Death at the Opera The Mrs Bradley Mysteries

*

Parapraxis.

Parapraxis?

It's what Dr Freud would term a slip of the tongue or lapse of memory, revealing an unconscious desire.

Not what you might call a USEFUL word.

Then how about "paramour" - an illicit lover?

-How do I get that into an everyday sentence?

-That's the challenge!

-Better late than never!

-Perhaps if we hadn't had to go back for your speech...

-I dare say Dr Freud would have something to say about that.

-I dare say, George.

-This brings back memories - happiest days of your life.

-The longest.

-How would you define finishing school, madam?

-A sort of farm,

where they grow wives and mothers. Young women are sent to be finished.

-Which is precisely what they will be if they believe the twaddle they're taught.

-"Home, harmony, humility."

Hogwash!

-She's here at last. Clementine, it's vital I see your father afterwards.

-Yes, Miss Ferris.

I read the other day that smoking ruins the complexion. ..Chop, chop!

MUSIC: Overture to "The Mikado" by Gilbert and Sullivan

Such an honour, Mrs Bradley. We thought we might have to start without you.

GRAMOPHONE: # A wandering minstrel I

# A thing of shreds and patches

# Of ballads, songs and snatches... #

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH

'Our guest of honour, Mrs Bradley,'

has been described by the Times as one of the country's foremost criminologists and psychoanalysts.

She is perhaps more at home lecturing policemen at Scotland Yard than young ladies at her alma mater.

LAUGHTER But she has agreed to give this year's Evadne Flint Memorial Lecture.

This will follow The Mikado.

PIANO INTRODUCTION PLAYS

Same here - bo-RING!

-Do you like Gilbert and Sullivan?

-Frankly, Doctor, I wish they'd never met.

# If you want to know who we are... #

< Plum! # We are gentlemen of Japan

# On many a vase and jar... #

GRAMOPHONE: # Three little maids from school

# Three little maids from school are we

# Pert as a schoolgirl well can be... #

# But here he comes

# Equipped as suits his station

# He'll give you any further information... #

-What are we waiting for?

-Miss Ferris!

Go and find her!

BLOODCURDLING SCREAM

GRAMOPHONE: # Three little maids from school are we

# Three little maids from school are we

# Three little maids from school are we

# Three little maids from school are we Three little maids... #

Sayonara, Miss Ferris.

# You're the cream in my coffee

# You're the salt in my stew

# You would always be my necessity

# I'd be lost without you... #

-Heart attack. No doubt about it.

-Are you sure, Doctor?

Yes. She had a heart condition - just a matter of time, I'm afraid.

-Who last spoke to her?

-I did.

-Head girl, Clementine Prosser-Harris.

-Did she feel unwell?

No. She said she wanted to speak to my father after the show. "Vital," she said.

He's chairman of the Board of Governors.

-Any idea why she wanted to see him, miss?

-I'm afraid not, no.

-HEAD TEACHER: Poor Miss Ferris!

-Poor Miss Ferris, indeed.

-Excuse me, Mr...?

-Valentine. Max. Music tutor. Miss Mona Bunting, motherhood and make-up.

-May I?

Of course.

-I'll write a death certificate.

-That might be premature.

These marks on the door... The varnish has been scratched away -

clawed, I'd say - and there's varnish under Miss Ferris's nails.

It looks as though she was desperate to get out, but couldn't.

-You're quite sure the door was unlocked, miss?

-Yes, positive.

Thank you, girls. You may go.

-Are you suggesting something is wrong?

-Probably not, but you should notify the police, just in case.

-But think of the publicity!

-Think of Miss Ferris!

Mrs Bradley, my husband and I have worked ceaselessly to build Hadleigh Heights's reputation.

We are not having it shot to pieces when the truth is plain to see.

-Poor Miss Ferris had a heart attack.

-Very well. No police.

On one condition - you allow me to satisfy myself there's been no foul play.

-Do you find the school changed since you were here?

-No. Gloomy as ever.

This used to be out of bounds. I actually feel rather naughty just being here!

Well, I hope you'll be comfortable.

Goodnight.

Oh! Spiders everywhere! I'm sorry - they give me the creeps.

-Same here, miss.

-Goodnight, Miss Bunting.

One or two of yours here, madam - Criminal Minds...

