
were really packing.

Being a smuggler,
he was well-versed

on secret compartments.

Will you just give it back?

Thought you had
a whole stash in here.

What's all this gear?

Where's all your dope?

Ooh. Secrets, eh?

I thought there was
something fishy about you.

Sam: And so you killed
to silence him.

An assassination, you called it.
Ask yourself this.

Why would a
classically trained actor

who can recite Chekhov
and hated stunts

be so determined
to play Agent Best?

And anything suspicious
about his behaviour,

he could have claimed
that he was...

"method acting."

And in a high-profile role
like Jonas Best, Mr. Kamen here

can gather compromising intel
on high society.

I am right in saying
members of the Royal Family

- attend premieres?
- Sam: What were your orders?

To spy or to kill?

Ahh, ahh, ahh. Careful.

You wouldn't want to find out
how sharp my reflexes are.

Unbelievable.

A communist.

A genius.

How humiliating it would be
when I revealed myself,

the world's
most famous secret agent,

as a defector.

British Intelligence
would be in disgrace.

Well, the game's up, chum.

Not quite.

I can still strike a blow
against Western hypocrisy.

But where to send this final,
lethal barb?

The beloved TV actor?

Do your worst.

Campbell:
The celebrated author?

The pregnant model?

The interfering nun?

Oh, yes. We have a dossier
on you, Sister.

Oh, really?

Campbell:
The intrepid journalist?

Don't you dare.

Campbell:
The stupid policeman,

who just didn't know
when to be quiet?

I'll drink to that!

Sam?

Sam: Ruth!

Are you hurt?

I'm just a little...

shaken.

My organisation
won't forget this.

Your embarrassing incompetence,
you mean?

This never happened
with the other fella.

I suppose now my secret is out,
that I've lost the part.

Not at all, my dear.
They can shoot around it.

If they could hide the fact
the last Agent Best was bald,

they can certainly disguise
a little bump.

Excuse me.

Well, the part's yours,
effective immediately.

By default?

You just stood up
to an actual KGB killer.

- You earned it-- you keep it.
- Oh, congratulations.

Well, I couldn't have done it
without you, darling.

I am sorry about Benson.

Ah, he was a good friend,
but hard work.

My dear, be sure
to mention in your exclusive

that Benson Boyd was
the co-creator of all this.

The next film is going to set
that right.

- Alright.
- Which I-- we--

need to pack for.

But first, please, a toast.

I shall fetch some champagne.

Sir. Sir.

Sir. There are some men from
Special Branch at the station.

Okay, yeah, we'll be there in
five minutes, yeah? Thank you.

Well, we shouldn't
keep them waiting.

Genuine secret agent adventure,
and I miss the bomb,

I miss the harpoon,
I miss the knockout punch.

All I got to do
was look for an ugly bug.

- Oh, the scorpion!
- Oh! Where?!

Oh, no, no. No, no.
Still at the lab.

I mustn't forget
to give her back.

You know, it's probably
a good thing

that you weren't there
for the dangerous bits.

And I suspect you're
not the only one who feels

- like they have lost out.
- Sam?

He'll be alright, won't he?

Perhaps I should get
a drink in for him.

- He's certainly earned it.
- Let me.

I've got an idea.

How was Special Branch?

A lot of "need to know" talks

that apparently Sam and I
do not need to know.

Officially, I have been sworn
to never speak about it again.

- Of course.
- But they assured me that

everything is in safe hands now.

Now that we've solved it
for them?

Sam put it a little bit
more... colourfully.

Did he say
if he'd be joining us?

I'm not sure.

Um...

he seemed like
he needed to be alone.

Well done.

You got your man.

You saved my life.

I owe you a drink at least.

I'd love to,
but I don't have time.

I have to smooth things over
with the paper before I go.

You'd have all the time
in the world

if you weren't running
off to work on your tan

with a man you hardly know.

What is so dreadful
about a man who loves me

offering me the world?

It's not enough.

You were supposed to dazzle.

I'll still keep hunting
for stories.

There are always going to be
hidden truths to uncover.

But Kingsley comes first?

Is there a reason I should stay?

Yes!

Ruth, I...

I...

You know.

Thank you.

For?

Kingsley told me
about the hero story.

You had a chance to humiliate
him, and you didn't.

- It wasn't for his sake.
- I know.

Well, tell the others it was
lovely to see them.

Take care of yourself, Sam.

Nobody does it better.

Enjoy the view?

Here you go, sir.
Vodka martini.

- You've earned it.
- Ahh.

Disgusting! A pint, please.

- I'm sorry, Sam.
- For what?

Oh, her?

Eh, nothing beats
a bachelor's freedom.

- Eh, Felix?
- Yes, sir.

Felix?

- What?
- Drinking?

Do you not have work tomorrow?

Your face.

Are you going to introduce me,

or do I have to do
everything myself?

Um...

Peggy, Sam, Sister Boniface.

This is... Victoria...

my fiancée.

Well, so pleased to meet you,

and welcome to Great Slaughter.