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02x06 - The Raven: Final Chapter

Posted: 11/20/22 09:13
by bunniefuu
Previously on
"Queens of Mystery"...

The auctioneers are coming

to collect "The Tell-Tale Heart"

whether you like it or not.

Not if I have anything to do
with it, they won't.

I don't even own
a baseball bat.

Step out of the car,
please, sir.

I-I have to be somewhere.

Someone b*at Henry up
last night

and stole the manuscript.

Damn police.

But I'm more interested
in what the thief left behind --

a solitary black feather
just like the one

in Mum's safe deposit box.

What if The Raven is back?

We've got to get down there.

There's something wrong
with your Aunt Jane.

Everyone be quiet.

I knew something wasn't right.

Why are your aunts here, Stone?

Aunt Jane was the one
who found the body.

Of course she did.

I should've said
something earlier.

I k*lled Professor Rhineheart.

She's lying.

Because I k*lled
Professor Rhineheart.

Dr. Lynch.

What can you tell me
about the head wound?

I'd say the victim
almost certainly fell backwards

onto the corner
of the display case.

So they are both lying.

Yes, I've got the proof.
It's gonna cost you.

You need to speak
to Sally Capstan.

she interned
for Professor Rhineheart.


There was a time
in Matilda's life

when the harsh reality
of attending the local mortuary

was offset by the excitement
of seeing local GP

and pathologist
Dr. Daniel Lynch.

Sadly, that time had passed.



Sorry, yes.

She said the name twice
before she d*ed.

PC Foster is compiling
a list of anyone

with that name
who lives nearby.

Dr. Lynch, cause of death?

By the skin pallor and traces
of dried saliva

in the corners of the mouth,
I'd say she was poisoned.

I'll know more after the PM.

Put a hurry up on it.

If it is the same k*ller,

we need to stop them
before they strike again.


Carry on, Doc.


I know, it means
nothing to me either.

I had a one-night stand
with a drummer of that band

we saw at the rec that time.

Weren't they called Reynolds?


And she was the lead guitarist,
not the drummer.

And it was a fight,
not a one-night stand.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, God, I loved the '80s.

Oh, I meant to ask.

Who did you sell my Brian Flynn
first edition to?

Your what?

"The Mystery
of the Peacock's Eye."

It's been on display for weeks.

I didn't sell it.

Maybe I moved it.

Oh, I don't know.
I'll find it later.

Hello, I've come to pick up
a returns package.

- Hi, Henry.
- You're keeping yourself busy.

I do a bit of delivery work
on the side.

Mm, but it's not your only
other job, though, is it?

I mean, from what I discovered
yesterday, you have three.

Don't know what you mean.

Come on, Henry.

We know you're sleeping
on the job.

Spill the beans.


Alison run off with
another man about a year ago.

It's been tough, you know,
especially for the girls

growing up without a mum,
and it wasn't made any easier

with all the debt
she left behind.

- So you took on extra work.
- Yeah.

Except that still wasn't enough,
so I took on a third job

and I used the shift
at the Heritage House to sleep.

All worked like a charm
until the other night.

As soon as I woke up,
I knew something was wrong.

I knew if word got out that
I was sleeping on the job,

I'd get fired.

So I made it look like

I caught the intruders
in the act

and that they tied me up.

I never meant
to knock myself out.

That was an accident.
I was desperate.

If I lose the job,
I lose the house.

And while it was only a robbery,

I thought the insurance company
could take the h*t.

Except it wasn't just a robbery.

By the time I learned that,

I couldn't come clean without
getting into more trouble.

Right, you need to go to
the station and ask for Matilda.

Tell her everything
you've just told us

and pray that Inspector Thorne
doesn't want to charge you

with perverting
the course of justice.

I will. I promise.

Although yawning is said
to be contagious,

Jane Stone couldn't help
but wonder

if her and Henry's recent
bouts of oscitation

weren't somehow connected.

I do hope Matilda and Inspector
Thorne go easy on Henry.

