All language subtitles for Inside No 9 s09e05 Curse of the Ninth.eng

This programme contains scenes which
some viewers may find disturbing from the start

CLOCK TICKS

ORCHESTRA TUNES UP

TAPPING, ORCHESTRA QUIETENS

VIOLIN PLAYS SOFTLY

ELECTRICAL SPARKING

SHOUTS: Leave me alone!

CREAKING

HANDLE RATTLES

HE GASPS

HE STRAINS

THUD

KNOCK ON DOOR

GUN COCKS

THUDDING

THUDDING

THUD ON FLOOR

DOORBELL RINGS

BIRDS CHIRP

Oh, hello. Jonah Quigley.

I've come to tune your piano.

- Where's your dog?

- Oh, I don't have a dog.

- The last fella had a dog.

- Oh, well, perhaps he was unsighted.

Many of my colleagues are.

They have a heightened sense of
hearing,

which makes them ideal for the
position.

- Relieved himself all up and down my
lady's curtains, he did.

- Really?

Oh, you mean the dog! Ha! Well, I can
assure you

I won't be doing that.

- Follow me.

- Oh, my goodness.

A Bechstein, if I'm not mistaken.

They have one of these in Buckingham
Palace, so I'm told.

One of the sweetest-sounding
instruments in all of Europe.

May I?

PLAYS TWO NOTES TOGETHER

- She hasn't been fingered in a number
of years.

I do hope you'll be able to tighten
the strings.

Devonshire, go and fetch a glass of
gooseberry juice

for Mr...?
- Quigley.

- Mr Quigley. How quaint.

Or would you prefer something
stronger?

I've just popped open a rather perky
bottle of poo.

- No, thank you. Water is fine for me.

No ice or lemon.

- Don't flatter yourself.

- I'll just, um...

- You will have noticed

that the Bechstein has seen better
days.

I really ought to have it replaced but
it's of sentimental value.

- Ah. Do you play at all?

- I'm afraid not. I haven't the
patience.

The instrument belonged to my late
husband.

After he passed, it rather went to
seed.

As did I.

- Well, I am very sorry to hear that.

About your husband passing, I mean.

Not about your going to seed.

Which of course you haven't.

Still most becoming.

A fan of Burnham, was he?
- I'm sorry?

- Your husband, a fan of Nathaniel
Burnham?

I couldn't help but notice your bust.

On the desk.

And the sheet music.

His 5th Symphony was incredible.

- If you like that sort of thing.

- I was a keen student of his.

The way he blends so many different
styles and moods.

Brooding and violent one minute,

romantic the next.

I studied Burnham's symphonies at the
Guildhall.

- Did you really?

- Yes.

Yes. I, uh...

I had aspirations to compose myself at
one point, but...

..life got in the way.

Inspiration failed to strike.

So now I do this.

Satisfying in its own way.

- Glass of water, no ice or lemon.

- Thank you.

- Will there be anything else, Mrs
Burnham?

- No, that's fine for now. Thank you,
Devonshire.

- Mrs Burnham?

- Nathaniel composed his 5th at that
very piano, Mr Quigley.

And you're quite right.

He could be romantic and brooding and,
yes...

..violent.

Especially when the muse deserted him.

Which is why I wish to preserve his
legacy.

After all,

there's many a good tune can be played
on an old piano.

- DOOR CLOSES

NOTE REVERBERATES

NOTE REVERBERATES

DULL NOTE

DULL NOTE

Mrs Burnham?

Oh, sorry. I didn't realise you had
company.

- Not at all.

This is Dickie Van Aas.

- A dear friend of mine who was also
Nathaniel's lawyer.

He takes care of all my business
affairs.

Of course. A pleasure to meet you,
sir.

- How do you do?

- Won't you join us?

- Oh, well, I don't want to intrude.

Thank you, Somerset.

- Devonshire.

- Ah, of course. Sorry.

The thing is, Mrs Burnham,

I have just found this piece of
manuscript paper

jammed between the C2 and the D2.

