All language subtitles for Sister.Boniface.Mysteries.S02E02

Thank you.

That's my absolute pleasure.

Welcome to Pranayama.

I'm Marion Grey.
You're checking in?

Yes. My wife and I.

She's just coming.

Come along, dear!

I'm coming, darling.

"Is This Baron Battenberg?"

I have no idea.
Who is Baron Battenberg?

The real question is,
"Where is Baron Battenberg?"

He vanished five years ago

after his sports car was
dredged up from the Thames.

No sign of a body.
Rumour has it

his wife, Marion, murdered him.

It was quite a sensation
in the tabloids.

I should think
it jolly well would be.

The point is,
there have been sightings before

in India, Marrakesh, Istanbul.

But the family are certain
he is dead.

Well, all except his brother,
Edwin, who swears he's alive

and who just happens
to be living with Marion.

Oh, the baron's wife.

They run Pranayama together,
a couples retreat

right here in Great Slaughter.

I've had a tip off
that the overrated hack

who wrote that,
Victor Goodbody...

Puffed-up little newshound...
Is convinced

that the man in the picture is,
in fact, Edwin in disguise.

He's on his way
to Pranayama as we speak,

to expose either Marion or Edwin
or both

as the baron's murderers.

Well, do you think
they killed him?

I haven't a clue, but if
anyone's going to find out,

it had damn well better be me.

I will not be bested
by "The Times"...

- Not on my own patch.
- Oh, Baron bloody Battenberg.

Apparently,
the Met are getting flak

for not investigating properly,

and they're kicking the flak
to us.

So I have to look into
a five-year-old murder,

if it even was a murder,
and Lowsley wants results ASAP.

Well, how serendipitous.

Ruth's about to look
into the very same case.

Oh, good luck with that.

I hear they're notoriously
press shy.

Oh, and you think
flashing your warrant card

- will make them confess all?
- Hmm.

You both have a point,
because you both have a problem.

Solution... you go undercover
with each other...

as husband and wife.

You can't be serious.

- Absolutely not.
- That's ridiculous.

Well, no one would believe for
a second I'd be married to you.

Charming.

So, Simon and Kate, how long
have you two been married?

Almost six years.

You'd get less for burglary,
wouldn't you?

My husband's sense of humour's
an acquired taste.

I've yet to acquire it.

The aura between you...
It's not at all good.

We can change that, of course,
but first, I want to know,

what do you want
from each other?

Well, I just like Simon to be
a little less...

- insufferable.
- Hmm, yeah.

I'd like Kate
to make more of an effort.

She's in her dressing gown
most days.

Swears like a sailor,
smokes like a chimney.

There's
that sense of humour again.

I think you two have come
to the right place.

Let me show you around.

There are various group sessions
which I'd encourage you to join,

but do feel free
to take time out for yourselves.

Sometimes all a strained
relationship needs

is a bit of peace and quiet.

Do you have children?

Yes.
Peggy, Felix, Sam, Ruth.

Stop.
We're stopping at four.

I have a feeling
you'll appreciate this.

Pools of tranquillity.

Our guests come here
for private contemplation.

It's lovely.
The whole place is.

Thank you. Edwin and I...
You'll meet him...

- We built it from nothing.
- Is that Edwin Battenberg?

I'm sorry to ask. It's just we saw
an article in the paper, didn't we?

- Yes.
- About him... the missing baron being spotted.

- He was your husband, wasn't he?
- He still is, I'm sorry to say.

And do you really think
it was him?

It was a bad picture, but, yes.

Jonty only pretends to be dead
so I can't clear my name.

When the violent,
philandering swine does return,

I'll divorce him.

Here at Pranayama,
we practise gratitude,

and love and commune
with nature,

and we center our body
and minds through meditation

and, of course, yoga.

Yoga?

That's it.
Lengthen those spines.

Reach for celestial vitality.

This is ridiculous.

Only if you can't do it.

Very good, Mrs. Seitang.

And now let's bend from the hips
for Adho Mukha Svanasana,

Downward Facing Dog.

