Well, of course they'll love your designs.
If only I can place the collection. I'm not reaching too far?
The Lathams' show will be the making of the House of St Gardner, I know it.
What would I do without you to cheer me on?
Lathams? Oh! How thrilling!
Sorry, couldn't help overhearing.
I'm such a fan of your work, Lady Vivien.
You must be Camille, Vivien's model.
One might even say, her muse.
I wouldn't go that far.
How kind of you. You must come to the show.
Oh, I would love that!
Yes!
The effervescent Bunty Windermere
blazes a trail down the Paris catwalks!
Absolute perfection. You have to come to the show, Bunty.
Your brother is terribly persistent.
Well, we did warn you about him.
Oh, Bunty, I must introduce you to...
Oh, I'm...I'm so sorry, I didn't catch your name.
Barbara Farrell. The gossip columnist?
Journalist, if you don't mind.
"Miss Windermere cavorts with cocktails and cads",
wasn't that the headline?
Not a bad one, if I do say so myself.
That's rather a low trick.
I just want to write up your show.
Don't give her anything. Her column has cost me.
Well, I'm sure you can afford it.
Leave Bunty out of this. How gallant!
Do I smell romance, Mr St Gardner?
Must be the third time this week.
I think it best if you leave.
"The Honourable Bunty Windermere
"stalks the seedy Manx Lounge
"with notorious womaniser Harvey St Gardner."
Don't you dare! Still good old Alistair at the Evening News?
We're overdue a game of tennis. Harvey...!
You won't threaten me into silence.
I wouldn't! You don't want me for an enemy.
Is this wise?
Come on, Miss. Good riddance, I say!
You'll regret this! Don't make a fuss, miss.
Get off!
What I want to know, Father, is, who is responsible for that?!
Penelope?!
Oh, Father, Mrs M!
Oh! Ha-ha!
Penelope!
Did you miss me? I've had such a marvellous few weeks!
It has been rather quiet since you've been away.
It's always quiet when you're away.
Oh, what a darling place!
Look at that! Perfect!
I have brought a few friends.
Models Camille, Maude and Nancy.
Oh, and Lady Vivien St Gardner-Verde over there,
and her brother Harvey.
Good evening to you all!
Oh, and, of course, Sir Ralph!
Always an afterthought.
Oh, not true, Ralph.
You must be the famous Mrs McCarthy.
Is this actually the Cotswolds?
Next stop, Paris.
Well, if the show can't happen in London...
Show? So, that's what all this is in aid of?
Lathams' Hotel dropped us for another fashion house.
I did offer them more money.
You tried your best, Ralph, I'm grateful.
Bunty came to the rescue. Isn't she marvellous!
Yes. Thank you, Bunty.
I can see it now - Vivien St Gardner's exquisite collection
against the quaint parochial setting. Goodness me!
Is this horrid little backwater where it's all happening?
What is she doing here?
Did you think having me sacked would be the end of it?
Listen, I didn't quite mean for...
But the things you wrote about Bunty...!
Some of us have to earn a crust.
I'm sorry for what happened in London, Barbara.
A pity for you, Lady Vivien.
My original piece would have been far less sensational.
How did she know we were in Kembleford?
Weren't we mentioned in the Society pages?
Let's forget about Barbara for tonight. My nerves are shot.
It's a big day tomorrow.
Right, Nancy and Maude, you're through here.
Pick any room you like.
And Vivien and Ralph, you're down here, in the Yellow Room.
And Camille, you can have this one.
Thank you, Bunty. Hm-hm!
You shouldn't have intervened on my behalf.
I only told Alastair to tone her down.
I couldn't stand by whilst she slandered you.
This one's my room.
I'll, um...take that one, then.
Yes. See you in the morning.
Goodnight.
A little while since we shared.
Well, perhaps Bunty could find you another room, if...?
Oh, no, no. I'm perfectly happy with the arrangement.
What do you imagine Barbara meant by "sensational"?
Bluff, don't you think?
Yes, most likely.
Oh, It's you creeping about, is it?
Did you hear someone leave?
Well, something woke me, but, then, I don't sleep much.
So I hear.
Huh!
Do you really not?
No.
But then, it has its perks.
I get to see Bunty Windermere in her pyjamas.
I should go.
Goodnight.