I wondered

whether it might have been written by
Mr Burnham.

Only, it looks to be part of a
symphony,

and it isn't anything I recognised.

- Mm.

It's his, all right.

What a sharp-eyed fellow you are.

- Does that give me leave to hope that
there may be

an unperformed piece?

This could be a major discovery.

- That will be all, Devonshire. Thank
you.

- Ma'am.

- Are you familiar, Mr Quigley, with
the Curse of the Ninth?

- Vaguely, yes. Isn't it a sort of
superstition?

- Exactly.

It's a misguided belief that a
composer is going to die

after writing their ninth symphony.

Mahler started it. It's all poppycock.

- It isn't poppycock, Lillian.

Ever since Ludwig, it's been a
decisive landmark.

Beethoven, Dvorak,

Schubert, Bruckner.

After the ninth, they all went from
composing to decomposing.

To embark upon symphony number nine is
considered a folly,

Mr Quigley.

- GRAMOPHONE CLUNKS

- A challenge to fate.

- MUSIC STARTS

- Poor old Mahler,

well, he was possessed by the idea.

He tried to dodge the curse,

refusing to number his ninth symphony,

passing it off as a song cycle.

- Das Lied Von Der Erde.
- Exactly.

But Death was not to be cheated.

By the time he composed this,

his true ninth,

his daughter had died,

his wife had begun an affair,

and his health had started to fail.

He didn't live long enough to hear it
performed.

- But Burnham...

..your husband,

he only ever composed eight
symphonies. Correct?

- Technically, yes.

He'd been very much affected by what
had happened to Mahler.

Two months after attending the funeral
in Vienna,

Nathaniel announced he was going to
start composing

his next symphony in Gustav's honour.

It would be his ninth.

He never found it easy to begin any
new work, but...

..this was...

- SHE SIGHS

- It was torture.

To begin with, we dismissed it as
nothing more than writer's block,

but I believe he'd been gripped by the
fear of the curse.

- The thought of actually finishing
the symphony

came to terrify him.

Then one night...

- NATHANIEL: Leave me alone!

HE STRAINS

HANDLE RATTLES

GUNSHOT

THUD ON FLOOR

LILLIAN GASPS

- We reported it as a heart attack, of
course,

but, um,

it seems he'd driven himself
completely mad.

- I am so sorry.

- He brought it upon himself.

- And so...the work remained
unfinished.

This is incredible. I never heard
mention of it before.

I'm sure that the Burnham Society
would...

- Nathaniel made it clear to me that,
should he die

before the ninth was complete,

he wanted it buried with him.

- So that's what we did.

It's out there,

six feet under.

Sad, really...

..to deprive the world

of such genius.

- DRAWER CLOSES

- But we had to respect his wishes.

- A private burial it was.

Just my ladyship, Mr Van Aas

and a couple of other witnesses.

All very cloak-and-dagger.

- What are you getting at, Kent?

- Devonshire.

- Sorry. Devonshire.

- Just that he deserved better.

- Well, fortunately for us, his music
lives on.

- Yes. Most of it.

- Oh, well, to have another Burnham
gifted to the world...

..you couldn't put a price on such a
thing.

- Hmm.

Here is the key to the tradesman's
entrance.

I'm giving it to you now

so that you can make your own way out,
via the garden.

- Ah, thank you.

- I don't want you disturbing Mrs
Burnham.

She usually retires early on a
weekday. Nine o'clock,

I should imagine. She'll be asleep by
then.

- No, I won't disturb her.

I'm finished now, in fact.

- Mr Quigley?

Do be careful when leaving

that you don't trip over the
gardener's spade,

which you will find located in his
shed

near the pear tree.

- Well, I shan't trip up over it

if it's tucked away in the shed, shall
I?

- Here is the key...

..to the shed.

- Yes, but why would I...?

Oh.
- Mm.

- Oh, but... No, I don't think that I
could...

- Nine o'clock.

We working people have to make our own
opportunities,

don't we?

- Yes.
- Mm.

