Original subtitles

[Upbeat music]

[Whimsical music]

[Wind howling]

Did you and Mr. Hove

enjoy your walk into town this afternoon?

Have you noticed how the light drops

and then returns?

[Chuckling] I can't say that I have.

Not yet, but last night in our room,

just before the mirror shattered,

suddenly an icy cold,

and then the lights almost went out.

I expect Mrs. Hove,

that it is because you are unused to gas,

it does tend to go up and down.

Among the first, we were,

in Manchester, to be electrified.

Oh Manchester, Edmund.

Our little house, oh, our little nest.

Always a wrench, moving.

Something you'll have to face soon my dear,

when we are married.

It's quite unusual in the country

to have it at all.

The gas, I mean.

My late aunt spent a great deal

of money laying it on.

Should have waited for the electric.

Afraid, Mr. Hove,

that had my aunt done so we might be eating

this meal by candlelight.

[Clattering]

Oh dear!

Oh, no please.

Oh, I'm so sorry,

the catch on the window

must have given way again.

I did ask the gardener to look at it for me,

but he's so deaf.

[Crashing]

Heavens!

I mean, something must've fallen over.

Better let me go first, Monica, just in case.

In case of what, Norman?

It's nothing, I tell you,

nothing that can't be explained.

[Dramatic music]

Oh, Edmund.

Edmund!

[Dramatic music]

[Wind howling]

My things!

All my beautiful clothes!

[Edmund] Gone Bella, they're gone!

[Bella] What?

He's right Mrs. Hove, the wardrobe's empty.

Oh, there you are.

Look, they're all laid out.

[Bella sighing]

[Bella gasping]

What the heck?

Cut to shreds, Edmund!

It's a sign.

They've been to murder us.

Well, that's it.

That's it, I'm leaving.

I'm not gonna stay in this house another night.

It is haunted!

[Edmund] But Bella, we paid for the fortnight!

[Bella] You stay.

[Edmund] What about our things?

Who?

Why?

I think you may safely assume that someone

wishes you to leave the red house, my dear.

[Clattering]

Don't touch.

It's glass, Tommy.

Don't want blood

on the Christmas tree now, do we?

Well I don't know.

Might be rather suitable for a detective agency.

Blunt's bloody bureau.

[Tuppence] Tommy!

Sorry, I think I got carried away.

Yes, well perhaps you'd carry this away.

We've client due any moment

and Albert's not back yet to show her in.

Oh, how sad.

I remember every Christmas at the vicarage

I used to help father hang these.

There used to be 12.

Well cheer up, still got 11 left.

Nine.

Oh, you?

No, Albert.

He insisted on helping me start.

There's a Valentino season

at the Rex picture house

and you know the phase he's going through.

Tango dancing.

Do you know he's seen blood and sand

every night this week?

He came in, he picked up an ornament,

did a violent turn,

letting it fly out of his hand,

as though it had a life of its own.

[Both laughing]

[Albert humming]

Oh, hello, sir.

Miss tuppence.

I got the tea and some sandwiches.

Turkey, very nice.

I gave you half a crown, I think.

- Think. - And I give you ninepence.

Senorita.

Is there going to be Mr. Valentino

all through Christmas, Albert?

If so, I don't think I can stand it!

Sorry, miss.

It's just that the films are so real.

Much more colourful than life.

Oi!

Oh, and here you are at the very centre

of one of britain's

most celebrated detective agencies.

Really, Albert?

How can you be so ungrateful?

Oh, it's not that, sir.

Well, I realise only too well

how important my work is here.

When I see Rudolph Valentino grab nita naldi

and sweep her into that fiery tango,

well, they're so reckless.

Precisely.

Hardly seasonal though, Albert.

Dreaming of sun and sand,

when it's more likely

to be snow and sleet outside.

Now is the time of year

for spirits to fill the night air.

Tales by the chimney breast.

Ghosts of time past.

And predictions for the future.

We used to play that at the vicarage

when I was a child.

You'd write something down

you thought might happen, seal it,

and not open it again

until the following Christmas.

I say.

What a wait.

Oh, only the first year, Tommy.

Let's do one now, ma.

You write something down, and I'll hide it

until next year.

I'll do better than that.

I'll predict something that's imminent.

[Albert] Cor!

I was always rather good at this sort of thing.

I predict that our next client will be

a clergyman's daughter.

[Tommy chuckling]

How did you know?

