The Labyrinth of the Minotaur Father Brown

A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-Argh!

Sorry, Aunt Flis, I didn't mean to scare you.

By breaking into my bedroom in the middle of the night?!

I thought I'd slip in quietly.

I'm on the run, you see, and I didn't want to wake the servants.

Well, that went to plan(!)

It's only Miss Bunty.

Hello, Hornby. Sorry for all the kerfuffle.

Hello, Miss Bunty.

Please go back to bed. I'll deal with this.

Now, what have you done?

Well, a photographer from The Post snapped me leaving the Night Bunker.

The Night Bunker?!

Ghastly, I know, but sleazy is all the rage.

What's worse is that I was with Tony Hartley,

and now his wife is citing me in the divorce.

Oh, Bunty!

Oh, it's a fearful stink, I know.

Daddy's on the warpath and, um...I was thinking

I need a place to lay low until he calms down.

And where better than with my favourite aunt?

Mm-hm.

Play your cards right, you can be mistress of all this.

Eeh, Lady Davina. How lovely to see you.

Mr Vanderlande.

-Do come in.

-Thank you.

Yes, Dickie, she WILL hate it, but that's rather the point.

Well, I'm glad that's settled.

Goodbye, Dickie.

PHONE RINGS

Felicia Montague.

Tonight?

Yes, of course.

So it's the Mother's Union at 11,

followed by the first Holy Communicants,

and then after lunch the Wayward Girls.

Ooh, and I said we'd call in on Lady Davina,

see how Ruby Jewel is faring.

The baby went to a nice family in Guildford.

I wonder how Ruby will cope with Malmort.

Oh, it's a grim old place,

but, then, we're not exactly spoilt for choice.

Not many are keen to take on girls of loose morals.

Coo-ee!

I wonder if I might beg a favour?

My niece is staying and I wondered if you'd help babysit.

-Babysit?

-Mm.

-Oh, how lovely!

-It would be our pleasure.

-How old is she?

25.

Best behaviour, now.

Davina! I don't think you've met my niece, Bunty.

How do you do, Lady Malmort?

Dickie Windermere's girl.

I know you by, er...reputation.

Ah! And here is Smith.

Oh! And how are you settling in, child?

Very grateful to Her Ladyship for the opportunity.

I spy my house guests.

Will you excuse me while I fetch them for tea?

-Anyone I know?

-Oh, hardly.

Just Norman Vanderlande -

common as muck, but rich as Croesus - and his daughter, Joan.

A milksop, but, thankfully, educated, as I intend her for Bobby.

An arranged marriage? How very Victorian.

Unfortunately, not all of us are in a position

where we turn our noses up at trade!

Smith?

She said Ruby Jewel was an unsuitable name for a housemaid.

And while I'm here I'd be known as Smith.

And I'll tell you, Father, this place gives me the creeps.

It is a bit Gormenghast.

Nonsense, Penelope. It's a fresh start.

A chance to put the past behind you.

Huh! There's no such thing.

You never know who'll come crawling out of the woodwork.

You were supposed to be here for lunch!

I was unavoidably detained.

In an all-night drinking den?

I am warning you, Bobby, do NOT embarrass me!

Mr Vanderlande! Sincere apologies for my tardy arrival.

And Miss Vanderlande. Delighted to see you again.

Why all the formality?

I think you'll find she answers to "Joan".

Davina, we'll leave you to your guests.

Bunty Windermere, what are you doing in the sticks?!

Bobby! Time for bad behaviour. I could ask you the same thing!

-Long story. We must catch up.

-Yes!

Well, sadly, Miss Windermere is just leaving.

Then she must return for dinner, as she's in the area.

Of course. You are BOTH more than welcome.

I'm so sorry, I have an engagement in London.

But if you need someone to make up numbers,

I can attest to Father Brown's attributes as a dinner guest.

Well, in that case, Father, can I persuade you to join us?

