All language subtitles for Sister.Boniface.Mysteries.S02E03

Recently crowned
"face of the '60s,"

Birdie shot to stardom
a mind-boggling 18 months ago.

She really has captured
the spirit of the age,

recently launching her
very own fashion label.

Every girl wants to be her.

Men can't take
their eyes off her.

But what everyone
really wants to know is...

Who is Birdie?

Well, you've become
what's known as a trendsetter.

Sales of your inaugural range

have been flying out
of the shops.

Is it true you design
all the pieces yourself?

Well...

Every one.

Got her finger
on the pulse, she has.

Max Savage... Birdie's manager.

And what light can you shed

on Britain's
first fashion superstar?

Oh, I'll tell you everything...

but at a press conference,
far away from swinging London.

You see, Birdie is about
to return to her nest.

- Where is she going?
- Tell us more.

I'm sorry.

I told you before.

It'll do you good to get back
to your roots.

See how far you've come.

Max, I can't do this.

What?

Y-You don't even consult me
anymore.

Birdie, it's my job
to make decisions for you.

These clothes
aren't remotely me.

I-I'd never come up with them.

But just saying you did
makes them desirable.

You are the face,
the supposed brains,

and the figure.

We need to monetise that,
make hay while the sun shines.

Have you even looked
at my designs?

'Course.

No offense, but you're
just a pretty face.

I need to express myself.

Look, be a good girl,

shut your cake hole,

and do what you do best...

Looking gorgeous.

Unless you want me to leave you
in "Great Slumber"

or whatever it's called.

Please don't make me
go back there.

We don't want this kind
of thing here, do we, Dottie?

It's an embarrassment.

And imagine finding out
your daughter's

coming home like this!

Who's coming home?

Shirl's lass.

My little Birdie
is so busy these days.

I mean, who can blame her
for forgetting her old mother?

One dreads to think
what she might be wearing...

Or not wearing, for that matter.

Whatever she's wearing, Vera,
I can't be more proud.

I must say,
this is jolly exciting.

To see Birdie fly home,
so to speak.

I have absolutely no idea
who that is.

Oh, Sarge, she's only
the most famous,

not to mention the most
beautiful woman in the country.

And I sat next to her in maths!

And we are here because...?

Crowd control.

Crowd control.

Exactly.

She's here.
She's actually here!

Look at them.

The clothes, the hair.

You literally saved her life.

I knew you'd hate it here.

Let's go back to Chelsea.

Nonsense.

Take a look at your home
for the next few days, eh?

Gone up in the world, ain't you?

It's literal rags to riches.

Moribund to modern.

The world needs to see that
you came from this place.

Makes my creation
all the more remarkable.

Hey, I've got your back, okay?

All you need to do
is look sensational.

Alright.

Let's get this over with.

Clever girl.

It's worse than I thought,
Dottie.

A walking obscenity!

She's naked as the day
she was born!

Hello, love.

It's good to see
so many friendly faces.

I know you'll all be wondering
why Birdie's returned,

but keep it
under your hats, will you?

I don't want the nationals here,
least not till Friday,

when I shall reveal
documentary maker Verity Martin

is examining Great Slaughter's
role in this phenomenon.

Soon, this place
will be firmly on the map.

What if we don't want
to be "on the map?"

But don't you want
to be part of it?

Be interviewed, get your moment
in the spotlight.

What if I ain't got
nothing nice to say?

You can say
whatever you like, Tom.

Any questions?

What on Earth is Birdie?

Miss Thimble, it's me.

Would you like
to come to tea, love?

5:00?

And you are?

Mrs Shirley Turner.

Robin's mother.

She'd love to.

Thank you, everyone.

Interviewees, if you'd like
to follow Moses here,

he will make you, um...

camera-ready.

Right this way.
Follow me.

Are you gonna tell me

why you're actively
inviting criticism?

- Sweet cheeks...
- Don't call me sweet cheeks.

Poppet...

What do you think
showing a streak

of outraged old biddies will do?

I suppose make her more
attractive to the youth market.

