02x02 - The Shadow of Baron Battenberg

[bunniefuu]

Thank you.

That's my absolute pleasure.

Welcome to Pranayama.

I'm Marion Grey.

You're checking in?

Yes. My wife and I.

She's just coming.

Come along, dear!

I'm coming, darling.

"Is This Baron Battenberg?"

I have no idea.

Who is Baron Battenberg?

The real question is,

"Where is Baron Battenberg?"

He vanished five years ago

after his sports car was

dredged up from the Thames.

No sign of a body.

Rumour has it

his wife, Marion, m*rder*d him.

It was quite a sensation

in the tabloids.

I should think

it jolly well would be.

The point is,

there have been sightings before

in India, Marrakesh, Istanbul.

But the family are certain

he is dead.

Well, all except his brother,

Edwin, who swears he's alive

and who just happens

to be living with Marion.

Oh, the baron's wife.

They run Pranayama together,

a couples retreat

right here in Great Slaughter.

I've had a tip off

that the overrated hack

who wrote that,

Victor Goodbody

Puffed-up little newshound

Is convinced

that the man in the picture is,

in fact, Edwin in disguise.

He's on his way

to Pranayama as we speak,

to expose either Marion or Edwin

or both

as the baron's murderers.

Well, do you think

they k*lled him?

I haven't a clue, but if

anyone's going to find out,

it had damn well better be me.

I will not be bested

by "The Times"

- Not on my own patch.

- Oh, Baron bloody Battenberg.

Apparently,

the Met are getting flak

for not investigating properly,

and they're kicking the flak

to us.

So I have to look into

a five-year-old m*rder,

if it even was a m*rder,

and Lowsley wants results ASAP.

Well, how serendipitous.

Ruth's about to look

into the very same case.

Oh, good luck with that.

I hear they're notoriously

press shy.

Oh, and you think

flashing your warrant card

- will make them confess all?

- Hmm.

You both have a point,

because you both have a problem.

Solution you go undercover

with each other

as husband and wife.

You can't be serious.

- Absolutely not.

- That's ridiculous.

Well, no one would believe for

a second I'd be married to you.

Charming.

So, Simon and Kate, how long

have you two been married?

Almost six years.

You'd get less for burglary,

wouldn't you?

My husband's sense of humour's

an acquired taste.

I've yet to acquire it.

The aura between you

It's not at all good.

We can change that, of course,

but first, I want to know,

what do you want

from each other?

Well, I just like Simon to be

a little less

- insufferable.

- Hmm, yeah.

I'd like Kate

to make more of an effort.

She's in her dressing gown

most days.

Swears like a sailor,

smokes like a chimney.

There's

that sense of humour again.

I think you two have come

to the right place.

Let me show you around.

There are various group sessions

which I'd encourage you to join,

but do feel free

to take time out for yourselves.

Sometimes all a strained

relationship needs

is a bit of peace and quiet.

Do you have children?

Yes.

Peggy, Felix, Sam, Ruth.

Stop.

We're stopping at four.

I have a feeling

you'll appreciate this.

Pools of tranquillity.

Our guests come here

for private contemplation.

It's lovely.

The whole place is.

Thank you. Edwin and I

You'll meet him

- We built it from nothing.

- Is that Edwin Battenberg?

I'm sorry to ask. It's just we saw

an article in the paper, didn't we?

- Yes.

- About him the missing baron being spotted.

- He was your husband, wasn't he?

- He still is, I'm sorry to say.

And do you really think

it was him?

It was a bad picture, but, yes.

Jonty only pretends to be dead

so I can't clear my name.

When the violent,

philandering swine does return,

I'll divorce him.

Here at Pranayama,

we practise gratitude,

and love and commune

with nature,

and we center our body

and minds through meditation

and, of course, yoga.

Yoga?

That's it.

Lengthen those spines.

Reach for celestial vitality.

This is ridiculous.

Only if you can't do it.

Very good, Mrs. Seitang.

And now let's bend from the hips

for Adho Mukha Svanasana,

Downward Facing Dog.

