Magpie Murders (2022) s01e02 Episode Script

1
'Sir Magnus Pye was murdered
'two days after he returned
to his home at Pye Hall.
'Oh, no, that's crap.
'Monday Tuesday evening.
The funeral.
'The burglary.
'There is nowhere more
dangerous than an English village.
'Much better.
'And, in Saxby-on-Avon,
'everybody had a reason
to wish sir Magnus dead.
'But which one of them was it?
Who struck the fatal blow?
'Brent, the gardener?'
"you're worse than useless.
I've had enough of you"
- 'Sir Magnus said.'
- "What are you suggesting?
"That I didn't want to be fired,
so I cut his head off?"
'Very snarky.
'But could there be another
reason for the killing?
'What about the tragedy at
the lake twelve years ago?
'Could it be that
sir Magnus was responsible?'
"you never blamed him?"
'Pünd. Very German accent.'
"if I say I did Mr. Pünd,
would you accuse me of his murder?"
'Yes, I like that.
'And then there was the
untimely death of Mary Blakiston.
'Did her ex-husband want revenge?'
"you were no friend of sir Magnus."
"He took my wife and my family.
"He took everything I ever loved."
'There was no love lost
'between him and his sister Clarissa.'
"Pye Hall and all the land
should've been mine."
'And as for his marriage,
it was worse than mine.
"One day, I swear,
I'll put a knife in you,
"and I won't care if I hang for it."
'That's it.
Get all the suspects lined up,
'and then
'That night, sir Magnus was alone.
'Darkness had fallen
on Saxby-on-Avon.
'At Pye Hall, all was still.
'But in the grounds,
a soft breeze rippled across the lake.
'The water was as cold
and as black as death itself.
'And that night, indeed,
'the house was to
be witness to murder.'
"I think you ought to leave."
Huh-huh.
Here we are. Your tea.
Thank you, James.
Did you see this?
Yes. Dreadful.
Poor Lady Mountbatten.
- I'm sorry?
- Her car was stolen.
It says it was in the
middle of Hyde Park.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
That's not the story I meant.
Here.
"Baronet murdered."
"Police were called
to the village of Saxby-on-Avon
"following the death of sir Magnus Pye,
"a wealthy local landowner
and the owner of Pye Hall."
Sir Magnus Pye.
- We don't know him, do we?
- No,
but Saxby-on-Avon is the
village the young lady came from.
Joy Sanderling.
You introduced her to me recently.
Of course!
And Mary Blakiston,
the mother of her fiance,
also died at Pye Hall.
- She worked for sir Magnus.
- Eh quite a coincidence.
A coincidence?
You think so?
I told miss Sanderling
that I could not help,
there was nothing I could do,
but what she asked me
was rumour, innuendo.
A suspicion that Robert Blakiston
might have played a
part in his mother's death.
And does this make any difference?
Oh, yes.
This is murder.
And murder can be solved.
So you think they're connected?
Mary Blakiston and sir Magnus Pye?
She was his housekeeper,
so the answer is self-evident.
It's my belief there is no
such thing as a coincidence.
Everything in life is part of a pattern,
and coincidence is simply the moment
when that pattern becomes briefly visible.
As such, it must be of
great value to the detective.
It's something that I've written about.
Mm, your book.
"The landscape of criminal investigation".
I can't wait to read it.
The way things are going, you
may end up having to write it.
You'll never stop this flame
I will never let you go
well, who am I to say?
Maybe by now you should know
you got your somebody calling
you think you're
somebody, don't you?
I think you're scared
of keeping somebody close
you'll never stop this flame
I will never let you go ♪
Excuse me.
- Uh, what's happening here?
- Roadworks.
Y yeah.
I I sort of got that.
Um, it's just that I've been
sitting here quite a while.
- There's lights.
- Do they ever go green?
They're green now.
- Nobody's moving, though.
- Yeah, I've noticed.
Come on!
- Hello, you!
- Hi, Katie!
- Ah, this is a surprise!
- I told you I was coming!
I know, but you actually turned up.
Oh!
Come on, come on in.
- I'll put the kettle on.
- Oh, great. Thanks.
Hey.
Uh, how's the room?
Perfect. Of course.
Sure you don't mind me staying?