Clever girl.

Now go get set up.

Oh, and poppet?

Bit of lippy wouldn't hurt.

That's not part of my job,
Mr Savage.

It is now.

Right then, how about we start
with the real star of this show?

I discovered her at a party.

She had a commercial face.

It inspired me to create
her break-out look.

And now the world
and his wife knows

how pulchritudinal she was.

I think you'll find
it's "pulchritudinous."

Stop interrupting me!

Then stop making up words!

I need a break.

Perhaps, if the camera's
still rolling,

I could say a few words?

Moses, cigar, now!

Yes, Mr Savage.

Anything you say, Mr Savage.

I just wanted to say,
if things get too crazy

and you need to be
escorted anywhere,

I'm your WPC.

Oh, Peggy!

It's so good to see
a friendly face.

Congratulations on the uniform.

Thanks. It's nothing compared
to what you've done.

I still can't believe
we used to be friends.

We still are.

You will be interviewed,
won't you?

Oh, no.

- No.
- Think of the exposure.

Millions will see it, worldwide.

Who knows? It could even
open doors for you.

What kind of doors?

Mr Savage!

The dribblers are ready.

This is not Carnaby Street.

This is Great Slaughter,

where we wear clothes
which are all-encompassing.

Anything else
is moral turpitude.

Weren't you young once?

I beg your pardon!

I must say, this is
all jolly exciting.

Do you have any perspectives
on Birdie to share?

No.
Not especially.

Although I do love a camera.

Hello there.

Cut!

What she's done is incredible.

It just shows you,
anyone can do anything.

I mean, she's been
all 'round the world.

And what about you?

Me?

Just to Weston-super-Mare
on the Button annual holiday.

Sounds like you've got
some living to do.

Don't go tryna make us look
like a country buncha condents!

Next!

I've bin to London 'ere, next
to the escalator.

Yes, alright, alright,
alright. Yes, thank you.

Birdie's look?

Well, actually, it was me who...

Time to wheel in the next
dribbler, if you don't mind.

But what kind of bird?

I have the most marvellous
repertoire of bird calls,

such as the green-winged macaw.

Cut!

This whole thing has been
a car crash!

No.

It was perfect.

Ha!

Her schedule must be jam-packed.

Clearly.

When was the last time
you saw her, Mrs Turner?

Two years ago, when she left.

Back when she was
just plain old Robin.

She couldn't even show her face

at her own
step-father's funeral.

Robin never accepted Harold.

She was a daddy's girl.

Could you ever have
imagined that Robin

was gonna become famous?

No, never.

But her father, Andrew...

God rest his soul.

Always thought she was
gonna do great things.

He never doubted her, not once.

Where can she be?

Shirley, dear, perhaps...

She's not coming, is she?

What's wrong with your face?

Nothing.

"Nothing." Out with it.

I need recognition.

My designs are literally
everywhere.

I pay you extra for those.

And you have my gratitude.

Your gratitude?

The world needs to know
that I am an artist.

Where've you been?

Collecting last week's footage
from the lab.

I'll give dinner a miss.

Why don't we watch
that together?

No thanks, poppet.

Moses is right.

This isn't fair on either of us.

The new range has been
a massive success.

And there won't be another
unless I'm genuinely behind it.

I-I don't care about the money.

Well, I do.

So I see.

You've been spending
ever such a lot lately.

You are giving me a splitting
headache, you know that?!

I'm gonna have a bath.

We'll speak in the morning.

What's going on?

He never sleeps this late.

And his door's locked.

But...

thankfully I'm more than
a pretty face.

Really?

Et voila.

Alright, Sister, out with it.

Well, I believe
there was an altercation.

So, the late Mr Savage was...

here,

and our attacker was here.

And you know this because...?

All contact leaves a trace,

thus when Mr Savage
struck our attacker,

it resulted in this stain
on the wall here.

The sticky, sinewy
appearance indicates

that the viscosity of the blood
was increased by saliva.

Ergo it came from
the attacker's mouth.

Right.