- Yes. I suppose we do.

DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES

GRAMOPHONE PLAYS

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH

DOOR OPENS

- Just to let you know I've turned
down your bed

and put your cocoa on the dressing
table.

- Bring it down here, will you,
Devonshire?

I'm determined to finish this sky.

- It's almost nine o'clock, ma'am.

- The picture's not complete

until the last piece goes in.

- CLOCK CHIMES THE HOUR

- There!

Most gratifying.

Glorious to see all the little...

- I'll tidy this away for you, ma'am.

- Very well.

Goodnight, Devonshire.

- Night, ma'am.

- OWL HOOTS, HE PANTS

HE GRUNTS

HE GASPS

Forgive me...

BONES SNAP

- You found it, then?

Here, let me help you.

You're, uh... You're going to have to
fill all that back in.

- Yes, I'm aware of that!

- I think it's better if we don't see
each other for a while.

I've got several people interested.

- Interested in what?

- In buying this, of course. Like you
said, it's priceless.

We just need to find the highest
bidder.

- I didn't say it was priceless.

I said you couldn't put a price ON it.

This is a work of art. It's not a
piece of merchandise!

- What did you think we were going to
do with it?

- Well, I want to study it,

to hear it played. I could be the
first person to conduct it.

DEVONSHIRE GIGGLES

- You need your head examining.

Who is going to let you conduct this?

- Why not me?

I was one of his greatest admirers.

I've studied his music for years!

- You remember your place, Mr Quigley.

You are staff, just like me.

You're just a paid-by-the-hour lowlife
piano-tuner!

This is our ticket out of here.

- I am not like you. Don't you dare
say that.

This music is...is a miracle.

It's a gift we can give back to the
world.

I'm not using it to line my own
pockets!

- Well, I am!

- Come back, Derbyshire, please!

SHOUTS:
- My name is Devonshire!

- CLANG

THUD

BELL CHIMES

HE PANTS

HE GRUNTS

- No!

Please...

- SHE GASPS

MUFFLED SCREAMS

DOORBELL RINGS

- Ah, Mr Quigley.

How nice to see you again. Do come in.

We've been trying to get hold of you
all week.

Your employer said something about a
leave of absence.

- Yes.

I've not been in the best of health
since I was last here.

- Oh, dear. I am sorry to hear that.

I apologise for having to admit you
myself,

but I'm afraid Devonshire has rather
disappeared.

- SHAKILY: Oh?

- Yes. It's quite a mystery.

Took off in the middle of the night

without a by-your-leave.

All of her things left in her room.
Most perplexing.

- Well, perhaps she's just...

- Gone to ground? Yes, that's what we
thought.

Come through.

You remember Dickie, don't you?

- Oh...

Yes, of course. Hello.

- How-de-do?

- What, uh, seems to be the problem?

- Something seems a little off.

A trifle flat, maybe.

See what you think.

- What do you want me to play?

- How about this piece of Nathaniel's
unfinished symphony

that you unearthed?

- Oh, but I'm not very good at sight
reading.

- Nonsense. As a student of my late
husband's work,

it's surely of some interest?

- HE SNIFFS

PLAYS HESITANTLY

HE SCREAMS

- Mr Quigley, is everything all right?

- Perhaps he'd like a glass of water?

- Of course.

Devon... Oh. I forgot.

She's not here.

And she's not coming back, is she?

- DOOR CLOSES

You know!

- Sit down.

We knew that Devonshire was greedy.

We hoped she might encourage you to
dig up the manuscript,

but we didn't expect you to kill her.

Still, gives us more leverage, I
suppose.

- What do you mean, leverage?

- I've been auditing the accounts,

and it appears that Lillian's been
living beyond her means.

To put it bluntly, she's broke.

She needs a lot of money quickly,

and the unexpected discovery

of her late husband's final work could
be

just the ticket, as they say.

- I'll give it back to you.

I wanted to return it anyway. I think
it's that

that's been making me ill.
- Perhaps.

