01x06 - Episode 6

[bunniefuu]

Frank Parris.

He was m*rder*d!

k*lled in a hotel.

Stefan Leonida,

he wasn't the k*ller.

I want you

to read the book.

If you can see what she saw,

maybe you can help us

find her.

I investigated the m*rder

of Frank Parris,

and the evidence against

Stefan Leonida was overwhelming.

We've found the body

of Cecily Treherne

in woodland not far from here.

No!

She'd been strangled,

just like the actress

in that book of yours.

Some time between- 28

and- 38 in the evening,

she called her physician,

Dr. Leonard Collins.

He drove straight round,

but by the time he arrived,

she was dead.

You m*rder*d her.

Yes, I strangled her

in the bedroom.

I do not believe John Spencer

took his own life.

If he didn't k*ll Melissa James,

then who did?

Dr. Collins, of course.

Who in the blazes

k*lled John Spencer?

PÜThe person who k*lled

John Spencer

was me.

So, what did you think?

I told you in my email,

I loved it.

But what did you think?

I assume you have notes.

Of course I have notes.

Tell me, Susan,

do you ever read a book

for pleasure?

I read lots of books

for pleasure, Alan,

including yours.

Especially yours.

But that's not why I'm here.

Well, if you're going to

start laying into me,

I'd better have a drink.

We'll have a bottle

of the cabernet

Saint-Julien.

Of course, sir.

I hope that's all right.

Yeah, it's fine--

I won't be joining you.

I have to work

this afternoon.

I wasn't planning

to share it.

You know, Alan,

we're both on the same side.

I just want the book to be

as good as it can be.

And I don't?

You're a brilliant writer.

You're the best mystery

writer in the business.

Yes, that's what the "Mail"

said.

Yes, and we put it

on the cover.

Look, I, I know that

you find edits boring,

but it really is worth

going the extra mile.

So, tell me what's wrong.

Did you guess the ending?

No, I never do.

Well, that's something.

I have four

headline notes,

and I'm sure you can deal

with them very easily,

so, can I go ahead?

Be my guest.

Well, first of all

I found some

of the characters

a little unsympathetic.

In what way?

Well, let's start

with Eric Chandler,

who works for Melissa James.

The way you've written him,

he's very unattractive.

He can't look after himself,

he's a Peeping Tom.

He still reads comics.

I'm not sure

I see the problem.

And since you mention it,

the comic is a clue.

Really?

I don't think

you ever explain that.

Some clues aren't meant

to be explained.

I just worry

there's a possibility

some modern readers

might find him distasteful.

Well, modern readers

can read something else.

Right, okay, well,

we don't need to argue

about that now.

Let's move on.

Uh Yeah.

I'm not sure it's a good idea

to mix real people

with the characters

in your book.

Such as?

Bert Lahr, for example,

the actor in "The Wizard of Oz."

You make a point

of describing

a signed poster of the film

that's hanging in her house,

and I just worry that it

confuses two worlds--

reality and fiction.

That's another clue, Susan.

Well, you don't

explain that one, either.

That's right.

Sir?

Yes, yes,

just pour it.

And soon as you can.

I'm beginning to need it.

I only have two more notes,

and they both relate

to the last scene.

The solution?

Yeah.

Um, I just wonder

if you need

to assemble so many

of the characters

when Dr. Collins is revealed

to be the k*ller.

I mean, Oscar Berlin doesn't

really have anything to do.

But I thought you loved

that sort of thing.

Classic Agatha Christie?

Well, in that case,

why leave out

the hotel owners?

Lance and Maureen Gardner?

Surely, it should be

all or nothing.

I'll think about it.

But here's my, my biggest note.

The way you've

constructed it,

Dr. Collins is unmasked,

which is great,

and then Atticus Pünd

says that he was the person

who k*lled John Spencer,

which I loved.

So, what's the problem?

You make us wait a whole chapter

before you explain

what he means,

and I just think

it'll be so much better

if it all happened

at the same time.

I disagree.