[Suspenseful music]

Mr. Blunt, I've always believed myself

to be a reasonably logical, sane person.

Yet circumstances are beginning to force me

to the conclusion

that my home may be haunted.

You mean you've seen a ghost, miss deane?

Well, not seen, exactly, heard.

Terrible crashing.

Crockery flying across the room.

Pictures falling.

The lights going up and down.

[Tuppence] A poltergeist.

Excuse me?

That's what they're called.

Sort of evil spirits that play tricks.

Oh!

I think, miss deane,

if we could begin at the beginning.

Oh, well it's such a rambling story.

Let's see.

My father was rector

of little hampsley in Suffolk.

Three years ago, he died.

My mother and I were left very badly off.

[Knocking on door]

[Tommy] I'm so sorry.

Come in!

I believe a cup of tea was requested, sir?

Yes, Albert, will you kindly hand it

to miss deane?

And that will be all.

Yes, sir.

Please, continue, miss deane.

Well, at first I went out to work

as a governess.

But my mother soon became a confirmed invalid,

I had to come home to look after her.

We lived in tiny but expensive lodgings,

and were desperately poor.

Until one day, our fortune seemed to change.

We received a lawyer's letter,

telling us that an aunt of my father's had died,

and had left everything to me.

I'd often heard of this aunt,

who'd quarrelled with my father many years earlier,

and knew that she was very well off.

So it really seemed our troubles were at an end.

But matters didn't turn out

quite as well as we hoped.

I did inherit the red house,

which was where she lived.

But after paying one or two

small legacies she'd made,

well, there was no money left to live on.

You two had believed your aunt to be rich.

Indeed I had, Mr. Blunt.

I suppose she must've lost it during the war,

or perhaps she'd just been living on the capital.

Still, we had the house.

It's a large rambling place,

the town is over a mile away,

so we're quite remote, really.

I suppose it's called the red house

because of the brick.

Although the locals tell more lurid tales.

[Tommy] You don't look to me the sort of girl

who listens to village gossip, miss deane.

No, I just feel so...

Oh.

Miss Robinson appears to have been

rather carried away by your story.

- Oh, how dreadful. - It's quite all right.

Perhaps you could squeeze another cup

out of Albert.

You know how he listens to you, Mr. Blunt.

Oh.

Yes.

Yes, I'll certainly try.

If you'll excuse me.

[Tommy chuckling uneasily]

Now, come on, miss deane.

Out with it.

Is it a man?

How could you know that?

Happens to everyone, happened to me.

Oh!

[Tuppence] Tell me about this man, miss deane.

Well, you see, there are two of them.

Oh, that didn't happen to me.

I suppose one rich, one poor, and the poor one's

the one you like.

[Monica] I don't know how you know these things.

Sort of law of nature. [Chuckling]

There's Norman.

Mr. Partridge.

He was with me the night the wardrobe overturned

and the hoves' clothes were shredded.

He's kind, considerate, and rich.

A good man, I'm sure, if I married him,

all our troubles would be over,

it's just that...

You don't love him.

[Whispering] No.

[Tuppence] Tell me about the one you do.

Gerald.

He's a dear.

Desperately poor, though a clever engineer.

We came up today in his car.

He made it himself.

I expect, if you look out of the window,

you'll be able to see him.

[Car engines roaring]

I understand your preference. [Chuckling]

Here we are.

Now, then, miss deane, tell us what it is exactly

that makes you suspect foul play

of a more earthly order.

It's the offers I've had for the house.

To purchase?

Yes.

Even before we moved, I received by letter,

a most generous offer.

Then, shortly after we moved in,

I was still varnishing the hall.

[Chuckling] We had decided that the only way

we could keep on the house

was by taking in paying guests.

It was Crockett's day off,

and I was desperately trying to finish off alone,

before the first visitors arrived, when...

[Doorbell ringing]

[Suspenseful music]

Good afternoon.

I've called to see your mistress.

I wonder if you would inform her.

My name is smart.

Percival smart.

Oh, still decorating, I see.

Mr. Smart, I am she, the owner of the house.

Can I help you?

Ah, miss deane?

Mm.

Oh.

I've been told the house is for sale,

and I might be interested.

Mind you, big place, difficult to heat, I expect.

[Chuckling] Still.

I'm afraid you've been misled.

I should be prepared

to make a most generous offer,

which if invested wisely...

Mr. Smart, this house is not for sale!

