It's like falling off a horse.

Just what I was thinking.

If we don't get on again at once, we'll lose our nerve.

But having botched up this job, where's the next horse coming from?

Honestly, I don't know where I went wrong.

I would have bet my bottom dollar the countess had stolen the necklace.

And I'd have sworn that Jasper Adrington had snitched it.

A complete waste of time following him round the golf course.

The countess was about to confess, I'm sure of it.

On the last green, I grilled him.

He was quaking.

And what happens?

Along comes the local inspector and says, "The second footman done it."

SHE CHUCKLES Second footman, mind you!

A well-known thief with a string of convictions.

Admitting his guilt, and no bones about it.

HE SIGHS And I thought this get-up would do the trick.

Still, I suppose a stolen necklace isn't really a Father Brown problem.

I even bought the right kind of umbrella.

For a Father Brown case, one needs a certain kind of atmosphere.

One wants to be doing perfectly ordinary things and then, bizarre things start to happen.

TOMMY: You mean it should come out of the blue?

Unexpected?

- Mm-hm.

TOMMY: Mysteriously.

- Exactly.

I'd better get out of these togs before we leave for London.

Perhaps, something bizarre will happen on the way to the station.

Upon my soul!

TOMMY CHOKES, COUGHS It is!

Tommy!

Good Lord!

Bulger!

BULGER LAUGHING I haven't seen you since we were demobbed!

Oh, darling, this is Mr Estcourt, Bulger to his friends.

- I say, old chap!

TUPPENCE: How do you do?

I didn't know you'd taken orders!

- Ah, well as a matter of... - Fancy you a blinking parson!

BULGER LAUGHS Oh, erm... yes.

Miss Glen, won't you join us?

Miss Glen, this is Tommy Beresford, and old army chum of mine.

We made the world safe from any more wars.

How do you do?

And this is, erm... Er, this is my sister, Miss Beresford.

How do you do?

Of course we'd recognise you anywhere, Miss Glen.

Secrets Of The Heart, what a wonderful play.

I thought so, too.

Yes.

At The Globe, wasn't it?

We saw it three times.

- Twice.

- Twice.

And, er... Pillars of Fire at The Playhouse.

Twice?

- Once.

- Once.

Oh, well.

Won't you take a seat?

- Oh.

Are you really a priest?

A Roman Catholic priest?

Very few of us are what we appear.

But I do listen to confessions.

- Oh, really?

BULGER: I think he's pulling your leg, Miss Glen.

LAUGHTER Well, if you're not a priest, I don't see why you're dressed as one.

TUPPENCE: Fair enough, Tommy.

- Unless you're a... a what, a criminal flying from justice.

SHE CHUCKLES No, he's... the other way round!

THEY LAUGH Oh.

SHE LAUGHS I say, what about a cocktail?

TOMMY: Oh, no, thanks, Bulger, we're leaving in a moment.

Know anything about the trains back to London, old man?

You've missed the five o'clock, I'm afraid.

But there's another at 6.35.

TOMMY: Ah.

Is it far to the station?

Oh, no.

Ten-minute walk from the hotel.

Take a shortcut down Morgans Lane.

Morgans Lane?

BULGER: Oh, you've heard about the ghost, eh?

BULGER LAUGHS Oh!

Ghost?

There's a cemetery at the side of the lane, you see, and rumour has it that a policeman who was killed in the course of duty years ago, rises from his grave and walks his old beat up and down Morgans Lane.

HE LAUGHS Up and down, up and down!

Oh, don't!

Don't!

TUPPENCE: A spook policeman?

Can't be many of those around!

There aren't really such things as ghosts, are there?

There are many a people in Adrington who swear they've seen him.

HE LAUGHS Up and down!

- I must bid goodbye.

- Oh.

Up and down!

BULGER LAUGHS You said you wouldn't follow me here.

My dear, if we're going to be married, you mustn't have any secrets from me.

You fool!

I'm only here to make it all possible.

What on earth's going on?

That's Lord Leconbury.

Rumour has it she's going to marry him.

A title still has some sort of glamour, I suppose.

Oh, yes.

And Leconbury's not impoverished, by any means.

She'll be in Clover.

Beautiful creature, of course, but the brains of a rabbit.

- Where does she come from?

- Nobody knows.

Pretty near the gutter, I dare say.

She didn't look very pleased to see him.

Well, she's not very pleased to see anyone.

Between ourselves, there's something deuced mysterious about her being here at all.

TOMMY: Why?

Well, she's not staying at the hotel.

Now, I was in this very bar, last night, when she came in and ordered a drink.

Well, I tried to engage her in conversation, you know how it is, old man.

HE CHUCKLES Of course.

And you, a priest!

Anyway, she snubbed me, snubbed me quite crudely.

