Sister Boniface Mysteries (2022) s02e05 Episode Script

Oh, Reverend Mother!
Sister Peter said
you wished to, um
Reverend
- Mother!?
- Close your mouth, dear.
You look like a goldfish.
It's your father
Is he ill?
Worse!
He's driving me up the wall!
He's convinced he's discovered
secret messages
hidden in the back pages
of his chess journals.
Secret messages?
He's been obsessing
about them for weeks.
Neglecting his university work.
Even tried to alert MI-5!
I'm worried he's losing
his marbles.
You must do something.
Yes.
I shall pray for him.
Something useful!
Spend time with him.
Get him to stop
this ridiculous behaviour!
He's never been the same
since you took the veil.
Well, maybe if he'd talk to me
about it, he'd understand
Oh, why a
once-in-a-generation intellect
chose to lock herself up
in a convent!?
You two used to be so close.
Very well.
I'll come to Oxford
Oh, no need. He's here.
I left him in the car
with a book on astrophysics
and a thermos of Bovril.
He's fine.
I wound the window down.
This came from a tournament
in London last month
Then this turned up two weeks
later from a game in Moscow
Ta-da!
But what do they mean?
Isn't it obvious!?
They mean somebody
at The British Open
Chess Championship
is a Russian spy!
P.T.R.V.D.E.F.
Petrov's Defence!
No doubt a codename
for some Russian plot.
B.O.C.C.
The British Open
Chess Championship.
It's on this weekend.
Right, so
so you think that?
"Meet post final."
The spies plan to meet
straight after the tournament.
Well, you've, um, you've
certainly invested a lot of time
- into this, Father
- It makes perfect sense!
Moves are submitted by players
then wired to various journals.
How better to get messages
in-and-out of Russia
without the authorities
catching on?
Point taken.
However, the, um,
well, the monkey concept,
enough monkeys
at enough typewriters,
suggests that these messages
could simply be down to chance.
Must be thousands of matches
each year
Well, that's what
I've been saying!
"Put-fut-wut"
could mean anything.
Or, more likely, nothing at all!
Like that, is it?
My wife, my daughter,
my own flesh-and-blood,
treating me
like a raving lunatic!
Conversely,
Claude Shannon estimated
the game-tree
complexity of chess
at approximately 10
to the power of 120.
So, even factoring in errors
well, it's certainly worth
looking into.
So you'll talk to the police?
Yes.
Yes. Absolutely.
What am I looking at?
Well, it's a chessboard.
Sorry.
So each square represents
a letter or number.
Hypothetically,
moves spell out words,
using the board as a cypher.
"Hypothetically"?
Well, Father was
always eccentric.
I suspect he's tilting
at windmills.
But I promised to investigate
so investigate I shall.
I volunteer to help.
You think there's a Russian spy
in Great Slaughter?
No, but I was planning to
attend the tournament anyway.
It's a fascinating game, chess.
You know, I was captain
of my school team.
- Were you really? Marvellous!
- Of course you were.
Well, in that case, be my guest!
Take Peggy with you.
And let me know if you uncover
any espionage.
Try not to ruffle any feathers!
- You know we should play a game.
- Yes!
- Shouldn't we!
- Yes!
Are you alright, Father?
Marvellous!
Crikey!
Might have to get myself
one of these contraptions!
Vivienne's no idea
what she's missing.
Oh, I expect Mother will be
happier on the train.
That's Oliver Canning!
Let's introduce ourselves!
Oh, um.
Pleasure to meet you, Mr
Call me Malise. Big fan.
Studied your games from Paris.
Exemplary use
of the Sicilian Dragon!
If I could extricate my father.
I need to register
for the qualification rounds.
You're playing
in the tournament?
I've always admired a woman
with brains.
Oh. You'd be amazed
how many of us have them.
I should check in.
Just got back from
an all-play-all in Leningrad.
Could use some shut-eye
before the opening rounds.
Did you hear?
Leningrad!
Oh, look, police reinforcements!
There's nothing to worry about.
You're the best in the country.
And I intend to remain so.
I can't have any distractions
this weekend, understand?
Of course, Anthony.
So, what do you do, Mr
- Boniface?
- Bonham-Crane.
I'm the Emeritus Professor
of Mathematical Physics
at Oxford University.
I'm sure she won't be long.
Even the qualifying stages
are incredibly competitive.
Considering the entry fee,
wouldn't you be better
finding a nice,
local club to play in?
