01x08 - Nemesis

[bunniefuu]

Everything's tied up now, Mr Rafiel.
Nothing outstanding.

Only one thing.

Only one thing.

I double-checked. I was sure.

- Only Michael.
- Michael?

My son.

Do you believe in fate, Miss Kurnowitz?

- I...
- Of course.

Nemesis.

- Are you ready?
- Yes, Mr Rafiel.

We got a web to weave!

Well, Lionel, I don't know what to say
that might be of any comfort.

- Perhaps it's all for the best.
- Mm.

So many marriages end disastrously
these days.

I'm sure you tried very hard, dear.

Of course, Aunt Jane. I have.

Wouldn't it have been better to have
stayed at home and seen it through?

I tried to stay at home.

- I'm sorry?
- Celia changed all the locks.

- She locked me out.
- Oh, poor Lionel.

Well, you have been in the wars.

I hope the contrast won't be
too much for you.

St Mary Mead is really very...

Yes, quite.

I thought you were
that bloody nurse for a moment.

- The angels?
- They've accepted.

- And the brochure to the Temple?
- Yes.

The professor has accepted and the airplane
tickets are on their way to the archdeacon.

Good. It's up to her now.

Thousands of years ago,
she had a measuring rod,

a sword and a whip.

It's called a scourge.

She rode about in a chariot
driven by griffins.

Nemesis.

Last time I saw her,
she was wearing a pink woolly shawl

- Leave that with me.
- Yes, Mr Rafiel.

Evening, sir.

Thank you.

Oh, poor Mr Rafiel.

- Someone I once knew has died.
- Oh, I'm sorry.

It's not an uncommon occurrence at my age,
but, oh, Mr Rafiel was so full of life.

- Do you mean Rafiel, the millionaire?
- Yes. Here.

I once helped him to prevent a m*rder.

He called me Nemesis.

"Jason Rafiel, self-made millionaire.

"In his private paradise
on the island of La Rocheverte...

"Jason Rafiel died on Tuesday
after a short illness."

He was a valued client, Schuster.

He was an old rogue, Broadribb...
and he still is a client.

Yes, he keeps us busy
from beyond the grave.

He does.

Poor Lionel. I know you've nowhere to go,
but aren't you most dreadfully bored?

Not at all, no. No, I like it.

It's... I...I mean I'm not...

No, it's just that I'm very conventional.
I like peace and quiet and...

...well, boredom.

No, I'm fine. I'm perfectly all...

- Perfectly, um...
- Oh, a Letter from Mr Rafiel's solicitors.

How strange.

How very strange.

Marmalade.

Oh.

Aunt Jane?

- Most perplexing.
- What is? The letter?

Mr Rafiel wants me to investigate something
I can only take as being a...

But he tells me nothing about it.

What kind of crime, if it was a crime.

When it was committed, where, anything.
I'm most bewildered.

It's like being asked to do a
crossword puzzle without any clues.

Well, must be something else.
I mean, there must be something.

Oh, there is, yes.
I'm to go and see his solicitors.

I wonder what she'll be like.

She's elderly, so she'll be punctual.

Ah.

I must say, Schuster,
I feel a little embarrassed.

- How much are we supposed to reveal?
- "The basic facts." If asked.

Yes. Yes, indeed.

It makes it very awkward.

Mr Rafiel was always such a difficult client.

- A coach tour?
- I'm afraid so. Er, that is to say, yes.

I'm a Little embarrassed, Miss Marple,
in that I have so Little to tell you.

I have two tickets for this particular tour
to be put at your disposal.

The second is in case
you would like to take a companion.

Thank you. Yes, I see, yes.

The financial reward will be yours
when you have completed your investigation

to your own satisfaction

or at the end of a year, unconditionally.

Yes, but this is a little awkward.
How shall I know if I've been successful?

Ah.

Well, we're advised that you'll know
you've been successful...

...when you've been successful.

Yes, I see. I see how that could be.

Um...l think, Broadribb, the dear lady might
like to know how much the reward amounts to.

Oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Schuster.
£20,000.

- That is a very large sum of money.
- Not as large as it used to be.

Oh...well..

- Partridges.
- Madam?

Partridges are very difficult to get
and rather expensive.

I think I should enjoy a partridge all to
myself and perhaps some marrons glaces.

Yes... Oh, tell me,
didn't Mr Rafiel have a son? Michael?

Yes, er...a rather delicate matter, that.

I'm afraid there was an estrangement
between him and his father.

He was, um... A scandal...

- A scandal, you say?
- Yes, a nasty business.

He was suspected of
being involved in a m*rder.

- And when was this?
- Oh, a number of years now.

- How many?
- Um... Broadribb?

Seven or eight?

- And are you in touch with Michael Rafiel now?
- No.

After the scandal, we understand
he went abroad for some years.

After he returned to this country,
we heard he was living among the homeless.

- Oh, dear, dear.
- Tramps and down-and-outs and so on.

But to all intents and purposes,
he's disappeared.

- Well, could he be dead?
- He could be, yes. He's not been declared dead.

- Now, may I impose on you both?
- Of course.

I should like to know the exact
circumstances of this m*rder.

Perhaps you could follow the itinerary
and write to me at one of these places.

Yes, of course, Miss Marple.
So you will go on the tour?

That is what Mr Rafiel intended.

- And a companion?
- Yes, yes, I think I shall take a companion.

Hello, Miss Marple. It is Miss Marple,
isn't it? I'm Madge. How do you do?

And you must be Mr, um...

How do you do? “Peel.

Absolutely. Well done, Madge. Good.

I've been told to look after you like
the Crown jewels. Strict instructions.

Let me show you to your seats.

- How much is that?
- [DRIVER) Two and three, please.

There you are.

It's right between the wheels,
so it's a most comfortable seat.

I'm so sorry. Would you like to sit here?
Thank you.

I do hope you'll both be very comfortable
and, of course, if there's anything...

Well, I'm sure you'll... Right, well...

Oh, er...your fellow passengers.

- We find it helps to break the ice, you know.
- Thank you.

Well, I'll be off now. Thanks. Right. Bye.

