Father Brown (2013) s09e10 Episode Script
The Red Death
Here are the files you
asked for, Lord Montague.
Thank you.
No more calls, Miss Maitland.
I'm leaving in exactly two minutes.
Only contactable in case of emergency, on pain of death.
Oh, and .
.
Happy New Year.
I just Special Branch? Yes, go on.
This better be good, Jones.
If I don't get ahead of that snowstorm Contact Kembleford Police.
Get every available officer to my estate immediately.
- Sir Charles, Lady Hakeworth! - Hello.
Thrilled you could make it.
Our pleasure, Lady Felicia.
My personal physician, Dr Muthomi.
Welcome to Montague, Doctor.
Delighted to be here.
Where's Monty? I have an admirably geriatric bottle of Talisker I'd like his opinion on.
- Due any moment.
Hornby - My Lady.
Show our guests of honour to their rooms and bring up a decanter for the whisky.
Thank you again for your help, Sidney.
It's not every day you get to drive the Minister of Defence.
That's the lot.
What's next? Hornby has a tuxedo for you.
For me? You want me at the ball? I invited you as a guest, not an employee.
On two conditions.
Don't get too drunk, and you must ask at least one lady to dance.
Dance? Male partners are a trifle thin on the ground this year.
Monty! See? Nothing to worry about.
Oh, it's just you.
Oh, that's charming.
Sorry.
Monty's gone AWOL.
We come bearing gifts.
Thank you.
Let me guess.
Scones? Award-winning strawberry scones.
Scones would be totally unsuitable for an occasion like this.
Petit fours.
French.
Just imagine.
My baking being sampled by a future Prime Minister.
Oh.
Lord Finchmore.
Robert, please.
I hear "Lord Finchmore" and I think my father's ghost is stood behind me.
Still writing poetry? For my sins.
Where's my rogue of an uncle? On his way.
If he knows what's good for him.
Is that Ruth Moulton?? Bunty.
I recognised your car.
Ruth! Last I heard, you were off to Oxford.
Ah, yes, St Hilda's and I had a little falling out.
I got sent down.
Oh, dear.
Well, you'll have to tell me all about it.
But for now let's all get in from the cold.
Yes.
This is a private event! I've orders to seal off the estate.
Nobody's allowed in or out, m'lady.
Under whose authority? Your husband's.
Oh.
Have you found out what's going on? Not yet.
The Inspector told me to "be elsewhere.
" No, something's up, though.
They're searching the grounds.
Probably some miscreant at large.
Sidney, do you not have duties to attend to? Sid has been invited to the ball.
Oh, wonderful.
You must be thrilled, Sid.
Not really.
Oh, come on, Mrs M, why won't you join us? Well, it's all very well for you, with your wardrobes full of fancy frocks.
I'm hardly going to fit in in this now, am I? Is that all? We have bundles of ballgowns.
I can help pick something out for you.
Oh, say you'll come.
Oh, all right.
Well, just for you.
- Come on.
- Ah Sure nothing's wrong? They're probably here to arrest you, Lord Finchmore, for crimes against literature.
I'd rather be a bad poet than a bad politician, Sir Charles.
At least my words don't kill people.
Not for lack of trying.
Ah, pretty as a picture.
Pictures are intended to be gawped at, Sir Charles.
I prefer an intelligent conversation.
- Hello, everyone.
- Monty! Finally.
Lady Felicia was considering sending out a search party.
My humblest apologies.
Where have you been? I'll explain.
First, Sir Charles, a word in private? Perhaps you'd join us, Father? And me? Am I allowed to know what's about to happen in my own home? A rather delicate matter.
Yes.
Why not? I'm obliged to you, Sir.
Special Branch believes the death threat is credible.
And I told them it's an occupational hazard.
Ask Julius Caesar.
What did the death threat say? "Hakeworth must answer for his crimes.
"The Red Death is coming.
" Red Death? Communists.
Should've known.
Maybe you should return to London? You'd never get through the snow.
Montague's safe, easily protected.
I'll protect you until Special Branch arrives.
I'll stick to you like glue.
But we've been planning this ball for months.
Fear not, Cinderella.
It shall go ahead.
I insist.
Sir Charles? I know Lord Montague thinks highly of you, Father, but I don't need a priest just yet.
It's a hoax.
Eden's on his last legs.
I'll soon have the support to succeed Churchill.
Someone wants to put the wind up me.
But you don't know who? I doubt my enemies would give notice before sticking a knife in my back.
Except Just his puerile humour.
Finchmore! Well? Is he in danger? Edgar Allen Poe's chilling allegory The Red Death argues that "Darkness and Decay hold illimitable dominion over all".
Even the rich and powerful will face judgment.
Luckily, whoever wishes to dispense said judgment will do well to get through a police cordon.
Unless the fox is already amongst the chickens.
Ha! You've lost your marbles.
This prank proves that you're as feeble-minded as your father.
Mention him again.
I dare you.
Good to see you again, Miss Moulton.
Dr Muthomi.
Haven't you got the message? Keep away from us.
Who knew Sir Charles would be at Montague tonight? I mentioned it to Ruth.
She lives in Sir Charles' constituency.
How do you know her? Daughter of a friend of a friend.
We used to invite her round to keep Bunty company.
It became a tradition.
I warned Robert that Sir Charles was attending.
"Warned"? He's always despised Sir Charles.
Robert's a tormented soul.
His father, Monty's brother-in-law, killed himself a few years ago.
Lady Hakeworth knew they were coming, of course.
And Dr Muthomi.
Fascinating chap.
Lady Hakeworth found him in an orphanage in Nairobi.
Brilliant mind.
They took him in, paid for his education.
They adopted him? Not officially.
Sir Robert didn't think having a Kenyan for - a son would help his political career.
- Mm.
Oh.
I nearly forgot.
This was put on my desk by mistake.
Ah.
It's, erm .
.
from an old friend in, ah, New York.
Whenever she visits a restaurant, she insists on sending me a review.
I should go and check on the catering.
I believe I'm in the doghouse.
My dearest Felicia.
I feel your absence more keenly with every day that passes.
Yet your last letter gave me hope.
In return, I wish to give you something.
A choice.
You know Sir Charles is only courting you? He wants your backing to become Prime Minister.
Please tell me you're not working.
Sorry, sorry.