Oh, no, no.
I'm happy to see you.
It's just going to be us, though,
I'm afraid.
- Oh, where's Gordon?
- Uh, New York. At a conference.
New York!
And you didn't want to go?
Oh,
I couldn't get that much time off.
- What, from the garden centre?
- Mm. They made me manager.
- I know. Congratulations.
- Thank you.
Well, it's horticultural manager.
It's one under general manager.
- But you enjoy it.
- Yeah, it keeps me busy.
Jack's in Amsterdam,
getting up to god knows what,
and Daisy's with friends,
so it really is just me
and you against the world.
Like we always were.
What do you mean?
Oh, when we were children.
Yeah, I saw the photo.
- Which photo?
- In the bedroom.
Oh, that's just there
because that's where it is.
- I didn't put it there.
- Oh, I know.
It's funny, though,
looking at it, though, isn't it?
We were inseparable.
- We were.
- Until we separated.
I'm not sure that we did, did we?
Well, you in London, me here.
Yeah, I'm sorry.
I haven't really been in
touch very much lately.
It's just that I've been
so busy with the company
and now this business with Alan
- No, I was sorry to hear that.
- Yeah.
Look, I know you hate it,
but do you mind if I smoke?
You never liked him, did you?
Oh,
he was a complete pain in the arse.
Every dot, every comma
I mean, I know a lot of authors
are protective of their work,
but with Alan it was like I
was trying to rewrite the Bible.
He took against me at
our very first meeting,
so from then on, we only
ever communicated by email.
So, are you here for the funeral?
No. That's next weekend.
I know it's gonna sound crazy,
but I'm here to look
for the last chapter
of his new book, "Magpie Murders".
Is it missing?
Well,
we don't even know if he wrote it,
but he certainly never sent it.
Now he's dead and we really need it,
or we could go out of
business if we don't find it.
- Seriously?
- Seriously. Yeah.
When did you last see him?
Oh, about two years ago, I think.
I used to bump into
him in Woodbridge.
He must have shown
the book to someone.
Maybe he even
gave someone a copy.
So, where are you gonna start?
Alan lived outside a village.
I'll start there.
I was a great fan of his books.
I have to say it
was a terrible shock.
You found him.
On Sunday morning, yes.
It was horrible.
I'll never get that
image out of my head.
I'm sorry.
Thank you.
How well did you know him?
Well, I'd been his
solicitor for many years.
I acted for him when
he bought Abbey Grange
and of course in the
matter of his divorce
from his wife, Melissa.
Did you know that he was ill?
No.
He never mentioned it to me.
So you had no idea he
was intending to kill himself?
Of course not.
Although
What?
Well, he had decided
to make a new will.
That was the reason I
was there at the house.
Oh, so it wasn't social?
No, no, no.
We didn't have that sort of relationship.
Right, right.
And the will?
Well, obviously I can't
disclose any of the contents.
No. No, no, no. Of course.
I mean, I wouldn't dream of asking.
I was a great admirer of his work.
I've always loved a
good murder story,
and Alan, well, he always kept
you guessing right till the end.
- You've read all his books?
- Oh, absolutely.
He told me he was going
to base a character on me
- Ah!
- In the new book.
I'm very much
looking forward to that.
And he would always sign a
first edition for me and my wife.
That's the two of us
there at a charity dinner.
Right.
I don't suppose he ever
showed you the manuscripts
before they were finished?
If only.
I'd have been honoured.
But, uh, no,
he never really talked about his work.
And he didn't give you a
copy or anything like that
- for safekeeping?
- No.
Mr. Khan
I need to get into
Abbey Grange to find something.
Don't suppose you could help me?
I'm afraid I don't have a key,
and even if I did,
I couldn't possibly let you in.
Although I understand his partner,
James Taylor,
is in residence.
Permanently?
So I believe.
Abbey Grange is a splendid house,
a remarkable place.
It will be hard to imagine
it without Alan there.
Herr Pünd!
My dear Detective Inspector Chubb.
It's a great pleasure to see you again.
- Mr. Fraser.
- Hello.
Oh, it still baffles me
how you did it last time.
A dead body in a locked room,
the key in the butter dish -
- it made no sense to me at all.
- I was aware of that.