Well, then, in retaliation,
our attacker pushes Mr Savage,

who falls backwards, hitting
his head on the chest of drawers

then falling to
the floor face-first.

And then our attacker
disappears in a puff of smoke?

The doors and the windows were
all locked from the inside.

And it can't be the fireplace.

Too messy.
And too small for an escape.

A secret passage, perhaps?

Well, we need to find out
what it is

before the press descends on us.

Agreed.

We can identify our attacker's
blood type from this.

And if all of them
have distinct blood types,

then Bob's your uncle
and Fanny's your aunt.

Murder?!

You can't think one of us
did it?

He meant everything to me.

Everything!

We'll need statements
from you all.

Yes, and, um, blood samples.

I hope you don't mind
a little prick.

This is terrible news.

Terrible.

But it is a splendid twist
for the documentary.

Excuse me?

Would anyone mind
if I started filming right now?

This is a real-life
murder investigation,

not entertainment.

I must ask you to keep this
under wraps for now

and to stay in this room
while the house is searched.

One of you three
must be responsible,

so remain vigilant at all times.

Actually, there was
someone else here last night.

Someone who would definitely
want to kill Mr Savage.

Would you like to reveal who?

But...

I only just saw him last night.

Can you tell us
what happened, Mrs Turner?

I just want to see my
daughter, please.

If you must.

I'll handle this.

Don't you get it?

She doesn't want to see you.

Please.

Just let me in.

Alright.

How much?

No!

That's not why I'm here.

Do me a favour, will you?

Don't contact her again.

You're an embarrassment.

I understand you used to
clean Slaughter Manor.

You could have easily
got inside.

And right now, you have the most
compelling motive for murder.

Before I left, I saw Robin
looking down at me.

She closed her curtains.

So as much as I disliked
that man,

it was her choice
not to speak to me.

Right.

Well, um, would you mind
if I took a blood sample

to eliminate you
from our enquiries?

Of course.

Any road, afterwards, I went
to Miss Thimble's

for a few rounds of Gin Rummy.

Miss Thimble confirms

that she was with Mrs Turner
last night,

but, you know,
as if that counts for anything.

Any joy with un-picking
the locked room?

Oh, that's very good.

Uh, no.

A rational explanation
continues to elude me.

However, Peggy has discovered
an item of interest

in the documentary maker's room.

A film roll, sir.

Looks like someone tried
to destroy it.

With our victim's
fingerprints all over it.

Well, we need to see
what's on it.

Yes, well, I've already
taken the liberty

of isolating a few frames.

Lights, please, maestro.

It looks like they're
unaware they're being filmed.

Which begs the question,

just what kind of documentary
is Miss Martin actually making?

We can't let this knock us
off schedule.

I'll need your mother on camera.
Can you set that up?

The documentary is over.

Excuse me?

We're finished.

Oh, no, darling.

We're just getting started.

I mean, I could run
your whole operation.

Moses, you're a designer.

Mr Savage taught me everything
over these last 18 months.

I know exactly what to do.

What you need, right now,
is continuity.

Would you support my designs?

Naturellement.

Right.

Well, in that case...

Then that's settled.

Time to get this show
back on the road.

Of course I'm devastated.

We all are.

But I know that Max is looking
down on us right now,

willing us to continue.

He'd want Birdie to live on.

It was his passion project.

When exactly did he discover
your talents as a designer?

Miss Martin, can I have a word?

Fire away.

Or would you rather speak
down at the station?

Spoilsport.

Very well, Inspector.

Are you alright?

I think so.

Poor Max.

We've decided
to soldier on without him.

May he rest in peace.

Actually, I'm glad you're here.

Are you?

There's been a shake-up
in my team.

I need an assistant of sorts.

Someone I can trust.

Why are you telling me?

Oh, darling, isn't it obvious?

Mr Savage found out you
had your own agenda,

which is what?

To expose the truth.

You really expect people
to believe I came up with this?!

As long as you smile
and say so, they'll buy it!

I'll feel like a fraud!

Is that what you want?

- Pick that up!
- I knew it!

How dare you!