It would be my pleasure.

Well, that's settled, then. Shall we?

Mr Van... Norman.

That's the first I heard of this trip to London.

It... It's all very last-minute.

That means you're going to miss the summer fete meeting.

Well, I'm sure you can cover for me.

And what is so important that you have to go rushing off

without so much as a by-your-leave?

It's boring. Nothing that would interest you.

Ah, here you are. Good.

-Ship-shape and Bristol.

-I know what you're doing.

Turning up drunk, inviting the Windermere girl.

Whatever it is you've got planned, you can forget it.

This was your grandmother's.

Seven carats and hideously ugly,

so no doubt it will impress Norman Vanderlande.

You've only got yourself to blame.

Who was it who gambled and drank away a fortune

and then rendered himself unmarriageable

to any woman of breeding?!

How can I forget, as you remind me so often?

So you WILL behave.

And propose to the girl.

Or you will go down as the man that let this family go to ruin.

Anything for you, dear Mother.

I'd better go and see what your future father-in-law is up to.

Let's hope he's not inspecting the roof!

Ah! Good evening, Father.

Er...Bobby will get you a drink.

Thank you.

Duke of Wellington?

Oh. Close, but no cigar.

This is Major General Robert Craufurd, AKA Black Bob.

My little brother, Arthur, was the Duke of Wellington.

Black Bob's my lucky charm.

(Lord knows I need it.)

RAUCOUS LAUGHTER

More sauce with your tart, sir?

No! Thank you.

You must give us the grand tour.

Joanie's interested in your subterranean maze.

Fascinating. Built by the 5th Marquis, I believe.

But why would he build a maze underground?

Because he was as mad as a sack of ferrets and had a bet

that he could build the most fiendish maze.

Modelled on a design by Frigimelica.

Although I don't suppose that will mean anything to any of you.

Architect of the Villa Pisani Labyrinth in Stra.

Reputed to be the most difficult maze in the world.

You ARE well-informed.

She spends too much time with her nose in a book.

She said she wanted to go to university, I said,

"That's no preparation for life."

Depends on what sort of life.

I like puzzles, and would like to see it, if I may?

Well, as long as you're accompanied.

We've already lost one guest in there,

so we don't like to take any chances.

And when she says lost, she means...

Don't stop when it's starting to get interesting!

A chap named Peregrine Goodluck.

Unfortunately monikered, as transpires.

He wandered in during a house party.

Everyone thought he'd left early without saying his goodbyes.

Six months later, they found his skeleton.

The servants think his ghost's still in there...trying to get out.

Poor soul.

Well, on that subject, we'll have coffee now.

I'm sure that some of our guests will need to go.

I asked Bunty to stay the night.

We can't have her driving half-cut.

Especially after last time.

BUNTY GIGGLES

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean no harm.

Please don't tell Her Ladyship.

I have no intention of telling Lady Deadlock.

She reminds me of my mother.

Which is by no means a compliment.

Thank you. I need this job.

At least until I've saved enough money to get back to London,

and my old life.

I'm guessing you weren't a housemaid.

-A dancer.

-Hm!

At the Windmill Club in Soho.

-You won't have heard of it.

-I know it well.

You're surprised?

It's not the sort of place respectable ladies are seen.

That's because I'm neither a lady nor respectable.

At least, according to my parents.

-My parents said much the same thing, miss.

-Hm!

I'm sorry about your baby.

Don't be.

I've plans.

-The last thing I need is to be saddled with a kid.

-Hm.

-If that's everything...

-Oh, Ruby?

Take the stole. It'll be just the thing for London.

What's wrong?

In my experience, folk don't give things away for nothing, is all.

BUNTY SIGHS

Ruby?!

Ruby?

-Any witnesses?

-No, sir.

She and the butler are the only live-in servants.

Also here last night were

the Marquis and Dowager Marchioness and three house guests,

Mr and Miss Vanderlande and the Honourable Penelope Windermere,

who found the body.