Me too.

It can't be easy raising
those children on his own.

Oh, I'm so sorry, I wasn't
looking where I was going.

- That's okay.
- My fault.


Has to be around here

Come on, Cat, think.

- There we go.
- Thank you.


Thieving cow.

He's up to something.
I know it.

Oliver McGorrie,
he's just clumsy.

I'm not so sure.

You're alright here for a while,
aren't you?

Where are you going?


But Matilda told us not to.

The dictionary defines meddling
as interfering in something

that is not one's concern.

But, thought Jane Stone,

if the activity
was directly connected

to why she kept yawning...

Then I wouldn't
technically be meddling.

Microfiche records?

Of the local paper.

I've been to
The Wildemarsh Watchmen

looking for articles
about The Raven,

but all their back copies went
missing when they moved offices.

They said you'd have copies
on something called microfiche.

It's funny, no one's asked me
about microfiche for months,

then two people request the same
articles in as many days.

Come with me.

Someone else was asking
about The Raven?

Yes, Sally Capstan.
She asked me yesterday.

Microfiche are miniature
photographs of documents.

You need a staff ID card
to activate a search.

You can use mine.

It'll give you a list

of where the physical
microfiche files are located.

Do you remember the exact files
Sally asked for yesterday?

Um, I should still have
a printout here somewhere.

Yes, here it is.

You wait here.
I'll bring you the files.

You in here, Stone?


I've had a call you've been
pestering the local paper.

I was after articles about
The Raven,

but they couldn't help.

The librarian's getting me
their microfiche copies now.

There's, um...

something you need to know
about the Raven case.

Yes, sir?

Sorry to interrupt, but those
Raven files you asked for,

I put them back in the drawer

when Sally had finished
with them,

but now they've gone.

The thing is, Natasha...

Natasha, darling...

this isn't easy for me
to admit.

That is, I've been thinking
about it a lot

and I'm not sure
we aren't maybe,

you know, rushing into
this whole marriage thing.

Oh, she's gonna k*ll me.

- Come in.

I, um...

I need a favor.

You think whatever it was
Sally Capstan found

on the missing microfiche
is what got her k*lled.

It's a possibility, sir.

Have the room dusted for prints.

Find out who's been in here
who shouldn't have been.

But the sight
of her aunt Jane's brooch

already told Matilda
everything she needed to know.


I mean, sir.

Just now, you said
there was something

I should know
about the Raven case.

Did I?


Nope, it's gone.

Couldn't have been important.

Carry on, Sergeant.

Right, I want
an explanation for this.

I'm sorry. I let you down.

You haven't seen my aunts,
have you?

No, sorry.

I want a word with you.

Well, that will have to wait.

We have the test results
for the coffee.

What coffee?

The other day, I borrowed some
coffee from the security office.

I'm sorry, Henry.
I should have asked first.

I've been really tired
ever since.

When I saw that Henry
keeps yawning, too,

I couldn't help but think
there might be a connection.

I ran some tests on the coffee
and found it was laced

with two different types
of sedative.

So whoever stole the manuscript
wanted to make sure

that Henry was out cold
before they broke in.

No wonder you fell asleep,

Still doesn't excuse me lying
about the break-in.

No, but given
your circumstances,

this may be understandable.

Does that mean
I'll get to keep my job?

That depends on whether Sergeant
Stone wants to press charges.

Considering Henry's home situation,

Inspector Thorne and I
have agreed

to let him off
with a caution.

Then it's decided.

If you'd excuse us, Sergeant,
I would like to show Henry

my plans for a new
security system.

Has anyone seen
Victoria Durrell?

Oh, yes, I just saw her
heading home.

Matty, I found out something
about Oliver McGorrie.

Right, that's it, I want a word
with all three of you now.

And, Aunt Jane, there had better
be a blooming good reason

why I found your brooch
at the exact spot

important evidence was stolen.

I didn't even realize
I'd lost it.

