All language subtitles for Father.Brown.S12E08.1080p.iP.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.HFR.H.264.Hi

It's got enormous potential.

That means such a
lot coming from you.

Do you have any suggestions?

Of course, that's
what I'm here for.

You must read these books.

Take the rest of the
year to re-write it.

Then we can discuss
again in... February?

February may be a little late.

I've invited some rather
significant publishers

to Montague for a
reading next Friday.

Next Friday?!

I've called in all
the favours I can,

Monty's pulled a few strings
as well. Can't you postpone?

Everyone's already RSVP'd.

I thought, with
a few pointers...

That's not enough time.

But seeing as it's you...

perhaps the Sisters of
Aeschylus could help.

Who?

They're called the
Sisters of Aeschylus,

all exceptional writers
moonlighting as literary advisers.

Eva Velasquez, Maxine Mortimer
and Frances Whitfield.

Frances Whitfield?

I've read several of her books,
quite ingenious mysteries.

I shall be reading my extract
tonight, for constructive criticism.

It sounds just like
a Parisian Salon!

Indeed.

A what? Why are they coming?

To help with my new novel.
It's high time I was published.

Father Brown will agree,

he's always been so
encouraging about my writing.

It's an admirable pastime.

Can you attend? Your
thoughts are so valuable.

Of course.

And you two must both come too.

I'd love to. Do you
mind if I bring Edgar?

Oh, no, the Chief
Inspector's already coming.

He's so helpful when it comes to
questions about police procedure.

Such a good egg.

I had no idea.
We'll all be there.

Wonderful! You can say you were
there right at the beginning!

I must go.

Oh, dear.

What's wrong?

Father Brown's read Lady
Felicia's writing before.

Look at this place!

You can't blame me
for bringing you here.

We're not concerned
about the digs, darling.

We're concerned about staking
our reputation on a debutante.

Miss Velasquez!

Lady Felicia! This
is Frances Whitfield.

Ah, your reputation
precedes you.

Is it true you worked
with Agatha Christie?

I couldn't possibly say, we crime
writers share a sacred bond.

And Maxine Mortimer.

How was your journey?

Nasty, brutish and long.

Well, so good of you to be here.

Ah, Hornby. Hornby will
show you to your rooms.

Drinks in the drawing
room in an hour.

Miss Mortimer, I hope that the
Blue Room will rejuvenate you

after your journey.

I can't abide blue.

Oh.

It's a sizzling romance between a
Russian aristocrat and a Bolshevik.

I couldn't have put
it better myself.

Oh, welcome!

Miss Whitfield, Miss
Velasquez and Miss Mortimer,

meet Chief Inspector Sullivan,
Mrs Devine, Miss Palmer,

and Father Brown.

Miss Whitfield, I've read
your work with great interest.

Always a pleasure to meet a fan.

And Monty's a huge fan
of yours, Miss Mortimer.

He boasts about the time
you signed his book.

And where is your husband?

Oh, he's at a diplomatic function
in Scotland all week, poor chap.

Well, now we're all here,
please take your seats.

Do you often advise Lady
Felicia on police matters?

She occasionally pops
into the station.

She pops in!

Would you mind? Oh, yes.

Well, as promised,

an extract from my new novel,

Moonstruck In Moscow.

A train journey
from hell itself!

We're very lucky to
have made it here alive.

Sherman, Miss Rush!
What are you doing here?

I'm here for a
reading of course.

Lady Felicia, I'm ch... Ah.

Charmed.

I'm afraid the reading for
publishers isn't until Friday.

I was under the impression
that it was tonight.

I'm sorry, Mr Quinn.

I'll deal with you later.

Tonight is strictly
a private affair.

Well, you've asked me for
a reading haven't you?

I'm here now, so let's hear it.

Once I've had a drink of course.

Of course, Sherman, everything
happens on your time.

Oh, bitterness doesn't
suit you, Miss Velasquez.

Come on!

Well, now we're
sitting comfortably...

I shall begin.

"Fedora looked out
from the cold scullery.

"Outside, the snow was swirling like
the swirling snow of a snow globe.