I'm blessed if I know why.

Yes, that... that is odd, Bulger.

By... by the way, what are you doing here?

Me, old man?

In Adrington?

HE LAUGHS I live here!

I'm the cement works on the cliff road outside of town.

BULGER LAUGHS Well, must be off.

Just time for a round of golf before dinner with my wife.

Jolly nice to see you, old chap.

TOMMY: And you, old man.

We must have a bus together, next time I'm up in London.

So long.

- Goodbye.

- Cheerio, old man.

TOMMY: Bye, Bulger.

Oh!

Well, how do you know it's for me?

There's no name.

"For the priest," she said.

Miss Gilda Glen.

Thank you.

"I'm not sure, but I think you might be able to help me.

"Please be at the White House, Morgans Lane, at six o'clock.

"You have to pass it on the way to the station.

"Yours sincerely, Gilda Glen."

How extraordinary!

Is that because she thinks you're a priest?

I think it's because it's finally sunk in, that I'm... not.

Here.

Whatever that'll buy.

Hell!

That's what I say, hell!

And damn all women, is what I say!

Good evening.

Oh, all right, kick up a row about it!

Have me thrown out, it won't be the first time.

He only said good evening.

Well, why shouldn't we say what we think?

Why should we go bottle up our feelings?

I didn't notice that you were.

- Sir!

Please, sir.

- Yeah?

If you don't mind, sir, please quieten down.

You're disturbing the customers.

- Oh, I beg your pardon.

- Be a little pleasant, perhaps?

- Yeah, I don't feel pleasant.

Here's a small rum and lime juice.

That'll make you feel better, sir.

I feel like getting hold of someone by the throat and throttling 'em to death!

Oh, just anyone, or someone in particular?

Oh, someone very particular.

And strangling them.

That's very interesting.

Won't you tell us more?

My name is Reilly.

James Reilly.

You may have heard of me.

I wrote a volume of pacifist poetry.

Good stuff, although I say so.

- Pacifist poetry?

REILLY: Yes, and why not?

Oh... nothing.

Nothing.

REILLY: I'm for peace all the time.

TOMMY: All the time?

Yeah.

To hell with war and to hell with women, eh?

Begging your pardon, Father.

You are absolved, my son.

But I don't quite see the connection, Mr... Reilly.

No?

Well, now, did you see that creature who was trailing herself around here just now?

Gilda Glen, she calls herself, and I've worshipped her for years.

From afar or at close quarters?

She cared for me once.

When she lived here.

Before she went on the stage.

And I could make her care again.

So, what's stopping you?

HE SCOFFS I want to know if she has a heart.

If she does, then it's on my side.

But if she sells herself to that muck heap... - Which muck heap would that be?

- Leconbury, of course.

His Lordship Leconbury, the mountain climber.

I'd as soon strangle her with me own hands.

SHE CLEARS THROAT Sorry... ..Father.

- What an excitable fellow.

- Very excitable.

TUPPENCE: What time is it, darling?

Half-past five.

So, what do we do now?

TUPPENCE: Next train to London, or...

The White House, Morgans Lane?

How can we resist?

SHE CHUCKLES I suppose we're mad!

Yes, but thoroughly intrigued.

I mean, just look at the list of characters.

A ravishing blonde actress... - Yes, she is rather smart.

Frightened out of her mind, for some reason.

Lord Leconbury, the scaler of mountains and rich suitor... James... whatever his name is... Reilly.

..half out of his wits for love of Gilda Glen.

Loud of mouth, but probably soft on action.

And your friend Bulger.

A bit shifty, I thought.

- Oh?

- Mm.

Ah, this must be the cemetery.

The mist's getting worse.

Soon we shan't be able to see a house of any colour, unless it's right on the street.

TUPPENCE: I'm beginning to feel jumpy, darling.

It's the mist... and the silence.

- What's that?

- What?

That.

Footsteps.

Behind us!

I can't hear anything.

TUPPENCE: No?

No, silly of me.

Don't be so nervy, darling.

TUPPENCE: There they are again.

Can't you hear them?

- No.

- Listen.

BIRD COOING It's imagination.

There.

In front of us now.

Oh, Tommy, don't say you can't hear them!

FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING Yes.

Yes, I can hear something.

I think they're behind us.

Somebody on their way to catch the London train, perhaps.

SHE YELPS FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING Oh, thank heavens!

Good evening to you.

CONSTABLE: Now there's a gent what seems to be in a hurry, Father.

KNOCKING AT DOOR He's the sort of person that always would be in a hurry.

POUNDING ON DOOR They've let him in.

CONSTABLE: Friend of yours?

- No, not exactly.

But I do happen to know who he is.

Name of Reilly.

CONSTABLE: Ah.