Legs and back straight.

That's it.

Feel the energy
flowing through you.

Excuse me.

Who are you?

Victor Goodbody... "Times."

You're not welcome here,
Mr. Goodbody.

This is private property.

Excuse me.

Did you say Goodbody?
Victor Goodbody?

Oh, I've read all your articles.
I think you're just brilliant.

I had an article published
once in the "Women's Weekly."

I'd just love
to pick your brain sometime.

Sure, sweetie.
But I'm working right now.

How about you call my office?

Thank you.

I'd like to talk to Edwin.

Ask him if he's made
any recent trips to London.

Well, he's busy, and he hasn't
left this place for weeks.

Now I'd like you
off my premises.

This is a place of sanctuary,
and it's for couples only.

You seem inordinately threatened
by my presence, Mrs. Battenberg.

My name's Grey.

I rejected my husband's name
a long time ago,

just like I rejected his money.

How does that fit
with your little narrative

that I murdered him?

Money's not
the only motive to kill.

We all know the playboy baron
enjoyed his women

as racy as his cars.

A scorned wife could easily
tamper with a man's brake line.

Told you to leave.

Marion,
let's not give in to anger.

I think it's best that you go.

Don't come back.

Ever.

Bye-bye, sweetie.

Is he leaving?

I can hardly walk after that.

I don't know about you, but
I'm feeling a little peckish.

Come on.

Erm, excuse me.
Is there any meat in this?

No. No, there isn't.

We don't believe
in murdering innocent animals

just so you can gorge
on their flesh.

Right. Understood.

Well, this will do nicely.

Love a good carrot.

Honestly, Connie, you didn't
have to bite his head off.

Well... he wanted meat
on the menu.

Looks like compost.

I never thought I'd say this,

but I miss Mrs. Clam's cooking.

You're a brave man,
taking on Connie.

I'm Ben.
This is my wife, Lee.

Oh, pleased to meet you.
Simon.

Kate. How long have you
been here, Lee?

They asked how long
we've been out.

Oh, sorry. I'm deaf.

About a week.

But we're paid up for two.

Ben keeps threatening
to go home,

but we're gonna stick it
through, aren't we, love?

Yeah, I said so, didn't I?

I feel like I've seen you
somewhere before.

- Are you an actress?
- Oh, no.

But I did win Miss Croydon '61.

Did you? Huh!

Touch each other's faces...

bodies.

Explore.
Be welcoming.

This is your other half.

Your anchor.

Your soul mate.

Say hello.

Hello.

Hello.

And now I want you to hold hands

and say what you love the most
about each other.

I loved my father very much.
Wait, hear me out.

He was a brilliant journalist.

Great mind, quick instincts.
Best I ever saw.

You remind me of him sometimes.

What I like... Sorry...
Love about you...

is your ambition,

your independence.

And you're not half bad
to look at either.

- You look...
- A fright without makeup.

And, yes, this night dress
is from Woolworths.

At least I don't look like
a ten-year-old in my pyjamas.

I was gonna say
you look beautiful.

And, yes, I haven't worn pyjamas
since I was ten.

Damned uncomfortable.

Well, get used to it,
cos there is the floor.

I'm not sharing the bed.

Fine.

I'll need these then.

Well, you don't need
all of them.

Of course I do.
Remember? I'm ten.

I may want to build a fort.

Look, can't I just
have one pillow?

Yes!

Yes! Yes!

Yes!

11:30?

Thanks for waking me.

Where the hell have you been?

I thought you'd want to sleep.
God knows I haven't.

I've just walked miles
to find a telephone box

to report back to Lowsley.

Hang on.
Is that Goodbody's car?

- What's he doing back?
- I have no idea.

I looked for him
but couldn't find him.

Mrs. Seitang thinks she saw him
walking off

with someone towards the woods.

She thinks?

Poor eyesight.

The woods, eh?

Maybe he's onto something.

Fancy a walk, Mrs. Wilson?

All right.

Certainly idyllic.