I can't imagine
what brings you to this neck
of the woods a second time.
- Did you know sir Magnus?
- No, we had never met,
but there was a housekeeper
who also died in this place
Mary Blakiston. Yes.
Very unfortunate accident.
Well, it has been suggested to me
there might be more to her
death than meets the eye.
Let me put your mind at rest, herr Pünd.
I looked into it myself,
and it was absolutely straightforward.
She was vacuuming
at the top of the stairs,
she tripped, and she fell.
And what of last night?
Come in.
The murder took place
about nine o'clock last night.
Sir Magnus was decapitated.
So I see.
Now, the sword was taken
from that suit of armour.
A single blow.
A lot of blood.
If you will forgive me, Detective Inspector,
could we perhaps
begin at the beginning.
Let us go back to the first death.
What, you're still on
about that housekeeper?
Was sir Magnus at home at
the time when Mrs. Blakiston died?
No, he was away on
holiday with his wife, Lady Pye.
They got home two
days after the funeral.
'An unpleasant surprise
was awaiting them.'
I need a drink.
'Sir Magnus had a collection
of Roman antiquities -
'but only two nights before,
'it turns out they'd been burgled.'
what the
I don't believe it.
It's all gone!
How did they get in?
I have no idea.
Mary Blakiston should have been here.
How irritating of her to die.
- Oh, for god's sake!
- I told you!
We should have come back.
Oh, I wouldn't go to a
housekeeper's funeral.
Anyway,
what difference would it have made?
We would have been
here when this happened!
Well, where was Brent, hmm?
That's the question you should be asking.
Hmm.
Dithering about in the garden.
Bloody useless.
Where was he?
'And what had been taken?'
a collection of Roman silver.
Coins and jewellery.
It was part of a treasure trove
that was actually found in the grounds.
It had been in the
family for generations.
Sir Magnus did not attend the
funeral of his housekeeper, huh?
I don't suppose they were close.
Oh, no.
You Actually, you'd be wrong there.
By all accounts,
Mary Blakiston was devoted to sir Magnus.
She thought the world of him.
And he was always very supportive
of her and her two sons.
In fact, he He
What's he doing?
What he does.
Ah
Sir Magnus knew his killer.
How'd you work that one out?
From the position of both
the door and the armour,
Detective Inspector, is evident
that sir Magnus was showing
someone out of the house,
and they were behind him
when the blow was struck.
It's funny you should say that.
Uh follow me.
Sir Magnus's office is through here.
Now, from what we can work out,
sir Magnus met
someone in here last night.
The ashes were still warm,
and a second chair had
been brought over to the desk.
The safe.
Uh, that was open when
the body was discovered.
Who discovered the body?
It was Lady Frances Pye.
She got home a quarter to eleven.
It was a nasty shock.
There's money in there,
and also bonds and certificates.
Yes, it's interesting, isn't it?
Looks as if nothing's been taken.
- Why the fire?
- Why not?
It was not cold last night.
Let me see.
Oh!
Ha-ha! Here!
Here we are.
You see this, Detective Inspector?
- Blank.
- There's no writing,
but this stain may be of interest.
- Coffee?
- Or perhaps blood.
I suppose the question is whose blood?
That is also what I would like to know.
I'll look into it.
But if you're looking for
really incriminating evidence,
take a look at this.
"You won't get away with it.
"The village was here before you,
"and it will be here after you've gone.
"Think again if you want to live here.
"Think again if you want to live."
- Unsigned.
- And hand-delivered.
It's strange.
The envelope is hand-written,
and yet the letter is typed.
Where's Lady Pye?
Upstairs in her room.
Her son is with her back from school.
- You want to talk to her?
- Ay, if that is possible.
She's not exactly the grieving widow,
Mr. Pünd.
Take care on the stairs.
This is where Mary Blakiston
Yes fell down and broke her neck.
Unless she was pushed.
Mother,
when will I have to go back to school?
After the funeral, darling.
I don't like funerals.
Nobody does.
Yes?
Lady Pye, um
I wonder if we might
have another word?
Really, Detective Inspector,
we have been through all this.
This is Atticus Pünd.
He's a well-known investigator.
Will you take that, darling?
Whoever it is,
tell them I'm not well.
The telephones don't work upstairs.
