Randall Hopkirk (Deceased) (1969) s01e12 Episode Script

Morning, Jeff.
Your eye looks like it's had two bottles of Scotch on its own.
Hm.
Oh! - What's the matter now? - Blade's gone.
I've told you before, buy an electric razor! How can I afford an electric razor? Maybe from the fellow who's coming up with a case.
- Mr.
Randall? - Yes? - Come in.
- Thanks.
I tried your office.
Uh, I had a late night.
Oh, I see.
You're alone? - Yes.
- Oh.
Do go ahead.
- You've had breakfast? - Yes, thanks.
Uh, my name is McAllister, James McAllister.
I'm glad I've caught you alone, Mr.
Randall, because I've a somewhat unusual profession.
People tend to be alarmed by it.
I'm a ghost hunter.
I know whenever I enter an establishment Whether there's a ghost or not? - I feel it.
- Quite a gift.
It is.
Put me near a ghost and I can tell you immediately.
He's not very good, is he, Jeff? - Uh, what can I do for you? - Yes.
Well, I have a client, Mrs.
Wentworth at Crake Castle.
You probably know her better as the much-married Kim Ryskamp, inheritor of the Ryskamp millions.
Not that her private life is any of my concern.
I'm engaged on a ghost hunt.
But I'm not convinced that there's a genuine ghost within miles of the place.
- Even though I've seen it myself.
- Now you're confusing me.
There are certain definite manifestations.
But I don't believe they're supernatural.
That is why I came to your company.
And you couldn't have done better.
I'm earning 1,500 pounds.
My proposition is simple.
We share the fee and work on the project together.
I've already written the cheque.
What are you thinking about, Jeff? Pick it up! It's 750 pounds! It's a deal, Mr.
McAllister.
But I won't be able to get down to Crake Castle until tomorrow evening.
That's in order.
I'll meet you in the castle drive tomorrow at ten? Fine.
I shall stand duty tonight alone.
- Goodbye.
- Ciao.
Dreaming.
Did you see it? Did you see it? II think so.
A horrible figure in chains.
It's the ghost of Crake Castle! I don't know, Mrs.
Wentworth, I don't know.
And tell Mr.
Maple I'll send him his report as soon as I can.
Answer this enquiry.
We're not interested.
I don't know how long I'll be, but I'll ring when I get there.
Don't worry.
I'll take care of things.
Morning.
Don't talk, she'll think you're talking to yourself.
Isn't she lovely? And so efficient, too.
She still can't spell.
There's only one "f" in "reference.
" So there's only one "f" in "reference.
" What a strange thing to say.
How can you see it from there? And I have, too.
Uh, everybody spells "reference" wrong.
Look, I must rush.
I've got to get to Crake village by this evening.
- But Jeff! - Late as it is.
Bye.
Be good.
- Don't forget his walk after tea.
- No, Uncle.
- There we are.
- Thank you.
- Oh, you know Mr.
McAllister, vicar? - No, I don't think so.
- He's new to the village, isn't he? - Yes.
Employed by Mrs.
Wentworth up at the castle.
To hunt the ghost.
Ghosts? Nonsense! It's normally the church that exorcises malevolent spirits.
Are there really ghosts? - Folk stories, superstitions.
- Let HIM talk, Uncle Oliver.
- Pot of tea, Mr.
McAllister? - Thank you.
Uh, yes, a local legend.
Yes, miss.
- Won't you join us? - If I may.
The legend goes back many hundreds of years, to the Wars of the Roses.
Passed down by word of mouth? The owner of the castle, Sir Hubert de Crake, answered the feudal call and went to fight in the north.
In the battle, Sir Hubert's side was defeated.
Word got back to the castle that Sir Hubert was dead.
- But he wasn't killed in battle? - No.
He returned to the castle, only to find that his young wife already had a new husband.
- What did he do? - He did nothing.
But his wife, preferring her new husband, threw him into a dungeon, where he languished for 20 years, and finally died.
and growing resentment.
And he's supposed to return as a ghost? Nonsense! No level-headed villager believes it, right Mrs.
Pleasance? - Well, I don't, for one.
- You see? If there had been a ghost, I would have felt the vibrations long before now.
- I'm not too happy about this job.
- Not happy? Half McAllister's fee is more than we'd get for a top job.
I know.
But it's dodgy for me, associating with ghost hunters.
Watch the road.
- You all right, Kim? - Darling, where've you been? Seeing McAllister's safely installed.
I must say, this latest idea is a bit wild, even for you.
But I suppose for a girl who has everything, a ghost hunter is a necessity.
