The Mrs Bradley Mysteries (1998) s01e05 Episode Script
The Worsted Viper
George's daughter, Cecily.
I once made the mistake of asking him what she was like.
Twenty minutes of parental pride later, I had a fairly good idea.
Pretty as a picture, bright as a button, sweet as sugar.
I do so hope he was exaggerating.
(CAR HORN HONKING) Hello, Dad.
You're looking well.
Must be the sea air.
-This is her, madam.
My little Cecily.
-Pleased to meet you, Mrs Bradley.
You're even more glamorous than he said.
Charming girl.
I'm here for Inspector Christmas's celebration.
-Yes, madam.
They're inside.
-And you are? Ronald Quincy.
Under-manager.
And my fiance.
Your what? Excuse me.
You might have told me.
MAN: Oi! Oi! As many of you know, Inspector Christmas served in the army with great distinction, then went on to a second career with the police force.
We're proud that he's chosen our community for his impending retirement.
Yesterday he was in London receiving his MBE, today we bestow our highest honour, the freedom of Porth Carrack.
And now a surprise.
To make the presentation, they've managed to persuade the lady the inspector says served as his inspiration, Mrs Adela Bradley.
Well, what an honour, Mrs Bradley, and what a week.
Marred by just one thing.
Midnight last night, I was burgled.
Two hens from my own backyard.
Goes to show, sometimes the long arm of the law is not quite long enough.
(ALL LAUGHING) -Daddy, quick.
-Temperance, what is it? -Do you know her? -Yes, my daughter.
Well, here's a tragic kettle of fish.
VICAR: Why? And why cut off her lovely hair? We'll find whoever did this, I promise.
I understand Chastity worked at Quincy's Hotel.
As a waitress, yes.
She wasn't due at work until 1 :00, madam.
And I was away last night, visiting with my sister.
-Temperance came with me.
-MRS BRADLEY: And your wife? She died bringing Temperance into the world.
Well, it wasn't robbery, madam.
She's still wearing this.
-Still fancy yourself as a detective? -Just trying to help, sir.
The watch stopped at 1 2:00, when she hit the water, I'd say, giving us probable time of death.
CHRISTMAS: Yes, judging by the condition of the body.
This isn't a rope, it's some sort of woollen snake.
A worsted viper.
This reminds me of my first investigation.
The case of Black Jack Briggs and Beelzebub's Virgin.
Cutting off the victim's hair is all part of the ritual.
Black Jack was hanged, but if I'm right, if someone is reviving the cult, there'll be something inside the viper's mouth.
Well, I never Chastity's engagement ring.
I could stay, if it would help.
I was just about to ask.
Thank you.
What a bizarre story.
MRS BRADLEY: One man's mumbo-jumbo is another man's faith, Inspector.
Nice to have a lady of calibre staying.
We only wish it were under happier circumstances, don't we, Ronald? Certainly do, Mother.
What sort of a girl was she, Mrs Quincy? Nice as pie and talented.
She painted those.
MRS BRADLEY: How well do you know your guests? Well enough.
This is a respectable hotel.
-Is it? Oh, well.
-I beg your pardon? Respectability, highly overrated.
I've arranged lodgings for your chauffeur opposite the abattoir.
My chauffeur, as I understand it, is shortly to become a member of your family.
That's as maybe.
Staff stay in lodgings, usually.
George stays where I stay, invariably.
Oh, how do you do? Much obliged.
Well, just a week to go till the big day, so I suppose it's congratulations all round.
I suppose so.
Ronald, you're doing it again.
-They've all got alibis.
Cast iron.
-MRS QUINCY: Naturally.
And before you ask, Ronald and I were working till well past midnight, -then we had sardines on toast -And played cribbage.
Quite the giddy whirl.
How will Cecily cope? Compliments of Inspector Christmas, ma'am.
How very dear.
You hate carnations.
I love a splash of colour and it's the thought that counts.
Chastity gave me this to post yesterday.
I didn't get round to it.
''Miss Behaviour, Porth Carrack Gazette.
'' Who's that then, some sort of advice columnist? -Yes.
-''Dear Miss Behaviour, my dilemma is, ''what if you discover your employer's up to no good? ''Do you speak out, even if it means risking your job?'' Signed.
''In two minds.
'' Do you know what she meant? Not a clue, madam.
Was anything different about her lately? No.
Although she did seem a bit better off.
Said she'd been left a few bob and I did hear her arguing with her fiance yesterday.
-What's he like? -Jake? Well, he's no angel, but he's no murderer.
-He wouldn't harm a fly.
-And where can we find him? He lives above the Potted Lobster with his brother and his sister-in-law.
Having a lie-in, Jake? I've not been well.
I'm afraid we've got some rather bad news.
MRS BRADLEY: Tell us about this argument.
Chastity accused me of seeing another woman.
And were you? There is no other woman.
I'm engaged to be married.
Or was.
(GLASS BREAKING) What's he looking for? Just routine.
Make yourself useful.
Try upstairs.
Why weren't you out fishing last night? -Food poisoning.
I stayed in bed.
-All night and all day? Went out for some air about 1 1 :00 till 1 2:30.
Anyone see you? -No.
-Pity.
(STAMMERING) Are you suggesting my brother murdered his own fiancee? No, Lester, I'm saying it's a shame no one saw him, that's all.
I just heard.
I was at the hairdressers'.
I'm so sorry.
This is Mrs Bradley.
She's helping police.
My sister-in-law, Delilah.
Might I ask where you and your husband were last night, around midnight? I was asleep and Lester was manning the lighthouse.
-I thought you both ran the pub.
-LESTER: We do.
I go over to the lighthouse after closing time, spend the night there.
-When do you sleep? -From dawn till we open up dinnertime.
He loves to keep busy.
Somebody's got to pay for your hairdos.
-What have you done now? -It's the style, you rude lummock.
-Where's the key to the cellar, sir? -I'm not sure.
Whose is the back room? Mine.
Why? I just found this under the bed.
Oh, my Lord.
Chastity's hair.
Jake Hicks, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.
-No need for you to come, Lester.
-(STAMMERING) He's family, I'm going.
I'll see you back at the hotel, madam.
If a picture's worth a thousand words, a look can be worth even more.
As my hairdresser, Mr Gervais of Mayfair, says, ''Same old coiffure, husband secure.
New style of hair, husband beware.
'' Jake didn't do it.
He's having an affair with his brother's wife, and I'll wager there was an assignation last night.
Madam? The question is, what's he hiding in the cellar? Marriage can be hard work, especially with your husband away every night.
I've no idea what you're talking about.
Is this how you keep yourself busy, making wedding dresses? This one's for your chauffeur's daughter.
I just hope she doesn't meet a pig on her way back from her wedding.
-I beg your pardon? -It's bad luck, see.
Happened to me.
Explains everything.
Make no mistake, Mrs Hicks, either the truth comes out or Jake hangs for murder.
You and he were together last night.
Yes, on the beach.
We always said if anyone suspected, we'd just deny it.
-You're Jake's only alibi.
-GEORGE: Not necessarily.
No wonder he didn't want people looking in the cellar.
Plymouth Rocks.
Beauties, aren't they? I believe you said they were stolen at midnight, sir.
Yes, the squawking woke me.
I ran out, but they'd gone.
-You're sure it was Jake? -Positive.
Daft ha'p'orth.
Why risk trial for murder rather than own up to pinching poultry? Stalling for time.
He didn't want his affair with Delilah to come out.
I take it you'll be releasing him? Well, I will if you can tell me what Chastity's hair was doing under his bed.
Simple enough, sir.
Someone tried to frame him.
That's for Chastity, when they let me have her back.
Post-mortems take time, sir.
I'm sorry.