Thank you, but I think
it'll be awfully good fun!
Checkmate. Sorry.
I'm so sorry. Checkmate.
Terribly sorry. Checkmate.
Must've had help from above.
Perk of the job.
Poppycock! Pure brains.
This young lady was
three-time Chess Champion
at Cambridge University!
Sorry, couldn't help
overhearing.
Fellow alumnus.
Congratulations on making
the main draw.
Oh. Well, thank you.
Is that Evelyn Thurleigh?
Rising star of the chess scene.
Let me introduce you!
I'm Jack, by the way.
Evelyn! Meet
Oh, Sister Boniface,
and my father,
Professor Bonham-Crane.
Read your interview
in Chess Magazine.
Some year you're having!
Clawing my way up the rankings.
He's too modest.
In a couple of days,
he'll be British Champion.
Stop it, Jack!
- And are you playing, too?
- No!
I'm merely Evelyn's
private secretary.
I arrange travel, hotels,
generally keep him
out of mischief.
And the small matter
of being my trainer.
Jack convinced me
I was good enough.
Claimed he could make me
a champion in a year.
- And here we are.
- I haven't won it yet!
You will.
Excuse me a moment. Need to
double-check the schedule.
Udachi!
Sorry?
Um, he said "Good luck."
In Russian.
Thank you.
Oh, there's Mother.
Lovely to meet you!
It worked in 'The Great Escape'!
Table number seven.
- I'll find some seats.
- Right.
There's strong competition here.
Anthony Whitlock.
British Champion.
Let's hope he's not your first-
round opponent or we're toast.
Whitlock's wife, Nadiya.
Highest ranked female player.
Russian ex-pat
and my prime suspect.
Who's more likely to be
passing information
to the USSR
than one of their own!
Shame about Leningrad.
Humiliating
not to win a single game.
I'd be more concerned about
my own "performance"
if I were you, Anthony.
Boys!
No doubt you'll meet
in the later rounds.
Then you can compare
the size of your
intellects.
Mr. Whitlock,
we're about to begin.
- Please take your seat
- Stop pestering me,
you imbecile!
I should join your mother.
Good luck.
Don't lose!
Ladies, Gentlemen,
welcome to Montgomery Hall
for the first round
of the British Open
Chess Championship.
I now declare the main
tournament officially open!
Whites, make your first move.
She's ceded the centre
to her opponent.
Is, is that bad?
Disastrous!
That's it! She's done for!
Wait. I think she has a plan.
A plan to embarrass herself!
Don't make a scene, darling.
Checkmate!
You were saying, dear?
Take it from me, never get
on the wrong side of a bishop!
I taught her everything
she knows!
Well done, Sister!
Cheers!
Cheers. You were amazing!
Oh, thank you, Peggy.
Do you play?
Of course! Love chess!
Really? You never said.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
All the, the moves
An' the rules
An' how the black player
an' the white player
get to pinch
each other's pieces!
No, no, I meant that
Don't slouch, dear!
Oh. Sorry, Mother.
Lucky-lucky-lucky!
Stronger opponent would've
eaten you alive!
Need to sharpen up!
Mmm, yes, maybe you could help?
Play some games.
Give me advice.
Just like when I was little
Don't sabotage the dynamic
potential of your knights
by restricting them
to the periphery!
Such fun!
Well, anything
to catch this spy!
After dinner, then.
Nowt I do's good enough
for my folks, either.
Yes. Well, admittedly
they were
discombobulated by my calling.
Committed atheists, yes.
Assumed I'd be a famous
scientist like my father.
Or successful musician
like my mother and sister.
Still, I'll win them
over eventually!
Nadiya Whitlock seems like
the prime suspect,
but there's also her husband,
naturally.
And Oliver Canning's
just back from Russia.
Evelyn Thurleigh's
a fascinating character.
Nobody'd heard of him
a year ago,
and he's since beaten
three of the top ten!
Oh, if only you'd shown
such ambition.
You do know your sister
is now First Chair?
I'm sure Persephone
must be thrilled.
She's always made
good life decisions.
You could have been
running MI5 by now.
Instead you're busy making
homemade wine and singing hymns!
There's a little bit more
to the job than that, Mother.
Oh, Malise, back me up, please!
As a scientist, I was surprised
you opted to bat
for the other team.
Theologically speaking.
Exactly.
And after all we taught you
to disbelieve in!
Help! Anthony!
Open the door.