Actually, Matilda,
I did need to talk to you

about Sally Capstan's
postmortem results.

Why don't we wait for you
by the gates?

Yeah, give you a chance
to cool your jets.

Make it quick.

I don't think I have ever
seen Matilda so angry.

Well I'm not hanging around here
to get bawled out by my niece.

I'm off to find
Victoria Durrell.

I'll come with you.

No, wait, I need your help
tailing Oliver McGorrie.

I caught him searching
Sally Capstan's locker.

I wonder what for.

Don't know.
We need to find out.

Sally Capstan was poisoned
with a lethal dose of camphor.


It's used as an embalming fluid.

There'd be a plentiful
supply on-site

for preserving artifacts.

Thanks for letting me know.

I did also want to talk to you
about something more personal...

But it can wait.

Where have they gone now?

I know you're in there,



Get back!

Don't do it, Victoria.

I'm sorry.

Ah, you are quite
the bibliophile.


A bibliophile loves books.

Bibliomania is an obsessive
compulsive disorder

involving the collecting
and hoarding of books.

Oh, well, I stand corrected.

It's why I became a librarian.

I thought being around books all
day would satisfy my cravings.

Mm, and how's that
working out for you?

I have spent my entire
inheritance on books.

When the money ran out,

I started stealing them
from wherever I could.

I'd been stealing from
Heritage House for years.

Ah, but now Matilda
wants you to do a stock take.

I'd been trying
to put the books back,

but there are too many of them.

I knew it wouldn't be long
before the thefts

were discovered.

So you decided to destroy
the evidence?

Except that proved
harder than I thought.

The missing manuscript.

Well, I never had Victoria
Durrell down as a m*rder.

Remember this number --

0161 496 0972.

- Right. That's right. Bye.

What was the number?

0161 496 0972.

You're a wonder,
do you know that?

Am I?

Antiquities and Fine Art
Department, can I help you?

- So that's Oliver's game.
- Hello?

It might also explain
how I lost my brooch.

How do you mean?

Let's go and find Henry Wade.
I'll explain on the way.

Did Professor Rhineheart catch
you stealing the manuscript?

Is that why you k*lled him?

I didn't k*ll anybody.

So, you're denying you stole
the manuscript?

Alright, yes,
I stole the manuscript.

But I stole it five years ago.

I replaced the original
manuscript with a facsimile.

Whoever broke into
Heritage House

stole the forgery.


For all his so-called expertise,

Professor Rhineheart
never noticed

the manuscript was a fake.

But I knew the auctioneers

would spot it
as soon as they picked it up.

Which was the real reason
you were so desperate

to prevent the sale.

When my petition didn't work,

I knew I had to put
the real manuscript back.

I thought if I got in
extra early,

I could make the swap
without anyone noticing.

Except by then,
it had been stolen.

I can't tell you
how relieved I was.

Heritage House would get
the insurance money,

the thief got what he deserved,
and best of all,

I got to keep
the original manuscript.

Until I insisted
on a stock take.

I've been panicking ever since
I'd be found out.

I'm sorry for what I did,
but I can't help myself.

Will I go to prison?

Forgery, theft,
obstruction of justice...

it's highly likely.

Do you think they'll let me work
in the prison library?

Thanks so much for doing this,


We need to find Matilda.

What am I looking at?

Security footage
from this morning.

Oliver McGorrie stole my brooch

and planted it beside
the stolen microfiche

to put you off his scent.

- Why?
- Money.

We caught him calling a company
that specializes

in stolen artifacts
and insurance rewards.


Are we going to speak to Oliver?

We aren't going anywhere.

You three have done enough
for one day.

I've borrowed this
from the recording booth

so you don't have
to go back there.

If you want to make yourselves

finish off
Aunt Jane's audio book.

Anyone would think
she didn't want our help.

Come clean or I'm arresting you

for perverting
the course of justice.

You're a former police officer

who investigates
the theft of rare books

for an antiques recovery agency.

I've just come off the phone
with your employer.