Last minute problems with the Gunner Day report.
I hoped, for once, you'd prioritise your friends and family.
Me, even.
But to be late to your own party! I'm here now.
Are you? Even when we're together, your mind is elsewhere.
I wonder if I packed a bag and left how long it would take you to even notice that I'd gone? Sorry, I No, no, you're right.
We'll talk.
Tonight, however, we must keep up appearances for our guests.
Very well.
I'm ready if you are.
Do you think Sir Charles has tried one of my petit fours yet? Surely only a matter of time.
Mm.
Robert, Ruth.
Please may I introduce you to Sidney Carter? Pleasure to make your acquaintance.
I recognise you.
You used to be the chauffeur! Oh, poor Aunt Felicia.
So many guests dropping out with the weather she's been forced to make up the numbers.
Excuse me.
What did I say? Ladies, gentlemen, welcome to our annual masked ball.
Thank you for coming.
Now, the more observant amongst you will have noticed the constabulary outside.
I told the Inspector he wasn't invited, but he wouldn't take no for an answer, so Nothing to be alarmed by! Just an added precaution, that's all.
There is plenty of food and drink, so indulge yourselves and have a wonderful time.
Music! Ah, a petit four, Sir Charles? Ah, Lady Hakeworth? Yes, all right.
Sir Charles? - No - Oh, darling! Are you all right, Sir Charles? Ah Migraine.
I might have a lie down.
I'll come with you.
The devil you will! Oh.
Don't eat that.
It's been on the floor.
Excuse me.
Arrrgh! Not dancing, Dr Muthomi? I have no desire to create a spectacle.
Oh, I'm sure Lord and Lady Montague would wish all their guests to enjoy themselves.
Perhaps Miss Moulton would like a dance? That would not be appropriate, professionally speaking.
Oh.
Is she a patient of yours? No.
She She knows Sir Charles, that's all.
Ah.
I hope you manage to have some fun.
Done a sweep.
Nothing to report.
But we've checked your list of those aware of Sir Charles' attendance.
It turns out Lord Finchmore has a record.
Drunk-and-disorderly, assault.
Fisticuffs over cards, I believe.
Ancient history.
Then there's Miss Moulton.
Don't mind me.
Sent down from Oxford University for ill-advised acts of protest in support of the Mau Mau.
Ah.
Sir Charles is sending further troops to Kenya.
Perhaps Miss Moulton wishes to scare him into changing his mind.
Erm Excuse me, gentlemen.
I should check on our guests.
Just had word from Special Branch, Sir.
Storm's getting worse.
Their officers are stuck outside Kiddington.
Then it's lucky for them I have everything under control.
I went to check on Charles.
The door's locked.
He's not answering.
I'll be hauled over the coals for this.
- The Inspector says you shouldn't - He's my husband! Sorry, sir.
I've given Lady Hakeworth a sedative.
She's sleeping.
Cause of death? Sir Charles was strangled.
Or garrotted, to be precise.
Well, there wasn't much sign of a struggle.
A strong man could've rendered him unconscious in seconds.
Of course, it was only a superficial assessment.
If you require a more thorough examination Do it.
I need answers.
I should make an announcement.
Ah.
If people learn there's been a murder they may panic and try to leave.
Hate to say it, but the padre's right.
That cordon breaks, the killer vanishes.
Best keep silent.
What about interviewing witnesses? Well, there's no rush.
We'll check for fingerprints, secure the crime scene, wait for Special Branch.
Do something for me, Father? Find the devil who did this.
Any indication of what was used to strangle the victim? Hard to say.
A cord, a rope? A dog collar.
Oh, wait, it's none of your business! No sign of a weapon, sir.
But this was in a bin down the corridor.
The murderer must've locked the door behind them then disposed of the key.
Probably to delay the body being found.
Looks like there's a fingerprint, though.
Only a partial one, mind, but I'll get it looked at.
Good work, Sergeant.
Talking of fingerprints, have you seen Sir Charles' fingers? Abrasions, from where he tried to remove the ligature, perhaps? Quite possibly.
Downstairs he was unwell.
Between us, he'd been drinking since we first arrived.
Whisky.
Brought his own.
So where is it? I require acetone for cleaning my medical equipment, so I don't contaminate the body.
With your permission, I know who may have some.
Be discreet.
And you, Padre.
"Abrasions from where he tried to remove the ligature"? I've been reading Kerr's Guide to Forensic Medicine, sir.
You see, I was thinking of taking my inspector's exams.
Sorry, I thought you were j Your inspector's exams? I'd hoped for your blessing, sir, but Stupid of me.
Just forget I said anything, sir.
Right.
Well, I need you to start taking the fingerprints from the guests.
Say it's an additional security measure.
Yes, sir.
What on earth is the matter? I'm leaving Monty.
No, no.
You can't mean that.
What has bought all this on? Someone.
An, ah An acquaintance A man.
.
.
has asked me to elope.
So not exactly an acquaintance, then? I said no, but in truth I'm Tempted by his Gallic charms? You knew? I had my suspicions.
Then I saw his handwriting on the envelope.
Wait a minute.
You You can't mean Flambeau? I know! But I can't deny there's something between us.
He's so exciting, and handsome and And an immoral, deceitful thief.
Well, at least Hercule treasures me.
Monty may have loved me once, but now he's as passionate and demonstrative as a biscuit! Anyway I thought Flambeau had gone to America? He's been writing to me.
And now he's sent an aeroplane ticket so that I can join him.
Have you told Lord Montague you're unhappy? I shouldn't have to! Sometimes we don't notice that which we see every day.
Excuse me for changing the subject, but I wondered if you'd join Bunty and I in the kitchen downstairs.
I need your assistance.
I would ask Sid as well, but he seems to have vanished.
Well, that can wait.
Whatever it is, it is far more important that you talk some sense into her head Sir Charles Hakeworth is dead.
What? How? Well, I was rather hoping you'd help me to find out.
Why can't you just leave it to the police? It will take hours to compare all the fingerprints of the guests, and the murderer might escape.
And we've no idea what was used to strangle Sir Charles? Except that it scratched his fingertips as he fought to remove it.
So we know the how and the where, but not the who, the why or the with what? Indeed.
Only Lord Finchmore, Miss Moulton, Lady Hakeworth and Dr Muthomi knew that Sir Charles would be here.
