Original subtitles

'I'm telling you for the first and last time,

'never come here like this again.'

'Are you out of your mind? Never come here again like this!'

'She died the same painful death my father did.'

But none of you know what really caused it.

'Arsenic. Signed - Isabel Collard.'

On the grounds that you did unlawfully

and maliciously administer poison to one Roger Vandervent

with intent to cause his death.

'Well, there you have it, Sir Charles.'

Most illuminating.

However, for a family with so few secrets from each other

there can be only one source of information about these letters.

Their good lady authoress herself,

Mrs Collard - Isabel.

What do you make of her chances? I'm not a bookmaker.

Well, shall we...

Here we are, Robert - your very own key.

You're late.

Do you feel all right?

How do you think I feel?

Isabel could die, while we sit here

eating breakfast, lunch and wretched dinner.

How shall we help her?

Don't any of you know anything that may help her at her trial?

What about those letters Sir Charles spoke of? What was in them?

Nothing to your taste, I fancy. What do you think, George?

I neither know nor care. Who knows what filth my wife may have written.

George, please! How can you say that?

Because Isabel was a common whore.

How dare you! Paul! Paul!

She has made her bed, and now she must lie in it.

My dear Beatrice, trust you to say it with a cliche.

Only, for once,

the cliche is not only apt, but witty.

Funny, is it, Uncle George?

Don't you people care at all?

Young man, there is nothing we can do about this mess

other than what we have done.

Which is to engage for Isabel's defence

the most eminent and expensive barrister in England.

So now you grudge the money, do you?

I suppose otherwise you think

it might seep through to you and Charlotte.

Now you will apologise.

To me and to Robert, Master Paul.

Very well, Aunt Charlotte, I apologise.

How could I have been so misguided and so wicked

as to think that my father's death, to say nothing of Stepgran's,

has helped you all get what you wanted?

DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES

And so, to the matter of the letters you wrote to the deceased.

You wrote them because you were never alone together

in the family house.

You sent them to the accommodation he rented,

where he titillated his lust...

And mine.

..by reading them aloud.

And, lastly, you declare that you meant the letters to be destroyed?

Yes, Sir Charles.

However, some of them went astray in the post,

were stolen, and, later, you were blackmailed.

Yes.

You have been candid, to say the least of it,

about the contents of the letters.

Are you prepared to have these obscenities

read out before the court?

Yes.

Have you anything to add?

I... I don't think so.

"I do not think so." Come, madam, you have been forthright so far.

Do not have with me now.

I do not need to tell you that this is a matter of life and death.

I loved Roger Vandervent.

I loved him with all my heart.

I know I've been foolish and afraid.

I've shamed myself with lies and secrets.

But my only crime has been my nature.

Too passionate for the life I should have led.

There's nothing more.

I'm not a brave woman, Sir Charles.

I only hope that what you've already heard

will not dispose you to abandon my defence.

I never abandon anything.

I have accepted your case,

and will fight to the finish for your acquittal.

And when I fight,

I usually win.

'Well, Sir Charles?'

She should be whipped for the lewd trollop that she is,

and dunked in the village pond before that,

but I'll lay my soul to a dud sovereign

that she is not a murderess.

Would you indeed? I thought you told us you were not a bookmaker.

(LAUGHS)

We invited you to step this way, sir,

in order not to embarrass you by arriving at your house with this.

Which, when found in a locked drawer in your late mother's sitting room

had this attached to it.

You will perceive, sir, that it is a letter from the shop

where this was bought, naming you as the buyer.

I see I shall have to take you gentlemen into my confidence.

May I?

Thank you. I have a friend who lives in Hampstead.

Whenever I visit her, I take her a little present.

Some small article of ladies' haberdashery, like this.

No doubt this was sent to my mother by mistake.

She also has - had - an account with the same shop.

My friend's address...

..is 16 Heath Mansions.

I'm sure she will confirm our long association.

I'm sure she will, sir.

Please.

A small token to show our esteem.

Thank you, sir.

(SOBS)

Who is it?

Police. Police.

Just a minute.

Oh, yes, Inspector. Mr George is a regular visitor.

We discuss things together, you know.

Mostly French literature.

SQUEALING AND GIGGLING

He often brings us a nice pressie in token of his appreciation.

Makes things that bit more realistic.

Come.

Beatrice.

How charming you look today.

What is it you want, Robert?

I need you.

I need your support for a radical business venture.

An expansion of Collard and Vandervent.

Is that wise?

Mother would turn in her grave

if anything were to go wrong with the firm.