Nothing works in this house.
It's just one thing after another.
Oh, it must have been a
great shock for you, Lady Pye.
To come home and find your
husband's been decapitated?
You could say that, yes.
What can you tell us about last night?
Not very much.
I was in London.
You were also away when
your housekeeper died.
Mary?
Well, she wasn't murdered.
She fell down the stairs.
What could you possibly
want to know about her?
Two violent deaths
in the same house
in such a short space of time.
You do not consider there
may have be a connection?
I can't say it had occurred to me.
What was the relationship
between your husband and Mrs. Blakiston?
She was the housekeeper.
There wasn't one!
Oh,
are you expecting a visitor, Lady Pye?
Not unless it's a delivery.
I'll go down, if you'd like.
Oh, thank you, James.
If you want the truth,
Mary Blakiston was a little
obsessed with my husband.
She'd worked for
him for twenty years.
She thought him a pillar of wisdom,
a mentor,
someone who'd look after her.
And?
Well, of course he wasn't.
- Hi.
- Yes?
James Taylor?
Yes
I'm Susan Ryeland.
I worked with Alan Conway.
I wondered if I could come in.
You sure you don't want anything?
No, I'm OK, thanks.
I can't believe I'm finally
getting to meet you.
Alan often used to talk about you.
Ha!
Not that he ever had
anything nice to say.
You were the, uh
Tricky editor,
the one who stood
between him and his genius.
Ah.
He never mentioned you.
Mm.
Why doesn't that surprise me?
Alan was very private
about that side of things.
He didn't even admit he was gay
till we'd been together
a couple of years.
How did you meet?
Internet.
There's a website I used.
Rent boys.
I charged three hundred quid an hour.
I hope that doesn't shock you.
Not at all.
He was still married at the time.
I was just a commodity,
and then, you know,
one thing led to another, and
And now you get everything.
Did Khan tell you that?
He mentioned that Alan was
thinking of changing his will.
Ah That's outrageous.
Whatever happened
to client confidentiality?
He didn't say anything else.
Well, why should I deny it?
Yes!
I get everything.
Do you think that's why I
pushed Alan off the tower?
To stop him signing the new will?
I suppose I could have done that.
I'll show you if you like.
Sure.
They say on a clear day
you can see as far as Norfolk.
There's nothing of
interest the entire way.
You don't like living here?
Darling,
I'm selling the moment I get probate.
I can't wait to get out.
Who lives there?
Jack White.
He's a property developer.
Alan hated him.
Why?
He needed a reason?
I don't know.
Alan just took against him.
Access. Hedges.
They used to fight for
right of way on the drive.
This is where he was found.
Yeah.
He often came up here.
He liked the view.
It is a very low wall.
Too low.
There you are, you see.
- Easy to lose your balance.
- Mm.
Lucky I'm here.
I'm sorry to disappoint you,
but I couldn't have
pushed Alan off the tower.
I wasn't on the premises.
- Where were you?
- London.
I was going out of
my mind stuck here.
We were spending
more and more time apart
until we decided
He decided
it was better not
to be together at all.
Alan put you in his books.
Nice of you to notice.
Yes.
I'm James Fraser, the thick assistant.
He did that to everyone,
and not in a nice way.
He liked to play with people.
Actually, that's how it was for him.
Writing. It was all a game.
Have you read "Magpie Murders"?
He never let me read
anything until he finished.
Had he finished?
Yeah, I saw a finished manuscript.
It's missing the last chapter.
Really?
The last chapter of a whodunit?
I can see why that might be a problem.
- That's why I'm here.
- Well,
if it was anywhere,
this is where it'll be.
Do you know the
password to his computer?
"Cat up nudist". One word.
It's an anagram of Atticus Pünd.
Alan loved anagrams.
- That's funny.
- What?
This is where he kept his notebooks,
but they don't seem to be here.
Has anyone else been in the room?
Only the police.
You know he only wrote
his first drafts by hand.
- Yeah.
- He liked expensive pens.
They're gone.
- The pens?
- No, the notes.
Yeah, there's nothing on here either.
No files, nothing.
Maybe you should talk to Claire.
Claire Jenkins, his sister.
She used to help him
with the manuscripts -
typing, photocopying.
