All language subtitles for Agatha.Christies.Marple.S03E04.Nemesis.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-BurCyg_track3_[eng]

[birds sing]

[engine roars]

[speaking in German]

[engine roars]

[exploding]

[intense violin music]

[speaking in German]

Am I in heaven?

[soaring emotional music]

[dramatic music]

[soaring emotional music]

[bells toll]

[mournful violin music]

[intense ominous violin music]

Miss Marple?

[Jane] Yes?

I'm Mr Broadribb.

You're not terrifying after all.

Should I be?

Mr. Rafiel called you Nemesis.

The bequest is modest.

A gramophone?

It's very thoughtful of Jason, but...

Oh no.

Mr Rafiel left you 500 pounds.

Oh.

But there is apparently
a condition attached,

which he wanted to tell you himself.

[Jason] Jane, I wish you to
investigate a possible crime

and write a dreadful wrong.

The pieces of the puzzle
I have myself assembled,

but it will be for you to fit
them together into a complete,

and I suspect, most terrible picture.

Then, my dear, I imagine you're returning

to your beautiful roses, carefully, again.

But first, you must once more become

that goddess of retribution
and righteous anger.

Once more be Nemesis.

Let justice roll down like waters

and righteousness like
an everlasting stream.

And there was this.

Two tickets to mystery coach tour.

Take a trusted companion of
your choosing to support you

if danger threatens, which it may.

Choice is yours.

I know the deadline looms.

That's what deadlines are
for, to loom and scare.

But until a muse descends...

You're my agent. Margery.

Just tell the publishers

the new Raymond West will be sensational.

[phone rings]

Hold, please, Margery.

Raymond West.

Oh, Sophia.

Avril?

No, I haven't seen Avril for...

Hold, please, Sophia.

Avril, I didn't mean it.

You have a perfect...

Margery, I'm writing a
novel, not baking a cake.

How do I know how long it's...

Tuesday week?

I tell them, what the hell you like?

Sophia, hello?

[doorbell rings]

Ah, Avril, I knew you'd be back.

I knew you'd be back.

Aunt Jane.

I tried to telephone, but
the line's always engaged.

How wonderfully lovely to see you.

My favourite aunt.

Your only aunt, Raymond.

Something the matter?

I've had a strange request.

Fascinating.

[crows caw]

What kind of man was Jason Rafiel?

He was German, but left in 1933

when the Nazis burned his books.

He wrote about justice.

I admired him more than I can say,

and he'd have done anything for me.

What does he mean by a possible crime?

Something that happened

that may or may not have been a crime?

Or a crime that hasn't happened
yet, but possibly will.

[haunting ominous music]

Daffodil Tours.

"Find where truth lies and
you will find the truth."

I could do with a holiday.

Avril and Sophia can wait.

[happy violin music]

I like a girl in uniform.

[Georgina] Just wait in
the barn for a moment.

Beauty and the beast.

Sydney and Margaret Lumley.

Morning.

Good morning.

[Georgina] Sir, good morning.

Either Michael Faber or Laurence Raeburn.

They're the only single travellers.

He looks like an off-duty undertaker.

Could be handy if someone's murdered.

Good morning.

Morning.

Good morning

[soft ominous piano music]

[Georgina] Welcome to Daffodil Tours.

- [Derek] Morning.
- [Amanda] Morning.

Amanda Dalrymple and friend.

I hope he knows what he's
letting himself in for.

Why, is she another of your-

Certainly not.

Perish the thought.

[Amanda] Ray!

[speaks in French]

Oui, isn't it?

You've brought your dinky typewriter.

Are your fingers tip, tip,
tapping with a new novel?

They never, never stop.

Meet my aunt, Miss Jane Marple.

The honourable Amanda Dalrymple.

What a curiously charming hat.

Raymond's treating me to a little break.

And...

Oh, my solicitor and general thing.

Derek Turnbull.

Sit.

What fun, eh?

Yes.

Raeburn?

Even the lower orders
need a holiday sometime.

Evidently.

[Georgina] Just wait inside.

Poor chap.

Tank regiment from his tie.

Captain Martin Waddy and his wife Rowena.

Don't fuss, it's fine.

[Georgina] Good morning, sisters.

Welcome.

Thank you.

Something about nuns, don't you think?

That scratchy black.

Oh.

Mother Superior Agnes Carson

and Sister Clotilde Merryweather.

What a merry little band we are.

[Georgina] We're just waiting
for our last passenger.

Sorry for the delay.

Don't mention it.

Why, thank you.

I'm Georgina Barrow.
your guide and driver.

We nearly left without you.

But you did not.

Good.

Yes, good.

Thank you.

Guten Morgen.

Michael Faber.

He's a bloody German.

I beg your pardon?

Oh, nothing.

I was just wondering.

This your first time over here?

Second.

I was in the Luftwaffe.

I'm sure you're most welcome, Mr Faber.

Thank you, sister.

Old sins cast long shadows.

[soft ominous music]

Do you get the impression
everybody knows everybody?

What would I do without you?

Ladies and gentlemen.

On behalf of Daffodil, welcome
to our little mystery tour.

[dramatic music]

And it's off we go.

[Jason] Let justice roll down like waters,

and righteousness like
an everlasting stream.

[engine roars]

I expect that's the map
that he used to bomb us.