- I told you, no filming...
- No!

- Without my say so!
- No!

I knew you were a snake
in the grass.

- Who are you working for?
- Myself.

This Birdie nonsense
makes a mockery of everything.

She doesn't deserve
all the attention.

This notion of celebrity...
it's meaningless.

Young girls all over the
country are lapping it up.

Wearing her threads.

She's not a designer,
she's your puppet.

When my film comes out,

her credibility will
go up in smoke.

You know what I think?

You're jealous.

Of her money, her visage.

Most women have to fight
for success,

but she gets rich
because of the way she looks,

even though
she's utterly talentless?

Camera loves her.

And believe me,
it hates you, poppet.

You're a dog's dinner.

And you are a pea-brained,
misogynist arse!

I want you gone before I wake.

And if you try to put any of
this so-called documentary out,

I'll see you in court!

So you killed him
to save your own skin?

Max Savage's death was
nothing more than fortuitous.

I can continue to show her
for what she is.

Birdie isn't real.
She's just a front.

All the groovy kids
have been taken in.

And will that satisfy you?

Ruining a young girl's life?

People deserve
to know the truth.

So yes, he sacked me.

But I'd hardly kill
to cover that up.

It's not worth my liberty.

If Mr Savage really was
pulling her strings,

what happens now?

Fortunately, Moses was
waiting in the wings.

He's done rather well out of
all of this, don't you think?

Oh, my.

The chance of lifetime,
she said.

And who knows what
other doors it could open?

Well, what kind of doors?

When the world sees me,
styled by a professional,

my life could change forever,

just like Robin's.

Well, it would be a shame
to lose you, Peggy.

You are something
of a rising star.

It doesn't feel that way to me.

My life is...

so dull compared to Robin's.

Theodore Roosevelt said that

"comparison is
the thief of joy."

Were you not happy
before Robin returned?

Not a peep about
Savage's death in the press.

Yet another benefit
of Ruth's departure.

What have you got for me,
Sister?

Anything on the blood?

Our Lord has answered your
call with serendipitous timing, Sam.

Out of all of the samples taken,
there was only one match.

Let me guess.

Moses Valentino.

Negative.

Oh, my giddy aunt.

I'm so sorry, Peggy.

What?

Why didn't you
say anything before?

I-I knew it would look bad.

Obviously, you didn't kill him.

- Button.
- Sorry, sir.

What were you doing in his room
in the first place?

I knew he was having a bath.

So I took the chance
to get some clarity.

What do you think you're doing?

You've been ripping me off.

Wrong end of the stick, Birdie.

As usual.

Oh, you pay me
to have my own range.

10 percent of what you get.

It should be
the other way around.

When are you going to realise?

I am the organ grinder,
you are the monkey!

No. I am the one
they want to photograph.

You are replaceable.

You think it's that easy?

Your contract is fully binding.

I own Birdie.

We'll see about that.

I'd only ever think about
releasing you if, uh...

Yes?

If you stop being so...

frigid.

Get off me!

You're nothing but...
but a parasite!

Oh, that's awful.

And that's when you
pushed him in anger?

I didn't touch him.

We only have your word for that.

When I left the room,
he was fine.

Moses can vouch for that.

Mr Valentino?

He knocked on the door,

with one of Max's
disgusting cigars.

A cigar?

Have you made your mind up?

No, not yet.

What will Dad think?

Is that any reason
to hold you back?

Leaving this place
was the best thing I ever did.

Must have been hard seeing
your mum with someone else.

Is that what she said?

That's not why I left.

Then why did you?

Hello, my love.

Everything alright?

I thought you might need
some support.

I see.

Please, I just want to talk.

Come to the house at 4:00.

Thank you.

My little bird.

You're one of the best,
Peggy Button.

I've always said so.

Fish bums!

Just as I thought.
And I was very thorough.

Close, but no cigar.

Yes.

Very good.

Then I suppose it disappeared
into thin air, too?

Unless Birdie was lying.

Or...

it went up in flames.

Bingo!

Good man!