Robert, do George and Charlotte know about your plans?

They cannot but act in the best interests of the firm.

They cannot but act in the best interests of themselves.

I understand you, Beatrice.

You're a creature of duty. I respect that.

But the life of duty must be rather dull. Let me give you a new life.

Freedom.

Under my new proposals, I could guarantee you a private income.

You need never see Albert Villa again.

What do you say, Beatrice? Help me to help you.

Constable!

Come on, Constable. Good boy, good boy.

Wrap this up, and take it back to the villa.

So, that is apparently all there is

to the George Collard and corset affair.

A mere sideshow to the circus.

Very curious spectacle, sir.

Oh, yes, indeed.

But we must not allow prurient curiosity to dictate to us.

George Collard's dalliances have no bearing on the case.

His wife's, however, form its very substance.

These letters are full of goings-on.

Members of juries do not approve of goings-on.

Even so, sir, goings-on by themselves don't add up to murder.

Some juries will think they do.

GAVEL BANGING

And so, Mr Morley, you are ready to swear that voice, dress,

height, figure and general demeanour of the woman in the dock

corresponds absolutely with the woman

who purchased 3oz of arsenic from you on the aforesaid date?

Yes, sir. Old soldier's honour, sir.

Your oath will suffice, Mr... er... Morley.

The only fault I have to find with your identification, Mr Morley,

is that, by your own deposition,

old soldier's honour and all,

the woman who bought arsenic of you on the aforesaid date

was veiled.

Veiled as to her head.

But not her feet.

Have you seen these boots before, Mr Morley?

Yes, sir. They was worn by Mrs Col...

They was worn by the veiled lady what bought the arsenic.

M'lud, gentlemen of the jury,

we shall later hear conclusive evidence

from members of the household at Albert Villa

that these boots belonged to the accused.

And to think they fell God's trees to print such filth!

Filth and lies, Bertie. Filth and lies.

Paul, I admire the Christian innocence

of your steadfast loyalty to Isabel.

It's time you accepted the truth.

Isabel was deranged with passion. I...

I saw her with my own eyes

in your father's office.

He was furious. He was shouting at her,

telling her never to come here again.

It was a lovers' quarrel.

Bertie, Isabel would never have come here.

She was in disguise.

Some great hat and dark veil.

Bertie, don't be absurd.

Absurd, am I? Well, let me tell you something.

It was the day of the great storm. I remember it very clearly.

What? Oh, yes. Thunderclouds on the heath,

rantings and ravings in the office.

All hell breaking loose on earth.

Where are you going? Mr Bertram, sir.

What? Could you tell me...

No! These are not to go until later.

Aunt Charlotte, you were there, you saw Isabel with me -

the storm, don't you remember?

Vaguely. That day,

Bertie saw a woman in the office.

It couldn't have been Isabel - she was with me.

Haven't your unceasing investigations

caused enough trouble?

But this woman is the real suspect.

She may have had something to do with your mother's death.

You must have seen something. Anything!

No.

Paul, wait.

Going to church, there was something odd. That woman on the heath.

'Mr Vandervent,'

if your invalid father's drinks had been tampered with,

be it tea, whisky, or whatever,

Mrs Collard was in an excellent position to tamper with them,

being constantly in and out of Mr Vandervent's bedroom

in her capacity as nurse, I mean.

The same could be said of every single person in the house.

Yes, but not every single person in the house, Mr Vandervent,

had been out buying arsenic a few days before

at Mr Morley's dispensary.

Whatever anyone did or did not do at Morley's dispensary...

..I for one never saw a grain of arsenic in Albert Villa.

Now, Mr Vandervent,

let us turn our attention to the business of Mrs Collard's letters.

She gave you, I believe, a notion of what was in them

and why she was so anxious to retrieve them

from the butler, Jenkins.

She said...

She gave me to believe

they were highly personal.

That they were...

love letters written to my father.

Love letters written to your father.

Of whose murder she stands accused in this court. Absurdly accused.

For, surely, these letters were written by

an infatuated but not a violent woman.

All I really know

is that they were letters written from the heart, as she put it.

From the heart of a woman in love.

By a fool, then, but not by a murderess.

By a tender and open-hearted woman.

Let me repeat, gentlemen of the jury,

by a fool, a gullible fool.

But not a murderess.

Thank you, Mr Vandervent.

But there is new evidence. Sir, I have new evidence.

There was another woman.

A veiled woman. Objection! Objection!

Just answer the questions, Mr Vandervent.

No flights of fancy, please.