The war's over.

May I, Mr Raeburn?

Oh, please.

I prefer a coach to a train, don't you?

Yes.

The straight line's all very well,

but twists and turns are
so much more absorbing.

What brings you on the tour?

I was kindly send a ticket by a gentlemen

who remembered me from a house party,

but I can't recall him.

As one gets older-

Amos Flaire.

Flaire.

How unusual.

With an E.

I don't know why I can't remember him.

Daffodil Tours asked me long to get them

a mention in Tatlen.

What's Bearitz done to
deserve your absence?

Too many other expenses.

Who asked you?

Do you know Miss Dalrymple?

I was in service to her
uncle as his butler.

Isn't that odd?

Isn't it?

Look, Martin, don't feel like
you have to do everything.

It's a holiday.

I'm not an invalid.

[soft sombre music]

Sister?

Sorry.

Have you been to Dorking?

Not to my knowledge.

Oh.

Are there many nuns in Dorking?

No, no.

You must just have one of those faces.

Ladies and gentlemen, our first stop

is the historic Forrester Grange,

ancestral home of the Forrester family.

Is something the matter?

It's where I was in
service to Lord Forrester.

[dramatic music]

This splendid basilica recalls
the glory of ancient Rome

in the heart of England.

Notice the Guild of God's looking
down on us lesser mortals,

as we make our way through the
riot of coloured marble and

on into the ballroom.

[dramatic violin music]

The ninth Lord Forrester was renowned

for his extravagant balls,

attracting the creme
de la creme of society.

The Prince of Wales is said
to have danced the fandango

here in 1814.

It's lovely, isn't it?

Moving on.

And there's Lord Forrester
with his family in 1772,

attributed to Thomas Gainsborough,
but who really knows?

The wall hangings are of crimson silk

by the Huguenot Weavers of Spitalfields.

Moving on.

136 feet in length.

The long gallery was designed to afford

variety and amusement for
those ladies retreating

from the unseemly revelry of
gentlemen still at dinner.

Next, the print room.

The original wood panelling
was replaced in 1767

with the delicate glasswork you now see.

[soft piano music]

Are you unwell?

Unsettled.

Memories.

Yes.

Why have we come here, of all places?

It is a coincidence, isn't it?

Another one.

First, Miss Dalrymple,
and now Forrester Grange.

Is Lord Forrester is still in residence?

No, he's in a nursing home.

Not long for this world, so I hear.

His children will have
quite a responsibility.

Lord Forester is childless.

His niece, Miss Dalrymple,
will inherit the estate.

Not that she deserves to.

It could just be a
coincidence that we're here.

[Amanda] Oh, shut up.

Please don't get hysterical.

Don't take any more of those.

They're benzedrex, not dolly mixtures.

[Jane] The good Samaritan.

Yes.

Of all the parables,
isn't loving thine enemy

Christ's most important teaching?

That reminds me.

Do you have a bible?

[Amanda] Out, out, out, out.

Out, out, out, out.

Out, out, out, out, out, out, out!

This tour is over.

Fini.

Back to the charabanc.

This house is mine, or it soon will be,

and it's no longer open to visitors.

Go on, off with you!

Shoo!

Sling your hooks!

Vamoose!

Who the hell put that there?

Why are you all persecuting me?

[glass shatters]

Teeny accident.

I'll fetch staff.

[sombre piano music]

Who is it?

[Jane] I'm not sure.

Aren't coach parties meant
to be sedate affairs?

This is more like Tosca, I'm glad to say.

[ominous music]

[upbeat dramatic music]

Chapter five, verse 24.

"Let justice roll down like waters."

The book of Amos.

Raeburn says he was given
his ticket by an Amos Flaire,

which is an anagram of Rafiel.

Jason always liked to tease me,

and he always got people
to do what he wanted.

Where does Faber fit in?

Who?

Oh, Michael Faber.

Yes, I wonder.

Driving on into the heart of England,

we'll be seeing Boskey
Groves and luscious pasture

before arriving at Medhurst,

a typically charming village,

nestling below the
picturesque Bonaventure Rocks.

We'll be staying in the Flying Horse,

well known for its excellent cuisine.

I'm sure they'll do you
a sandwich in your room

while you work on your novel.

Very nice.

Excuse me.

You're Raymond West.

I know.

Colin Hards.

Hello.

How's the new one coming along?

Pretty well, pretty well.

Well, I do hope yours
isn't a silent order,

otherwise conversation
would be terribly one sided.

I know a joke about two nuns.

Would you pass the pepper?

And what tempted you from Shady Cloisters

on this little jaunt?

An anonymous benefactor
sent us the tickets.

Some grateful soul we must have helped

along life's thorny path.

I've read your books.

How kind, Colin.

I reckon I've got a book in me.

You must let it out, then.

She's always going in
for things like this.

If it's not crosswords,
it's Spot the Ball,

and if it's not Spot the
Ball, it's Comic Captions.

First time I won anything, these tickets.

Can't really even remember entering.

Well, Rowena, she deserved a holiday.

It's the first we've managed-

First we've managed since the war.

It was all the operations.

Yeah.

I was all 'bout blind when Army Welfare-

When Army Welfare brought him home,

and then the woman said
it would be a long battle,

but he's good as new.

Except I can't dance, for some reason.

I know.

He's lost all his sense of rhythm.