Is something bothering you, Padre?

Well, she must have fallen from, what...30 feet?

I'd have expected there to be more blood.

If you're sniffing around for a mystery, you won't find one here.

We've got ourselves a jumper.

She was straight out of a mother-and-baby home.

It wouldn't be the first time, and I doubt it will be the last.

Get a statement from Miss Windermere

and make sure you search the battlements.

Miss Jewel might have left a note.

Righty-ho, sir.

That policeman is wrong.

-Go on.

-She wasn't sad about her baby.

Quite the contrary, in fact.

Unless she's a very good liar.

-KNOCK AT DOOR

-Come!

I take it this is about Ruby.

Mm.

-I wondered what state of mind she was in.

-I see.

She was a decent worker, if subdued.

Obviously grieving for her baby.

Oh. I see.

It's such a shame she couldn't put her past behind her.

There's no such thing.

Something she said yesterday.

-BELL RINGS

-If you'll excuse me, Father?

-Can you see yourself out?

-Yes, of course.

-WHISTLING

-Who's there?!

What's done is done. Logan says...

And you always do as Logan says!

He seems to have more authority than me!

Well, do you have another plan?!

We both know the alternative!

If you're looking for Her Ladyship,

she's out in the garden, having a walk.

Actually, I wanted to talk to you.

About Ruby Jewel.

The suicide.

Well, cause of death hasn't been established yet.

Either way, I wouldn't know her from Adam.

Although it is strange that you knew her original name,

whereas here she was only known as Smith.

And if we were...acquainted?

I'm a widower, and paying a young lady for her time isn't illegal.

Nor something you'd want bandied about

on the occasion of your daughter's engagement.

Oh-ho! I get it!

-You think she was blackmailing me.

-Was she?

No, but I wouldn't put it past her if she was.

She wasn't the kind of girl that could keep a secret.

Nor the sort who would take her own life.

I didn't push her, if that's what you're getting at.

Let me tell you something, one of the advantages of extreme wealth

is the ability to buy people's silence without resorting to murder.

On the subject of which...

..how much do you want?

Call it a...donation.

Thank you, Mr Vanderlande...

..but my silence is complimentary.

Help!

You were warned not to go in there alone!

The silly girl! She must have got lost!

I wasn't lost.

I followed a mathematical algorithm to the centre.

-There's a column depicting the Minotaur legend.

-Spot-on.

As I was making my way back, I heard whistling.

WHISTLED TUNE

SHE HYPERVENTILATES

Someone's been listening to too many ghost stories.

I don't believe in ghosts.

Did you see this...someone?

Only a hand.

-Well, maybe we should take a look.

-Certainly not.

I will inform the police and they can conduct

a wild ghost chase if they're so inclined.

I have served tea on the lawn.

Thank you, Logan.

I am sure Miss Vanderlande would benefit from some refreshment.

What is an algo-thing, when it's at home?

Er...mathematics.

Mazes without loops are known as simply connected, or perfect,

and are equivalent to a tree in graph theory.

I'm boring you.

No, on the contrary, I'm curious.

You must show me sometime.

Sir!

We found it on the roof, shoved inside a rain barrel.

Penelope Windermere.

Bring her in.

We found this on the roof, shoved in a rain barrel.

-Do you recognise it?

-Is that blood?

I'll ask the questions, if you don't mind.

It was mine, but I gave it to Ruby.

How much would an item like this cost?

It's frightfully vulgar to talk about money.

Humour me.

Around 60 guineas.

It's quite an expensive gift to give to a maid.

Green is so last season.

According to witness statements,

you were the last person she spoke to yesterday night,

and, coincidentally, the person who found her body this morning.

And you maintain that you were in your room the entire night.

Yes.

I hope you don't think I pushed her?

No, Miss Windermere,

because she was already dead when she fell from the roof.

Bludgeoned over the head by a right-handed assailant

approximately six inches taller.