Simply answer the questions.

I think, in any case, that we should adjourn.

Sir Charles? Sir Charles, I have new evidence. There was another woman.

There are always other women.

A veiled woman, who fought with my father in the office

and with my stepgran on Blackheath.

This woman is vital to your defence.

Find her, produce her, let her speak.

M'lud, gentlemen of the jury,...

..these letters are obscene.

Such letters as the vile Empress Messalina

might have penned to some common soldier of her guard

before rutting with him and his comrades in the palace barracks.

M'lud,

as my learned friend has already promised the jury,

there is scandal in the letters.

They are bound - such is human nature -

to find it even if it is not there.

I therefore submit

that these letters be not now admitted as evidence at all.

Mr Makepeace?

It must be clear, m'lud, to any man of understanding

that this jury consists of men of intelligence and experience.

All amply qualified to make an objective judgement on this matter.

Well... they all seem to have two legs to walk on

and a head to talk with.

No doubt God did his best.

CHUCKLING

So, let's be having the letters, Mr Makepeace.

But, m'lud,... No buts, Sir Charles.

I'll have the letters.

READS: "Oh, Roger..."

Ah, Price, Mr Makepeace does indeed wish to see the letter,

if you'd care to follow me.

I deserve something, with four weeks' rent owing.

Mr Wilson, he never came back. I knew he wouldn't.

Well, he's dead, isn't he?

And now, let us sign the contract.

Let me just get these little family difficulties sorted out first.

And then, full steam ahead.

George is the only problem now.

Hardly surprising, given this squalid business with his wife.

I trust that your word will be honoured.

Come, come. What sort of question is that for an old friend?

I've come this far.

Do you really think anyone else can stop me going all the way?

Same again. Look sharp.

"How I worship every part of your body, your manhood,

"as it begins to flower in the crevice

"between the slender columns of your thighs.

"Columns which flare, like those of a temple of Egypt,

"to bear up your ripe, round fesses.

"And the hips, which are the power behind the probing to and fro,

"so strong and yet so kind, of your magic wand of love.

"How shall I describe the feeling that comes over me then?

"My whole flesh quivers. My breast throbs like a drum.

"My belly starts to sweat

"and judder."

I think we have grasped the essence of the matter, Mr Makepeace.

No need to go on and on, sir, like a parrot.

By your leave, just one more passage from the last of these letters.

A letter that I have just received.

I object, m'lud. This evidence is late.

It contains a particular passage

which bears most significantly on the accused's motive for murder.

Objection overruled. Continue. M'lud.

READS: "I have noticed several times of late

"that you have made excuses to postpone or cancel our meetings.

"How can you reject me now?

"Promise me that you will keep our next assignation.

"I will not wait in vain.

"My only happiness is you.

"Is there someone else?

"I demand an explanation."

It is, then, as clear as day, m'lud, gentlemen of the jury,

that the old worm was gnawing its way in

to poison the succulent red apple.

No.

'Life can be full of disappointments, false hopes.'

'She was in disguise. Some great hat and dark veil.'

'Couldn't have been Isabel.' 'A woman on the heath.'

'Find her, produce her, let her speak.

'Find her, produce her, let her speak.'

Steady, sir.

Careful.

'Mrs Collard was in an excellent position to tamper with...'

Careful.

'Absurdly accused.'

'How can you reject me now?'

'Infatuated, but not violent woman.'

'I will not wait in vain.'

'By a fool, then, but not by a murderess.'

'The old worm was gnawing its way...

'The old worm...

'..to poison...'

Come and sit over here with me.

You need looking after, don't you?

Oh, that's nice. Who's that?

You've had too much to drink. I've got just the thing for you.

We can do a bit better than this, can't we? You come with me.

That's the way.

There's a sporting event, governor. Only three crowns a ticket.

Something out of the way, guv.

Hit him!

Punch him!

Push him!

(SCREAMING)

'You care a great deal for her, don't you?'

'No more questions, unless you want to hear some very ugly answers.'

You can have a lot of fun abroad.

Stop playing at Hamlet, Paul.

Your father was my lover.

Lot of fun abroad.

Isabel was a common whore.

You surely wouldn't wish to follow in your father's footsteps.

I feel a far closer member of this family.

Not for me the haunts of Belial and Beelzebub.

My only sin was to love.

Common whore. Father's footsteps.

This family. My lover. Whore.

'But how say you, Isabel Collard?

'Are you guilty or not guilty of the crime?'

'I am not guilty, my Lord, upon my honour.'