I think it looks rather splendid!
Huh! I'm not sure how Lady Felicia will feel
about Montague being invaded.
Look! Now they're driving her car!
As for Penelope and that Harvey St Gardner...
I think Lady Felicia would understand
Bunty's yearning for companionship.
Father!
That is quite a line in cassocks.
And you look simply divine in that hat, Mrs M.
Oh! Nonsense!
A cheap trick, buttering up my friends.
I'm absolutely crazy about your Bunty Windermere.
He says that about all the girls.
Yeah, but this is the first time I meant it.
How very reassuring.
We're very fond of Bunty, too.
Oh, Inspector. Are you looking for fashion tips?
Ensuring there are no breaches of the peace, Miss Windermere.
I thought you were here for the models. Models?
Time to rehearse, everyone. Look out.
I wish she'd buzz off back to London.
She'd hardly come all this way for nothing.
The House of St Gardner's new light and breezy organza,
for that carefree look.
Observe how the gold embellishment accentuates the piece.
It certainly does.
Where's our Penelope? There she is!
In fitted bodice and coral silk is Bunty Windermere!
She really does look a picture!
The Honourable Bunty Windermere.
Well, a third-rate show deserves a third rate mannequin.
I beg your pardon? Do give it a rest, Barbara.
Yes, you're blocking my view.
I'm not going to let you poison everything!
You want to discuss your poison, Mr St Gardner?
I'm sure everyone will be fascinated!
What are you drivelling on about?
Surely you'd like to know who your beau really is, Miss Windermere.
Please, Barbara!
Miss Farrell,
whatever your grievance with the House of St Gardner...
How charming! A priest defending a nest of vipers!
Don't concern yourself with me, Father.
God and I fell out a long time ago.
Save these bankrupt souls instead.
Quite ruthless with those roses, aren't you, Lady Vivien?
What a sham that marriage is?
I could almost feel sorry for Sir Ralph.
Call a halt to this! Not with the stories I've got to tell!
Steady on.
Mr St Gardner...?
Don't worry, Father, I'm going.
Your friends lost me my job, but I'm not done yet!
Huh!
God has not abandoned you, Miss Farrell,
despite how difficult things may seem.
If your God cared a fig for me,
he would have spared my fiance from friendly fire.
He wouldn't have left me scrabbling to put food on the table.
We can't all marry into money.
No. Life is much harder for some.
I imagined travelling to the Far East
and uncovering stories that matter.
And look at me now, Father -
reduced to trading scandal, and selling to the highest bidder.
Well, that was certainly some spectacle!
This is all my fault.
Harvey had Barbara sacked because of me.
Bunty, you're not responsible for other people's actions.
But Miss Farrell is driven by the need to survive, as much as revenge.
It's only threats. She hasn't got a column now.
I wish I could be so sure.
Ralph? Would you meet the buyers from the train?
I want to make sure someone greets them. Of course, darling.
I'm so sorry you had to witness such an outburst.
Not at all.
Come on. We haven't got time, honestly.
Why haven't you got your clothes on?
Well, no smoke without fire, as they say.
What were you saying to her?
There's no reasoning with the woman.
Harvey, about this whole poisoning business,
is there anything I should know?
Bunty...it's true, I haven't lived a blameless life.
Women, gambling, drinking.
I do know your reputation, Harvey St Gardner.
And I'm not exactly a convent girl myself.
I don't want to be that man any more.
Shall we make a pact - to leave the past where it belongs?
I'd certainly like to talk about our future.
I do hope you're not getting ahead of yourself.
Barbara called me your beau.
A few other things besides.
Bunty...
..could you imagine us being together?
Because lately, I can't think about much else.
I wondered how long it would take you.
So I can remember this moment...
Huh!
Yes, I'll write up their fashion show as a companion piece.
Hold on.
Who's there?
Must have been the cat downstairs. Where were we?
No. Listen, what I have is worth far more than that.
Or should I call the Times instead?
You're not really serious about this young man, are you?
I mean, what will your parents think?
Oh, they'll think he's delightful, once they meet him.
Are you sure there's nothing in what Miss Farrell says?
She makes her living from gossip, Mrs M!
Oh, Father? I w...
What is it?
Is that...blood?
Hello?
Holy Mother!