The victim was five foot six.

Can I ask how tall you are?

Five feet ten.

And no doubt taller in heels.

Are you arresting me?!

Unfortunately, due to the lack of evidence, that's not possible.

So I'm going to get this blood tested, and if it matches

that of the victim, then I'm going to arrest you.

Perhaps you should search the labyrinth.

I beg your pardon?

Joan Vanderlande thought she saw someone in there.

Didn't Lady Malmort tell you?

KNOCK AT DOOR

Lady Felicia's here, sir, with Father Brown.

And the Chief Constable wants you to call him.

And this is the nursery.

Rather dusty, due to lack of use.

Bobby and Arthur.

My brother.

Is he...?

How old was he when he died?

He... He was four.

I'm sorry.

So am I.

And this is Copenhagen.

Favourite steed of the Duke of Wellington.

Gosh, you really ARE a bluestocking.

Hm. Don't tell my father.

He finds education in a woman highly unbecoming.

My mother merely bemoans the lack of mine.

I think my father and your mother have far more in common

than either of them would like to think.

At least we know the score.

Apropos, there's something I'd like to say.

An heir and a spare and you can do your own thing.

If you get my drift?

Thank you.

Right, well, um...shall we see the rest of the house?

I think you're supposed to put it on, or something.

I can tell by looking it doesn't fit.

Right. Well...you...you can take it to a jeweller, I expect.

Murdered?! Oh, the poor child!

She never struck one as the suicidal type.

Yet Mr Logan was keen to give the opposite impression.

So, a blow to the head?

By a right-handed assailant approximately six inches taller.

Or higher.

If she was killed on stairs.

Excellent point, milady.

Well, that means it could have been anyone.

Well, who would want to murder Ruby?

Perhaps she wasn't the intended victim.

If she was wearing my stole, then maybe the killer mistook her for me.

Oh, and who on earth would want to murder you?

Why did you give Ruby your stole?

The real answer.

Oh, all right.

I asked her deliver a message to Bobby, asking him to meet me.

Your niece is absolutely shameless!

Which is why I didn't tell that to Inspector Mallory.

People were bound to get the wrong end of the stick.

And the right end of the stick?

Bobby's an old friend, and his absolute witch of a mother

made sure that we didn't have one minute alone all night.

So I suggested a chinwag at the summerhouse.

But, of course, he didn't show.

-Congratulations, Bunty, I'm away one day and you get arrested for murder!

-Oh!

I wonder if the police have searched the labyrinth?

Well, that's exactly what I asked Inspector Mallory,

but he had no clue what I was talking about.

Oh. Hello.

-You're back.

-Only to get my things.

-I hear a congratulations are in order.

-Thank you.

Oh, gosh, that is a knuckleduster!

Why aren't you wearing it?

It doesn't fit. I think that much is obvious to everyone.

Well, it can be altered.

Or...

..until then, you could tie a thread around it. May I?

You know, if you dig away, Bobby really is quite a good egg.

Not to mention devilishly handsome.

What I'm trying to say is, you could do worse.

All considered, he is very lucky to have you.

That should do, until you can get it altered.

Going somewhere?

London. Flying visit.

But you've only just got back.

I know, but something came up.

Something, or someone?

I know what you're thinking, but you couldn't be further from the truth.

Well, then, why all this secrecy?

Believe me, if I could tell you, I would.

Oh, yes, of course you would(!)

If I wasn't a nosy old gossip with ideas above her station.

Well, I'll wish Your Ladyship a pleasant journey.

Mrs McCarthy!

TRAIN WHISTLE

Father?

-Ariadne's thread.

-Whose?

How apt.

Lover of Theseus.

She gave him a ball of red twine

so that he could find his way out of the Minotaur's Labyrinth.

Stay here.

Oh, Lord, please, not now.

Need a light?

Yes.

I thought I told you to stay put.