Legs and back straight.

That's it.

Feel the energy

flowing through you.

Excuse me.

Who are you?

Victor Goodbody "Times."

You're not welcome here,

Mr. Goodbody.

This is private property.

Excuse me.

Did you say Goodbody?

Victor Goodbody?

Oh, I've read all your articles.

I think you're just brilliant.

I had an article published

once in the "Women's Weekly."

I'd just love

to pick your brain sometime.

Sure, sweetie.

But I'm working right now.

How about you call my office?

Thank you.

I'd like to talk to Edwin.

Ask him if he's made

any recent trips to London.

Well, he's busy, and he hasn't

left this place for weeks.

Now I'd like you

off my premises.

This is a place of sanctuary,

and it's for couples only.

You seem inordinately threatened

by my presence, Mrs. Battenberg.

My name's Grey.

I rejected my husband's name

a long time ago,

just like I rejected his money.

How does that fit

with your little narrative

that I m*rder*d him?

Money's not

the only motive to k*ll.

We all know the playboy baron

enjoyed his women

as racy as his cars.

A scorned wife could easily

tamper with a man's brake line.

Told you to leave.

Marion,

let's not give in to anger.

I think it's best that you go.

Don't come back.

Ever.

Bye-bye, sweetie.

Is he leaving?

I can hardly walk after that.

I don't know about you, but

I'm feeling a little peckish.

Come on.

Erm, excuse me.

Is there any meat in this?

No. No, there isn't.

We don't believe

in murdering innocent animals

just so you can gorge

on their flesh.

Right. Understood.

Well, this will do nicely.

Love a good carrot.

Honestly, Connie, you didn't

have to bite his head off.

Well he wanted meat

on the menu.

Looks like compost.

I never thought I'd say this,

but I miss Mrs. Clam's cooking.

You're a brave man,

taking on Connie.

I'm Ben.

This is my wife, Lee.

Oh, pleased to meet you.

Simon.

Kate. How long have you

been here, Lee?

They asked how long

we've been out.

Oh, sorry. I'm deaf.

About a week.

But we're paid up for two.

Ben keeps threatening

to go home,

but we're gonna stick it

through, aren't we, love?

Yeah, I said so, didn't I?

I feel like I've seen you

somewhere before.

- Are you an actress?

- Oh, no.

But I did win Miss Croydon '61.

Did you? Huh!

Touch each other's faces

bodies.

Explore.

Be welcoming.

This is your other half.

Your anchor.

Your soul mate.

Say hello.

Hello.

Hello.

And now I want you to hold hands

and say what you love the most

about each other.

I loved my father very much.

Wait, hear me out.

He was a brilliant journalist.

Great mind, quick instincts.

Best I ever saw.

You remind me of him sometimes.

What I like Sorry

Love about you

is your ambition,

your independence.

And you're not half bad

to look at either.

- You look

- A fright without makeup.

And, yes, this night dress

is from Woolworths.

At least I don't look like

a ten-year-old in my pyjamas.

I was gonna say

you look beautiful.

And, yes, I haven't worn pyjamas

since I was ten.

Damned uncomfortable.

Well, get used to it,

cos there is the floor.

I'm not sharing the bed.

Fine.

I'll need these then.

Well, you don't need

all of them.

Of course I do.

Remember? I'm ten.

I may want to build a fort.

Look, can't I just

have one pillow?

Yes!

Yes! Yes!

Yes!

11:30?

Thanks for waking me.

Where the hell have you been?

I thought you'd want to sleep.

God knows I haven't.

I've just walked miles

to find a telephone box

to report back to Lowsley.

Hang on.

Is that Goodbody's car?

- What's he doing back?

- I have no idea.

I looked for him

but couldn't find him.

Mrs. Seitang thinks she saw him

walking off

with someone towards the woods.

She thinks?

Poor eyesight.

The woods, eh?

Maybe he's onto something.

Fancy a walk, Mrs. Wilson?

All right.

Certainly idyllic.

Yes, lovely.

