01x02 - Episode 2

[bunniefuu]

(Pinkerton)

Perhaps you might happen to know

what time Scotland Yard closes?

You see, I have to report m*rder.

(crash)

She was talking of m*rder.

Murders in her village.

She said he'd k*ll again,

and now she's dead.

(Bridget) I live in Wychwood,

so there's precious little

to challenge my powers of

observation until you arrived.

Think you'll find you're

in the wrong place, sir.

"His Lordship" and the other

guests will be inside the house.

(Fitzwilliam) Lord Whitfield

This is a new town

carrying my name.

(Fitzwilliam) Bridget, why are you

marrying that man?

You keep these in stock?

Just a codeine linctus.

Why? Want some?

(groaning)

(Mrs Humbleby) (crying) No!

(dramatic music plays)

(tense music plays)

My deepest condolences, Miss Rose.

Mrs Humbleby.

I wondered if we might speak?

Why don't you accompany us

We're meeting Dr Thomas at

the surgery to discuss the autopsy.

(Fitzwilliam) You see,

since coming to Wychwood,

I've been struck by the number of

accidents.

And that Dr Thomas

attended every victim.

Victim?

I gather you're very fond

of Dr Thomas, Rose.

And he

he has feelings for you too.

But your father never

would've allowed the marriage.

And if he knew of the doctor's

"scientific interests"

Where did you find this?

He keeps them here. Not on display.

And who planted the idea of m*rder

in your mind, Mr Fitzwilliam?

Miss Pinkerton.

You met Lavinia?

Before she died?

Before she was m*rder*d.

Mrs Humbleby, have you considered

your husband's medication

may have been tampered with?

(Rose) Tampered with by whom?

Why should we believe

a single word you say?

Rose? Fitzwilliam?

What on earth is going on here?

Simply discussing the likelihood

of you having poisoned my father.

Poisoned?

With what? Penicillin?

(Mrs Humbleby) It couldn't have been

the medication, Mr Fitzwilliam

My husband's distrust

of Dr Thomas meant

he never took the penicillin.

That's not all. The things he said!

None of them true.

Are they?

(breathing heavily)

Rose, stop!

(Rose)

Are they here then?! Where?!

Where are they

Rose

Rose, I don't think of you like

This is your "research," is it?

Worming your way

into respectable women's homes

and perverting their minds?

(suspenseful music playing)

Just because it wasn't the penicillin

doesn't mean it wasn't m*rder.

If Lavinia felt something was amiss,

you must keep looking.

(constable)

Nothin nothing suspicious.

But obvious obviously we're taking

the vicar's sad death very seriously.

Nothing suspicious?

One minute he was playing tennis,

the next

he was frothing at the mouth.

Poisoned?

Look, I'm here to assure you

everything is

being properly dealt with.

(Rivers)

Well, what about the rest?

- The rest of what?

- Of us!

Harry Carter? Tommy Pierce?

Or were they "properly dealt with"?

Ruled as accidents

by the coroner.

The law's the law,

Rivers, old chap.

(Mrs Carter)

And why no autopsy for our Amy?

A waste of public funds. The cause

of death was plain. Unless you'd

What's plain is that when

one of us dies, it's an accident.

But when it's one of you,

there's a proper investigation.

That's how you do the law

around here, Doctor. Old chap.

I resent your insinuation, Rivers.

- I'll be speaking to Lord Whitfield.

- I'm not insinuating, okay?

I'm stating facts.

And you can tell

Lord Whitfield what you like.

Tell him to open his moneybags

and fix up Ashe Bottom for starters.

Because his tenants

are living in a slum.

Hear, hear!

I spilt blood for this country,

and that makes me any man's equal.

This place?

Rotten to the core.

(crowd murmuring)

I owe you an apology, Miss Conway.

I expressed opinions that,

however strongly

I might feel them

Quite.

Perhaps if we confine

our strong feelings

to exposing the m*rder*r

Of course.

Gordon and I are

We're throwing a party

this afternoon.