Helpful girl

Yes.

That woman looks familiar.
What do you think, Lionel?

[LIONEL) Yes, she stands out, doesn't she?
Rather academic.

An archaeologist, perhaps?
Digging up the Near East.

Oh, of course. Miss Temple.
Elizabeth Temple.

- She was headmistress of St Agnes, you know.
- Oh.

- Ah-ha.
- Yes. I read an account of her retirement.

Oh. Well, how lucky we are.

Congratulations, Aunt Jane.
"Elizabeth Temple." Quite right.

[MISS MARPLE) And who's that, I wonder?

- There's a Professor Wanstead listed.
- Really?

[LIONEL) Doesn't say what of.
Professor of, I mean.

This is turning into a very
distinguished gathering.

[RAFIEL) 1 imagine you knitting headscarves
and that sort of thing.

If that's what you prefer to go on doing,
that's your decision.

But if you prefer to serve
the cause of justice,

I hope you find it interesting.

Do you remember this?

”Let justice roll down like waters

”And righteousness like
an everlasting stream.”

Oh, how magnificent.

Hemerocallis fulva.
I can never get mine to look like that.

I expect you could.
Tell 'em to cheer up or be dug up!

- Poor Lionel. I'm afraid this is very boring for you.
- Oh, not at all, Aunt Jane.

This is new experience for me.

Life at St Faith's, you know, it isn't
exactly the Boulevard des Anglaises.

Look here, you're not too tired?

Well, do you know, I believe I am a little.

I think I saw a seat over there.

- I shall sit down and have a rest.
- I'll get you an ice-cream cornet.

Oh...yes...thank you.

I'm not surprised.
I'm fairly shattered myself.

Have you come to see the houses
or the gardens? Declare yourself.

Horticulturalist or historian?

A vanilla comet, Aunt Jane.

- Oh, I'm so sorry.
- That's all right. Excuse me.

Here we are, Aunt Jane.

Thank you very much.

That's most interesting.
We do all seem to like the same places. Oh.

- May I join you both?
- Oh, please do.

- Well, I think I should feel
a little presumptuous.
- No, please.

Well, Aunt Jane... Well, no,
I mean we both did, actually,
oddly enough, but Aunt Jane...

It was one of her little ideas,
you know.

Well, what we were wondering was whether
you might not be on some sort of pilgrimage.

You remind me of Mrs Jamieson who
came from Cheshire to St Mary Mead
to look at the church.

The church? From Cheshire?

I mean, it's all right as churches go,
but...Cheshire?

The point being that Mrs Jamieson had been
very happy in St Mary Mead a long time ago.

Are you on a pilgrimage?

- Yes, you're right.
- Really?

In what way?
I mean, are you visiting an actual shrine or...?

Abbey Ducis used to be
an old stamping ground of mine.

I'm, er...looking for an explanation
of something that's puzzled me for years.

So you chose a tour?

Yes. A brochure Landed on my doormat
a week or so ago.

Abbey Ducis was mentioned on the itinerary.
it seemed like fate was giving me a nudge.

I must say,
I didn't expect congenial company as well

Your father's will
is a somewhat complex document.

I don't care if it's a three-volume novel,
Mr Broadribb.

- I want to hear it.
- Very well, then.

Ah, Miss Wimpole.

- That's not really Mr Rafiel's son, is it?
- I'm afraid it is.

Would you make a cup of tea, Miss Wimpole?
This may take some time.

- "..As previously ordained."
- That bit. In English.

In the vernacular. What does it mean?

- It means you inherit £2 million
and various...
- If...

- "Always providing that..."
- Don't give me the jargon, Broadribb.

If?

If you agree to live in the home
that your father made over to you
at the time of your engagement.

Rafiel House, Abbey Ducis.

- You are to maintain both it and...
- That's the only way I get it?

Mr Rafiel, it is one of the
finest houses in England.

Is it the only way?

Yes, I'm afraid so.

Otherwise nothing.

- You met, I take it, with a negative?
- As you saw.

I have the details Miss Marple requested.

We'll put them in this afternoon's post.

To, er...Stourton.

[MISS MARPLE) I had the tour as a gift.
All expenses paid by a friend.

Have you heard of Jason Rafiel?

- [MISS TEMPLE) He was the friend?
- Yes. Yes, it was in his will.

How strange.

Yes, I've heard of him. He contributed
once or twice to educational projects.

- He had a son, you know.
- Oh, yes, yes, I know.

One of my pupils...Verity...

She was a...a shining girl

Not academically bright nor was she
very attractive, not showily attractive.

Not clever, not athletic.

She was an orphan,
she had no money, no home.

Yet there was something in her nature.

Perhaps it was goodness.

- You believe in such things?
- Oh, yes, yes.

I believe in evil, in everlasting life,
and...oh, yes, goodness, yes.

Perhaps... Perhaps it was goodness.

What happened to her?

She was engaged to Mr Rafiel's son.
Michael Rafiel.

- But she didn't marry him?
- No.

Why not?

Whether she would have in the end,
I don't know. She died before she could.

She died? How?

She was k*lled.

- But why?
- Love.

I don't know.

Love, I think.

Love.

Oh, look,
I think it's clearing up a little.

- Know anything about the professor?
- No.

But our Little tour seems a
surprising choice for a man like that.

- I agree.
- Do you know what he's professor of?

Yes. Criminal psychology.

Really?

Well, we ll.

- Thank you, Madge.
- Now, then, Mr Peel

Excuse me. Miss Marple?

Oh, yes. just over there.

- Miss Marple?
- Yes?

Oh.

Miss Temple said that Verity Hunt
died of love.

Yes?

Broadribb and Schuster say here
that she was m*rder*d.

How on earth do they know that?

Because the man arrested for her m*rder
was Mr Rafiel's son...Michael

- Where are you from?
- I said you shouldn't do it.

- Where are you from?
- Leave the poor sod alone, eh?

- Can't stay here. Obstructing a thoroughfare.
- For rats.

- Leave him.
- Where are you from?

I come from Tipperary.

Leave him to me.

Make sure you move him.