"Suddenly, she saw an
enormous man approaching.

"His figure was as wide and tall
as a well-built man of 6' 4"."

MR QUINN SPLUTTERS

"It was Aleksei.

"Fedora gazed at his
sharply chiselled features,

"which were sharp like they'd been
carved by a tool with a hard edge.

"A chisel, perhaps.

"But Aleksei was a
Bolshevik and Fedora,

"a secretly flame-haired
aristocratic beauty.

"What would become of her
if she could not resist?

"Fedora pondered this
thoughtfully in her mind.

"Meanwhile, although
the night was cold,

"Fedora felt a
great rising heat,

"and she wasn't
standing near an oven."

Thank you.

Let's refresh our glasses and
then take a moment to recover.

Well, that was interesting.

Yes, she's an excellent
public speaker.

On that, we can all agree.

Shall we debrief in
private, darling?

My dear, there's
nothing to work with!

Say goodbye to your
good name, ladies!

Who are you?

Maxine Mortimer, Sherman
Quinn, of Quinn Books.

Maxine! My, you've changed.

I don't recognise you.

I think you should
go and sleep it off.

Don't you concern
yourself, Father.

I've been drunker than
this in front of a bishop.

Come along, Sherman.

Soda water. Bishop,
bishop, bishop!

Sorry, Father.

May I speak with you?

I thought you should know,

he's not going anywhere tonight.

Just as well Hornby
found us rooms.

Where would Mr Quinn
be without you?

Hornby, another whiskey!

Neat!

He's as drunk as a
skunk with two tails.

Is it always like
this, working for him?

I don't work for him.

I work despite him.

What do you do?

I'm a housekeeper.

Interesting, I thought
you were a writer.

QUINN: Right, let's
deliver the verdict.

This should be good.

This dreck will be laughed out

of every publishing
house in Christendom.

In defence, some of
the writing has...

It is dire!

I mean, are we really supposed
to be fascinated to learn

that Moscow is cold?

It's mentioned, what, 13
times in as many pages?

If you present
this to publishers,

you'll be blacklisted for life.

Well, that was
rather unnecessary.

Even I knew it weren't great.

This is the opinion
of one publisher.

And anything good Quinn
Books ever published

was chosen by Mr Quinn Sr.

He's only been
dead for two months

and the place is already
going to the dogs.

Oh, no, please, please, please,

there'll be enough room for
toadying at the memorial.

Can we please get back
to the task in hand?

Constructive criticism.

Oh, yes, please.

Some of the description
shows promise.

But the details of the
setting need a lot of work.

You could look at the
similes in particular.

I couldn't agree more, Ms Rush.

The characters obviously
require attention.

Does anybody have
anything positive to say?

There weren't any errors
in police procedure.

Oh, that's something at least.

In the time we have...
Which isn't much.

We can fix it.

Thank you.

We all agreed you
were in fine voice.

To be quite frank, Father, I
don't know what I would have done

without your solitary
face of encouragement.

It was promising.

And I'm sure that the Sisters
of Aeschylus can help.

Indeed.

Miss Velasquez has even
offered to open proceedings

with a reading of her own.

And Laurel's asked me
to come back tomorrow

for an introduction
to creative writing.

Me. Well, then, you must.

Writing really does
fire up one's soul.

I'm going to be working in
the library all morning.

Tell everyone I'm not to
be disturbed. Yes, m'lady.

I'll take breakfast and
lunch at my desk, and snacks.

I have such a lot to do today!

Write from the heart.

Write from the soul.

Morning.

Aargh!

In nomine patris et
filii et spiritus sancti.

Foam at the mouth suggests
cyanide poisoning,

most likely from the whiskey.

£35 exactly, sir.

Curious.

Scraps of paper.

Yes. Goodfellow, would you mind?

Naturally, everything
will come to light during

our police
investigation, Father.

Naturally.

Like this, perhaps?

Yes, exactly like this.

One monogrammed signet ring.

Looks like our
victim's very own.

Sergeant, we need to find out

who Mr Quinn was
drinking with last night.

