Doctor Who (2005–…): Season 4, Episode 7 - The Unicorn and the Wasp - full transcript

Oh, smell that air.

Grass and lemonade
and a little bit of mint.

Just a hint of mint,
it must be the 1920's.

You can tell what year it is,
just by smelling?

Oh, yeah.

Or maybe that big vintage car,
coming up the drive, gave it away.

The professor's luggage,
Richard, step lively.

- Good afternoon, Professor Peach.
- Hello, Greeves, old man.

- Ah, Reverend.
- Professor Peach. Beautiful day.

Lord's in his heaven,
all's right with the world.

Reverend Golightly.



Lady Eddison requests that you make
yourselves comfortable in your rooms.

Cocktails will be
served on the lawn from half past four.

You go on up. I need to check
something in the library.

- Oh?
- Alone.

It's supposed to be a party.
All this work'll be the death of you.

Never mind planet Zog! A party
in the 1920's, that's more like it.

Trouble is,
we haven't been invited.

Oh, I forgot. Yes, we have.

I was right.

Kept secret all these years.
It's unbelievable.

But why didn't they ask...
Heavens.

Oh, it's you.
I was just doing a little research.

I say, what are you
doing with that lead piping?

That's impossible.



No! No!

We'll be late for cocktails.

What do you think,
flapper or slapper?

Flapper. You look lovely.

Look sharp. We have guests.

- Good afternoon.
- Drinks, sir, ma'am?

- A sidecar, please.
- And a lime soda. Thank you.

May I announce
Lady Clemency Eddison.

Lady Eddison.

Forgive me,
but who exactly might you be?

- And what are you doing here?
- I'm the Doctor

and this is Miss Donna Noble,
of the Chiswick Nobles.

Good afternoon, my lady.
Topping day, what? Spiffing. Top hole.

No, no, no, no, no.
No, don't do that. Don't.

We were thrilled to receive
your invitation, milady.

We met at the
Ambassador's reception.

Doctor,
how could I forget you?

But one must be sure
with the Unicorn on the loose.

A unicorn? Brilliant. Where?

The Unicorn. A jewel thief
and nobody knows who he is.

He's just struck again.

Snatched Lady
Babington's pearls right from under her nose.

- Funny place to wear pearls.
- May I announce

the Colonel Hugh Curbishley,
the Honourable Roger Curbishley.

My
husband and my son.

Forgive me for not rising.

Never been the same ever since
that 'flu epidemic back in '18.

My word. You are a super lady.

Oh, I like
the colour of yourjib. Chin-chin.

- Hello, I'm the Doctor.
- How do you do?

- Very well.
- Your usual, sir?

Thank you, Davenport.
Just how I like it.

How come she's an Eddison,
but her husband and son are Curbishleys?

The Eddison title descends through
her. One day, Roger will be a Lord.

Robina Redmond.

She's the absolute hit
of the social scene, a must.

- Miss Redmond.
- Spiffing to meet you at last, milady.

- Reverend Arnold Golightly.
- Ah, Reverend. How are you?

I heard about the church
last Thursday night.

- Those ruffians breaking in.
- You apprehended them, I hear.

As the Christian fathers taught me, we must
forgive them their trespasses,

quite literally.

Some of these young boys
deserve a decent thrashing.

Couldn't agree more, sir.

Typical.
All the decent men are on the other bus.

- Or Time Lords.
- Now, milady,

what about the special guest
you promised us?

Here she is.
A lady who needs no introduction.

No, no, please don't.

Thank you, Lady Eddison,
but, honestly, there is no need.

- Agatha Christie.
- What about her?

- That's me.
- No. You're kidding.

Agatha Christie.
I was just talking about you the other day.

I said, "I bet she's
brilliant". I'm the Doctor, this is Donna.

Oh! I love your stuff.
What a mind.

You fool me every time.
Well, almost every time.

Well, once or twice.
Well, once. But it was a good once.

You make
a rather unusual couple.

- Oh, no, we're not married.
- No, we're not a couple.

Well, obviously not.
No wedding ring.

- Oh. You don't miss a trick.
- And I'd stay that way, if I were you.

The thrill is in the chase,
never in the capture.

Mrs Christie,
I'm so glad you could come.

I'm one of your greatest
followers. I've read all six of your books.

- Is Mr Christie not joining us?
- Is he needed?

Can't a woman
make her own way in the world?

