A Night to Remember The Doctor Blake Mysteries

MUSIC

RATTLING IN DISTANCE

Once again, thank you all for coming to this,

our annual charity dinner for returned servicemen.

We celebrate this club's commitment to Queen and country,

in raising funds for the men who fought so bravely.

Thank you, Cec.

Doctor.

Christopher, just in time.

And please, it's Lucien.

-Our special guest tonight...

-Hello.

..needs no introduction.

Hollywood's calling her, but she has decided to be with us tonight.

So, please welcome, performing Electra,

with assistance from the Ballarat Drama Society,

Miss Jacqueline Maddern.

I must be a slave again amongst my father's murderers.

But never, never will I enter the house to dwell with them.

Nay, at these gates, I will lay me down,

and here, without a friend, my days shall wither.

Therefore, if any in the house be wroth, let them slay me.

For it is a grace if I die, but if I live, pain.

I desire life no more.

CROWD GASPS

APPLAUSE

Bravo!

Bravo!

SINISTER MUSIC PLAYS

Lucien, what's happened?

Good Lord.

She's gone.

Please, everyone, I need you to move back.

You heard the Chief Superintendent. Some room, please.

Well?

You see here?

Reddish spots just inside her mouth.

Petechiae. Usually a sign of poisoning, correct?

Yes, that's right.

Are you ruling out natural causes, Doctor?

Well, it would take an autopsy to be certain, but, yes, yes, I am.

Now whoever did this must still be in the building.

We need to secure the club.

If you say so. Come with me.

Jean, are you all right?

Yes, I think so. Mattie, where's Christopher gone?

He's at the bar, but...

I'm sorry, can I help you?

-What's happened?

-It's all right, Lucien.

-They're friends of Miss Madden's.

-I do beg your pardon.

That's Warwick Simpson, her theatre director and Pamela Gilchrist.

Pamela Gilchrist. And who is she?

Her closest friend.

Is this really necessary?

I believe so.

Cec, you know the Chief Superintendent.

Er, yes, sir.

How many ways out of the building?

-Only the front door, sir.

-You've been here the whole time?

-Yes, sir.

-Has anyone left the building?

-No, sir.

-Then stay here.

No-one leaves until I say. You have a telephone?

Yes, sir, in the boardroom.

-I'll show you.

-Thank you, Patrick.

Ah, here he is.

Not quite the evening we planned, I'm afraid.

Happy birthday, Mum.

Christopher, how are you?

How's Ruby?

She's tired.

Have you spoken to your brother?

Doctor.

We've locked the doors. What do you propose we do now?

Well, I'd, um, I'd assumed we'd be taking the body to the morgue.

Securing the club means exactly that.

The body stays here.

-Excuse me.

-Yes, Mr...?

Sergeant, Nelson.

It's not for me to tell you, sir,

but don't you think it best that we move this body immediately?

These people are civilians.

This kind of proximity to death...

It simply won't do. You're quite right.

The billiard room, I think.

Fine.

-You, son, why don't you get the feet?

-Of course.

Thank you, Christopher. It's very decent of you.

Very good, gentlemen.

Take the head.

Right, lift. Right, this way.

Your attention, please.

By request of our Police Surgeon,

can I ask you all to remain here for the moment?

I'll be speaking to each of you in turn.

In the meantime, Mr Tyneman has assured me the club facilities

will cater for you.

How long will this take?

As long as necessary.

Easy does it.

There you go.

You all right?

Yes, of course.

Who was that man, the one addressing the members?

William Munro.

Chief Superintendent of Police.

He's your boss?

In a way, yes.

I saw her perform once, in Korea.

She was magnificent.

How long do you think they'll keep us here?

As long as we need to.

Access to this room will be restricted to police

and medical personnel only.

Christopher was just assisting me.

Christopher...

Beazley, sir.

I'll need to talk to you in due course, Mr Beazley.

For now, please wait in the auditorium.

I was hoping to use the phone, sir, in the office, to call my wife.

Not now.

Hobart and Davis are on their way.

When they get here, I'll start the interviews.