Prison Reform...

Manners Maketh Man.

-I didn't write that.

-No. "A guide to everyday etiquette by Evadne Flint."

Miss Evadne Flint! She didn't care tuppence for the three Rs.

For her, it was the three Es - elegance, entertaining, etiquette.

If you wanted to know how to address an archbishop, Miss Flint was your woman. They got her in the end -

embezzlement, as I recall.

"A gentleman escorts a lady on the street side to protect her from splashes, footpads and marauders."

-More to the point, did you manage to pickpocket that key from Miss Bunting?

-Mmm.

-Well done!

-In Pontefract, they don't call it pickpocketing - they call it "doing a George".

-You must be very proud.

OPERA MUSIC PLAYS

There.

One death certificate.

It would have been...sudden, I take it?

She wouldn't have felt a thing.

Well, I'm up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire.

Goodnight.

I shan't disturb you.

-Was Mrs Simms here in your day, madam?

-No. They're all new faces.

-If you hated this place, why come back?

-I had one or two things to get off my chest, but they can wait.

First impressions?

A keen traveller.

Very neat and tidy.

Keeping chaos at bay.

Paris...Moscow...

Egypt...Egypt...

A diary...

-fitted with a lock!

-Aha!

-It's in gibberish, madam.

-No, George, it's in code.

So...Miss Ferris was a) neurotic, b)compulsive,

c) secretive, to the point of obsession.

-Ten bob you can't crack that code by tomorrow.

-You're on.

Sapphire - on a teacher's pay?

It could be a gift, but then, why hide it?

-Trouble sleeping, Mr Valentine?

-I'm on my way for a glass of water.

-You don't waste any time.

-No sense letting the trail go cold.

-Assuming there IS a trail.

-Must have been a shock, sir.

-In hothouses like this, it's surprising it doesn't happen more often.

-Did Miss Ferris have a regular travelling companion?

-She headed the trip to Rome at Easter.

-Otherwise, she was deeply antisocial. She holidayed alone.

-Really?

Then who took all these films?

-He was right. These hothouses breed incest, rivalry and jealousy.

-It's a wonder they get any work done.

-Miss Ferris was a woman obsessed.

-By what?

What, indeed? Goodnight, George.

Goodnight, madam.

Splendid, splendid!

And...glide, ladies...glide...

Head, head! Chin, chin!

Splendid!

Posture and poise, s'il vous plait, Plum!

-Why the nickname?

-Anything beats Prunella - even Plum!

Mrs Bradley, can I be of help?

-What can you tell me about Miss Ferris?

-Best art teacher ever. Excuse me.

There we are...

There. That's better, Little Miss Pretty.

-She taught conversation and floral display.

-Did she have a lover?

Romances are not permitted during term time.

My wife is most insistent.

My observation system,

so we can see what's going on in all parts of the school wherever we are - eyes in the back of our head.

-Most ingenious!

-We've had one or two jewellery thefts. I rather hoped this would prove a deterrent.

-Speaking of jewellery, do you know who this belongs to? It was found in Miss Ferris's room.

-Clementine,

isn't this yours?

Yes! I reported it stolen last week.

-My pearls went missing too. And my watch.

-You didn't call the police?

It was an internal matter. Now Miss Ferris has passed on, I think we can leave it at that.

Resumez, jeunes filles! Vite, vite!

Heads erect!

Agnes! It's a baby, not a sack of potatoes!

But this is what nannies do.

You need to know Nanny's doing it right!

KNOCK AT DOOR

I'm down for art. I've just got the hang of one subject, then I have to bone up on a mother one!

MISS BUNTING: Merci, mes filles.

ALL: Merci, mam'selle.

I'VE got to take over conversation skills and floral display.

Max Valentine said, "I've just got the hang on one subject, then I've got to bone up on a MOTHER one."

-He meant "other".

-Touch of the old parapraxis, madam?

-Exactly.

Maybe these dolls triggered thoughts of his mother.

-Got that ten bob handy?

-You've cracked the code!

The most common letter of the alphabet is E. In the diary, it's F or maybe T. If F or E equals T...

-You don't know what you're talking about, do you?

-Not a clue.

You're being too complicated. If F equals E, let's assume each letter corresponds to the one behind -

-B equals A, C equals B.