Throwing a party?

An engagement party.

So you'd better hurry.

It wasn't the medication.

But who else

would k*ll Reverend Humbleby?

Well, let's start at the beginning.

Miss Pinkerton said

the m*rder*r was

"A respectable man

with a point to make."

Yes, but who respects the doctor?

- (chuckles)

- Not the Humblebys.

No one in Ashe Bottom.

Dr Thomas could be

as disreputable as Bluebeard.

He'd still be

a respectable man in Wychwood.

It's becoming quite clear to me

how power works here

And I don't have it.

Six dead.

Six.

Are you feeling all right?

You don't have to say anything.

But Dr Freud is ready for you now.

Should you care to explain.

(Fitzwilliam) Ever since

I came to England,

I keep having these dreams.

That I'm lost in this forest.

And I'm losing something.

So this Ikenga

is part of you?

As personal as my right hand.

It was given to me

when I came of age.

It's your potential to succeed,

the power to direct your own fate.

But it's part of something

greater than you alone.

Fail to honour it, and you're lost.

To yourself, to your people.

Lost to home.

Should I even be here?

Working for Whitehall, leaving others

to work for independence back home.

It seems you are

a little lost in the forest,

Luke Obiako Fitzwilliam.

Welcome to my woods.

I've been here a while.

Maybe not "happy ever after,"

but content, I thought.

And now I

Now I don't know anymore.

(woman screams)

(woman) Help!

Help!

(women gasping and sobbing)

You see what happens

when you speak up?

Don't try and tell me that that fell

off a tree and bashed out his brains?

What, another accident?

Good chap.

All right.

(sighs)

All dealt with.

Told him keep it under his hat.

No fuss.

I don't think you can do that, Sir.

I think you'll find he'll do

as he's told.

Especially if it's me

that's doing the telling.

My path's always

been smoothed by Providence.

Right.

Lots to do before the party.

You're coming, Fitz?

Half of London will be there,

won't they, Bridget? The right half.

(chuckles)

(Fitzwilliam)

Miss Pinkerton was right.

That idiot constable ruled out m*rder

before he'd even seen Rivers' body.

Humbleby.

Now Rivers?

Bally fine chaps, both of 'em.

Speaking their minds.

Speaking up for others.

And you say Pinky

set you on the trail?

You've been investigating all along?

(Fitzwilliam) It became clear to me

that these deaths were murders.

(Horton) Did Pinky

have a theory about Lydia?

(Fitzwilliam)

She wasn't entirely sure.

(Horton)

But you are, I see.

Still

you you have no proof.

The car that hit and k*lled

Miss Pinkerton got away so fast

I never even caught a glimpse.

Seems half the village

was out of town on Derby Day.

If the car belongs

to someone in Wychwood

If I knew the registration

Leave it with me.

Still know a few old-timers

in Scotland Yard who

owe me a favour.

These dreadful rumours.

A party. Ill-advised, perhaps.

So unlike Lord Whitfield.

His religion,

his sense of what's right.

It's what first struck me about him

all those years ago.

Oh!

(chuckles)

(distorted laughter echoes)

(ominous music playing)

(breathes heavily)

Miss Wayneflete, you say

you knew Lord Whitfield as a boy?

As a young man, yes, before the w*r.

Before the big house

and the Rolls-Royce.

All of it.

I should I should take this in.

(gentle piano music playing)

(indistinct conversations)

(applause)

(sombre music plays)

(Whitfield) More bubbles over here!

(snaps fingers) Some Dom Peri.

(laughs)

(suspenseful music plays)

(door opens)

(door closes)

Gordon likes to collect nice things.

Not really his nice things,

though, are they?

Still, he seems to care more for them

than he did his own chauffeur.

Look, I've been thinking

about what Mrs Pierce said.

"See what comes from speaking out?"

Rivers, Reverend Humbleby at dinner,

Tommy,

all of them

spoke out against respectable men.

Are you suggesting that Gordon

Huh.