Hello.
That's beautiful handwriting.
It's called copperplate.
-Is it a story? -About Chastity going to Heaven.
You should frame it, hang it up at home.
Perhaps.
People think I'm sad, but I'm not because she'll be with mummy soon.
-Daddy says so.
-Well, he should know.
I'm afraid my belief in God is roughly on a par with my belief in the tooth fairy.
Still, at times like this, even I can see that faith has a place.
So, if Jake Hick's in the clear, you're none the wiser.
And you still think my daughter's death is to do with the revival of some sort of cult? Yes.
It was led by Black Jack Briggs.
He murdered three young women, all ritually sacrificed.
He said was re-enacting something called The Legend of Beelzebub's Virgin.
Which was? A secret he took with him to the gallows.
Good riddance if you ask me.
People who believe all that hocus-pocus, they're barking mad.
Is there any history of any such cult in this part of the world? Oh, there was something in the parish records, centuries ago.
-Some pagan ritual.
-May I see it? The records? Well, they're in Latin.
Ne sollicitus.
sis perficiam.
What was that? Don't worry, I'll manage.
Hello, Dad.
-Go on, ask him.
-You ask him, he's your father.
Dad, we're a bit short-staffed, and Ronald was wondering if you might help out in the dining room.
Me? Serve people their dinner? Actually, we call it luncheon.
If Mrs Bradley wouldn't mind.
Not at all.
He's all yours.
1 1 :30, then.
Cheerio.
I once worked as a waiter, madam.
I vowed never again.
Ah, but that was before it gave you the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop.
-Everything all right? -No.
She's got a one-armed man at table four.
-It's bad luck, isn't it? -GEORGE: Oh, yes.
-Poor chap.
-No, her, it's an omen.
-You should read this.
-''Omens and Superstitions''.
Thanks very much.
(BOTH EXCLAIMING) Beg your pardon.
Do you know, you look a different man out of your chauffeur's uniform.
Must get on, customers waiting.
I'm off tonight.
Have you got time for a chat? -What about? -I'm getting married.
-Or hadn't you noticed? -Oh, yeah, right.
Of course.
Ah, there, madam.
Lamb cutlets.
Thank you, George.
I ordered the fish.
Lamb will do.
-Isn't the Inspector joining you? -He's following-up another lead.
-A smugglers' ring, I believe.
-Oh, what a shame.
-Any useful kitchen gossip? -Yes, madam.
If you hold onions underwater while you're peeling them, they don't make you cry.
Not a dicky-bird.
I take it these are the parish records.
Yes, nothing so far, but then I'm only up to the 1 5th century.
What's the matter? It's Inspector Christmas, he's been attacked down on the beach.
We've had reports of smugglers.
Someone crept up, gave me a crack on the head, knocked me out cold.
That's enough.
We've got to find this lunatic before he attacks someone else.
You're going nowhere but home.
Will you be all right? Then you are coming with me.
Madam.
GEORGE: Cognac, madam.
Looks like he was heading for that old fisherman's cabin.
A worsted viper and a pentagram.
''Ad Hoc Ducere.
'' I think we can safely assume that this is the strangler's lair.
You'd better stay and keep watch, Constable.
On me own? Try and be a brave boy.
I'll have some food sent up to the suite this evening and we'll go over the parish records.
Actually, I was hoping to see Cecily tonight, madam.
She's after some advice on marriage and suchlike.
Suchlike? I've never heard it called that before.
Good luck.
Little children, headache.
Big children, heartache.
Or so the saying goes.
There are three golden rules for bringing up children.
Alas, nobody knows what they are.
This is Mrs Bradley.
Someone appears to have been in my room.
Thank you.
-He could do with some bacon.
-Bacon? It's a cure for baldness, but only if it's stolen.
Not you as well.
Dung placed round a house will bring good luck.
Not to mention flies.
I heard one.
If a bride spills a single drop of blood on her wedding dress, -she'll be dead by Christmas.
-Believe that, you'll believe anything.
-Dad.
-Hmm? What do you make of Ronald? -Nice enough.
-Dad.
Well, he's a bit What's the word? Alembicated for my liking.
-Alembicated? -Stuck-up, la-di-da.
Hark who's talking.
There's a difference between affectation and education.
I know he's not everyone's cup of tea, but he's a good man, Dad.
And I love him.
Here you go.
All you need to know regarding wedding, night of.
-''Wedded Bliss.
by Adela Bradley.
'' -And if you need any more, I suggest you write to Miss Behaviour at the newspaper.
Already have.
''Dear Miss Behaviour, I'm soon to be married ''and worried about first-night nerves.
'' That'll do.
I'm your dad, not your doctor.
If you love him, well and good.
But remember, you get what you settle for.
-And you got mum.
-She wasn't so bad, till she got ideas.
Is she coming to the wedding? I wouldn't know where to send the invitation.
So what about you, anyone special? Or have you got your hands full with Mrs Bradley? -Meaning what? -Nothing.
Come on, I'll race you.
Must be a mistake.
We've got our supper.
-You're feeling better, then, sir? -Yes.
We were discussing who tore out half the parish records and why.
-Someone broke in? -Don't worry, I'm fine.
But Ronald Quincy's passkey is missing.
Somewhat disturbing with a murderer on the loose.
Which is why, George, I suggest you bolt your door tonight.
I'll bear that in mind, sir.
Good night.
(CHRISTMAS AND MRS BRADLEY LAUGHING) After a new job, are we? No, Mrs Quincy, just a spot of supper.
Call me Myrtle.
Sounds like a village in Suffolk, your name.
Welcome to Myrtle Quincy.
I do like a sense of humour.
Why don't I join you? I'll see if I can find a bottle of something special from my husband's cellar.
Oh, your husband? I'm not sure he'd approve.
Funny man, he's six feet under.
Has been ten year.
Everything all right with your plumbing? Beg your pardon? Gentleman in the next room says his pipes are blocked.
Are yours in working order? Far as I know.
Good-o.
Back in a jiffy.
Whoever stole the parish records must be involved with Chastity's murder and trying to hide something in the past.
But why tear out the pages, why not take the whole volume? Too big.
You'd be spotted.
I've put a 24-hour watch on the beach.
Nothing so far.
I'm convinced we're dealing with a disciple of Black Jack Briggs.
-Did he have family, friends? -There was a brother, I believe, and I think his mother died shortly after he was hanged.
But I can't remember.
It was all such a long time ago.
You must have been a babe in arms.
I do believe you're flirting with me, Inspector.
Why don't you call me Henry? I don't recall ordering that.
Just going over the wedding plans, madam.
When you've finished, perhaps one of you would be kind enough to remove the snake.
-Snake? -In my hotel? Never.
(MYRTLE SCREAMING) Whisky, Henry? I apologise again.
I've never been very fond of snakes.
I won't breathe a word.
The snake's all taken care of, madam.
I'm so sorry.
I can only assume it was someone's attempt at a practical joke.
No, Mrs Quincy, it was someone's attempt to scare me and stop me investigating the murder.
Whoever it was is no match for a team like you and me, Mrs Bradley.
-Madam.
-Just a minute, George.
-We'll get him.
-I hope you're right, Henry.
-Good night.
-Good night.
Madam.
I'll see you out, Inspector.
You were saying? There was a light out at sea from a boat.
Morse code.
-Why didn't you tell me earlier? -I tried.
-Nothing there now.
What did it say? -''2200, the cabin.
'' My bet is it's smugglers planning a rendezvous.
Possibly.
It's midnight now, so they must mean tomorrow.
The question is who was the message for? One for the team, madam.
You and Henry.
And you, George.
Good night.
In case you were wondering, madam, we were only Wondering? About what? Nothing, madam.