Yes, lovely.

Peaceful.

I can't stand it.

Oh, me neither.
I miss my noisy office.

Typewriters clacking,
telephones ringing.

What I wouldn't give
for a stiff drink

and a nice, juicy steak.

There's smoke over there.

Wonder what started it.

Must have been the sun.

Weren't these the ones
Goodbody was wearing?

There's shirt buttons here
and more.

There doesn't seem
to be anything else.

Well, what would you expect
to find?

Oh, wait,
there's another button.

Sam?

It's Goodbody's body.

I'd say the poor chap died
no more than 2 or 3 hours ago.

Okay, so between 10:00
and 11:00.

He has defensive wounds
on his arms.

Clearly, he was bludgeoned.
But with what?

Exhibit "A."
Found it over there.

Yeah, but why was he shirtless?

Excellent question, Peggy.
It's unusual

to rip one's clothes off,
scattering buttons about.

Maybe the killer made him strip.

Well, look at that.

He's missing
his mandibular second premolar.

Hardly surprising
if he was bludgeoned.

True, but the presence
of a bloody handkerchief

suggests he was injured earlier.

Punched possibly.

Button, bag that up, please.

Felix, we'll question the guests
first, then the staff.

We don't want anyone leaving.

Well, you can't question them
yourself. You blow our cover.

Ruth, someone has been murdered.

Well, I know that,
but we had a deal.

Well, I'm sorry,
but I don't have time

to cleanse my chakra.

Er, if I may interject,
Ruth's right.

Reveal yourselves now
and you lose your advantage.

Felix and I
can still report to you.

We'll just pretend
that you're Simon and Kate.

You can't be serious.

Am I supposed to go along
with this nonsense?

Kate and I went into the woods
for some nookie.

Yes, that's right.

And we saw something buried in
the woods, didn't we, darling?

So you just decided to dig?

Erm, I imagine
you're both in shock.

Oh, it was awful. I only spoke
to the man yesterday.

He was a brilliant journalist.

But, erm, Marion and Edwin
threw him out.

Well, he was here uninvited,
so, yes, we asked him to leave.

That's the last
either of us saw of him.

Okay, erm,
did anyone else see him?

I did...
This morning by the pond.

But we only talked
for, like, a minute.

- What about?
- I was upset.

He asked if I was all right.
I said, "Yeah." And he left.

All right. And Mrs. Seitang
saw Mr. Goodbody

go into the woods yesterday.

I would like to question her.

I think she's in
the meditation room.

And I'll head to the lab.

Er, in case anyone here
was wondering.

Well... do come with me,
everyone.

Ben, that's a nasty cut
you've got on your knuckles.

How did you do that?

I had an argument with Lee.

No, not like that.
I-I punched a tree.

I see.
It's just the dead reporter...

Someone knocked his tooth out.

I wouldn't know about that.

And what do you care?
You're not a copper.

Oh, yeah.
This is so much easier.

Between 10:00 and 11:00?
Well, I was here.

Clearing up after breakfast.

- Alone?
- Yes, alone.

Marion can't afford
any more staff,

and I am happy to do it.

How long have you known Marion?

I was her housekeeper in London.

And before you ask, no, she did
not bump off her husband,

pig that he was.

Er, no.
No guests in here out of hours.

I was told there was
a first aid kit.

On the shelf.

Look, I don't know what happened
to that journalist,

but it's got nothing to do
with anyone here.

We don't kill things
at Pranayama.

Eureka.

There's only one bed.

Unfortunately for me.

Propriety intact.

Erm, so I noticed
that Goodbody's eyes

were rather, erm, bloodshot
and swollen.

One might assume that was to do
with a sudden, violent death,

but, erm,
something was niggling me.

So I employed the use
of fluorescein to make sure.

No?

It's a dye used to reveal
superficial irregularities

on the surface of the cornea.

Lo and behold,
there was evidence of sun damage

from staring directly at the
fiery orb with dilated pupils.

Why would he stare at the sun?

How to put it?