So perhaps the reason why
the room was locked

is because I have
the killer right here.

You believe the cigar
was poisoned?

Quite possibly.

And thanks to Birdie, we know
exactly who gave it to him.

Yeah.

Yes, I took him a cigar, from
the box in the drawing room.

Because?

I wanted an excuse
to talk to him.

What about?

To see if I could convince him
to let me be in the documentary.

To get the recognition
I deserve.

And what did he say?

He agreed, of course.

Said my contribution
had to be acknowledged.

I think that's a lie.

My WPC observed Mr Savage
cruelly rebuff you

when you asked to be
in the documentary.

What can I say?

He changed his mind.

I understand that you've
taken over as, uh,

Birdie's management?

Yes.

You've done very well from
Mr Savage's death, haven't you?

A lucky byproduct
of his unfortunate demise.

I think you despised him.

That's why you poisoned the
cigar before you took it to him.

If it was poisoned, it had
nothing to do with me.

Can you prove otherwise?

Trust me.

We have our ways.

Well, then, until you have
any actual evidence,

I think you'd better
let me go, don't you?

Hello.

I'm here to see
my daughter, please.

Of course.
Robin will be right down.

After your interview.

- What?
- I'll be quick. Come along.

I have a huge scrapbook.

Every article, picture.

Everyone in Great Slaughter
keeps them for me.

She's my greatest achievement,
you see.

Makes my life worthwhile.

Were you a good mother?

Most of the time.

I think our audience
will want to understand

why the two of you
are estranged.

We're not.

Not anymore.

Come here.

We've let bygones be bygones.

That's all I ever wanted.

And cut.

You can go now.

What? Robin.

There is no Robin.

Only Birdie.

We're done here.

Oh, dear.

If needs be, we can
audition an actress

for the role of your mother.

Someone who fits more
with your aesthetic.

I don't really want to do that.

It's fine.
We got what we need.

Fair enough.

I thought you could sign
your contract

in front of the press tomorrow.

Make an event of it, hmm?

Why not?

As long as I can read it first.

Of course.

Oh, and that dress you
left out... it's not really me.

I'm going to wear one of mine.

You designed that?

Yes. D-Do you like it?

It's...

It's nice.
It's impressive.

For a beginner.

But with the eyes of the world
on you,

you need to be cutting-edge,
don't you?

Wouldn't you agree?

Uh, for a press conference, yes.

I suppose you know best.

Clever girl.

I must confess.

This cigar has left me
somewhat stumped.

Very good, Sister.

Now, it says here, Robin's
signing with her new manager

in front of the world's
press at midday.

Oh, crumbs.

Then it would be helpful
for your friend

if we can prove Mr Valentino
poisoned the cigar

before she puts pen to paper.

But with what?

Certainly strong alkal...

Hang on, could that be...?

Oh, I think it is.

- What is it?
- Bleach.

Now I know where to look.

Do ya?

Oh, I most certainly do,
dear Peggy.

This is the same contract
I had with Max.

All you've done
is change his name.

Darling, you know we're a team.

The contract is only
a formality.

It's just the way
things are done.

Well, I can't bring myself
to sign it.

Then I suppose...

you'll have to find someone else
with the vision

to take you into the stars.

Best of luck, Birdie.

Wait.

I-If that's the way it is...

As long as I'm listened to.

Absolument, darling.

It's time to get my gladrags on.

Are you quite sure about this?

I don't have a choice.

Now, there's something
you don't see every day.

Oh, yes.

Yes, this is the one.

How do you know?

Fascinating.

It's been punctured.

But with what?

Perhaps with these?

Oh, dear.

And it looks as though
our culprit did the same.

And left something behind.

Right, if I can establish
the blood type,

I should be able
to identify them.

But that'll be too late
for the press conference.

What's through there?

Um, Mr Savage's room, I believe.

So that means that whoever
was in here...

could hear Robin and Mr Savage.

Oh, no.

Hear what?

I think I might know
why it happened.

Why?

Atonement.

Peggy?

Oh, hello.

I'm not really up
for visitors today.