What sort of poison should we be looking for?

Well, without a full autopsy, bloods, saliva.

Well, then take those samples.

I still haven't established how she was poisoned.

Should we be looking into what food she's eaten?

That'd be a good place to start, I'd say.

We rehearsed before the show, but then she wanted to be alone.

What's this?

Actually, that's brandy.

Miss Maddern said it relaxed her vocal cords.

Did you see her using it?

Yes, about an hour before the show.

Ah hour? You're quite sure?

At least.

Right. In that case...

-Blake!

-Lucien!

I'm kidding. It's not brandy. Armagnac.

Not my preferred drop, but expensive.

That could have been poisoned.

If she used it over an hour ago, I can tell you it wasn't.

Ah, my nephew, sir, Stuart White.

-Who's on the door, Mr Drury?

-One of your officers, sir.

Sergeant Davis asked that I let you know he's here.

Good. I'll need you to lock this dressing room door after we leave.

You delivered this food?

-Yes, sir.

-Who gave it to you?

-A lady, sir.

-What lady?

Son.

I don't, I don't know.

Cec, it's all right.

-Let's take a look around the kitchen, shall we?

-Yes, sir.

Can I help you there?

-Hell of a night, eh?

-Yes, Mr...?

Reynolds.

Yes, a terrible thing.

Just as she was about to take on the world.

Is that so?

About to bugger off overseas, so I'd heard.

What, you know a bit about Jacqueline Maddern, Mr Reynolds?

-It's in the papers.

-Right.

Well, at the moment,

we're still asking people to wait in the auditorium.

Look, Sergeant, I realise you have a job to do here.

So do I. Reckon we could come to some sort of arrangement?

Are you offering a bribe, Mr Reynolds?

Of course not. I was just looking for my notebook.

-Right.

-You have a pencil I could borrow?

Hey! Hey!

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

You going somewhere?

-Anything?

-No, not yet.

According to Mr Drury, all the kitchen staff have worked here

at least five years. Nothing to link them to the victim.

Right. And the sandwiches?

-Supervised.

-By whom?

-That would be me.

-Mrs Tyneman, we're trying to establish

what food Miss Maddern ate before she died.

Well, Jacqueline was very particular.

I bought the ingredients, supervised the preparation

and then I handed them to that young man there.

That's the woman.

After that?

You'd have to ask him.

Susan, did you know Miss Maddern?

Well, not socially.

Boss.

Sergeant?

Tried to leave the premises, sir.

Driver's licence says he's Terry Reynolds from Ballan.

Mr Reynolds?

I've got a story to lodge. I'm with the Melbourne press.

The Sun.

-Patrick. You know him?

-Right.

Stay in the auditorium with the others.

Any trouble, I'll charge you with hindering an investigation.

Understood?

Understood?

I'll be using the boardroom to conduct interviews.

Of course.

-Chief Superintendent.

-What?

We need to get bloods and saliva to the morgue.

Miss O'Brien is here, correct?

Yes.

Send her. You're staying.

Mind taking me to the boardroom?

Of course. This way.

I've known her for 15 years. I've been her assistant for ten.

We met doing Annie Get Your Gun.

We were playing sisters. We used to switch roles.

Did you see her before the performance?

Always. It was her routine.

She would rehearse her lines, I would prepare her wardrobe.

Then I would leave her to do her make-up by herself.

-What about before her curtain call?

-No.

She preferred to be alone.

Well, her and her audience.

Did she argue with anyone in the lead-up to tonight's performance?

What?

-Jackie could argue with everyone.

-Like who?

Well, that strange boy who brought the sandwiches, with Warwick.

Ah, Warwick Simpson. He's a theatre director.

She shouted at me for crumpling her dress,

but she didn't mean anything by it.

Tell me more about Mr Simpson.

He and Jackie were close once.

It ended badly, but he would never do anything to hurt her.

Thank you, Miss Gilchrist. There may be more questions later.

Thank you, Superintendent.

Doctor, do you think I might see her?

To say goodbye?

Superintendent?

Yes, of course. I'll be with you in just a moment.

Thank you.