Peaceful.

I can't stand it.

Oh, me neither.

I miss my noisy office.

Typewriters clacking,

telephones ringing.

What I wouldn't give

for a stiff drink

and a nice, juicy steak.

There's smoke over there.

Wonder what started it.

Must have been the sun.

Weren't these the ones

Goodbody was wearing?

There's shirt buttons here

and more.

There doesn't seem

to be anything else.

Well, what would you expect

to find?

Oh, wait,

there's another button.

Sam?

It's Goodbody's body.

I'd say the poor chap d*ed

no more than 2 or 3 hours ago.

Okay, so between 10:00

and 11:00.

He has defensive wounds

on his arms.

Clearly, he was bludgeoned.

But with what?

Exhibit "A."

Found it over there.

Yeah, but why was he shirtless?

Excellent question, Peggy.

It's unusual

to rip one's clothes off,

scattering buttons about.

Maybe the k*ller made him strip.

Well, look at that.

He's missing

his mandibular second premolar.

Hardly surprising

if he was bludgeoned.

True, but the presence

of a bloody handkerchief

suggests he was injured earlier.

Punched possibly.

Button, bag that up, please.

Felix, we'll question the guests

first, then the staff.

We don't want anyone leaving.

Well, you can't question them

yourself. You blow our cover.

Ruth, someone has been m*rder*d.

Well, I know that,

but we had a deal.

Well, I'm sorry,

but I don't have time

to cleanse my chakra.

Er, if I may interject,

Ruth's right.

Reveal yourselves now

and you lose your advantage.

Felix and I

can still report to you.

We'll just pretend

that you're Simon and Kate.

You can't be serious.

Am I supposed to go along

with this nonsense?

Kate and I went into the woods

for some nookie.

Yes, that's right.

And we saw something buried in

the woods, didn't we, darling?

So you just decided to dig?

Erm, I imagine

you're both in shock.

Oh, it was awful. I only spoke

to the man yesterday.

He was a brilliant journalist.

But, erm, Marion and Edwin

threw him out.

Well, he was here uninvited,

so, yes, we asked him to leave.

That's the last

either of us saw of him.

Okay, erm,

did anyone else see him?

I did

This morning by the pond.

But we only talked

for, like, a minute.

- What about?

- I was upset.

He asked if I was all right.

I said, "Yeah." And he left.

All right. And Mrs. Seitang

saw Mr. Goodbody

go into the woods yesterday.

I would like to question her.

I think she's in

the meditation room.

And I'll head to the lab.

Er, in case anyone here

was wondering.

Well do come with me,

everyone.

Ben, that's a nasty cut

you've got on your knuckles.

How did you do that?

I had an argument with Lee.

No, not like that.

I-I punched a tree.

I see.

It's just the dead reporter

Someone knocked his tooth out.

I wouldn't know about that.

And what do you care?

You're not a copper.

Oh, yeah.

This is so much easier.

Between 10:00 and 11:00?

Well, I was here.

Clearing up after breakfast.

- Alone?

- Yes, alone.

Marion can't afford

any more staff,

and I am happy to do it.

How long have you known Marion?

I was her housekeeper in London.

And before you ask, no, she did

not bump off her husband,

pig that he was.

Er, no.

No guests in here out of hours.

I was told there was

a first aid kit.

On the shelf.

Look, I don't know what happened

to that journalist,

but it's got nothing to do

with anyone here.

We don't k*ll things

at Pranayama.

Eureka.

There's only one bed.

Unfortunately for me.

Propriety intact.

Erm, so I noticed

that Goodbody's eyes

were rather, erm, bloodshot

and swollen.

One might assume that was to do

with a sudden, violent death,

but, erm,

something was niggling me.

So I employed the use

of fluorescein to make sure.

No?

It's a dye used to reveal

superficial irregularities

on the surface of the cornea.

Lo and behold,

there was evidence of sun damage

from staring directly at the

fiery orb with dilated pupils.

Why would he stare at the sun?

How to put it?

He was as high as a kite.