It was perfectly What you do in your own time is your own affair.
Well, all that remains is to thank you all for coming.
Please, help yourselves.
That was a very moving service, Vicar.
You did your daughter proud.
Thank you.
What's going on? Bound to get out sooner or later.
The results of the post-mortem.
Chastity Baines was expecting a baby.
Excuse me.
Constable.
Have you no sense of discretion? I just wanted to pay my respects.
What do you know about respect? You defiled my daughter.
If you know what's good for you, stay out of my way.
I know what you're all thinking about my daughter.
Well, ''He that is without sin among you, ''let him first cast a stone at her.
'' You did frame it.
How lovely! -And what a wonderful crab.
-I caught it.
-Will you catch one for me? -I'll try.
And more paintings by Chastity.
I took the liberty of nipping upstairs to search her room, madam.
She seems to have had another admirer, if that's the word.
''If lust is a sin, I am damned by my desire for you.
'' Anything I should know? An anonymous note, written on a typewriter with no ''E''.
And an entry in Chastity's diary the day she died.
-''1 1 :00 pm.
L.
H.
'' -L.
H.
? Lester Hicks.
So, how many other people do you know with the initials L.
H.
? (STAMMERING) I've told you, I didn't write that note.
Then you won't mind if we take some fingerprints from this and check that the letter E's working properly, will you? All right, so I had a soft spot for Chastity.
There's no harm in that.
Did you tell your brother's fiancee about this soft spot? Or merely write her unpleasant letters? -I've never been good with the ladies.
-Where were you the night she died? (STAMMERING) Manning the lighthouse.
Terrible stammer the poor boy has.
I should imagine the reasons for it stem from his childhood, -and if he is involved in the cult -Why didn't the inspector arrest him? For writing a letter? The rest is circumstantial.
I beg your pardon, I thought you'd be finished.
I'll wait outside.
Oh, no, no.
Do join me.
You missed your vocation, George.
You're getting good at this.
Praise indeed, sir.
I took the opportunity to root around in Chastity's locker.
I found this.
?1 00.
Must be the legacy your daughter mentioned.
But the vicar said there was no legacy.
So, where did Chastity get this? Another piece of the puzzle.
An hour to go.
Oh, I told the inspector about the Morse code, George.
-He's coming with us.
-Very good, madam.
I'll get the car.
You clicked? I'll have a glass of port, while we wait.
MRS BRADLEY: I thought you liked whisky.
Picked up the port habit in the army.
Regimental dinners and all that.
I imagine you look very well in uniform.
Would you like a taste? Mrs Quincy says she might just offer you a part-time job.
And I might just take it.
Hold still, you're under arrest! (BOTTLES CLINKING) Oh, no, you don't! (GRUNTING) Sorry, sir.
Oh, well, a bird in the hand, as they say.
Dressmaking and smuggling.
Quite the little busy bee, aren't we? I just wanted some money to get away.
-Who was on the motorcycle? -No idea.
-My bet is it's your brother-in-law.
-Jake's out on the boats.
You can check.
And we will.
Tell me, would you know how to send an SOS in Morse code? No, I wouldn't.
Why? Now, listen to me.
This is my final case.
My reputation hangs on this.
I'm not bothered about tuppenny-ha'penny smugglers.
I want whoever murdered Chastity Baines.
And if you or your pal are mixed up in it -We're not.
-Then tell me who was on the motorcycle or I'll tell Lester you're cuckolding him with his own brother.
Go to hell.
Come on, Delilah, confession's good for the soul.
Don't do this, please.
Lester? (WHISTLE BLOWING) I didn't hear a thing.
I just turned round and there he was, right behind me.
-Wearing a robe and a hood? -(STAMMERING) Knocked me out cold.
Next thing I know, I'm coming round on the beach, that thing round me neck like a noose.
I've said some prayers in my time, but never like last night.
I assumed it was women the strangler was after.
Indeed.
RONALD: If he's not gonna be here on Tuesday In which case, why would he try and kill Lester? Sorry, madam, I'll get your key.
(TAPPING) Do you know what this is, Mr Quincy? SOS.
Spot on.
Tell me, what use would a hotel under-manager have for Morse code? I think you owe George an apology.
-That was quite a punch last night.
-What punch? Chastity found out about your little smuggling sideline, didn't she? We're not interested in cognac, we're after a killer.
It was dawn, a few weeks ago.
Chastity was on the beach doing one of her paintings.
I didn't see her, but she saw me bringing the booze in from the boat.
-And threatened to tell the police? -No.
I don't know.
Where were you on the night she died? Here, playing cards with Mother, then I went to bed.
And that's your alibi, is it? Postpone the wedding? Just to be on the safe side, till everything's done and dusted.
Everything is done and dusted.
I'm picking up my wedding dress this afternoon, and this time next week I'll be Mrs Ronald Quincy.
-I'm just saying.
-I know what you're saying.
The man I love might be a murderer.
Well, if you think that you needn't worry about the wedding, -'cause you're not welcome.
-Cecily.
Um, the Inspector has just found these.
Some sort of ceremonial robes on the edge of the cliff.
-CHRISTMAS: What a way to go.
-Not necessarily.
The strangler could have faked his suicide in order to throw us off the scent.
Just as Lester Hicks could have staged the attack on himself.
Possible, I suppose.
But there is someone else we haven't considered.
Chastity's own father.
As you once wrote, Mrs Bradley, like charity, murder often begins at home.
Indeed.
In which case, it might be worth my while paying the Reverend Baines' sister a visit.
See if his alibi holds up.
And we will invite ourselves to tea at the vicarage.
I'm glad you came.
You can advise me on what to do about being burgled.
-Oh, when? -The day of Chastity's funeral.
The odd thing is, they just took some of my correspondence.
-Anything important? -Well, yes and no.
Have you heard of Miss Behaviour in the Gazette? Yes.
Well, I am Miss Behaviour.
Rather an unusual sideline, sir.
Well, I like to think that I can help people, and it's a very useful way of finding out what's going on in the parish.
I hope I can rely on your discretion.
Of course.
Why would anyone steal letters for your column? No idea.
These, these are some of the printed ones.
''Dear Miss Behaviour, my wife and I have been wed six years, ''yet to this day, I remain a complete stranger to coition.
'' To who? The marriage is unconsummated.
''I fear I may die without ever knowing the pleasures of the flesh.
'' (MIMICS STAMMERING) Ah, yes, perplexed of Porth Carrack.
Lester Hicks.
No wonder he sleeps at the lighthouse.
Now hold on, madam, are we saying that he's married, but he's never had relations? -Not even once? -It's not unheard of.
A deep anxiety, a physical problem.
Whatever the reason, the poor man must be in torment.
How did you know it was Lester? Aren't the letters anonymous? The silly fool signed his.
People often slip up.
Like your daughter.
She wrote on notepaper from Quincy's Hotel.
Ah, Temperance.
She's very pleased with herself, Mrs Bradley.
She has a present for you.
Caught it herself.
Thank you very These are pages from the parish records.
Where did you find them? Well, this would explain the blocked plumbing at the hotel.
The thief must have flushed these pages away, forgetting they'd re-emerge sooner or later.
-Totally illegible.
-Is it important? Might have been.
Might have helped us find out what happened to your sister.
Why? MRS BRADLEY: She's copied out some pages of the parish records.
-To practise my copperplate.
-Lots of it, too.
Eureka! The Legend of Beelzebub's Virgin.
This may not be suitable for young ears.
Er, Temperance, some tea, I think.
Bear with me, I'm translating from the Latin.
''Exactly 200 years ago, a cult began right here in Porth Carrack.
''On the eve of her wedding, a young woman is found dead on a beach, ''shorn of her hair, strangled by a worsted viper.