- Larry, I'm frightened.
- Of what? It's all in your imagination.
Well, this isn't what I expect to hear from a loving husband.
Let's not go through all that again.
Anyway, I just popped in to say good night.
You're not going? I do my best work at night, you know that.
Larry, I didn't buy you a studio to keep you away at night.
You promised you'd never come between me and my work.
But this is different, I'm going out of my mind with this ghost business.
Well, you've got your ghost hunter.
If you can't stand it, buy up an hotel, but don't bother me with this.
I'm an artist, I must work.
- Come in! - Your milk and the sleeping draught.
Thank you, Jean-Claude.
Darling Larry, I'm begging you, don't leave me alone here tonight.
Listen, darling.
Forget all about this ghost nonsense.
Take your pills and get a good night's sleep.
- Where's McAllister? - How should I know? Why don't you go and look for him? - Are you going? - What, on my own? - You're not scared? - Terrified! Listen Can't see a thing.
Marty! Shhh! - What? - You were talking to yourself.
Sorry.
What happens now? The husband, Larry Wentworth, leaves every night.
To my mind, a more than somewhat strange circumstance.
I think we should know if he goes to his studio or not.
- You want me to follow him? - Yeah.
Then meet me here.
Tap gently, I'll hear you and let you in.
Here he comes! Where've you been? Doesn't look like a studio.
Hello? It seems Kim Ryskamp's out of luck again.
What's this? Husband number seven? Well, that's that little mystery solved.
He's asleep.
McAllister? Mac? He's dead.
Well, gentlemen, Mrs.
Wentworth, it seems nobody has much of an alibi.
You and your staff asleep in the house.
You alone at your studio And your story, Mr.
Randall, waiting in the drive, is the weakest of all.
Nevertheless, it's true.
I was working for Mr.
McAllister.
- Yes.
- Mmm.
Well, the London branch will be down once they've seen these statements.
In the meantime, I'd be grateful if everyone remained in the village.
I'd like to thank you, Sergeant.
This has been most distressing.
You've handled it with a great deal of tact and consideration.
Good day to you.
Well, we ought to pay Mr.
Randall off, darling.
You can get a room at the village inn.
I've been paid by McAllister.
- Let's call it a day, then.
- I'd rather stay on the case.
I've been paid in full.
I do feel an obligation.
I see.
I have to stay till the police let me go to London.
Well, where would you like to start? You see the ghost upstairs, I understand? - Yes, in my bedroom.
- Perhaps we ought to start there.
Very well.
I'm at your service.
I should tell you first that I'm no ghost hunter.
And I don't believe in ghosts.
- That is, this ghost.
- So? So let's think in terms of a human moving about the castle, appearing and disappearing at will.
You shouldn't do this, darling.
Rest will do you far more good.
Don't worry about me, Larry.
Now, you ask the questions, Mr.
Randall.
Mostly he appears by the door? Oh, no, not always.
He sometimes appears over by the window.
And sometimes over there.
- Any good? - Oh, come on, darling.
As Mr.
Randall said, he's no ghost hunter.
Randall and Hopkirk Investigators.
Ah, no, I'm sorry.
He's away for a few days.
Oh, I see.
The bill.
Look, I'll get him to look into it as soon as he gets back.
Oh, no, I'm sure it's an oversight, yes.
Yes, I'll get him to call.
Yes, I will.
All right, bye-bye.
- Yes? - What number is that? - Oh, which number are you calling? - That is Jean, isn't it? Oh, it's you, Jeff.
Are you taking roots down there or are you going to come back and face your creditors? I see.
'So you're taking the business seriously?' Something terrible's happened.
McAllister's been killed.
- Killed? You mean murdered? - There's not much doubt about that.
I'm at the Duke of Cumberland.
The police are keen on me staying.
- Jeff, you mean you're a suspect? - Nothing as dramatic as that.
It's easier to keep tabs on me than on the ghost of Sir Hubert de Crake.
Oh, I see.
Well, bye-bye, then.
- Good morning.
- Morning.
Can I get you anything? No, I'm waiting for someone.
You don't mind - You can see me! - Of course! But nobody can see me, only Jeff! Well, sorry, but I can.
Always have.
Ever since I was a little girl.
Psychic, you see.
From me mother's side.
This is fantastic! - Sure I can't get you anything? - Quite sure.
- Well, if it's OK, I must get on.
- No, no, please do! I'll join you! - I just don't believe it.
- Oh, the kitchen.
I used to employ two girls and a washing up woman.
But one moves with the times.
I had a time-and-motion man in.