And we used to love to foxtrot.

I don't suppose if I
showed you my jottings...

Busy, busy, busy, I'm afraid.

Ah, success, Lairs.

Bubbly?

Oh, thanks, but I'd much
prefer to keep a clear head.

I'd much prefer you out of your uniform.

Thanks, Lairs.

Champagne.

Oh, thank God.

Saving your presence, girl.

Isn't she lovely, eh?

Oh, yes.

Lucky chap.

Do you drink?

No, thank you.

A thimbleful will do no harm.

Thank you, darling.

I'm desperate.

Where's Mr Faber?

He wasn't hungry.

Long life.

[Raymond] Long life.

[Everyone] Cheers!

It's nice, isn't it, Martin?

Yeah, it's nice.

Cheers.

[ominous music]

It wouldn't seem fair if you missed out.

My nephew can be so extravagant,

and even though you can afford it-

Thank you.

No.

In case you changed your mind.

It's never too late.

I learned that from a
man called Jason Rafiel.

What sort of a man was that?

[Jane] Was?

Is.

My English.

Your English is excellent.

He was a dear old friend
with a son called Michael

who stayed in Germany when
Jason was forced to leave.

The boy came back for holidays, of course.

The war put a stop to that.

What did your friend say about this son?

That he wanted to be a
pilot when he grew up,

and that he had frighteningly
intelligent eyes.

I am Michael Rafiel.

I'm so sorry.

My ticket was with his final letter.

He said perhaps it could
make things correct.

Things?

But too late.

You should choose better friends, I think.

Excuse me.

[soft creepy music]

[dramatic ominous music]

[cheerful jazzy music]

[sighing]

Ray, I'm bored.

Tell me a bedtime story.

I'm trying to work.

Don't be so mean.

= Very well.

Once upon a time.

Oh, good.

Once upon a time,

there was a sophisticated
woman who lacked one thing.

The ability to take no for an answer.

You used to say yes.

That was then.

You never understood my
artistic temperament.

Old time's sake.

Oh, sorry.

Don't go.

Miss Dalrymple was just looking

for something that she'd lost.

Quite, but it's no longer here.

Ah, I meant to ask you
about your lovely dress.

A long cherished favourite, clearly.

Amanda.

What, darling?

[yelling]

[fast paced dramatic music]

Mr Raeburn?

What's happened?

[Derek] I think he fainted
and fell downstairs.

Okay.

Verity?

I'm not Verity, I'm Margaret.

You, bed.

We should get a doctor.

[Laurence] Oh no, I've got
some heart mixture in my room.

We don't want the tour disrupted, Raeburn.

Jason's note.

"Find where truth lies."

Truth with a capital T.

So?

Oh, Raymond, you're a writer.

Yes.

Well, what's another word for truth?

Verity.

Margaret Lumley thought
Raeburn was calling her Verity.

Perhaps she's the girl in the photo

that had such a dramatic effect on Amanda.

[Amanda] Why are you all persecuting me?

[Jane] And perhaps Verity was the reason

for Michael's argument with Mr Raeburn.

Who is Verity?

What is she?

If only we knew what this crime was,

or will be.

[ominous music]

Verity.

Verity.

Verity.

Shh.

[wind howls]

[door creaks]

[ominous music]

Martin, come back to bed.

It's all right.

You're safe.

Come on.

That's it.

That's it.

[soft piano music]

[knocking]

Mr Raeburn, you'll miss breakfast.

[ominous music]

Mr Raeburn.

[Raymond] Colin.

Oh, it's Detective Constable, actually.

Oh, this is my aunt.

Of course, you're the writer, aren't you?

[Colin] Oh, well, perhaps one day.

[Raymond Will there be

a postmortem on Mr Raeburn?

[Colin] No need.

He had a heart condition.

But shouldn't you test
his medicine for poison?

Poison?

Who'd wanna poison him?

Besides, Mr Lumley and

the German said that the door was locked

when they helped him back,
and he had the key, so,

well, the medicine
couldn't have been gone at.

Oh.

Raymond, are you really too
busy to help an aspiring author?

I'll take your advice,
Aunt Jane, as usual.

Are your jottings typed up?

Oh, yeah, they can be.

Do test the medicine, just in case.

We'll see.

[ominous music]

It's ghastly.

It disrupts the itinerary.

[Sydney] Margaret!

Why did Raeburn call you that?

He didn't.

I don't know.

Come on, sit down, sit down.

Sorry for the delay.

I have to deal with the formalities.

We're just waiting for the police.

The police?

It's routine with a sudden death.

Wasn't it strange, Mr Raeburn,
coming out with that name?

[clanking]

Verity?

Quite unusual.

Wonder who she could be, if anyone.

Don't suppose any of us knows a Verity?

I certainly don't.

We did.

She was a novice at St
Elspeth's, our old convent

before the order moved
to London after the war.

We took her in one winter's stay, 1939.

What brought her to you?

She was running from a man,

and the next summer, he found her.

But I sent him away in
no uncertain manner.

She owed me money.

I let her have a room
in my house in Kilburn,

and she did a flit.

I just tracked her down.

She had a different story.

An over attentive landlord.

Nah, nah.

[Sister Clotilde] And a few
days later, she disappeared.

[Sydney] Got nothing to do with me.

Did she tell you where she'd come from?