Verity Hunt's body was found in a ditch


Michael Rafiel and the girl were lovers.

Was that the "love"
Miss Temple was talking about, I wonder?

Ah, I see what you...
Yes, love in death and all that. Hm.

Was Michael Rafiel found guilty?

No. He was arrested, as I say,
but was never brought to trial

That seems to me very significant
in the circumstances.

How? Oh, I see.

You mean you can't be tried for a crime
of which you've been acquitted.

Exactly.

Michael could still be tried
for the m*rder of this girl.

Exactly.

Abbey Duds tomorrow.

- I'll book us in. You stay here.
- Oh, thank you.

Sorry to interrupt.
Is this the historic thing? Tour?

- Historic Homes and Gardens. Absolutely.
- Excellent. I'm looking for a
Miss Jane Marple.

- Ah...
- Oh, well, I'm her godson.
Perhaps I could...

Ah, yes, thank you.

I was hoping very much that she'd come and
stay with us. Hotels are so dreary, aren't they?

- Well, she's...just in the lounge.
- Oh, thank you.

Right, now, who's next?

I'm Lavinia Glynne, by the way.

My sisters and I have the old manor house
over the way.

Anyway, we heard Miss Marple
was coming, do you see?

- You heard she was coming?
- Yes.

We have a mutual friend, it seems.
Mr Rafiel. He wrote to us before he died.

Asked us to cosset her when she came,
told us the dates and everything.

Well, that's extraordinary, isn't it?

He seems to have planned it
down to the last... Hmm.

Oh, he was a great planner, Mr Rafiel.

Well, he was a tycoon, wasn't he?

We were wondering whether she'd like
to stay with us for a couple of nights.

Yes, well, I'm sure she'd love to, love to.

She's not ultra keen on...

As a matter of fact,
she finds them a bit impersonal.

Mind you, that's what I like about them.
And getting your shoes polished, of course.

- But she doesn't.
- Good, good, I'm so pleased.

Mr Rafiel didn't tell us a man was coming,
but perhaps...

Last-minute decision, really. Aunt Jane
thought it'd be good for me. Never mind.

Oh, I see what you mean.

No, well, actually, I'm terribly...

Would you think me very unsociable
if I opted to stay on here at the hotel?

- An old professor on the tour relies on me.
- Of course, of course. Not at all.

No, no, of course you must.

- Let's break the good news to Aunt Jane.
- Yes.

- What is it?
- She's going to stay with friends of Rafiel.

Damn.

Aunt Jane.

Aunt Jane?

Oh, Lionel, dear. Yes, yes.

- Oh, I do wish I were cleverer.
- What's this, Aunt Jane?

There's something going on
and I don't know what it is.

I know it's there, but I...
I can't work it out.

What do you mean?

Well, I'm being confided in
and I'm also being watched.

Have I enemies? Or are they friends?

The more I think about this problem
Mr Rafiel's set us, the surer I feel
it has to do with his son.

I want you to inquire about Michael Rafiel
everywhere you go.

Everywhere.
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker.

- Yes, of course. I'll have a go, I'll ask.
- Well, that'll be a great, er... Yes.

- Perhaps you should stay on here at the hotel
- Oh, no, no.

Mr Rafiel intended me to go to the
manor house and that's where I'm going.

Come in and meet my sisters.

Only one, I'm afraid. Hello.

Clothilde Bradbury-Scott.
Anthea's barging round in the garden.

- Garden's where she dreams. How do you do?
- Oh, how do you do?

- Here she is.
- Oh, Miss Marple, hello!

How lovely! How Lovely of you to come!
How gorgeous!

Hello. I'm Anthea.

Oh. How do you do?

Well, if you'd like to sign there, sir.
That's it.

No, that Rafiel fella was a rotten egg,
whatever they do say.

Law couldn't pin nothin' on him,
but that don't give him his innocence.

- And your driving licence number there, sir.
- Oh, yes.

Yes, yes, I heard he was a bit of a...

Still, if you're young and you've got money,
it must be a terrific temptation.

- I'm not exactly young and if I had money...
- We reckon he got away with m*rder.

Ah.

Had a dirty reputation before that,
and a manner.

Wasn't liked, wasn't welcome.
Anyway, he did go. We saw to that.

Here we are, sir.

There we are, sir. Well, pleasant driving.

- Oh, thank you.
- We did rid ourselves of that Rafiel fella.

How did you manage that?

There's some creatures as you do smoke out,
some as you put salt on their tails.

With your fellow creatures,
you just tell 'em, don't you?

- Mr Peel, do you know where I'll find your aunt?
- She's been invited to stay at the manor house.

Oh? She didn't say
she knew the Bradbury-Scotts.

No, she didn't, actually. It was another
of the post-mortem arrangements.

Mr Rafiel arranged it. It's amazing. I'm counting
on him to plan next term's timetable for me!

- It was Mr Rafiel who knew the Bradbury-Scotts.
- I see.

She's coming to the hotel on Saturday
if you want to see her.

Oh, yes. Thank you. I see.

Thank you, Mrs Adams. No, I only moved
back here a few years ago when Alistair died.

It seemed the thing to do -
to join the girls.

- We're a local institution.
- I think we are.

- Always have been.
- "There go the Bradbury-Scott girls in full sail"

Do you remember, we went everywhere
together before I was married?

- The toast of the county.
- Oh, we were so...

just like the Wyndham Sisters. Now we're
just the batty old dears who live in a ruin.

Speak for yourself, Anthea dear.
I see it somewhat differently. My Library...

ls a ruin. Bits of it keep falling down.
Look at the bakery, the stables.

The old laundry house.
Everything's decaying.

It's horrible! Rats, damp, worms.
There are spiders in every corner...

Anthea.

My library is my Life work, really.

I've made a collection of local history.
Cultural and social history and so on.

- People write to Tilly from all over the world.
- It gives me something to do.

What do you dream of in your Library,
Clothilde dear?

What comes to you when you're sitting
by the fire? Who comes to you?

- Just Daddy?
- [LAVINIA) Girls, girls, come, come.

Our life is very rich, very blessed.