And drive Miss O'Brien to the morgue.

Make sure nothing happens to those samples.

And tell Davis to bring Mr Simpson in for questioning.

Right, boss.

Here's the play.

I'll rattle their cages, you play the caring country doctor.

I am the caring country doctor.

Then it shouldn't be too great a stretch.

I had wondered why you were keeping me around.

For the investigation.

-Mr Simpson?

-Yes?

-I hear you hated Miss Maddern.

-Oh! Where did you get to?

-Looking for a phone to call Ruby.

It's only one night.

How long has it been since you've been back here?

It's been a while.

Is Ruby looking after you?

Good. I know she finds it difficult being an army wife.

You asked if I'd talked to Jack.

-How is he?

-He's working.

Really? And what about that girl?

Well, I'm not sure they're together any more.

-I know she lost the baby.

-Yes. Well, at least he has a job.

You know what he's like.

-What about you?

-I'm fine.

You listen to me.

Don't you bloody well walk away from me!

I'm bloody warning you!

You don't know who you're dealing with, son. This is blackmail.

-It's business.

-Don't give me that. Your boss...

My bosses take this seriously.

Tell me, do the police already know?

Gentlemen.

What's going on?

A trade disagreement.

Yeah, that's right. I'll leave you to it.

Patrick.

Mind your own business, Blake.

MUSIC

Mr Reynolds, do you mind me asking what all that was about out there?

Sorry, Doc, you'll have to read about it in The Sun.

Right. Big star dies on stage. Something along those lines?

What makes you think it's about Jacqueline Maddern?

Call it a hunch.

Let's just say she's only a supporting player in this one.

Rare for her.

Doctor, do you think I could see her now?

Yes, of course. I'm terribly sorry.

Please, come with me.

I ran through her lines with her.

What sort of mood was Miss Maddern in?

Excited. She was preparing for her trip.

-Trip?

-To the United States.

She just had a role in that big American picture

they were shooting here.

Oh, yes, the one about the end of the world.

-The Nevil Shute book.

-Yes.

She made some terrific contacts.

But, erm...

Can I get a brush to fix her hair?

Yes, of course.

Thank you, Mrs Beazley.

Can I give you a word of advice, Superintendent?

It might pay you to listen to what the doctor has to say

on the odd occasion.

You ignore him at your own peril.

Did I give you permission to leave yet, Mrs Beazley?

May I offer some advice of my own?

Of course.

Your son who's here tonight.

How long since he was in town?

Eight years.

And the night he arrives, we suddenly have a dead body.

-Curious, isn't it?

-I beg your pardon.

Your other son, Jack. Quite an extensive record.

He's not here as well, by any chance?

Perhaps we should keep our advice to ourselves.

-You've made yourself very clear.

-I'm glad. Wait in the bar.

I asked her to marry me once.

She...laughed.

Thought I was joking.

That must have hurt.

The dressing room's been broken into.

Her handbag's been moved.

Yes, you're right, it has.

Are you familiar with the contents?

-Yes. Would you like me to check it?

-Please.

Am I correct in saying there's a lipstick missing?

Er, yes. And the key to her hotel room's gone.

Well, perhaps she left the key at the hotel.

Pamela was certain she had it with her.

-So, a key and a lipstick?

-One's functional, one's personal.

Are you attempting to build a picture of our murderer's

character here, Doctor?

Well, we need to consider the setting.

Jackie was murdered in public.

She died on stage.

Isn't it possible the killer deliberately chose to do it

-that way?

-You're wrong, I have considered it.

-And?

-Until we find out more, you're just guessing. Who's next?

We'll rule out some basics. Cyanide, first.

Miss O'Brien, we'll need a solution of para-benzoquinone in DMSO.

DMS what?

Dimethyl sulfoxide.

It's a solvent that dissolves both non-polar and polar compounds.

And it can also be mixed with a variety of other organic

solvents, as well as water.

A textbook answer.

Right, and in English that is...?

Powerful stuff.

How long exactly do they intend keeping her body

on the billiard table?

Not sure. Sergeant?

As long as the boss says.