I lied when I said I was
a retired civil servant.

The disguise,
the whole clumsy thing,

it was so people
wouldn't suspect who I was.

I wanted to tell you,
but I was determined

to be the one to catch
Professor Rhineheart.

Professor Rhineheart?

In recent years, there's been
a number of rare book thefts

from famous libraries
and museums.

All looked like inside jobs,

but no one individual worked
at all the sites.

The link had to be someone
that made regular visits

to each of the locations.

Like a famous professor
researching his new book.


When I heard he was visiting

I knew he was planning on
stealing "The Tell-Tale Heart."

So you volunteered to work
at Heritage House

in the hope of
catching him in the act.

Yes, that was the plan, except
he must've sussed out who I was.

I'm certain Rhineheart planted
the baseball bat in my car,

then made a false call
to the police.

The period that I was detained
in custody

was all the time he needed
to steal the manuscript,

make his getaway.

But Professor Rhineheart
didn't get away.

He was m*rder.

I figured by his accomplice.

See, my theory is that
Rhineheart targeted sites

where he knew someone
who could help him.

Sally Capstan.

As I see it,
Sally k*lled Rhineheart

and then took off
with the manuscript.

See, I made it my mission to
find out where she'd hidden it,

but first I had to delay
your investigation

and get those nosey aunts
of yours out of the way.

Which is why you stole
my aunt Jane's brooch.

I saw Sally ask
Victoria for help

with the microfiche.

After she was k*lled,
I knew you'd follow up

on her movements.

So I planted your aunt's brooch
where I knew you'd find it.

And I was hoping to get
your aunts to back off.

You clearly don't know my aunts.

But if Sally k*lled Professor
Rhineheart, who k*lled her?

That's what I haven't been
able to figure out,

but it has to have something
to do with the robbery somehow.

What if Sally didn't k*ll
the professor?

What if there were two robberies
that night?

It would explain why
Henry's coffee

was laced with two different
kinds of sleeping draught --

both sets of thieves trying to
ensure he was asleep on the job.

Professor Rhineheart
and Sally Capstan

could've tried
stealing the manuscript

but ran into someone else
doing the same thing.

Be ironic if it was true.

Professor Rhineheart,
Sally Capstan -- both writers,

both d*ad trying to steal
an old book.

Authors of their own demise,



That's what Sally
was trying to tell me.

I don't understand.

Reynolds is an author.

I don't have time to explain.
I've got a library to search.





Thank you, George.

Robin Brunswick.

The 31st.

That was a week ago.

And it was in that
moment that Matilda realized

she'd been fooled
not by one person, but by two.

It was a double double bluff.

Thorne here.
Leave a message.

Inspector Thorne,
it's Sergeant Stone.

Meet me at Heritage House.

I know who the m*rder are.

It didn't have to come to this.

You could have let it be.

WOMAN #But you should have
told me the truth.

I'd have understood.

WOMAN #Truth?
You weren't ready for the truth.

No one ever is.

Oh, I can handle the truth.

It's the lies that k*ll me.

WOMAN #Oh, yeah.

WOMAN #Watch out!
He's got a Kn*fe.

- WOMAN #Come here!


- Oh, I'm sorry, I thought --

That someone might be
stealing my jewelry?

Ah, that's what I came
to apologize for.

It was wrong of me
to plant your brooch

inside the microfiche vault.

I am sorry.

I explained everything
to your niece,

and it seemed to help.

- Help how?
I'm not sure.

She said something about
authors and about

what Sally was trying to
tell her, and then she left.

Did she say
where she was going?

The Heritage House library,
I think.

The library...


Yes, of course.

Come on, we've got
to help Matilda.

Which of you k*lled
Professor Rhineheart?

Does it matter?

It was an accident.

You should have told us
the truth.

We'd have understood.

Like the police did last time,
you mean?

I read your file.

You were convicted
of first-degree m*rder.

It was self-defense.

He b*at me for years.

Do you know the worst part?