''The culprit is tried, hanged.
-''A blacksmith, Mr Edmund'' -Briggs.
''Leader of a cult called the Ophidian Brotherhood.
'' Ophidian.
Something to do with snakes, madam, serpent-like.
Briggs' last words were, ''At the 1 2th hour of the virgin death, ''darkness shall hold dominion over the beacon of light.
'' ''And he predicts his execution will be avenged on the anniversary of his death, -''July 3rd.
'' -The day Chastity died.
Some lunatic strangles an innocent girl to commemorate this gobbledegook? But she wasn't innocent, was she? Not in the sense of being a virgin.
So a second virgin sacrifice has to be found.
-Lester Hicks.
-But he survived the attack.
So now the strangler now needs another victim, another virgin.
Oh, my God.
''Dear Miss Behaviour, I'm soon to be married ''and worried about first night nerves.
'' This is my Cecily.
And if the vicar guessed, so will the strangler.
It's perfect.
Thank you so much.
Ow! You left a pin in.
It's a good job we're not superstitious.
There, as good as new.
I'll just get something for you to wrap it in.
She left some time ago.
Straight back to the hotel, she said.
Hello.
What are you doing here? (SCREAMING) Right, ladies and gentlemen, she's been missing for two hours.
Before we start the search, Cecily's father would like to have a word.
Number one, thank you for helping.
Number two, it's my belief that someone here knows what's happened to my daughter.
When I find out who you are, God help you.
Shall we go? I've just heard there's been trouble down on the beach again.
Constable Sharp's been attacked.
He was on look-out duty at the cabin.
Someone knocked him out.
These marks are new.
Black crosses.
Ad Hoc Ducere.
Let this be your guide.
If we place this between the crosses, we should get a perfect fit.
A map reading, with the uppermost point indicating The church.
CHRISTMAS: Stop the car! That wasn't there yesterday.
There's something in here.
It's Cecily's hair.
Two possibilities.
One, he's taking her to the church.
Two, he'll bring her here.
Oh, well, let's just toss a coin, shall we? My money's on him bringing her here.
Why else build this pyre? No, this is a trick to throw us off the real scent.
You could say the same about the map and the church.
She's my daughter.
Very well.
You take the church.
I'll stay here.
I should have seen this coming.
I could have warned her.
It's not your fault, George.
I'm her father.
I shouldn't have been chasing about all over the place, worrying about you and the Inspector and worsted vipers.
I should have been looking after my daughter.
What do you mean, me and the Inspector? Nothing, madam.
Nobody knows what's going to happen, George, but I do know you're not to blame.
We haven't been getting on very well lately, have we? -It's not for me to say, madam.
-Well, I'm saying it.
But there are some people who happen to think we make a rather formidable team.
-Oh, yes? -Yes.
And I'm one of them.
Me too, madam.
(TWIG SNAPPING) (ANIMAL SHRIEKING) Just a fox.
GEORGE: Look.
''Ada Briggs.
1 846 to 1 900.
'' -''Beloved mother.
'' -Of Black Jack.
-The dates fit.
-And the grave's been well-tended.
Probably by one of Black Jack's disciples.
But if everything comes down to a Briggs family link, then how do we explain all this business with the Hickses and that last entry in Chastity's diary? 1 1 :00 pm.
L.
H.
Lester Hicks has to be the last person who saw her alive.
Unless L.
H.
wasn't a person, but a place.
''June 2nd, P.
L.
'' Potted Lobster.
''June 1 0th, Q.
H.
'' Quincy's Hotel.
All the places she painted.
''July 3rd, L.
H.
'' ''At the 1 2th hour of the virgin death, ''darkness shall hold dominion over the beacon of light.
'' If we're right, the clues to the church and the box on the beach were part of a wild goose chase, which the smuggling had nothing to do with.
Everything else, the strangler has planned like a military operation.
(CECILY WHIMPERING) (GASPING) Oh, Cecily, Cecily.
Don't even think of running.
I know who you are.
No one else could have stayed ahead of me every step of the way.
-Is Cecily all right? -Yes, thank God.
And who will you thank? When you go to the gallows for the murder of Chastity Baines, who will have mercy on your soul? What a battle royal this has been.
Fought with military precision, as befits a military man, isn't that so? Good of you to worry about my soul, Mrs Bradley, but I have all the salvation I need.
When you asked me if Jack Briggs had a family, you already knew the answer.
-Is that so? -He was your brother.
Not just my brother.
My hero, my guiding light.
CHRISTMAS: And the day he died.
the light went out.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
They hanged Jack on Christmas Eve.
It's a good name, Christmas, don't you think? A good alias for someone starting a new life.
Someone who thinks every day about what you did to his family.
Mother loved it here.
Heaven on Earth, she called it when we were kids.
Summer holidays, just me, Jack and her, the three of us against the world.
Why? For the Brotherhood, for our Jack.
And then you turned up, like a bad dream.
I knew you'd cause trouble.
but I didn't anticipate George making a nuisance of himself.
finding Jake's alibi.
The closer you got to the truth.
the harder I worked to keep you at bay.
I knew the results of the post-mortem long before Chastity's funeral.
All I could think was.
''Who else? Who else?'' But when Lester survived.
I was forced to find another victim.
-Hello.
-It was her destiny.
The unchallengeable will of the Ophidian Brotherhood.
Oh, stop this charade.
''Darkness shall hold dominion over the beacon of light.
'' And spare me the grandiloquent nonsense.
Who are you to call it nonsense? You said it yourself.
''One man's mumbo-jumbo is another man's faith.
'' Faith had nothing to do with it.
This was murder dressed up as ritual sacrifice in order to disguise a tawdry truth.
''At the 1 2th hour of the virgin death'' -Listen to Mrs Bradley.
-''the Ophidian Brotherhood'' I saidlisten.
Goodness knows how, but Chastity found out you were Jack Briggs' brother.
A shameful family secret, hidden for years.
She blackmailed you.
That's how she got the ?1 00.
Inspector Henry Christmas, brother of a madman, a murderer.
How would that go down at Scotland Yard? What would happen to your hard-earned reputation? No MBE, that's for sure.
Just exposure and disgrace.
Believe what you like.
It's not a question of what I believe.
I know.
What I know is my brother was ill.
He needed help, but he got the gallows.
You did that.
-My mother died of a broken heart.
-Your mother died of shame.
How dare you.
Your mother, the girls your brother killed, were all innocent victims of Jack's madness.
But you are entirely sane, and, as such, nothing but a common killer.
Seems like yesterday that Cecily was a baby Dad.
But today she's Mrs Ronald Quincy, a wife.
And what is a wife? Well, the best definition I know is a woman who stands by her man through all the trouble he wouldn't have if he hadn't got married in the first place.
(ALL LAUGHING) Cecily, Ronald, all the happiness in the world.
Ladies and gentlemen, if you'd charge your glasses with this rather fine cognac, I give you the bride and groom.
ALL: The bride and groom.
(ALL APPLAUDING) I wouldn't presume to offer advice to the happy couple, but if I did, I'd strongly advise patience, tolerance, and above all, separate bathrooms.
-Be kind to each other.
-Thank you, madam.
-Look after her.
-I promise.
And you're always welcome.
Bye, Dad.
Best be off then.
Are you all right, George? Never better.
Someone appears to have left a rose.
I believe you said you liked a splash of colour about the place.
Thank you, George.
Thank you, madam.
# I've lots on my mind # Plenty to do # But I can find # Oceans of time to spare for you # Only for you # I work quite a lot # Busy all day # But still I got # Oceans of time to spare for you # When others have an hour of two # They try and wonder what to do # But I find myself with you contented # Life seems one long grind # Nevertheless, I'll always find # Oceans and oceans and oceans of time to spare for you #
I once made the mistake of asking him what she was like.
