How dark seems the night,
when we comprehend
the dangers therein.
More fear!
- And how small
and alone is man,
when at the mercy
of a ravenous beast!
Will this great and terrible
bear tear apart
Well, keep going!
- Tear apart my very soul
Honestly?
- Look, is this the best
we can do,
great and terrible bear-wise?
On our budget, yes.
- She's trying to make me
wear a dress.
- It's a to It's a toga.
- You'll look heroic, darling.
- Look, just take your position
behind the boulder.
What if I'm on the boulder?
This is my scene.
It won't be a soliloquy with him
- preening himself on a rock.
- "Preening"?
- Just stand behind the boulder
if you please.
Right, from the top!
- How dark seems the night
- Sorry.
Um, just need a minute
to set up the great
and terrible bear again.
Refreshments incoming!
Oh, don't bother, Derek.
Apparently it's time
for another break.
Tea drinking,
about the only thing
you lot do with any conviction.
- Just popping out
for more yellow.
Thought the back cloth needed
a jolly sun in the sky.
- "The Cursed Arrow" is a
tragedy, Miss Thimble.
- But you said "a child sky
over desolate heath."
- A wild sky, Dottie,
and the playwright said it.
- Well, I suppose that
makes sense.
- One wild sky coming up.
- Sir.
- I brought it straight over, sir.
- Aha!
Well, the regional arts fund are
offering a very generous grant
for "most promising
cultural endeavour."
- I don't quite follow, sir.
Is this a police
- What?
- Is it a police matter?
- No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
And the grant committee
The grant committee will be
coming to our first performance.
Ooh!
Yes, our beg-borrow-and-steal
years will soon be over!
Stay and give us your critique
on act one.
- No, sir, I can't.
I'm a bit busy at the moment.
Right.
Pressure's on, company
Deliver a cracking performance
and we'll take the sad out
of G-SADS once and for all!
- Tis true I neglect
my manly duties
and allow my womenfolk to pine,
but can any mortal resist
the lure of the ultimate prize?
More pathos, less panto.
And where are the lights?
This is a serious drama,
not burlesque!
Or a n*zi interrogation.
I'm coming up.
- We're coming through.
Come on, chaps!
- Convent cast-offs!
Should get a few togas
out of this lot.
- Perfect.
- Wish I could help more, but
- Oh, you're on.
- Oh.
- It's basically a semi-circle
with a flat bit at the bottom,
one size fits all.
You are a godsend, Sister.
Oh! Godsend.
- Ambrose Chance must be spinning
in his grave.
- Ah, yes,
the esteemed playwright.
Great Slaughter's
most famous son.
Some might say second
most famous,
after Monty the albino shire
horse, but let's not dwell.
I hope this will pass muster.
It's magnificent.
- I think a round of applause
is in order.
- Positions, company!
From Mateo's entrance.
Who this way comes?
Tis Mateo, a huntsman.
- See how he sharpens
his arrows,
unaware this innocent quiver
will seal his fate.
- Tis true I neglect
my manly duties
and allow my womenfolk to pine,
but can any mortal resist
the lure of the ultimate prize,
a creature so white it must have
been hewn from moonlight.
- Pick them up
and carry on, man!
sh**t me, darling.
Oh.
Ah, someone has returned.
- How are you, my brave soldier?
- No.
- You gave us quite a fright.
- Steady.
- No, no, no, it can't be.
Where are you going?
The artistic temperament, eh?
- Now where's he going?
- I think he needed some air.
- And I need a large whiskey,
but we've got a play to put on.
- Might be time to call it a day,
Chief Constable.
Excuse me. Thank you.
I'm going in there.
Thank you!
Excellent. Bow and arrow?
Perfect.
Stag runs into clearing?
Needs work.
Right, knife into flesh?
Ooh, marvellous!
And finally, a roaring fire?
Jolly well done, old chap!
Right then, Derek,
let's get this on, shall we?
We have to raise our game.
The smell should fade.
I really don't want to.
Pull your finger out, man,
- and remember what I taught you.
- But
- We've been in worse
predicaments than this before
and come out victorious.
Alright, I'll do it.
- Excellent.
Company, gather ye round.
Now, we come to the technically
most demanding scene.