What are your plans, Miss Marple?
We'd be delighted to show you round.

Anthea and I. Clothilde has her work, of course.
But we could.

Our church - rather splendid. And there are
lots of nooks and crannies round about.

Thank you very much,
but my godson is to be my chauffeur.

He's hired a car from a garage in Abbey Ducis.

Well, if we can help in any way. Some of
the houses round here are quite superb.

- Rafiel House used to be lovely.
- Rafiel House?

- Our Mr Rafiel?
- Yes, indeed.

- He lived here? I had no idea.
- Absolutely. Until his sweet Little wife died.

Then he went back to London.

The place has got quite a history.
Hasn't it, Tilly?

Yes, it has. It was built in the 18th century

by a family who made a vast fortune
out of the fur and timber trade.

It was quite run-down when Mr Rafiel bought it,
but he restored it magnificently.

His...son Lived in it for a while,
but does so no Longer.

So Mr Rafiel lived in Abbey Ducis.

I should've guessed.

Did you know his son?

A bad lot.

Conventional wisdom nowadays seems to be
that young men ought to be a bit wild

and it's they who turn out right in the end.

Well, Michael Rafiel started bad
and continued worse.

Will you excuse me? There's a book
I have to get back to the library in
Kingminster. I must finish it.

- Of course.
- I'm so glad you were able to come,
Miss Marple.

Yes...perhaps I shouldn't have...

But Clothilde mentioned him first.

Do you know, I really think I ought to go
and see if Mrs Adams has fed Tenzing.

L...l think she takes that fish home
for her own wretched mog!

It's so lovely to have you here, Miss Marple.

My poor sisters.

What you have to understand, Miss Marple,

is that my sisters' relationship
with Jason Rafiel

wasn't simply that of good friends
and neighbours.

They were united by grief.

- How?
- They both lost children.

But Michael was his only child and...

Jason Rafiel lost Michael
just as surely as my sisters lost Verity.

- Verity?
- Verity Hunt.

The girl Michael was involved with,
the one who was k*lled.

My sisters were Verity's guardians,
Miss Marple.

[RAFIEL)
You've got a flair for evil, that's what.

A nose for it.

Oh, have I indeed?

Well, I wish it would manifest itself.

- Um...may I?
- Oh, yes, of course.

- Your aunt and I may share a common interest.
- Really?

Clothilde and Anthea Bradbury-Scott
were Verity Hunt's guardians.

Ah, I see. Were they?

It's so difficult to know
what to do for the best.

- You have a car, don't you, Mr Peel?
- I'm sorry?

- I saw you parking a car.
- A car, yes, yes, I have.

I wonder if I may impose upon you.

How would you describe that, Mr Peel?

Apart from being beautiful.

[LIONEL) A mansion under English skies.

"Beautiful as a wreck of Paradise."

Looks as though Prince Charming
ought to turn up and wake it with a kiss.

Quite. Quite so.

Do you believe in the spirit of place?

Oh, the jolly old "genius loci", eh?

Well, it's a vexed subject, but...
yes, I do personally, as it happens. Yes.

- Where are we, by the way?
- Rafiel House.

Really?

I was about to say that I feel
that this could be a very happy place.

Oh, I agree.

Oh, yes, I fear I agree.

This was the tennis court.

Every Sunday afternoon, weather permitting.

- We were quite famous for our tennis parties.
- Oh, yes.

Tilly was a terrific server.

That briar patch was old Bourbon roses once.

And over there...

Oh, Lord, "the nymphs are departed".

I don't know why I'm doing this.
It makes me so sad.

The greenhouse.

[MISS MARPLE) Oh, yes. Polygonum
baldschuanicum. A very fine example.

Is it?

Clothilde planted it.
It's certainly taken over.

- Would you like a sherry before lunch?
- Um...no. Thank you very much.

There's a Letter I'm afraid I must write...

...I've, um...decided to write.

Yes.

Rafiel House, eh?

They do say as it be haunted.

I won't be a moment, sir. I left yours
till last as I thought you was going out.

No, they do say the girl do walk abroad
at Rafiel House.

- Girl?
- The girl who was m*rder*d by that Rafiel boy.

Mad as a hatter, of course, but that's
what makes them do it. There were others.

- Others?
- Ooh, yes.

Norah Brent for one. She disappeared.

My Auntie Rene said she saw her in Blackpool,
but she's blind as a mole and thick as slurry.

Some of the girls say she's gone off to America.

That's only 'cause she was always going to the flicks.

No, what I say is Rafiel done her in.

He should've hanged for the other girl -
that Verity Hunt.

But the rich can do anything, can't they?

Still, we didn't like him being round.

He got the message in the end.
And good riddance.

There, sir, that's you done.
You'll be going off tomorrow, will you, sir?

To the castle at Kingminster, on your little tour?

Kingminster? No, no.
I promised my aunt the local churches.

She thought the castle
might be a bit much for her.

Right you are, then, sir.

Yes, Mr Walker, that's fine. Bye-bye.

Can this go by hand, do you think?

Yes, of course, madam.

- Yes, sir?
- Kingminster.

Return.

- And a dog.
- One pound seven and six, please, sir.

Good morning. Hello, Miss Temple. Well done.

- How's the stiffness today, Mr Maclaren-Ross?
- Much better, thank you.

You look so much better. Well done.

Oh, Professor! Terrific!
Gosh, you are game.

What sensible shoes.

- Anyone seen Miss Cooke and her chum?
- [MAN) No.

- Well?
- Oh, St Peter's first, I think.

I assume the girl was buried there.

The windows were enlarged in 1340

and the stained glass tells the story
of the family through the ages.

If we can move on now, ladies and gentlemen,
up the stairs, we'll come to the library.

What are you looking for here, Aunt Jane?

I wish I knew, Lionel, dear. Come along.

Now, the galleried library was designed
by James Wyatt in 1790

and the gallery is graced by statues
of the greatest of the English poets.

They're all life-size, except Shakespeare

who is done bigger as befits
his status as a literary giant.

The glass cases contain manuscript poems,

Letters, autographs and incunabula.