Bunty, you know Miss Moulton? A little.
I saw her talking to Lord Finchmore earlier.
Check whether they can give each other an alibi for the time of Sir Charles' death.
Will do.
I will talk to the staff to see if Dr Muthomi left after Sir Charles from the ballroom.
The doctor's hardly going to kill his own patient, is he? Not just a patient.
His father-figure who refused to acknowledge him as his legal child.
What about Lady Hakeworth? She had an opportunity when she went to check on Sir Charles.
Opportunity, yes.
Motive, no.
I don't mind mingling with the guests, - pick up any gossip.
- Mm-hm! In order to bring a murderer to justice! Thank you, Mrs McCarthy.
What shall I do? Look for Sid? Perhaps you should look to your husband first.
Once more unto the breach? Father? There is someone else I need to ask for help.
Oh.
Sid? I feel sick.
One over the eight? Just the one, full stop.
Single malt.
And something else.
Where did you find this? It's important.
Oh Well, I decided the ball wasn't for me so I went upstairs.
I saw someone stashing that in a cupboard and I thought, "Must be decent if they're going to the trouble of hiding it.
" Did you see their face? Nah.
They were wearing a mask.
Red skull.
The Red Death.
Bunty! Seeking respite from the madding crowd? I was just hoping to have a moment with Ruth.
- I'll get some more Champagne.
- Hm.
Only a bit of fun.
No other men at this party worth talking to.
Oh, well, don't let me stop you.
I just wanted to tell you something.
Please be discreet about it.
Sir Charles is dead.
Dead? How? Strangled.
Well, Robert and I have been together the whole time.
Are you certain of that? Yes.
And a good thing for Robert.
He's never hidden the fact that he loathes Sir Charles.
Do you know why? It may help find the killer.
All I know is he blames Sir Charles for his father's death.
Sounds like a motive to me.
But if Robert's innocent, he has nothing to fear.
They found a fingerprint.
Miss Moulton, you're here.
Did you bring acetone for removing nail varnish? I need some for my work.
If it's no bother.
Ah, yes.
I'll fetch some now.
And as you say, Robert has nothing to fear.
About what? Sir Charles has been murdered.
I I wanted to apologise.
I've been vile to you all evening.
No, no, no.
No, you've been under a lot of pressure, getting everything ready and Well, it's more than that.
You must know I I haven't been happy for a For a very long time.
Must I? Perhaps, yes.
So What are you saying? Well, how do you feel? About me.
Feel about you? You're my wife! And? Let's not get into this right now, hm? We'll talk later, I promise.
So you think Sir Charles was drugged? Whatever was in that decanter knocked Sid for six.
I had to make him a very strong cup of coffee.
The use of medication rather points at Dr Muthomi.
Nobody saw the doctor leave the ballroom but that doesn't prove he didn't slip out unnoticed.
Did you speak to Miss Moulton? Yes.
Apparently Robert blames Sir Charles for his father's death.
But Ruth insists they were together the whole time.
Well, that is very odd, because one of the guests told me that Lord Finchmore and Lady Hakeworth were seen arguing on the landing.
How dare you?! You're a disgrace to your family name, spreading these lies.
Your precious husband's not the saint you think he is.
Should I tell you how my father found out? Perhaps what Lady Hakeworth found out about her husband drove her to murder? So where was Ruth during all this? - Oh.
- heaven only knows.
That young woman spells trouble.
And Lady Hakeworth has been saying as much to anyone who'll listen.
What did Ruth do to her? Well, apparently Miss Moulton turned up at their house, uninvited, making a fuss over some petition about Kenya.
Oh, Sir Charles quite rightly sent her packing.
Murder! Oh! What happened? I I came to fetch some acetone for Dr Muthomi.
And that thing was in here.
He had a knife.
Fetch the doctor.
Quickly.
I'm scared, Father.
God is with you.
And so am I.
The doctor says she's in grave danger.
Just pray that help arrives soon.
You saw the culprit? He was wearing the Red Death mask.
If Miss Moulton was getting acetone for Dr Muthomi, where was he? He was with me.
Lady Hakeworth! We didn't realise you were awake.
I heard the commotion.
Dr Muthomi was in your room? I cried out in my sleep.
He came to my aid.
Have you caught my husband's murderer yet? Our investigations are ongoing, your ladyship.
Lady Hakeworth, what did Lord Finchmore accuse your husband of doing? You were seen arguing with him.
He made the baseless claim that Charles had a liaison with Lord Finchmore's mother, prompting his father's suicide.
Whoever killed Sir Charles, why would they want to attack that young lady? There must be a connection.
Lady Hakeworth, is it true that Miss Moulton visited your home? Oh, yes.
Brandishing her petition.
Which Sir Charles rejected? Naturally.
When that failed, she tried her feminine wiles.
Which were also rejected, might I add.
Miss Moulton made advances on? The moment she got Charles alone.
If you don't believe me, ask Dr Muthomi.
He saw her scurrying off with her tail between her legs.
Oh, Sidney, how are you feeling now? Like a hedgehog's nesting in my skull.
And then there were three.
Lady Hakeworth, Dr Muthomi, or Lord Finchmore? Well, it has to be Lord Finchmore.
He's keen on Miss Moulton, finds out she threw herself at Sir Charles, and attacks them both in a jealous rage.
But until today, Robert hadn't seen Ruth in years.
And the death threat was sent hours earlier.
What if we accept Lord Finchmore's claim that Sir Charles was an adulterer? A young, attractive woman turns up at his house uninvited and leaves in tears.
What are you saying, Father? That it wasn't her that threw herself at him? You think he assaulted her? No, but Miss Moulton can't be the Red Death because you saw the killer running from her room while she was still inside.
But what if someone else got revenge on her behalf? The only witness to Sir Charles' crime.
The doctor, you mean? If that were true, why then stab Ruth? Um I feel like I let Lady F down.
It was hardly your fault.
But I shouldn't be pilfering other people's whisky, should I? If that's how you feel, it's not too late to make amends.
How did it go with? Monty couldn't offer me one word of affection.
I rather think we've reached the end of the road.
With permission, I'd like to accompany her to the hospital.
She's lost a lot of blood.
I'd like that.
- Perhaps I could escort them, sir? - Very well.
Go with her.