Didn't my aunt tell you? I never do as I'm told.

He's no oil painting.

The offspring of a Cretan queen

and a magnificent bull.

King Minos built a labyrinth to contain him.

That's Bobby's lucky mascot. He never goes anywhere without it.

Close, but no cigar.

More to the point...what's it doing here?

-Where does it go?

-Up.

Is that a blood stain?

I fear so.

So...do we run, or overpower him?

Neither.

My name is Father Brown.

And you, I assume, are Arthur.

I believe I have something of yours.

Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley.

Who's he?

The 1st Duke of Wellington.

No, I mean, who is HE?

He's my brother.

Lab results, sir. The blood type matches that of the victim.

There's something else.

"Meet me in the summerhouse, one o'clock. Bunty."

I think the time has come to arrest Miss Windermere.

He was the loveliest child.

Sunny and good-natured.

It wasn't until he was three that we noticed he was...different.

That while his body grew, his brain had somehow stalled.

He was a mental defective, we were told,

and the only option was a discreet institution.

I visited several of them,

but I found that the children there were...

They were not like Arthur, who was sweet and loving.

They appeared to be...joyless and empty.

So...you declared him dead.

We had Bobby to think about.

Any stain of mental illness would have ruined his prospects.

As it transpires, I managed that all by myself.

We engaged Logan in his capacity as a mental-deficiency nurse.

And the labyrinth for his exercise yard.

Arthur loves it! He knows it like the back of his hand!

The servants don't go near it,

so he can wander there to his heart's content!

You rejected one institution only to replace it with another.

I wouldn't expect YOU to understand.

The difference is, here, he is loved.

Yes. Surrounded by his favourite things,

and the people who keep him safe.

-Ruby wasn't safe.

-It was an accident!

Arthur cries if he hurts a fly.

I think...

Logan should explain.

Arthur gets overexcited when Bobby's at home.

He couldn't sleep, so I left his room to fetch a sleeping draught

and returned to find the door unlocked.

I can only assume she burst in

and scared him and he lashed out.

And then?

I'm ashamed to say, I panicked.

Threw the body off the roof to make it look like suicide.

You knew of this?

Only after the event.

But I don't blame Logan.

He did it out of loyalty.

The scandal would be ruinous.

They'd lock Arthur up with the criminally insane.

We no longer have a choice.

Ahem!

That's it, it's over.

Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to telephone the police myself.

I'd rather they hanged him.

At least it would be quick.

Um...may I?

Excuse me.

Ah!

It puts pay to my arranged marriage.

Just as I was starting to like the girl.

Hello again, Arthur.

Now, I was wondering...

..if you like sherbet lemons?

Ah, yes.

Tea-time!

You shouldn't be here.

I wanted to ask Arthur what had happened.

You can't ask him questions.

He's got the mental age of an infant.

Then he doesn't have the wherewithal to lie.

Did a girl come in here?

Were you frightened?

Did you hit her?

You can't give credence to anything he says.

When I chanced into this room,

Arthur hid himself behind the curtains.

When Ruby did the same, we're expected to believe that Arthur

took a poker and brutally clubbed her to death.

Steady on, mate, I'm not going to hurt you.

And I think she discovered Arthur's existence

and threatened to tell.

You...should not be up here.

What's the story with him?

None of your business.

You know, I thought this place was weird, but a lunatic in the attic?

Go!

All right, I'm going.

Oh!

That's hardly a motive for murder.

No. But money is.

Lady Malmort pays you handsomely for your...discretion.

So handsomely that you can afford

to retain the services of a stockbroker.

If Arthur's existence was revealed, all that would end.

You think anyone would question my account

over that of a mental defective?

No.

Which is why you need to tell the truth, and save your soul.

Lest this poor innocent is condemned to a living hell.

Lend credence to this fairy tale when there's no proof?

Well, the proof is right before us.

Would you care for another one?

Arthur's left-handed.