If we could move on through the doors
and down the stairs, we'll find ourselves
in the dining room.

Right, come on, g*ng.

"..And I am re-begot
of absence, darknesse, death,"

"things which are not."

What the...

Oh, my God.

Her name? Er...Temple. Elizabeth Temple.
CBE, I think.

Oh, God, how dreadful!

- God!
- Excuse me.

- Officer, Professor Wanstead, Home Office.
- Ah, yes, sir.

He had a cloth cap on, tweed or something,
and a garish sweater. I saw him very briefly.

- Understood, sir.
- I'm staying at the Golden Boar, Abbey Ducis.

Very good, Professor.
I hope the news from the infirmary...

Quite, quite.

[LAVINIA) Ah, there she is.

Did you get what you wanted?

I saved you an éclair, old thing.

Isn't that...

That's the professor from that tour party,
isn't it?

Golly, what a to-do.
That one's with the tourists, as well.

No.

What's going on?

[MISS MARPLE) A very plain stone

for someone who has been loved
as much as she has, don't you think?

Yes.

- Thank you.
- Here we are, Aunt Jane.

Should be quiet up here.
Like me to fetch you a cup of coffee?

No, thank you. Listen.

I heard that when we were in the church.

Well, well.

- Ah, Professor Wanstead, hello.
- I've got some bad news, I'm afraid.

- Miss Temple has been seriously injured.
- Miss Temple?

- What do you mean, seriously?
- She hasn't recovered consciousness yet.

The answer is, we don't know.
I don't think she'll live.

You said it could have been an accident,
Professor.

- Does that suggest a possibility that it was not?
- Possibly not.

A stone statue fell from the gallery.

I saw a man. He was wearing a cloth cap
and a brightly coloured pullover.

Hardly the sort of thing you'd wear if...
well..

No.

Not unless you wanted to be conspicuous.

Oh...ghosts, ghosts.

Mr Rafiel is a ghostly puppet-master
jerking us this way and that, setting us puzzles,

and laughing at us from beyond the grave.

Oh, I am sorry, Professor,
you can hardly know what I'm talking about.

I have to confess, I do, I'm afraid.
I too am one of Mr Rafiel's puppets, Miss Marple.

Before Mr Rafiel died, I received
a summons to come on this tour.

- Ah.
- Sorry?

Nothing. Sorry.

Er. . phase.

Yes, anyway, as far as I can tell,
I was to remain in the shadows,

a sort of...supernumerary player,

in case, um...

Well, anyway, you've been in good hands.

But what was your own interest
in this affair, Professor?

Mr Rafiel's other puppets were involved,
it seems.

I'm a psychologist.
I specialise in criminal psychology.

I've been attached to the Home Office
for some years.

I assessed Mr Rafiel's son Michael
when he was first arrested.

There seemed every likelihood then
that he'd be charged with m*rder.

And was he insane?

No.

No.

Tell me, Miss Marple, may I ask
what you've discovered so far?

So far, it just concerns a m*rder*d girl
That's all really. Verity Hunt.

Miss Temple taught her,
the Bradbury-Scotts were her guardians,

and Mr Rafiel's son Michael
was engaged to be married to her.

But the most significant fact of all
was that Verity Hunt was Loved.

Miss Temple hinted that she died
because she was Loved.

I do wish Miss Temple had said more. You don't
think she said more to anyone else, I suppose?

Well, she wrote a Letter.
Well, she said she was going to.

And as far as I can remember...
I got the impression she didn't want to write it.

- It was going to be a bit of a pig.
- Yes, yes, it would be.

What did she know?

Whom did she know, I wonder?

It occurs to me, Professor, Miss Temple
was not a woman to waste her time.

She thought someone in Abbey Ducis
would tell her something.

Either that person was her attacker...
or else...

- Or else what, Aunt Jane?
- Or there is somebody else in this business.

Somebody we know nothing about.

Oh.

Oh.

I think we should look at that.

"Telephone message from Mrs H Oldcastle.

"Archdeacon Brabazon
left this address 4 or 5 years ago."

That's certainly somebody
I know nothing about.

No, indeed.

An archdeacon?

No, I'm sorry, I've got a very bad line.
I can hardly hear you.

Hello, Butlers. Wrong way.

Oh, Colonel Walker, not that way!

Mrs Maclaren-Ross, you really...

Miss Marple, could you?
The King Alfred Room. Thanks so much.

Could you, Mr Peel? Thanks.

Oh, God, come on, flock.

Miss Rumley, Miss Rumley!

Professor Wanstead.
Professor Wanstead, telephone.

- The infirmary, sir.
- Oh. Wanstead speaking.

Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all sit down
just for a moment, please. Thank you.

Now, then...

...I want you all to know that Miss Temple
has regained consciousness briefly.

So we can hope...
I mean, I don't know if...

As you know, we were to have carried on
to Stratford this evening,

but I'm afraid that'll be impossible
until Monday or Tuesday.

The police need statements from everyone and
there will be a certain amount of checking up.

- You say Miss Temple asked specifically for me?
- Yes, so I gather.

- Oh. And how is she?
- Well, they don't think she'll recover.

Oh, isn't that Anthea Bradbury-Scott?

I'm sorry for those Bradbury-Scott girls.

The world's changed
and they haven't changed with it.

Elizabeth.

Elizabeth.

Jane Marple?

Yes, it's Jane Marple here.

Verity.

Ask them about Verity.

The truth.

The truth was buried with her.

There's been a change. Something's happened.

- Now that she's dead, it'll mean an inquest.
- Yes.

Yes, I suppose it will.

Tell me, um...

- What?
- Why did you really come on this tour?

- For the reasons I gave.
- Sorry, but, you know... Put it this way.

You don't strike me as altruistic. Why should
you pay attention to the whims of a dead man?

Oh, I see. For the money. Didn't I say?

Broadribb and Schuster have been
instructed to pay me and very well.

Academics don't eat off gold plates, you know.

- Professor.
- Yes?

I was thinking, apart from
this mysterious Archdeacon Brabazon,

whom Miss Temple was trying to reach
when she was m*rder*d,

I think there are three things to follow up.