Twenty minutes of parental pride later, I had a fairly good idea.
Pretty as a picture, bright as a button, sweet as sugar.
I do so hope he was exaggerating.
(CAR HORN HONKING) Hello, Dad.
You're looking well.
Must be the sea air.
-This is her, madam.
My little Cecily.
-Pleased to meet you, Mrs Bradley.
You're even more glamorous than he said.
Charming girl.
I'm here for Inspector Christmas's celebration.
-Yes, madam.
They're inside.
-And you are? Ronald Quincy.
Under-manager.
And my fiance.
Your what? Excuse me.
You might have told me.
MAN: Oi! Oi! As many of you know, Inspector Christmas served in the army with great distinction, then went on to a second career with the police force.
We're proud that he's chosen our community for his impending retirement.
Yesterday he was in London receiving his MBE, today we bestow our highest honour, the freedom of Porth Carrack.
And now a surprise.
To make the presentation, they've managed to persuade the lady the inspector says served as his inspiration, Mrs Adela Bradley.
Well, what an honour, Mrs Bradley, and what a week.
Marred by just one thing.
Midnight last night, I was burgled.
Two hens from my own backyard.
Goes to show, sometimes the long arm of the law is not quite long enough.
(ALL LAUGHING) -Daddy, quick.
-Temperance, what is it? -Do you know her? -Yes, my daughter.
Well, here's a tragic kettle of fish.
VICAR: Why? And why cut off her lovely hair? We'll find whoever did this, I promise.
I understand Chastity worked at Quincy's Hotel.
As a waitress, yes.
She wasn't due at work until 1 :00, madam.
And I was away last night, visiting with my sister.
-Temperance came with me.
-MRS BRADLEY: And your wife? She died bringing Temperance into the world.
Well, it wasn't robbery, madam.
She's still wearing this.
-Still fancy yourself as a detective? -Just trying to help, sir.
The watch stopped at 1 2:00, when she hit the water, I'd say, giving us probable time of death.
CHRISTMAS: Yes, judging by the condition of the body.
This isn't a rope, it's some sort of woollen snake.
A worsted viper.
This reminds me of my first investigation.
The case of Black Jack Briggs and Beelzebub's Virgin.
Cutting off the victim's hair is all part of the ritual.
Black Jack was hanged, but if I'm right, if someone is reviving the cult, there'll be something inside the viper's mouth.
Well, I never Chastity's engagement ring.
I could stay, if it would help.
I was just about to ask.
Thank you.
What a bizarre story.
MRS BRADLEY: One man's mumbo-jumbo is another man's faith, Inspector.
Nice to have a lady of calibre staying.
We only wish it were under happier circumstances, don't we, Ronald? Certainly do, Mother.
What sort of a girl was she, Mrs Quincy? Nice as pie and talented.
She painted those.
MRS BRADLEY: How well do you know your guests? Well enough.
This is a respectable hotel.
-Is it? Oh, well.
-I beg your pardon? Respectability, highly overrated.
I've arranged lodgings for your chauffeur opposite the abattoir.
My chauffeur, as I understand it, is shortly to become a member of your family.
That's as maybe.
Staff stay in lodgings, usually.
George stays where I stay, invariably.
Oh, how do you do? Much obliged.
Well, just a week to go till the big day, so I suppose it's congratulations all round.
I suppose so.
Ronald, you're doing it again.
-They've all got alibis.
Cast iron.
-MRS QUINCY: Naturally.
And before you ask, Ronald and I were working till well past midnight, -then we had sardines on toast -And played cribbage.
Quite the giddy whirl.
How will Cecily cope? Compliments of Inspector Christmas, ma'am.
How very dear.
You hate carnations.
I love a splash of colour and it's the thought that counts.
Chastity gave me this to post yesterday.
I didn't get round to it.
''Miss Behaviour, Porth Carrack Gazette.
'' Who's that then, some sort of advice columnist? -Yes.
-''Dear Miss Behaviour, my dilemma is, ''what if you discover your employer's up to no good? ''Do you speak out, even if it means risking your job?'' Signed.
''In two minds.
'' Do you know what she meant? Not a clue, madam.
Was anything different about her lately? No.
Although she did seem a bit better off.
Said she'd been left a few bob and I did hear her arguing with her fiance yesterday.
-What's he like? -Jake? Well, he's no angel, but he's no murderer.
-He wouldn't harm a fly.
-And where can we find him? He lives above the Potted Lobster with his brother and his sister-in-law.
Having a lie-in, Jake? I've not been well.
I'm afraid we've got some rather bad news.
MRS BRADLEY: Tell us about this argument.
Chastity accused me of seeing another woman.
And were you? There is no other woman.
I'm engaged to be married.
Or was.
(GLASS BREAKING) What's he looking for? Just routine.
Make yourself useful.
Try upstairs.
Why weren't you out fishing last night? -Food poisoning.
I stayed in bed.
-All night and all day? Went out for some air about 1 1 :00 till 1 2:30.
Anyone see you? -No.
-Pity.
(STAMMERING) Are you suggesting my brother murdered his own fiancee? No, Lester, I'm saying it's a shame no one saw him, that's all.
I just heard.
I was at the hairdressers'.
I'm so sorry.
This is Mrs Bradley.
She's helping police.
My sister-in-law, Delilah.
Might I ask where you and your husband were last night, around midnight? I was asleep and Lester was manning the lighthouse.
-I thought you both ran the pub.
-LESTER: We do.
I go over to the lighthouse after closing time, spend the night there.
-When do you sleep? -From dawn till we open up dinnertime.
He loves to keep busy.
Somebody's got to pay for your hairdos.
-What have you done now? -It's the style, you rude lummock.
-Where's the key to the cellar, sir? -I'm not sure.
Whose is the back room? Mine.
Why? I just found this under the bed.
Oh, my Lord.
Chastity's hair.
Jake Hicks, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.
-No need for you to come, Lester.
-(STAMMERING) He's family, I'm going.
I'll see you back at the hotel, madam.
If a picture's worth a thousand words, a look can be worth even more.
As my hairdresser, Mr Gervais of Mayfair, says, ''Same old coiffure, husband secure.
New style of hair, husband beware.
'' Jake didn't do it.
He's having an affair with his brother's wife, and I'll wager there was an assignation last night.
Madam? The question is, what's he hiding in the cellar? Marriage can be hard work, especially with your husband away every night.
I've no idea what you're talking about.
Is this how you keep yourself busy, making wedding dresses? This one's for your chauffeur's daughter.
I just hope she doesn't meet a pig on her way back from her wedding.
-I beg your pardon? -It's bad luck, see.
Happened to me.
Explains everything.
Make no mistake, Mrs Hicks, either the truth comes out or Jake hangs for murder.
You and he were together last night.
Yes, on the beach.
We always said if anyone suspected, we'd just deny it.
-You're Jake's only alibi.
-GEORGE: Not necessarily.
No wonder he didn't want people looking in the cellar.
Plymouth Rocks.
Beauties, aren't they? I believe you said they were stolen at midnight, sir.
Yes, the squawking woke me.
I ran out, but they'd gone.
-You're sure it was Jake? -Positive.
Daft ha'p'orth.
Why risk trial for murder rather than own up to pinching poultry? Stalling for time.
He didn't want his affair with Delilah to come out.
I take it you'll be releasing him? Well, I will if you can tell me what Chastity's hair was doing under his bed.
Simple enough, sir.
Someone tried to frame him.
That's for Chastity, when they let me have her back.
Post-mortems take time, sir.
I'm sorry.
Hello.
That's beautiful handwriting.
It's called copperplate.