Hence his state of undress.

I did a blood test

and found traces

of lysergic acid diethylamide,

otherwise known as LSD.

Psychedelics produce,

er, hallucinations

and an apparent expansion

of consciousness, so

So someone k*lled Goodbody

while he was intoxicated?

Precisely.

Could the k*ller have dosed him

to render him helpless?

- Psychedelics?

- Well, it's not illegal.

It's not,

but Ben chickened out anyway.

I didn't chicken out.

I changed my mind.

See, this is what

I'm talking about.

I never said you were boring.

Just that you needed

to try new things.

New things. New people.

Same difference, right?

Oh, for the last time, Ben, I

am not interested in other men.

Okay, okay. I get it.

You two You two argued.

Yeah, but then we, er, made up,

didn't we?

- Yes.

- I can vouch for that.

Er, we have the room next door.

Can you say what time

they returned?

Just curious.

Well, I was asleep,

but they woke me up at 11:30.

So there's still half an hour

that's unaccounted for.

Yeah. All I can say is

Ben was with me.

I don't know what happened

to that horrible journalist,

but it had nothing to do

with us.

Excuse me.

Is there a payphone here?

I need to check on the children.

Yeah, there's one in reception.

There's a payphone in reception?

Quick catch up?

Goodbody was dosed with LSD,

almost certainly by the k*ller.

Question

Where did they get it?

Yes, we administer LSD

to some of the guests,

but Goodbody wasn't a guest.

Excuse me, Sister.

We suspect he ingested it

unknowingly

- or perhaps unwillingly.

- Where have you been?

- I'll tell you later.

- Well, it couldn't have been us.

I'd taken some myself,

and Marion was guiding us all

through it.

You took the dr*gs, too?

It opens my eyes fully.

You yourself might want

to try it.

Your prana looks

particularly blocked.

Never mind my prana.

Were there any eyes

fully on the LSD?

I suppose someone might have

taken the bottle

when you weren't looking.

Or we have some more

in the office.

It could have come from there.

You two really should

be more careful.

Or, erm,

perhaps they were careful.

Careful to construct

the perfect alibi.

Consider a roomful of witnesses

to vouch for their presence

at the exact time of the m*rder.

But how reliable

are those witnesses?

While your guests were under

the spell of psychedelics,

either of you could have

slipped out unnoticed.

So you're saying one of us

left the session,

dosed the journalist,

lured him to the woods,

- then k*lled and buried him?

- Well, it's possible.

I hear that you lost your temper

with Mr. Goodbody

only yesterday.

- You violently pushed him.

- Violently?

Marion doesn't have

a violent bone in her body,

and neither do I.

Here at Pranayama,

all life is sacred.

If you forgive me,

Mr. Battenberg,

that is evidently not the case.

- I knew it!

- Ben!

All this time

you've been sleeping around!

I haven't!

All right, now that is it.

- Come on.

- Get off.

Are you all right, Lee?

Did he hurt you?

Ben would never hurt me.

Well, then what happened?

He found them.

I'm not cheating on him

or anything.

I just I don't want

to get pregnant yet.

We really want to have kids,

but I don't think

he's ready to be a dad.

I'm sorry.

It's not his fault.

He

He's never really had anyone

till me.

It's been in and out of care.

Borstal.

That's in the past.

And what about your past, Lee?

I remember the article now,

when you won Miss Croydon.

It was written

by Victor Goodbody.

He implied that you only won

because you went to bed

with one of the judges.

He only wrote that cos

I wouldn't sleep with him.

I was gonna be

the face of Saunderson Soap,

but they dropped me after that.

I know what it looks like,

but I swear, I don't know

what happened to him.

Well, maybe Ben

taught him a lesson.

I-I never told him

about any of that.

If I had, he would have

You better hope you didn't

lay a finger on her.

Of course not. What do you

take me for? I love her.

Maybe so. But you can't deny

you've got a temper.

Did you punch that journalist?

Yeah, I did, cos he was a creep.

- But that was all that happened?

- Hmm.