Ruby was killed by a right-handed blow to the skull.

A fact of which the police are well aware.

Bunty! Logan, he's our man! Stop him!

Let's see if we can find Miss Windermere.

I don't think that'll be necessary, sir.

Miss Windermere, I'd like you to stop!

Stop, Miss...!

-Are you all right, sir?

-Take a wild guess!

Shall I get some help, sir?

No, I want you to get after her!

Can't you go any faster?

Hang on to your hat, sir.

BRAKES SCREECH

This is all we need!

-Go around him! Beat him!

-HORN BLASTS

Get out of the way! Cut across the grass.

Idiot!

Oh, come on! The jig is up, you might as well hand yourself in!

Ah! Excellent timing, Inspector. This is your murderer.

You do the honours while I arrest Miss Windermere.

-What have I done?!

-Let's start with obstructing an officer

-in the execution of his duty...

-Right, sir, out you get.

..exceeding the statutory speed limit on a public road,

dangerous driving, not to mention your culpable and reckless conduct.

Out you get, come on.

The police said you were free to leave.

I imagine you would want to do that immediately.

Sounds like you've a right scandal on your hands.

I realise this renders any engagement null and void.

800 years of history.

There's bound to be the odd skeleton in the closet.

Of course, he'll have to go.

There are plenty of places for the likes of him,

but apart from that, I see no reason why the marriage can't go ahead.

Isn't that rather up to your daughter?

She'll do as she's told.

I believe...you may be underestimating her, sir.

Come on! What are you thinking?!

That I would like to meet him.

I've brought someone to see you.

Er...this is Joan.

She... She's a friend.

Like Logan?

Yes.

Do you like horses?

Do you like horses?

Well, I'm scared of real ones, but I like toy horses.

And I think his name is Copenhagen.

And this grey one is called Marengo.

I warn you, Art, she's a bit of a clever clogs.

Oh, th...those are spectacles.

He's never seen anyone that wears them.

His life is confined in here?

He's happy.

Would you like to look?

My eyes don't work, and these help me see.

Although if you wear them, I imagine things will look very blurry.

ARTHUR CHUCKLES

Can Joan stay?

Um...

I-I hope so.

Arthur will stay, too.

Would you like to live with me and Bobby?

Downstairs?

Yes, downstairs.

I think we'd all get on famously.

The good news is your father has managed to get the charges dropped

on the grounds you were aiding a police officer.

The bad news is, er...

Well, it's you, I'm afraid.

Well, this isn't what happened at all!

Is Daddy livid?

It was the final straw, I'm afraid.

Your allowance has been cut off.

And it's been decided you should stay here for a few months,

where there's less opportunity of you finding trouble.

What, in Kembleford?! I think I'd rather be in prison.

This is serious! It's the last straw, Bunty.

One more false move and you'll be disinherited.

Besides, I need someone to look after things while I'm gone.

Gone? Where are you going?

Monty has been appointed Northern Governor in Rhodesia.

It was all terribly hush-hush and protocol,

-which is why I couldn't say anything.

-Rhodesia?

I need someone to look after Bunty while I'm away.

Keep her out of trouble.

Rhodesia in...Africa?

What a marvellous opportunity.

Isn't it thrilling?

Finally, a chance to escape the mundane.

Yes. Well, I suppose it's not like there's anything to keep you here.

You will be sorely missed.

KETTLE WHISTLES

FLIRTATIOUS CHATTER

That girl's going to be trouble.

I'm not worried.

Because she's in the hands of someone who's wise and compassionate

and...of the highest moral integrity.

A dear friend, who I would trust with my life.

And who I will miss more than...they will ever know.

Well, I'm sure the Father would be very glad to hear that.

I'm not talking about Father Brown.

And I'm going to miss you, too.

-Goodbye, Father.

-TRAIN WHISTLE

Godspeed, milady.

Don't forget to write.

I want all the gossip!

TRAIN WHISTLE