- Is that the White House?

- That's right, Miss.

Mrs Honeycott's place.

A nervous party, you might say.

Scared of burglars.

Always asking me to look around the house.

Middle-aged ladies get like that sometimes.

Do you happen to know if there's a rather, erm... flamboyant young lady staying here?

Well, now you come to mention it, Father, a young lady did go in at the gate, about three or four minutes ago.

I saw her as I was coming up the road.

Was she wearing a fur coat?

CONSTABLE: Can't say I noticed rightly, Miss.

But she had a bit of rabbit round her neck.

Gilda Glen.

CONSTABLE: What, not the actress?

Yes.

If I'd known that, I'd have asked for her autograph.

HE CHUCKLES But what's she doing in Adrington?

The nearest theatre's 30 miles away.

Yes, it is a bit odd, isn't it?

CONSTABLE: Well, I'd best be getting along.

Good evening.

- Evening.

It's ten past six, darling.

Better go in.

WOMAN SCREAMS, TUPPENCE GASPS Oh, my God!

God!

- Tommy!

- Come on, old thing.

KNOCK AT DOOR - Father!

- What's happened here?

ELLEN: Did you ever see the like of that?

That fella comes here, asks for the young lady, and then runs upstairs without as much as a by your leave!

And she lets out a screech like a wildcat!

TUPPENCE: Yes, what was that?

Was she frightened, or surprised, or what?

Heaven knows, poor dear!

And then, he comes rushing down again with a white face on him like he's seen a ghost!

Now, what could be the meaning of it all?

DOOR OPENS MRS HONEYCOTT: Who were you talking with?

- Here's Mrs. TOMMY: Mrs Honeycott?

Yes?

TOMMY: We've called to see Miss Glen.

Oh, you have, have you?

MRS HONEYCOTT: And who might this person be?

Erm...

This... this is my sister.

Hmm.

Come in here, please.

TOMMY: Thank you.

Please, sit down.

Thank you.

TOMMY: Our name is Beresford.

Then, to begin with, Mr Beresford, you will excuse me if I say that I don't hold with the Roman Catholic religion.

Oh, well, of course.

We're all entitled to our own opinions.

And I never thought to see a priest in this house.

But if Julia has gone over to the scarlet woman, I dare say it might be worse.

Julia... gone over to the scarlet woman?

MRS HONEYCOTT: It's only to be expected, leading a life like hers.

Is Miss Glen here in the house?

She is.

Mind you, I don't approve.

Marriage is marriage, and your husband's your husband.

As you make your bed, so must you lie on it.

TOMMY: I don't quite understand.

I thought as much.

Gilda was the name she took when she went on the stage.

You may go up and see her after I have spoken my mind.

TUPPENCE: Actually, she sent us a message... After I have spoken my mind!

Two days ago, after all these years, think of it, she turned up here and asked me to help her, wanted me to see this man and persuade him to give her a divorce.

- Her husband?

MRS HONEYCOTT: Exactly.

I told her straight out I'd have nothing whatsoever to do with it.

Divorce is sinful.

As I know you'll agree, Father.

- Oh... absolutely.

- Absolutely.

Nevertheless, I couldn't refuse shelter to my own sister.

Gilda Glen's... your sister?

Yes.

Didn't she tell you?

Julia is my younger sister.

Wait a minute, Mrs Honeycott, I am still not yet quite clear.

Your sister is married?

MRS HONEYCOTT: That is what I said.

When she was 17, she eloped with a man.

Some common fellow, far below her station.

And our father, an Anglican minister!

Mind you, I never met him.

Was he from here, in Adrington?

MRS HONEYCOTT: I have no idea.

What was his name?

That's an extraordinary thing now, but I can't remember.

Of course, it is nearly 20 years ago since I heard it.

My father forbad it to be mentioned.

And I have refused to discuss the matter with Julia.

But she didn't stay with him long, I can tell you that.

She ran away to go on the stage and called herself Gilda Glen.

Her husband's name isn't Reilly, by any chance?

I told you, I can't remember.

It may have been.

Play acting!

I have never been inside a theatre in my life.

I hold no truck with wickedness.

Now, she means to marry some bigwig.

But apparently, her husband is standing firm.

Not to be bullied and not to be bribed.

I admire him for it.

But if she wanted you to persuade him to give her a divorce, he must be around here somewhere.

I would presume so.

Mrs Honeycott, I mentioned the name Reilly because he was the man who was here just now.

That man, I thought he was one of her theatrical friends.

Oh, you saw him?

I'd been in the kitchen, giving orders to Ellen.

I'd just got back into this room when I heard Gilda let herself in.

She... hesitated for a moment or two in the hall and then went upstairs.

About three minutes later, I heard this terrible rat-tatting at the front door.