Well spotted, Father.

What a shame about your reading,

we were so looking
forward to it.

Yes, it was the
wise thing to do.

Such a shame.

And with more time, you can
re-write as we discussed.

That's settled, then.

And I'd be happy to offer
a publisher's perspective.

Anything I can do to
work with the Sisters.

We are strictly a
trio of writers,

we do not need any
external assistance.

Oh.

It transpires that Monty told
the diplomats that my novel

was an homage to
Russian literature.

Why would he say that?

Because that's what I told him.

The Russian ambassador
is on his way.

He's in the air.

Then... there isn't
a second to waste.

Lady Felicia, you have
a way of saying things

are like things that
they already are.

Your similes are same-iles.

This is like having a photograph
next to the real thing.

It adds nothing.

You see?

So I want you to describe
these pictures to your partner,

but add something with
every description.

You could say...

Erm...

The sea is as blue as the sky.

Ha.

Good. Or...

the sea sparkles like
a carpet of sapphires.

Oh! See the difference?

Try it.

The lights sparkle like jewels.

The palm trees are wafting...

like leafy trees.

Be free.

More, more.

So, your first
writing assignment.

I'd like you to write a poem.

Me? Why?

You know it's my job
to spot talent, right?

No.

Well, it is.

I used to help Sherman's father find
new writers, nurture their work.

What'll happen to
your job now, then?

Who knows? But whatever happens,

I can still spot talent.

One poem, any
form, due tomorrow.

Flowers bloom in an
explosion of colour.

Waltzers spin like
whirling dervishes.

Thank you. Very good.

Lady Felicia, the birds
fly in the sky like, what?

Bats.

You're thinking! That's good.

Next, a new exercise.

Chief Inspector?
How can we help you?

We'd like to speak
with Miss Velasquez.

Yes?

You told us you didn't meet
with Mr Quinn in the library.

But you were heard arguing with
him. Surely that's not enough...

Do you smoke this brand
of cigarettes? So?

Butts were found in the library.

We know the ashtray was
cleared after dinner.

Which puts you at the scene
at the time in question.

Eva Velasquez, I'm
arresting you on suspicion

of the murder of Sherman Quinn.

Why did you lie?

I was so afraid.

Yes.

Hanging concentrates
the mind wonderfully.

A frightening prospect.

Hanging doesn't frighten me.

It's quick. Why do you say that?

I've written things.

Against Trujillo.

It's not safe under
the dictatorship.

If I'm sent back...

it won't be quick.

You argued with Mr Quinn?

I wanted him to release me from
my contract. And he wouldn't?

It was his father's
contract, before he died.

When Sherman took over the
company, he wouldn't publish me

or let me go.

There was a ring found in
the library, on a chain,

engraved with the initials SQ.

Does that mean anything to you?

Frances' necklace.

Do you know why it was
left in the library?

Frances was often
at Quinn Books.

There were rumours.

I don't know who
did this, Father,

but you have to
believe it wasn't me.

I believe you.

I can't go back. No.

And I will do everything in my power
to ensure that that does not happen.

Miss Whitfield?

Father.

May I ask...

how well did you know Mr Quinn?

Sherman? We were good friends,

but I'm friends with
lots of publishers.

There was a signet ring found
in the library, on a gold chain,

which I believe you
were wearing last night?

The chain was broken.

Sherman took it back
rather forcefully.

Did he hurt you?

Only my feelings.

We were close once.

Ancient history.

And yet you still wore his ring?

It was all I had of him.

He didn't realise I'd kept it.

You must have been angry when he
took the ring back so callously.

More sad than angry.

I couldn't hurt Sherman, if
that's what you're inferring.

I still love him.

Loved him.

If you'll excuse me,

without Miss Velaquez, we've
rather got our work cut out for us.

Quite.

Both Miss Whitfield and Miss
Velaquez were alone with the victim.

So one of those two
poisoned the whiskey?

If that's how the
poison was administered.

Any one of the guests could
have entered the library.

And there is the curious
matter of the £35

found in Mr Quinn's jacket.

But that's what I
paid Miss Mortimer.