Why?

Do you think he

What I think is that Gordon

is as incapable of physically hurting

another human being as I am.

And that calling him a m*rder*r

under his own roof is

is unforgivable.

(door opens)

(gentle piano music plays)

Erm

I didn't offer sympathies.

For Rivers.

He seemed a good man.

He was.

You said he was m*rder*d

for speaking out?

Think I want to end up

the same way?

Talk costs lives.

Powerful men decide.

Women like us survive.

Back home, if some chief, judge,

or official abuses power,

women arrived in gangs.

And they had ways to set him right.

There's a few men in Wychwood who

could do with that kind of lesson.

(Whitfield laughs)

Oh.

(mid-tempo jazz music playing)

Rose?

See?

I'm wearing the scarf you gave me.

Because I

Rose, I insist you let me explain.

Mr Fitzwilliam!

We saved you a seat. Do sit.

Do you mind, Doctor?

You're rather spoiling the view.

I heard about Rivers.

Coming so soon after Father?

It's terrifying.

You know Rivers didn't see eye-to-eye

with the doctor either.

(Fitzwilliam)

Rose, about what happened

I may have misjudged you earlier,

Mr Fitzwilliam.

Your suspicions.

Father always said

the doctor wasn't fit to serve

on the New Town board.

Said he was capable of doing

anything to get what he wants.

Perhaps with the doctor

occupied here,

now is the chance

to find out what.

(music intensifies,

crowd cheers)

Dr Thomas,

he never truly deserved you.

(Dean Martin's "Sway" plays)

# When marimba rhythms

start to play.

# Dance with me, make me sway.

# Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore.

# Hold me close, sway me more.

# Like a flower

bending in the breeze.

# Bend with me, sway with ease.

# For when we dance

you have a way with me.

# Stay with me, sway with me. #

(song stops)

(suspenseful music plays)

(door closes)

(door opens)

(footsteps approaching)

I have a confession to make.

(door creaks)

(Fitzwilliam) It's okay.

I don't think anyone's there.

I need to confess.

I can't marry Gordon.

(door closes)

Was that him?

What did you find?

It's the Whitfield New Town account.

But someone's forged

Gordon's signature.

These are all made payable

to Dr Thomas.

It's a small fortune.

That's embezzlement.

If Mrs Horton and Reverend Humbleby

had caught him

We should go back

and tell him what we know.

And face it

all.

(bird screeches)

(dramatic music playing)

(Bridget) So, the doctor

had been stealing money

from the New Town account.

Perhaps the victims found out?

Mrs Horton and the vicar might have.

Even Amy.

But the others

It just doesn't seem

(Fitzwilliam) Bridget.

Bridget, come here.

What's that?

Where was it?

In Rivers' blood.

Heel of a shoe.

(Pinkerton) Not many people do,

you know?

Listen.

Right foot, I think.

The m*rder*r has a point to make.

- A sensible, respectable

- Respectable person.

Person.

A respectable person.

Miss Pinkerton never said a man.

A woman?

A woman's shoe.

You don't mean

The m*rder*r?

No, women don't k*ll like that,

over and over and over.

It's right here, Bridget.

Right where Rivers died.

Are you saying it's not connected?

Women lose gloves, heels, earrings,

every time we leave the house.

It's hardly proof of the ability

to exterminate half a dozen souls.

Bridget, a respectable woman

who drives.

Who can drive, Bridget?

Me, obviously.

Yes. Miss Wayneflete?

No.

No, and she can't afford a car.

Mrs Humbleby.

Rose.

What possible motive

could any of them have?

(indistinct conversations)

This must be a trial for you both.

So much to do after a bereavement.

Mother, I'm tired. Perhaps

Where did you meet your husband,

Mrs Humbleby?

In India.

He was stationed there.

Before independence, of course.

An army chaplain.

His commanding officers

were dead set against our marriage.

But we were in love.

And so to England.

To Wychwood.

Major Horton helped you both settle,

I believe.