Before you leave, Doctor Muthomi, might I trouble you for a painkiller? Headache.
No time, Father.
- Surely you must have some in your bag? - We must go.
Open your bag, I insist! Thought you'd sneak past the cordon in the ambulance, did you? He deserved it! After him! Get her to the hospital.
Don't worry.
He won't get away.
Just remember what I taught you.
I'll do my best.
So, who's it going to be? Ah, Mathilda Pitcher, she's a sweetheart.
Lily Mansfield? Lily's a bit of a handful.
Nah.
I know just the girl for me.
Who? Mrs M, will you do me the honour? Oh, Sidney! Well, that would be lovely.
Sidney, you're quite the dancer! Oh! That was my shin.
Yeah, well, Rome wasn't built in a day, Mrs M.
Would you like to dance? Who knows when we'll have another opportunity? You know, Sidney, you're quite wrong.
You are the perfect gentleman! Goodfellow, search the back of the room.
Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.
This is urgent police business.
Please remove your masks.
Immediately! The escape's surrounded, Doctor.
There is no escape! - Inspector! - Dr Muthomi, I'm arresting you for - Oh, get off me! - Let me go or she dies.
I need to have a word with the patient.
I had to see you again, to make sure.
Sure of what? Your wound -- it isn't real, is it? Dr Muthomi faked it with blood from his arm.
Don't be ridiculous.
Look at me! I am.
I saw men with wounds like that in the Great War.
The blood kept coming until they were drenched.
Yours is beginning to dry.
At first, I thought that Doctor Muthomi stabbed you so that he could escape in the ambulance.
But why stab the woman that he was avenging? Now I know that it was you who is trying to escape.
Think about this.
Walk out of here or I kill her and take my chances.
Your choice.
- No, you can go.
But not with her.
- She's my protection.
Elliot, please! Don't do this.
Take me, instead.
I won't struggle, you have my word.
- Monty, no.
- I'm not going to stand here and let him take you away from me.
Me for her.
You and I leave together.
- No tricks? - I swear it.
Don't do this.
If you go with him, he'll kill you as soon as you're out the door.
- Better me than her.
- Monty? Felicia, I love you.
I adore you.
I always have.
- I'm sorry I didn't tell you more often.
- Oh, no! Do what I say.
And why, of all the people here, did he seek you out to ask for acetone? Unless he knew that you were the murderer and he wanted to warn you that the police had found your fingerprint? I'm hardly capable of murdering a man with my bare hands! You didn't use your bare hands.
Sir Charles' fingertips were scratched as he fought to free himself.
And upstairs .
.
I found these, and I remembered the jewels on your belt.
The murder weapon was hiding in plain sight.
No! God is watching you, Ruth, and he knows what happened.
And so do I.
Sir Charles invited me into his study.
Said he was interested in what I had to say.
Then he came closer.
The stench of whisky on his breath.
I tried to fight him off, but I couldn't sleep for weeks.
I could barely breathe.
Then I heard he was coming tonight.
And I knew it would be my only chance.
Then why the death threat? Why warn him he was in danger? A man like that .
.
I wanted him to know what it was like to be afraid.
And the sedative in his whisky? So he'd be too weak to fight back.
When they found Sir Charles' body, the doctor came to me, like you said.
Told me I had to escape.
But they would only let you through the cordon if they thought your life was in danger.
I thought, if I killed him, it would make the pain stop.
I can only imagine the pain you have suffered.
But you must search your heart.
Dr Muthomi risked everything to help you escape.
Can you let him hang for the murder you committed? I won't hurt you.
Now walk.
You can't trust a word he says.
He stabbed a young woman.
He murdered the Minister of Defence.
He did neither! I killed Sir Charles.
I'm the Red Death.
Why? Because he rejected you? No.
Because he thought his power and privilege meant he could take whatever he wanted.
That he could live without consequence.
He was wrong.
But Father Brown saw the Red Death running from your bedroom while you were still inside.
That was Doctor Muthomi.
It was a ploy to prove that Miss Moulton wasn't the Red Death.
He gave me the slip, and then hid in the room where Lady Hakeworth was sleeping.
Is that not so, Doctor? I knew what Sir Charles did and I said nothing, to my eternal shame.
None of this is your fault.
You only tried to help me.
But it's over now, so .
.
please, let Lord Montague go.
Forgive me, Lord Montague, Lady Felicia.
I'd never harm you.
Father, why have they arrested the doctor? I told them it was me.
Helping you try to escape made him an accessory after the fact.
It was my choice.
I'm only sorry I did not act sooner.
What should I do? Tell the truth.
And pray.
Pray? A little late for that.
It's never too late.
Forgiveness and love are always there for you.
You wish for me to repent, but I can't be sorry that man is dead.
Do not let him cast a shadow over the rest of your life.
God will show you the light if you let him in.
Come on.
Wait! I knew what he was, deep down.
I wouldn't let myself see it.
I want you to know I believe you.
At times like this, one must be grateful for what one has.
So, my friends, my family, with the New Year nearly upon us, I wish you all love and kindness.
To 1954.
Thank you for inviting me.
Most fun I've had in ages! Offering to sacrifice yourself like that, it's awfully brave.
If only I'd shown a bit of backbone years ago.
What would you have done? Talked.
About the children that never came, the pain it caused.
Instead I let it tear us apart.
We both did.
So, what now? I only ever wanted you to fight for me.
For us.
I will, I swear it.
Every single day.
There are, um, things I must tell you.
Things I've done.
It's New Year's Eve.
How about we concentrate on the future? You should take those exams.
Really, sir? Thank you.
Why the change of heart? You're a good copper.
Truth is we need more inspectors like you.
I only hesitated because I've got used to having you around.
It'll take some time, sir.
I'm not the quickest learner, so you'll have to put up with me for a little while yet.
I'll cope, Goodfellow.
I'll cope.
Well, that was an experience! Next year, I say we hit The Red Lion for a few quiet pints instead.
At least the storm seems to have passed.
Poor Ruth.
What will happen to her? We'll pray the courts show mercy.
I thought you might be able auction that off at the next fete.
A one-way ticket to New York? There must be one member of the congregation you'd like to see the back of? On behalf of the church roof restoration fund, I thank you.
- I thank you.
- Right, are we all met? Yes.
- Oh! - Aha.