I looked into the hall, Ellen was opening the front door, and this man rushes upstairs without a word.

A few moments later, he rushes down again, like a madman.

Mrs Honeycott... ..your maid said there was a scream from somewhere upstairs.

Yes.

Mrs Honeycott, hasn't it occurred to you that something might have happened to your sister?

Oh!

Nothing ever happens in Adrington.

Nevertheless, I think we should go upstairs at once.

TUPPENCE: Please, lead the way.

KNOCKS ON DOOR SHE SCREAMS She... she's dead, is she?

I'm afraid she is.

Oh, no!

No!

- No, better not.

Really.

Let's go out.

MRS HONEYCOTT YELPS TUPPENCE: I... think we'd better go downstairs.

Mrs Honeycott, have you got a telephone?

A... a telephone?

No.

No, I haven't.

TOMMY: Oh, God.

Darling, listen.

I'm going to try and get that policeman.

TUPPENCE: It was Reilly, of course.

It certainly looks like it.

Except that he didn't strangle her.

I shan't be a tick.

Wh... why would I need a telephone?

I said before... nothing ever happens in Adrington.

Come along.

It must have been a terrible shock for you.

But before we talk about it, Mrs Honeycott, I think I must be frank with you.

I can't believe it.

She's dead.

My sister.

Mr Beresford and I are married.

He's not a priest.

We're private detectives, and we're down here in Adrington working on a case.

It must have been that man bursting in here!

But why?

Why?

We'll try and find out.

He must be her husband.

Yes... yes, Reilly.

That was the name.

I remember now.

He wouldn't give her a divorce, so... Mrs Honeycott, do you feel up to answering a few questions?

Questions?

MRS HONEYCOTT: Oh... yes.

Yes, I'll try.

Thank you.

Do you remember what time it was, when your sister came in?

- What time?

TUPPENCE: Yes.

Yes, I do.

It was exactly eight minutes past six.

Eight minutes past six.

Oh, but how can you be so exact, so sure?

Because that clock loses five minutes every day, and I always set it on every evening by my watch.

And your watch is always accurate?

It never loses or gains a second.

It was my father's.

Well, that time would agree with another witness.

Now, tell me, would it have been possible for someone to have come in without your noticing and to have been waiting for your sister upstairs?

I don't see how that could have been possible.

Unless he climbed up the drainpipe at the back.

Do you mind if I have a quick look round?

Oh, will you be all right?

I shall have to be, shan't I?

Until... until the police and people arrive.

Why don't you lie back and rest?

Try closing your eyes, hmm?

And I'll be back in a minute.

DOOR CLOSES SHE EXHALES TOMMY: Constable?

Constable!

CONSTABLE: Hello again, Father.

You're needed at the White House!

Something up?

The young lady you saw going in, Gilda Glen, she's been killed.

CONSTABLE: Killed, you say?

- Yes, Constable.

Right, sir.

We'd best be getting up there, tout de suite.

SHE GASPS Oh, for heaven's sake, Miss, tell me what's going on!

It's Mrs Honeycott's sister.

She's dead.

She's dead?

But she only came in a coup...

I don't believe it.

She's been killed.

Glory be to God.

It's not possible.

TUPPENCE: I'm afraid it is.

Well, where?

In there.

ELLEN GASPS - Then the police will be here.

TUPPENCE: Yes.

Asking questions, "Who's this?

What's that?"

Oh, heaven protect us!

I'm scared out of my wits!

Now, just a minute.

Erm... Apart from this man bursting in this evening, has anyone else been around to the house asking for Miss Glen?

Only one, a couple of days ago.

A man.

- Did he leave his name?

- Er, no, miss.

And what did he look like?

I don't remember, I was doing the fires.

And anyhow, Miss Glen wasn't in.

But you would recognise him if you saw him again?

Well, why shouldn't I?

Or someone very like.

Are you sure it wasn't the same man that came tonight?

ELLEN: Yes, Miss.

- Mm.

And what were you doing when this fellow burst in this evening?

I was pulling the curtains in the Mrs' bedroom.

TUPPENCE: And what time did you say that was?

Well, it... it was six o'clock, or a smidgen after.

And then, you ran down and opened the door.

Yes, I ran down to answer it.

And him, the murderer, all the time!

Well, we're not certain about that yet.

ELLEN: Aren't we?

Well, then who else would it be?

The Mrs and me being the only two people in the house?

KNOCKING AT DOOR Oh, my poor heart!

What next?

We'd better go upstairs at once.

I looked upstairs.

There's nothing.

Oh!

Oh, Constable!

What a relief to see you!

Good evening, Mrs Honeycott.

I understand you had a bit of trouble here.

It's my sister, upstairs, with my own eyes!

Awful!