-So...

this reads...mad...bad...

And dangerous to know! As Lady Caroline Lamb said of her lover, Lord Byron.

Thank you! Supposition - the mysterious Miss Ferris had a secret lover, hence the code.

Secret because he's a member of staff. Max Valentine!

I'll search his room. You keep him busy. See if you can find anything in his wallet.

And, George...

Go carefully.

I first saw the original of this when I was on holiday in Paris with my late husband and his mother,

who said, "What is the Thinker thinking?" My husband replied, "Probably wishing he'd worn a vest."

At that moment, I knew my marriage was doomed.

# Life is just a bowl of cherries

# Don't be so serious Life's too mysterious

# You work, you save You worry so... #

This is very good of you, sir.

I loved painting as a nipper -

-walls, mainly.

-I'd never have guessed(!)

# Life is just a bowl of cherries

# So live and laugh at it all! #

"With birthday love from M."

This is supposed to be a life class. Miss Ferris promised us a male model.

I do have a copy of a sculpture by Rodin in my room. Anything beats bananas.

-Back in two ticks.

-No!

Um...no need for a sculpture, surely.

-Are you volunteering your services?

-Certainly not!

-In that case, I'll get my sculpture.

-Well, on second thoughts...

if it would help...

EXPLOSION OF GIGGLING

# All that meat and no potatoes

# Just ain't right Like green tomatoes

# Yeah, I'm waiting, palpitating

# For all that meat and no potatoes

# All that meat and no potatoes

# All that food to the alligators, yeah

# Hold me steady I am ready

# But all that meat and no potatoes... #

-Did you need me, madam?

-GIRLS: No!

-Quite all right. Take your time.

One can't hurry art.

Thank you, ladies. ALL: Aw-w!

Thanks, George! Thanks very much!

Bye, Georgie!

MR VALENTINE: Thank you, George.

Thank you.

-I'm burning this lot!

-Nonsense! I like this one by Plum. Interesting perspective.

I didn't manage to nab his wallet, due to a shortage of hiding places.

Four pounds ten...and an Italian passport with a photograph of Max Valentine,

but bearing the name Massimo Valentino.

-What about his room?

-Nothing,

-except a book of poems given with love by somebody whose name begins with M.

-Mona Bunting.

Yes?

Just thinking aloud. Would you give this to Mr Valentine? He dropped it.

No, please...I don't want to know.

"Miss Mona Bunting has been appointed Deputy Principal."

Congrats! I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but I AM glad it's you.

Thank you.

A fob! How unusual for a woman.

-No choice. Allergies, I'm afraid.

-Really?

-Yes.

Is that the Italian Embassy? This is Mr George Moody, headmaster at Hadleigh Heights Academy.

I'm checking up on a countryman of yours. He applied for a position here - Mr Massimo Valentino.

Yes, of course I'll hold.

OPERA MUSIC BLARES OUT

..Excuse me.

Yes...grazie to you, too. Thanks. Bye.

MUSIC STOPS

I asked George to telephone for some clothes.

-I hope you don't mind.

-Top-notch idea! You ought to patent that.

Madam...

"Dear Miss Ferris, We have pleasure in enclosing your boat ticket, final destination Madagascar."

Jenner's book shop. "We beg to inform you the book you ordered is ready for collection."

-Postmarked...

-BOTH: Yesterday!

-Poor Miss Ferris! Sorely missed.

-Indeed.

-May I see the book she ordered?

-I hardly think so.

-She was a very private person.

-And now she's a very dead person.

-The Well Of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall. No wonder it's wrapped.

-Not mucky, is it?

-No, but it IS banned.

-It's about love between two women.

-Oh.

Oh-h...

Assuming Miss Ferris's secret love - mad, bad and dangerous to know - wasn't a man, but a woman...

-I'd hazard a guess at Mona Bunting.

-She could've taken those films.

-But she gave those poems to Max with love.

-Maybe she butters her bread on both sides.

-Beg pardon?

If Mr Valentine was in love with Mona Bunting, but discovered she was also in love with Miss Ferris,

-could he have murdered out of jealousy or disgust?

-SHOP BELL TINKLES

Morning, Doctor!

All ready for you.

-And I've slipped in some extra postcards.

-Thank you, Mr Jenner.