-Is it a story? -About Chastity going to Heaven.
You should frame it, hang it up at home.
Perhaps.
People think I'm sad, but I'm not because she'll be with mummy soon.
-Daddy says so.
-Well, he should know.
I'm afraid my belief in God is roughly on a par with my belief in the tooth fairy.
Still, at times like this, even I can see that faith has a place.
So, if Jake Hick's in the clear, you're none the wiser.
And you still think my daughter's death is to do with the revival of some sort of cult? Yes.
It was led by Black Jack Briggs.
He murdered three young women, all ritually sacrificed.
He said was re-enacting something called The Legend of Beelzebub's Virgin.
Which was? A secret he took with him to the gallows.
Good riddance if you ask me.
People who believe all that hocus-pocus, they're barking mad.
Is there any history of any such cult in this part of the world? Oh, there was something in the parish records, centuries ago.
-Some pagan ritual.
-May I see it? The records? Well, they're in Latin.
Ne sollicitus.
sis perficiam.
What was that? Don't worry, I'll manage.
Hello, Dad.
-Go on, ask him.
-You ask him, he's your father.
Dad, we're a bit short-staffed, and Ronald was wondering if you might help out in the dining room.
Me? Serve people their dinner? Actually, we call it luncheon.
If Mrs Bradley wouldn't mind.
Not at all.
He's all yours.
1 1 :30, then.
Cheerio.
I once worked as a waiter, madam.
I vowed never again.
Ah, but that was before it gave you the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop.
-Everything all right? -No.
She's got a one-armed man at table four.
-It's bad luck, isn't it? -GEORGE: Oh, yes.
-Poor chap.
-No, her, it's an omen.
-You should read this.
-''Omens and Superstitions''.
Thanks very much.
(BOTH EXCLAIMING) Beg your pardon.
Do you know, you look a different man out of your chauffeur's uniform.
Must get on, customers waiting.
I'm off tonight.
Have you got time for a chat? -What about? -I'm getting married.
-Or hadn't you noticed? -Oh, yeah, right.
Of course.
Ah, there, madam.
Lamb cutlets.
Thank you, George.
I ordered the fish.
Lamb will do.
-Isn't the Inspector joining you? -He's following-up another lead.
-A smugglers' ring, I believe.
-Oh, what a shame.
-Any useful kitchen gossip? -Yes, madam.
If you hold onions underwater while you're peeling them, they don't make you cry.
Not a dicky-bird.
I take it these are the parish records.
Yes, nothing so far, but then I'm only up to the 1 5th century.
What's the matter? It's Inspector Christmas, he's been attacked down on the beach.
We've had reports of smugglers.
Someone crept up, gave me a crack on the head, knocked me out cold.
That's enough.
We've got to find this lunatic before he attacks someone else.
You're going nowhere but home.
Will you be all right? Then you are coming with me.
Madam.
GEORGE: Cognac, madam.
Looks like he was heading for that old fisherman's cabin.
A worsted viper and a pentagram.
''Ad Hoc Ducere.
'' I think we can safely assume that this is the strangler's lair.
You'd better stay and keep watch, Constable.
On me own? Try and be a brave boy.
I'll have some food sent up to the suite this evening and we'll go over the parish records.
Actually, I was hoping to see Cecily tonight, madam.
She's after some advice on marriage and suchlike.
Suchlike? I've never heard it called that before.
Good luck.
Little children, headache.
Big children, heartache.
Or so the saying goes.
There are three golden rules for bringing up children.
Alas, nobody knows what they are.
This is Mrs Bradley.
Someone appears to have been in my room.
Thank you.
-He could do with some bacon.
-Bacon? It's a cure for baldness, but only if it's stolen.
Not you as well.
Dung placed round a house will bring good luck.
Not to mention flies.
I heard one.
If a bride spills a single drop of blood on her wedding dress, -she'll be dead by Christmas.
-Believe that, you'll believe anything.
-Dad.
-Hmm? What do you make of Ronald? -Nice enough.
-Dad.
Well, he's a bit What's the word? Alembicated for my liking.
-Alembicated? -Stuck-up, la-di-da.
Hark who's talking.
There's a difference between affectation and education.
I know he's not everyone's cup of tea, but he's a good man, Dad.
And I love him.
Here you go.
All you need to know regarding wedding, night of.
-''Wedded Bliss.
by Adela Bradley.
'' -And if you need any more, I suggest you write to Miss Behaviour at the newspaper.
Already have.
''Dear Miss Behaviour, I'm soon to be married ''and worried about first-night nerves.
'' That'll do.
I'm your dad, not your doctor.
If you love him, well and good.
But remember, you get what you settle for.
-And you got mum.
-She wasn't so bad, till she got ideas.
Is she coming to the wedding? I wouldn't know where to send the invitation.
So what about you, anyone special? Or have you got your hands full with Mrs Bradley? -Meaning what? -Nothing.
Come on, I'll race you.
Must be a mistake.
We've got our supper.
-You're feeling better, then, sir? -Yes.
We were discussing who tore out half the parish records and why.
-Someone broke in? -Don't worry, I'm fine.
But Ronald Quincy's passkey is missing.
Somewhat disturbing with a murderer on the loose.
Which is why, George, I suggest you bolt your door tonight.
I'll bear that in mind, sir.
Good night.
(CHRISTMAS AND MRS BRADLEY LAUGHING) After a new job, are we? No, Mrs Quincy, just a spot of supper.
Call me Myrtle.
Sounds like a village in Suffolk, your name.
Welcome to Myrtle Quincy.
I do like a sense of humour.
Why don't I join you? I'll see if I can find a bottle of something special from my husband's cellar.
Oh, your husband? I'm not sure he'd approve.
Funny man, he's six feet under.
Has been ten year.
Everything all right with your plumbing? Beg your pardon? Gentleman in the next room says his pipes are blocked.
Are yours in working order? Far as I know.
Good-o.
Back in a jiffy.
Whoever stole the parish records must be involved with Chastity's murder and trying to hide something in the past.
But why tear out the pages, why not take the whole volume? Too big.
You'd be spotted.
I've put a 24-hour watch on the beach.
Nothing so far.
I'm convinced we're dealing with a disciple of Black Jack Briggs.
-Did he have family, friends? -There was a brother, I believe, and I think his mother died shortly after he was hanged.
But I can't remember.
It was all such a long time ago.
You must have been a babe in arms.
I do believe you're flirting with me, Inspector.
Why don't you call me Henry? I don't recall ordering that.
Just going over the wedding plans, madam.
When you've finished, perhaps one of you would be kind enough to remove the snake.
-Snake? -In my hotel? Never.
(MYRTLE SCREAMING) Whisky, Henry? I apologise again.
I've never been very fond of snakes.
I won't breathe a word.
The snake's all taken care of, madam.
I'm so sorry.
I can only assume it was someone's attempt at a practical joke.
No, Mrs Quincy, it was someone's attempt to scare me and stop me investigating the murder.
Whoever it was is no match for a team like you and me, Mrs Bradley.
-Madam.
-Just a minute, George.
-We'll get him.
-I hope you're right, Henry.
-Good night.
-Good night.
Madam.
I'll see you out, Inspector.
You were saying? There was a light out at sea from a boat.
Morse code.
-Why didn't you tell me earlier? -I tried.
-Nothing there now.
What did it say? -''2200, the cabin.
'' My bet is it's smugglers planning a rendezvous.
Possibly.
It's midnight now, so they must mean tomorrow.
The question is who was the message for? One for the team, madam.
You and Henry.
And you, George.
Good night.
In case you were wondering, madam, we were only Wondering? About what? Nothing, madam.
It was perfectly What you do in your own time is your own affair.