Five .
.
four, three, two, one.
Happy New Year!
Thank you.
No more calls, Miss Maitland.
I'm leaving in exactly two minutes.
Only contactable in case of emergency, on pain of death.
Oh, and .
.
Happy New Year.
I just Special Branch? Yes, go on.
This better be good, Jones.
If I don't get ahead of that snowstorm Contact Kembleford Police.
Get every available officer to my estate immediately.
- Sir Charles, Lady Hakeworth! - Hello.
Thrilled you could make it.
Our pleasure, Lady Felicia.
My personal physician, Dr Muthomi.
Welcome to Montague, Doctor.
Delighted to be here.
Where's Monty? I have an admirably geriatric bottle of Talisker I'd like his opinion on.
- Due any moment.
Hornby - My Lady.
Show our guests of honour to their rooms and bring up a decanter for the whisky.
Thank you again for your help, Sidney.
It's not every day you get to drive the Minister of Defence.
That's the lot.
What's next? Hornby has a tuxedo for you.
For me? You want me at the ball? I invited you as a guest, not an employee.
On two conditions.
Don't get too drunk, and you must ask at least one lady to dance.
Dance? Male partners are a trifle thin on the ground this year.
Monty! See? Nothing to worry about.
Oh, it's just you.
Oh, that's charming.
Sorry.
Monty's gone AWOL.
We come bearing gifts.
Thank you.
Let me guess.
Scones? Award-winning strawberry scones.
Scones would be totally unsuitable for an occasion like this.
Petit fours.
French.
Just imagine.
My baking being sampled by a future Prime Minister.
Oh.
Lord Finchmore.
Robert, please.
I hear "Lord Finchmore" and I think my father's ghost is stood behind me.
Still writing poetry? For my sins.
Where's my rogue of an uncle? On his way.
If he knows what's good for him.
Is that Ruth Moulton?? Bunty.
I recognised your car.
Ruth! Last I heard, you were off to Oxford.
Ah, yes, St Hilda's and I had a little falling out.
I got sent down.
Oh, dear.
Well, you'll have to tell me all about it.
But for now let's all get in from the cold.
Yes.
This is a private event! I've orders to seal off the estate.
Nobody's allowed in or out, m'lady.
Under whose authority? Your husband's.
Oh.
Have you found out what's going on? Not yet.
The Inspector told me to "be elsewhere.
" No, something's up, though.
They're searching the grounds.
Probably some miscreant at large.
Sidney, do you not have duties to attend to? Sid has been invited to the ball.
Oh, wonderful.
You must be thrilled, Sid.
Not really.
Oh, come on, Mrs M, why won't you join us? Well, it's all very well for you, with your wardrobes full of fancy frocks.
I'm hardly going to fit in in this now, am I? Is that all? We have bundles of ballgowns.
I can help pick something out for you.
Oh, say you'll come.
Oh, all right.
Well, just for you.
- Come on.
- Ah Sure nothing's wrong? They're probably here to arrest you, Lord Finchmore, for crimes against literature.
I'd rather be a bad poet than a bad politician, Sir Charles.
At least my words don't kill people.
Not for lack of trying.
Ah, pretty as a picture.
Pictures are intended to be gawped at, Sir Charles.
I prefer an intelligent conversation.
- Hello, everyone.
- Monty! Finally.
Lady Felicia was considering sending out a search party.
My humblest apologies.
Where have you been? I'll explain.
First, Sir Charles, a word in private? Perhaps you'd join us, Father? And me? Am I allowed to know what's about to happen in my own home? A rather delicate matter.
Yes.
Why not? I'm obliged to you, Sir.
Special Branch believes the death threat is credible.
And I told them it's an occupational hazard.
Ask Julius Caesar.
What did the death threat say? "Hakeworth must answer for his crimes.
"The Red Death is coming.
" Red Death? Communists.
Should've known.
Maybe you should return to London? You'd never get through the snow.
Montague's safe, easily protected.
I'll protect you until Special Branch arrives.
I'll stick to you like glue.
But we've been planning this ball for months.
Fear not, Cinderella.
It shall go ahead.
I insist.
Sir Charles? I know Lord Montague thinks highly of you, Father, but I don't need a priest just yet.
It's a hoax.
Eden's on his last legs.
I'll soon have the support to succeed Churchill.
Someone wants to put the wind up me.
But you don't know who? I doubt my enemies would give notice before sticking a knife in my back.
Except Just his puerile humour.
Finchmore! Well? Is he in danger? Edgar Allen Poe's chilling allegory The Red Death argues that "Darkness and Decay hold illimitable dominion over all".
Even the rich and powerful will face judgment.
Luckily, whoever wishes to dispense said judgment will do well to get through a police cordon.
Unless the fox is already amongst the chickens.
Ha! You've lost your marbles.
This prank proves that you're as feeble-minded as your father.
Mention him again.
I dare you.
Good to see you again, Miss Moulton.
Dr Muthomi.
Haven't you got the message? Keep away from us.
Who knew Sir Charles would be at Montague tonight? I mentioned it to Ruth.
She lives in Sir Charles' constituency.
How do you know her? Daughter of a friend of a friend.
We used to invite her round to keep Bunty company.
It became a tradition.
I warned Robert that Sir Charles was attending.
"Warned"? He's always despised Sir Charles.
Robert's a tormented soul.
His father, Monty's brother-in-law, killed himself a few years ago.
Lady Hakeworth knew they were coming, of course.
And Dr Muthomi.
Fascinating chap.
Lady Hakeworth found him in an orphanage in Nairobi.
Brilliant mind.
They took him in, paid for his education.
They adopted him? Not officially.
Sir Robert didn't think having a Kenyan for - a son would help his political career.
- Mm.
Oh.
I nearly forgot.
This was put on my desk by mistake.
Ah.
It's, erm .
.
from an old friend in, ah, New York.
Whenever she visits a restaurant, she insists on sending me a review.
I should go and check on the catering.
I believe I'm in the doghouse.
My dearest Felicia.
I feel your absence more keenly with every day that passes.
Yet your last letter gave me hope.
In return, I wish to give you something.
A choice.
You know Sir Charles is only courting you? He wants your backing to become Prime Minister.
Please tell me you're not working.
Sorry, sorry.
Last minute problems with the Gunner Day report.