No, no, she didn't, no.

She did say that she'd followed
her mother into service.

A servant family?

It's just a thought,

but the girl in the
photograph that got broken,

Mr Raeburn seemed to know her.

Verity was a housemaid's
daughter at Forrester Grange.

Raeburn was very fond
of her, and she of him.

And her father?

She was told he was Arthur Hunt,

an undergardner who died
when she was a baby.

But in fact, she was born the
wrong side of the blanket.

A love child?

I doubt love came into
it, knowing her mother.

She never did say who the real father was.

Verity followed her mother into service,

but she was caught stealing and ran away.

That child would never steal.

I loathe dishonesty, and
seeing her in a fruit bowl

was just too much.

Weren't you arguing with Mr
Raeburn at Forrester Grange?

We disagreed about the war.

And so?

Do you know where Verity is now?

She's dead.

Sometimes I get vibrations.

Quite a bother, but he is usually right.

Oh love, you all right?

He's seen too much death.

Go to him.

Blessed are they that mourn,

for they shall be comforted.

It's you, Madam.

You stayed here before, in wartime.

Summer 1940.

Don't be so stupid.

What makes you think it was me?

I remember your manner.

You remember wrong.

Now go away.

We're all in considerable distress.

[dramatic violin music]

Miss Barrow, are those regulation issue?

[Georgina] Daffodil Tours like their staff

to look their best.

Wise policy.

Out of interest, who runs Daffodil Tours?

Mr Daffodil.

[Raymond] What will he think
of a death on the tour?

I'd imagine he'll be as shocked as I am.

What's next?

An invigorating walk.

Stout shoes, please, and
shorts, if you've got the legs.

[Martin] I don't think I'll come.

Oh, love.

You still feeling upset?

[Martin] I'm tired, yeah.

She was very kind, wasn't she?

Sister Clotilde.

[Martin] Yeah, she was very calming.

Come on, then.

Blow the cobwebs away.

[Martin] Okay.

See you downstairs.

[creepy ominous music]

You're at Liberty to explore

as you wish, everyone, from now on,

and we'll meet back at the
Flying Horse this evening.

It's a steep climb up to the rocks.

Mr Faber, keep up.

You said it is allowed to walk alone.

Don't blame him.

Something's going on.

[Georgina] Let's keep our spirits up.

All these coincidences.

Everyone's connected to everyone else.

Not us.

I think Mrs Lumley might be right.

That's a very pleasant riverside walk

for those of you who prefer.

What could have upset Mr Faber?

His name is not Faber.

I have to tell someone.

His name is Michael Rafiel,
and I think he killed Verity.

During the war, we took in

wounded servicemen at St Elspeth's.

Those that hospital could
do nothing more for,

and for one reason or another,
they couldn't go home.

We had our nursing skills
and some medical support

and did our best for them.

Though, in truth, it wasn't always enough.

And then in 1940, the Battle of Britain,

Michael's aircraft was shot down,

and Verity found him alive.

We gave him sanctuary.

A German airman?

Well, love thine enemy.

Another German pilot was nearly killed

by local villagers when they found him.

[Sister Clotilde] Verity
nursed him in secret,

away from our official patients.

[Jane] They fell in love.

[Sister Clotilde] Yes.

[Sister Agnes] I remember
the day she left.

She was keeping vigil with Ralph Collins,

an RAF pilot who was nearing his end.

And then she told me that she and Michael

were running away together,
and she was to meet him here

in Medhurst on Bonaventure Rocks.

And I reminded her that she
had offered herself to God.

I told her to come to the
chapel and pray to Saint Elspeth

for strength to tell Michael

that she must never see him again.

And pray she did.

And St Elspeth gave her the strength.

I must confess, I was very surprised.

Young love can be so strong,

but Mother Superior was
right, as she always is,

and Verity chose God over
her passion for Michael.

I wished her good luck, and
off she went to tell him,

but she never came back.

[Sister Agnes] And a week or so later,

when we were burying poor Ralph Collins,

news reached us that
Michael had been captured

and taken to a prisoner of war camp.

[Sister Clotilde] We never
heard from Verity again.

Did you report her missing?

Yes, but to my everlasting
shame, I only told the police

that she'd gone into
Medhurst on an errand.

I couldn't mention Michael because

I would have faced prison
myself for harbouring the enemy.

And it was my fault.

He killed her.

We can't say that.

Thwarted desire can unleash evil,

even in the best of souls.

[thunder roars]

You still think all of
this is a coincidence?

Forrester Grange, Raeburn, Verity?

Well, no, but, well,

if I can tell you about this counsellor-

But what, you worm?

Well, I don't see what we can do about it.

You see, the principle of the matter is,

- there's a lot of factors-
- We?

One doesn't keep a dog and bark oneself.

Ah, dog or one, dog or one.

That's a difficult question

because there's a number of
permutations there, you see.

Oh, go way, Derek.

Shoo!

[moody piano music]

I've had enough of it, Sydney.

I'm frightened.

We're not stopping now.

Please.

I can't manage without you, darling.

We're in this together.

It's not me you care about, is it?

Wait, don't be silly.

[panting]

[Raymond] Slow down!

I know who you are.

A few years older and dressing
sharper, but it's you.

Is it?

Got a proposition.

Come to my room later,
without your husband.