He recommended all this.
- And now you do it all by yourself? - All alone.
What's that? "How To Be Your Own Maintenance Engineer.
" I wouldn't call meself an expert, but I'm learning.
Oh! Mrs.
Pleasance.
Shouldn't you call somebody in until you've mastered it? - You are a worrier.
- That's what my wife used to say.
- Morning, Jeff.
What's the plan? - I dunno yet.
But it's quite obvious that something going on.
You, as a ghost, might be able to tell me what's happening.
Have you told the police about Wentworth yet? No.
I'm keeping quiet till we know what's happening.
- Talk to the girl at the cottage.
- And let her warn the husband? - Jeff, d'you know what you're doing? - No.
One thought.
If Wentworth wanted to get rid of his wife and keep the money, scaring her to death would do.
What was that? - Are you all right, Mrs.
Pleasance? - I'm OK, love.
She can hear you! All the time.
And see me.
She's psychic.
- I've mastered it.
- Well done, Mrs.
P.
A great job.
- Fifteen.
- Fifteen? Steps up to this place.
You watch it, Marty.
This lack of exercise is bad for your health.
What's our next move, Jeff? Go to the castle and take a look at that bedroom - without interruptions.
No problem.
Just wait until Larry's out the way.
His wife won't object.
No, I don't suppose she will.
- What is it? - McAllister's cheque.
It's burning a hole in my pocket.
- You're not gonna send it back? - Where to? He doesn't need it.
Does he? No, everything's free.
But you need it, and Jeannie.
I know we need it.
But can we keep it? You were paid to find a ghost.
OK, so you're working on it.
- Right.
Let's move.
- What's the hurry? If I'm gonna justify my fee, there's gonna be no lying down on this job.
Well, there's nothing visible.
- We're looking for a hiding place.
- Right.
- Concealed space behind walls.
- Right.
- So what are you waiting for? - Eh? If it's a passage behind a wall, you'll be in it.
And if there isn't, I'll be standing in solid stone! - It won't hurt you.
- It might.
Well, now's your chance to find out.
Off you go.
Solid! But it didn't hurt.
Try the bookcase.
Jeff? Jeff? Can you hear me? Yeah.
You found something? Yeah! - Well? - A plain room, no way out! - A priest hole.
- A what? Where they would hide during the persecution.
An ideal place for a ghost to hide.
Now, how do we open it? No sign of a spring.
It's not the end of the world.
When the ghost disappears, we wait.
- It'll come out sometime.
- This case is wrapped up! Ah, Mr.
Randall.
Did you find anything? - Like what? - I don't know, I'm asking you.
I'll be here tonight, in case the ghost walks.
You don't believe he does, do you? Sir Hubert de Crake returned after 500 years to spread gloom? Well, can you think of a better explanation? Not yet, but I'm working on it.
Good day, Mrs.
Wentworth.
- Is there any news, darling? - No.
I spent the morning at the police station giving evidence.
- And you? - Oh, I've been at the studio.
- Ah.
So you won't work tonight? - No, I'm afraid I really must.
Well, in that case, I think you better think again.
Because if you leave me tonight, I'll cut off your allowance.
You won't get another penny from me.
And two of your delicious home-made scones, please, Mrs.
Pleasance.
- Home-made? Didn't he tell you? - Tell me what? I buy them from the supermarket in town on a surplus arrangement.
- The kitchen's like an atomic plant.
- It's economical.
And then I run them through a fierce oven, - just enough to burn the tops.
- Your actual King Alfreds.
People will insist on the home-made look.
- Two scones? - That's right, love.
Ta.
- May I speak with you, monsieur? - Sure.
Asseyez-vous.
For me, this is a difficult decision.
- A matter of conscience.
- Exactly.
I found some information, quite accidentally, - which Mrs.
Wentworth should know.
- Go on.
I cannot tell her because well, it would be bad for Mr.
Wentworth.
- Hello, he's been to the cottage.
- So I decided to tell you.
Mr.
Wentworth does not always go to his studio to paint.
He goes to a cottage where he meets a young lady, right? - You know? - I'm grateful for any information.
Anytime.
- You didn't tell the police! - Neither did you.
- I am employed by them, monsieur.
- Then, why tell me? If Mr.
Wentworth wants this woman and Mrs.
Wentworth's money He invents a ghost to get rid of her? You know, you really should tell your fascinating theory to the police.
- Jeff, he was trying to help.
- Was he? I don't know.
Whose side are we on, anyway? Nobody's.
- I didn't know ghosts felt the cold.
- They don't.