He was as high as a kite.

Hence his state of undress.

I did a blood test
and found traces

of lysergic acid diethylamide,
otherwise known as LSD.

Psychedelics produce,
er, hallucinations

and an apparent expansion
of consciousness, so...

So someone killed Goodbody
while he was intoxicated?

Precisely.

Could the killer have dosed him
to render him helpless?

- Psychedelics?
- Well, it's not illegal.

It's not,
but Ben chickened out anyway.

I didn't chicken out.
I changed my mind.

See, this is what
I'm talking about.

I never said you were boring.

Just that you needed
to try new things.

New things. New people.
Same difference, right?

Oh, for the last time, Ben, I
am not interested in other men.

Okay, okay. I get it.
You two... You two argued.

Yeah, but then we, er, made up,
didn't we?

- Yes.
- I can vouch for that.

Er, we have the room next door.

Can you say what time
they returned?

Just curious.

Well, I was asleep,
but they woke me up at 11:30.

So there's still half an hour
that's unaccounted for.

Yeah. All I can say is
Ben was with me.

I don't know what happened
to that horrible journalist,

but it had nothing to do
with us.

Excuse me.
Is there a payphone here?

I need to check on the children.

Yeah, there's one in reception.

There's a payphone in reception?

Quick catch up?

Goodbody was dosed with LSD,
almost certainly by the killer.

Question...
Where did they get it?

Yes, we administer LSD
to some of the guests,

but Goodbody wasn't a guest.

Excuse me, Sister.

We suspect he ingested it
unknowingly

- or perhaps unwillingly.
- Where have you been?

- I'll tell you later.
- Well, it couldn't have been us.

I'd taken some myself,

and Marion was guiding us all
through it.

You took the drugs, too?

It opens my eyes fully.

You yourself might want
to try it.

Your prana looks
particularly blocked.

Never mind my prana.

Were there any eyes
fully on the LSD?

I suppose someone might have

taken the bottle
when you weren't looking.

Or we have some more
in the office.

It could have come from there.

You two really should
be more careful.

Or, erm,
perhaps they were careful.

Careful to construct
the perfect alibi.

Consider a roomful of witnesses
to vouch for their presence

at the exact time of the murder.

But how reliable
are those witnesses?

While your guests were under
the spell of psychedelics,

either of you could have
slipped out unnoticed.

So you're saying one of us
left the session,

dosed the journalist,
lured him to the woods,

- then killed and buried him?
- Well, it's possible.

I hear that you lost your temper

with Mr. Goodbody
only yesterday.

- You violently pushed him.
- Violently?

Marion doesn't have
a violent bone in her body,

and neither do I.

Here at Pranayama,
all life is sacred.

If you forgive me,
Mr. Battenberg,

that is evidently not the case.

- I knew it!
- Ben!

All this time
you've been sleeping around!

I haven't!

All right, now that is it.

- Come on.
- Get off.

Are you all right, Lee?
Did he hurt you?

Ben would never hurt me.

Well, then what happened?

He found them.

I'm not cheating on him
or anything.

I just... I don't want
to get pregnant yet.

We really want to have kids,

but I don't think
he's ready to be a dad.

I'm sorry.

It's not his fault.
He...

He's never really had anyone
till me.

It's been in and out of care.
Borstal.

That's in the past.

And what about your past, Lee?

I remember the article now,
when you won Miss Croydon.

It was written
by Victor Goodbody.

He implied that you only won

because you went to bed
with one of the judges.

He only wrote that cos
I wouldn't sleep with him.

I was gonna be
the face of Saunderson Soap,

but they dropped me after that.

I know what it looks like,

but I swear, I don't know
what happened to him.

Well, maybe Ben
taught him a lesson.

I-I never told him
about any of that.

If I had, he would have...

You better hope you didn't
lay a finger on her.

Of course not. What do you
take me for? I love her.

Maybe so. But you can't deny
you've got a temper.

Did you punch that journalist?

Yeah, I did, cos he was a creep.

- But that was all that happened?
- Hmm.