Can somebody help me?
Anthony!
It'll be alright.
What's happened?
Anthony's not answering.
I heard Nadiya calling.
Open the door!
Can we help?
Competitors are trying to sleep!
Something's wrong, I know it!
Step back.
The Federation won't be
held responsible for damages!
Can't leave you
for five minutes, can I?
So, the main door was locked
from the inside.
The key was still in the lock.
Adjoining door
into his wife's suite
was also locked from within.
Mr. Whitlock must have suffered
a heart attack,
or an aneurysm maybe.
AKA natural causes.
Which is exactly what
the murderer wants us to think.
- Excuse me?
- Well,
I saw the key in the main door
when I first entered.
But I didn't notice the key
in the adjoining door
into Mrs. Whitlock's room
until after
we'd inspected the body.
So you're saying the killer
could've escaped
through the adjoining door,
locking it behind them
and then replace the key later,
during the chaos
of finding the body?
Exactly!
Giving the impression
the victim died alone.
Fact.
Signs of bruising
on the victim's lower face.
A hand clamped
over his mouth, perhaps.
And, er, see this pinprick wound
and reddening on the neck?
Indicates the victim
was forcibly injected.
With what?
Oh, excellent question.
No idea.
No!
That must be a coincidence.
Or is it!?
See the way these two knights
mirror each other's positions?
This opening's known
as Petrov's Defence.
Like in the message.
Thought Isn't
faking natural causes
the sort of trick
professional spies go for?
Hang on!
We treat this like
any other suspicious death.
Yes. Quite right!
Sir!
Look!
Looks like maths equations.
It's chess annotations.
Probably from the victim's
last few matches.
But why hide it in a teasmaid?
No doubt paranoid
about someone stealing it
to study his tactics.
May I borrow that?
Someone I'd love to take a look!
This murder must be connected
to the secret messages!
Stop shuffling, Malise.
You're giving me a headache.
At last!
Think Whitlock found out
about the Russian spy?
Got himself bumped off?
It's possible.
Here, take a look at this.
It belonged to the victim.
Fascinating
Sweetheart
What are you doing!?
You asked me to help.
To dispel his delusions,
not indulge him!
You're beginning to believe him!
Well, he might be
onto something.
If he's discovered
secret Russian messages,
this murder may be connected.
So if I can identify
the murderer,
we might also find his spy!
I give up!
You always were peas in a pod!
Barmy, the pair of you!
I told you everything
last night.
Just a few more questions.
So you and your husband
always have separate bedrooms?
Anthony was preparing
for his match
with Evelyn Thurleigh tomorrow.
We loved each other
very much, Inspector,
but during a tournament
Anthony never let anything
disturb his concentration.
Even me.
So Anthony was in his room
and you
You were in the bath?
When I got out,
I went to say goodnight,
and Anthony's door was locked.
He didn't reply.
He never goes to sleep
until 11:00.
So I raised the alarm.
Is there anyone
who'd wish your husband harm?
Except
The tournament director.
Quentin Waterford?
He has a drink problem.
At the last tournament,
he fell asleep
while he was supposed
to be officiating.
Anthony lodged a complaint.
If it's upheld, Mr. Waterford
could lose his job.
What about Mr. Canning?
They were great rivals.
No!
No, Oliver and Anthony loved
antagonising each other,
but underneath
there was great respect.
Will you catch whoever
did this, Inspector?
We'll do everything we can.
We're sorry again for your loss.
Just me, or doth the lady
protest too much?
Ah, how d'you get on?
Oh, yes, I'm through
to the next round!
No
Oh, you mean in the lab?
Well, the toxin doesn't match
any common poisons.
Chemical composition's
quite unusual.
Can you identify it?
Oh, absolutely. Just might
take a while, that's all.
Anything to help us narrow down
the list of suspects?
Well, if I'm correct,
and the murderer
left through the adjoining door,
then later replaced the key,
that means they must
have been present
when the body was discovered.
Of course! In that case,
we have Nadiya Whitlock.
The "grieving widow."
She'll also inherit
the victim's wealth.
Oliver Canning,
he's Anthony's long-term rival.
And shameless flirt!
Evelyn Thurleigh.
With Whitlock gone,
he gets a clear route
to the finals.
And his friend, Jack Denbury
Whose livelihood depends
on Evelyn's continued success.
And don't forget
Quentin Waterford.
Yes.