Callista stabs Mateo
in a tragic moment
of bloody vengeance.
Positions!
- Please, I just wish you would
tell me what's going on.
- Just leave it. Trust me,
you don't want to know.
- Come on, please.
- Lights!
- I come to you in spirit form
to offer you a choice.
Admit it was your arrow that
slayed me, or feel my vengeance.
- I take my orders not from
she-demons,
but from mortal men.
Line!
Thank you, Tom.
What's done cannot be undone.
Then your fate is sealed!
Aah!
- Oh, come on, man, you look like
you're waiting for a bus.
Aaah, my life ebbs away.
Is this guilt pouring
from my veins?
Eee gods, lights!
Lewis, Lewis. Thank you.
Lewis, far be it from me
to put pressure on an actor,
but imagine the entire future
of G-SADS,
the the hopes and dreams
of a community,
rest on your performance.
Yes? Good.
I'll call an early lunch.
You can run your lines
with Myrna.
Oh, a-a-a-and listen
do it for her.
Do it for Ambrose.
Do it for the Loch Ness monster
for all I care,
just don't step on this stage
till you are ready
to give us some drama.
- I rue the day I convinced
Ambrose's widow
to let us have that play.
It should have stayed in
the drawer where she found it.
It was rather
a coup, though, Vera.
His only unperformed work.
- Maybe it was never performed
because it's so terrible.
- Wait! Let me explain!
It's not what you think!
- It seems "The Cursed Arrow"
is cursed in more ways than one.
We have a problem.
- Just add feuding thespians
to our list of woes
and we shall soldier on
in true G-SADS spirit.
No, an even bigger problem.
BAPs.
Ah.
- Crack yer head in a paper bag.
BAPs!
Barnsford Amateur Players.
- Oh, dear.
- Oh, dear with tights on.
They're doing "King Lear."
First performance on Saturday.
- Are they after
the grant money?
Is Roger Farnaby a Scotsman?
Is he a Scotsman?
- No idea. All I know
is he's Hector's nemesis.
So I expect complete focus,
which means leaving your egos
and petty squabbles
at the stage door, understood?
Now, the death scene
is our ace in the hole,
so please,
let us make it convincing.
- That won't be a problem.
- Good. Right.
Greek chorus, to your places.
We'll run from page 48.
- But soft, what messenger
from the netherworld approaches?
- She who was wronged
has returned for vengeance.
- Mateo, I come to you in spirit
form to offer you a choice.
Admit it was your arrow that
slayed me, or feel my vengeance.
- I take my orders not from
she-demons, but from mortal men.
What's done cannot be undone.
Then your fate is sealed!
Oh, eureka!
My very life ebbs away.
His very life ebbs away!
Is this guilt pouring
from his veins?
- Lewis!
- Cut! Bravo!
Well done, Lewis.
Best performance so far.
More corn syrup in the blood,
perhaps?
- Right you are.
- Right, let's go again and die
inside the spotlight
this time, please.
- Oh, my.
Someone call an ambulance!
Very little blood loss,
which would suggest the blade
penetrated straight to the heart
or possibly the aortic root,
resulting in more or less
instant death.
- Is that glue?
- Apparently so, yes.
Mass-produced prop dagger
that's been tampered with.
By Myrna?
- She's adamant she's
never seen it before.
- I'm not sure if this is
relevant, but, Sister, remember
Lewis did have
a strange turn yesterday.
- He collapsed on stage.
- Oh, yes.
After seeing the backdrop
for the first time.
How odd.
Button, search Lewis'
lodgings, will you?
I'll see if our hapless k*ller
can enlighten us.
On it, sir.
- I've been reading about this
new American method acting.
I was so immersed in the moment,
I had no idea
I had an actual deadly weapon
in my hand.
- Apparently Lewis collapsed
yesterday.
Do you know why?
- No.
He wouldn't talk about it.
Then this morning
he was in an odd mood.
Snippy, not himself at all.
- Is that why you two
argued earlier today?
- I left my bobby pins
in the dressing room,
went back to fetch them,
and walked in on him and Hildy.
Take your time.
- I thought he was going
to propose.
To me.
- That must have been
quite a shock.
But I'd never have done
anything to hurt him.
Lewis wasn't perfect,
but I loved him.