You would like something less painful than this?

Much excitement, but no blood.

After you, sir.

LAUGHTER

This is Flossie and Dolores.

Our Lady Of Pain.

And this is Georgina.

Hands off. He's mine.

Now, don't be upset.

You're just as good as she is. You really are.

You look very pretty.

Go and get him.

Now just relax.

Let me do all the work.

Yes...

Yes...

Yes...

ISABEL: 'Listen, I swear it on my life.

'You must believe me. I'm innocent!'

Where on earth have you been?

As a member of our family, your place is by our side - my side.

Hush, woman. I've been slaving over your family business, remember?

Erm, a word in your ear, George.

If it's about business, you need hide nothing from us, Robert.

I need an answer.

Oh, yes. We have here a proposal from Napier Novelties.

They wish to amalgamate with Collard and Vandervent,

thereby relieving us of our managerial responsibilities

and no doubt creating new shares for our dear Robert.

In view of our present circumstances...

..I suggest we decline. Without consultation?!

Well, as your conversations were without consultation,

yes.

Charlotte?

You should have learned by now, Robert,

that the power of the firm always rests in the hands of the family.

There is no choice.

Isabel Collard,

the finding of this jury is

that you are guilty of the crimes with which you are charged.

I therefore decree

that you should be taken hence to the place from which you came

and thence to another place

where you may make your peace with God.

And thence to the yard where stands the gibbet

from which you shall be hanged by the neck

until you are dead.

And may the Lord have mercy upon your soul.

Paul!

Oh, Paul!

I've come to ask for your forgiveness, your charity.

Charity is the old word for love.

As for my forgiveness, what is there to forgive?

I tried to help.

I interfered. Only because I asked you to.

I bungled.

I thought I could help, but I was stupid and willful.

I did what you asked me not to. I tackled Jenkins myself. I...

Paul.

Darling Paul, the letters were bound to come out anyway.

All the gold in the world would not have bought off Jenkins,

because blackmailers always want more.

Why did you have to go to my father's bed?

Would you have come to mine if I'd asked you?

Then you should understand why I went to his.

And yet, I could never have loved you like that, Paul.

I'm deeply sorry if ever I made you think I could.

I loved you.

I loved you like the son I didn't have.

Then I am honoured.

And ashamed.

No need to be ashamed, Paul.

Our bodies yearn to follow their true nature.

I followed mine.

And I am to be punished.

Punished for a crime I didn't commit.

Society wants to see me damned.

And damned I'll be. But at least I've lived my life to the full.

As you must yours.

Promise me.

My only comfort

has been my love of your father.

And you.

(CLICKS TONGUE)

Uncle George?

Aren't they pretty, Paul? So pretty and amusing.

I know.

Know what?

You like to dress up as a woman, don't you?

What about the tram, Paul? Do you think it would sell?

The tram?

You like corsets, Georgina.

And rings on your fat fingers and your ugly hands.

Oh, Paul. I'm proud of my hands, my lovely hands.

And my arms.

I have to shave them so smooth. I have to shave them, you see?

Well, you would, wouldn't you?

Father saw you in the office. It was you here dressed as a woman!

My whore of a wife told Roger about my ridiculous attempt at marriage.

So you killed him and avenged yourself on her at the same time.

You dressed up as Isabel and signed her name for the poison.

Clever Georgina! What a wise and clever girl she is!

A little bedtime drink for Roger, that's all.

And everybody thought it was my darling wife, Isabel.

How could you do it? Not my fault.

Mother.

Oh, she loved me when I was a little boy. Oh, yes.

Georgie Porgy, pudding and pie. Kissed the girls and made them cry.

All I ever wanted to be was like her.

Like Mother - my mother.

But then she turned against me. Caught me on the heath.

A nasty man with nasty habits.

That's when I knew I had to cope with her, as well.

Yes, the night of the birthday party. You...

No, no. Not me.

Georgina.

She gave Mother a little something extra with her supper.

One oyster, rotten.

Just the thing to do. And nobody even noticed.

Isabel is innocent. She's going to die.

That's right.

Isabel was unkind to me.

She wouldn't play with me, but she would play with your father.

Filthy games!

And filthy letters!

(COUGHS)

# Doo la loo la lu-la-by-by.

# Does your mama Want you to know?

# With the stars Up ahead and the water... #

Oh, little Paulie!

I'm really very fond of you.

Georgina loves her little nephew, and she'd hate to hurt him.

Hurt him badly.

Hurt him like his Auntie Isabel,

who's going to get a rope around her dainty throat.