- Now, Lionel, Michael Rafiel.
- Yes?

I think he should be found, don't you?

Ah, ah-ha, yes, yes, of course. I'll, um...

Mind you, according to Schuster,
he's living like a tr*mp in London.

But, yes, I'll have a go.

- Will you be...? If I go to London, I mean.
- Oh, yes, Lionel, of course I will.

- Now, Professor...
- At your service.

This young girl, Norah Brent,
who disappeared at the time of the m*rder,

I understand she Lived in Abbey Ducis.

- Well, I just wondered...
- If I might do some research for you. willingly.

Hello. We came straight over when we heard.

- What a horrid...
- Do we know how she is?

Miss Temple died at five o'clock.

Oh, my God.

[LAVINIA) I'm very sorry. Very sorry.

We came over, actually,
to say you'd be most welcome, of course,

to stay on at the manor house
as long as you like.

- That's most kind. I wouldn't be any trouble?
- Not in the least.

That's settled. Good. We'll look forward
to seeing you later this evening, then.

Thank you.

Are you sure?

Oh, yes, I'm quite sure.

That's the third line of inquiry.

Mr RafieL intended me to go there
to discover something.

Well, I haven't discovered it.

Perhaps I haven't asked the right question.

Bother it. I expect it's this close weather.

[MISS MARPLE) Verity.

Did you know her?

I'd no idea.

You do mean Verity Hunt, I suppose?

I've no idea what I mean, I'm afraid.

Poor Miss Temple said it before she died.
just that.

Verity. Of course, it means "the truth", but...

Oh. Oh, dear, have I said something I shouldn't?
I'm so sorry.

That's all right, Miss Marple.

My sisters were extremely fond of her,
that's all, and...

- She was k*lled. Quite dreadfully. m*rder*d.
- Anthea, for heaven's sake.

They found her body in a ditch.

She was a girl we cared for.

Very much.

She lived here for a number of years.

I was very fond of her.

I didn't say that you w...

She was terribly fond of you.

She...

Her life should have been...

She...

...everything.

Excuse me.

For God's sake, I didn't mean...

Oh, dear.

We were all fond of Verity.

But to Clothilde, she was like a daughter,
so we never mention her unless we can help it.

I believe I told you Michael Rafiel
was a bad lot.

Well, he was rather more than that,
I'm afraid.

as*ault, forgeries, trouble with local girls.
Stories of violence.

And then a girl in the village disappeared.
Norah Brent.

She's never been found.

Then Verity was m*rder*d.

Naturally, the police questioned Michael Rafiel.

The last time she was seen alive
was in his car.

We have no proof, of course, but...

Anyway, her body was discovered
six months later.

Clothilde had to go and identify it.

Verity had been strangled
and her head beaten in.

My sister has never got over it.

[sossnue)

No, I'm sorry, madam,
Mr Peel checked out yesterday morning.

- Thank you for your help.
- Good morning, ladies.

- So...you're not going with the main party, then?
- No, we're not.

No, we've agreed that this tragedy has made
the whole idea of the tour seem rather futile.

- Distasteful, actually.
- Yes, I agree.

- There's a memorial sen/ice on Wednesday.
- ls there? Oh, good.

- I shall go to that.
- Yes, we'll stay on for that, then we'll see.

It's left us feeling very flat.

Quite, quite.

Well...

- Better be getting on.
- Quite so.

- Mrs Brent?
- Yes.

My name's Wanstead, Home Office. Could I
have a word with you about your daughter?

- Sure you don't want anything?
- No, really, I had a coffee at the hotel

I'll just get myself an orange squash, then.

People said I spoilt her.

Well, perhaps.

You should have seen her as a kid -
Little face and ringlets.

Norah could turn a head, I can tell you.
Never lost the art of that, she didn't.

People said I should've watched her better
after Keith walked out.

Well, course I could have done.

Could have.

But you can't run people's Lives for them, and
if you don't have some fun when you're young...

Where do you think she is now?

- What?
- You sounded before as if you knew

where you thought she might be now.

- Oh, I know where she is, all right.
- You do?

She's dead, that's what.

Poor little cow.

Hmph.

Must be.

Oh, she'd go off. She'd always be off.

Scare the lights out of me, but...if it wasn't
much good, she'd be back soon enough.

It's when she was happy, it was worse.

Sometimes she wouldn't be in touch with me
for days, the little bint.

But there'd always be the call
sooner or Later, so...

I didn't worry much at first.

We knew each other, you see.

I couldn't believe it.

Not really.

Not deep down.

For weeks, I couldn't...

Then in the end, I realised...
it would be nonsense not to.

I mean, she would have been in touch
somehow, something.

Little soft cow knew what I was like.
She wouldn't wanna t*rture me.

No...

...she's dead and gone.

Someone got her...

...poor little...

Yes, I'm... I'm sorry.

Well...

...what was your interest, then?

Another girl disappeared at the same time.

Oh, yes. The Hunt girl up at
the manor house.

Yes...yes, she did.

- My Norah knew her, you know.
- No, I didn't know.

Oh, yes. Miss Hunt took quite a shine
to my Norah.

Oh, she was an innocent.
She liked to ask Norah things.

- She didn't have a mother.
- She had her guardians.

Those two old maids!

Not quite what I'd choose
if I wanted to ask what to do with a man.

No, quite, if that's...

- Well, of course. She was in love, wasn't she?
- Was she?

Yes, with that chap Rafiel
up at the big house.

Do you think he had anything to do
with Verity's death?

Oh, I don't say nothing about that.

Are you sure you wouldn't like
an orange squash?

- Bye-bye, Mrs Watson.
- Bye-bye. Good morning.

Oh, dear.

- Yes, dear?
- Oh.

- Oh dear, oh dear.
- What is it?

- Well, I make so many mistakes these days.
- Well, let's see if we can sort this one out.

Oh, well, if you could, I'd...

Yes, I...I've been extremely stupid.
A parcel.

You see, I send them clothing -
pullovers and children's woollies, you see.

- Send them to who, dear?
- A charity.

And I...I did it up and I addressed it
and I had it sent off.