So, no idea. Dim the lights please, Sergeant.

-What for?

-So I can do my job.

If you're afraid of the dark, you can wait outside.

It's fun annoying the police sometimes, don't you think?

So, what now?

If there's cyanide present,

the solution will become fluorescent under ultraviolet light.

Blood is testing negative.

As is the sandwich.

Whatever killed her wasn't cyanide. Thank you, Sergeant.

So, what next?

SHE SIGHS

We keep going.

So, Sergeant Nelson.

Please, Murray.

You're still in the services?

I served in Korea. Fought in New Guinea in the war.

You didn't seem too perturbed by the body in front of you earlier.

I've seen my share of dead bodies, Superintendent.

I see. And why is it you were in Ballarat tonight?

I'm just like everyone else, Superintendent.

I was here for the show.

Jean?

Jean?

The interview. It's nothing, Lucien. I'm fine.

-GLASS SHATTERS

-Oh!

Oh, I do apologise, Mr Drury.

Oh, no need, Sue. Please.

No, thanks, Cec, but I'm quite all right.

Just leave it to him, Susan.

You can leave me alone. You have done quite enough, thanks, Patrick.

Ah! Jesus, woman. Don't be so damned silly.

Silly?

I didn't mean that.

I'm not the one who's being silly, Patrick, am I?

Do you want me to go on?

No, didn't think so.

-Patrick, let me take a look at that hand.

-Go away, Blake.

Perhaps it's time you told the police.

What do you think?

Now, come on, show me that hand of yours.

How long have you been having an affair with Jacqueline Maddern?

I wouldn't class it as an affair.

It was a few years ago.

Jacqueline needed an investor for one of her shows.

She was grateful.

I was flattered.

But she called it to an end as quickly as it started.

It was just a fling for her.

And now Justin Reynolds is writing an expose.

Justin Reynolds works for The Sun.

They're against me for radio licences right across the state.

Patrick, when Susan arranged for Jacqueline to be

a part of this evening's event...

Coincidence.

I tried to discourage her.

Susan didn't know?

Not until tonight...

when Mr Reynolds so helpfully informed her.

Was Miss Maddern blackmailing you, Mr Tyneman?

What?

-No.

-Really?

-No.

Demanding payment to keep your little secret?

-Superintendent, I think perhaps...

-That's enough, Blake.

The only attempt to blackmail me has been by Justin Reynolds

and his employers.

Did you have any contact with Miss Maddern before the show?

I sent her flowers. But that's all.

Thank you, Mr Tyneman. We'll be talking again, I'm sure.

Patrick? Patrick!

Not another word.

I wouldn't dream of it.

Superintendent, do you honestly believe Patrick killed her?

He had reasonable motive.

So did his wife.

-Really?

-Apparently so.

MUSIC

I am sorry.

Keeping you here like this. It just isn't right.

Please excuse me, won't you?

You've got to understand.

Jackie had her own sense of morality.

Clearly.

-HE SIGHS

-Chief Superintendent.

You understand that I had to question you.

Of course.

You've known the doctor sometime, haven't you?

He's been annoying me since he was a kid. Why do you ask?

There was a view that his services were indispensible.

-That may have changed.

-So that's why we've been stuck in here.

To put him under pressure in front of everyone?

I couldn't possibly comment on police matters.

-Superintendent.

-What?

It was the roses.

I found puncture marks on her chest. Small, certainly,

but if the poison was powerful enough, then...

Cec. Those roses Jacqueline had for the curtain call.

Oh, I instructed Stuart to clear them away, sir.

-When?

-Just now, when the room was cleared.

-Where's he gone?

-He's in the kitchen, sir.

-Stu. Don't move.

-What?

Just hold right there. And be very careful.

Stay out of this.

You! Put the roses down.

What's he talking about?

Would you like to explain why you're wearing gloves, son?

Take him, Sergeant.

Stu!

Stu...

..we know you didn't do anything. It's all right. We know.

The gloves. Take them off.

-No.

-Oh, please, sir.

Stu.

You need to trust me. Everything's going to be fine.