Terrible!

Now, now, Mrs Honeycott, we mustn't take on, must we?

MRS HONEYCOTT: Dead!

- So I've been informed.

So, I'd best go upstairs and take a look-see.

It'd be better if you stay down there, Mrs Honeycott, with Ellen.

God save us, Madam.

DOOR OPENS CONSTABLE: Oh dear, oh dear!

Not a pretty sight.

You didn't touch anything when you found her like this?

No, of course not.

And I mustn't either, or the Inspector will give me beans.

CONSTABLE TUTS You, er... You took it for granted that she was dead?

Well, just look at her!

"The priest said he could see that she was dead."

Look here, Constable, I think you'd better know, here and now, that I am not a priest.

- No, sir?

- No.

My wife and I...

This is my wife... ..are private detectives.

We're down here looking into the theft of a diamond necklace.

Oh, the Adrington House shindig!

Oh, then, was it you two that solved it?

Actually, no.

No... actually.

It was the second footman that did it.

We all knew that.

But not so easy to prove.

How to prove a lot of things that we know.

TOMMY CLEARS THROAT Well, I'd best be getting in touch with headquarters.

TOMMY: Oh.

CONSTABLE: Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!

LOCK CLICKS Just making sure that nothing's touched.

Look here, Constable, you said you saw Miss Glen turning at the gate.

CONSTABLE: That's right, sir.

TOMMY: Are you sure she was alone?

CONSTABLE: Oh, she was alone all right, sir.

And between then and when you met us, nobody came out?

Not a soul, sir.

You would have noticed if they had?

Of course, miss.

Stands to reason.

Nobody came in or out, unless by some back way.

Until that Reilly chap, and we'd better collar him in double-quick time.

Now, I shall be back with the Detective Inspector, shortly.

Neither of you is to leave the house.

Is that clear?

- Yes.

Yes, I understand.

CONSTABLE: Perhaps you two would like to accompany me down to the police station?

Oh, dear.

CONSTABLE: Look at that!

See?

As he swung round the gatepost.

Not very bright to leave a thing like that.

That's blood, that is.

Now...

I want to make sure, once more, that none of you touched anything when you were in Miss Glen's room.

No, we were most careful.

And Mrs Honeycott only took one step into the room.

And I didn't even dare look.

But when you left the room, Mr Beresford, you didn't lock the door.

No, I didn't.

I suppose I should have done.

But when he went for help, there was only Mrs Honeycott, myself... ..and the maid in the house.

INSPECTOR: So far as you know.

- Of course.

And when you saw this man, Reilly, running from the house, was he holding anything in his hand?

I didn't notice anything.

Nothing.

- Constable?

- No, sir.

Nothing that I could see.

You'll be looking for a blunt instrument, I suppose?

Well, yes... indeed.

The poor woman's head was severely damaged, her skull fractured.

We can't find anything in the room that can have done it, or on the staircase, or in the hall.

I see.

Now, Mr and Mrs Beresford, what are your plans?

I expect you'd like us to stay in Adrington.

I'd appreciate it since you found the body.

The Grand Hotel?

- Yes.

I'll be in touch.

You wait here till the wagon comes.

Yes, sir.

Of course.

SERGEANT: How did you get into the house?

I forced my way in.

I had to find out why she'd come back to Adrington after all these years.

SERGEANT: Then what did you do?

I ran upstairs and opened all the doors until I... VOICE BREAKING: Oh, God, her head was...

I touched it.

Blood... all over my hands.

I think I may have shouted, but I don't remember very clearly!

SERGEANT: Now, sir, calm yourself, and try and tell me.

I...

I ran out.

I swung around the gatepost, that's why my handprint was on it.

Look... we were lovers once, years ago, but we never married.

I've just never forgotten her.

Where's the murder weapon?

That's what this case hinges on.

Do you think Reilly could have thrown it out of the window?

They searched the grounds.

Oh, brandy, please.

- Good Lord!

- Bulger!

Would you like a drink?

- Ah, thanks, old bean.

I thought you two had gone to London.

We thought you were having dinner with your wife.

- Ah!

BULGER LAUGHING That was a little white lie, actually.

Oh?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I went off to see Julia, er... Miss Glen.

- Did you know her before?

- Before what, old man?

Before she was Gilda Glen, when she was still Julia Manners.

Oh.

Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I did.

We've just come from the house, Bulger.

BULGER: Good heavens!

What were you two doing there?

TOMMY: After you left here earlier, she sent me a note asking for help.

For help?

About what?

TOMMY: I think she guessed I wasn't a priest.

Oh!

Oh, I see!

HE CHUCKLES I would have thought that was obvious to anyone!

Bulger, this is my wife.

Oh.

Oh, I say.

Wh... what are you two doing in Adrington?