- Come in, Mr.
Randall.
- Merci.
Is Mrs.
Wentworth in bed? Yes.
I've taken up her milk and sleeping pills.
- Mr.
Wentworth? - In his room.
Is there anything I can get you, Mr.
Randall? No, thanks.
Well Let's make ourselves comfortable! Come on, Marty! Larry Wentworth! I owe you my thanks, Mr.
Randall, for everything you've done.
It isn't your fault things came to such a tragic conclusion.
I'd like you to accept this.
It's a cheque for 250 pounds.
As I told you before, Mrs.
Wentworth, I've already been paid.
Consider this just a little extra.
A goodbye gift, if you like.
Then, it's premature.
There's still a few loose ends to tie up.
Loose ends? But surely everything's obvious.
Maybe.
Jean-Claude told me this morning about my husband's extracurricular interests.
The girl at the cottage? Apparently you've known from the beginning.
I find a lot of irrelevant information.
I learn to be discreet.
But this wasn't irrelevant information, Mr.
Randall.
Apparently, he wanted her and everything my money could provide.
- The answer? - To get rid of me.
- Using the ghost routine as a cover.
- Yes.
And as he hoped, to inherit all my money.
Would he have done? Enough to keep him in the manner to which he was accustomed.
You may think me very gullible, Mr.
Randall, but I always genuinely thought of him as a creative artist.
You believed his excuses? It was very foolish of me, but I never seriously considered another woman.
I thought that I had given him everything a man could want.
Goodbye, Mr.
Randall.
Are you quite sure about the cheque? Quite sure.
Thank you.
Jeff, do you know what you're doing? - You've just turned down 250 pounds! - Right.
Why won't you accept Mrs.
Wentworth's version? It suggests Larry killed McAllister.
McAllister must have seen something.
When he was killed, Wentworth was at the cottage, remember? - He could've done it before he left.
- McAllister was still with us! So whoever killed him, it wasn't Larry Wentworth.
What do we do now? We open up a new line of enquiry.
Uh I was hoping to ask you some questions.
My name's Randall.
- I expect you know mine already.
- As a matter of fact, I don't.
Laura Slade.
- You're from the police, aren't you? - Should I be? - I assumed you were.
- I'm a private investigator.
Well, ask your questions.
So long as you don't mind me packing.
Fine.
It's difficult to know how to start.
Um Did Wentworth ever mention a ghost at Crake castle? Sir Hubert Crake? Yes.
- Did you believe it existed? - No.
It was just a figment of her imagination.
Excuse me.
It never occurred to you that Wentworth might be playing the ghost? Larry? You're joking.
Why would he want to do that? Well, he was married to money, and he enjoyed it.
Oh, yes.
He enjoyed it, all right.
And things were OK until you came along.
- Then? - He wanted to marry you and keep the money.
So he invented the ghost? Yes - to drive Mrs.
Wentworth insane in the hope he'd get her committed.
Or to cover his plan to do away with her.
Is that it, Mr.
Randall? Maybe.
I'm asking you.
Well, for one thing, Larry and I were together long before she met him.
We We'd known each other for five years before she came along and offered him the earth.
I'm very fond of money, too, Mr.
Randall.
- So you deliberately let him go? - Oh.
Now, I didn't really let him go, did I? We were doing very well on her handouts.
She was very generous.
And she never once suspected? I didn't know, or care.
I loved Larry.
And she killed him.
- It WAS an accident.
- Oh, yes.
Yes, that's what the coroner will say.
But she killed my Larry.
Accident or not! She killed him! How do you like the idea of married life? - As the eighth Mr.
Ryskamp? - The eighth and the last.
I bet you say that to all your husbands.
You didn't mind playing the servant? It meant I was near you.
I couldn't have gone through it without you, darling.
It's over, fini, an accident.
I suppose I could have paid him off, divorced him.
But when I found out how he was two-timing me with that little tramp, - I couldn't rest until he paid.
- And now he has.
Tomorrow night, we'll be in New York.
And the next day, on my ranch near Rio.
Let's drink to Rio.
We'll drink to Rio after the results of the inquest.
- Mr.
Randall.
- May I come in? Well, have you forgotten something? No.
- Where's Jean-Claude? - It's his day off.
What do you want, Mr.
Randall? I went to see Laura Slade this afternoon.
- Laura Slade? - Oh.
You wouldn't know her name.
She's the girl Jean-Claude told you about.
Well.
Did you speak to her? - No, she's left the district.
- Why are you telling me this? I've had a lot of time to think.
And have you come up with anything new? I've come to the conclusion that there must be a ghost.