Isn't that right, Cec?

It's all right, son. Just do what the doctor asks.

Let's just remove that glove, eh, and have a look at your hand.

Psoriasis.

You can pop that glove back on. Thank you, Stu.

I think it's pretty clear he isn't capable of this.

Then where does that leave us?

Well done, Stu. Well done.

-Ah.

-What?

Along with fish and chips and camping emergencies,

we've found another use for one of Patrick's publications.

Look here, Charlie.

Here and here. Something viscous.

Mmm, any idea what it might be?

No, not yet.

Well, better let the boss know.

Get on well with him, do you?

The boss? I guess so.

-Why?

-Very different to Lawson, isn't he?

Yeah, you could say that.

Well, better not keep him waiting, eh?

Now, you see at the bottom of the stems,

the thorns have been snipped away,

making them relatively safe to handle.

But up here, well, let's just say young Stu was incredibly lucky.

Those gloves wouldn't have protected him at all.

-There was nothing to indicate who sent them?

-No, sir.

Davis, we need to contact every florist in Ballarat.

It's possible the roses were ordered by someone who wasn't even

-here tonight.

-No, the poisoner's here.

It would have been way too risky to...

Coat the thorns before they were delivered.

So, who delivered the flowers?

I know how we can find out.

Answer the question, Mrs Beazley.

Yes, there were flowers in the dressing room

before the performance, but they weren't roses.

Jackie just grabbed the roses and rushed back on.

-They're a tradition at curtain call.

-Yes, but who delivered them?

They were already there before the performance.

Who else had access?

Warwick, of course, and Mrs Tyneman, and that odd young man.

But I suppose anyone could have wandered in.

Turn out your pockets, please, Mr Simpson.

-I beg your pardon?

-Empty your pockets. Now.

-Why?

If you have nothing to hide, turn out your pockets.

That's the key to Jackie's hotel room.

Explain that, Mr Simpson.

I took it so that I could try and get my money back.

-Your money?

-Jacqueline refused to do the show unless I paid her 100 quid.

Said she needed it for her move to the United States.

Well, she was a successful actress.

Who was always hopeless with her money.

I was planning to go and get it back.

It wasn't...

It wasn't any good to her now.

This all speaks to motive, Mr Simpson.

You want motive? What about Pamela?

-Jacqueline was dumping her.

-Warwick, no!

After all that you'd given up for her,

she wasn't even going to take you with her.

-Is this the truth, Miss Gilchrist?

-Of course it's not true.

Please, Superintendent.

Go search Miss Maddern's room.

Yes, boss.

Davis, find out who bought those roses.

Yes, sir.

Superintendent, I really need to use that telephone.

Mr Beazley, you're to wait in the bar.

You got a family, Superintendent?

None of your business, Mr Beazley.

My wife's pregnant. First baby, and she's finding it difficult.

-Well, have you noticed the time?

-I was expected home by now.

That is not my problem.

No, it's mine. And it'll be easily solved with a phone call.

Please.

-Is this how you conduct yourself in the army?

-Pardon?

Because in this situation, I'm you're superior officer.

And suddenly remembering to say please will not change my mind.

I would not do that if I were you, Mr Beazley.

Fine.

The Doctor's right not to trust you.

Thank you, Lieutenant. That's all I need to hear.

Christopher, is everything all right?

-Why didn't you tell me?

-Because Ruby doesn't want anyone to know

-she's not coping, especially you.

-Why, especially me?

-Oh, come on, Mum. Why do you think?

-I've absolutely no idea.

Well, because you always make such a thing about carrying on regardless.

And you made it pretty clear you didn't have any time for her.

-She's very highly strung.

-She's my wife.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded.

I just wish you would talk to me more often.

-At least with Jack, I always knew...

-Oh, it's always about Jack.

Especially when Dad died. That's all I ever heard about.

-Well, he had such a hard time of it, and...

-We all did.

But some of us didn't end up in jail.

I don't talk because no-one's listening.

Oh, Christopher, I'm always here for you. I love you.

I know you do. But you love Jack more.

That's not true.