We're private detectives working on a case down here.

- Good Lord, that's worse!

- Thank you.

- Did you see Gilda?

- No.

- And who answered the door?

- Ah, well, I didn't go in by the front door, actually.

Why not?

I'd been trying to see her for a couple of days, and the maid always answered the door and said she wasn't at home.

So how did you gain entry... as they say?

Well, I climbed through a window at the side, then up the stairs to her room.

Ah, so you knew which was her room?

Well, the door was open, I could see her theatrical trunk, er... with stickers on it, and so forth.

She wasn't there, so I came down the stairs and out the way I came.

Do you by any chance remember what time it was?

Oh, really!

Yes, I do!

It was directly after I left you, about half past five.

And I didn't see her.

We saw her at about a quarter past six.

- Oh?

What did she want?

TOMMY: She didn't say.

- Oh?

- She was dead.

What?

Oh, no, come off it.

Don't pull a chap's leg.

I don't believe you.

- She'd been murdered, Bulger.

But... who...

But who could have done such a thing?

Oh, Lord.

What the devil do I do now?

If you'll take the advice of an old chum, you'll go to the police station and tell the Inspector your whole story.

Yes.

Yes, of course.

I suppose you're right.

But what about my wife?

Well, if the Inspector checks your story and believes you... Oh, old Jeavons will believe me.

I'm not exactly unknown in these parts.

But will my wife?

TUPPENCE: What does yours say?

"A certain James Reilly has been apprehended "and will appear in court today, "charged with the murder of Miss Gilda Glen, "the well-known actress."

Oh, then a lot of kerfuffle about her career.

What about yours?

TUPPENCE: "Gilda Glen, West End star, "was brutally murdered last evening "at the home of her sister, Mrs Dorothea Honeycott.

"Miss Glen, aged 31..." Oh!

Only 31?

Oh, come on, Tuppence, where's your well-known spirit of generosity?

TUPPENCE: Sorry.

- Hmm.

"James Reilly, aged 35, of no fixed abode..." so on and so forth.

CONSTABLE CLEARS THROAT Inspector's respects, sir, ma'am, and would you please come down to the station?

Well, of course.

Any idea what about?

- Mr Estcourt, ma'am.

Good heavens!

Where is he?

Held overnight, sir.

Bulger in jail?

Yes, of course, we'll come straight away.

Thank you, sir.

BELL DINGS And a very good morning to you!

My first customers of the day!

TOMMY: Morning.

TUPPENCE: We were asked... Ah!

Don't tell me, let me guess.

You've lost your cat.

- Actually, no.

CONSTABLE: Flat tyre?

- No.

- Flat battery?

TOMMY: No.

- Assault and battery?

- Certainly not.

You've come to make a complaint against Mr Jasper Adrington for not stealing a valuable necklace?

- Oh, very funny.

INSPECTOR: I know who you are.

You're Mr and Mrs Beresford and you're here to see Mr Estcourt.

TUPPENCE: Right.

- Got it in one.

Come with me, then.

Just a bit of jollity, you understand.

No offence meant.

Not a lot happens in Adrington.

Gets a bit boring.

Well, the thing is that I asked to be held overnight.

You asked?

Good heavens, why?

Well, I'd told my wife that I'd be in London at a business dinner.

The business dinner being with Gilda Glen?

Something of the sort.

Well, we had a little problem to discuss.

So why did you ask to see us?

Well, I'll tell you, Mrs Beresford, even though I asked to be held, old Jeavons is pretty suspicious of my story.

- You did tell him the truth?

- Oh, yes, of course.

Well... all the salient points.

But not the whole truth and, er... nothing but the truth?

Well, look, it may seem strange, old man, but I'm a happily married chap, two children, that sort of thing.

I've only ever strayed from the straight and narrow... ..once.

- And that was with... - Exactly.

Stupid of me, of course.

And I wrote a couple of letters.

- Blackmail?

Oh, no, I don't think so.

That's what's so odd.

She always said that if she ever saw me again, she'd return them to me.

But what did she say when you met her in the hotel bar?

Do you know, old man?

She said the most extraordinary thing.

She said she'd become so fond of me that she wanted to keep the letters, as a sort of memento.

- Did you believe her?

- Well, of course I did.

A gentleman never doubts a lady's word.

Did she say why she was in Adrington?

Some sort of business she had to settle.

Did she mention... anything about her engagement to Lord Leconbury?

Oh, yes!

She explained the whole thing.

She said that, as she wasn't getting any younger, she had her future to consider.

You knew she was married?

Married?

Gilda?

Oh, I don't believe it!

- Why not?

Well, she was far too interested in her career.

HE CHUCKLES Between ourselves, I offered to marry her once.

Having first, of course, got rid of your wife.