[Rowena] You all right?

[Martin] Yeah, I'm fine.

[Rowena] You can see right to the coast,

apparently, from the top.

[Martin] Yeah?

I think I'll wait for you here.

Is it playing up?

No, it's fine.

I'll wait with you.

No, no, you go, it's fine.

Yeah, I'll see you later.

Bye, love.

Yeah.

[ominous music]

[footsteps crunching]

[crows caw]

[footsteps]

What do you want?

[intense dramatic music]

Georgina?

Wasn't it Cocteau who said,

[speaking in French]

"Writing should be an act of love.

"Otherwise it's nothing but scribble."

[knocking]

I've had the report of Mr
Raeburn's heart medicine.

Not a trace of poison,

but I did order a postmortem,
and you were right.

He was poisoned..

When?

The latest, soon after he went to bed.

At the earliest, seven o'clock.

[ominous dramatic music]

Exactly, Mr West.

Could someone have slipped
it into his champagne?

Certainly.

[knocking]

Hi, sorry.

Has anyone seen Rowena?

[dramatic violin music]

[Sister Clotilde And
Sister Agnes] Our father,

who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name,

thy kingdom come, thy will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.

[Raymond] We don't know she was pushed.

Perhaps she just lost her footing.

No, no, I can't see it.

Oh, Mr Hards is right, Raymond.

Of course Rowena Waddy was murdered.

[creepy piano music]

[Colin] What you got there?

Just a piece of straw.

[Colin] What about this figure you saw?

I only glimpsed him.

Dark jacket, hat.

See, you say him.

Could it have been a woman?

[Raymond] I suppose so.

Is there something over there?

No.

No, there isn't.

Why not treat this as an accident for now?

One of our group is a killer,

and until we know why
they murdered Mr Raeburn

and possibly Verity Hunt-

Don't put their guard up.

Exactly.

Now, do you know of a
man called Jason Rafiel?

I thought she must have
gone down another way.

I came back, she wasn't
there, I took a nap.

I didn't sleep well last night.

And when I woke, still no sign of her.

Is your sleep often disturbed?

Yeah.

The name,

Verity.

Almost drives me mad.

Is that the real reason that you're here?

I advertised in the personal columns.

"Haunted by Verity,
desperate for the truth.

"Please contact."

I received two tickets by
post, her name on the card.

Had you, perhaps, met Verity somewhere?

Forrester Grange, or where
the nuns were, St Elspeth's,

or Kilburn, where she
lodged with Mr Lumley?

If I had, I doubt I'd remember.

[Raymond] Why not?

Somewhere in here is
shrapnel from Dunkirk.

My memory conked out.

Took six months in Dover
Hospital for me to recover it.

[mumbles] be identified.

It was Christmas before they
reunited me with Rowena.

Did you tell her about Verity?

It upset me too much.

Yes, Sydney told me about Verity Hunt,

and yes, I suppose there is a resemblance.

Especially when we first
saw you on the coach.

What do you mean?

You were less sophisticated.

No jewellery, hardly any makeup.

Like you were when Mr
Raeburn called you Verity.

Sydney prefers me like that sometimes.

Reminds him of her.

So what?

Had you met anyone else
in the group before?

No, thank you.

So that afternoon...

I was upset with Sydney.

I went up to those rocks
on my own all the time.

Exactly where?

One rock's the same as another.

Right?

One rock's the same as another?

I was looking for Margaret.

She was in a bad mood.

What's this got to do
with Mrs Waddy's accident?

Perhaps you'd prefer to
tell me about Verity.

I've got nothing to hide.

Autumn '39, when my mother passed away,

I advertised for a lodger, yeah.

Just for the company.

I let her have the room,

even though she couldn't quite afford it.

Sometimes we used to go to the flicks.

I'd get her chocolates.

Sundays, we used to
listen to the wireless.

I asked her to marry me, she ran away.

I had this picture postcard from Medhurst,

saying a very nice sorry,

so I traced her to St Elspeth's,

in the hope that I could talk
her into changing her mind,

but they wouldn't let me in.

I wouldn't harm her in a million years.

If you want to know who scared her,

it's your honourable
Amanda bloody Dalrymple.

'Course I scared her, because-

You're not obliged to answer questions.

And you're not obliged to interrupt.

Abusus non tollit usum,
Detective Constable.

And hic hayak hoc dickory dock.

You're not in court now.

It was me who had her
dismissed for stealing.

Verity doesn't sound like a
thief, from what I've heard.

Well, you're no judge of character.

Look at you and Avril.

I'm an excellent judge of character.

[laughing]

Should we leave you alone?

I was thinking, when you
broke that photograph,

it did seem rather more than
mere disapproval of a thief.

[Raymond] Yes.

Why would you hate her so much?

I don't know, I-

Of course you do inherit Forrester Grange,

as the next of kin to Lord Forrester.

What's that to do with anything?

You said that Verity grew up

believing that her father had died.

But suppose he was Lord Forrester.

Yes.

When her mother died and Verity turned 21,

Uncle changed his will in favour of her

because she was his only child.

Naturally, I was furious at the prospect

of losing my inheritance,

and I told her the truth,

that she was nothing more
than the illegitimate result

of a sordid romp between
her tart of a mother

and my goat of an uncle.

She was remarkably upset,
and that's why she ran away.