The Fall of the House of St Gardner.
Amen. Amen. Amen.
She was typing her column.
The murder weapon!
Thank you so much. Thank you.
Oh! The damn train was late.
I dropped them all off at Montague.
Are they happy? As far as I can tell. But, then again, I'm no judge.
Thank you.
What did Barbara mean about the roses?
Everything she said is a lie, Ralph.
Where are the others? In the marquee, I think. What's the matter?
Barbara Farrell has been murdered.
Why were you in the house, Padre?
The door was ajar and I saw blood on the handle.
Right. Well, thank you for your help.
Miss Farrell telephoned the Evening Mail at 11:20,
but their call was interrupted.
Did they hear anything on the line?
Miss Farrell asked, "Who's there?" and something about a cat.
And then? Well, she later said, "It's you".
Then the line went dead. So she knew her killer.
Thank you, Padre. We worked that out for ourselves.
I can't believe it! Who on Earth would...?
And you discovered her? I found something else, too.
I should have told you.
I haven't shown the police, or Father Brown, yet.
I had to stop Barbara damaging the House of St Gardner.
You were paying her off! It was idiotic, I know.
Harvey, are you covering something up?
No. I just couldn't let her ruin everything.
Where did you go, after I left you?
To get more film for my camera.
Wait! You can't think for one minute that I would...?
Bunty!
Father, you don't think
Harvey St Gardener could be a murderer, do you?!
Sh!
Oh.
Miss Farrell's notebook, it's in shorthand.
Over to you, Mrs McCarthy.
I can't make much sense of this.
Something about "deadheading roses".
A bracelet, perhaps.
I'll round up this fashion lot,
see what they have to say for themselves.
Very good, Sir. Still here, Padre?
We found this.
Probably Miss Farrell's.
Although she favoured pearls.
We'll take it from here. Thank you, Padre.
Thank you, Sergeant.
They're carrying on with the show after this?!
Well, they've come all this way.
And the buyers are arriving from London.
There must have been some argument over this journal,
but I don't believe that was this morning.
The fireplace was completely cold.
Well, someone did leave Montague before midnight,
and it wasn't Harvey.
And how do you know, pray...?
I happened to see him.
Besides, surely the charm suggests a woman?
And, um... Well, neither Vivien nor Camille have an alibi.
Whoever lost the charm may not be the murderer.
There are visits to a Vipers' Club recorded here in the last fortnight.
In Soho!
A nest of vipers.
Does it say who was there?
No, not that I can see.
You don't know that place?!
I've heard of it. It's afterhours drinking and poker.
Oh, and is that the kind of place frequented by Mr St Gardner?
Even if it is, it doesn't prove anything.
And it could have been Sir Ralph.
Sir Ralph was on the way to the station
at the time of the murder, wasn't he?
If the murderer did indeed enter Miss Farrell's lodgings at 11:20.
Now, there's mention here of a Keats Street.
Well, I think it's Keats.
Bunty, you are best placed to search Montague for a bracelet
missing a charm, if you wouldn't mind? Of course.
There could be a murderer under that roof. Penelope cannot go alone!
Mrs McCarthy, if you look into this Keats Street address,
I will accompany Bunty to Montague.
And you, be very careful of that Harvey St Gardner.
Ah! Hornby. Good morning.
Did Mr St Gardner describe his conversation with Miss Farrell?
He tried reasoning with her, that's all.
Oh, Bunty, I hope you don't mind.
Carrying on seemed the only thing to do.
It's difficult to know how to respond to such a tragedy.
Where's Harvey? I wanted rehearsal photographs for the buyers.
He's rigged up some sort of darkroom. Excuse us.
Lady Vivien's show clearly means a lot to her.
She's worked terribly hard for it.
Do the guests know about the death?
No. We... Vivien thought it best not to mention it.
And they all arrived on the 11:30 train?
That's right.
Why would Miss Farrell feel sorry for you, Sir Ralph?
I'm sure she doesn't.
That woman talks in riddles. Talked.
Yes, of course, talked.
It must have been hurtful to hear your marriage described as "a sham".
Last night, Lady Vivien spoke of her gratitude towards you.
Do you support the House of St Gardner financially?
That makes Vivien sound terribly materialistic.
Was Miss Farrell hinting that Lady Vivien married you for money?