I only agreed to be in
this wretched play
so that we could be together.
- It was an expletive
deleted bloodbath
he'll never unsee
and no mistake.
- Right, okay.
Thank you, Tom.
Um, if you remember anything
else, please let me know.
Or anyone else that's on duty.
- Right, let's all get
this place shipshape again
so we can crack on.
- Sir, might a hiatus
be necessary,
you know,
pending investigations?
- Where's your Blitz
spirit, man?
What is "necessary"
is a bucket of sawdust
and a can-do attitude,
eh, Pargiter?
Well, uh
- Although of course, G-SADS
are now one man down.
Yes.
You'll do.
I will, of course,
take Lewis' role,
and you will be our new
Second Huntsman,
no audition required.
Congratulations, and well done.
No, no, sir. I can't.
Acting really
is not my cup of tea.
- We'll have a one-to-one
rehearsal
first thing in the morning.
And as your commanding officer,
that's an order.
Good!
Onwards, company!
One spare, as requested.
I suppose it's not a "spare"
anymore.
- What was your relationship like
with Lewis?
- I know you two were
- Strictly no-strings.
Myrna was saving herself
for marriage, bless her,
so Lewis had quite the itch.
It's a shame Myrna walked in
when she did.
I know what I saw.
Why wouldn't they believe me?
My advice is stop fidgeting
till I've finished
pinning this hem.
- Have you ever doubted
yourself,
your memories,
your sense of reality?
Don't feel guilty.
Let me take your mind off
whatever it is
that's bothering you.
- Lewis?
- Ah, we were, um
- Stage blood.
I was putting it up his toga.
- How could you?
- No, no.
Maybe it's best she knows.
Then you and I can
There is no you and I.
Myrna, wait!
Lewis!
He was acting really strange,
but he trotted after her
like a lapdog,
so I went for a smoke.
For a whole hour?
- I was also prepping makeup,
styling wigs, sewing costumes,
painting props,
cleaning the toilets.
Welcome to Amateur Dramatics.
- Considering your, um,
mutual scratching,
you don't seem too bothered
by Lewis' death.
No, I'm not bothered.
I'm devastated,
but it wouldn't do to let
Myrna see that, now would it?
- She's definitely more upset
than she's letting on.
Who else is in the frame?
- Everyone who didn't spend
the duration
of the lunch break in the foyer.
The thing is,
they rehearsed before lunch
and the dagger was un-doctored,
so the perpetrator must have
made the switch
between 12:00 and 1:00 p.m.
Captain Pargiter apparently
always spends
his lunch breaks at home.
Derek was painting
the boulder backstage.
And Hildy was mostly
in the dressing room,
and, unfortunately for her,
Myrna's alibi
is the m*rder victim's.
What about the dagger?
- Myrna always left it
in the same place,
the props table in the wings,
stage right.
- Um, may I?
- No, I
- Blunt sprung blade, retracts
into the handle on impact.
Harmless and pretty foolproof,
as you can see.
Our m*rder weapon,
on the other hand,
tempered steel blade,
glued into position
at the handle
using a fast-setting epoxy.
A simple adaptation that would
nevertheless
have involved thought,
planning, and manual dexterity.
And time.
- Well, depending on
our perpetrator's skill,
I'd estimate 5 to 10 minutes
to replace the blade
and wait for the glue to set.
Obviously not a permanent bond,
but strong enough
for a fatal, single use.
Hmm. Any fingerprints?
Oh, yes, mostly bloody,
and nearly all, apart
from the victim's, Myrna's.
- Hmm, our innocent
proxy m*rder*r.
- Lewis' diary
from when he was a boy.
- Good work, Button.
- Bravo!
This was on his bed.
He must have looked at it,
traumatised, last night.
- "Ma doesn't believe me,
but I know what I saw."
Hmm.
"There were two of them,
bent over, digging.
I could see a lump.
They dragged it into the hole.
I think it was a dead body."
June 6, 1935.
- Are there any missing persons
unaccounted from that time?
- Lowsley was a beat copper
back in 1935.
Maybe he's got some intel.
And I know exactly
where to find him.
- Kenny Buck,
18 when he went missing,
used to grub about
Great Slaughter
with his ne'er-do-well pals,
pilfering and pick-pocketing.