I like the suspense.

So

What do we do now?

Um, could you just

give us some room?

Hm.

Thanking you.

Come on, Mr. Pünd.

What were you talking about

back there?

You didn't k*ll John Spencer--

we all know that.

So, what did you mean?

I should not have taken

this case, Detective Inspector.

I was asked to, by a man who

called himself Edgar Schultz

and claimed to be

an agent from New York.

Claimed to be?

Oh, yes, Miss Cain.

But whatever else he was,

he was not an American.

I told you that his timing

was of interest to me.

Yes, I did wonder

about that.

Hm, well,

it's very simple.

He claimed to have called you

from the Savoy Hotel

in London the morning before.

This would've been the same day

that he learned of

the death of his client.

He was very upset.

Perhaps,

but the flight

from Idlewild Airport

would have taken

at least ten hours.

He could not possibly

have traveled

in that time.

This may have been

all my fault, Mr. Pünd.

But I did not.

And there was something

about the way he spoke.

She was injured

during the sh**ting

of a movie with Hitchcock

five years ago,

and then moved to somewhere

called Tawleigh

in "Devonshyer"--

is that right?

It would seem to me

that a New Yorker

would be much more

likely to say "someplace"

rather than "somewhere,"

but then the accent,

it already

sounded forced to me.

It was the accent of someone

pretending to be an American.

So, he was a fake?

But why?

Because somebody very much

wanted me to investigate

the death

of Melissa James.

And that somebody

was you.

I'm sorry, Mr. Pünd.

I, I have no idea

what you're getting at.

I thought it would be very

good for your profile.

Well, yes, that's what you said,

but

Yes.

The true reason is that

you were infatuated with her.

You're a great fan

of her films, no?

Yes, I liked them.

Oh, it was more than that.

More than once, you revealed

an intimate knowledge

of her work.

A lot of the furniture

came from "The Mary Celeste."

PÜ

The ship that disappeared.

And the title of

Melissa James's second film.

Oh, look at this.

Oh, that's a prop from

one of her films.

A Turkish dagger.

It's a wicked-looking thing.

You knew what it was

because you'd seen

the film,

and you could not

contain your excitement

at visiting the home

of its star.

Oh, what a gorgeous house!

But it was a nice house.

You persuaded me to

take the case, Miss Cain.

You hired the actor

who played Edgar Schultz

because you wanted

to enter the world

of Melissa James.

Break a leg.

Thank you, darling.

You were her greatest fan,

which you made clear

when you wrote to her.

PÜND

"How can you do it,

dear Miss James?

"The screen is diminished

without you.

A light has gone out

of our lives."

Oh, yes,

I saw the letter to her

written in your hand--

presumably one of many you had

written to Melissa James--

before you made that

clumsy attempt to conceal it.

PÜND

Because of course you knew

that I would recognize

your handwriting.

Wait a minute.

Are you saying that

she k*lled John Spencer?

That is exactly

what I am saying.

And as I'm the one

who brought her here,

it is I who am to blame.

What have you

got to say, Miss Cain?

I'm not saying anything!

But why, why would

she do it?

Oh, you don't remember?

She told us herself,

when we had dinner.

But to think someone could k*ll

a woman as talented

as Melissa James

and get away with it.

I hope they hang.

I'd say that's unlikely,

Miss Cain.

PÜ

You loved her.

You loved her films.

She was everything to you,

and you could not bear

that the man who k*lled her

was still alive

when she was dead.

Yes!

But it was his fault.

John Spencer.

He said he'd k*lled her.

But that did not

give you the right

to act both as his judge

and his executioner.

Wait a minute.

What exactly happened

at Clarence Keep?

Who was at the window?

Oh, that was Eric Chandler.

The police had come to the

house, and he was concerned

that they were discussing

his own misdemeanors,

so he decided to eavesdrop

on what was taking place

in the living room.

CHUBB

That's why I'm taking him

to the station.

But you heard him.

We had him bang to rights,

and he confessed!