Look, I saw them earlier
at the rock pool.

She was upset from our fight,

and he looked like he was
upsetting her even more.

So after she left, I belted him.

You said you punched a tree.

- You are such a liar!
- Oh, I'm a liar. Really?

After what I just found in that bathroom?
- Oh, that is not the same thing!

Yeah, it's not.
At least I was defending you.

I do not need you to defend me!

Have you got
any more cotton balls?

What are we doing here?

My neck is killing me.

Still?
All right, sit down.

No, sit.

That's what happens when
you sleep with three pillows.

Sleep?
I've forgotten what that is.

Oh, that's it.
Just a little on the left.

You've also forgotten
my question.

Oh, sorry. Ben said
that he punched Goodbody here,

and I'm just trying to figure
out what happened next.

Maybe he...

Hang on.

What's there?

Bingo.

Jolly good find.

I'll, of course, have to confirm
it matches the missing tooth,

which I suspect it does.

But we already know
Ben hit Goodbody.

She's right.
It doesn't give us anything new.

Au contraire. Every nugget
of information is significant.

Nugget.

Oh, yes. Very good.

Ah, Sister Boniface.
Back again, I see.

Well, we're just about
to sit down for breakfast.

Would you like to join us?

We can set an extra place,
couldn't we, Connie?

The more, the merrier.

I must confess, I skipped
breakfast this morning.

I'd be delighted.

Good.

Gosh, how kind of them.

Au contraire.

I'm sure it's nicer
than it looks.

Oh, grace.
I haven't said grace.

Good idea. Let's let the eggs
get even colder.

Bless us, oh, Lord,
and these, they gifts

which we are about to receive
from thy bounty,

through Christ, our Lord.

- Amen.
- Amen.

Bon appétit.

Praying didn't help then?

No, it did not.

Right, I'll get a mould

of Mr. Goodbody's teeth done
forthwith.

And if I had any more fish
in my goggles,

I'll be sure to let you know.

Sorry. What?

Oh, good grief.
There are two of them now.

How marvellous.

Anyway, pip pip.

Sister?

Sister?

Her pupils are dilated.

Oh, no.

- Is it LSD?
- Must be.

- Okay, come and help me.
- Oh, an octopus.

So many tentacles.

What do you reckon, Shelly?

Should we take her
to the ship's doctor?

Oh, yes. Shelly.

Because of the, erm...

Is Sister Boniface all right?

Does she look all right?
She's been given LSD.

Which one of you did it?

You're accusing us?

That's why you invited her
to breakfast, wasn't it?

So you could lace those awful
eggs or the orange juice.

- Climb the rigging.
- It was a buffet.

And I topped up
everybody's glasses.

If I'd put something in it,

you all would
have been affected.

I have a good mind
to ask for a refund.

She's going to be all right.

Right.

Let's say Marion did murder
her husband.

Could Connie have killed
Goodbody to protect her friend?

Possibly, but any one of them

could have killed him
to shut him up.

The question is,
what did he find?

Nothing, I suspect.

But as the game goes,
he was getting warmer.

Sister, how do you feel?

Well, I wouldn't recommend
the experience.

But it was certainly
mind-expanding.

Your mind doesn't need
any more expanding.

Thank you.

But in this case,
perhaps it did.

Where is it?

Oh, yes.

Behold... pirate treasure.

- Is she still hallucinating.
- I think she is.

No, no.
That's what I saw.

My subconscious was telling me
Goodbody was searching

for his missing tooth
in the fish pond.

Did someone fear
that he'd find more than gold?

- What are you doing?
- I dropped my wedding ring.

Well, stop that. You'll...
You'll disturb the fish.

It'll take more than that
to disturb them.

Like sharing a pond
with a skeleton.

What?

How long do you think
that's been there?

Five years, perhaps?

Are you saying
that's my brother?

Well, who else would it be?

Jonty!

He's been here all along!

There's a gash across the edge
of the rib bone there.

Do you see it?
It appears he was stabbed

with a large carving knife
or kitchen knife.