Well, all that remains is to thank you all for coming.
Please, help yourselves.
That was a very moving service, Vicar.
You did your daughter proud.
Thank you.
What's going on? Bound to get out sooner or later.
The results of the post-mortem.
Chastity Baines was expecting a baby.
Excuse me.
Constable.
Have you no sense of discretion? I just wanted to pay my respects.
What do you know about respect? You defiled my daughter.
If you know what's good for you, stay out of my way.
I know what you're all thinking about my daughter.
Well, ''He that is without sin among you, ''let him first cast a stone at her.
'' You did frame it.
How lovely! -And what a wonderful crab.
-I caught it.
-Will you catch one for me? -I'll try.
And more paintings by Chastity.
I took the liberty of nipping upstairs to search her room, madam.
She seems to have had another admirer, if that's the word.
''If lust is a sin, I am damned by my desire for you.
'' Anything I should know? An anonymous note, written on a typewriter with no ''E''.
And an entry in Chastity's diary the day she died.
-''1 1 :00 pm.
L.
H.
'' -L.
H.
? Lester Hicks.
So, how many other people do you know with the initials L.
H.
? (STAMMERING) I've told you, I didn't write that note.
Then you won't mind if we take some fingerprints from this and check that the letter E's working properly, will you? All right, so I had a soft spot for Chastity.
There's no harm in that.
Did you tell your brother's fiancee about this soft spot? Or merely write her unpleasant letters? -I've never been good with the ladies.
-Where were you the night she died? (STAMMERING) Manning the lighthouse.
Terrible stammer the poor boy has.
I should imagine the reasons for it stem from his childhood, -and if he is involved in the cult -Why didn't the inspector arrest him? For writing a letter? The rest is circumstantial.
I beg your pardon, I thought you'd be finished.
I'll wait outside.
Oh, no, no.
Do join me.
You missed your vocation, George.
You're getting good at this.
Praise indeed, sir.
I took the opportunity to root around in Chastity's locker.
I found this.
?1 00.
Must be the legacy your daughter mentioned.
But the vicar said there was no legacy.
So, where did Chastity get this? Another piece of the puzzle.
An hour to go.
Oh, I told the inspector about the Morse code, George.
-He's coming with us.
-Very good, madam.
I'll get the car.
You clicked? I'll have a glass of port, while we wait.
MRS BRADLEY: I thought you liked whisky.
Picked up the port habit in the army.
Regimental dinners and all that.
I imagine you look very well in uniform.
Would you like a taste? Mrs Quincy says she might just offer you a part-time job.
And I might just take it.
Hold still, you're under arrest! (BOTTLES CLINKING) Oh, no, you don't! (GRUNTING) Sorry, sir.
Oh, well, a bird in the hand, as they say.
Dressmaking and smuggling.
Quite the little busy bee, aren't we? I just wanted some money to get away.
-Who was on the motorcycle? -No idea.
-My bet is it's your brother-in-law.
-Jake's out on the boats.
You can check.
And we will.
Tell me, would you know how to send an SOS in Morse code? No, I wouldn't.
Why? Now, listen to me.
This is my final case.
My reputation hangs on this.
I'm not bothered about tuppenny-ha'penny smugglers.
I want whoever murdered Chastity Baines.
And if you or your pal are mixed up in it -We're not.
-Then tell me who was on the motorcycle or I'll tell Lester you're cuckolding him with his own brother.
Go to hell.
Come on, Delilah, confession's good for the soul.
Don't do this, please.
Lester? (WHISTLE BLOWING) I didn't hear a thing.
I just turned round and there he was, right behind me.
-Wearing a robe and a hood? -(STAMMERING) Knocked me out cold.
Next thing I know, I'm coming round on the beach, that thing round me neck like a noose.
I've said some prayers in my time, but never like last night.
I assumed it was women the strangler was after.
Indeed.
RONALD: If he's not gonna be here on Tuesday In which case, why would he try and kill Lester? Sorry, madam, I'll get your key.
(TAPPING) Do you know what this is, Mr Quincy? SOS.
Spot on.
Tell me, what use would a hotel under-manager have for Morse code? I think you owe George an apology.
-That was quite a punch last night.
-What punch? Chastity found out about your little smuggling sideline, didn't she? We're not interested in cognac, we're after a killer.
It was dawn, a few weeks ago.
Chastity was on the beach doing one of her paintings.
I didn't see her, but she saw me bringing the booze in from the boat.
-And threatened to tell the police? -No.
I don't know.
Where were you on the night she died? Here, playing cards with Mother, then I went to bed.
And that's your alibi, is it? Postpone the wedding? Just to be on the safe side, till everything's done and dusted.
Everything is done and dusted.
I'm picking up my wedding dress this afternoon, and this time next week I'll be Mrs Ronald Quincy.
-I'm just saying.
-I know what you're saying.
The man I love might be a murderer.
Well, if you think that you needn't worry about the wedding, -'cause you're not welcome.
-Cecily.
Um, the Inspector has just found these.
Some sort of ceremonial robes on the edge of the cliff.
-CHRISTMAS: What a way to go.
-Not necessarily.
The strangler could have faked his suicide in order to throw us off the scent.
Just as Lester Hicks could have staged the attack on himself.
Possible, I suppose.
But there is someone else we haven't considered.
Chastity's own father.
As you once wrote, Mrs Bradley, like charity, murder often begins at home.
Indeed.
In which case, it might be worth my while paying the Reverend Baines' sister a visit.
See if his alibi holds up.
And we will invite ourselves to tea at the vicarage.
I'm glad you came.
You can advise me on what to do about being burgled.
-Oh, when? -The day of Chastity's funeral.
The odd thing is, they just took some of my correspondence.
-Anything important? -Well, yes and no.
Have you heard of Miss Behaviour in the Gazette? Yes.
Well, I am Miss Behaviour.
Rather an unusual sideline, sir.
Well, I like to think that I can help people, and it's a very useful way of finding out what's going on in the parish.
I hope I can rely on your discretion.
Of course.
Why would anyone steal letters for your column? No idea.
These, these are some of the printed ones.
''Dear Miss Behaviour, my wife and I have been wed six years, ''yet to this day, I remain a complete stranger to coition.
'' To who? The marriage is unconsummated.
''I fear I may die without ever knowing the pleasures of the flesh.
'' (MIMICS STAMMERING) Ah, yes, perplexed of Porth Carrack.
Lester Hicks.
No wonder he sleeps at the lighthouse.
Now hold on, madam, are we saying that he's married, but he's never had relations? -Not even once? -It's not unheard of.
A deep anxiety, a physical problem.
Whatever the reason, the poor man must be in torment.
How did you know it was Lester? Aren't the letters anonymous? The silly fool signed his.
People often slip up.
Like your daughter.
She wrote on notepaper from Quincy's Hotel.
Ah, Temperance.
She's very pleased with herself, Mrs Bradley.
She has a present for you.
Caught it herself.
Thank you very These are pages from the parish records.
Where did you find them? Well, this would explain the blocked plumbing at the hotel.
The thief must have flushed these pages away, forgetting they'd re-emerge sooner or later.
-Totally illegible.
-Is it important? Might have been.
Might have helped us find out what happened to your sister.
Why? MRS BRADLEY: She's copied out some pages of the parish records.
-To practise my copperplate.
-Lots of it, too.
Eureka! The Legend of Beelzebub's Virgin.
This may not be suitable for young ears.
Er, Temperance, some tea, I think.
Bear with me, I'm translating from the Latin.
''Exactly 200 years ago, a cult began right here in Porth Carrack.
''On the eve of her wedding, a young woman is found dead on a beach, ''shorn of her hair, strangled by a worsted viper.
''The culprit is tried, hanged.