And Mrs Horton must have been

a good friend of your husband's too.

The board must have thrown them

together a great deal.

Shared interests.

Do you drive, Mrs Humbleby?

Did you go with your husband

to the derby, or

Come, Rose.

I'm cold suddenly.

My God. You didn't

just accuse them, did you?

- Bridget! I've been looking for you.

- Gordon, I think that we should

Shh!

Here's my Bridget! (chuckles)

Bridget.

It's time for your surprise.

(Bridget) Well

Ah!

- Ooh!

- Oh!

(excited chatter)

(Whitfield) Platinum set.

(man) Very nice.

Very nice.

Flawless.

Just like you, Bridget.

God's rewards.

(laughs)

(groans)

(crowd gasps)

(crowd murmuring)

Call an ambulance! Call the police.

But not that idiot Reed.

A detective. Now!

(suspenseful music playing)

It was a Rolls-Royce

that k*lled Pinky.

That's all they told me.

Did you see the sores on his neck?

Under the scarf?

Maybe some kind of poison?

Bridget

Do you think Lord Whitfield

Do you think he might be trying

to frame you?

I told you Gordon would never

do anything to hurt me.

Or anyone.

(bird screeches)

(Pinkerton)

The m*rder*r has a point to make

and will keep k*lling

until it's made.

(Whitfield)

It's a new town! Carrying my name.

I think you'll find he'll do as

he's told.

Especially if it's me

that's doing the telling.

That drunk violently accosted me

on my own estate. Didn't he, Bridget?

That's the man.

Can I help you?

DS Bull,

officer in charge of these

investigations.

- I've just come from the manor.

- Pleased to make your acquaintance.

It's rather busy up there just now.

What with two deaths in one day

and all.

I'm aware, sir. I was there.

And at the scene

of the vicar's sad demise.

And oh yes,

Amy Gibbs'.

What about Tommy Pierce?

And Harry Carter?

I wasn't even in England.

Accidents. Coroner's ruled on them.

So you came here

to research

- (Horton) Augustus!

- (dog barks)

Nelly! At ease.

What news of my wife, Detective?

My concern is this gentleman.

- I'm confining him to his room

- House arrest? Under what statute?

As a subject of the Queen,

he's as free to come and go as I.

Fitz, with me!

Sick to the back teeth

of bully boys in uniform

bossing people around or worse.

That's why Lydia and I

got out of the whole dirty game.

Empire.

What's your next move, Fitz?

(Fitzwilliam) I need

to get to the manor.

I've some questions

for Lord Whitfield.

I see.

Look sharp.

And finish this.

She's a bit sticky in second.

(suspenseful music playing)

Fitzwilliam!

Breakfast?

(singsong) Eggs and kidneys!

The Lord knows my heart is pure.

So the police hold no terrors for me.

No. (chuckles)

What worries me at times like this

is folks getting too familiar.

Fitz.

For instance

Why are you here?

Is it more

of your fairy-tale research?

Because I'm beginning to wonder if

you aren't researching Miss Conway.

Oh. Huh.

Did I spoil your little plan?

(scoffs)

Plan?

Believe me, sir.

Wychwood has cured me of my "plans."

I'm a man of God, Mr Fitzwilliam.

And God has made me

a "friends close, enemies closer"

kind of chap.

I've always been an upright man

and beholden to no one.

I stand alone.

God and my own hard work did not

raise me from Ashe Bottom

to be cast down

by someone like you

or Rivers.

Ashe Bottom.

Your people, sir. Your home.

That must mean something.

Ashe Bottom made you

the man you are.

- (clattering)

- I made myself.

Me and God.

I put my faith in Providence,

not not people.

I I I know

what they say about me.

Those envious dust grovellers.

What What Rivers said

at the meeting.

And look what happened to him.

What did happen to him, sir?

Just as the patriarchs prospered,

their enemies smitten,

he was struck down by divine wrath.

Tell me, Fitz, do you recall how

the bears

devoured the children

who mocked the prophet Elisha.