I hoped, for once, you'd prioritise your friends and family.
Me, even.
But to be late to your own party! I'm here now.
Are you? Even when we're together, your mind is elsewhere.
I wonder if I packed a bag and left how long it would take you to even notice that I'd gone? Sorry, I No, no, you're right.
We'll talk.
Tonight, however, we must keep up appearances for our guests.
Very well.
I'm ready if you are.
Do you think Sir Charles has tried one of my petit fours yet? Surely only a matter of time.
Mm.
Robert, Ruth.
Please may I introduce you to Sidney Carter? Pleasure to make your acquaintance.
I recognise you.
You used to be the chauffeur! Oh, poor Aunt Felicia.
So many guests dropping out with the weather she's been forced to make up the numbers.
Excuse me.
What did I say? Ladies, gentlemen, welcome to our annual masked ball.
Thank you for coming.
Now, the more observant amongst you will have noticed the constabulary outside.
I told the Inspector he wasn't invited, but he wouldn't take no for an answer, so Nothing to be alarmed by! Just an added precaution, that's all.
There is plenty of food and drink, so indulge yourselves and have a wonderful time.
Music! Ah, a petit four, Sir Charles? Ah, Lady Hakeworth? Yes, all right.
Sir Charles? - No - Oh, darling! Are you all right, Sir Charles? Ah Migraine.
I might have a lie down.
I'll come with you.
The devil you will! Oh.
Don't eat that.
It's been on the floor.
Excuse me.
Arrrgh! Not dancing, Dr Muthomi? I have no desire to create a spectacle.
Oh, I'm sure Lord and Lady Montague would wish all their guests to enjoy themselves.
Perhaps Miss Moulton would like a dance? That would not be appropriate, professionally speaking.
Oh.
Is she a patient of yours? No.
She She knows Sir Charles, that's all.
Ah.
I hope you manage to have some fun.
Done a sweep.
Nothing to report.
But we've checked your list of those aware of Sir Charles' attendance.
It turns out Lord Finchmore has a record.
Drunk-and-disorderly, assault.
Fisticuffs over cards, I believe.
Ancient history.
Then there's Miss Moulton.
Don't mind me.
Sent down from Oxford University for ill-advised acts of protest in support of the Mau Mau.
Ah.
Sir Charles is sending further troops to Kenya.
Perhaps Miss Moulton wishes to scare him into changing his mind.
Erm Excuse me, gentlemen.
I should check on our guests.
Just had word from Special Branch, Sir.
Storm's getting worse.
Their officers are stuck outside Kiddington.
Then it's lucky for them I have everything under control.
I went to check on Charles.
The door's locked.
He's not answering.
I'll be hauled over the coals for this.
- The Inspector says you shouldn't - He's my husband! Sorry, sir.
I've given Lady Hakeworth a sedative.
She's sleeping.
Cause of death? Sir Charles was strangled.
Or garrotted, to be precise.
Well, there wasn't much sign of a struggle.
A strong man could've rendered him unconscious in seconds.
Of course, it was only a superficial assessment.
If you require a more thorough examination Do it.
I need answers.
I should make an announcement.
Ah.
If people learn there's been a murder they may panic and try to leave.
Hate to say it, but the padre's right.
That cordon breaks, the killer vanishes.
Best keep silent.
What about interviewing witnesses? Well, there's no rush.
We'll check for fingerprints, secure the crime scene, wait for Special Branch.
Do something for me, Father? Find the devil who did this.
Any indication of what was used to strangle the victim? Hard to say.
A cord, a rope? A dog collar.
Oh, wait, it's none of your business! No sign of a weapon, sir.
But this was in a bin down the corridor.
The murderer must've locked the door behind them then disposed of the key.
Probably to delay the body being found.
Looks like there's a fingerprint, though.
Only a partial one, mind, but I'll get it looked at.
Good work, Sergeant.
Talking of fingerprints, have you seen Sir Charles' fingers? Abrasions, from where he tried to remove the ligature, perhaps? Quite possibly.
Downstairs he was unwell.
Between us, he'd been drinking since we first arrived.
Whisky.
Brought his own.
So where is it? I require acetone for cleaning my medical equipment, so I don't contaminate the body.
With your permission, I know who may have some.
Be discreet.
And you, Padre.
"Abrasions from where he tried to remove the ligature"? I've been reading Kerr's Guide to Forensic Medicine, sir.
You see, I was thinking of taking my inspector's exams.
Sorry, I thought you were j Your inspector's exams? I'd hoped for your blessing, sir, but Stupid of me.
Just forget I said anything, sir.
Right.
Well, I need you to start taking the fingerprints from the guests.
Say it's an additional security measure.
Yes, sir.
What on earth is the matter? I'm leaving Monty.
No, no.
You can't mean that.
What has bought all this on? Someone.
An, ah An acquaintance A man.
.
.
has asked me to elope.
So not exactly an acquaintance, then? I said no, but in truth I'm Tempted by his Gallic charms? You knew? I had my suspicions.
Then I saw his handwriting on the envelope.
Wait a minute.
You You can't mean Flambeau? I know! But I can't deny there's something between us.
He's so exciting, and handsome and And an immoral, deceitful thief.
Well, at least Hercule treasures me.
Monty may have loved me once, but now he's as passionate and demonstrative as a biscuit! Anyway I thought Flambeau had gone to America? He's been writing to me.
And now he's sent an aeroplane ticket so that I can join him.
Have you told Lord Montague you're unhappy? I shouldn't have to! Sometimes we don't notice that which we see every day.
Excuse me for changing the subject, but I wondered if you'd join Bunty and I in the kitchen downstairs.
I need your assistance.
I would ask Sid as well, but he seems to have vanished.
Well, that can wait.
Whatever it is, it is far more important that you talk some sense into her head Sir Charles Hakeworth is dead.
What? How? Well, I was rather hoping you'd help me to find out.
Why can't you just leave it to the police? It will take hours to compare all the fingerprints of the guests, and the murderer might escape.
And we've no idea what was used to strangle Sir Charles? Except that it scratched his fingertips as he fought to remove it.
So we know the how and the where, but not the who, the why or the with what? Indeed.
Only Lord Finchmore, Miss Moulton, Lady Hakeworth and Dr Muthomi knew that Sir Charles would be here.