Good day.

-Might I enquire what the doctor bought?

-I'm not sure he'd want me to say, madam.

-Pity.

These imported books and postcards you sell - aren't they the kind the police would be interested in?

He bought Practical Hypnosis by Dr Jurgen Van Gelder.

And a book on sexual manners.

Sex, George.

Beg pardon, madam?

Sex or money. With murder, it's usually one or the other.

One can't help thinking how much simpler life would be without sex,

or what my mother used to call "matters of the trouser".

Then again, as St Augustine said, "Lord, make me chaste - but not yet."

What Mrs Bradley's getting at is, are you...? I mean...

How exactly do you butter your bread?

Are you in love with Mr Valentine?

And were you also involved with Miss Ferris?

I've been looking for that.

If there WAS a menage a trois, it might have a bearing on her death.

Please try and understand.

As far as Mrs Simms is concerned, even a conventional romance means instant dismissal.

Anything at all...

..unorthodox would lead to utter ruin.

Was Mr Valentine aware of you and Miss Ferris, or vice versa?

-Not as far as I know.

-I assume you're the "M" who gave Mr Valentine a book of poetry?

Then you assume wrongly!

-Are you aware Mr Valentine is using a false identity?

-Max?!

-Why?

-That's what WE'D like to know.

Why did you lie to me? Not here!

# Keep young and beautiful It's your duty to be beautiful... #

Quicker, girls! Come on, Lady Lovely Legs! Put your back into it!

Reach, girls, reach!

Well done, mam'selle! Presto! Presto!

I've been through the entire register - girls and staff. Mona Bunting is definitely the only M.

-Perhaps it's a nickname.

-Weren't you wearing a brooch when we arrived?

-The school magpie has swooped again.

-Not Miss Ferris this time!

-Telegram for Mr Moody - our new headmaster(!)

-Are those Clementine's parents?

Yes. They're taking me on a picnic. We're having champagne!

"Confidential - Signor Massimo Valentino not recommended for employment at your academy."

Well done, George! What do they call that in Pontefract?

Picking a lock, madam.

Well, well! A suspect in several major jewel robberies in Venice,

our friend Mr Valentine was tried, but acquitted.

-No wonder he changed his name, but why keep these papers?

-Ego. Everyone loves to see their name in print.

-But if Miss Ferris found out...

-He'd want to keep her quiet.

And we've just told Miss Bunting!

Max, talk to me!

There was a trial. I was cleared.

But your name, where you come from, everything - it's all lies!

I needed a fresh start. How dare you...!

Careful, sir - manners maketh man.

Goodbye, Signor Valentino.

-I suppose YOU told Mona about me?

-Yes.

-The allegations were untrue.

-If you've got a crazy notion

-I

-killed Miss Ferris, that's nonsense!

-I don't recall accusing you.

You should be talking to Dr Simms. Dirty old goat! He's been trying his luck with Miss Ferris for months.

I reckon she was going to report him to the chairman of the governors, but she never got the chance.

-What exactly are we looking for, madam?

-Anything that tells us more about Dr Simms.

-HELP! I think I can smell gas from the kitchen, and the door's locked!

-Leave this to George.

THEY COUGH

What's going on?

George...get the police.

-Agnes, this is...

-Inspector Christmas, Scotland Yard.

-Tell him.

I was after some biccies, but the kitchen was locked and I smelled gas.

So, you broke down the door, then YOU arrived. I was getting water and heard Agnes.

"I'm sorry. I can't bear the guilt. I poisoned Miss Ferris."

You're sure this is Miss Bunting's writing? Positive.

Her application to be deputy principal. Identical.

She and Miss Ferris were rivals. Is that relevant?

Motive of a sort, I suppose. ..May I ask why you didn't report the death of Miss Ferris as suspicious?

-I was convinced it was just a heart attack.

-But YOU thought there was more to it.

-I had my suspicions.

-And Miss Bunting's death?

-Suicide, as far as one can see,

prompted by despair at being forced to disguise her true self, guilt at having murdered her lesbian lover.

-Suicide could have offered an end to her torment.

-COULD have? You're not entirely satisfied.

It takes a lot to satisfy me, Inspector.

Did you say...lesbian?

Indeed I did. It doesn't do to deny one's nature,

whatever that may be.