Can't remember much else
except that he was a right
royal headache.
- Perhaps a trawl of
the police files
might yield some
useful information?
- Rather you than me.
- Will you excuse me, gents?
- We're throwing caution
to the wind.
We're doing no such thing.
It's just been
a very taxing day.
- At the risk of taxing
you further,
um, might I ask you about
your magnificent rendering
of the Plain of Aegis?
Oh, that.
I just read
what it said in the play
and sploshed some paint around.
- It reminds me somewhat
of a real place.
Ingleby Heath, in fact.
- Ah, yes.
Now you come to mention it.
- Might it be possible to borrow
a copy of the play
- until tomorrow?
- Be my guest.
I'm the only cast member
who's off-book,
as we say in the theatre.
- I shall take utmost care
as I burn the midnight oil.
- Uh, tonight's dinner is
kidney pie.
I'm afraid my purse
wouldn't stretch to the steak.
- Don't be late.
- Terribly sorry, Mrs. Clam,
but I shall be spending
the evening
in the police records office.
- Extra helping for you then,
Inspector Gillespie.
Mm.
Callista
Callista raises the, um
the what?
Callista raises
Oh, gosh, is that the time?
I really should, um,
just for a moment
Hello, and welcome,
Ambrose Chance,
to this special dead playwrights
episode
of "Questions for Thespians."
First question,
what's the real reason
"The Cursed Arrow" has been
hidden in a drawer until now?
Oh, a strategist,
ladies and gentlemen.
Let's try another.
If the Plain of Aegis on the
backdrop is an actual place,
are the two huntsmen
based on real
Bonus point for this
next question,
did you, Ambrose Chance,
know local teenager Kenny Buck?
Wait! Buck stag.
Um, does the white stag
in the play represent
- Sister?
- Quickest on the buzzer
for a bonus point!
- I'm sorry?
- Oh.
Oh, my.
I think I've just had
my own epiphany.
Anyway, yes, how did you get on?
- No epiphanies,
but I did discover
that Kenny got himself mixed up
with a London g*ng
called "The Magpies."
Um, he returned back to
Great Slaughter
to look after his sick
mother a few months
before he disappeared.
- Well, I'll wager
that what 8-year-old
Lewis described in his diary
was Kenny's final resting place.
Lewis was simply not believed
and forgot about it until he saw
Miss Thimble's backdrop.
- And the next day,
he ended up dead.
So these murders must be linked.
Let's share the news with Sam.
Right, you hop in the sidecar,
we'll be there in a jiff.
- I can't, I have rehearsals
with CC Lowsley
and I don't know my lines.
- Well, is just as well
you have the dauntless Tom
Thomas as line prompt then.
Yeah, that's what I fear.
- So you think this play will
lead us to Kenny Buck's body?
- Well, the play is about
two huntsmen
who become obsessed
with a white stag.
Okay, stag, buck. Go on.
- Well, they fire a brace of
arrows at it,
but as the animal gasps
its last breath,
it transforms
into an innocent maiden.
Now you've lost me.
- The stag turned maiden could be
a metaphor
for a blameless innocent,
possibly a play on words,
chaste as in decorous,
and chased as in hunted.
Either way, the
huntsmen dispute over
whose was the deadly arrow.
They quickly bury her and speak
no more of their crime.
Given that the play was written
in cathartic style,
- it would appear to be
- A confession?
Indeed.
- So we've got a dead suspect
in Ambrose Chance,
but who's our other huntsman?
- Well, that, Inspector,
is the ten-bonus-point question.
Ah, behold!
The mythical Plain of Aegis,
if I'm not mistaken.
Right, yes, see the burial
mounds, identical positions.
The standing stones and large
boulder is still here.
There are the three
pine trees, look.
So Little Lewis must have
been standing here when he
Wait
That's Captain Pargiter's house.
More to the point,
that's his land.
- I was about to leave
for the theatre.
Whitcomb, would you get us
some more coffee?
Thank you but no
I don't want to take up
any precious rehearsal time.
- Yes, first performance
tomorrow,
what with the grant committee
and a full house,
the pressure is on somewhat.
Of course we're still reeling
from the loss
of our leading man.