I just never felt I had to worry about you the way I did about Jack.

He reminds me so much of your father.

And who do I remind you of?

Me.

KNOCK AT DOOR

About time. Well?

No luck, sir.

Doctor Harvey said she wouldn't be able to identify the poison

without seeing the body.

She also said she had to talk to Blake. Actually, she insisted.

She's here? Fine. Let her in.

Where does she stand?

She seems pretty tight with the doctor.

More on his side, than ours. Makes it hard to do your job.

Station could do without that.

-Sure can, boss.

-Good work, Sergeant.

PHONE RINGS

-Munro.

-Davis here, sir.

-Where are you?

The station. It was quicker to come here and call.

The money was in Miss Maddern's room.

As were two plane tickets to America,

one in Miss Maddern's name, the other in Miss Gilchrist's.

So she wasn't leaving Miss Gilchrist behind at all.

-Well, it doesn't seem that way.

-How'd you go with florists?

Ah, Flora on Sturt Street sold the bunch of long-stemmed roses

that ended up at the club.

Rose thorns? It'd have to be an incredibly powerful toxin.

An organic alkaloid, you say?

Could be. Or synthetic.

-Man-made?

-Frightening, but possible.

We'll need liver and spleen samples to isolate it.

Agreed. Unfortunately, we can't collect them here.

So I'd noticed.

I know, I know. I don't approve either.

Keeping the body here like this.

Apart from anything else, it's disrespectful.

Munro has his reasons, not all of which are about the crime.

Mm? Do you want me back there now, sir?

No, not yet, Davis.

We'll need more than the word of a florist to arrest

a military man in this club.

There's a notebook on my desk.

In it, you'll find the number of Major Derek Alderton.

-Get it and call me back.

-Yes, boss.

-Munro.

-Got it, boss.

Phone number is XJ 7379.

Get back here as soon as you can.

MUSIC

-Where the hell have you been?

-Yeah, sorry, boss.

Right. And the Major was quite clear.

He described our man as deeply damaged, and as such,

potentially extremely dangerous.

If it goes pear-shaped, use any force necessary.

Superintendent.

We've managed a partial analysis of the poison.

Save it for the report, Doctor. We have a suspect.

Sergeant Murray Nelson.

I'm arresting you in relation to the murder of Jacqueline Maddern.

GASPING

-Hey, let her go.

-Mattie!

Take another step and I'll snap her neck.

You don't want to do this.

You don't know anything.

I know she's having trouble breathing.

SHE CHOKES

You're a military man. This isn't what you were trained to do.

Let her breathe.

Alice!

Secure the suspect. Take him to the boardroom.

Take it easy.

Congratulations, Chief Superintendent.

Thank you, Patrick.

Are you sure you're all right?

-I'm fine.

-I'm not convinced.

I'm just embarrassed.

Miss O'Brien, I could use your help.

We need to call the hospital and arrange for the body to be removed.

Of course.

-Well, looks like a triumph for the Superintendent, then.

-Mm.

Why did you poison Jacqueline Maddern?

Hmm?

We met Murray years ago in Korea.

Recently, I think he came to several performances, but...

Did you tell the police you knew him?

I can't be sure. I think so.

-Oh, honestly, I was so upset.

-Yes.

Doc, the boss would like to see you in the boardroom.

Yes, of course.

-You can't read Korean, by any chance?

-Korean?

I can.

I'll have to do a proper analysis but it certainly

looks like the substance I found on the rose thorns.

Can you read what it says?

It's a poem.

Let's all go... Something and soul.

Body.

It's body and soul.

Let's all go, body and soul, with no way of return.

On a vial of poison. How romantic.

There were rumours in Korea that both sides were experimenting

with chemical weapons.

Mr Nelson was recently discharged from the army

due to a nervous condition.

We're going to need another statement from Pamela Gilchrist.

-Guessing she's gone back to her hotel.

-No, she's still here.

Bring her in, and tell everyone else they can leave.

Take Mr Nelson down to the station and charge him.

Chris, I understand you needed to make a phone call.

Yes, I do.