Yes.

Stupid, of course.

Divorce, mind you!

When you say, "Got rid of..." Of course.

But she wasn't interested?

BULGER: No.

And said nothing at all about getting rid of her husband?

Divorce, I mean.

No!

Absolutely not.

Married?

Do we know who to?

Not yet.

So, Bulger, yesterday at half-past five, you went to the White House, you got in through a side window and spent... - Five minutes!

That's all!

And then I left!

Honest injuns!

And as far as you're aware, nobody saw you?

Nobody.

Oh.

I'm not surprised I'm a suspect.

I still don't see what we can do, though.

Well, Tommy's a bright sort of chap.

Like in the war, putting two and two together.

And I can see you're pretty keen too, Mrs B.

Thanks, Bulger.

Well, I'm sure, if you could put on your thinking caps, you'd find out who killed her, or at any rate, it wasn't me.

All right, Bulger.

We'll do our best.

I say, old man, thanks frightfully.

By the way... what did you do with your golf clubs?

BULGER: My golf clubs?

- Yes.

The commissionaire said he saw you leave the hotel with them.

Oh, yes.

Well, I left them, leaning up against the wall of the house when I climbed through the window.

And picked them up again when you climbed out?

BULGER: That's right.

Oh.

It all sounds pretty incredible, doesn't it?

Yes.

But then, so do lots of things.

Chin up, Bulger.

You saw her yourself, last evening.

Nice enough lady, I thought.

TUPPENCE: A bit nervy, perhaps.

- Well, being an actress, all those men chasing her.

TUPPENCE: Oh, what men exactly?

- Well... our Mr Estcourt, for one.

- Oh, really?

Always had an eye for the girls.

I was under the impression he was a happily married man.

Have you met Mrs Estcourt?

No, I can't say I have.

Then, there was this chap, Reilly.

You saw him last night.

Dangerous, I thought.

Quick-tempered.

Well, you know what actresses are.

Good evening, sir.

- Good evening.

Where on earth have you been?

- Oh, er, sleuthing, detecting.

- What, all this time?

May I have one of those, please?

Yes, sir.

So, what have you found out?

Well, it looks on the surface as though it must be either Reilly or Bulger.

But now I'm pretty sure they can both prove they're not the husband.

The thing about Bulger is, how do we know his story is true?

He's the sort of chap who, when he's in a tight corner, tells the truth.

Darling, look at all the plausible murderers who looked like that sort of chap.

Yes, good point.

But anyway, he left the hotel five minutes after she did.

He said he broke into the White House and went into her room but she wasn't there.

So where was she?

I think she was with her husband somewhere, trying to persuade him to give her a divorce.

Then what?

- Quien sabe?

- Sorry?

Who knows?

HE CLEARS THROAT Thank you.

So, if, er...

I might philosophise for a moment... - Well, you can always try.

- Thank you, darling.

The trouble with getting at the truth is that we're all such credulous creatures, we tend to accept evidence as gospel.

But what is it really?

Just an impression created by the mind and conveyed by the senses.

But supposing we've got the wrong impression?

Give example and draw a map.

Well, for instance, when we hear a double knock on a front door and the rattle of a letter box, we say, "There's the post."

What we really mean is, we heard a double knock on the front door... And the rattle of a letter box.

Yes.

Nine times out of ten, we'd be right.

- It would be the post.

- Well done.

But supposing, just supposing, the tenth time it's a small boy playing a trick on us.

SHE LAUGHS I'd give him what for!

TOMMY: Yes, but you see what I'm driving at.

No.

Oh, darling, of course I do!

Continuer.

Well...

I may be going potty, but I think I have an answer.

Well?

What we need is a sort of re-enactment.

I'll need you to be Gilda Glen... Oh, good casting!

TOMMY: ..Mrs Honeycott to be Mrs Honeycott... - Ellen to be Ellen.

- Exactly.

And anybody to pretend to be the murderer.

TUPPENCE: You, darling?

- Oh, no!

No, I'm Father Brown coming up with the solution at the end.

Which is?

Do you know... it's so incredible...

I'm not even going to tell you... ..until I'm sure.

CONSTABLE: Good morning!

- Oh, good morning, Constable.

CONSTABLE: Morning, ma'am.

CONSTABLE: Still hanging about Adrington?

We're rather intrigued by what happened yesterday.

But I understood that Reilly chap had been apprehended.

Open-and-shut case, my super tells me.

On the surface, it certainly looks like it.

And since he says he didn't do it... CONSTABLE: Oh, he says that, does he?

..we thought that we'd try to reconstruct the crime.

What, like they do in stories?

Yes.

Perhaps you'd like to give us a hand.

Well, I don't see why not, this is my morning break.

Of course, it'll have to be under the rose.