And that's the last I saw of her.

But you are Lord Forrester's heiress now,

so Verity must be dead.

Absens haeres non erit,

which means if you're not
around, you don't get the swag.

Four years ago, I had her declared dead.

She'd been missing for
seven without trace.

Do you by any chance remember Verity

wearing a locket around her neck,

as she was in the photograph?

I'm not in the habit of
noticing cheap jewellery.

Now, that afternoon on the rocks,

he got lost chasing butterflies, he says,

and I came straight back
down and returned here.

Did anyone see you?

They certainly would have heard to me.

One of the nuns, I don't know which,

I called out as I passed,
but we didn't speak.

I did hear Miss Dalrymple call,

but I was deep in meditation.

I'd gone in search of Michael,

to urge him finally to kneel

like the black hearted sinner that he is

and confess his guilt before the Almighty.

Fortunately for him, he disappeared.

I challenged Mr West to
a stiff climb, and won.

Her legs are longer.

When I reached the top, you'd disappeared.

I went exploring.

Does it strike you as odd

that two out of your
ten passengers are dead,

and it's only the second day of the tour?

No, 12 passengers.

No, Mr West and Miss Marple don't count.

Oh?

Why?

At Forrester Grange, Raeburn
accused me of killing her.

He guessed who I was because
Verity told him about me.

He was crazy, and so is that Agnes,

and so is anyone who
thinks that I could...

We were so in love.

[Jane] Were you?

From that first moment, I believe.

And it became more, and grew,

until we both knew it.

But I could not stay.

I decided to try for Ireland.

I asked her to come with me.

She said yes, and we arranged
to meet at Bonaventure Rocks.

She never arrived.

Someone must have seen
me and been suspicious.

But I swear, she never arrived.

I was the rest of the war a prisoner.

I asked my father, that
champion of justice,

your friend, to help, not
me, but to find Verity.

[Jason] I am sorry, Michael,
but you ask too much.

I am lucky not to be
interned as an enemy alien,

so how can I possibly help?

I'm afraid you must forget this girl.

I never would forgive him.

Never.

I cannot count the number of letters

he wrote me after the war begging me.

I burnt them all.

Yesterday afternoon, standing
on those rocks again,

I felt Verity was there.

One razor, silver.

One gentleman's comb, black.

Are you making any sense of all of this?

I'm starting to.

One letter.

Verity to Rayburn, one letter,

May I?

Oh yes, yes, of course, of course.

One, two hairbrushes.

[soft old-timey music]

I think I left my knitting.

Your earrings are pretty.

I saw some just like
them in Gallod's window

when Raymond took me to tea in Piccadilly.

They were awfully expensive.

Oh, I always buy my jewellery at Gallod's.

Though, all good things come to an end,

and there were some things
that money can't buy,

Sydney says.

Well.

Good night.

Ooh.

Sorry, are you writing?

What is it, Colin?

Oh yeah, I telephoned Dick Rogers.

He was on the missing persons
inquiry for Verity Hunt.

And?

Nothing.

They looked all around the Medhurst area.

Even searched up at the convent,

in case she'd come to some sort of harm.

You don't mean they suspected

dark and dreadful deeds
at St Elspeth's, do you?

No, no, he's very thorough, old Dick.

Turned the place upside down, but no, no.

Just vanished into thin air.

Mind you, Mother Superior
has a cunning streak,

if you want my opinion,
under that heart of stone.

I wouldn't put it past her to
steal away from the convent,

dead of night, and dump a body

somewhere it would never be found.

On a bicycle.

Mr West.

They didn't have a car.

Your imagination.

Yes, well, that's what a writer needs.

Of course, yes.

Still going well?

Yes.

It's all up here.

Just a matter of letting it out, quite.

I don't suppose you've had
the chance to cast your eyes-

No, no, not yet.

[soft ominous music]

There you are.

[Margaret] Yes, Derek.

[Derek] You're ready for me?

Yes, Derek.

Royal Navy, me.

Swallowed half the Atlantic

when I was torpedoed in '42.

Next thing, I'm with the Ministry of Food,

writing pamphlets about powdered eggs.

[laughs]

- Powdered eggs.
- Powdered eggs.

Powdered eggs.

Somebody had to do it.

Evening.

Had a nosebleed.

Ice, please.

Why didn't you tell me up on the rocks?

You might have pushed
him off and killed him.

I didn't know you had it in you.

Nobody tries it on in my
wife and gets away with it.

Thanks, Syd.

[Verity] I'll wear the locket you gave me

until my dying day, I promise.

I can't tell you where I am,

but I'm in love with a
German airman called Michael.

Raymond.

We toasted love, but
no idea what it is, me.

You are drunk.

Well deducted.

Deduced.

Spot on.

Why can I write about
love, but I can't do it?

You haven't written
about anything recently,

as far as I can tell.

So cruel, Aunt Jane.

It's not all the time tip, tapping, tap.

There's thinking.

Then leave yourself some room for thinking

instead of cramming your life
with Avril and Sophia and-

[screaming]

[intense dramatic music]

Looking for this?

What on earth's happening?

Some of us need our 10 hours.

Is it a party?

[Jason] Ladies and gentlemen,
may I have your attention?

My name is Jason Rafiel.

If you're hearing this,
it has become necessary

through my earthly representative

to encourage you to
continue this mystery tour.