But Paulie mustn't have any ideas about going to the police.

Oh, no, no.

Because Georgina saw him scatter the poison all over the park.

All gone.

All gone away.

I would be grateful, Mr Vandervent,

if you'd take me through this one more time.

Sergeant Davis is having difficulty...

There's no time.

Well, he must have cleared up. This is where he changed.

And this is where you say the garments were housed?

They must have been! I saw him come in here.

We've got to get back to the house.

Just a teeny weeny signature, Georgie.

Paul.

Yes.

I've come with the police to arrest the real murderer.

Uncle George? Steady on, lad.

We're here to investigate some highly perspicacious allegations.

Uncle George confessed to me.

To what?

Sergeant Davis will explain.

With all due apologies to you, sir... I mean, sirs and madams,

Master Paul alleges that Mr George poisoned Mr Roger and your mother.

And that he's in the practice of dressing up in... um...

Carry on, Sergeant.

..women's undergarments.

And what is your informed opinion of these allegations, gentlemen?

This is an outrage!

How dare you come into our home, Inspector,

to talk such malicious nonsense?

At the behest of Master Paul.

And since when, Titmarsh,

has the worthy institution of the Blackheath Police

move at the behest of a lovesick boy half crazed with passion

for a convicted criminal?

My high office, madam,

precludes me from refraining to investigate any possibility

that that criminal might be unjustly convicted.

Do you have any proof? I saw the clothes.

Be quiet, boy.

Inspector, do you have any evidence?

No, sir.

Then I think you should leave at once, don't you?

No, wait.

Uncle George, you must tell them the truth - what you told me.

Well, I don't know what I've done in my life to warrant this.

I have a nephew that lies, a wife that kills,

and now, it seems, that I am a transvestite murderer.

What in heaven's name next?

Leave this to me, George.

Inspector, this young lad is a little... distracted.

It's understandable.

Yes.

Well, it seems an apology is perhaps called for,

ladies and gentlemen.

You will, I'm sure, appreciate our diligence

in pursuing every avenue of possibility. Yes, quite.

Let's get out of here, Sergeant.

The hand!

Wait! He cut his hand today at the warehouse.

Oh yes, of course. The lamp.

Nasty.

Good evening, Chaplain.

One more.

# Georgie Porgy, pudding and pie

# Kissed the girls And made them die. #

(LAUGHS)

(CHOKES)

FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING

DOOR OPENS

DOOR BANGS

I'm honoured, gentlemen.

Your husband, George Collard, is dead. Poisoned by arsenic.

This time I must be innocent.

The Home Secretary is compelled, therefore, to grant you a reprieve.

(SIGHS)

Thank you, Sir Charles.

This was not of my doing, much as I wished it so.

Madam, you are free to go.

Free to go?

Go where?

So now, sir, we shall never know the answers.

A policeman's lot, Davis, is not a happy one.

# Happy one Happy one. #

I swear, it was one of that family.

They all had something to hide. Something rotten to cover up.

And cast-iron alibis, Sergeant, don't forget that.

All this evidence, and still no murderer.

Somebody must be laughing now, sir.

God will make him laugh on the other side of his face.

I doubt it, sir.

If God enjoys something more than punishing a murderer,

it's making a fool out of an inspector.

Yes, Robert, I'm quite clear. When I disembark at Bombay,

I shall be met by the senior Indian servant...

The head bearer. ..of your friend, Mr George Coates.

The head bearer will escort me to Mr Coates.

Coates Sahib.

He will escort me to his estate

where Coates Sahib, who is in need of a wife...

A memsahib. ..his own having recently deceased,

will do me the honour of marrying me.

I wish I was coming with you.

But, as you know...

We have not been friends, Mr Dangerfield.

But you have done me a great service in disposing of me.

In arranging your future.

I wish you luck with the family, Robert, and the firm.

You'll certainly need it. Huh!

WHISTLE

I was sure Paul would be here.

I wanted to tell him how much...

WHISTLE

Don't take him into the firm, I beg you. He deserves to live.

As you do.

Paul! I thought you weren't coming.

What's this?

I want you to know.

Know what?

I love you.

'My dearest Isabel.

'I have to tell you the truth.

'Your husband killed my father and stepgran.

'But there was no proof.

'I could not let you die for his crimes. So I killed him.

'I poisoned him just as he poisoned the others.

'There was no other way to save you. We must always believe that.

'Do not question what I did, Isabel, only why I did it.

'The answer is clear to me.

'It was for love.

'Love of you.'

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