-''A blacksmith, Mr Edmund'' -Briggs.
''Leader of a cult called the Ophidian Brotherhood.
'' Ophidian.
Something to do with snakes, madam, serpent-like.
Briggs' last words were, ''At the 1 2th hour of the virgin death, ''darkness shall hold dominion over the beacon of light.
'' ''And he predicts his execution will be avenged on the anniversary of his death, -''July 3rd.
'' -The day Chastity died.
Some lunatic strangles an innocent girl to commemorate this gobbledegook? But she wasn't innocent, was she? Not in the sense of being a virgin.
So a second virgin sacrifice has to be found.
-Lester Hicks.
-But he survived the attack.
So now the strangler now needs another victim, another virgin.
Oh, my God.
''Dear Miss Behaviour, I'm soon to be married ''and worried about first night nerves.
'' This is my Cecily.
And if the vicar guessed, so will the strangler.
It's perfect.
Thank you so much.
Ow! You left a pin in.
It's a good job we're not superstitious.
There, as good as new.
I'll just get something for you to wrap it in.
She left some time ago.
Straight back to the hotel, she said.
Hello.
What are you doing here? (SCREAMING) Right, ladies and gentlemen, she's been missing for two hours.
Before we start the search, Cecily's father would like to have a word.
Number one, thank you for helping.
Number two, it's my belief that someone here knows what's happened to my daughter.
When I find out who you are, God help you.
Shall we go? I've just heard there's been trouble down on the beach again.
Constable Sharp's been attacked.
He was on look-out duty at the cabin.
Someone knocked him out.
These marks are new.
Black crosses.
Ad Hoc Ducere.
Let this be your guide.
If we place this between the crosses, we should get a perfect fit.
A map reading, with the uppermost point indicating The church.
CHRISTMAS: Stop the car! That wasn't there yesterday.
There's something in here.
It's Cecily's hair.
Two possibilities.
One, he's taking her to the church.
Two, he'll bring her here.
Oh, well, let's just toss a coin, shall we? My money's on him bringing her here.
Why else build this pyre? No, this is a trick to throw us off the real scent.
You could say the same about the map and the church.
She's my daughter.
Very well.
You take the church.
I'll stay here.
I should have seen this coming.
I could have warned her.
It's not your fault, George.
I'm her father.
I shouldn't have been chasing about all over the place, worrying about you and the Inspector and worsted vipers.
I should have been looking after my daughter.
What do you mean, me and the Inspector? Nothing, madam.
Nobody knows what's going to happen, George, but I do know you're not to blame.
We haven't been getting on very well lately, have we? -It's not for me to say, madam.
-Well, I'm saying it.
But there are some people who happen to think we make a rather formidable team.
-Oh, yes? -Yes.
And I'm one of them.
Me too, madam.
(TWIG SNAPPING) (ANIMAL SHRIEKING) Just a fox.
GEORGE: Look.
''Ada Briggs.
1 846 to 1 900.
'' -''Beloved mother.
'' -Of Black Jack.
-The dates fit.
-And the grave's been well-tended.
Probably by one of Black Jack's disciples.
But if everything comes down to a Briggs family link, then how do we explain all this business with the Hickses and that last entry in Chastity's diary? 1 1 :00 pm.
L.
H.
Lester Hicks has to be the last person who saw her alive.
Unless L.
H.
wasn't a person, but a place.
''June 2nd, P.
L.
'' Potted Lobster.
''June 1 0th, Q.
H.
'' Quincy's Hotel.
All the places she painted.
''July 3rd, L.
H.
'' ''At the 1 2th hour of the virgin death, ''darkness shall hold dominion over the beacon of light.
'' If we're right, the clues to the church and the box on the beach were part of a wild goose chase, which the smuggling had nothing to do with.
Everything else, the strangler has planned like a military operation.
(CECILY WHIMPERING) (GASPING) Oh, Cecily, Cecily.
Don't even think of running.
I know who you are.
No one else could have stayed ahead of me every step of the way.
-Is Cecily all right? -Yes, thank God.
And who will you thank? When you go to the gallows for the murder of Chastity Baines, who will have mercy on your soul? What a battle royal this has been.
Fought with military precision, as befits a military man, isn't that so? Good of you to worry about my soul, Mrs Bradley, but I have all the salvation I need.
When you asked me if Jack Briggs had a family, you already knew the answer.
-Is that so? -He was your brother.
Not just my brother.
My hero, my guiding light.
CHRISTMAS: And the day he died.
the light went out.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
They hanged Jack on Christmas Eve.
It's a good name, Christmas, don't you think? A good alias for someone starting a new life.
Someone who thinks every day about what you did to his family.
Mother loved it here.
Heaven on Earth, she called it when we were kids.
Summer holidays, just me, Jack and her, the three of us against the world.
Why? For the Brotherhood, for our Jack.
And then you turned up, like a bad dream.
I knew you'd cause trouble.
but I didn't anticipate George making a nuisance of himself.
finding Jake's alibi.
The closer you got to the truth.
the harder I worked to keep you at bay.
I knew the results of the post-mortem long before Chastity's funeral.
All I could think was.
''Who else? Who else?'' But when Lester survived.
I was forced to find another victim.
-Hello.
-It was her destiny.
The unchallengeable will of the Ophidian Brotherhood.
Oh, stop this charade.
''Darkness shall hold dominion over the beacon of light.
'' And spare me the grandiloquent nonsense.
Who are you to call it nonsense? You said it yourself.
''One man's mumbo-jumbo is another man's faith.
'' Faith had nothing to do with it.
This was murder dressed up as ritual sacrifice in order to disguise a tawdry truth.
''At the 1 2th hour of the virgin death'' -Listen to Mrs Bradley.
-''the Ophidian Brotherhood'' I saidlisten.
Goodness knows how, but Chastity found out you were Jack Briggs' brother.
A shameful family secret, hidden for years.
She blackmailed you.
That's how she got the ?1 00.
Inspector Henry Christmas, brother of a madman, a murderer.
How would that go down at Scotland Yard? What would happen to your hard-earned reputation? No MBE, that's for sure.
Just exposure and disgrace.
Believe what you like.
It's not a question of what I believe.
I know.
What I know is my brother was ill.
He needed help, but he got the gallows.
You did that.
-My mother died of a broken heart.
-Your mother died of shame.
How dare you.
Your mother, the girls your brother killed, were all innocent victims of Jack's madness.
But you are entirely sane, and, as such, nothing but a common killer.
Seems like yesterday that Cecily was a baby Dad.
But today she's Mrs Ronald Quincy, a wife.
And what is a wife? Well, the best definition I know is a woman who stands by her man through all the trouble he wouldn't have if he hadn't got married in the first place.
(ALL LAUGHING) Cecily, Ronald, all the happiness in the world.
Ladies and gentlemen, if you'd charge your glasses with this rather fine cognac, I give you the bride and groom.
ALL: The bride and groom.
(ALL APPLAUDING) I wouldn't presume to offer advice to the happy couple, but if I did, I'd strongly advise patience, tolerance, and above all, separate bathrooms.
-Be kind to each other.
-Thank you, madam.
-Look after her.
-I promise.
And you're always welcome.
Bye, Dad.
Best be off then.
Are you all right, George? Never better.
Someone appears to have left a rose.
I believe you said you liked a splash of colour about the place.
Thank you, George.
Thank you, madam.
# I've lots on my mind # Plenty to do # But I can find # Oceans of time to spare for you # Only for you # I work quite a lot # Busy all day # But still I got # Oceans of time to spare for you # When others have an hour of two # They try and wonder what to do # But I find myself with you contented # Life seems one long grind # Nevertheless, I'll always find # Oceans and oceans and oceans of time to spare for you #