I'm afraid so.
You know, I don't care what a fool I seem.
I just don't want her to leave me.
And you fear she might?
I'm not a decent man, Father.
Quite the opposite.
Why would you say that, Sir Ralph?
In that marquee, just for a moment...
..I wanted to thank Barbara Farrell.
If Barbara did bring down the House of St Gardner,
if Vivien's business couldn't succeed...
She would still need you.
How despicable that I could even think that.
What exactly are you looking for?
Oh! Creeping up on a girl like that!
Are you going to search my room next?
Oh, you just might.
What's going on, Bunty?
Do you know the Vipers' Club?
Yes, but it's hardly my scene.
Hang on, you can't think that I'm capable of killing a woman?!
I don't want to believe that, Harvey, I really don't.
Thanks for that, Frank. Bye now.
Where are those background checks?
Not back yet, Sir.
But I had quite a chat with my old mucker from the Met.
This is a murder inquiry, Sergeant,
we haven't time for your class reunions,
so stop your gas... Sir...?
Why didn't you say so?!
Nothing in their rooms.
Perhaps the bracelet has already been disposed of.
Camille's.
How do you think that mud got there?
Walking through fields at night?
Ah!
Miss Hogan, might we have a word?
Excuse me.
Camille? Yes?
We know you were at Barbara's.
You went through my things?
There was a charm found at Miss Farrell's. The police have it.
Miss Hogan, you were the only one
not mentioned in Miss Farrell's outburst.
I went to ask her to stop.
In the middle of the night?
I heard you leave Montague.
Miss Farrell talked about trading scandal.
Were you giving her information?
It wasn't a trade.
I didn't have a choice.
I lost my temper.
Vivien's given me everything - a job, a roof over my head!
And they've taken it all from me!
Whatever you have on her, Vivien doesn't deserve this!
Bit late for an attack of conscience.
I can't carry on with this, Barbara.
But you're so good at it!
So much invaluable detail on Lady Vivien. Thank you.
No!
NO!
That...that was a very silly thing to do!
I'm...I'm sorry. I'm sorry!
Please Barbara, don't tell Vivien. She'll never forgive me!
I'll...I'll be on the street!
Now we have it.
Not loyalty, but saving your own skin. Oh!
We're cut from the same cloth, you and I.
I gave you what you asked for.
You did, Camille.
All right, I've got all I need.
Our little arrangement has run its course.
Was she blackmailing you?
What did she have on you?
I was convicted of assault, years ago.
I was defending myself,
but who was going to believe the black girl from Brixton
over the Eton boys?
Oh! Camille!
Barbara threatened to make a story out of my conviction.
It would finish me.
What information were you giving Miss Farrell?
Only dates from Vivien's diary.
If you're telling the truth, you have nothing to fear.
That hasn't been my experience.
Mr St Gardner, I'd be grateful if you could help us
with something that's come to light down at the station.
What on Earth...? Am I being arrested? Not yet.
Inspector, is this necessary?
I'll be the judge of that, Miss Windermere.
Harvey!
Something on your mind, Bunty?
Father...
..what if you feel someone is telling the truth,
but you're worried that they're holding something back?
Ah.
If only we could see into other people's souls,
but that is God's prerogative.
So, we can't really be sure of anyone?
Is there anything you wish to tell me?
I possibly should have mentioned this earlier.
Ah!
£50!
He was clearly desperate to cover something up.
But if he paid her off, then why kill her immediately afterwards?
Besides, we haven't ruled Camille out yet.
Or Vivien, for that matter.
She's been absolutely frantic about this show
ever since Lathams cancelled.
Except they didn't cancel, according to Barbara.
Sir Ralph apparently pulled the House of St Gardner out.
Well, that's not what he said to Vivien.
Sir Ralph fears that Lady Vivien will leave him
if the House of St Gardner succeeds.
Ralph would ruin Vivien's show?
Quite possibly.
Mrs McCarthy, what about Keats Street?
That appears to be a private address in East London.
Connected with "deadheading the roses"?
So it would seem.
And these numbers here...
Are a London telephone number. Exactly.
It wasn't my apartment.
You just happened to be there
when the police raided a large haul of opium?
And I wasn't charged, as I'm sure you're aware.
So unless this interview is leading somewhere....