You can't argue with that.

Mr. Pünd!

PÜND

You will recall that

the back door to the kitchen

was only a short distance away.

PÜ

And that was how

Eric was able

to disappear so quickly.

For once, his mother

tried to protect him.

Has anyone come in here?

No, sir.

We've been here

all the time.

PÜND

But I saw.

There was mud on his shoes.

With everyone distracted,

that gave Miss Cain

the perfect moment

to seize her opportunity.

I'm so sorry, Mr. Pünd.

Sorry?

That you committed

a terrible crime

or that when you k*lled

John Spencer,

you had chosen

the wrong person?

Well

Both, really.

I will be giving you

my notice, Mr. Pünd.

With immediate effect.

I accept your resignation.

Mind your step.

Mind your head.

It's too early.

Tell them to go away.

You stay there.

Morning.

Oh, morning.

Uh, this came for you.

Thanks, Derek.

Welcome.

What is it?

It's from

Craig Andrews.

Don't open it.

My phone!

No note.

I'm sorry

I mistrusted you.

If you remember,

I once accused you

of being a k*ller.

Well, it's true.

I guess we're even.

Susan, listen to me.

I'm coming back to Crete.

I'm staying here with you.

You don't want to run a hotel.

I should have seen that.

We have the money.

We can fix the hotel.

I just need

a bit more time here.

The book was my idea--

I started all this.

And now I'm gonna finish it.

Let's go.

Yep.

Did you enjoy your breakfast?

Very much, thank you.

Um, we'd like to arrange

a late checkout.

Are you serious?

Yes-- oh, sorry,

you haven't met

my partner, Andreas.

You see, the thing is,

we have quite

a long drive today.

We're going to Norfolk

to see Stefan.

You've got permission

to see him in jail?

Yes, someone I know

arranged it.

What do you think he can

possibly tell you?

Well, uh, one thing I'd be

quite interested to know

is what it was like

being forced to have sex

with you.

How dare you--

who told you that?

You fired him because

he refused to go on with it.

He rejected you,

he'd had enough.

I fired him because

he's a thief.

No, that was Natasha,

the maid who found the body.

Everyone knows that.

Anyway, let's see

what Stefan has to say.

Well, what difference

does it make?

He confessed--

he's a convicted m*rder*r.

Well, actually, I don't believe

he did k*ll Frank Parris,

and I'm going to prove it.

Oh, I take it that's a yes

on the late checkout, huh?

How far is the prison?

It's about 60 miles?

Mm.

Are you sure

you want to come?

I'm afraid you're going

to have to wait outside

when we get there.

I've only got entry

for one.

That's all right.

I'll make sure

nobody steals the car.

I think all the thieves

are locked up inside.

You never know.

God, I've missed you.

Name?

Susan Ryeland.

I'm visiting

Stefan Leonida.

I.D.?

Ah.

Thanks.

Oh, thank you.

Why should I talk to you?

I heard on the news

Cecily Treherne is dead.

Don't you want to know

who k*lled her?

I know who k*lled her.

And who was that?

The same person

who k*lled Frank Parris.

Cecily wrote to me

just a few weeks ago.

She said she'd read a book,

a detective story.

She said she knew

I was innocent.

Do you have the letter?

I tore it up.

I published that book,

Stefan.

"Atticus Pünd Takes the Case."

It was written by a man

called Alan Conway.

You never met him?

He asked to meet me.

I refused.

If you didn't k*ll Frank Parris,

why did you confess?

Why do you think?

I don't know.

Because I'm an immigrant?

Even though I came

to this country

when I was six years old?

Because I'm a nobody?

Because I have

a criminal record?

There was a lot of evidence

against you.

Yes.

But I was asleep all night.

There was a party,

maybe I drank

too much wine.

How much?

One glass, two.

But it knocked me out.

The next thing I knew,

the policeman was in my room.

Detective Superintendent Locke?

He was the b*stard

who told me to confess.

I had no chance,

but if I pleaded guilty,

they would go easier on me.

