Episode 6 Dickensian

I'm arresting you for the murder of Jacob Marley.

-What's he on about?

-It's a mistake, a stupid mistake...

-Come along, now.

-It's got to be!

-I'll get Ma!

-No! No, no!

Please, please! Please, it is her wedding day.

Now, now don't you worry, love.

I will settle this somehow

and I'll be back here to walk you up the aisle.

Promise?

Promise.

Pa!

So, what now?

What are you going to do?

I'll be needing a clean shirt.

Yes, of course.

On Christmas Eve, your employer, Mr Jacob Marley,

was murdered between the hours of 9 and 10.30.

Could you tell me where you were at that hour?

-Out walking.

-Walking?

Looking to see if the market had left anything behind.

I hadn't taken home what I'd hoped, you see.

Oh?

HE COUGHS

Thank you.

My wages had been docked by Mr Marley.

Two shillings.

Did Mr Marley explain why he did that?

He said my work wasn't up to scratch.

Wasn't it?

That's what he said.

That must have made you very angry, Bob.

Yes.

This walk of yours... Did you encounter anyone?

Exchange season's greetings?

Not that I remember.

No-one at all?

THINK, Bob.

This puts us in a very difficult position,

with no-one to vouch for your whereabouts

at the time Mr Marley was murdered.

A man you had good reason to be angry with, that very same day.

You see my dilemma?

I suppose and, yes, I was angry with him for docking my wages,

but why would you think I would murder him?

There was a loan, shown here in Jacob Marley's ledger,

for the sum of £1, 18 shillings and sixpence.

A loan to you.

I say "was" cos some time after Mr Marley's death,

that very same entry had been crossed out by another hand.

Yours, I take it?

I 'ope we ain't missed all the good seats.

Yeah, well, if we do, we know why, don't we?

I told you to hurry up!

CHURCH ORGAN PLAYS

Thanks for coming.

BELL TOLLS

And in his journal, Mr Marley had made an entry

for the evening he was killed,

suggesting an arranged meeting, perhaps?

Just an initial - C.

Cratchit?

Where are they?

Martha will just be wanting to make an entrance.

The department of the detective that I represent, Bob,

has one very clear purpose -

to reveal the perpetrator of this murder

by establishing the motive for it

and the opportunity to carry it out.

The loan you have erased from the ledger gives me a motive.

While the entry of "C' in the victim's journal,

added to your uncorroborated Christmas Eve walk,

provides the opportunity.

It's enough for a court to convict.

I did not kill Mr Marley!

I make no judgment on the rights or wrongs of it, Bob.

My investigation leaves me in no doubt

as to the nature of Jacob Marley

and I can only imagine the strain of trying to provide for a family

at Christmas, under the weight of a loan you couldn't afford.

No-one would blame a man

for buckling under the burden of all that.

When my Emily was expecting Martha,

we were trying to get our own place, but we didn't have the money.

So she pressed her mother's garnet necklace into my hand,

watched me pawn it.

So, you see, that loan was to buy her another necklace.

To thank her for being the best wife

and mother a man could ever hope for.

There's no shame in a man protecting his family, Bob.

No shame at all.

But a murder IS a murder

and the evidence I have is damning.

I'm sorry.

Wait! Wait!

You need to fetch Mr Scrooge, ask him to bring my ledger.

SHE LAUGHS

DOOR OPENS

A gentleman for you, Miss. Mr Compeyson.

Oh.

Shall I show him in, then?

Yes. Of course.

Yes, Miss.

Mr Compeyson, Miss.

Thank you, Mary, that will be all.

DOG GROWLS AND BARKS

How can I...

Please. I...must speak.

Erm, there are things I had... I need to say.

I owe you an apology.

I should never have spoken as I did,

should never have used those words and I can only beg your forgiveness.

There's no need to apologise...

You're too gracious, madam.

Such behaviour in a gentleman is quite insupportable

and it will never happen again.

Now, should I be any possible use in your business affairs,

do feel at liberty to call upon me.

MAN GROANS

Well, someone needed to put some fire in you, Bumble.

I'm all eagerness to please, my angel.

You're all prattle and chatter - all talk and no action.

Act, Bumble, act! Make me proud - earn my gratitude.

And how might you show it, my sweet?

Just write the letter, Bumble!

Win the Board - raise us up!

Gain the position we deserve and who knows where it may lead!

You think that I've got nothing better to do

than to trot along over here with you during business hours!

Well, Inspector!

You may have plenty of time to waste, but I...

Cratchit? What are you doing here?

So, it was you, was it?

When the worm turned and did for old Jacob, eh?

The latest entry, sir. You'll see it.

What are you talking about? What...