- I heard there was some friction
between you two?
- Only the usual jovial
thespian rivalry.
Tragic business, really.
- And, um, why did you go home
for lunch yesterday?
Always do, anything to avoid
Mrs. Clam's
mystery-meat sandwiches.
- Captain, might we have
your permission
to excavate an area
on Ingleby Heath?
Sounds ominous.
- Yes, we're re-opening the case
into the disappearance
of Kenny Buck.
Buck
Buck, yes, I remember.
Long time ago, though?
We have new information.
I see.
I met Kenny once or twice
during my time
as patron of the church's
Wayward Youth Project.
Seemed nice enough
fell in with the wrong crowd,
obviously,
but then so did a lot of boys
who lost their fathers
during the w*r.
And you think he's
- We think it's a strong
possibility, yes.
Poor lad.
One can't help but wish
you don't find him out there.
- Do you remember anything
else about the case, Captain?
- Nothing specific,
lot of trouble
on the heath
during those problem years.
Reported a few incidents
myself, in fact.
Thank you.
Oh, you didn't know
Ambrose Chance, did you?
- Not well, our paths crossed
at functions and whatnot.
Why do you ask?
Just ticking boxes.
Is there any point
digging deeper?
- The play's quite specific
about a shallow grave;
the huntsmen buried the stag
where it fell,
by the tree on the right.
- Let's take a break, boys.
Regroup in ten.
Is there a reason
you're digging
around outside of the cordon?
- Silly mistake, stage left
and stage right are opposite.
A b*llet. Hidden under three
decades of bark.
- Lads, we've been digging
under the wrong tree.
- Good dress rehearsal,
everyone but more
tears in the third act.
Tomorrow is the big day.
Curtain up.
And I want each and every one
of you here rested
and word perfect. Hildy?
I've got a wobbly rampart,
stage right.
Be right there.
He's in high dudgeon.
Or is it low.
One of the dudgeons anyway.
He's just discovered BAPS
have a dramaturg.
- Oh.
- Do you need any help, Myrna?
- I can do it, thank you.
- Suit yourself.
This must not be easy for you?
- Sometimes I don't know
how to put one foot
in front of the other.
But I'd rather keep busy.
- The truth will out, Myrna,
be sure of that.
- Can't be easy for you either,
stepping in at the last minute?
Any more costumes?
What kind of bird is that?
- I wish I knew, that'll teach me
for getting drunk in Blackpool
on my 18th birthday.
- You can take this.
- Thank you.
- Seems like we're running out
of daylight and morale.
- And orange squash.
No one likes the lemon.
- Are you sure we haven't missed
something in the text?
No other coded meanings
or hidden information?
Well, it's hard to know.
Classics, unlike viticulture,
not being an exact science.
- Sir?
- Finally.
Trowel please, Peggy?
- Sister.
- Thank you.
One tibia.
What's this?
One pair of glasses.
And one mystery solved.
- You can't ascertain cause
of death from this, can you?
- Well, there certainly isn't
an arrow
conveniently protruding
from his chest cavity but
Oh! Aha!
A r*fle b*llet?
9 mm would be my guess,
though hard to say exactly
given the degree of corrosion,
but I'll try to clean it up
and get some more detail.
Morning Team, how are ugh,
you never get used to some of
these things on this job.
Quite so.
Derek has a tattoo of a bird.
A Magpie.
- Kenny's g*ng?
- Are you sure?
- Well, the records show
that Kenny here,
and Derek got a warning
for getting into a fight
at a cinema a week
before Kenny disappeared.
Top marks, Felix!
- I guess we'd better talk
to our erstwhile Magpie.
- Alright, so I knocked about
with that lot and yes,
I'll admit, there were bad blood
between me and Kenny.
He had a gift of getting
on the wrong side of people.
People like who?
Ambrose Chance?
- Ambrose wouldn't have wasted
his time
- on a scrote like Kenny.
- But you would?
- No, I gave up my g*ng
proclivities decades ago,
thanks to the church
and the Wayward Youth Project.
- So you must have known
Captain Pargiter, back then?
Yes, Sir.
I was also in his regiment
Glorious Glosters.
Me and Kenny,
sorry, Kenny and I,
used to do odd jobs
around the estate.