I intend to run it as a business proposition.

My first guests arrive next week.

[Dramatic music]

Our first visitors were two couples.

The busby's had seen our advertisement

in the home finder, and the young couple

by the name of cockwell,

quite recently married, I suspected,

had heard of us through friends.

They'd all retired early.

I read to mother as usual,

and settled her down for the night.

By the time I was ready to take her tray down,

the church clock was beginning to strike 12:00.

I had some sound coming from the cockwell's room

as I passed, but nothing out of the ordinary.

I was about halfway down the stairs, when.

[Crashing]

[Woman screaming]

- Oh! - [Clattering]

[Dramatic music]

[Screaming]

[Busby] Whatever's happened, miss deane?

It's all right, Mr. Busby,

there's nothing to worry about.

[Woman screaming]

They all left early next day.

I could hardly charge them.

And now there were the repairs

to pay for as well.

[Suspenseful music]

Upon inspection, it did seem as though

the four poster had been just cut through.

It was after three more sets of guests had fled,

following similar happenings,

that I received my third offer for the house.

A Dr. O'Neill called to see me.

Told me he was a member

of the society for psychical research.

That he had heard about the curious manifestations

at the house, and was much interested by it.

So much so that he wanted to buy the house,

in order to conduct

a series of experiments there.

First I was thrilled, and said so.

He smiled broadly at me, and my blood ran cold.

[O'Neill chattering]

[Tuppence] What was it?

What did you see?

[Monica] His filling.

A gold filling.

Yes?

Well, perhaps you'll think it fanciful

of me, but...

What?

[Monica] It was the same man.

The same man what?

The same man that wanted to buy it before.

Mr. Smart!

I remember quite clearly when he smiled at me,

he had a gold filling

in exactly the same place.

Then I looked at his ears.

They were just the same as Mr. Smart's.

A peculiar shape with hardly any lobe.

Well, I'm sure I hadn't made a mistake.

It was the same man.

This Crockett that you've mentioned,

miss deane, he's your Butler?

[Chuckling] Oh, no, I'm sorry,

I didn't make it clear,

no, Crockett is a she.

She was with my aunt for about eight or 10 years.

A middle aged woman.

Not always very pleasant in manner,

but a good servant.

She is inclined to give herself airs,

because her sister married out of her station.

Crockett has a nephew

who she's always telling us

is quite the gentleman.

[Knocking on door]

Come in.

[Clearing throat] Sorry to interrupt, sir.

A Mr. Rush is inquiring on miss deane.

Gerald.

Gerald?

Gerald.

Drove her up in his car, made it himself.

I see.

Well, I think that's all,

for the moment, miss deane.

Now remember, there's no need to be afraid anymore.

Blunt's brilliant detectives are on the job now.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Blunt.

What a wait.

Oh, there is just one thing.

- Yes? - Your fee.

I was wondering...

Oh, strictly on results.

Stop worrying.

You've been through quite enough already.

Hadn't we better have

miss deane's full address, Mr. Blunt?

Oh, of course.

The red house, starton in the marsh.

When will you arrive?

[Tommy] Unexpectedly, miss deane.

But remember, you have never met me before.

Either of us.

Oh!

[Birds tweeting]

[Suspenseful music]

[Car engine roaring]

[Suspenseful music]

[Car door slamming]

But miss deane made no mention to me

of a party staying over the Christmas.

That is a matter for you to take up

with your employer.

Her ladyship made the reservation personally.

Here she is.

And here she is likely to remain.

Thinking of buying it, see?

This house?

The same.

- But hasn't she heard about... - The poltergeist?

Oh, yeah.

You ask me, that's the reason she's so set on it.

Funny woman.

Oh well, I'll be off to the station

to collect her husband, Mr. Beresford.

Mr. Beresford?

I thought you said she was lady grasmere.

That's right.

Born to a title she ain't letting go of

for no marriage.

Money's all his, though.

Now don't you forget, a pot of Earl grey,

and plenty of hot water.

Right away.

[Suspenseful music]

Now tell me again, Tommy,

exactly as the bank manager told you.

That on the outbreak of war,

Monica's aunt withdrew all her assets

in gold and cash, and brought them back here.

So they must be hidden on the premises.

Yes, and someone else knows it.

Which explains all the offers for the house.

You surely don't think she would have hidden them

under the mattress in the guest room?

'Course not, goose.

[Laughing] Then what are you looking for?

An uneventful night's sleep.