That and the guilt of murdering a
defenceless young woman.

The point is, Mr Quigley,

the symphony remains unfinished.

- And who better to complete it

than my husband's greatest admirer?
Water.

No lemon, no ice.

- No, you don't understand.

I can't complete it! I'm not up to it!

- Well, you said yourself you dabbled
with composing.

You have the allegro sonata from the
first movement,

the andante, the scherzo.

It should be possible to complete the
work.

- But what about the curse?

Surely whoever completes the ninth
will bring it upon themselves.

- The curse is a nonsense, as I've
told you before.

It's simply a state of mind.

You can choose not to succumb to it.

- I'm already in its grip.

SHAKILY: I can feel a darkness
following me wherever I go,

Death's hand on my shoulder.

- Better than a policeman's hand on
your shoulder.

- Take all the time you wish.

You can work here,

have access to Nathaniel's archives,

all of his notes.

I just need you to finish the
symphony.

And then you'll be free.

- Splendid. That's settled, then.

We look forward to hearing it.

- KEY TURNS IN LOCK

NATHANIEL:
- What's the problem?

- I don't know where to begin.

- It's not the beginning, boy, it's
the end.

It's the final movement, remember?

Have you studied what's gone before?

- Yes, of course I have.

- Then build upon it.

A modified sonata form.

- A false recapitulation?

- Exactly.

But we must first consider the melody.
What do you have?

- Uh...

HUMS A GENTLE MELODY

The second subject in the strings.

A sequence resolved with a plagal
cadence.

- Where's the risk?

The final movement mustn't be timid.

Fragmentation, inversion,

imitation within the woodwinds.

Use the diminished seventh to imply
the secondary dominant.

- Underneath...

..a return to the drone of the brass
as before,

as in the exposition.

Yes.

Yes, this is it.

I can hear it!

- It's satisfying, isn't it?

- Can I ask you a question?

- Of course.

- Why are you helping me?

- It amuses me.

I want to see how far you get before
it grips you.

- You mean the curse?

- Of course.

- No, that's your torment, not mine.

- I can already see the black shadow
of doubt

enveloping your every choice.

Why bother?

You'll never reach the heights of
Beethoven or Mahler.

Or indeed me.

But you never try.

Why?

"Inspiration failed to strike."

Piano-tuning is "satisfying in its own
way".

- NATHANIEL CHUCKLES

- It takes an act of courage to create
anything,

and you, my boy,

are a coward!

- I'm not listening to this. What
you're talking about

is self-doubt.

It's not the same thing.

- Whoever completes my ninth symphony

will end up the same as me.

Food for the Conqueror Worm.

- People die all the time.

I've been assured by your wife that
the curse isn't real!

- Then, why didn't she complete it
herself?

- Thank you for your advice but, um...

..now I need you to be quiet.

- Mr Quigley?

Oh!

- LILLIAN GASPS

- You gave me rather a shock.

Oh...

I've brought you some breakfast.

Busy night, I see.

- It's finished.

- Glad to hear it.

I don' t believe in writer's block.

Never did.

Nathaniel just got trapped.

As he reached the summit of his
career,

the oxygen of creativity grew thinner.

He became convinced it was only ever
going to be downhill.

- Yes.

You've been at great pains to tell me.

Several times.

Can't say it was easy,

but after the initial block, it began
to flow. Here!

Don't forget the page I found in the
piano.

- Thank you.

- The picture isn't complete until the
last piece goes in.

- Of course.

- MUSIC BEGINS GENTLY

- Oh.

- Congratulations, Mrs Burnham.

You just finished your husband's ninth
symphony.

It's just as well you don't believe in
all that poppycock

about a curse.

- Indeed.

In the absence of Devonshire, you can
see yourself out,

Mr Quigley.

Nice doing business with you.

- MUSIC BUILDS

TEMPO INCREASES

MUSIC BUILDS

SHE GASPS

SHE GASPS

LILLIAN SCREAMS

DRAMATIC STACCATO CHORDS

FINAL FLOURISH

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