Your sentence doesn't stop
when you're released.

Prison leaves its mark.

People can smell
the time on you.

It wasn't like that with Rob.

He saw me for who I really was.

And when I got out,

he was the only one
who'd give me a second chance.

It wasn't difficult
to fall in love with him.

When did you know
the manuscript was a forgery?

Not until a few days ago.

I was cleaning

as Professor Rhineheart
was studying the manuscript.

He left the room, and I couldn't
resist taking a closer look.

I'm not an expert.

I shared a cell with a forger,

and she taught me enough to know
I was looking at a fake.

I knew the auctioneers would
spot it straightaway

and they would cancel the sale.

We couldn't let that happen.

Heritage House needed the money
from the auction to stay open.

So you decided to drug
Henry's coffee

to ensure the coast was clear,
steal the manuscript,

and use the insurance money
to save Heritage House.

All we needed to do
was leave a few false leads

to make it look like
The Raven was back.

Which is why I found
Robin Brunswick's name on a list

of people who'd accessed
the stolen microfiche files.

He was researching The Raven
for what clues to leave.

We'd just finished
setting everything up

then Professor Rhineheart
turned up.

Rhineheart went mad.

It was all Rob could do
to defend himself.

He's d*ad.

Rob panicked.

He wanted to call the police,

but I knew from experience
that if the truth came out,

we were both going to prison.

So we hid Rhineheart
in the grandfather clock

and agreed to come back
the following night

to dispose of him.

Except in the meantime,
my Aunt Jane found the body.

I knew you would eventually find
my criminal record

and I'd fall under suspicion,

which is why we had to confess.

A double double bluff.

You each gave false confessions,

neither of which matched with
how Rhineheart really d*ed,

so as to place yourselves
above suspicion.

And it would have worked

if it hadn't have been
for Sally Capstan.


It's over, Kaz.


Get as far away
from this place as you can.

I'll keep the sergeant busy.

Sally knew you had stolen
the manuscript, didn't she?

She was Rhineheart's lookout.

She saw us leaving together.

After the robbery, Sally went
looking in the microfiche vault

for information about The Raven,

and that's when she found proof
that you'd done the same --

proof she used
to blackmail you with.

She threatened to show
the police

unless I cut her in
on the profits.

You never told me!

You poisoned Sally Capstan.

k*lling Sally was the only way

you could guarantee
the truth wouldn't come out.

And with Sally out of the way,
you knew you'd be in the clear.

Say it's not true, Rob!

What was I supposed to do?!

She'd have ruined everything!

Rob, stop it!

Let her go!

Stop it, Rob!

- Rob!
- Aah!



Put pressure on the wound.
Call an ambulance!

Don' me.

I don't want
to go back to prison.

No, no, no, no. No, please.

I love you.



Any deeper and that
could have been serious.

All done.

I'll pop by tomorrow,

check if that dressing
needs changing.

So, all that stuff Sally told me

about the NDA
in the auction house...

A cover story to explain why
she pretended not to know him.

How's the shoulder, Sergeant?

- Fine, sir, thank you.
- Quick question.

The feather, the rope --
they were all red herrings?

Robin and Karen wanted the
theft to look like The Raven,

throw everyone off the scent.

They'd heard rumors
about The Raven,

but they hadn't got the details.

Sally discovered Robin was
searching microfiche files

for information on The Raven
and put two and two together.

So then Sally hid
the incriminating microfiche

in a book by an author named
Reynolds for safekeeping.

Right, well, I'm glad
that clears that up.

Carry on, Sergeant.


Still volunteering?

Ah, Sergeant Stone.

The council
has asked me to stay on

to supervise the sale
of the real manuscript.

Look, I'm sorry about trying
to fix your aunts up.

No hard feelings, eh?

Not as long as
you hand over the rest

of the stolen microfiche.

I thought Sally Capstan
took them all?

As far as I know, she only took
the one I found in the book.

Well, sorry, Sergeant.
It wasn't me.