Not sure she did anything
on "magpie", though.
They had a falling out.
God.
Was there anyone
Alan didn't argue with?
No.
And if someone really did
push him off that tower, well,
put it this way,
there'd have been plenty of volunteers.
Hmm!
- Bye, James.
- Bye.
Mary Blakiston had it all wrong.
My husband wasn't a Saint.
In fact, his behaviour towards the servants
was actually quite scandalous.
In what way?
Well, let's just say he
had no sense of decorum.
Would you say the two of you
were happily married, Lady Pye?
I've always thought
marriage and happiness
to be mutually exclusive,
Detective Inspector.
But that's just my opinion.
Lady Pye, could you explain
why the safe in your late husband's study
should have been open?
He must have opened it.
Did anyone else know the combination?
No, it was just him.
There was also a letter
that we found on his desk.
It would seem to be
of a threatening nature.
Here.
"You won't get away with it.
"The village was here before you"
Ugh!
- This is about Dingle Dell.
- Dingle Dell?
It's part of the estate.
A wild Meadow.
Magnus had no use for it,
so he was planning to build houses.
A lot of new houses.
Of course the village
were up in arms.
He got quite a lot of these.
You have no idea who wrote them?
They didn't sign their name.
There was no-one
person in the village
that was vocal in their
opposition to this scheme?
Actually, there was.
You should talk to his twin sister,
Clarissa Pye.
- Yes?
- Miss Pye?
Yes?
My name is, um, Atticus Pünd.
I wonder if we might have a word?
Well, you better come in.
Dingle Dell is a much-loved
part of the village, Mr. Pünd.
A precious resource.
Wild flowers, butterflies,
wonderful birdlife.
To build houses on it
would be an act of vandalism,
and I told Magnus that
in no uncertain terms.
Did you write to him, miss Pye?
I had no need to write.
I told him to his face.
It must been strange
being on opposing sides,
as it were, brother and sister.
Twin brother and sister.
Had I been born just
five minutes earlier,
there would be no argument.
Why is that?
Because Pye Hall and all the land,
including Dingle Dell,
would have been mine!
Cake?
Yeah.
Thank you.
- Hello.
- Hello.
Excuse me,
could you tell me something?
- Does this Meadow have a name?
- I'm sorry?
- It's not called Dingle Dell?
- No.
I don't think it's called anything.
It's a lovely place, don't you think?
- Very peaceful.
- Yes, it is.
- Enjoy it.
- Thank you.
Yes?
- Are you Claire Jenkins?
- Yes.
My name's Susan Ryeland.
I wonder if I might have a word?
Thank you.
I can't help you, I'm afraid.
I helped Alan with all eight
of the Atticus Pünd novels.
I typed them for him.
I did the proof-reading,
the binding and the copying.
But then he decided he
didn't need me anymore.
Why was that?
I prefer not to talk about it.
So you never saw "Magpie Murders"?
No.
Did you know that he
based a character on you?
No.
What character would that be?
Um, the sister of sir Magnus Pye,
the man who gets murdered.
Doesn't surprise me at all, really.
He could be quite cruel.
What makes you think
that the portrait
wasn't a flattering one?
Just assumed.
Have you read it?
- Yes.
- And?
Well
Well, it it's
It's humorous.
I suppose that depends
on your sense of humour.
I'm sure he didn't mean
anything by it, Claire.
Although it does make me wonder
how close the two of you were.
You know,
the fact that he didn't show it to you.
We were close once.
But then?
After Alan became famous as a writer
It was as if I didn't
really know him anymore.
I thought success
would make him happy.
It was what he'd always wanted.
But
Do you know why he killed himself?
Do you know why he
jumped off that tower?
It wasn't because he was sick.
It was Atticus Pünd.
What do you mean?
Atticus Pünd was never
the book he wanted to write.
All that money, all that success.
The simple truth is
It drove him mad.
Miss Ryeland!
Detective Superintendent Locke,
you can call me Susan.
Can I ask what you're doing here?
Can I ask if I need to tell you?
I've asked you a simple question, "Susan",
and I've asked it nicely.
Now,
if I feel you're obstructing an officer
in the performance of his duty,
we can do this down at the station.
So, you're investigating Alan's death?
I didn't say that.