Last time this thing collapsed,

Monica deane said it appeared

to have been cut through.

I'm just making sure we don't suffer

a repeat performance.

I'm very much afraid the four posters

always have an effect on me.

Always?

I couldn't possibly permit

an uneventful night in a four poster.

Tuppence, start concentrating

that fertile mind of yours

on finding this beastly treasure.

Now, you are a woman.

A neglected one.

Oh, nonsense.

Anyway, you're far more likely than I

to know where an old lady would hide things.

Same place as a young lady.

Tuppence, really?

Talking of ladies, by the way, how is it

that in our disguised form,

I remain playing Mr., whilst you assume a title.

I thought it a perfect opportunity

to see how it might've felt had I married Graham.

[Laughing] You'll find a lot more

to put up with married to Graham grasmere

than a title.

A lot less, too, if my information is correct.

Tommy, you can be very cruel.

A-ha.

The clergyman's daughter has returned.

She's in for another shock

when she finds out who's arrived.

She's 25, I'm sure she'll manage.

Oh, look, there's Gerald.

Isn't he adorable?

[Tommy] Mm.

Engaged, you say?

[Tuppence] Not yet.

That's our job.

[Tommy] I see.

[Tuppence] Oh, Tommy, we must help them.

We'll certainly try.

We'll have to work fast.

Once Crockett and that precious nephew of hers

get their hands on this house,

they'll turn it upside down

till they find what they want.

Ah, good, tea.

Yes, but tuppence, an old lady could hardly

have dug holes in the garden,

or pulled up floorboards on her own.

I know, and she'd never trusted anyone

enough to help her.

Tommy, there must be a clue

amongst her possessions.

Oh, come on, old thing, I'm starving.

Let's go and surprise our hostess.

[Tuppence] From the very moment

I entered your house, miss?

Deane.

Of course, miss deane.

I felt as though I had come to rest.

Although rest is hardly a word

one would use to describe someone possessed,

perhaps cursed, with psychic power.

Oh.

Crockett, leave the tea, I'll pour the rest.

I mounted your staircase as though in a trance.

And without knowledge,

I was simply drawn to the room

that we will now occupy.

And all around me,

I sense the presence of an unhappy child,

wilful and full of spite,

but in reality, longing for eternal rest.

I say, old, girl.

Mrs. Patrick Campbell had better look

to her laurels.

I thought you were wonderful.

But why...

An impression created?

Seeds sown.

[Suspenseful music]

Oh, but surely you can't think that...

Have you ever met

your servant's nephew, miss deane?

No.

Oh!

10 to one he has a large gold filling

in his tooth.

[Tuppence] And possesses little ear lobe.

Oh.

[Tommy] Now then, miss deane.

Oh, Monica.

Monica.

Can you tell me what became

of your late aunt's personal belongings?

Garments?

There were only a few.

Some were given to Crockett.

The rest sent to various poor families.

Everything has been gone through and turned out.

Papers.

There must have been papers.

Yes, the desk was full,

and there was some in her drawer

in her bedroom, but there were nothing

of importance amongst them.

Have they been thrown away?

No.

My mother is always very loathe

to throw away any old papers,

there were some old fashioned recipes

amongst them, which she intends

to go through one day.

- Good. - Was that gardener

here in your aunt's time?

Is it old frank mulberry?

Yes.

Poor old fellow.

He's past doing any really useful work,

we have him once a week

just to keep things tidied.

We can't afford more.

He used to come three times.

Perhaps, Monica, if you will be good enough

to collect up all your aunt's old papers for me,

whilst we have a word with old mulberry.

[Birds tweeting]

All along there it went.

As far as you can see.

It were all cockerels and peacocks end to end.

Deepest green you ever saw.

Green cockerels?

Topiary.

Like sculpture, it were.

Well, my specialty, my lady.

Proper artist, I was with them shears.

But now, all these old hands

is good for is holding a glass of ale. [Chuckling]

When I can afford it.

The old lady was lucky to have you, mulberry.

Ah.

Let the place go to wrack and ruin they did,

once she were cold.

And those boys from the council houses,

they set fire to it.

But I knows all their names.

Yes, but while she was alive,

she must've depended on you totally.

Ah.

Everything that went on in the garden.

All her little secrets shared with you.

Maybe.

Like the unusual things she got you

to Bury for her.

The box, for instance.

Box?

Yes, the box.

Thank you very much, sir.