Your next destination will, I hope,

reveal the true fate of poor Verity,

and justice shall prevail.

[needle scratches]

[mournful music]

As ye sow, so shall ye reap.

Why did you ask Miss Dalrymple
about Verity's locket?

Was there something special about it?

It was very special indeed to Verity.

[Amanda] What happened to your nose?

Caught it on a door handle
doing up my shoelace.

What are they looking at?

Where are we going now?

Sit down.

We don't want an accident.

Why are we going here?

St Elspeth's.

[Margaret] What are we doing here?

I don't like it.

[Amanda screams]

Something's just scurried over my foot.

My shoe, my shoe.

I expect it was a mouse.

More like a rat.

Don't you know what's going on?

You are a policemen.

Doesn't necessarily follow, I'm afraid.

She doesn't look too happy, does she?

Martyrdom is no laughing
matter, Mr Lumley.

St Elspeth's heart was pierced

by the spear of Lord Ethelbert

when she refused to forsake her faith

to become his mistress.

Some of her bones lie here
still in the chapel below.

[soaring music]

[ominous music]

I fell in love here.

With Verity?

How do you know this?

[Jane] There you are.

My head's exploding.

I had terrible dreams last night.

I saw her face,

and then it vanished.

There was another woman calling me.

She was calling me.

Rowena's death was a dreadful thing.

It was dreadful.

I can't feel, but I think
I should be feeling.

It's a terrible thing to say.

I wonder if I ever truly loved her at all.

[Sydney] I don't believe you.

What's wrong with the coach?

It got us here.

Well, it's not getting us back.

So where's the nearest taxi
rank, Miss Daffodil 1951?

You sabotaged it.

We're staying the night and
that's all there is to it.

It's not.

I'm not staying here.

Put my keys back, Mr...

The man I saw on Bonaventure Rocks

when Mrs Waddy was killed, he wore these.

The book has your name on it, Mr. Faber.

Why would I kill Mrs Waddy?

I have never seen those clothes before.

You can give your statement
at the police station.

When?

Tomorrow.

That was my first arrest
since leaving uniform for CID.

Good, yes.

What'd you make of that?

Fresh flowers?

Well, those too.

The inscription.

"Known Unto God," that's for
an unknown soldier, surely.

Then there's his name.

Oh, that was added later.

We only identified him
sometime after the burial,

when his widow came looking for him.

She'd scoured the hospitals
and we were her last hope.

She was too late.

But we'd kept his signet
ring and she recognised that.

Poor woman.

She must still visit him.

What?

My card, if you want to
sue for wrongful arrest.

How do you know I'm innocent?

I don't, just hedging my bets.

Perhaps you know that Amanda
put those clothes in my bag.

[Derek] Why would she?

Perhaps she can't help
herself, hurting the innocent.

Verity was terrified of her.

If you don't want my help-

Wait.

The waitress said Amanda
stayed at the Flying Horse

around the time Verity disappeared.

It's you, Madam.

You stayed here before.

She was mistaken.

[dramatic music]

Was she?

[Derek] Yes!

Was she?

No, Amanda was there, but
she didn't do anything.

Go.

Oh.

Where do you really fit in, Georgina?

Jason Rafiel, gramophone messages,

coach that suddenly won't start.

I'm a driver and tour guide.

[Raymond] And you follow orders?

I tried to be a model employee.

And this is my first assignment.

[Raymond] And before.

Intelligence Corps in the war.

Taught at a posh girls school after.

Latin and netball.

Long legs must've come in handy.

So did the brain.

Are you following in
your aunt's footsteps?

Sleuthing?

Staying single.

This is my artistic temperament.

Not with supper to cook.

My mattress is simply
crawling with things.

Then you'll just have to

frighten them away, Miss Dalrymple.

Well, I didn't say a word.

You'd better not have.

Mother Superior was telling
me about Ralph Collins.

Oh, the headstone.

It was all terribly sad.

He was more or less in a
coma from the day he arrived.

No papers, no memory.

The most appalling injuries.

Mother Superior took it
very hard when we lost him.

I laid him out all by myself to spare her,

and broke the news in the morning.

We were all terribly on edge.

It was almost a week since
Verity had disappeared.

[ominous music]

[Colin] He's escaped!

Michael's gone!

[Raymond] He's got to be here somewhere.

You two, go that way.

Gonna go down.

[creaking and shuffling]

[footsteps crunching]

It's me, it's me.

Perhaps he's made a run for it.

Let's just try inside the chapel.

[slow sombre music]

Is that him?

[screaming]

[dramatic intense music]

[Amanda] No, please, no!

You killed Verity.

Confess it.

How could I?

She's still alive!

After I'd had Verity
declared dead by the courts,

she wrote threatening
to return from the grave

unless I paid her £50 a month.

But anyone could have read
about your legal action

and written a letter.

I'm not that gullible.

I sent Derek to meet her with a photograph

and a list of questions about her past.

And it was her?

Yes.

I only ask because

when Mrs Lumley first
saw you at the coach,

she put on dark glasses,

as if you were afraid Mr.
Turnbull might recognise you.

Such a fear could account

for your transformation that evening

from the plain and simple look

that you said reminded
Mr Lumley of Verity.

And reminded Raeburn too.

That's why he called you by her name!

It is possible, isn't it?