Bunty, you know Miss Moulton? A little.
I saw her talking to Lord Finchmore earlier.
Check whether they can give each other an alibi for the time of Sir Charles' death.
Will do.
I will talk to the staff to see if Dr Muthomi left after Sir Charles from the ballroom.
The doctor's hardly going to kill his own patient, is he? Not just a patient.
His father-figure who refused to acknowledge him as his legal child.
What about Lady Hakeworth? She had an opportunity when she went to check on Sir Charles.
Opportunity, yes.
Motive, no.
I don't mind mingling with the guests, - pick up any gossip.
- Mm-hm! In order to bring a murderer to justice! Thank you, Mrs McCarthy.
What shall I do? Look for Sid? Perhaps you should look to your husband first.
Once more unto the breach? Father? There is someone else I need to ask for help.
Oh.
Sid? I feel sick.
One over the eight? Just the one, full stop.
Single malt.
And something else.
Where did you find this? It's important.
Oh Well, I decided the ball wasn't for me so I went upstairs.
I saw someone stashing that in a cupboard and I thought, "Must be decent if they're going to the trouble of hiding it.
" Did you see their face? Nah.
They were wearing a mask.
Red skull.
The Red Death.
Bunty! Seeking respite from the madding crowd? I was just hoping to have a moment with Ruth.
- I'll get some more Champagne.
- Hm.
Only a bit of fun.
No other men at this party worth talking to.
Oh, well, don't let me stop you.
I just wanted to tell you something.
Please be discreet about it.
Sir Charles is dead.
Dead? How? Strangled.
Well, Robert and I have been together the whole time.
Are you certain of that? Yes.
And a good thing for Robert.
He's never hidden the fact that he loathes Sir Charles.
Do you know why? It may help find the killer.
All I know is he blames Sir Charles for his father's death.
Sounds like a motive to me.
But if Robert's innocent, he has nothing to fear.
They found a fingerprint.
Miss Moulton, you're here.
Did you bring acetone for removing nail varnish? I need some for my work.
If it's no bother.
Ah, yes.
I'll fetch some now.
And as you say, Robert has nothing to fear.
About what? Sir Charles has been murdered.
I I wanted to apologise.
I've been vile to you all evening.
No, no, no.
No, you've been under a lot of pressure, getting everything ready and Well, it's more than that.
You must know I I haven't been happy for a For a very long time.
Must I? Perhaps, yes.
So What are you saying? Well, how do you feel? About me.
Feel about you? You're my wife! And? Let's not get into this right now, hm? We'll talk later, I promise.
So you think Sir Charles was drugged? Whatever was in that decanter knocked Sid for six.
I had to make him a very strong cup of coffee.
The use of medication rather points at Dr Muthomi.
Nobody saw the doctor leave the ballroom but that doesn't prove he didn't slip out unnoticed.
Did you speak to Miss Moulton? Yes.
Apparently Robert blames Sir Charles for his father's death.
But Ruth insists they were together the whole time.
Well, that is very odd, because one of the guests told me that Lord Finchmore and Lady Hakeworth were seen arguing on the landing.
How dare you?! You're a disgrace to your family name, spreading these lies.
Your precious husband's not the saint you think he is.
Should I tell you how my father found out? Perhaps what Lady Hakeworth found out about her husband drove her to murder? So where was Ruth during all this? - Oh.
- heaven only knows.
That young woman spells trouble.
And Lady Hakeworth has been saying as much to anyone who'll listen.
What did Ruth do to her? Well, apparently Miss Moulton turned up at their house, uninvited, making a fuss over some petition about Kenya.
Oh, Sir Charles quite rightly sent her packing.
Murder! Oh! What happened? I I came to fetch some acetone for Dr Muthomi.
And that thing was in here.
He had a knife.
Fetch the doctor.
Quickly.
I'm scared, Father.
God is with you.
And so am I.
The doctor says she's in grave danger.
Just pray that help arrives soon.
You saw the culprit? He was wearing the Red Death mask.
If Miss Moulton was getting acetone for Dr Muthomi, where was he? He was with me.
Lady Hakeworth! We didn't realise you were awake.
I heard the commotion.
Dr Muthomi was in your room? I cried out in my sleep.
He came to my aid.
Have you caught my husband's murderer yet? Our investigations are ongoing, your ladyship.
Lady Hakeworth, what did Lord Finchmore accuse your husband of doing? You were seen arguing with him.
He made the baseless claim that Charles had a liaison with Lord Finchmore's mother, prompting his father's suicide.
Whoever killed Sir Charles, why would they want to attack that young lady? There must be a connection.
Lady Hakeworth, is it true that Miss Moulton visited your home? Oh, yes.
Brandishing her petition.
Which Sir Charles rejected? Naturally.
When that failed, she tried her feminine wiles.
Which were also rejected, might I add.
Miss Moulton made advances on? The moment she got Charles alone.
If you don't believe me, ask Dr Muthomi.
He saw her scurrying off with her tail between her legs.
Oh, Sidney, how are you feeling now? Like a hedgehog's nesting in my skull.
And then there were three.
Lady Hakeworth, Dr Muthomi, or Lord Finchmore? Well, it has to be Lord Finchmore.
He's keen on Miss Moulton, finds out she threw herself at Sir Charles, and attacks them both in a jealous rage.
But until today, Robert hadn't seen Ruth in years.
And the death threat was sent hours earlier.
What if we accept Lord Finchmore's claim that Sir Charles was an adulterer? A young, attractive woman turns up at his house uninvited and leaves in tears.
What are you saying, Father? That it wasn't her that threw herself at him? You think he assaulted her? No, but Miss Moulton can't be the Red Death because you saw the killer running from her room while she was still inside.
But what if someone else got revenge on her behalf? The only witness to Sir Charles' crime.
The doctor, you mean? If that were true, why then stab Ruth? Um I feel like I let Lady F down.
It was hardly your fault.
But I shouldn't be pilfering other people's whisky, should I? If that's how you feel, it's not too late to make amends.
How did it go with? Monty couldn't offer me one word of affection.
I rather think we've reached the end of the road.
With permission, I'd like to accompany her to the hospital.
She's lost a lot of blood.
I'd like that.
- Perhaps I could escort them, sir? - Very well.
Go with her.
Before you leave, Doctor Muthomi, might I trouble you for a painkiller? Headache.