I'm trying to track down some
missing pages from his last book
because without them I can't publish,
and if that happens,
my entire company,
the staff I employ and
fifteen years' hard work
will all go down the drain.
That's why I'm here.
You were visiting Claire Jenkins.
Yes,
because she used to be his secretary.
She did all his typing for him.
I thought she might have a copy.
- How about you?
- Sorry?
If you're so sure Alan committed suicide,
why are you still investigating?
I'm not.
I'm here because
miss Jenkins used to work
at Ipswich constabulary.
She was a police officer?
She was married to a police officer.
She used to work in HR.
Did you ever meet Alan Conway?
Yes.
You never mentioned that in London.
Locke and Chubb.
That's you, isn't it?
In three of the books.
He based a character on you.
The dim detective.
That's why you're so angry.
Now, you listen to me, miss Ryeland.
I'm here because Claire's on her own,
and she just lost her brother
in the worst circumstances,
all right?
Did you tell her of your suspicions?
That Conway didn't write that letter
or that someone
forced him to write it?
- No.
- Well, I'm glad to hear it.
Because this is the real world,
and I don't need some fancy
Editor from London
poncing around pretending to
be some sort of private detective!
Now, you find your chapter
if that's really what you're here for,
but once you've done that
You stay out of my way.
He was just so aggressive.
'Why did you let him get to you?'
'well, because he did.'
- do you want me to come up?
- 'Yes.'
- no, no. You can't.
- 'I'll tell them I'm sick.'
no, no, Andreas.
'I'm not going to be
staying much longer.
'There's nothing for me to do.'
- you didn't find the chapter.
- 'No. Nothing.'
I'm missing you.
You've only been gone a day.
Locke hates me
because I published Alan.
'Alan turned him into a
character or a caricature.'
and you know what's odd?
He seems to have hated
being a successful writer.
'He treated it like some
kind of unpleasant joke.'
it made him rich.
It didn't make him happy.
Sue!
- Supper!
- OK. Coming.
That's Katie, so, um
I better go in.
'How is she?'
ooh, same as ever.
- 'I'll see you tomorrow.'
- Give her my love.
- 'I will. Bye.'
- Bye.
'Bye.'
she doesn't know.
- No.
- You should tell her.
I can't.
You will forgive me
for saying, Mr. Patakis,
that Alan Conway's death
could not have been more timely,
where you were concerned.
- I was lucky.
- Hmm.
Here you go.
Cheque's in there.
Thank you.
Hey, got time for a quick one, vicar?
No, thank you.
Must get back to my sermon.
Here you are.
Mm, thank you, James.
Thank you.
Oop. Cheers.
Prost!
So
How long do you think
we'll be staying here for?
Your room is not to your liking?
Well, the bed's a bit lumpy,
and as for the plumbing
- You have no hot water?
- Oh, I have some hot water,
just not enough.
I suppose I shouldn't complain.
It's nice to be out of London.
I'm surprised you
haven't let miss Sanderling
- know you're here.
- Ah, yes, miss Sanderling,
who first drew my
attention to Saxby-on-Avon.
I have to ask myself, James,
if I had agreed to her request,
might it have been possible
to prevent the death of sir Magnus Pye?
So you do think the two are connected?
It's self-evident.
On the face of it,
three crimes may have
taken place at Pye Hall,
one after the other.
Three?
First, Mary Blakiston is
threatened by her son, Robert.
Next day, she's found dead
at the bottom of a flight of stairs.
Do you think someone gave her a push?
Inspector Chubb is of the
opinion it was an accident.
But she may have been
killed by Robert Blakiston.
That is what the village believes,
and then, almost immediately
after she's laid to rest,
there's a burglary.
A collection of ancient
Roman silver is taken.
Quite a coincidence.
You know my views on coincidence.
Mm.
And then, having returned home
and discovered that
he's been burgled,
sir Magnus Pye is decapitated.
Well, he doesn't seem to
have been short of enemies.
There's that Dingle Dell business
and, uh,
his wife didn't seem too keen on him.
Is it not strange how evil
can find its roots so easily
in an English village?
A place of beauty and tranquillity
And yet here it is.
I see it, as it were,
converging from all sides,
and then at the end, when it
can no longer be contained,
violence and death.