As Aunt Jane
admired her brooch,

the Raven badge
found at Edith Bryant's house

was among the many
corvus-related items

that her niece was
struggling to pin down.

Another date with George?

Open mic night.

Oh, what's the matter?

I'd have thought
you'd like that.

I do, but it's just
this Raven thing.

It's still bugging me.

The police files were destroyed
in a flood,

the newspaper reports vanished,
and all but one

of the microfiche files
have been stolen.

I thought Oliver McGorrie
took them.

He says not.

It's like someone wants
to erase all proof

The Raven ever existed.

Can't help wondering
if Mum's disappearance

isn't somehow connected.

What do you think?

I think sometimes
when bad things happen,

to try to make sense of those
things, we make connections.

Yeah, maybe you're right.

Enjoy your date.

Thank you.

While Jane Stone hated herself
for keeping the truth

from her beloved niece,
Dr. Daniel Lynch

was about to hate himself
for telling the truth.

Oh, Beatrice, what do you think?


Could you give us a minute?

Of course.

What are you doing here?

You know it's bad luck
for the groom

to see the dress
before the big day.

There's not going to be
a big day, is there?

I'm sure you'll have one.

One day.

Just not with me.

It's, uh, Matilda, isn't it?

I'm sorry.

Do you love her?

I think so.


Then you'd better go tell her.

You're not angry.

Oh, I'm working up to angry.

I'm currently in self-loathing.

Thank you.

Will Madam be taking the dress?

Inspector Thorne.


You want to sell some books?

Stolen books.

- You stole some books?
- Yes.


No, these are your books.
Victoria Durrell stole them.

I wanted you
to have them back.

Oh, thank you, that's very
kind of you, Inspector.

I-It's Derek, remember?

That's very kind of you, Derek.

Was there something else?


I'd like to ask you
out to dinner.

Did you say something?


Thank you, everybody.

Okay, next up we've got
a first-timer -- be kind.

Terry Faster.

- It's Foster.
- That's what I said.


This is an anonymous
poem I found called "Raven."

Rank rebel raven,

all colored as a coal,

oh, crow untrue.

Flaps he into flight,
fanning on the wind.

High is he upon his heart
to hearken tidings.

Croaks he for comfort,
for carrion he finds,

cast upon the cliffs
where rotting corpses lay.

Inspector Thorne.

Filling full his belly,
full soon slips yesterday,

strife and storm,
forgotten his captain's charges.

Mrs. Bryant?

Left in the coffer,
the raven wrecking forth.

Mrs. Bryant!

Matilda, is everything alright?

- Yeah.
- You sure?

- Yeah, everything's fine.

It is a central tenet of any
detective's investigation

that a single lie discovered

is enough to create doubt
in every truth expressed.

What else, wondered Matilda,

had Inspector Thorne
lied about?

And more importantly, why?

It's that sometimes,

you find the right person,
you just...

know, don't you?

Sorry, what were you saying?

I said you just know.

And while Matilda's mind raced
with a thousand questions

for Inspector Thorne...

Thanks for opening up late,

My pleasure, Ms. Stone.

...her aunts were doing
everything in their power

to ensure the answer
to the one question

that had haunted Matilda since
childhood remained a mystery.

If Matilda ever finds out...

We have to pray she doesn't.

Prayers were also in
Dr. Daniel Lynch's thoughts

as he raced to declare
his undying love for Matilda --

prayers Matilda would see past
his foolish engagement

to Natasha.

Prayers that in this instance
were not to be answered.

So, as George seized the day,
others in Matilda's orbit

were left to contemplate life's
many missed opportunities.

The opportunity
to have grasped love

while it was still in reach.

Or conversely,
to have stopped love

slipping through your fingers.

To have admitted past mistakes

before those mistakes
were exposed.

Or to have confessed
to the truth

before being forced
down a path of lies.

Opportunities that,
once missed,

may never present
themselves again.

At least,
not without intervention

from a very unexpected