Open and shut, as far as I'm concerned - just the way I like them. And a chance to meet you - a bonus.

-I've read all your books, and I found your lecture on murder in marriage fascinating.

-How kind.

-If I can ever be of assistance...

-Henry Christmas. Unusual name.

-The novelty wears off, believe you me.

A real pleasure, Mrs Bradley.

-Good day.

-Goodbye.

Charming man. Charming!

-If you say so, madam.

-Does anything strike you as odd about this suicide?

-In what way?

Are we to believe that two teachers are dead because of petty rivalry?

-And Max Valentine searching for water for the second night running.

-He seems a remarkably thirsty man.

Someone could've knocked her out, then put her head in the oven?

Before locking the door and climbing out the window. But the note...

-Easy to fake her handwriting - sheet of tracing paper...

-If so...

hypothesis - whoever murdered Miss Ferris also killed Miss Bunting.

-Then faked her suicide to foil us.

-Interesting watermark.

Looks like the Colosseum in Rome.

I think it's time we took a look at the staff files, find out exactly who we're dealing with. ..Biccy?

Madam.

HE COUGHS

Beg pardon, madam. This etiquette malarkey...

At a society wedding,

-how would I address the eldest son of an earl?

-Do you attend many society weddings?

Fair point, but, um...

Lord How's-Your-Father or the Honourable How's-Your-Father?

-I can't remember.

-Would a gentleman escort a lady to dinner on this side or this?

A gentleman would know.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

The answer is Mr How's-Your-Father would be a viscount.

Now, why would Mrs Simms keep a secret photograph of Max Valentine?

-The word "paramour" springs to mind.

-I was hoping it would, George.

And what is he tearing in half?

-"Certificato".

-Italian for certificate. You can just make out the letters Z, I, O, N.

Zion... Some sort of Jewish connection?

You're a liar! I did not steal your stupid crucifix.

You were the only one in the dorm. Give it back! Can't. Haven't got it.

Trust you to stick together. I know all about you two. You're disgusting!

And you're a snob and a bully. I hate you.

I'll see you later.

-Loathsome creature! She's always picking on me.

-Probably because you're a scholarship girl.

-Is it that obvious?

-You darn your stockings, just as I did.

-You and I, Plum, we're birds of a feather.

-But you're as rich as Rockefeller!

-My family was rich,

until my father decided to invest in a gold mine in Basotholand. A word of advice...

-Never invest in Basotholand?

-Precisely. Everything I have, I've earned.

The one lesson I learned from the bullying I suffered here was it can make you weep, or make you strong.

She's done enough weeping. Her parents died when she was six - influenza.

-Who looked after you?

-Nuns in an orphanage - if you can call it "looking after".

But soon we'll be one big, happy family. My parents are adopting Plum. By Christmas, Daddy says.

A real-life sister - best present ever.

-Congratulations!

-I know. I can hardly believe it myself!

-What then?

-How do you mean?

-Dreams. Ambitions.

Monte Carlo or a flat in London. Lots of parties.

What more could you want?

I want to be a writer. All I can remember about my father was him saying, "Read, girl, read.

"Books contain all the treasures of the world."

She locks herself away, writing her novel.

A novel? How enterprising.

-Would YOU have a look - give me a few pointers?

-I'd be delighted.

-Ah! "A Perfect Life". Thank you.

-If it's not too bad,

-perhaps you could show your publisher.

-Mmm.

"I know about you two. You're disgusting."

What do you think Agnes meant, madam?

I should have thought that was fairly obvious.

What?

Young girls like that?

In my day, it was called "having a pash" - short for "passion".

Seldom a lifelong state of affairs.

-Right, madam.

-At least...

not necessarily.

# Jealousy

# It was only through jealousy

# Our hearts were broken And angry words were spoken

# Now all I have... #

What a delightfully louche crowd!

Do you know...where the tango first originated, George?

-I've no idea, madam.

-In the brothels...

of Buenos Aires.

I proposed to the former Mrs Moody at a dance. Not Buenos Aires.

Basingstoke.

Happy birthday, my darling.

Wordsworth. Perfect!

-It's not what you think!

-What DO we think?

-"With birthday love from M."

-It's not how it looks.

-No.

"M" stands for Mother, which accounts for your Freudian slip.