When your late husband was supposed to have killed McAllister, he was under my observation.
Um I-I don't quite know what you mean, Mr Mr.
Randall.
Well, if Larry Wentworth didn't kill McAllister, someone else must have.
- But you can't suspect Jean-Claude? - I never said I did.
But I'm led to believe there really was a ghost.
Well, you can hardly tell the coroner that tomorrow.
I agree.
It's unlikely to be accepted as evidence.
So what do you propose to do? Hunt the ghost? Well, at least satisfy myself that one exists.
It's the only way to clear Jean-Claude of suspicion.
Well, tonight will be your last opportunity.
I leave for Rio tomorrow, directly after the inquest.
Then you won't mind me sitting in for the last night? Oh, no, Mr.
Randall.
On the contrary.
It will give me a feeling of added security.
- Come on, Marty, let's go.
- It's still not going to work.
Can you think of anything better? Well, then? The police are stumped.
Larry's dead.
Kim doesn't have to do a thing.
She can't help herself, she'll do something.
Like sending you to join McAllister? We'll soon find out, won't we? Jeff, check the curtains, I think I just saw them move.
Look out, Jeff! Marty, get to the bedroom! - He saw you? - Yes.
Quick, the screaming act! Get into the closet! Quick, he's coming! Hit him, Jeff! Hit him! Jeff, look out! - He'll never find the release catch.
- What, leave him there? Why not? Every family has a skeleton in the cupboard.
So that's how it's done.
It's no good.
I've tried it a thousand times, my hand goes straight through it.
There's no switch in here.
You have to stay until someone hears you! - That could be never.
- It won't be before the inquest.
Or before those two take off.
- They fooled everyone.
- Except you, and you were too late.
Thanks.
Why kill Larry? She could've bought him off.
- Laura Slade.
- Kim found out, you mean? We know she found out.
Money isn't everything.
Kim's a woman.
And hell hath no fury Like a woman scorned.
Right.
Got to think of something to do.
Marty! Go to the police station.
What for? They can't see me, they can't hear me.
You'll think of something.
Go on.
All right, Jeff.
I'll do the best I can.
Don't go away, will you? Oh, good morning.
I don't have to say how sorry I am.
- Oh, thank you, Sergeant.
- The inquest is upstairs.
It's just a formality.
Nothing to worry about.
She's taken you in, Sergeant.
She'll do the same with the coroner.
Well done, Sergeant.
Only a mile and a half to go.
It's no good, Jeff.
It never stood a chance.
She had a dog! Come on, boy, come on! Now, your first thought was that the figure was returning.
I never I never dreamt it would be my husband.
Now, don't distress yourself, Mrs.
Wentworth.
We must think of something to do.
- The inquest will be starting soon.
- It's already started.
Mrs.
Pleasance! Won't keep you a moment! That's fixed it! Hello, vicar.
A pot of tea and some buttered toast.
- I must talk to you, it's urgent! - We'd better go in the kitchen.
Not you, vicar, I'm talking to Mr.
Hopkirk.
- Get your coat on.
- Eh? - I'll explain on the way.
- Oh! Try down there, Mrs.
P.
No, no, try the middle one, then.
Mrs.
Pleasance, you're a darling! There's no time for that, you've got to get to the court! And so, taking all the evidence, I don't think there can be any reasonable doubt that this was entirely an accidental death.
I therefore bring in a verdict of Hold it! Please, sir But there's some new evidence I'd like to submit.
No, don't listen to him! He's gonna tell you lies, lies about me! This man is just a small-time private detective! He's tried to blackmail me! He said he'd come unless I paid him! That's why you locked him in the closet.
You murdered Mr.
Wentworth! No, it was all Jean-Claude's idea! He made me do it! I didn't want to kill Larry, I loved him! It was Jean-Claude! I had to do everything he said! Everything! Believe me oh, believe me.
That's our most profitable case yet.
- And it's only the beginning.
- Beginning? Mrs.
Pleasance.
See? I'm not restricted to you any more.
I can contact people through Mrs.
Pleasance.
- Yeah, I suppose you can.
- It could make us a fortune! - What are you doing here? - Eh? - I've just come to say goodbye.
- The electricity? Afraid so.
Pay my respects to that nice Mr.
Randall for me, won't you? And the best of luck to your business.
Goodbye.
Goodbye, goodbye.
Well, what's that all about? Who were you talking to? Mrs.
Pleasance.
- She's burnt her last scone.
- You mean? I'm afraid so.
Oh, well.
That's life if you see what I mean.