Well, let's see now.

Box, you said.

[Tuppence and Tommy] Yes.

'Fraid I can't help you there.

[Tommy] Why not?

'Cause I never buried no box, that's why not.

Oh, but I, I thought...

Potatoes, carrots, fine spring onions,

plenty of them.

But I never buried no boxes.

They don't come up well, do you see? [Laughing]

[Tuppence laughing]

[Suspenseful music]

Oh.

I say, miss deane, is anything the matter?

Partridge.

Beresford.

My wife, lady grasmere.

Oh, forgive me, I should have done that.

Mr. Partridge is my financial advisor

and good friend.

Mr. Beresford and lady grasmere are house guests.

Oh, I didn't realise you'd be occupied.

You're staying for Christmas?

That is written in the ethers, Mr. Partridge.

Lady grasmere is a student

of psychic phenomena, Norman.

Gracious me.

Another one.

You'll soon be charging admission, Monica.

We shall, of course, expect to pay the going rate

for our stay, Mr. Partridge.

I shall be in touch with you shortly,

for your decision.

Good afternoon.

[Tommy] Good afternoon.

What is it, what's happened?

Norman tells me that the bank intends

to foreclose on our loan.

Within two weeks, our remaining funds

will have disappeared.

Broke, eh?

And that, I take it,

is a financially secure alternative to Gerald.

He's awfully clever with figures.

He must be swift to tell a girl,

when she's none left, to be clever with.

Wants me to marry him.

What am I to do?

There's mother to think of, and it's Christmas.

Get a grip, Monica.

You're not alone anymore.

No.

And we mean to get to the bottom of this case.

Now then, have you collected together

all your aunt's old papers for me?

Yes, I put them upstairs in your room.

[Crashing]

Oh!

If one garment is shredded!

[Dramatic music]

The poltergeist up to its tricks again.

[Dramatic music]

Monica, fetch her quickly, please.

Not my clothes, Tommy, not my clothes,

they're all hired and we'd never recover.

Not unless we've taken

to wearing a jug and basin, my sweet.

Your things are quite safe.

Come, lady grasmere.

Settle yourself in here and await the vibrations.

[Suspenseful music]

This way, Crockett please.

Shh!

[Whispering] My wife is just returning.

I must have it.

Tommy, we must purchase this property.

You see?

Confirmation.

It looks as though you have definitely found

a purchaser, miss deane.

So kind of you to bring your housekeeper in.

Now then, Crockett, as you may have gathered,

my wife and I have decided

to purchase the red house.

We should be delighted if you would consent

to stay on and keep house for us.

Thank you, sir.

I should like to think it over, if I may.

[Tommy] Certainly.

Will that be all, ma'am?

Thank you, Crockett.

I'll clear the tea things.

Of course.

So perhaps, miss deane,

if you would be kind enough

to inform the other bidder

that the property is now sold.

Oh, but...

Oh, forgive me, but I do know

what he is offering. [Laughing]

It's a good price,

but I propose to offer £100 more.

Well...

Oh, what is this talk of money?

It must not be allowed to stand in the way

of spiritual experience.

The forces around us compel me

to remain at all earthly costs.

Stow it, old bean,

- coast is clear. - Oh, really, Mr. Beresford,

you have no consideration

for an artist's finer feelings.

[Both laughing]

No, really, I was beginning

to quite enjoy it. [Laughing]

Yes, I noticed.

I thought you were both first rate.

But why did you want Crockett so sudden?

Just to make quite sure, miss deane.

- Monica. - Monica.

Did you notice how out of breath she was?

That proves that she's your poltergeist.

Just had time to escape down my back staircase

after smashing the jug and basin in our room.

But the lights dimming,

the windows flying open, and the cold air.

Crockett's often been present

when these things happen.

Yes.

Well, I haven't worked out how yet,

but the who is fairly obvious.

[Suspenseful music]

[Owls hooting]

[Suspenseful music]

[Tommy] [Sighing] That's the third time

you've been through that box.

I know.

Better move away from that fire, Tommy,

you'll drop off.

Oh, well I'm taking it slow,

because I'm testing for invisible ink.

Shows up against the heat.

Not so far, darling.

Anything in particular struck you yet?

Two receipted bills, three unimportant letters,

one recipe for preserving new potatoes,

and one for lemon cheesecake.

Ugh.

What's the matter?

Food.

You know I can't think on an empty stomach.