Don't give my wife ideas.

Now, Mrs Christie,
I have a question.

- Why a Belgian detective?
- Excuse me, Colonel.

Belgians make
such lovely buns.

Say, where on Earth's Professor Peach? He'd
love to meet Mrs Christie.

He said he was
going to the library.

Miss Chandrakala, would you go
and collect the Professor?

- At once, milady.
- The date on this newspaper...

What about it?

It's the day
Agatha Christie disappeared.

Professor Peach?

Professor?

She just discovered
her husband was having an affair.

You'd never
think to look at her, smiling away.

Well. She's British, moneyed.
That's what they do. They carry on.

Except for this one time.

No one knows
exactly what happened, she just vanished.

Her car will be found tomorrow
morning, by the side of a lake.

Ten days later, Agatha Christie turns
up at a hotel in Harrogate.

And she'd lost her memory.

She never spoke
about the disappearance till the day she died.

- But whatever it was...
- It's about to happen.

Right here, right now.

Professor!
The library! Murder! Murder!

Goodness.

Bashed on the head.
Blunt instrument.

Watch broke as he fell.
Time of death was quarter past four.

A bit of pipe.

Call me Hercule Poirot,
but I reckon that's blunt enough.

Nothing worth
killing for in that lot. Dry as dust.

Doctor,
the body in the library.

I mean, Professor Peach,
in the library, with a lead piping.

EDDISON: Let me see.
Out of my way.

Gerald.

- Someone should call the police.
- You don't have to.

Chief Inspector Smith,
from Scotland Yard, known as the Doctor.

Miss Noble is
the plucky young girl who helps me out.

- I say.
- Mrs Christie was right.

Go into the sitting room.
I will question each of you in turn.

Come along, do as the Doctor
says. Keep the room undisturbed.

"The plucky young girl
who helps me out?"

No policewomen in 1926.

I'll pluck you in a minute.
Why don't we phone the real police?

Oh, the last thing we want
is PC Plod sticking his nose in.

Especially,
now I've found this.

- Morphic residue.
- Morphic? Doesn't sound very 1926.

It has left behind
a return species' genetic immune code.

The murderer's an alien.

Which means one of that lot
is a alien in human form.

Yeah, but think about it.

There's a murder,
a mystery and Agatha Christie.

So?
Happens to me all the time.

No.
But isn't that a bit weird?

Agatha Christie didn't go
around surrounded by murders, not really.

I mean, that's like
meeting Charles Dickens

and he's surrounded by ghosts
at Christmas.

- Well...
- Oh, come on.

It's not like we could
drive across country

and find Enid Blyton
having tea with Noddy.

Could we? Noddy's not real. Is
he? Tell me there's no Noddy.

There's no Noddy.

Next thing you know,
you'll be telling me

it's like Murder on
the Orient Express, and they all did it.

- Murder on the Orient Express?
- Oh, yeah, one of the best.

But not yet.

- Marvellous idea, though.
- Yeah.

Tell you what,
copyright, Donna Noble. Okay?

Anyway, Agatha and I
will question the suspects.

Donna,
you search the bedrooms, look for clues.

Any more residues. You'll need this.

- Is that for real.
- Go on, you're ever so plucky.

Right, then, solving a murder
mystery with Agatha Christie. Brilliant.

How like a man to have fun
while there is disaster all around him.

- Sorry, yeah.
- I'll work with you, gladly.

But for the sake ofjustice,
not your own amusement.

Now, then, Reverend,
where were you at a quarter past four?

Let me think.

Why, yes, I remember.

I was unpacking in my room.

No alibi, then?
You were alone?

With the Lord
one is never truly alone.

- Doctor?
- And where were you?

Let me think, I was...

Oh, yes, I was taking a constitutional in the
fields behind the house.

Just taking a stroll,
that's all.

- Alone?
- Oh, yes. All alone, totally alone.

Absolutely alone. Completely.
All of the time.

I wandered lonely
as the proverbial cloud.

There was no one else with me.
Not at all. Not ever.

- And, where were you?
- At a quarter past four?

Well, I went to the toilet
when I arrived, and then...

Oh, yes, I remember.
I was preparing myself.

Positively
buzzing with excitement about the party

and the super fun of
meeting Lady Eddie.

We've only
got your word for it.

That's your problem, not mine.

And, where were you, sir?