Look, I saw them earlier

at the rock pool.

She was upset from our fight,

and he looked like he was

upsetting her even more.

So after she left, I belted him.

You said you punched a tree.

- You are such a liar!

- Oh, I'm a liar. Really?

After what I just found in that bathroom?

- Oh, that is not the same thing!

Yeah, it's not.

At least I was defending you.

I do not need you to defend me!

Have you got

any more cotton balls?

What are we doing here?

My neck is k*lling me.

Still?

All right, sit down.

No, sit.

That's what happens when

you sleep with three pillows.

Sleep?

I've forgotten what that is.

Oh, that's it.

Just a little on the left.

You've also forgotten

my question.

Oh, sorry. Ben said

that he punched Goodbody here,

and I'm just trying to figure

out what happened next.

Maybe he

Hang on.

What's there?

Bingo.

Jolly good find.

I'll, of course, have to confirm

it matches the missing tooth,

which I suspect it does.

But we already know

Ben hit Goodbody.

She's right.

It doesn't give us anything new.

Au contraire. Every nugget

of information is significant.

Nugget.

Oh, yes. Very good.

Ah, Sister Boniface.

Back again, I see.

Well, we're just about

to sit down for breakfast.

Would you like to join us?

We can set an extra place,

couldn't we, Connie?

The more, the merrier.

I must confess, I skipped

breakfast this morning.

I'd be delighted.

Good.

Gosh, how kind of them.

Au contraire.

I'm sure it's nicer

than it looks.

Oh, grace.

I haven't said grace.

Good idea. Let's let the eggs

get even colder.

Bless us, oh, Lord,

and these, they gifts

which we are about to receive

from thy bounty,

through Christ, our Lord.

- Amen.

- Amen.

Bon appétit.

Praying didn't help then?

No, it did not.

Right, I'll get a mould

of Mr. Goodbody's teeth done

forthwith.

And if I had any more fish

in my goggles,

I'll be sure to let you know.

Sorry. What?

Oh, good grief.

There are two of them now.

How marvellous.

Anyway, pip pip.

Sister?

Sister?

Her pupils are dilated.

Oh, no.

- Is it LSD?

- Must be.

- Okay, come and help me.

- Oh, an octopus.

So many tentacles.

What do you reckon, Shelly?

Should we take her

to the ship's doctor?

Oh, yes. Shelly.

Because of the, erm

Is Sister Boniface all right?

Does she look all right?

She's been given LSD.

Which one of you did it?

You're accusing us?

That's why you invited her

to breakfast, wasn't it?

So you could lace those awful

eggs or the orange juice.

- Climb the rigging.

- It was a buffet.

And I topped up

everybody's glasses.

If I'd put something in it,

you all would

have been affected.

I have a good mind

to ask for a refund.

She's going to be all right.

Right.

Let's say Marion did m*rder

her husband.

Could Connie have k*lled

Goodbody to protect her friend?

Possibly, but any one of them

could have k*lled him

to shut him up.

The question is,

what did he find?

Nothing, I suspect.

But as the game goes,

he was getting warmer.

Sister, how do you feel?

Well, I wouldn't recommend

the experience.

But it was certainly

mind-expanding.

Your mind doesn't need

any more expanding.

Thank you.

But in this case,

perhaps it did.

Where is it?

Oh, yes.

Behold pirate treasure.

- Is she still hallucinating.

- I think she is.

No, no.

That's what I saw.

My subconscious was telling me

Goodbody was searching

for his missing tooth

in the fish pond.

Did someone fear

that he'd find more than gold?

- What are you doing?

- I dropped my wedding ring.

Well, stop that. You'll

You'll disturb the fish.

It'll take more than that

to disturb them.

Like sharing a pond

with a skeleton.

What?

How long do you think

that's been there?

Five years, perhaps?

Are you saying

that's my brother?

Well, who else would it be?

Jonty!

He's been here all along!

There's a gash across the edge

of the rib bone there.

Do you see it?

It appears he was stabbed

with a large carving Kn*fe

or kitchen Kn*fe.