When I was having my second...
I do like a large cup of tea, don't you?

- Oh, yes.
- I realised I'd sent it to the wrong address.

I meant to send it
to the London Dock Welfare Association.

I'm staying up at the manor house
and I think Mrs Glynne brought it in.

Oh, now, would that be Saturday?

Saturday? Saturday... Oh, yes, yes.

Ah, well, it wasn't Mrs Glynne, you know, dear.
It was Miss Anthea.

- Oh, was it? Oh, really? How very kind of her.
- Now, let me see, what was it, now?

The East Ham...
it was definitely East Ham.

...Women and Children's Clothing something...
Appeal, I think.

Appeal. Yes, that's it, Appeal. Yes, East Ham.

Yes, the Reverend Matthews.

Such a good family
and such a very difficult mission, yes.

Oh, my goodness, what a memory.

I'm afraid the parcel's gone off, though.

Thank you so much. You've relieved my mind.
Thank you very much.

That's all right, m'dear. Bye-bye, now.

Raff? Could be anywhere his work takes him,
couldn't he?

His work?

- 'Ere, who are you?
- A friend.

And you don't know what Raff does?

Go on! Knock off!

Miss Marple, Broadribb. Telephone message.

She has a small commission for us.
She wants us to trace a parcel for her.

- [MISS WIMPOLE) You can't go in there!
- Yes, I can.

- I'm sorry, Mr Broadribb. I'm sorry, I'm sorry...
- It's all right, Miss Wimpole. It's all right.

- Now, how about some tea?
- Tea? Certainly. Tea.

What's going on, Broadribb?

I beg your pardon?

Listen, someone...

...some bloke sniffing around after me,
asking questions.

I don't like it. Tell him to lay off.

All right?!

Now.

Well, Schuster.

- Whom do you suppose he means?
- I have no idea.

I cannot conceive of anyone wishing
to inquire after such an unsavoury person.

[PRIEST) Surely He hath borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows,

yet, O love, 'tis thou dost call,

thou wilt be our all in all.

Amen.

# Abide with me

# Fast falls the eventide

# The darkness deepens

# Lord with me abide

# When other helpers fail

# And comforts flee

# Help of the helpless

# O abide with me #

I hope you don't mind my asking, but are you
by any chance Archdeacon Brabazon?

Yes, I am.

I believe we once had an acquaintance
in common. A Mr Rafiel.

Yes, quite right. He died not long ago.

Is... Is that why you're here?

- In a manner of speaking.
- I believe I am here at his bidding, too.

There seems no other explanation.

I'd meant many times to return here
from Australia.

And suddenly there on my desk was an air ticket.

The airline assured me there was no mistake -
it was in my name.

At the airport in London, another ticket
was waiting for me - to Abbey Ducis.

I arrived here to be greeted by this tragic news.

Even that seemed stage-managed somehow.

Archdeacon, there's someone I'd like you to meet.
There she is.

Mr Rafiel's bloodhound, his avenging angel.

She looks so harmless, doesn't she?

But her camouflage is perfect
because she is, partly, just what she seems.

A gossipy old village lady.

But her logic is ruthless
and her powers of synthesis formidable.

And, above all, she never lets go.

I look forward to meeting her.

Verity, of course,
I'd known since she was a child and she was...

Well, she was blessed with a quality
of goodness and simplicity

which, at times, was quite unnerving.

Miss Temple described her as a "shining girl".

Yes, that's exactly right. She was.

She was.

It was she who first came to me.

She believed Michael would change, she said.

I tried to explain that people
hardly ever change, not essentially.

Her reply was simple.

Did I not believe in the redemption
of the individual?

I can see her now.

Her simplicity...

...her strength, her belief.

I can tell you, I felt ashamed at the time,
soiled by the world.

And when I saw them together,
I knew she was right.

I'd advised many people who were about to marry.
None were better suited than they were.

They had...a trust and understanding
of each other

which was rare, very rare.

Shining.

Mr Rafiel. Raff.

Oh, you don't know, then?

Well, he's a sort of...

Well, I don't know. A sort of people's advocate.

He'll face up to officials
on behalf of some of these poor fellows

who pass through our hands when they...

A consul populis.

He's quite an educated chap, you know.
Considered a bit of a saint.

Of course, I'm an official,
so I don't see much of the saintly side.

The Pharisees get the sharper side
of his tongue.

We're donkeys and glummocks and...
I don't know what.

Oh, Miss Marple, you're still here.
Oh, good.

Would you do us a favour
and dine with us this evening?

Oh, well, that's very kind of you. I...

I rather think I'm expected
back at the manor house.

That's jolly unfair. They've had you to dinner
every night. I bet they could stretch a point.

Do join us.
We've been having such an interesting time.

We could walk you over to the manor house
after dinner.

- Are you dining here tonight?
- Miss Cooke's offered me a place at her table.

Well, do you know, I...I don't think
the Bradbury-Scotts would mind.

I think Mrs Adams would be quite pleased
not to have to provide for an extra person.

Well, I'll..I'll telephone, shall I?
Thank you so much. I do hope to join you.

I shall drive you back to the manor house.

- I should be glad of that.
- Why are you dining with them?

Because I think that I may learn something.

Thank you, Mrs Adams.

Oh, Mrs Adams,
I'm afraid we shall need a fourth cup.

- Miss Marple should be with us any moment.
- Right you are.

- And did you learn something?
- Oh, yes.

- Goodnight, Miss Marple.
- Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Well, that was instructive.

Yes, yes, it was.

I do think it was peculiar of Jane Marple
not to dine with us.

She was probably being polite,
trying not to make a nuisance of herself.

She had ample opportunity
to see we're reduced to one sen/ant.

There was rather more to it than that, I believe.
She said she was hoping to learn something.

- I wish she played bridge.
- She was being polite, Vinny, I expect.

I'm fed up with bezique.

Will you STOP fiddling
with that wretched machine?!

God! God! God!

- Thank you, Professor.
- Are you absolutely sure?

Oh, I shall be safe enough now.

Good.

- Ready?
- Yes.