- The children. Yes, I recall.

- Well, Elisha was a great man.

The Lord wouldn't suffer anyone

to mock him and live.

Oh, no.

Or mock you?

Like Tommy Pierce.

(scoffs)

In my own home! Ha

After Carter abused me and died,

or when Mrs Horton,

vile woman,

thwarted me at the board,

I couldn't be sure.

But after Tommy

and then Amy,

sassing me back

(scoffs)

there was no denying it.

I've done right by my Creator

and my Creator has done right by me.

Simply put,

my enemies are always exterminated.

- Like Reverend Humbleby.

- Exactly.

You heard how he insulted me.

He refused to see.

I stand for righteousness,

and God stands with me.

So you could say,

you know who's going to die.

It's out of my control.

I'm

just giving you

a friendly warning.

Anyone who crosses me

(whispering) Even someone

I'm fond of, like Bridget

Hmm.

Oh!

What a find for my collection.

Well done, Miss Wayneflete!

Now, there

is a woman I can truly respect.

Capable and a lady.

Rare. (chuckles)

You know, it's hard to imagine now,

but she was

she was handsome in her day.

Independent, clever.

She was off to Cambridge, you know?

(chuckles)

I do sometimes wonder what

What she, er, thinks of me now,

since we, erm

Her admiration is very clear,

my Lord.

Just one last thing.

How exactly is this

divine justice accomplished?

Well

That's up to God

isn't it?

Bridget

What was that?

Exterminated?

And all that about Miss Wayneflete.

What does he mean?

Perhaps if I ask her to explain.

He tried to frame you, Bridget.

He put those shoes

in the boot of the car,

and now he's ready to k*ll you.

k*ll? Gordon?

It just doesn't seem

He admitted every single death

was divine justice for insulting him.

A respectable person.

A point to make.

A Rolls in London on Derby Day.

I have to get you out of here.

DS Bull is never going to denounce

the most powerful man in Wychwood.

- He wants to arrest me.

- Scotland Yard.

Like Miss Pinkerton said.

Catch the London Express and

Scotland Yard

might have believed Miss Pinkerton

but an African man?

Invading respectable homes?

It takes power to destroy power,

Bridget.

And we have none.

I've got an idea.

I know what to do.

And I know who can do it.

Right.

Leave this to me.

Ladies

We need your help.

I thought I made myself clear,

Fitzwilliam.

Yes, my Lord.

Just, er

- Just one more thing.

- (vacuum cleaner whirrs)

A religious matter, actually.

I wanted to know

Elisha and the bear.

Which Which book is that?

Kings.

And it it was two bears.

Two?

And how many boys did they devour?

Forty-two.

I'm no prophet.

Tommy Pierce's death

was enough for me.

Sorry, sir,

I didn't quite catch that.

- (shouting) I said

- (vacuum cleaner turns off)

Tommy's death satisfied me!

(normal voice) But then there was

Rivers, the upstart. And Carter.

That wanton Amy with the red hair.

You m*rder*d our Amy?

(sputtering)

Stop it! Stop it! Stop this.

- Or I will

- What? What? k*ll us?

You murdering sod.

(Fitzwilliam)

DS Bull, you're right on time.

Arrest this man.

He's confessed to six murders

before these witnesses.

I wouldn't release him

if I were you.

All right!

(grunts and sputters)

He's a homicidal maniac.

Did you put these madwomen

up to this?

A Rolls-Royce knocked down

Miss Lavinia Pinkerton on Derby Day.

Call Scotland Yard.

Ask them for the registration.

(snaps fingers)

Do it.

I hope you don't mind if I ask you

a rather personal question.

I'll answer as honestly as I can.

I've been wondering

Your friendship

with Gordon.

Who ended it and why?

I had a canary.

He asked me

if I loved it more than him.

I

He rung its neck.

But it was the look on his face

I see.

F-A-S-9-2-2.

Isn't that

Erm

So that's the reg of my Rolls!