How did you get on?
I went to Abbey Grange.
Did you ever see it?
No,
he never invited me to his home.
Oh, god!
All those royalties.
He certainly put them to good use.
Abbey Grange,
that's a Sherlock Holmes short story.
Yeah, he renamed it.
I think he wanted to be
more like Conan Doyle.
- Uh, loved.
- Revered.
This morning, you
said he was miserable.
That didn't stop him having a
high opinion of himself, though.
Well, anyway, you knew him before me.
What was he like?
Well, as a teacher,
I never used to see him that much.
The kids didn't like him.
- Because?
- Well, he was strict.
Yeah,
Andreas didn't like him much either.
You haven't said
anything about Andreas.
- How is he?
- He's fine.
Was that it?
He's fine!
How long have you
two been together now?
Oh eugh!
We're not together.
Well, not exactly.
I mean, we're, we're, we're, we're
Loosely connected.
- You know that's not true.
- We don't even live together!
Well,
that's only cos you won't let him.
It's easier for him.
The school gives him accommodation,
and, anyway, I'm miles away, so
I swear I've never understood you, Susan.
I don't know why you
can't just commit yourself.
Why would I want to?
Because it might make you happier.
I am happy!
Andreas is thinking
about going back to crete.
- Since when?
- He's fed up teaching.
He's thinking of buying
a hotel with his cousin.
Well, you haven't
mentioned this before.
- He only told me the other day.
- What about you?
He wants me to go with him.
Well, you might enjoy Crete.
Don't be ridiculous, Katie!
What would I do in Crete?
I've got a job.
Actually, we've got new investors,
- and they want me to be CEO.
- You told me.
In your last email.
You only ever talk about work,
never about yourself.
That is about myself!
I saw dad last week.
He was asking about you.
That's nice.
He wants to see you.
- Did he say that?
- Mm.
He's not well, Sue.
He's already had an aneurysm.
That could lead to a stroke.
Katie, please.
I don't want to see him.
I'm sorry, but I don't.
Well, let's eat!
What do you want?
To speak to you.
You're not really here.
Go away.
There are three possibilities,
and only three possibilities,
that you have to consider.
The first is that Alan Conway slipped
and accidentally fell to his death.
But if that were the case,
how do you explain that his
computer had been emptied
and his notebooks were gone?
There was, to be sure,
another party involved.
Suicide, then.
But alone and at night,
without first drinking alcohol,
and when he had
sleeping pills at hand?
There was a letter.
You were told that it
was a suicide letter,
and that is how you read it.
Perhaps you should read it again.
But if it wasn't an accident,
and it wasn't suicide
He argued with his neighbour.
He was about to change his will.
He insulted his sister.
He left his wife for a young man.
Everyone who read
Alan Conway loved him.
Everyone who met him did not.
- So
- Just three possibilities.
Consider the third.
Well, don't change the sheets.
I'll be back
If you'll have me.
Of course.
Come here. Bye-bye.
'There are three possibilities
'and only three possibilities.'
'It's a suicide note.'
'Mr. Conway had terminal cancer.'
'It's Atticus Pünd. Drove him mad.'
'If someone really
did push him off that tower,
'there would have been
plenty of volunteers.'
'Everyone who
read Alan Conway loved him.
'Everyone who met him did not.'
'There was a letter.'
'You should read it again.'
Ah!
- He was murdered.
- What?
Uh, Alan Conway.
I've re-read the letter.
- Susan, I
- No. Look, look, look.
"By the time you read this,
it will all be finished.
"I have achieved great success
"in a life that has
gone on long enough."
Yes, he's telling me he's
decided to kill himself.
No! No, no, no!
No! No!
The book is finished.
It's his last book because he's dying.
He knows that,
but he's accepted it.
That's all he's saying.
Well, that's one interpretation.
It's the only possibility.
No, what about this section here?
Look.
"I have left you some notes
with regard to my condition
"and to the decision I have made."
He had cancer.
Maybe the decision was
not to have treatment.
He didn't need to kill himself.
He was dead anyway.
So
So, somebody killed him.
And don't you see?
It's his last novel,
and everyone he knew was in it.
And that's why the
last chapter was taken.
Because it reveals the secret.
The answer's in the book.