Oh, you missed lunch too, didn't you?

Mm.

Although, I must say,

when I think back on Albert's magnificent hamper,

well, I'm quite grateful not to...

Still, look what it's going to prove.

Oh yes, I know.

Crockett's guilt.

Appalling food and no spooks,

a winning combination to confirm it.

I'd still rather have had a good dinner.

Well throw yourself into your work.

Come on, read me yours.

One bill.

One poem on spring.

Two newspaper articles,

"why women buy pearls, a sound investment",

and "man with four wives, extraordinary story."

Oh, and a recipe for jugged hare.

Four wives?

Mm.

Oh, and I put this aside,

because it struck me as peculiar.

Although I don't suppose it's got anything

to do with what we're looking for.

Let's have a look.

Oh, it's one of those funny things, you know,

what do you call them?

Anagrams, or charades, or something.

My first you put on glowing coal,

and into it you put my hole.

My second really is the first,

my third mislikes the winter blast.

Mm, don't think much of the poet's rhyme.

Don't see what's so peculiar about it, though.

Everyone used to collect

that sort of thing about 50 years ago.

Save them up for an evening round the fire.

I wasn't referring to the verse,

it's the words below it

that struck me as peculiar.

Look, Luke 11, verse nine.

It's a text.

Yes, I know.

But doesn't that strike you as odd?

I mean, would an old lady

of a religious persuasion

write a text, just under a charade?

Yes, I suppose that is rather odd.

I suppose that you,

being a clergyman's daughter,

haven't got your Bible with you.

As a matter of fact I have.

- Ah. - Didn't expect that, did you?

[Tommy clearing throat]

Now, let's see.

[Muttering] My first you put on glowing coal.

Luke, Luke, Luke, Luke, chapter 11.

- And into it you put my hole. - Verse nine.

Seven, eight and nine.

Tommy!

Tommy, look!

Seek and he shall find.

That's it!

We've got it!

Oh, Tommy, isn't that wonderful?

Solve the cryptogram, and the treasure's ours.

Well, Monica's.

[Both laughing]

[Tommy] Yes.

Well, let's get to work on this cryptogram,

or whatever it is you call it.

Now, my first you put on glowing coal.

Now what does that mean, I wonder?

And into it you put my hole.

It's pure gibberish.

[Tuppence] It's quite simple, really.

It's just a knack, my love, give it to me.

My first you put on glowing coal.

Glowing coal, glowing coal.

"Quite simple really."

Don't crow, it's just that

I'm the wrong generation, that's all.

I have a good mind to take it

up to town tomorrow.

Let some old pussy have a go.

Probably solve it quick as a wink.

Perhaps you'd like to take it

to Monica's mother.

Or downstairs, to that old ragged Crockett.

Bet she'd solve it in novel quick time.

[Tommy] All right, come on, then.

Let's have another try.

Now there aren't many things

you can put on glowing coal.

Water to put it out.

Wood.

Or, a kettle.

Has to be one syllable, I suppose.

How about wood then?

Mm, couldn't put anything into wood, though.

Well, there's no one syllable word

- instead of water. - [Tuppence muttering]

But there must be one syllable things

you can put on a fire.

In the kettle, then.

Saucepan.

Frying pan.

How about pan?

Or pot.

Think of a word beginning pan or pot

that is something you can cook.

Pottery.

Well you can bake that on a fire,

wouldn't that be near enough?

No, no.

The rest doesn't fit.

Pancakes.

Pancakes, that would do,

no, no, oh, bother!

[Suspenseful music]

Trouble is, I'm so hungry. I can hardly think.

You saying pancakes has rather

brought it all back again.

What a rotten dinner.

Or lack of it.

Minuscule strip of mutton and one veg.

Swede.

Faithfully cooked to an old school recipe.

No potatoes, no carrots,

not even a Brussels sprout.

What's the matter, old bean?

That's it!

The word, I mean, potato!

My first you put on glowing coal, pot.

And into it you put my hole,

my second really is the first, that's a.

Pot a, the first letter of the alphabet.

My third mislikes the winter blast.

Cold toes!

[Chuckling] Of course!

Potatoes!

Very clever.

Only trouble is we've wasted

an awful lot of time over nothing.

You see, potatoes don't fit in

at all with missing treasure.

Wait a sec, though!

To keep new potatoes.

Put the new potatoes in tins,

and Bury them in the garden.

Even in the middle of winter,

they will taste as though freshly dug!