On whose authorisation?!

Mr Marley made me the loan, sir.

And you thought to renegotiate terms

without the agreement of the surviving partner?

Then you must surely have consulted with Jacob Marley's ghost?!

Hmm? Is that it?

I just needed a month's grace.

What exactly has he done?

Cratchit has taken it upon himself

to move his debt from Marley's ledger to his own,

reducing the immediate burden and amortising it over a lengthier term.

Reducing what he owes?

Hmm. Increasing it, in fact - by a sparing margin.

-It seemed right.

-Right? What do you know of right?

Jacob Marley had to be dead in order for you to do this.

Well, if you think you have your man, Inspector,

snap his neck and be quick about it.

I'll have to go about finding - and training - a new clerk!

What's keeping her?

If I knew that...

Keep him calm, keep everyone calm.

How do I do that?

Summat's definitely up.

I've got to get Martha to the church!

You must know that's not going to happen.

Mr Scrooge told you I never stole...

He also took great pains to point out

that Mr Marley had to be dead for you to change the books

and that any further alteration could only be to avoid discovery.

I didn't kill him. There is nothing more I can say.

All that matters now is Martha - she is alone on her wedding day

and I made her a promise.

A father's promise to his little girl - that is sacred.

I can see you are a good man.

If you have any doubt - any doubt at all - please let me keep my promise.

After that, well, I give you my word.

I will be back here and you can do your worst.

She's not coming, is she? Why's she not coming?!

-Ma!

-Why are you still here?

He promised he'd be back.

What's going on? Where's your father?

The police came.

-Why?

-They took him.

-Why?

Just a few questions about Mr Marley's business.

-Pa!

-That's all.

-What sort of questions?

Nothing you need worry about. Not today of all days.

I promised, didn't I?

Right, come on, love, let's get you to that church.

What could it mean? That he never actually meant it?

So, you like him now?

He did say he was out of his depth.

He could be scared.

Well, do you want to see him again?

Yes.

Then you know what to do.

Take matters into my own hands.

Boy!

Don't turn round.

She's here?

-You still got the ring?

-Yes!

-OK.

Look at that dress!

It's not the best colour, is it?

It drains her. Washes her out.

I think she looks lovely.

Well, you don't have my eye, do you?

Just one thing missing.

Your "something borrowed".

Right, you get in, love. We'll be right behind you.

Pa... Before...

Oh, like I said - a mistake. We're here now, aren't we?

That's all that matters.

"THE WEDDING MARCH" IS PLAYED ON ORGAN

I'm so proud of you.

Not sure I completely understand this detecting of yours, Mr Bucket.

You have your man, yet let him walk away.

He gave me his word, Mr Venus.

Surely, he'd say anything to spare the noose

and the dance for all to see.

You trust him?

I wouldn't exactly say that ...

Well, then, why take the risk? You pity him?

More than that. There's something about him, something honest.

An honest killer.

Jacob Marley was, by all reports, a bad man.

His killer could well be a good one.

And this you can tell from the evidence?

I can make a strong case, but this...

..invites me to be circumspect.

And will you follow your nose or the evidence?

Without an alibi, I have no choice.

It's not looking good for him.

CHEERING

I promise you this.

I will always work hard and I won't waste money and I'll save,

and then one day I'll have enough - enough money to buy you a watch.

And then you need never, ever be that late again.

-I do love you.

-I know.

APPLAUSE

CHEERING

It will be you next.

But why would you say that?!

Because it needed to be said.

-You were doing so well.

-Have a little faith, Arthur.

Faith?! You've ruined it. She'll not want to see you now.

A note from Miss Havisham, sir.

Oh, thank you.

A moment, please.

'Course, mister.

I am invited to discuss my investment

in the Havisham Brewery...tonight!

"THE SAILOR'S HORNPIPE" PLAYED ON FIDDLE

Table!

Keep walking.

-Not a drop o' gin.

-The Cripples, then?

-Yeah.

Just, just one thing, Fan.

-Hmm?

-I, er, I seem to have mislaid me purse.

-Yeah, well, don't think I'll be standing you drinks all night!

-No.

A bit o' quiet, please.

Speech!

Oh, I suppose, as the father of the bride...

Well, this is just the beginning for the two of you.

What's to come won't be easy.

It'll be hard, it'll be cold.

But there's one thing that keeps you warm.

Gets you through it. That's each other.

Bound together.

Soon, you'll have your own little 'uns.

Maybe even your own little girl.

And you'll hold her in your arms, terrified you'll drop her.

And then...

One day, well, she's not your little girl any more,

she's all grown up, so pretty and your heart'll go again.

And you're giving her away - the proudest pa in the whole wide world.