No time, Father.
- Surely you must have some in your bag? - We must go.
Open your bag, I insist! Thought you'd sneak past the cordon in the ambulance, did you? He deserved it! After him! Get her to the hospital.
Don't worry.
He won't get away.
Just remember what I taught you.
I'll do my best.
So, who's it going to be? Ah, Mathilda Pitcher, she's a sweetheart.
Lily Mansfield? Lily's a bit of a handful.
Nah.
I know just the girl for me.
Who? Mrs M, will you do me the honour? Oh, Sidney! Well, that would be lovely.
Sidney, you're quite the dancer! Oh! That was my shin.
Yeah, well, Rome wasn't built in a day, Mrs M.
Would you like to dance? Who knows when we'll have another opportunity? You know, Sidney, you're quite wrong.
You are the perfect gentleman! Goodfellow, search the back of the room.
Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.
This is urgent police business.
Please remove your masks.
Immediately! The escape's surrounded, Doctor.
There is no escape! - Inspector! - Dr Muthomi, I'm arresting you for - Oh, get off me! - Let me go or she dies.
I need to have a word with the patient.
I had to see you again, to make sure.
Sure of what? Your wound -- it isn't real, is it? Dr Muthomi faked it with blood from his arm.
Don't be ridiculous.
Look at me! I am.
I saw men with wounds like that in the Great War.
The blood kept coming until they were drenched.
Yours is beginning to dry.
At first, I thought that Doctor Muthomi stabbed you so that he could escape in the ambulance.
But why stab the woman that he was avenging? Now I know that it was you who is trying to escape.
Think about this.
Walk out of here or I kill her and take my chances.
Your choice.
- No, you can go.
But not with her.
- She's my protection.
Elliot, please! Don't do this.
Take me, instead.
I won't struggle, you have my word.
- Monty, no.
- I'm not going to stand here and let him take you away from me.
Me for her.
You and I leave together.
- No tricks? - I swear it.
Don't do this.
If you go with him, he'll kill you as soon as you're out the door.
- Better me than her.
- Monty? Felicia, I love you.
I adore you.
I always have.
- I'm sorry I didn't tell you more often.
- Oh, no! Do what I say.
And why, of all the people here, did he seek you out to ask for acetone? Unless he knew that you were the murderer and he wanted to warn you that the police had found your fingerprint? I'm hardly capable of murdering a man with my bare hands! You didn't use your bare hands.
Sir Charles' fingertips were scratched as he fought to free himself.
And upstairs .
.
I found these, and I remembered the jewels on your belt.
The murder weapon was hiding in plain sight.
No! God is watching you, Ruth, and he knows what happened.
And so do I.
Sir Charles invited me into his study.
Said he was interested in what I had to say.
Then he came closer.
The stench of whisky on his breath.
I tried to fight him off, but I couldn't sleep for weeks.
I could barely breathe.
Then I heard he was coming tonight.
And I knew it would be my only chance.
Then why the death threat? Why warn him he was in danger? A man like that .
.
I wanted him to know what it was like to be afraid.
And the sedative in his whisky? So he'd be too weak to fight back.
When they found Sir Charles' body, the doctor came to me, like you said.
Told me I had to escape.
But they would only let you through the cordon if they thought your life was in danger.
I thought, if I killed him, it would make the pain stop.
I can only imagine the pain you have suffered.
But you must search your heart.
Dr Muthomi risked everything to help you escape.
Can you let him hang for the murder you committed? I won't hurt you.
Now walk.
You can't trust a word he says.
He stabbed a young woman.
He murdered the Minister of Defence.
He did neither! I killed Sir Charles.
I'm the Red Death.
Why? Because he rejected you? No.
Because he thought his power and privilege meant he could take whatever he wanted.
That he could live without consequence.
He was wrong.
But Father Brown saw the Red Death running from your bedroom while you were still inside.
That was Doctor Muthomi.
It was a ploy to prove that Miss Moulton wasn't the Red Death.
He gave me the slip, and then hid in the room where Lady Hakeworth was sleeping.
Is that not so, Doctor? I knew what Sir Charles did and I said nothing, to my eternal shame.
None of this is your fault.
You only tried to help me.
But it's over now, so .
.
please, let Lord Montague go.
Forgive me, Lord Montague, Lady Felicia.
I'd never harm you.
Father, why have they arrested the doctor? I told them it was me.
Helping you try to escape made him an accessory after the fact.
It was my choice.
I'm only sorry I did not act sooner.
What should I do? Tell the truth.
And pray.
Pray? A little late for that.
It's never too late.
Forgiveness and love are always there for you.
You wish for me to repent, but I can't be sorry that man is dead.
Do not let him cast a shadow over the rest of your life.
God will show you the light if you let him in.
Come on.
Wait! I knew what he was, deep down.
I wouldn't let myself see it.
I want you to know I believe you.
At times like this, one must be grateful for what one has.
So, my friends, my family, with the New Year nearly upon us, I wish you all love and kindness.
To 1954.
Thank you for inviting me.
Most fun I've had in ages! Offering to sacrifice yourself like that, it's awfully brave.
If only I'd shown a bit of backbone years ago.
What would you have done? Talked.
About the children that never came, the pain it caused.
Instead I let it tear us apart.
We both did.
So, what now? I only ever wanted you to fight for me.
For us.
I will, I swear it.
Every single day.
There are, um, things I must tell you.
Things I've done.
It's New Year's Eve.
How about we concentrate on the future? You should take those exams.
Really, sir? Thank you.
Why the change of heart? You're a good copper.
Truth is we need more inspectors like you.
I only hesitated because I've got used to having you around.
It'll take some time, sir.
I'm not the quickest learner, so you'll have to put up with me for a little while yet.
I'll cope, Goodfellow.
I'll cope.
Well, that was an experience! Next year, I say we hit The Red Lion for a few quiet pints instead.
At least the storm seems to have passed.
Poor Ruth.
What will happen to her? We'll pray the courts show mercy.
I thought you might be able auction that off at the next fete.
A one-way ticket to New York? There must be one member of the congregation you'd like to see the back of? On behalf of the church roof restoration fund, I thank you.
- I thank you.
- Right, are we all met? Yes.
- Oh! - Aha.
Five .
.
four, three, two, one.
Happy New Year!