Apparently a witness reported it

at the scene.

- (door closes)

- No one followed it up.

(butler) Major Horton.

Fitz.

So it was him?

He did it?

Hold on, hold on, hold on.

Did you know all along

that Gordon was the m*rder*r?

I'd suspected it.

But he's a lord.

Who would believe me?

With the rich and mighty

all we have is patience.

Lavinia was the only one who knew,

and see where that got her?

(butler) A letter from Miss Conway,

sir.

Bridget didn't write this.

Where is it?

Lord Whitfield, where's the knife?

Erm

Er Hon Miss Wayneflete

took it home for a clean-up.

Here.

Real Lapsang Souchong.

What if the police don't arrest him?

He'll come for you next.

He's quite mad.

Broadmoor and straitjacket mad,

no?

- (cat meows)

- Oh!

Algernon's ear really is

quite gruesome.

Do they not do penicillin for cats?

(suspenseful music playing)

(Humbleby) Oh, blast!

(Wayneflete) Oh, goodness me!

Give it to me.

Here.

That should do it.

Lord Whitfield, you said

Miss Wayneflete

was a woman you can truly respect.

But you wonder what she thought

of you since you

since you what?

Go on, Gordy.

Tell 'em what you did.

You see, Gordon was employed

by Miss Wayneflete's father

here at the manor.

(distorted scraping)

(teacup clatters)

A walk before supper to wake us up.

(Bridget) (distorted and echoing)

# O why do you walk

# Through the fields in gloves. #

# O lean white woman.

# Who nobody loves? #

Oppressively warm, isn't it?

(Bridget) # O why do you walk.

# Through the fields in gloves.

(normal voice)

# O lean white woman. #

Who nobody loves?

What's that, dear?

Sleepy?

Lapsang has that effect

on some people.

I'm not a cliché, you know?

A woman scorned.

Jealous of you and Gordon.

I was headed for Cambridge.

A scholarship!

I daren't tell my family.

All I wanted was independence.

She was a friend

and she trusted me.

So she told me her secret.

She'd run away to Cambridge.

Well, I

Her father said that if I didn't

tell him

where she'd gone,

he was going to sack us all.

He was going to throw us

off the estate, so

I had no choice.

I told him.

(Wayneflete) I was unpacking my books

when my father came for me.

Gordon had betrayed me, you see?

Securing himself

a step up the ladder.

But for me

that was the end of it.

They just They locked her up

like a prisoner in a cage.

Broke her little heart.

Crushed it.

Just like she

crushed that

that little bird

with her hands.

(bird tweeting)

Gordon Whitfield.

Bootmaker's son.

Made his fortune.

Bought Ashe Manor.

My home.

He took my beautiful life.

Turned me into a pathetic nothing.

But I never showed my feelings.

Well, it's how we girls were raised,

isn't it, Bridget?

It's in our breeding.

Show nothing. No matter what.

But I needed him to suffer for it.

And that's when it came to me.

I'd make him the m*rder*r.

k*ll anyone who crossed him

so that he would be the one accused.

Humiliated, locked up.

He'd be punished for my crimes.

Extraordinary.

Easy.

(Fitzwilliam) Miss Wayneflete!

- (Horton) Fitz

- (Fitzwilliam) She has Bridget!

(dramatic music plays)

So here we are.

Gordon will be joining us soon.

(both grunting)

(panting)

Nothing! All my life I was nothing!

(Fitzwilliam) Bridget!

(coughs and gasps)

Bridget

(police whistle blows in distance)

Oh, I see.

I suppose this is where you tell me

how you always knew it was me.

For your vanity or mine.

But I didn't.

I thought it was Lord Whitfield.

Just like you wanted.

(Wayneflete) I knew Gordon would tell

everyone the deaths were Providence,

smoothing his path.

exterminated.

Like Reverend Humbleby?

But I had to k*ll the vicar twice

for you to notice,

The iodine on the dressing

infected from the cat.