Can you come back another time?

What am I looking at?

Did you hurt yourself?

I pricked it when
I reached up for a syringe

in the store cupboard
at the Manor.

Just like you did.

You've lost me, love.

We found a drop of blood
on the floor.

If I test it, will I find that
it's AB negative?

Your blood type, Mrs Turner,
which is exceptionally rare.

Lord forgive me.

How did you get
inside the house?

I knew about the key under the
pot from when I cleaned there.

I just had to see her.

Birdie?

Birdie, where are you?

Is that where you heard
the argument?

I own Birdie.

I'd only ever think
about releasing you if...

- Yes?
- If you stop being so...

frigid.

Get off me!

You're nothing but a parasite!

All I could think about
was protecting my little bird.

I owed her that.

Because...

you... you failed to protect
her before?

I noticed there were no pictures
of your second husband here.

It was more than Robin
not accepting him, wasn't it?

Did she leave because
he hurt her?

I didn't believe her.

Well, I couldn't.

But when Harold's heart gave up

and he lay right there
on the floor, he confessed.

What happened next?

I didn't mean to kill him,
I swear.

The cigar wouldn't have
killed him in itself.

Hopefully, you're looking
at manslaughter at best.

I'm sorry, Mrs Turner.

I'm arresting you for the murder
of Max Savage.

You are not obliged
to say anything

unless you wish to do so,

and anything you say
may be put in writing

and given in evidence.

That's alright, love.

You're only doing your job.

I know.

Now I need to make a detour
on the way to the station.

To honour Max's memory,

we will proceed with his
original plan...

a US tour,

a feature-film documentary,

a second Birdie clothes range
designed by me,

Moses Valentino,
Birdie's new manager

and creator of her original,
iconic look.

If you would do the honours,
darling.

S'cuse me, s'cuse me.

Birdie, I believe you were
in the middle of something.

Sorry, everyone.

Two ticks.

I can't thank you enough.

Why did you do it?

Well, I had a second chance
to protect you.

What I should have done
in the first place.

Because you took his word
over mine, I thought...

What?

That you didn't love me.

No!

I could have never not love you.

It was just, I couldn't
bear the thought

of what was happening.

I'll never forgive myself.

I want you to.

How can I?

Because I do.

I really do.

I'm so proud of you.

Your father would be, too.

Now you're free of that man,

you can do things
on your own terms.

That's not the way
things are done.

Says who?

Look at everything
you've achieved.

You, my little bird.

You're the bravest girl
I ever met.

I have to go.

I'll come see you, I promise.

Peggy.

With me.

What the hell do you think
you're playing at?

I'm going to manage myself.

Have you gone loop-de-loop?

Perhaps.

Only time will tell.

Then what about me?

You're a brilliant designer,
Moses.

We can collaborate.

But final decisions are mine.

Understood?

I'll have to think about it.

I'm impressed.

Thank you.

Robin, I'm afraid to say

I haven't always had
your best interests at heart.

Right.

I find the whole Birdie thing
an inauthentic farce.

Well...

I couldn't agree more.

How about we start
the whole documentary again

and keep it real this time?

I'd love to.

Peggy, I believe you have
some packing to do?

Thank you, but I'm gonna stay.

Your world... it's...

it's my escape, not my reality.

But I really love reading
about it.

Come here.

Also, I think I'm quite
good at my job.

Of course you are.

Now, I have to get
out of this dress.

Then I have a confession
to make.

So I'm ashamed to admit

that I didn't design
my range after all.

None of it was really "me."

- Birdie?
- Yes?

Leonard Foxby, BBC.

How do you expect your fans
will feel about this?

Betrayed, probably.

So how can you ever regain
their trust?

Because now I want to show
everyone who I really am.

It's time for Birdie
to fly away.

Well if you're no longer Birdie,

then who exactly are you?

Who I always was, underneath.

Robin.

Robin Carter.

Daughter of Shirley

and friend of the finest WPC
in the county,

Peggy Button.

- Good work, Button!
- Well done, Peggy!

Well done!