- So you're off tomorrow, Miss Marple?
- Yes. I've achieved what I came for.

My Little commission.

- Really?
- Commission? From whom?

From Mr Rafiel. I feel can tell you now.

- What was your commission?
- Such a generous man.

- I'm sorry?
- What did he ask you to do?

Well, he asked me, or rather
he relied upon me, to use my
small gifts in certain areas

and he spoke of justice.

"Let justice roll down like the water

"And righteousness like
an everlasting stream."

Yes, good heavens, I've just realised
how much I've imagined Mr Rafiel's
intentions in this matter,

but I...I feel sure I'm right.

Isn't it odd?

It all started with that poor,
delightful girl Verity, your ward.

When Mr Rafiel was dying,
he realised he wanted justice done.

He wanted her m*rder*r brought to book
at whatever cost,

so he made some arrangements.

- And do you know now who the m*rder*r was?
- Yes, I know now.

Well, I'm sure we'll all be glad
when this business is cleared up.

It's a question of proof,
the burden of proof.

I daresay I shall be able to dig it up,
but...but in the meantime...

Of course.

Tenzing.

How did you get in?

Mrs Adams said she'd put you out.
Oh, you're soaking.

Come on. Mrs Adams must have Left
a window open. We'd better go and check.

Yes, well, it's late.

I'll take this through.

Would you like a milky drink, Miss Marple?

Good evening, Miss Bradbury-Scott.

I saw your light on. I, er...wondered...

If I had drunk my milky drink?

- What?
- I haven't, I'm afraid.

I didn't think it would be good for me.

I think you know what I mean.

If you want some more milk,
I'll go and get it for you.

I shouldn't drink it if you did.

What an extraordinary person you are.

Is this a Little foible of yours or what?

Once upon a time, Miss Bradbury-Scott,
a young girl Lived in this house.

Well loved...innocent...untouched.

Too well loved, too innocent,
too untouched.

So when a young man came to claim her,
as you knew one day he must,

her very innocence was the star
which guided her to love him.

A miserable, depraved delinquent.
I don't want to talk about this.

Whatever he was, you nurtured the girl
who believed him redeemable.

She couldn't have!
God knows what he must have said to her.

My beautiful, splendid girl, she couldn't!
She'd have realised.

You never gave her the chance, did you?

The strength of your love must've been
frightening, Miss Bradbury-Scott.

How did you k*ll her?

What?

Verity was found in a ditch...

...with her head smashed.

Do you think...

“Loving that girl the way I loved her...
do you think I could have done that to her?

No, of course not.

Of course you couldn't.

Then what the hell are you talking about?

I'm talking about Verity, not Norah Brent
whom you battered to death

and then identified as Verity
when her body was found.

What an act of sacrilege
that must have been to your princess.

It must have cost you dear, that.

You put Verity to sleep just as she
had woken to the beauty of life.

She was trying to escape
the servitude of your love.

She wanted a normal woman's life.
She wanted reality.

You returned her to fairyland...

...and now...

And now?

She's safe now from any unsuitable princes.

Sleeping Beauty Lies in the ruins...

...and flowers grow round her.

Yes...yes.

No, Miss Bradbury-Scott, she's a rotted corpse
and there is no one to kiss her awake.

You...foul old woman.

You...HAG!

You won't leave here alive.

I believe I shall.

So...it's over at last.

Thank God.

I'll go to my room now...if you don't mind.

I'm sure that will be quite all right.

- You're sure?
- Quite sure.

- [ANTHEA) Tilly!
- [LAVINIA) Clothilde!

- Tilly!
- Clothilde!

Oh, Tilly!

- Clothilde!
- Tilly!

My!

Clothilde!

My!

Leave her alone! You can't help her now.

Never been happy. Never.

Even when she had Verity,
she was terrified of losing her.

She planted this in her memory.

I wanted her to get rid of it
to try to help her to forget!

[MISS MARPLE)
She would never have done that.

This marks Verity's grave.

That rather plain stone in the graveyard
is where Norah Brent is buried.

[ANTHEA) No!

Oh, thank you, Lionel. Well done.

- We'll be away now, Miss Marple.
- Goodbye. Goodbye and thank you so much.

- All in a day's work, you know. Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Professor,
I want you to meet my guardian angels.

By courtesy of Mr Rafiel, Miss Cooke and
Miss Barrow have been my bodyguards.

- Most efficient.
- Nice to have met you.

- Miss Cooke.
- Goodbye.

- Miss Barrow.
- On your way, then, Barrow.

The police have found this on Clothilde's desk.
From Elizabeth Temple.

Oh.

It confirms what you thought.

It implicitly accuses Clothilde Bradbury-Scott
of Verity's m*rder. It's extraordinary.

She offers to help her confess as if it was...

...I don't know...something quite everyday.

And it cost her her life.

The man in the cloth cap and the sweater

was Clothilde.

Miss Temple couldn't realise what danger
such a Letter would put her in.

So Jason Rafiel's faith in his son
is justified at last.

No, Professor, it wasn't like that at all.

Mr Rafiel wanted justice for the dead girl
even if it meant the sacrifice of his son.

- Do you think he'd considered that?
- Oh, yes.

I flatter myself that's why he chose me.

He knew I wouldn't flinch

even if it meant sending Michael
to the gallows.

He called me Nemesis, you know,

and he wasn't being entirely humorous.

Well...

...you've found me.

What do you want?

They know who m*rder*d Verity.

Oh!

[MISS MARPLE ) Oh, yes, isn't it?
What a paradise.

Shouldn't we go, Professor?

No, I don't think so.

What are you doing?

Well, really, I...I don't know.
I mean, I don't know.

Thank you for coming, Miss Marple.
I'm Michael Rafiel.

Oh. How do you do?

- Professor.
- Hello, Aunt Jane.

Lionel, dear, well done.

Oh, well, you know.

This was in another envelope
addressed to me. It's for you.

- For me?
- Undoubtedly.

Oh, it's from your father.

Well, well.

[JASON RAFIEL)
Thank you, Miss Marple, my Nemesis.

Shall we meet again?

Yours, Jason Rafiel.