And Ambrose and the Captain
even let us
sh**t the odd
round of clay pigeons.
- Sorry, Ambrose Chance
and Captain Pargiter
- knew each other?
- Yes. They were friends.
Ambrose was an arse
but he was great fun.
- Curtains up in an hour
and a half.
Chief says you're to bring
his cast and crew
back to the theatre PDQ.
- Fair enough,
I need to interrogate
one of his leading men anyway.
Break a leg with that, Sir.
Had I known, had I known.
That at nightfall
a great and terrible
- Red Lorry, yellow lorry,
red lorry, yellow lorry
- La, la, la, la, la, la, la.
La, la, la, la, la, la, la.
La, la, la, la, la, la, la.
La, la, la, la, la, la, la.
- Red Lorry, yellow lorry,
red lorry,
- yellow lorry
- Finally!
- What time d'you call this?
- I'm sorry, Sir.
- Gillespie. Haven't you made
enough disruption for one day?
This can't wait, I'm afraid.
- Gosh, it's like
Laurel and Hardy round here!
- We found Kenny's body
on his land,
he lied about
knowing Ambrose Chance.
He was obviously trying
to silence Lewis.
- Should I get Peggy
to shut the house
- and send everybody home?
- You'll do no such thing!
Look, that's the grant
committee and you're
not even in costume!
Skidaddle!
Do none of you people respect
the sanctity of the theatre?
This couldn't wait.
I'm all ears, Sister.
- There's evidence
of an entry wound
at the edge of Kenny's scapula.
Bone fragments
from the sixth rib,
- where the b*llet exited.
- Meaning?
- Meaning, with a few trajectory
calculations
I can say without doubt
that Kenny was shot in the back.
As if he was running away.
After all, Kenny was a Magpie.
I'd say that he was
caught stealing
- Pargiter's no m*rder*r.
- You can't deny he is a hunter.
- Yes,
but where's your evidence?
You're holding it, Sir.
Five minutes till curtain up.
- Bring me a matching g*n
or a confession,
then you can take him.
- Fancy a trip
to the Captain's g*n cabinet?
Yes, please.
Right, places, everyone!
Make sure you nail
that first line, Dottie.
- Will do.
- Curtain, Derek.
- What's the line again?
- Save us, Vera.
Welcome to this,
a warning rendered in words,
a carnival of souls.
Is this a tale of treachery,
or of a man wronged?
Only the Gods know what smoke
and mirrors we mortals weave.
Oh, oh
What treasures and mysteries
abound within this sphere,
to be but discovered
and conquered
by a vigourous youth such as I!
- Hmm, the ethics of lock
picking are somewhat complex.
- Can't you just say
a few hail Marys?
- Unfortunately, the Lord
doesn't operate on a buy
now pay later basis.
Bingo!
Yes!
Quite an arsenal.
- Couple of shot g*ns,
but no r*fle.
- Wait. Perhaps our m*rder weapon
has been staring us
in the face this entire time.
Wrong calibre.
- Actually, it's what's missing
that caught my eye.
See the photograph,
and the empty scabbard?
The bayonet's been removed.
- Yes.
And used to k*ll Lewis Garner.
- We should be able to get
back for the interval.
- You'd better be bringing me
a choc-ice, Gillespie,
and not another
half-baked supposition?
- Pargiter is definitely
our man.
- Can he please be our man,
just till the end of the show?
He's a double m*rder*r, Sir.
- Surely protocol would dictate
- Let me worry about protocol.
You worry about
your lacklustre performance,
Livingstone.
Surround the theatre,
you can take him
as soon as the curtain falls.
Depart.
- Ladies and gentlemen,
please take your seats,
the performance
is about to continue.
- Let's hope this is fast
and painless.
- What great adventures await us,
on this
Broccoli?
Bright day.
Oh. Bright day!
How lucky we are to have such
Youth and purpose.
- Yawning purpose.
- Youth and purpose!
- Youth and purpose!
As we stride forth
You've been called.
- You sure you're alright
to do this?
The show must go on.
You're a trooper.
Myrna, you were always
the one
- I know.
I'm doing this for him.
He'd be proud.
But don't do it for him.
Do it for yourself.
Okay. Go on.