I've no idea what... You've been looking through my things!

I've been looking for a murderer in all the wrong places. "Z, I, O, N" -

it's part of an Italian word, adozione. You were tearing up your certificate of adoption.

# Goodnight, Vienna

# City of a million melodies... #

It broke my heart. But when you are 17 and working in a foreign land and find you are expecting a baby,

what choice do you have?

The father was your employer, I take it?

A businessman from Naples, married to the Contessa Manzi. I was governess to their children.

I thought it was love. He said so often enough.

But when I told him I was expecting his baby, he called me "puttana" - harlot.

I was packed off to their country house till the baby was born, then back to England...alone.

You don't have an Italian accent.

When I was six months old, my father paid an English family to adopt me.

It took me 15 years to track my boy down.

Now I take him to lunch like this every birthday - just the two of us.

-And the robberies in Venice?

-I was on holiday. It was a simple case of mistaken identity.

But people do love to talk, so Mrs Simms - my mother - gave me a fresh start.

And Massimo Valentino became Max Valentine.

-How long had Miss Ferris been blackmailing you?

-How did you know about that?

You were going to make her deputy principal, even though Miss Bunting was better qualified.

She must have had a hold over you.

Appalling woman! Money didn't interest her. Status - that's all that mattered.

-She threatened to tell the school governors about your past?

-Yes.

-But I didn't kill her, if that's what you're thinking!

-Who else knows?

No-one.

Except my husband.

Remember, mademoiselle, we are ladies of quality. Legs together, swivel,

and out you come, dainty as a daisy.

Mademoiselle, remember - elegance.

Legs together...

swivel... Not too high!

Out you come, pretty as a picture. Charming!

He fits the bill - illegitimate children, foreigners, scandal...

-No good for his school's reputation.

-If Miss Ferris WAS a blackmailer, she'd have to be silenced.

-But imagine spending all day, every day surrounded by nubile young ladies.

-I'm doing my best.

I mean, what effect would it have on a man?

Apart from that.

Dr Simms reminds me somewhat of the Ancient Mariner -

"Water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink." Whether or not he's fallen overboard remains to be seen.

This is the one that will make my fortune.

Press the little black button.

-Oh, look...

-That's...

If that isn't the best thing since...

Well, since I don't know what!

No, thank you. I've been talking to your bookseller, Doctor. He told me of your particular area of interest.

Hypnotism.

Yes...yes, a fascinating field.

Most people read Van Gelder on the subject, but personally, I think Slegmann has more to offer.

-Er...yes, I've been experimenting with it as a cure for phobias and other conditions.

-Really? Such as?

Nightmares. Young Plum Fisher suffered badly when she arrived, but four sessions did the trick.

-Who else did you treat in this way?

-I really couldn't say. Almost time for your lecture.

-Was Miss Bunting one of your guinea pigs?

-I can't discuss patients.

Not even dead ones?

I can be very discreet when the occasion demands.

Miss Bunting had certain...

-sexual proclivities, of which she was deeply ashamed.

-And powerless to resist?

Yes. She wanted a cure, underwent several sessions of hypnosis, but to no avail.

-Were you aware that Miss Ferris shared these lesbian proclivities?

-Not until you mentioned it, no.

-Did you use hypnosis on Miss Ferris?

-Yes, but for something different.

-Was it a physical or a psychological disorder?

-Really, Mrs Bradley!

-It goes against the grain to discuss patients.

-We know she had a severe heart condition.

-I told her she had to be very careful.

-May I see Miss Ferris's case notes?

Very well.

When you broke the bad news about Miss Ferris's heart condition, was there anyone else in the room?

-Of course not!

-But there could have been an eavesdropper outside?

-It's possible, I suppose.

-During that consultation, did you discuss Miss Ferris's other problem -

-the one here?

-I hypnotised her. She was adamant nothing should interfere with her holiday.

-Madagascar.

-I beg your pardon?

-She was going to Madagascar.

"Madagascar - a lush, tropical island off the coast of Africa,

-"famed for its distinctive evolution of flora and fauna, including large..."

-Spiders.

Message from Mrs Simms. Everyone's here. Ready when you are.

Mrs Bradley?

Thank you. Why don't you sit down?

-I'd like to talk to you about your book. It's very good.