Ah, Lady Felicia.

Now, we've decided I'll
give the first reading

but the main thing is getting
your extract up to scratch.

Miss Rush will be our guinea
pig publisher, so to speak.

I just want to help
in any way I can.

It's all hands on deck.

But be prepared, I
run a tight ship.

You do? I do.

Come with me.

You've a strict timetable,
with assigned activities

and constructive criticism
with Miss Mortimer and I.

Oh, I must phone Mrs
Willis about the buffet!

And there's something
I need to attend to.

Excuse me, Miss Whitfield.

Well, this is a good
start, isn't it?

Oh, no, this part's not for you.

You're going downstairs.

Downstairs?

That's right.

Surely you can't be serious?

"Fedora felt a
great heat rising,

"and she wasn't
standing near the oven."

Look around. Do you
see an oven? No.

That's because a scullery
is devoted to washing.

You need to get to
grips with your setting.

Soak it all in.

Well, don't just stand there!

Many hands make light work!

No, no.

Fedora toils alone.

Miss Mortimer?

May I?

Lady Felicia paid you £35,

which was the exact sum found
on Sherman Quinn's body.

What are you implying?

Well, Sherman Quinn said you'd
changed since you last met.

And when Lady Felicia mentioned
that Monty had met you,

you looked fearful.

So I'd like to know
who you really are.

It would help Miss Velasquez.

Maxine and I were in love.

We lived together,
we wrote together.

We were very much alike.

But she hated public attention

so I used to go to literary
events in her name.

Over time, I became
Maxine Mortimer.

In public at least.

So, this arrangement
was mutually agreed?

When Maxine died,

she said I deserved to keep
the name we'd built together.

That I must keep on publishing.

But you did not do so?

I daren't let anyone
even read my work.

I'm not sure I could
live up to her name.

The royalties were dwindling

but Sherman still demanded
that I pay him everything.

He was blackmailing you.

I couldn't afford to pay him
but I couldn't bear a scandal.

So you needed a way out.

I'm not responsible
for his death, Father.

I would have died for Maxine

but I wouldn't kill for her.

Don't give away my position!

I wouldn't dream of it.

Miss Whitfield's schedule
not to your liking?

It's draconian!

My hands are in tatters,

I cracked a casserole dish
and I haven't written a word.

What was I thinking?

I wondered what brought this on.

Oh, I don't know.

You see, Monty and I have been
getting on so well recently.

I'm glad to hear it.

It's wonderful.

But he's so terribly important,

you see, and I just felt
that I ought to be too.

I can think of a few people to whom
you are already terribly important.

I just wanted to be
known for something,

out in the world.

Is that very foolish of me?

I think it's admirable that you
are exploring your God-given gifts.

Thank you, Father.

You've read my
writing, haven't you?

It's not that bad, is it?

Chief Inspector Sullivan?

Father.

Lady Felicia, your guests are
free to go when they please.

Miss Velasquez has been
charged with murder.

Surely not!

Cyanide has been identified
in her photographic fixer.

What will happen to her?

If she's found guilty,
she'll be deported.

That would place
her in grave danger.

I do not believe
that she is guilty.

Belief is more your
area than mine, Father.

Based on the evidence,
a charge had to be made.

Lady Felicia! I see
that glass in your hand.

You're late for Miss
Mortimer's lesson on character.

And bring the gentleman,
the dapper one.

This is a novel about passion.

An aristocrat...

and a Bolshevik.

I ought to be going. Nonsense.

Despite being
diametrically opposed,

they are drawn to each
other like magnets.

Aleksei, take her in your arms.

I don't think this is quite...

It is an exercise.

Explore it.

Aleksei.

I can't do this.

Stay with it, respond to her.

Fedora, let us feel your desire.

You wouldn't want me
if you knew my secret.

Ah, don't get into plot,
stay with the passion.

Sorry.

Aleksei.

That's it.

Aleksei, look into her eyes.

Stay with it.

Oh, Fedora.

Oh!

That really takes the biscuit!

Oh, no, thanks, I'm full.