As you can see, the clothes

aren't fully decomposed.

So did you k*ll your husband,

Miss Grey?

I have nothing to say.

Are you protecting someone?

I said, I have nothing to say.

Okay.

I know some distressing things

have occurred here

in recent days,

and anyone wishing to leave

will be fully reimbursed,

but I do hope that you stay.

Activities at Pranayama

will continue as normal.

I only ask for some quiet time

to meditate

and to process the death

of my brother.

Thank you.

I reckon, if we pack now,

we could be in the pub

in just over an hour.

What are you talking about?

- We can't leave yet.

- Why the hell not?

Marion's clearly guilty.

You've got your scoop.

Have I? We still don't know

who drugged Sister or why.

Well, she seemed to enjoy it anyway.

All right, we'll stick around

for a little while longer,

for the sister's sake.

So you've decided to stay?

Me and Ben promised

to stick out.

Well, if things get

out of hand again,

you know where to find me.

For the sister's sake, my foot.

On second thoughts,

I am leaving.

Er

Ruth!

You just can't help yourself,

can you?

What are you talking about?

They're trying to save

their marriage,

and you flirt with her?

I was not flirting.

I happen to be concerned

for her welfare.

Oh, well, your concern

for Miss Croydon 1961

is deeply touching.

Okay, fine.

So what if I was flirting?

I'm supposed to be your wife!

Well, let me remind you,

you're not actually my wife,

and I see no reason for you

to be jealous.

Jealous!

Don't flatter yourself.

I wouldn't marry you if you were

the last man on earth.

Really?

Then the feeling's mutual.

Oh, Sam.

Marion's still not cooperating.

And I don't believe that Connie

and Edwin didn't know anything,

but I can't prove

that they were involved, so

In the Baron's death

or Goodbody's?

- Either.

- Hmm.

Speaking of Goodbody,

this just in.

An exact fit, also as expected.

Hello? What's that?

There's some kind of fibre

embedded in the plaster.

What is it?

With any luck, a smoking g*n.

Sir?

I mean, Simon and Kate.

Hello? Erm, what

What can we help you with?

- Sorry to interrupt.

- Interrupt?

No, er, we were just packing.

- Right you are.

- Anyway, focus.

I just discovered something

stuck between

Goodbody's teeth

A single strand

of medical gauze.

It had high traces of LSD on it.

Ruth, remember that bloody

handkerchief?

Goodbody used it to stem the

bleeding after he got punched?

Oh, I tested that, too. It had

no trace of LSD on it at all,

which means he was subsequently

given some gauze

to bite down on, soaked in LSD.

So if we trace the gauze,

we find the k*ller.

Exactly. Unfortunately,

it's a commonly found product,

such as one would find

in any first aid kit.

Wait.

The first aid kit.

First you accuse me

of drugging a nun.

- Now the journalist.

- Did you?

No. Anyone could have

used that kit.

Just like anyone could have

dosed the sister's breakfast.

Actually, I've been

pondering that one myself.

How could someone

"slip me a mickey," as it were,

before our very eyes?

Explanation our collective

eyes were closed in prayer

as you passed seamlessly

amongst us.

One or two drops from the bottle

hidden in your pocket,

and, hey, presto.

You can't prove I did that.

Then you won't mind

the sergeant searching you.

I suppose it would be foolish

not to dispose of the bottle.

But that apron's clearly

not a fresh one.

It most certainly is not.

Which means, if the bottle

was ever there,

there'd be a trace of LSD

in the lining.

A simple swab test in

my laboratory would settle it.

I will use it.

I swear.

I'll go, shall I?

That's it.

Give yourself over.

That's it. That's it.

Feel the prana into your lives.

That's it. Loosen up.

Well done. That's it.

Very good.

Dare to be free.

Get up!

What on earth are you doing?

Connie Dumas, I'm arresting you

for the m*rder

of Victor Goodbody.

You are not obliged

to say anything

unless you wish to do so,

but anything you say

may be put into writing

and given in evidence.