-Thank you!

I have a theory about why some people write fiction.

They want to impose some sort of order on the chaos of the world,

to create the neat, happy endings that life stubbornly refuses to provide.

-And we all love a neat, happy ending, don't we?

-Yes.

Especially a girl like you.

Yes.

Why not close your eyes a moment?

Just for a moment. ..Good girl.

INAUDIBLE REMARK

-Will Mrs Bradley be much longer?

-Hard to say, madam.

'Once upon a time,'

there was an angry little girl, furious with the world, especially her parents for leaving her alone.

She knew they couldn't help it, but she was still angry.

The anger was so deep she didn't even know it was there.

She didn't understand why she had terrible nightmares and a compulsion to steal things she didn't want,

but HAD to have.

Then, one day, she was caught red-handed.

You little thief!

Who said that?

-Miss Ferris. She saw me take Clementine's ring.

-And threatened to tell her parents.

-She can't!

-The adoption's about to go through!

-Who will stop her?

-I

-will.

-Where are you now?

-Ssh! I'm outside the study, eavesdropping on the doctor and Miss Ferris.

-She's got a very bad heart. No sudden shocks, or else...

-Or else what?

She'll die.

-There's something else.

-She's scared of spiders.

More than scared -

she's absolutely petrified.

# Three little maids from school are we

# Three little maids from school are we... #

What now?

-I'm watching the Mikado.

-Where is Miss Ferris?

-In the dressing room.

-But the door is locked.

-..Yes.

No escape.

# Two little maids remain and they Won't have to wait very long, they say... #

Let me out!

# Three little maids from school are we

# Three little maids from school are we

# Three little maids from school are we... #

STUCK RECORD CONTINUES PLAYING

'The perfect murder.'

Not bad for a scholarship girl.

-They're waiting.

-What did your father say about books?

"Books contain all the treasures of the world."

I believe this... is your crucifix, miss.

Yes! And my watch.

And my brooch.

And my pearls.

Don't look at me! That's MY crucifix and my watch - both stolen.

Or so you said.

Anybody could have put those there.

Just as anyone could have forged Miss Bunting's suicide note? One fatal mistake.

The Colosseum watermark - identical to the watermark on all 206 pages of your manuscript.

Oh, Plum!

We were nearly sisters.

PLUM: Family. That's all I wanted.

So much...it hurt.

How could I let Miss Ferris ruin my one chance to be happy?

Haven't I been through enough?

Well, haven't I?

-Try not to be too hard on her, Inspector. She's a very disturbed young lady.

-I'll do my best, madam.

-I do hope we meet again. Goodbye.

-Goodbye.

'I'm not trying to justify what she did,'

merely to understand it.

She craved a family and acceptance in what passes for polite society.

But society is changing.

Last year, we women won the right to vote.

Amelia Earhart flew the Atlantic.

Who knows - one day, a woman might be Prime Minister.

I was expelled from Hadleigh Heights.

Had I stayed, I might have come to believe in home, harmony, humility,

and to lead a life of jam-making, gin rummy and Chalfont St Giles.

So, girls, before you settle for the little life,

remember - the world is now your oyster.

And provided you believe in yourselves, there is nothing you cannot achieve.

There's bound to be some rather lurid publicity, I'm afraid.

We'll survive.

We're not the dinosaurs you seem to think. People will always need standards.

And some of us rather like the little life.

Winifred.

Not exactly birds of a feather after all, eh, madam - you and Plum?

No, apparently not.

Come on! I suspect we've somewhat outstayed our welcome.

Yes, if this is anything to go by.

The Japanese say, "Visitors are like fish - they begin to stink after three days."

Clever people, the Japanese.

All set? I've tied it to the back.

-Thank you! Arrivederci.

-Goodbye.

-Tied WHAT to the back, madam?

-Oh, nothing. Just a little souvenir.

# You're the cream in my coffee You're the salt in my stew

# You would always be my necessity I'd be lost without you

# You're the starch in my collar You're the lace in my shoe

# You would always be my necessity I'd be lost without you

# Most men tell love tales Find each tale dovetails

# You know each known way This way is my own way

# You're the sail in my love boat You're the captain and crew

# You would always be my necessity I'd be lost without you. #

Subtitles by Valery Tough BBC Scotland 2000