There I am, arranging
food for our wedding,

meanwhile Edgar and Lady
Felicia are in there canoodling.

If you ask me, I don't think
there's anything between them.

I shan't be made to feel like
a hanger on with my own fiance!

Isabel? Edgar.

I...

was just leaving.

What was that about?

No idea, sorry.

Have you got any
ideas for poems?

Miss Mortimer tells me
you've had a breakthrough?

Yes, after all my time in
the scullery, I thought,

why not write from
Fedora's perspective?

Excellent. The first
person is so direct.

I agree.

It's a big change but you
can write through the night.

An example, as promised, a few
pages I wrote in the first person.

We'll hear the re-written
story first thing,

last-minute edits before
our guests arrive.

I've chosen a piece
to read as an opener.

Will you excuse me, I
need to make a phone call.

We'll see you tomorrow
for the reading?

I wouldn't miss
it for the world.

I spoke to Sister
Boniface, at St Vincent's,

and she was extremely helpful.

What's that?

I found it in the fireplace
next to Mr Quinn's body.

Before he died, he was reading.

Then he threw the
papers on the fire.

This is a fragment.

Miss Palmer, is there any
caustic soda under the sink?

I think so.

And glass of water, please.

Iron tablets,

from the medicine cupboard.

The caustic soda,

otherwise known as
sodium hydroxide...

when mixed with cyanide...

turns Prussian blue.

The paper was poisoned. Mmm.

That writing...

it's Laurel's.

"I felt the familiar
heat rising,

"but there was no more
of an oven in my midriff

"than there was
in the scullery."

You've made it worse.

Poppycock!

You could read something
one of us has written.

No-one would have to know.

I'd never put my name to
something I haven't produced,

I do have some pride.

What else can we do? They'll
be here in a couple of hours.

Well, make it better,
like you said we could.

There isn't time.

Our reputation's on the
line as well, you know.

If you just read
something of ours,

you can have all the praise
and we can all save face!

I don't want praise
for the sake of it!

If this is the best you can do,
consider me officially unimpressed!

Miss Rush? Yes?

I am very grateful to you.

Miss Palmer is becoming
an avid writer.

She's showing promise.

We need to ask you something.

The night Mr Quinn died, he
said, "I'll deal with you later."

What did he mean by that?

Sherman had quite the temper.

You value your job at Quinn
Books very highly, don't you?

If Mr Quinn dismissed you...?

You can't be
suggesting that I...

Well, did you? No!

But you are right,

he did sack me.

From the library fireplace.

It's your handwriting, laced
with cyanide, I believe.

The page is from my day book?

I record everything that
happens at Quinn Books.

All these pages were torn
out, I thought it was Sherman.

Why did you think it was him?

They were all my notes
about Mr Quinn's death.

That was Sherman's father.

It was a heart attack, sudden.

But the strange thing was,

I found his medicine
in Sherman's briefcase.

His father always had his
heart medicine with him.

What was Mr Quinn Sr's name?

Samuel Quinn.

Of course it was.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry, we didn't
mean to offend.

Is it time?

Yes, I'd say so.

The ambassador's
in the front row.

Then lead the way.

Miss Whitfield,
may I have a word?

Father, can't it wait?
We're about to go through.

I'm afraid not.

I hope we can keep
this brief, Father.

When did you fall in
love with Samuel Quinn?

I'm sorry?

The ring, the initials?

It was a gift from
Sherman's father.

I don't quite follow.

When Sherman mentioned
his father's memorial,

I could not help
notice your reaction.

Presumably because that was
the first you'd heard of it?

So you decided to consult
the incomparable Miss Rush's

day book to find out the date.

And you found something else.

It must have been very
hard, mourning alone.

It didn't make sense, Samuel
always had his heart medicine.

When I read those entries...

it all made perfect sense.

Samuel and I were so close,
he told me everything.

He told me when he'd finally
threatened to cut that foolish boy

out of his will.

Poisoning the top-right corners was
a plan worthy of a crime writer.

That does sound like
fiction, Father.

You knew that Miss Velasquez had
cyanide in her photographic kit.