That was what he said.

Easier?

Life with a minimum

of 20 years.

I should have

never listened to him.

The one brightness in my life,

the one dawn that gives me hope,

has been taken from me.

Tell me about Lisa.

She's evil-- she's a devil.

You were having

a relationship with her.

Not a relationship-- sex.

She threatened you?

Why else do you think

someone like me

would sleep

with someone like her?

And when I finally refused,

she fired me.

When was that?

A month before the wedding.

Well

Here's something

I don't understand, then.

Two weeks later,

you were still seeing her.

Who told you that?

You were seen in the woods.

Liam Corby.

Mm, yeah.

That was the last time

I saw her.

Thought if I gave her

what she wanted,

she would give me my job back.

But she didn't.

I told you, she's evil.

He was lying.

When?

At the very end,

when I asked him why

he went back with Lisa.

He hesitated.

He's hiding something.

It's like he's protecting

somebody.

And then all that stuff

about "the one brightness

in my life"

and "the dawn that has been

taken from me."

What did he mean by that?

Well, you should've asked him.

Yeah, a bit late now.

Can we stop for a drink?

Well, I'm, I'm driving.

But I'm not.

I'll get the drinks.

What you having?

Um

Lemonade, please.

I'll be right back.

Oh

You have found

what you are looking for?

Thought I might have

a message from my sister.

I'm not referring

to the device in your hand.

I'm thinking of

the investigation.

Oh, no, it's hopeless.

I've asked a thousand

questions

and I still don't have

any answers.

But you have many,

many answers.

Mmm

That's how it works

for the detective.

Um, I'm not a detective?

You have so much

that is in your head.

Truth, lies

Mm.

half-lies, misdirection,

but suddenly,

you see something

which may seem

to have no relevance,

but it untangles everything,

and at once,

you have total clarity.

See what?

Could be anything, um

A magpie,

a, a moonflower.

The name of

this public house,

for example.

Plough and Stars.

The Plough and Sta

Why should that ha

Susan.

Aha!

Forget the drinks,

Andreas.

We've gotta go.

Why won't you take

no for an answer?

We don't want to see you.

Yes, you do.

You can talk to me or

you can talk to the police.

It's your choice.

The first time I came here,

you did something very strange.

You answered my questions

in a way that made you

seem more suspicious,

more likely

to have m*rder*d

Frank Parris.

I don't know what

you're talking about.

You told me how much

you loved this house,

and how awful

it would have been

if you'd been forced

to sell it.

In other words, what

you were really saying was,

you had every reason

to k*ll him.

That was your assumption.

Just as you were happy

to admit

that you'd argued

with Cecily Treherne.

I mean, you could've

denied that.

You didn't even try.

Martin had nothing to do

with either of their deaths.

No, I know he didn't--

no, he's not a k*ller.

He's a pathetic fantasist

pretending to be a k*ller.

And why would I do that?

Well, um, let me think

about that.

Let's imagine

that you were trapped in an

entirely loveless marriage

with a wife who bullied you

and made you feel small

about yourself.

Get out of my house!

I haven't finished yet.

He wanted you to think he had

the ba*ls to k*ll your brother.

So, it's all been a charade.

Hm?

Trying to make me understand

the motive,

and spelling it all out.

And that business

with the car--

did he tell you

about that?

Yes, I bet he did.

Trying to scare me off

made him look like a man.

But it hasn't worked.

He's been lying as much to you

as he has been to me.

And that's why I'm here--

I want you to know

he's not a k*ller.

He's just a pathetic creep.

That felt good.

I was impressed.

How are you so sure he didn't

k*ll Frank Parris?

Because I know who did.

Let's finish the job,

then we can go.

Where to?

Home.

And where is that?

Crete, the Trifilli.

Susan

I don't want you to do anything

you don't want to do.

No, I'm not going to have to.

There's something

I haven't told you.

Nathan Parker came through.

Who?

Parker Chance Books?

I told you I was seeing them.

He's C.E.O.