We heard rumours of a payoff,
to a now-disgraced former officer.
Ah, can't even trust the police these days.
Why did you threaten Miss Farrell
and have her thrown out of the Manx club in London?
You feared she was onto you, hm?
No. That was because of Bunty.
Ah, yes, Miss Windermere.
Desperate in case your wealthy conquest
should discover your drug-fuelled past...?
I resent that. You had Miss Farrell removed from the newspaper.
No. You were furious when she followed you to Kembleford.
Well, of course I was angry, she was slandering my family!
So you threatened Miss Farrell when she disrupted rehearsals,
and afterwards, you were seen speaking with her
not far from her lodgings.
And then I was with Bunty. Ask her.
But beyond that,
you don't have an alibi.
Did you lose that temper of yours?
Hello, am I through to Keats Street?
Yes. My name is Mary Smith, and I was wondering if...
No, no, I'm sure I have the right number. Um...
Oh, please don't go. I need your help!
Ah. Um... With, um...
With, er...deadheading the roses.
Sorry? H-How many...?
What?
She hung up on me.
What did she ask?
How many weeks since planting.
Since planting what - the roses?
I said I needed help.
Perhaps Keats Street is a place that helps women in trouble.
I told you, you'll get the rest tomorrow.
It's not good enough. That's no good. Today...
I can't believe you would... I'm sorry.
Since when? Since after we met her at the Manx Lounge.
Why didn't you talk to me straight away?!
I couldn't risk you turning against me.
Oh, you thought that of me? Really, Camille?
Oh, Bunty, you're here!
Is there any news on Harvey? No.
It's absurd, the police taking him in like that! You need to get ready.
We know about Keats Street.
About the abortion.
I take it your husband was unaware of your pregnancy?
Your brother could be in the cells right now, Viv,
so anything you could tell us...
Lady Vivien, were you planning on leaving Sir Ralph?
I was always fond of Ralph, but it wasn't exactly...
Love?
And at Keats Street...
Vivien! Bunty!
He's been released! Oh, thank goodness!
Are you all right?
Give Vivien a message from me, would you? After the show.
An opium den!
It was all such a long time ago.
Nancy, your hat.
I wasn't entirely honest with the Inspector.
You mean there's more?! Harvey?
I did use the stuff, for a while.
It controlled me. Your poison.
It was eight years ago now.
Just after the war?
It's no excuse, but there are things I can't forget.
I used it to...block out...
Like many young men, I'm sure.
If you'd told me at once, I would have understood.
And would your parents have been so forgiving?
Oh, I very much doubt that.
I kicked the habit years ago. You heard Vivien.
You weren't honest with me. I didn't want to lose you!
Even if I can forgive you, how will I ever trust you?
Because I'm the same person that you looked at like this.
I haven't changed since 11:15 this morning.
11:15?
May I take a look?
These bankrupt souls.
What's that supposed to mean?
I'm letting them in now.
Where's Sir Ralph?
I think he went back to Montague.
What?! No, he's probably outside somewhere.
Bunty, you must get ready.
Silk and sheen are our watchwords here.
Maude, in gala gown and taffeta stole.
New to the House of St Gardner.
Followed by Kembleford's very own Bunty Windermere!
Stunning in silk, with a delicate nipped-in waist.
Who wouldn't be bowled over?
Would you knock?! Sorry, Sir.
I told you a highly-trained eye was required.
Good job you kept those photographs, then, Sir.
Come along, Sergeant.
Model Camille, who's been with this House since the very beginning.
Fresh as a spring day in the House of St Gardner's
light and breezy organza.
Fresh as a new start.
Oh! Gentlemen, welcome!
I think we've come in the wrong way, Sir.
Oh, you do like to upstage a girl.
A fine example, ladies and gentlemen,
of post-war military chic in serge.
Confidence and poise, Inspector.
Will you look at that pair?!
Out of my way, Miss Windermere!
Camille Hogan, I'm arresting you for the murder of Barbara Jane Farrell.
What?! No, please... You're not obliged to say...
Best come this way, miss. I'm so sorry, ladies and gentlemen.
What a-a-a-a debacle!
No! Don't leave! Vivien?
Ralph said to tell you he knows what the rose is!
Please! Please remain in your seats, everyone!