Allegedly a secret alcoholic
being investigated
by the British Chess Federation,
thanks to our victim.
That's everyone.
Perhaps we should
pass these on to MI-5?
You said your father
was tilting at windmills!?
Wouldn't harm to hedge our bets.
Alright, I'll get Special
Branch to send over a list.
Wait. How could
the murderer leave
via Mrs Whitlock's room?
She was in there the whole time!
She was in the bathroom.
Still a big risk to leave
via an occupied suite.
You know, perhaps we should
talk to her again?
It's funny you should
say that
Still have friends in Russia?
Not anymore.
Why do you ask?
No reason.
If you'd had a bath, why were
you still wearing full make-up?
I like to look at my best when
I wish my husband goodnight.
Yet you weren't wearing
your wedding ring?
So it wouldn't tarnish
in the bath.
That must be 18-carats.
No more likely to tarnish
than a murderer's
likely to escape
via an occupied hotel room.
That's why the police suspect
you're the killer.
And you?
Do you think
I killed my husband?
No.
But I am curious as to where
you really were last night.
That's checkmate, by the way.
With Oliver Canning!?
No wonder she played down
the rivalry between the two men.
Didn't want to draw suspicion
to her lover!
We'll speak to him.
Even if Canning
does give Nadiya an alibi,
it doesn't mean much. The affair
means they both had motive.
Oh, by the way, Special Branch
spoke to their contacts at MI-5.
None of our suspects
have ever been on their radar.
As suspected, your father
is clutching at straws.
It's the professor!
Thank you so much, Doctor.
Father? Are you alright?
No! Been poisoned
by the Russians!
Now stop attention-seeking,
Malise.
It's nothing,
he had a funny turn
The doctor says he's been
over-exerting himself.
Not enough sleep.
We need to talk.
You need to rest.
He has been looking
at that notebook all night!
You said that you will help!
I suppose Father's enthusiasm
always has been contagious.
I'll speak to him.
Now, about this whole
spy thing
You did it!
You found proof!
Proof?
I'm not going mad, after all!
So we met up a few times,
en passant.
Couldn't resist breaking through
Nadiya's icy shell.
It was nothing serious.
Perhaps she felt differently?
Got rid of her husband
so she could be with you?
Never!
Nadiya and Anthony were
a meeting of minds.
All the other physical stuff,
he was happy
to let her roam free.
Mrs. Whitlock
mentioned a dispute
between her husband
and Quentin Waterford?
Waterford!? Now he's a man
who likes to drink
but, well, frankly,
it could've been anyone.
Anthony was always far better
at making enemies than friends.
Take poor Evelyn, for example.
What about him?
Anthony got it into his head
that Evelyn and Jack
are more than just chums
Seems we're doing battle
tomorrow morning.
I'm looking forward to it.
Something funny?
I know your dirty,
little secret.
Sorry, I, I don't quite
I've seen those
looks between you.
I'll prove it.
When I do, you'll be blacklisted
from every tournament
in the country!
Hey!
So he was planning to
report them to the authorities?
Anthony was a terrible loser.
His form's been patchy.
He'd've considered
losing to Evelyn
an unbearable humiliation.
If Whitlock found proof Evelyn
and Jack were in a relationship,
it would've ended
Evelyn's career.
He got a foolish idea
in his head.
And he couldn't prove it
because it's not true.
So you and Mr. Denbury
aren't lov
lovers?
This about Anthony Whitlock!?
Nothing but vicious rumours
from a sad little man
who was scared to face Evelyn
in the next round.
Evelyn was with me all evening.
Working on his tactics.
We have to follow up every lead.
- Something I need to show you!
- Not now, Sister.
We're in the middle
of something
Trust me.
You'll want to see this.
Excuse us.
This notebook is
an encoded diary,
using the same cypher
as messages hidden
in recent chess journals.
Never seen this before.
Then I'll elaborate.
The section that
my father's translated
describes a chemical formula,
along with dosages,
results, and side effects.
For example
"Lisowski Cup, San Francisco,
27th July.
Two-point-five micrograms.
Improvements in strategic
planning and improvisation.
Side effects, mild nausea."
No wonder your husband
was keeping this diary hidden.
It proves that he was using a
drug to aid mental performance!
The formula matches
the substance
I isolated from
your husband's blood.
Although he was injected
with an extremely high dose.
A fatal dose, in fact.
This is a fantasy.
With access to
mind-enhancing drugs,
the Russians could seize
the initiative in science,
military technology,
space exploration
This could swing the Cold War
in their favour!