How dark seems the night,
when we comprehend
the danger therein.
And how small and alone is man,
when at the mercy
of a ravenous beast!
Had I known that at nightfall
a great and terrible bear
would tear apart my very soul.
- Hold your nerve,
noble shepherd.
- Oh. Um
- Stop that Shepherd!
- It shall be the, um, the
policeman with the handcuffs!
- Stop!
- Hark? Is that thunder I hear?
- You have no proof!
- We have all the proof we need.
- Grab him Felix!
- Ah, you are mistaken Mateo.
Tis but the terrible bear
after all.
Who knew his presence
would be such sweet relief?
Get away from me Gillespie!
- Behold,
what nightmarish visions
may befall
the insubordinate mind.
- Sorry.
- Friends!
Let us start anew!
From page 41.
- Rather let us, let us exit,
being pursued by a bear.
Or rather pursuing,
pursuing the bear.
- Methinks the second huntsman
is, in all regards,
is in the wrong play.
Stop him!
- The Shepherd returneth
to his flock
great be that the fates
allow him to tend them
before the conclusion
of our tale.
- Curtains for you, Shepherd.
I mean, Captain.
- I supposed you're both
very pleased with yourselves?
An arresting performance, Sir.
You shot a teenager in the back.
A boy, who you were supposed
to be helping.
I did help Kenny,
and he repaid me
by breaking into my home.
- He was unarmed
and running away.
- A man has a right to protect
his own property.
We caught the little
deviant redhanded.
Oi!
So then Ambrose,
fancy another trophy?
- So you hunted him down
like an animal?
- You can't prove it was
my b*llet that k*lled him.
- We won't need to in order
to send you down
for a very long time.
- We'll see what my solicitors
have to say about that.
- It must have been a relief
when Ambrose died,
taking your secret with him.
If only there hadn't been
a witness.
- You're the second huntsman.
- What are you on about, man?
I'm the shepherd. Learn
the script for heavens sake.
- This play, it's Ambrose's
confession, isn't it?
Oh, you didn't realise?
The whole time we've been
rehearsing,
you didn't have a clue.
Well, I remembered everything,
the moment I saw that backdrop.
You're a m*rder*r.
I'm a decorated veteran.
- Then let's see
what the police think.
- Who's going to believe
the testimony of a child,
30 years after the event?
I'd be very careful
if I were you.
So you silenced him, right?
You doctored the dagger
and you used poor Myrna
to do your dirty work.
Hopefully Myrna will be
able to start again.
Unlike those two men whose
lives you ended on a whim.
- No need to get sentimental,
Inspector Gillespie.
Preston Hadley Pargiter,
I'm arresting you for
the murders of Kenny Buck
and Lewis Garner.
You are not obliged
to say anything
unless you wish to do so
but anything you do say
may be put into writing
and given in evidence.
- Chins up, G-SADS,
only three more shows to go.
But we've lost half our cast.
- I could perform it as a one man
play experimental, you know?
Give BAPS a run for it's money.
- We're already
a laughing stock.
No offence.
Oh, Morning all.
The good news is
I brought some leftover madeira
cake from the polio fundraiser.
And the bad news.
- Ah, well, I trust Roger Farnaby
will be happy
having something
more to gloat about.
- "The Cursed Arrow fell well
short of its target
turgid and incomprehensible"?
Who wrote this drivel?
"However
"It was agreed that the play
had surreal
echoes of early Beckett."
"While the cast were
somewhat unpolished
and with, um,
blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,
it was thought that Mr.
Livingstone was a rare talent
with a remarkable gift
for the avant-garde."
"with all things considered,
we are very pleased
to confirm G-SADS
the worthy recipient
of the inaugural grant
for Most Promising
Cultural Endeavour."
No! Never!
Onwards!
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02x09 - Stage Fright
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Sister Boniface is a Catholic nun at St. Vincent's Convent in the fictional town of Great Slaughter in the Cotswolds who has a PhD in forensic science, allowing her to serve as a scientific adviser to the local police on investigations.
Sister Boniface is a Catholic nun at St. Vincent's Convent in the fictional town of Great Slaughter in the Cotswolds who has a PhD in forensic science, allowing her to serve as a scientific adviser to the local police on investigations.