You poisoned Reverend Humbleby's

drink at tennis, didn't you?

What with?

(Wayneflete) Strychnine.

Rat poison.

Everyone knew he and Whitfield

had been at loggerheads

over the New Town.

It's pure vanity!

(Fitzwilliam) You were

in the library at Ashe Manor

when you saw Tommy ridiculing

Lord Whitfield on the balcony.

You targeted those

who had slighted Lord Whitfield.

- (screams)

- (body thuds)

You saw Carter,

drunk at the sluices channel

then you opened the levers,

swept him away in the current.

(Wayneflete) I didn't push him.

It was luck.

The scratches round the keyhole.

You opened Amy's door from

the outside and swapped the bottles.

Detective novels. So educational.

Dr Thomas

Hemlock, I presume?

You grow it in your garden.

(spritzes)

I recall its distinctive smell.

It was you in the surgery,

planting evidence

that would give cause

for Lord Whitfield to seek revenge.

(Wayneflete) Just a little something

to steer you in the right direction.

But no one's infallible.

Not even you.

Like your mishap k*lling Rivers

after his outburst at the inquest.

- (thwack)

- (grunts)

You were interrupted.

(indistinct talking

in distance)

Leaving a broken shoe heel.

Which I covered very creatively,

planting it in Lord Whitfield's car.

Lydia Horton.

- (coughs)

- Strychnine again?

(Wayneflete) No, arsenic.

She said the tea Gordon

had sent her

tasted odd.

But did anyone listen?

Derby Day.

You followed Miss Pinkerton

to London.

The driver

didn't k*ll Miss Pinkerton.

You pushed her.

(tyres screech, crash)

(Wayneflete)

But the driver didn't stop.

Why would he?

Just an old woman.

(Fitzwilliam) So you gave the police

Lord Whitfield's registration number

and disappeared into the crowd,

but the police disregarded

the testimony of a woman.

And today you took the knife covered

in Lord Whitfield's fingerprints,

as if it was sent from Bridget,

to lead him to her m*rder.

Which, of course,

would have removed all doubt.

None of which would

have been necessary if anyone

(Fitzwilliam) Noticed your clues?

(chuckles)

Perhaps you're just too clever.

I had my moments.

The entire village at my mercy,

never knowing where I'd strike next.

Me

who they'd all treated

as if I had forever been

this dour, pointless old maid.

It is galling

that not a single one of them

pointed the finger at Gordon.

Perhaps no one listens to old women.

Perhaps we're invisible.

Not to me.

Just unheard.

Unseen.

A respectable person,

disrespected.

In a place where

m*rder is easy.

(down-tempo music plays)

(car door slams)

I wish you all the best, my

clever Bridget.

Capable and a lady.

Too good for me, probably.

It's very gentlemanly of you,

Gordon.

Oh (laughs)

m*rder*r?

Me?

Hmm.

I don't even hunt.

(chuckles)

(gentle music playing)

(Bridget) Dangerously emotional.

Romantic tosh.

(both chuckle)

Did you give Mrs Pierce

Miss Pinkerton's derby money?

Good.

They'll know

what best to do with it.

For Ashe Bottom.

So what will you do Mr Obiako?

I should be in Nigeria.

For independence.

They must miss you.

I know I will.

- If I stayed here

- You'd be lost.

In the woods.

And you, Bridget?

What will you do?

Where will you go?

Frankly

I don't give a damn.

Maybe I'll travel.

Maybe I'll turn detective.

It's 1954!

A woman can do whatever she likes.

That's my theory anyway,

and I intend to test it.

Thoroughly.

Do watch out for waterwheels, Fitz.

And forests.

Old ladies on trains

telling tall stories.

(whistles)

(bird screeches)

(chuckles)

Should I encounter

any of those, I'll be in touch.

(softly) Bridget Conway.

(Pinkerton) Whatever happens now,

someone else knows the truth.

Someone I can trust.

Can't I?

Yes.

(ship horn blows)

(gentle music playing)