As you can see, the clothes
aren't fully decomposed.

So did you kill your husband,
Miss Grey?

I have nothing to say.

Are you protecting someone?

I said, I have nothing to say.

Okay.

I know some distressing things
have occurred here

in recent days,
and anyone wishing to leave

will be fully reimbursed,
but I do hope that you stay.

Activities at Pranayama
will continue as normal.

I only ask for some quiet time
to meditate

and to process the death
of my brother.

Thank you.

I reckon, if we pack now,

we could be in the pub
in just over an hour.

What are you talking about?

- We can't leave yet.
- Why the hell not?

Marion's clearly guilty.
You've got your scoop.

Have I? We still don't know
who drugged Sister or why.

Well, she seemed to enjoy it anyway.

All right, we'll stick around
for a little while longer,

for the sister's sake.

So you've decided to stay?

Me and Ben promised
to stick out.

Well, if things get
out of hand again,

you know where to find me.

For the sister's sake, my foot.

On second thoughts,
I am leaving.

Er...

Ruth!

You just can't help yourself,
can you?

What are you talking about?

They're trying to save
their marriage,

and you flirt with her?

I was not flirting.

I happen to be concerned
for her welfare.

Oh, well, your concern
for Miss Croydon 1961

is deeply touching.

Okay, fine.
So what if I was flirting?

I'm supposed to be your wife!

Well, let me remind you,
you're not actually my wife,

and I see no reason for you
to be jealous.

Jealous!
Don't flatter yourself.

I wouldn't marry you if you were
the last man on earth.

Really?
Then the feeling's mutual.

Oh, Sam.

Marion's still not cooperating.

And I don't believe that Connie
and Edwin didn't know anything,

but I can't prove
that they were involved, so...

In the Baron's death
or Goodbody's?

- Either.
- Hmm.

Speaking of Goodbody,
this just in.

An exact fit, also as expected.

Hello? What's that?

There's some kind of fibre
embedded in the plaster.

What is it?

With any luck, a smoking gun.

Sir?
I mean, Simon and Kate.

Hello? Erm, what...
What can we help you with?

- Sorry to interrupt.
- Interrupt?

No, er, we were just packing.

- Right you are.
- Anyway, focus.

I just discovered something

stuck between
Goodbody's teeth...

A single strand
of medical gauze.

It had high traces of LSD on it.

Ruth, remember that bloody
handkerchief?

Goodbody used it to stem the
bleeding after he got punched?

Oh, I tested that, too. It had
no trace of LSD on it at all,

which means he was subsequently
given some gauze

to bite down on, soaked in LSD.

So if we trace the gauze,
we find the killer.

Exactly. Unfortunately,
it's a commonly found product,

such as one would find
in any first aid kit.

Wait.
The first aid kit.

First you accuse me
of drugging a nun.

- Now the journalist.
- Did you?

No. Anyone could have
used that kit.

Just like anyone could have
dosed the sister's breakfast.

Actually, I've been
pondering that one myself.

How could someone
"slip me a mickey," as it were,

before our very eyes?

Explanation... our collective
eyes were closed in prayer

as you passed seamlessly
amongst us.

One or two drops from the bottle
hidden in your pocket,

and, hey, presto.

You can't prove I did that.

Then you won't mind
the sergeant searching you.

I suppose it would be foolish
not to dispose of the bottle.

But that apron's clearly
not a fresh one.

It most certainly is not.

Which means, if the bottle
was ever there,

there'd be a trace of LSD
in the lining.

A simple swab test in
my laboratory would settle it.

I will use it.

I swear.

I'll go, shall I?

That's it.
Give yourself over.

That's it. That's it.
Feel the prana into your lives.

That's it. Loosen up.
Well done. That's it.

Very good.
Dare to be free.

Get up!

What on earth are you doing?

Connie Dumas, I'm arresting you

for the murder
of Victor Goodbody.

You are not obliged
to say anything

unless you wish to do so,
but anything you say

may be put into writing
and given in evidence.