And you wonder where all the time went. All those years.

So...so remember.

Always. Hold on to those moments -

every hour, every day.

To the bride and groom!

-ALL:

-Bride and groom!

-APPLAUSE

He's coming.

Something is in the air - even Frances has an admirer.

Miss Havisham, Honoria. There you are.

I have the honour of presenting Sir Leicester Dedlock -

a gentleman in whose charming company

I spent many a happy hour while I was in the country.

You flatter me, Miss Barbary.

I rather think it was your presence that brightened our days.

Might we join you, ladies?

Oh, I must be going, I'm afraid.

I have a business meeting to prepare for.

Good luck.

Thank you.

I seen the same thing with old Mr Wemmick.

Grey, it was, like death. He lost the leg, of course.

Well, I warned him, did he listen?

They never do, do they? I mean, I've tried my best.

Maybe Mr Wegg has no need of his other leg?

I suppose - if you've the time -

there's no harm in taking another look, is there?

Oh? So long as it ain't no impogician.

Step right this way if you would, Mrs Gamp.

Oh! I think you'll be most appreciative, my cherry blossom.

Is this the best you can do, Bumble?

Ramblings, meanderings...

Some element of circumlocution, my honey pot, is...

Such shaky, spidery scrawl! How is that meant to impress?

How is that meant to elevate?!

Oh? Perhaps it's the weight of expectation, my pudding.

I can only do my best.

Your best is never good enough, is it, Bumble?

You offer hope of satisfaction,

but, once again, I'm left to minister to my own needs!

I'd better get this back where it belongs before I break it.

Now, what can I do?

You, my girl, can tell me where your father is

and what's really been going on.

DOOR CREAKS LOUDLY

This gives me no pleasure, Bob.

I see that, Inspector.

And, well, considering everything, you've been very decent.

Oh! Look away, Silas, this ain't going to be pretty.

Keep looking away.

Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, mortification!

Oh, God! I'm not going to lose it, am I?

I can't lose it!

Don't worry, Silas. You've got me, ain't you?

I know what I'm doing.

What will you need?

It's dirty work, you know, turns the stomach,

perhaps a little gin before I start?

And Fanny could use one too.

I need to see the inspector NOW.

Look, I'm not going anywhere until you get me the Inspector.

-Calm down, madam.

-You get me the inspector, do you hear me?!

-Mrs Cratchit.

-Where is he?

You can't think that Bob done this!

I have ample evidence, motive and opportunity, madam -

and your husband has no alibi for the time Mr Marley was killed.

He was at home with me.

By his own admission, not all night.

He went out, er, but he was... He was back by nine.

I'd just brought the coal in and I heard the bells chime.

When's he supposed to have killed Mr Marley?

Between nine and half past ten.

Well, he can't have, then, can he?

Apparently not, if I'm to believe your word - the word of a wife.

You have to.

He's a good man, he's a kind man.

There's no violence in him.

He's never raised a hand - not even his voice in all our years.

My husband isn't a murderer!

Madam, there's a caller for you.

Thank you, Mary.

We'll be seeing more of Sir Leicester, then?

Definitely. A man of his means and influence makes an ideal suitor.

You're sure of his interest?

Certain.

He's eager to call on you officially and discuss the matter with Papa.

-Me?!

-Of course.

I have my duties and you have yours.

It's an ideal match and he has a genuine affection for you.

Yes, but James...

Is wholly unsuitable. His prospects are as poor as his character.

His hoped for promotion a fantasy.

Sir Leicester's wealth and connections

will prove invaluable in restoring our name

and interests to their rightful state.

His timely arrival can only be the work of providence.

Better go before I change my mind.

Mr Compeyson!

Miss Havisham.

This is my dear cousin, Matthew Pocket,

-just returned from his travels.

-Sir.

I heard the sad news of Mr Havisham and came as soon as I could.

How fortunate for your cousin.

Mr Pocket is my oldest friend.

You could say he's my North Star. We have much to discuss.

I know we were supposed to meet, I'm sorry.

Think nothing of it. Another time.

Mr Pocket.

DOG BARKS

# Home! Home! Home, sweet home!

# There's no place like home, no There's no place like home... #

Where did you two get to, then?

What's this?

The necklace. Nell opened up so I could sell it.

-Oh, but...

-No.

It was a lovely thought,

but I won't be in debt to Scrooge, not for baubles.

So? Another name off your list, Mr Bucket?

It suits my purpose for now, Mr Venus, that's all.

His wife just lied to give him an alibi and that's rather interesting.

Let Bob Cratchit enjoy the moment.

I have him in my sights and if he is Jacob Marley's killer...

You will have your man!

THEY CHUCKLE