You knew Mr Sherman's habit
when reading unbound pages.

And you believed that
he was responsible

for his father's death.

There's no doubt.

If it weren't for him,
Samuel would be alive today.

So you confronted him.

There are dates and times
of all the arguments,

and she found his medicine
in your possession.

Give those to me. Is it
true? Did you take it?

What's it matter to you?

HE CHUCKLES BITTERLY

So you were his fancy woman?

I loved him!

If you did anything to harm
Samuel, I've a right to know.

Nobody can prove
that I did anything.

Still, if I were you, I'd
burn these after reading.

You knew that Sherman
would seal his own fate...

and destroy the evidence.

So you left him to die.

HE CHOKES

Just like he left
his poor father.

Samuel's life was worth
a thousand of his.

And what is Miss
Velasquez's life worth?

Eva won't be found guilty.

But if she is, you know
what she would suffer.

I never meant for her
to take the blame.

You must confess.

To save her life and
your immortal soul.

I can't, Father.

No.

Confess.

And repent.

It is the only way that
you will find peace

and be reunited with Samuel.

Where on Earth is Frances?

I could warm them up for you.

Oh, thank goodness!

I won't be able to do
my reading, darling.

Why ever not?

Something I must do for Eva.

No...

Samuel always told
me you'd go far.

Look after the other
Sisters for me, won't you?

Frances?

You must give your work to
the world now, it's good.

Maxine would be proud.

Sorry to interrupt.

Father Brown said you'd
like a word, Miss Whitfield?

Yes, that's right.

Shall we?

Good luck, darlings!

What did she mean,
"Maxine would be proud"?

Thank you, all.

It's an honour to stand
before such eminent guests.

When I invited you all here, I
had no idea what lay before me.

And although I may not be
the writer that I hoped...

this extract is the best

that I can offer you today.

"It's the ordinary life that
leaves the lasting impression.

"Not carved in
stone but fleeting,

"like his footsteps in the snow.

"I wanted to lay my
heel to his heel,

"his toe to my toe.

"And if I could, I
would live here forever

"and remake the same imprints
in every new snowfall,

"telling every passer-by
that the man I loved,

"who was so tragically
torn from me,

"was once here by my side."

APPLAUSE

Although I'm proud to read
these words to you today,

they are not mine.

I've come to realise
that I am not a writer.

These words belong
to Maxine Mortimer,

who is returning to the spotlight
after a recent sabbatical.

Welcome back, Miss Mortimer.

They're waiting for you.

Well done!

The Russian ambassador
was most impressed.

Crisis averted.

Well, I can't thank you enough,
I have been offered a deal.

Several deals in fact.

Very well deserved.

I'll send you all signed copies.

It is a shame that
Frances can't be here.

Guess what?

I shared Brenda's poem
with some publishers.

It's going in an
anthology of light verse.

I'm going to be published!

Your work with Miss
Palmer is most impressive.

Perhaps being a writer isn't
a prerequisite after all.

For being a Sister of Aeschylus?

On a trial basis at first.

But now I do see the value
of a publisher's perspective.

Thank you, thank you, Padre!

Gracias, thanks, de
verdad! You're welcome.

I'm so happy you're
back, Miss Velasquez.

Me too.

How did it go?

Let's get you inside, the
others will want to see you.

Thank you so much for getting
her back safe and sound.

I've seen enough of this.

Isabel? I do have
eyes, you know!

I saw you both together
in the great hall.

Oh...

That was merely a
character exercise.

Yes, which I really,
really didn't want to do.

Isabel, nobody could
hold a candle to you.

Well, that is
reassuring to hear.

Mrs Devine, I am mortified that
I gave you the wrong impression.

Please let me make it
up to you. It's fine.

I could help with the wedding!

You'd love that,
wouldn't you Mrs D?

There's really no need.

Not another word! I
may not be a writer

but I certainly know
how to put on a good do.

And we must all use our God-given
talents, isn't that right, Father?

Yes.

Well, then it's settled!

And we will make it the best wedding
that Kembleford has ever seen!

How kind.