How could you be so utterly stupid?

It looked like her from the photo.

Didn't it?

In your simple little frock and a dark wig

under the light of a Backstreet lamp

because you were too
nervous to meet in daylight.

Of course you answered all the questions

about Verity's background,

because your husband coached you.

He's not that stupid.

He rumbled us on the rocks, didn't he?

Are you admitting to blackmail?

Ask him about blackmail.

He said if I came to
his room and did things,

he'd keep quiet about us.

How's your nose?

All that money!

Wait, why were you in Medhurst
when Verity disappeared?

Were you looking for her?

Yes.

How did you know where she was?

She'd written to an old skivvy
chum at Forrester Grange

that she was here at the convent.

I wanted to offer her an allowance,

if she kept quiet about her real father.

But I never got the chance.

Then my Verity, is she
alive or is she dead?

I expect things will make
sense in the morning.

They usually do.

Mother Superior wondered
if you'd like this.

Cocoa.

How thoughtful of her.

Wasn't it?

Still, she can be...

Was Verity right to decide
to give up Michael for God?

We all have to love in our own ways.

Sleep tight.

[tense dramatic music]

[Jane] Whose soul are you praying for?

Is it mine?

Who are you?

I am Nemesis,

and justice will roll down like waters.

And righteousness, the everlasting stream.

The poison in my cocoa is the same poison

that killed Mr Raeburn, isn't it?

Mother Agnes asked me
to give you that cocoa.

I asked her to, but she didn't poison it.

It was a temptation, Clotilde,

and you succumbed.

When Mr Raeburn said Verity
at the Flying Horse...

Verity?

[Jane] It wasn't Margaret
Lumley he was looking at.

It was you.

You were wearing a locket
that I saw at Forrester Grange

in the photograph placed
there by Georgina.

A locket given Verity
by her adored Mr Raeburn

that she'd promised him she
would wear until her dying day.

When you saw him recognise
it, he had to die.

I don't think the poison
was in the champagne.

Cocoa?

You were wearing something.

Shh.

Sleep tight.

Was it like that?

[Sister Agnes] Poor Mr Raeburn.

And poor Verity.

Your own special one.

You killed her.

There is no proof.

Isn't there?

You killed me.

I loved you,

but you were leaving me.

She said St Elspeth has
given her the strength,

but not to reject Michael, to go with him.

I wished her good luck.

[Distant Voice] Verity.

Verity.

[tense dramatic music]

What did you do with her?

Where is she?

Dead and buried.

What did you do with her?

I put her in Michael's room.

[Jane] And telephoned
the police anonymously?

And told them a German was on the run

at Bonaventure Rocks.

Yes.

And then I prayed to St
Elspeth every day for a week,

until she told me what to do.

And informed Mother Superior

that the unidentified patient

nearly blind in a coma had died.

But in fact, you wheeled
him to Michael's room

where Verity lay and then...

The police were coming to search.

I had to wrap her in bandages.

I swaddled her in a shroud.

And then buried her as Ralph Collins.

But I wore her locket always.

And now I understand.

I wasn't in hospital
all those months, was I?

You were here.

In Michael's room.

I'm not Captain Martin
Waddy of the tank regiment.

I'm Flying Officer Ralph Collins.

I expected you to die,

but St Elspeth told me to atone,
and nurse you back to life.

You were my secret, but I
didn't know what to do with you.

And then she granted me a miracle.

I read of a woman, clearly
disturbed, who wouldn't accept

that her husband was missing
at Dunkirk, presumed dead.

I sat by your bed as you recovered

the memory I wanted for you.

And be with your wife, Rowena.

[Ralph] Rowena.

I returned Captain
Martin Waddy to his wife.

She thought it was a miracle.

She wanted to believe.

Martin?

Army Welfare, Mrs Waddy.

He's home.

It's a miracle.

But when she recognised
you, you had to kill her.

Poor Rowena.

It was you Raymond saw
on Bonaventure Rocks

after you'd pushed Rowena
Waddy to her death.

How do you know?

I found a clue,

and the scarecrow I'd noticed

on the day of Mrs Waddy's
murder had been moved,

because you had used it in your deception

while you were killing Mrs
Waddy, dressed in the clothes

you later placed in Michael's case,

Miss Dalrymple saw you deep in meditation.

Of course you couldn't answer her,

so it seemed you were
nowhere near the rocks

when Mrs Waddy died.

I can never forgive myself.

It's God who forgives.

Please.

A moment's prayer.

[low ominous music]

[mournful violin music]

There's a new world out there.

[birds tweeting]

That's very, definitely
the last ever time ever

I pretend to be Verity.

Yes, darling.

Thank you.

How many grindingly hard
years for blackmail?

We're not pressing charges, Amanda.

Think of the papers.

Quite.

Ghastly.

Warm my seat.

Ray, Bunny's fancy dress thing Saturday.

I'm going as a nun.

Sorry, but I'll be tip, tip,
tapping on the new novel.

Your jottings.

And?

You've really got something.

Oh, good.

Good.

I'm thinking of giving up the police.

Oh, but you have the makings
of an excellent detective.

All aboard.

[upbeat cheerful music]

[slow calm music]

[slow joyful music]

[Jason] Let justice roll down like waters,

and righteousness like
an everlasting stream.

[bouncy violin music]