- You're a copper?

- Yeah, sorry about that.

D.I. Gillespie.

Felix?

Oh, Ruth Penny,

"Albion Bugle."

So you're not even married?

I drugged the sister because

she had the tooth from the pond.

I was afraid

she'd look under the rocks.

So you k*lled Goodbody

for the same reason.

I lured him into the woods

while the LSD took effect.

I told him that's where

the baron was buried.

- Did you k*ll the Baron, too?

- Yes.

Why?

Five years ago in London, he

He tried to force himself on me.

Marion had left the house,

but she came back unexpectedly

and saw him.

So she hit him

with a fire poker, and we ran.

We came here Great Slaughter.

Wait, he was still alive

when you left?

Yes, but, erm, a few days

later, he came looking for her.

Marion was out running errands,

and I wouldn't tell him

where she was.

He got really angry,

and he came at me.

So I stabbed him.

I was scared

that I'd hang for it.

Or worse,

that they'd blame Marion.

So I buried him,

and I never told anyone.

- Bodies are heavy, Miss Dumas.

- Mmm.

There would have been blood.

You expect us to believe that

you disposed of both of them

- by yourself?

- Yes.

I did.

Marion never knew a thing.

Neither did Edwin.

I took the car myself and

made it look like an accident.

And that's the truth.

You've got some nerve

coming back here.

You already printed your story.

What more do you want?

It's not the whole story,

though, is it?

I can believe Connie k*lled

and buried Goodbody,

but your husband?

You really didn't know?

I give you my word,

this will stay between us.

Why should I trust you?

Because, Marion, you went

through hell in your marriage.

And I wouldn't betray a woman

who's been through that.

Connie and I were both here

that day.

She stabbed him to save me.

Like you said, sometimes women

just have to stick together.

We watched him dying

on the kitchen floor.

We didn't help him.

I suppose that means

we both k*lled him.

I called Edwin and told him

what we'd done

and we were going to confess

to the police, but he said no.

He helped us

bury him under the rocks.

And then he took Jonty's car

and drove it into the Thames.

He covered up

his own brother's m*rder?

Edwin knew what kind of man

he was.

And he always loved me.

No, never like that.

You could say

we were kindred spirits.

All three of us are

after what we did.

And that's why Connie

confessed to it all.

It was her final gift to us.

I wish there was some way

to repay her.

But perhaps there are other ways

to give back.

Helping people love

each other again.

Like you and Simon.

It's Sam. No.

And we were just pretending.

If you say so.

To returning to civilisation.

I'll drink to that.

It wasn't all bad.

We made a good team,

don't you think?

I do.

In fact

perhaps it wouldn't be the worst

thing if we teamed up again.

Not at work.

I mean

you and I.

Sam, I've been offered a job

at "The Times."

They were impressed

by my article,

and they want me

to replace Goodbody.

Wow. That's

What did you say?

I told them I'd need

to think about it.

What do you think I should do?

When have you ever needed

someone to tell you what to do?

This is what

you've always dreamed of.

But it's just a job.

I mean, and I'm happy here

with you.

But how long will that last for?

- If you pass this up

- Well, you could come with me.

Can you really see me

at the Met?

Too much like hard work.

Besides, what would the sister

do without me?

Congratulations, Ruth.

Your father would be

proud of you.

As am I.

Great Slaughter won't be

the same without you.

But sail forth you must

to valiant adventures.

Promise you'll come back

and visit.

I promise.

Are you sure there's no room

for me in there?

You can drop me off

at Scotland Yard.

Darling Felix,

you're needed here.

Well

goodbye.

I'll miss you all.

Dazzle them, Ruth.

Just like you dazzle me.

I'm sorry, Sam.

While it's a positively spiffing

day for women's liberation,

it's a sad day indeed for love.

Love? Who said anything

about that?

It's probably for the best.

No ties.

- Ready to play the field.

- Mmm.

Plenty more fish in the sea.

Or mermaids.

Mermaids?

Oh, sorry.

Never mind.