Are you leaving, Sir Ralph?
What are you doing here?
I assumed you had cancelled the show at Lathams
to prevent Lady Vivien's success, but I was mistaken.
I beg your pardon?
You couldn't afford Lathams' Hotel,
because of your gambling debts at the Vipers' Club.
Am I right?
That is quite an insinuation.
I imagine that your last poker win was not sufficient
to pay the marquee workers their proper dues.
You weren't thankful to Miss Farrell,
you were fearful of what she might reveal.
I'm in no mood for this nonsense, Father.
You say you left Kembleford at 11:10 today?
What of it?
Lady Felicia's car, near Miss Farrell's lodgings,
at 11:20.
When the killer entered.
The church clock runs five minutes slow.
There he is! Ralph?!
Where are you going?
There's nothing left for me here, Vivien.
What's all this?
I didn't mean to hurt her.
But she just kept on and on!
No, Ralph, you...you couldn't have!
Wait!
Stay back, all of you!
Sir Ralph...I know you did not intend to kill Miss Farrell.
I just wanted her to stop.
I-I-I was ready to beg.
Please! Barbara!
Where does Vivien think you've been all these poker nights?
Or is she deceiving herself, too?
Just hold back on the story.
I will get you more than any editor will pay.
But you are stony broke, Sir Ralph.
Give me a little time.
You can't gamble your way out of this.
I'm warning you, Barbara.
No!
I feel for you, I really do.
Vivien has used you terribly.
No! Vivien cares for me.
Your wife cares only for the House of St Gardner!
Do not talk about her like that!
I'm actually doing you a favour.
Once you know what your wife is capable of, you'll be free!
What the devil do you mean by that?!
She'll drop you the minute she finds the money has gone!
You were only ever a blank cheque to Vivien,
and now you're just another rose that she'll have to dead-head!
STOP!
Barbara?
It was like I was watching from the outside!
Afterwards, I...
Could not countenance what you had done.
I wouldn't have left you.
I know what you're doing,
but it's no good, old girl.
You...got rid of our child!
It isn't true! Don't like to me!
Barbara was wrong!
I heard you! NO!
Do you want Vivien to witness that?!
I'm going to hang, anyway!
Oh! I'm still pregnant!
I couldn't go through with it.
Come down. Bloody fool!
I did want your money at first.
I'm not proud of that.
And I didn't want to bring a child into a loveless marriage.
But when I got to Keats Street, it was...
It was like waking up.
Love isn't always blinding and sudden and consuming.
It can grow.
I couldn't find a way to show you. You seemed so...far away,
but I do...love you, Ralph.
I've ruined both our lives.
Your shame and loss drove you to breaking point
and now you repent.
You must hand yourself in, Sir Ralph,
and ask God for forgiveness!
Everything we went through
and the House of St Gardner's finished, anyway.
Perhaps after the trial, when everything's settled down...
Yes. The press will move on eventually.
It hardly seems worth it now. If only I'd told Ralph...
No. Don't, darling, you can't think like that.
We have to look forward now.
You'll be all right?
I have these two looking after me.
Goodbye. Goodbye.
Thank you for everything, Bunty. Goodbye.
Come with me, Bunty! We'll go away somewhere, just you and me.
Forget this whole damned thing!
Where will we go? Anywhere you like.
You promised me Paris. Paris it is.
We'll rent a tiny apartment with a balcony over the Seine.
We'll dine with poets in dark bistros.
I'm not sure about the poets.
I'll fight them off when they fall in love with you.
And I'll propose to you on the steps of the Sacre-Coeur.
And will I say yes?
You will, Bunty.
You will, because you can't deny these feelings any more than I can.
We both know where that leads.
You couldn't leave Vivien.
I can't let you go, Bunty.
The baby, the trial, my parents.
It's...it's not...it's not the right time for us.
You know it really.
It's not selfish to grab our happiness when we can!
Harvey, don't make this harder!
I brought all this to your door. I'm so sorry.
I'll never be sorry about that.
I'll be back for you, one day.
Well, at least things can get back to normal now.
It won't always hurt this much, Penelope.
Well, that's some relief.
I believe Tennyson had a poem for this sort of occasion.
Honestly, Father, if you're going to do the
better-to-have-loved-and-lost thing, I shall actually scream.