And?

Well, I thought the interview

had gone really terribly,

but apparently,

he was impressed

by my frankness,

and he's offered me a job.

Andreas, it,

it's, it's freelance.

I'm like, um

I'm like an editor-at-large,

you know?

I can work from Crete

and pay somebody else

to unblock the drains.

Well, then, that's

Yeah, I know,

it's perfect, so

I'm still not at all sure

about this.

The solution?

No, all these people.

It's exactly the kind of thing

I told Alan Conway

not to do in his books.

You'll be fine.

You go ahead--

I'll be right with you.

ANDREAS

Yeah.

I didn't expect to see you here.

Are you coming in?

Oh, with your permission.

I thought you might appreciate

a little support.

I'd love it.

SUSAN

It is clear now

that Stefan Leonida

did not k*ll Frank Parris.

Cecily knew the truth,

and it was that which put

her own life in danger.

You'd better know what you're

talking about, Miss Ryeland.

I've only agreed

to be here because

Oh, you're here because

you were wrong,

Detective Superintendent.

You've always been wrong,

and somewhere inside you,

you knew it.

Do you know

who k*lled Cecily?

Yes, I do.

Then tell me.

You have to tell me.

I can't stand

any more of this.

We have to start with

the night before the wedding,

the night Frank Parris

was m*rder*d,

to see how Stefan was framed,

because that's what happened.

That was the plan all along.

It began with the dog barking.

What's that got

to do with anything?

It's the reason

Derek went upstairs.

I noticed a, a brooch

in the display

on the landing.

The figeen.

I believe someone jabbed it

into the dog

to make it bark, and that drew

Derek upstairs to the landing

just in time to see someone

who looked like Stefan

Stefan?

on his way to room 12,

the room occupied

by Frank Parris.

But it, it wasn't Stefan?

No, Derek.

It was Leo.

Who's Leo?

Leo was a male

escort

working in London.

Frank Parris was a client

of his, and Alan's book

is dedicated to both of them.

"For Frank and

In Remembrance."

Mm.

Cecily said

the k*ller was named

in the book.

SUSAN

And there it is.

So, what do we know about Leo?

Well, only what James Taylor,

who was a friend of Alan

Conway's, told me in London.

I have a feeling

he was Australian.

Alan made a joke about him once.

He said Leo had just got back

from Melbourne,

so he's probably in bed

with jet lag.

What are you looking

at me for?

I've got nothing to do

with it.

I've never met

any of these people!

Leo was doing what he did,

living as a sex worker,

because he wanted money.

And he must have been here

when Alan came to the hotel.

Why else would he have been

in the book?

But Leo is not just a name.

But Leo is not just a name.

It suddenly occurred

to me

when I was in a pub in Norfolk

just this morning.

The Plough and Stars.

Exactly.

Leo is a star sign.

And when you remember that,

everything clicks

into place.

Cecily believed in all of that,

didn't she?

Astrology and horoscopes.

Well, you told me.

Absolutely--

she read it every day.

And then there was the pendant

that she liked to wear,

an amulet,

with three stars and an arrow--

that happens to be

the star sign for Sagittarius.

When was her birthday?

December the 10th.

How about you, Aiden?

August 16.

Leo.

That, um, tattoo

on your shoulder.

It's a glyph, isn't it?

A symbol that denotes

a constellation.

I half-noticed it when I saw

the photograph in your home,

Aiden, but it was only later

that I realized

its significance--

it's shorthand

for a lion's head

and tail.

Leo, again.

According to all

of the books,

Leo and Sagittarius

are highly compatible, which is

exactly what Cecily said

when she spoke

at her wedding.

So, you're saying

I worked in London

as a male escort,

and that I was called Leo.

Yes.

That is rubbish--

I was an estate agent.

And I'm not Australian.

I've never been to Australia

in my life.

Ah, well, Alan said that Leo

was jet-lagged traveling

from Melbourne.

But he said it as a joke.

Why was that?