But first you had to kill your
husband to cover your tracks.
Tell us, where did he get
the formula from?
That's enough!
My husband had no need
for such drugs.
He was already a genius.
And we weren't
at the Lisowski Cup.
Not his writing.
Nor mine.
Happy to provide samples
for comparison.
Whoever wrote this book,
it wasn't my husband.
Well, she's right,
they weren't in San Francisco.
Foolish of me,
I should have checked before!
Don't apologise.
Secret messages?
Encoded diary? Now we have
mind-enhancing drugs!?
I never knew chess
could be so exciting!
How do we work out which
of our suspects is the spy?
Right, cross-check
the handwriting
against everyone present
when the body was discovered.
I'll arrange for samples
to be collected.
There you are!
You're late!
Late?
The semi-final.
If you're not at your table
in two minutes,
I'll have no option
but to disqualify you!
Go. We've got this covered.
Your father not here today?
He's ill.
That's dreadful!
Wish him my best.
Nice chap.
You two seem close.
We used to be.
Remember, the Queen is
the most powerful of all.
She can be a formidable shield
or potent weapon.
She can travel
in any direction she chooses
and go as far as she wishes.
With sufficient care,
she can achieve great things.
He believes my vocation
to be a waste of my intellect.
Seems to regard it
as a personal betrayal.
My advice?
Tell him how you feel.
Before it's too late.
I'm in the final!
It was touch-and-go,
but I turned it around.
Bought this knickerbocker glory
from the restaurant
to celebrate.
Thought we could share?
Well, no point wasting it.
I've missed this, you know.
You and me.
Playing chess.
Long chats about everything
and nothing.
You think I chose God
over science,
but it is possible
to combine both.
Just ask Sister
Mary Celine Fasenmyer.
I think you'll find
her dissertation
on hypergeometric polynomials
rather entertaining.
My point is
wimple or no wimple,
I'm still your little girl.
Mmm, yummy!
Short curlicue and three
continuous strokes on the B
Pressure, speed,
and pen-lift consistent
with the written line
Well, it matches
the encoded diary.
Evelyn Thurleigh.
Chemistry degree from
Cambridge University,
where he studied under
the country's leading expert
in cognitive enhancement.
I spoke to the department, and
they were working on a new drug
to alleviate
geriatric memory loss.
It seems like Thurleigh
stumbled across a formula
with wide-spreading
cognitive benefits
and is now trying
to sell it to the Russians.
Well, if he's taking
the drug himself,
that would explain his rapid
rise in the chess world.
Jack Denbury must be
lying to protect him.
Well, it makes sense.
Without Thurleigh,
Denbury's out of a job.
Thurleigh is planning
to meet a Russian spy
after the tournament.
It is our duty
to arrest them both.
Unfortunately, the message
in the chess journal
doesn't say where
the meeting's taking place.
So what's the plan?
You're due to play Thurleigh
in the final later today.
Keep him there long enough
for us to search his room,
procure enough evidence
and hopefully find out
the location of the meeting.
Don't lose too quickly. Roger.
No pressure there then!
Your two finalists,
Evelyn Thurleigh
and Sister Boniface!
Mr. Thurleigh, you may begin.
I heard you like to throw
your opponents off-guard.
Centre-ground's overrated.
I prefer to forge my own path.
- Search the wardrobe.
- Yes, sir.
Sorry.
Sir? Sir.
Where are the drugs?
Insulin injection.
Sorry, I should've
changed my shirt.
No need to apologise.
Must be horrid.
It's not that bad.
I make poor Jack
do the injections for me.
I'm a terrible coward when
it comes to that sort of thing.
Bet he does all sorts for you.
Like filling out those
boring registration forms?
Why would you say that?
You lied, didn't you?
You and Jack weren't together
when Anthony Whitlock
was murdered.
Of course we were.
You've been lying for him.
What're you doing!?
If you leave,
you'll forfeit the match.
Sorry, but I have to.
Wait!
You don't understand.
Whitlock wanted to destroy me
How should we celebrate if
"Now I have proof.
Withdraw from the tournament
or face the consequences."
Jack went to confront him.
Things got out-of-hand
He said it was self-defence.
Jack only went there
to protect me.
It was an act of love!
Not like that.
Jack's not like me.
We'll only ever be friends.
Jack's been lying to you.
And he's about to do
something very bad.
Nonsense!