No objection to Christopher using the phone now, Superintendent?

Do as you like.

You realise, of course, there are a number of things

that still don't add up.

I think you'll find we're done, Doctor.

-Will this take long, Sergeant?

-I shouldn't think so, ma'am.

Right this way.

Mr Reynolds.

-Mr Reynolds.

-Susan.

I'm aware there are business interests involved here.

-Is that correct?

-There are.

You will come by Patrick's office tomorrow,

and he will offer you a job.

You'll find that more than compensates

for the loss of your article.

And if I don't?

My friend, the Chief Superintendent, will charge you with blackmail.

Is that understood?

Chatham House rules, Mr Reynolds.

It doesn't go out of the club.

I'm tired of being hurt like this, Patrick.

Take me home.

-How are you bearing up?

-Not too bad, thank you.

Your boy, Christopher, he seems like a fine young man.

Thank you. Yes, he is.

Jean, just while I have you here, can I show you something?

Tell me, what do you see here?

I see a photograph of a couple.

Jacqueline Maddern and her killer?

Mm. That's all I saw too, at first.

Look at that.

I still haven't worked out how it happened.

Ah, Mr Simpson.

Goodbye, Princess.

HE SOBS

That's all we need for now, Miss Gilchrist.

Sergeant Davis will take you back to your hotel.

Thank you, Superintendent. I am so sorry that I didn't mention

Mr Nelson earlier.

I could've saved you a whole lot of time and trouble, couldn't I?

Yes. But then you wouldn't have been

able to give such a stellar performance.

That's right, isn't it, Pamela?

I'm sorry, Doctor?

Blake! I told you, we're done.

No, we're not done, William.

You took this?

Borrowed it. Murray was in love with Jackie, no doubt.

But once she dumped him, you were there to pick up the pieces,

weren't you? That's when he became...

..addicted to you.

And you played him perfectly.

You convinced him to purchase the roses, apply the poison.

You even had him prepared to take the fall.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

Murray was head over heels in love with Jackie.

Once she'd finished with him, she just threw him away.

Same as she'd done with Mr Simpson and Patrick Tyneman.

-Superintendent...

-Luckily, you were there to harness his fury, his rage.

But, of course, you had to keep the ultimate act for yourself,

didn't you?

You killed her with an embrace.

Protecting yourself...

..with this.

Holding it between yourself and the roses.

Do you really think that I would...?

We were like sisters.

No, you weren't.

She treated you like a servant. Like hired help.

This is absurd.

Please, Sergeant, take me back to my hotel.

Do you really think Murray will stand by you,

once he's read that statement?

Oh, but of course you weren't planning on sticking around anyway,

were you? You were going to the States without Jackie,

going to a place where you could reinvent yourself.

Where you could be in the spotlight, for once.

But you overplayed it.

How dare you!

How dare you say that to me!

You stayed on the stage far, far too long.

What would you know?

I was always the better actress.

She was the pretty one.

It's always the pretty ones who get picked, isn't it?

You made sure everyone would see her ugly final act,

or at least read about it.

You needed the press here. You were Reynolds's anonymous source.

So what if I was?

She deserved it.

She was poisonous.

Poison deserves poison.

BELL TOLLS

Come and have some breakfast.

Or at least have a rest before you go.

Thanks, Mum.

Oh!

Cup of tea?

I don't think so, Mattie.

Come on.

Tell you something, your mother's very excited about your new baby.

-Is she?

-Yes, she is.

Let her be a part of things, won't you? She deserves some happiness.

-Mattie!

-Oh, we'd better get in there.

Oh, how about that?

Yes.

# For she's a jolly good fellow

# For she's a jolly good fellow

# For she's a jolly good fellow

# And so say all of us. #

What happened to the cake, Mattie?

-Mm, I made it.

-Oh, it's lovely.

No, it's not. It's a mess.

-Mattie, what's this bit here supposed to be?

-Shut up!

Come on, Jean. Blow out the candles.

Heaven knows, we couldn't afford to buy nearly enough...

-Lucien! Ignore him.

-I do.

Make a wish, Jean.

Bravo.