Well, it only becomes a joke if

it isn't Melbourne, Australia,

but somewhere much closer--

there's a town called Melbourne

in South Derbyshire.

Your mother came

from Derbyshire.

You even said so

in your speech.

And I just want to say

to my mum,

I'm so glad that you were able

to come

all the way down from Derbyshire

for today.

You were Leo?

Got it in one,

Detective Superintendent.

He met Cecily and he married her

because he wanted

all of this.

It's not true.

And you got it.

You got it-- a new life, money,

a bright future,

and you'd escaped

your sordid past.

But then the worst possible

stroke of luck.

On the eve of the wedding,

Frank Parris

checks in to the hotel,

and of course,

he recognizes you.

We might have something

in the Moonflower wing.

This is all lies.

One moment,

he's all sullen and sniffy

about his room,

the next, he's all smiles,

because he's already worked out

what he's gonna do.

The opera!

And this is when we get

to "The Marriage

of Figaro."

Frank said he was going to see

the opera that night,

but it wasn't on.

And Alan put it into

his book, too.

Why?

It, it has a wedding

in it?

It's more than that, Lawrence.

It's what this whole thing

has been about.

Control.

The opera's a comedy: it's

about a couple getting married.

The villain is an aristocrat

who tries to force one of them

to sleep with him

on their wedding night.

You're saying that, that

Frank Parris knew the opera,

and when he bumped

into Aiden,

quite by chance, on the eve

of his wedding,

he had a nasty idea.

He would do exactly

the same thing to Aiden.

Frank recognized him.

He knew Aiden's past.

And that gave him

complete power.

He would force Aiden

to have sex with him.

So, why did Alan Conway put

the opera in his book?

Well, Alan knew Frank

well.

So he must have guessed

what happened,

and included

"The Marriage of Figaro"

as a clue.

My wife was found

dead yesterday.

I was in love with her.

I don't have to listen

to any more of this.

Oh, I think you do.

Frank even pretended

that his key was broken,

and he passed it to you right

in front of your wife-to-be.

This is for you.

It's not working.

The key for you to come

to his room later that night.

But he didn't realize

you'd decided

you weren't going

to play his game.

He was a danger to you.

And you were going

to get rid of him.

You also decided that you were

going to frame Stefan.

You must have known

about his gambling debts.

So, you made sure he didn't

wake up that night.

STEFAN

Maybe I drank too much wine

and it knocked me out.

So you drugged him.

Cecily was taking

sleeping pills.

That's what knocked him out,

not the alcohol.

And then, when midnight came,

you dressed up as Stefan,

you carried his toolbox.

But first, you made sure

you'd have a witness.

It would've only taken you

a few seconds

to get into room 12.

And then?

And then you hammered

Frank Parris to death.

No.

I would advise you not to say

anything, Mr. MacNeil.

You listen to what

she has to say.

Thank you,

Detective Superintendent,

but that wasn't

the end of it.

Would've been easy for you

to get into Stefan's room.

Presumably, you had a master

key, or maybe you just took his.

You hid the money

that you'd found

in Frank Parris's wallet

and you left bloodstains

using the fountain pen

that you'd stolen from Cecily.

This is all crazy--

Stefan was my friend.

That's not true, either.

He may have been, once.

But not once you found out

that he was having a

relationship with your wife.

What?

Yes, I'm sorry to break it

to you, Lawrence,

and to you, Pauline.

Cecily was always fond

of Stefan.

They were always so close.

I mean, it's possible

the affair started

long before she met Aiden.

But of course,

she had to keep it from you.

He was an immigrant.

He had a criminal record.

It was Cecily.

In the wood.

Yes, that's right, Liam.

You assumed

it was Stefan and Lisa.

It never occurred to you

that he might be involved

with both sisters.

That's the real reason

you fired him, isn't it, Lisa?

You found out.

Look, I don't believe it--

I won't believe it.

Cecily wasn't like that.

I'm afraid the evidence

is right in front of your eyes,

Lawrence.