- Under the... - Sub rosa.

Oh, very floral.

Right, first, Ellen and Mrs Honeycott are in the kitchen, discussing supper.

The Mrs had given preference to fillet of sole as against pork chops, although I maintained that Monday was no day to venture fish.

No...

Yes... O-Of course.

So you and Mrs Honeycott are in the kitchen in here?

That is correct.

So, would you go into the kitchen, please?

Of course.

Ellen?

Start discussing supper.

Now, supposing Gilda Glen, who has her own key, mind you, lets herself in at the front door.

Darling?

With a man who was probably her husband.

Er, Constable, would you mind?

I don't know, sir, it's difficult... Come along, Constable.

Very well, Miss.

Anything to oblige.

So, whilst Mrs Honeycott and Ellen are in the kitchen discussing the merits of fish versus pork chops... Righto, darling!

..Gilda Glen and her husband come in and go upstairs.

Now, obviously, she is trying to persuade him to give her a divorce.

We're still here.

Yes, right.

Hang on a bit.

Go on arguing.

- And Gilda goes on up here?

TOMMY: Yes, that's right.

With her husband.

Constable?

Come along, husband!

Mrs Honeycott has missed all that, and comes out of the kitchen, back into the drawing room.

Mrs Honeycott!

Mrs Honeycott!

Oh, there you are!

I came from here and went back to the drawing room.

That's right, through to the drawing room.

- I'm still here.

- Hang on a bit.

TUPPENCE: And we're still up here!

- All right!

- And I'm here.

I know.

HE SIGHS Now... Mrs Honeycott, not realising that her sister is already in the house... ..starts to put her clock right.

What are you doing?

- I'm putting my clock right.

Right.

Oh, I mean, jolly good.

HE CHUCKLES Now, while all that has been going on, the husband starts to come down the stairs.

Constable, come!

Ah!

Er, would you come downstairs, please?

- Right you are, sir.

- And go out of the front door.

Mrs Honeycott!

You hear that door slam and think it's your sister coming in, but in fact... it's the murderer going out.

- And I'm dead.

TOMMY: That's right.

Yes, come down, darling, I'd like you to watch this bit.

Now, Ellen, who's still in the kitchen... Ellen!

Ah, yes, there you are.

You go upstairs to draw the curtains in Mrs Honeycott's bedroom.

She just missed seeing the murderer.

Mrs Honeycott said that she thought her sister paused before going upstairs.

But in fact, that was the moment between the front door closing and Ellen going upstairs, not Gilda Glen.

A few seconds later, there was a knock at the front door.

TUPPENCE: Yes.

Yes, but we didn't hear the scream until Reilly came in.

Yes, sir, just before he ran downstairs.

Yes.

Well, it was my bet it was Reilly who screamed, finding Gilda Glen dead.

A terrible shock for him.

Surely it must have been this Reilly person.

You're forgetting the murder weapon, Mrs Honeycott.

Nothing found on Reilly.

So... what are the other possibilities?

A grappling iron, courtesy Lord Leconbury?

Golf club, courtesy Bulger Estcourt?

Or... a rolling pin... ..courtesy... Ellen?

But, Tommy, if it wasn't Reilly... ..surely we would have seen whoever it was.

Yes... we did.

His name is Banford.

And directly he stepped out of the front door just now... ..he was arrested.

What on earth are you talking about?

A truncheon found in the marshes... ..courtesy Police Constable Banford.

Gilda Glen's husband.

Well, I'm glad we exonerated Lord Leconbury with his hobnail boots and grappling irons, shinning up a drainpipe.

And to think I nearly went for Bulger and his golf club!

Or a lump of cement.

Rather sad to realise that policemen have the same weaknesses as the rest of us.

Yes.

Not having the outlet of Reilly's violent words...

Led to violent action.

But tell me, what did put you onto his track?

I telephoned Albert in London.

He checked that a Julia Manners of Adrington eloped to Scotland with a man called Banford.

They were married, but she ditched him after a few months and became Gilda Glen.

It wasn't until a few years ago, that he returned here and joined the police force.

- Clever chap, Tommy.

- Thank you, darling.

So, what do you say to us catching that train we missed yesterday?

- Oh, yes, please!

Nothing ever happens in Adrington.

I say, you're a smart pair!

They brought in that policeman fellow and let me go.

I can't thank you enough.

TUPPENCE: Any time, Bulger.

What about a spot of bubbly, old man?

No thanks, old man, we're just off to London.

Oh.

Well, let me give you a lift, at least.

Oh, thank you, Bulger, that would be lovely!

I think he only meant to the station, darling.

No, he didn't.

He meant all the way to London.

Didn't you, Bulger?

Erm... Well, as a matter of fact...

Yes, why not?

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