He's probably just gone
for a walk.
He loves exploring.
Always poring over
his silly maps.
He's a good man.
Maps! Maps!
There's nothing else here!
We'll have to follow Thurleigh
as soon as the match is over.
Alright.
Apparently, we're too late.
While we were busy
watching Evelyn,
the real culprit's got away.
But luckily, we know
how to catch him!
Pass me that map, will you.
And that chessboard.
Care to enlighten us?
Like chess, it's all about
calculating your opponent's
next move
I thought the messages
didn't give a location?
So did we.
But then I remembered
that after the second message
came a sequence of numbers.
Idiot that I am, I dismissed
them as random moves,
but my brilliant little girl
realised they're part
of the message!
Oh. Coordinates!
I favour opening with
Petrov's Defence, don't you?
Selling secrets
to commies, Jack?
Just out for a walk.
We thought it was Evelyn
that had stolen
his professor's research,
but it was you.
You've been using poor Evelyn
as your guinea pig, haven't you?
Mixing the drug
with his insulin?
How else could Evelyn have
gotten so much better
so quickly, hmm?
Anthony wasn't going to report
you two for being homosexual.
He was going to report you
for cheating!
That's why he stole
your notebook.
Hey!
The same notebook
he saw you scribbling on
during Evelyn's matches.
You see, he was obsessed
with uncovering the secret
behind Evelyn's success.
He would've known that
they weren't real chess moves
and deduced that it was code,
but how much he figured out
we'll never know.
Either way, he believed
he now had enough leverage
to force Evelyn to withdraw
from the tournament.
Seeing his note, you realised
that your plan
was at risk of being exposed.
So you went to confront him
Who is it?
The manager.
Need a word about your bill.
What the devil are you doing!?
Give me my notebook!
Ha!
You're the brains
behind the operation?
- I thought so.
- Give it to me.
Why should I?
I'm in the process
of deciphering it.
When I've discovered
how you're cheating,
I'll have Thurleigh banned from
every tournament in the world.
Alright, what d'you want for it?
What do I want?
For your little friend
to withdraw from the tournament.
In fact, I want him to step away
from chess altogether!
- If he refuses?
- He'll be publicly humiliated
and banned anyway.
He walks, you return the book?
You'll have to tell me
how you did it, too.
Call it an insurance policy.
Or I hand it over
to the authorities.
Fine.
But it's easier to show you.
But you couldn't find
the notebook.
Thankfully.
Now we have all the evidence
we need to put you behind bars.
How much did they
offer you, Jack?
You think this was about
getting rich?
Isn't it?
I spent years walking
the corridors of Cambridge,
watching the spoilt offspring
of the upper classes
revel in their inherited wealth.
This is about the future!
A war of heart and minds!
With my formula, communists
around the world will outthink
and outmanoeuvre
their capitalist enemies!
I'm arresting you
on the suspicion
of the murder
of Anthony Whitlock.
You are not obliged
to say anything,
but anything you wish to say
may be put into writing
and given in evidence.
I'll get it out there somehow.
You're on borrowed time,
all of you!
Once MI-5 get involved,
they'll make sure
that you and your formula
remain firmly
under lock-and-key.
Enjoy this place while you can.
I suspect
your next accommodation
won't be quite so luxurious.
Is it true?
You pretended to be my friend
to test out some drug?
For a while, the world
thought you were special,
instead of just
another pampered toff.
You should thank me.
Thank you.
For finally ridding me
of this foolish
infatuation with you.
Enjoy prison.
Sorry I didn't win
the tournament.
I'm the one
who should apologise.
You're the finest brain
in a generation.
Should've trusted you
to find a way
to use your gifts
for the greater good.
Oh, think what you could do
with MI-5!
I'm just saying it's never
too late to change your mind!
This is for you.
Oh. Erm, er, no.
Er, but I forfeited.
Thurleigh's been disqualified.
We can't allow
performance enhancing chemicals,
even if taken unwittingly.
You win by default.
I say, Malise?
Our daughter the chess champion!
Always said she could be
a Grandmaster!
Well, it seems congratulations
are in order, Sister!
Well played, Sister.
You also win a place
at the Royal Invitational
at Oxford next month.
Oh, erm, actually,
I'm retiring
from professional chess.
- What?
- Why!?
I prefer a career
with a bit more variety.
This is lovely, though.
Just the ticket for keeping
my spare corks in.
If everyone could smile
for the camera?