- You're a copper?
- Yeah, sorry about that.

D.I. Gillespie.

Felix?

Oh, Ruth Penny,
"Albion Bugle."

So you're not even married?

I drugged the sister because
she had the tooth from the pond.

I was afraid
she'd look under the rocks.

So you killed Goodbody
for the same reason.

I lured him into the woods
while the LSD took effect.

I told him that's where
the baron was buried.

- Did you kill the Baron, too?
- Yes.

Why?

Five years ago in London, he...

He tried to force himself on me.

Marion had left the house,

but she came back unexpectedly
and saw him.

So she hit him
with a fire poker, and we ran.

We came here... Great Slaughter.

Wait, he was still alive
when you left?

Yes, but, erm, a few days
later, he came looking for her.

Marion was out running errands,

and I wouldn't tell him
where she was.

He got really angry,
and he came at me.

So I stabbed him.

I was scared
that I'd hang for it.

Or worse,
that they'd blame Marion.

So I buried him,
and I never told anyone.

- Bodies are heavy, Miss Dumas.
- Mmm.

There would have been blood.

You expect us to believe that
you disposed of both of them

- by yourself?
- Yes.

I did.
Marion never knew a thing.

Neither did Edwin.

I took the car myself and
made it look like an accident.

And that's the truth.

You've got some nerve
coming back here.

You already printed your story.
What more do you want?

It's not the whole story,
though, is it?

I can believe Connie killed
and buried Goodbody,

but your husband?
You really didn't know?

I give you my word,
this will stay between us.

Why should I trust you?

Because, Marion, you went
through hell in your marriage.

And I wouldn't betray a woman
who's been through that.

Connie and I were both here
that day.

She stabbed him to save me.

Like you said, sometimes women
just have to stick together.

We watched him dying
on the kitchen floor.

We didn't help him.

I suppose that means
we both killed him.

I called Edwin and told him
what we'd done

and we were going to confess
to the police, but he said no.

He helped us
bury him under the rocks.

And then he took Jonty's car
and drove it into the Thames.

He covered up
his own brother's murder?

Edwin knew what kind of man
he was.

And he always loved me.
No, never like that.

You could say
we were kindred spirits.

All three of us are
after what we did.

And that's why Connie
confessed to it all.

It was her final gift to us.

I wish there was some way
to repay her.

But perhaps there are other ways
to give back.

Helping people love
each other again.

Like you and Simon.

It's Sam. No.

And we were just pretending.

If you say so.

To returning to civilisation.

I'll drink to that.

It wasn't all bad.

We made a good team,
don't you think?

I do.

In fact...

perhaps it wouldn't be the worst
thing if we teamed up again.

Not at work.
I mean...

you and I.

Sam, I've been offered a job
at "The Times."

They were impressed
by my article,

and they want me
to replace Goodbody.

Wow. That's...

What did you say?

I told them I'd need
to think about it.

What do you think I should do?

When have you ever needed
someone to tell you what to do?

This is what
you've always dreamed of.

But it's just a job.

I mean, and I'm happy here...

with you.

But how long will that last for?

- If you pass this up...
- Well, you could come with me.

Can you really see me
at the Met?

Too much like hard work.

Besides, what would the sister
do without me?

Congratulations, Ruth.

Your father would be
proud of you.

As am I.

Great Slaughter won't be
the same without you.

But sail forth you must...

to valiant adventures.

Promise you'll come back
and visit.

I promise.

Are you sure there's no room
for me in there?

You can drop me off
at Scotland Yard.

Darling Felix,
you're needed here.

Well...

goodbye.

I'll miss you all.

Dazzle them, Ruth.
Just like you dazzle me.

I'm sorry, Sam.

While it's a positively spiffing
day for women's liberation,

it's a sad day indeed for love.

Love? Who said anything
about that?

It's probably for the best.

No ties.

- Ready to play the field.
- Mmm.

Plenty more fish in the sea.

Or mermaids.

Mermaids?

Oh, sorry.
Never mind.