Tuppence, you're a miracle!

[Both laughing]

To think it's just out there,

waiting for us to dig up!

Oh, yes.

Oh yes, but not just now.

The morning will be soon enough.

Oh, but I'm much too excited to sleep now.

Oh, good. [Laughing]

[Both laughing]

Oh, Tommy.

Tuppence.

[Both laughing]

[Suspenseful music]

I still don't understand why that gardener

misled us so yesterday.

Oh, he didn't mean to,

he just didn't answer you correctly, that's all.

What are you talking about?

Well haven't you noticed?

People never really answer what you say,

they answer what they think

you really mean instead.

He knew he hadn't buried anything

out of the ordinary, just potatoes!

Oh, come on.

[Tuppence gasping]

[Suspenseful music]

Tommy.

[Tommy] Someone appears to have

been here already.

But how could they know?

Do you think they found the treasure?

Well, if they haven't,

it was never here in the first place.

[Suspenseful music]

Oh, goodness me, what long faces.

Was the bed in the dressing room

so uncomfortable, Mr. Blunt?

I bet you'll never guess what this is.

A note from Dr. O'Neill.

He's increasing his offer by £150.

Is he, by jove?

[Bell tinkling]

Oh, goodness me.

Mother's bell.

Oh, look at the time,

and I haven't taken her tray up yet.

She's got a Christmas card.

That'll buck her up, poor darling.

Ghost of a chance, tuppence.

A ghost!

The race is on again.

And this time, I mean us to win.

Hello!

Here comes our second piece of good luck today.

You know what to ask him.

Give him the treatment.

Off you go.

Oh, and head him off,

before he sees the kitchen garden

and has a seizure.

[Tuppence gasping]

Oh, Mr. Mulberry, good morning!

Oh, what a surprise,

I thought you only came once a week now.

Ah, I just came for my box, m'lady.

Box?

But I thought you said...

No, no, no, no.

Not the kinda box you was asking about yesterday.

My Christmas box.

Oh, of course.

Do you mind if I walk with you?

No, I don't mind.

I'm just off down to see my vegetables.

[Suspenseful music]

Nothing quite like a Christmas dinner.

Except sometimes, I wish

we could have different vegetables

to the conventional sprouts, the roasts.

New potatoes, now wouldn't they be

delicious with Turkey?

Do people around here ever Bury them in tins?

I've heard that keeps them fresh?

Oh, aye, that they do, m'lady.

Old miss deane, she always had three tins

buried every summer.

And as often as not forgot to have 'em

dug up again.

Oh, in the large bed

in the kitchen garden, wasn't it?

Oh, no, no, no, m'lady.

'Twas just there, by that wall.

[Suspenseful music]

Ooh.

Mr. Mulberry.

That's the Meadow.

[Crockett] That's the wood.

I can't dig out there.

What's she up to?

Soon find out, won't we?

Got to tell someone, hasn't she?

[Panting] Tommy.

Tommy, Tommy, I found...

[dramatic music]

[Coughing]

[Both laughing]

Oh, Tommy, that was brilliant.

How did you discover it?

Monica said that the curtains

were always blown outward.

Normally, with an open window,

the cold air would blow them inward.

I just noticed the central heating vents,

and it all added up.

Masterly.

Thank you.

Anyway, what were you doing?

Getting poor old mulberry

pointing every which way?

You were watching?

Well so was someone else,

at least I'm pretty sure they were.

I suddenly got the most creepy feeling.

So when he told me where he'd hidden the tins,

I simply asked him where the sun Rose,

where it set, and whereabouts in the sky

you could see the plough.

Quick thinking, tuppence.

Thanks.

When do you think it'll safe to start digging?

Not until after dark.

I intend to invest reinforcements.

Monica's Gerald can stand lookout for us,

with the help of one other, of course.

[Birds tweeting]

[Suspenseful music]

[Owls hooting]

Surveillance, Mr. Rush.

That's our game.

Always the prelude to an exciting climax.

Did you see lon chaney in the blackbird?

He was this limehouse thief, you see.

He used a second identity, a cripple,

to spy on the houses he was gonna burgle.

Anyway, one night, after he killed a copper,

he takes up his disguise as usual.

Finds his joints all lock.

Permanent!

It was so dramatic.

I'll never forget the look on his face when...

[suspenseful music]

[Spade clattering]

I never knew digging could sound so loud.

I say, Tommy.