Your granddaughter,

Roxana.

Does she look anything

like Aiden?

Or does she remind you

of someone else?

Stefan-- oh, my God.

He's spent seven years

in jail because of you!

He confessed!

Yes, he confessed because

you made him confess,

and you're gonna have

to live with that.

But even now,

he's protecting Cecily.

He didn't tell me the truth, but

he said something quite strange.

The one brightness in my life,

the one dawn that gives me hope,

has been taken from me.

Cecily chose the name

of her child.

Roxana is quite a common name

in Romanian.

It means brightness.

Or dawn.

At least there's one good thing

that's left

out of all this.

I hope it's a consolation

to you.

You k*lled Cecily.

You took her to the woods

and you strangled her!

I didn't want to.

I loved her.

I tried to love her.

But she saw something in that

stupid, stupid book that

And she was going to tell.

You're an evil man.

You are a wicked, evil man!

I really do think

it is goodbye this time.

Watching you,

it was a master class, Susan.

You certainly have

no need of me.

And yet

What?

Alan Conway,

he dedicated his book

to Frank and Leo.

He also drew on

"The Marriage of Figaro," but

I wonder

Go on.

Are you sure there isn't

something else

you've missed?

What do you think?

It's the new menu.

Oh!

Looks good.

And good news--

we've had a cancellation.

When?

First two weeks of September,

two rooms.

Fantastic-- I'll let Katie know.

It'll be lovely

to have her here.

Mm.

What are you doing?

I'm just worried

that I missed something.

Susan.

Mm-hmm?

Cecily was found.

Aiden is going to spend

the rest of his life in prison.

Stefan is back with his

daughter-- you solved it all.

And you even got paid,

so what else is there?

Something.

Are you coming to bed?

In a minute.

It's almost midnight.

There's gotta be

something.

An anagram,

a play on words--

something

hidden!

It's gonna drive you mad.

If it doesn't drive you mad,

it's gonna drive me mad.

Come to bed.

I've got it.

Hm.

Mm, thank you.

All right, tell me.

Alan wanted us to know

that the k*ller was Leo.

Leo was also a star sign.

So that's what he did.

He filled the book

with lions.

Go on.

Well, first of all,

there was the pub

at Tawleigh.

Then there was Oscar Berlin.

It is the work of almost

three years, Melissa.

With his script.

It was all

about Richard the Lionheart.

The comic that Eric read

was the "Lion."

Alan told me that was a clue.

That was why he insisted

on Bert Lahr.

He plays the cowardly lion

in "The Wizard of Oz."

Yes.

The stained-glass window

in the Church of St. Daniel.

The lions' den.

Yeah!

And, most of all,

Algernon's number plate.

I mean, that really said it all.

I mean, it goes on and on,

and I've probably

missed half of them,

but that was his secret message.

There were lots of lions.

So that's it.

It's over!

We, yeah, may, maybe.

But you know Alan--

there might be something else.

There's nothing else--

it's enough.

Please, Susan,

don't be angry with me,

but it's time

to finish with all this.

I think you've allowed

Alan Conway

to do enough damage

to your life.

You might be right.

Of course I'm right.

I want you to forget

about all this

and come out with me tonight.

Where are we going?

ANDREAS

The Psychro Cave.

It's also known

as the Cave of Zeus,

because they say

he was born here.

Mm.

Why have you brought

me here, Andreas?

'Cause it's one of the most

beautiful places in Crete.

Hm.

And I think

you've had your head

so buried in Alan's books,

his documents, his life,

that you've forgotten

about the moon

and the stars.

You're a true romantic.

I'm Greek.

We're all romantic.

I brought something with me.

I thought I might need it.

What is it?

It's everything

that James gave me

and all my notes

from Branlow Hall.

I don't need them.

Are you sure?

I've never been so sure

of anything in all my life.

Then let's make an offering

to the gods.

To thank them for bringing us

back together

and to release you

from the dark shadows,

the memories

of what we've left behind.

An offering to the gods.

Thank you.