What?

Out here at night, one could almost start

to believe the stories about that house.

[Suspenseful music]

[Thudding]

[Gerald groaning]

[Suspenseful music]

[Twig snapping]

[Owls hooting]

[Tuppence puffing]

Tuppence!

[Tuppence gasping]

[Clattering]

[Tuppence sighing]

Go on digging.

[Man] You call out, you're a dead man.

[Clattering]

[Both sighing]

Damn.

Third time lucky.

I believe the whole thing's a mare's nest.

[Dramatic music]

[Panting and groaning]

Thank you, Houdini.

[Clattering]

[Sighing] Potatoes.

No, wait a minute, Tommy.

They're only potatoes on top.

Oh.

Don't swing it about!

[Clattering]

[Dramatic music]

At last.

Open the loot, Mrs. Beresford.

[Coins jangling]

All she could get.

In gold, I suppose.

Open the other.

[Both gasping]

It must be £20,000 at least!

Shall I?

Please do.

[Dramatic music]

[Tuppence] Oh!

Well I don't know much about these things.

They must be worth another £5,000 at least.

[Tuppence] Oh, and look at the size of them.

Now I know why that old lady

kept the cutting about pearls

being a good investment.

Oh, Tommy, isn't it wonderful?

Now Monica can marry her darling young man

and live happily ever after, just like me.

Not for much longer, lady grasmere.

The sound of a 12 bore going off around here

will bring no one running.

Now, I'll take the cash please.

And the notes at my feet.

[Coins jangling]

[Notes clattering]

You'd better start digging, Mr. Beresford.

And make it a hole big enough for two.

My, lady grasmere,

you're still holding the pearls. [Tutting]

Let me relieve you of them, won't you?

[Albert groaning]

[Gun blasting]

Well done, Albert!

Tarzan the ape man.

Douglas Fairbanks in the black pirate.

Jolly good.

Now fetch the police, will you?

Tuppence, the money.

Oh.

Tuppence, if you really love me,

will you answer me one question?

I hate these catches, but all right.

How did you know Monica deane

was a clergyman's daughter?

Oh, that was just cheating.

I opened her letter making an appointment.

A Mr. Deane was father's curate once

and he had a daughter called Monica,

so I put two and two together

and just hoped for the best!

[Both laughing]

You're a shameless creature. [Laughing]

[Clock ringing]

Hello?

12 o'clock striking.

Happy Christmas, tuppence.

Happy Christmas, Tommy.

And it'll be a happy Christmas for Monica too,

and all because...

Oh, Monica, happy Christmas!

You look...

Is poor Gerald all right?

Yes, oh yes, thank you.

The police doctor said he must have

a remarkably thick skull.

Your brave Albert is kindly driving him home.

He's just a little stunned, that's all.

And So am I.

[Tuppence] Has anything happened?

We're engaged.

Oh, Monica, that's wonderful!

Congratulations.

[Chuckling] First class.

Hold on, I've got just the thing

to celebrate this.

I found something in your cellar, Monica.

Good old Gerald.

Fancy popping the question

after a bash on the head like that.

It shows stamina.

Come on, Monica.

Out with it.

[Both laughing]

Oh, well, I might've known.

Well, it's just that Gerald

didn't exactly pop it.

Not exactly.

I was so worried that when he learnt

the full extent of my new means that...

[tuppence] He'd be frightened off?

Mm, his pride, you see, he's so very masculine.

Yes, I had noticed.

So I rather took things into my own hands and...

[tuppence] Popped the question yourself?

Well actually, yes.

[Both laughing]

Was that too dreadful of me?

No, of course not!

Very sensible.

Girl sees what she wants, she should have it!

Oh!

Thank you.

[Bells tinkling]

Here we are.

Ice cold, too.

Oh, your mother is ringing, Monica.

But I don't think Crockett

is going to answer for a good many years.

Yes, well, I'll just go and settle her down.

I shan't tell her my news tonight,

it would only overexcite her.

[Tommy chuckling]

You know, I admire that girl.

Hardly out from under the strain,

yet able to take a decision on marriage.

Just like that.

Remarkable.

Yes.

Still, you're two of a kind.

Daughters of clergymen.

I should recognise your qualities by now.

Unpredictable, loyal, practical.

Very determined.

And damned attractive.

[Cork popping]

Ooh!

[Tommy laughing]

[Whimsical music]

[Glasses clinking]

[Whimsical music]