Quarter past four?
Dear me! Let me think.

Ah, yes, I remember.

I was in me study,
reading through some military memoirs.

Fascinating stuff.

Took me back to me
days in the army. Started reminiscing.

Mafeking... Terrible war.

Colonel, snap out of it.

- I was in me study.
- No, no, no, right out of it.

Oh, sorry.
Got a bit carried away there.

And where were you
at a quarter past four, milady?

Now, let me see.

Yes, I remember.
I was sitting in the blue room,

taking my afternoon tea.
It's a ritual of mine.

I needed to gather strength
for the duty of hostess.

I then proceeded to the lawn,
where I met you, Doctor,

and I said, "And who exactly
might you be and what were you doing here?"

And you said, "I am the Doctor
and this is Miss Donna Noble..."

Yes, yes, you can stop now.
I was there for that bit.

Of course.

Excuse me.

No alibis for any of them.

Secret adversary
remains hidden.

We must look for a motive.
Use the little, grey cells.

Oh, yes. Little, grey cells.
Good ol' Poirot.

You know,
I've been to Belgium, yeah.

I remember.

I was deep in the Ardennes,
trying to find Charlemagne.

He'd been kidnapped
by an insane computer.

Doctor! Doctor!

Sorry.

- Charlemagne lived centuries ago.
- I've got a very good memory.

For such an experience,
Detective, you missed a big clue.

What, that bit of paper
you nicked out of the fire?

- You were looking the other way.
- Yeah,

but I saw you reflected
in the glass of the bookcase.

You crafty man.

This is all that was left.

What's that first letter, "N" or "M"?

It's an "M".
The word is "maiden".

Maiden! What does that mean?

We're still
no further forward.

Our nemesis remains at large.
Unless Miss Noble's found something.

You won't find anything.

- How come it's locked?
- Lady Eddison commands it to be so.

And I command it
to be otherwise. Scotland Yard. Pip, pip.

Why was it locked
in the first place?

Many years ago,
when my father was butler to the family,

Lady Eddison returned
from India with malaria.

She locked herself in this room for six
months until she recovered.

Since then,
the room has remained undisturbed.

There's nothing in here.

- How long has it been empty?
- Forty years.

Why did she seal it off?

All right,
I need to investigate. You just buttle off.

1926, they've still got bees.

Oh, what noise.
All right, busy bee, I'll let you out. Hold on.

I shall find you
with my amazing powers of detection.

It's impossible.

Doctor!

Doctor!

There is a giant wasp.

- What do you mean a giant wasp?
- I mean, a wasp that's giant.

It's only a silly,
little insect.

When I say giant,
I don't mean big.

I mean flipping enormous!
Look at its sting.

Let me see.

It's gone. Buzzed off.

But that's fascinating.

Don't, don't...
Don't touch it, don't touch it. Let me.

A giant wasp?

Well, tons of amorphous,
insectivorous life forms,

but none in this
galactic vector.

I think I understood
some of those words.

Enough to know
that you're completely potty.

Lost its sting.
Now, that makes it defenceless.

A creature this size
got to be able to grow a new one.

Uh, can we return to sanity?
There are no such things as giant wasps.

Exactly, so...
Question is, what's it doing here?

A murder? That's put the cat
among the pigeons and no mistake.

It is not the stuff
of gossip, Mrs Hart. Continue with your work.

But, who'd want to do in
the old Professor?

He was always asking questions
about that book of his.

- What was all that about?
- A dead man's folly, nothing more.

Perhaps, if he asked about...

I must go and see milady.

The poor, little child.

There!

Come on!

This makes a change.
There's a monster and we're chasing it.

Every monster has a trick.
They do it with mirrors.

Oh, my God, that's holy.

Oh. Well, you are wonderful.

Now, just stop. Stop there.

Oi, fly boy.

Don't let it get away!
Quick, before it reverts back to human form!

Where are you? Come on.
There's nowhere to run. Show yourself.

Oh.

That's just cheating.

My faithful companion.
This is terrible.

Excuse me, milady.
She was on her way to tell you something.

She never found me.

She had an appointment
with death instead.

She said, "The poor, little child". Does that
mean anything to anyone?

No children in this house
for years. Highly unlikely there will be any.

Mrs Christie, you must have
twigged something.

You've written simply
the best detective stories.

Tell us, what would Poirot do?

Heaven's sake, cards on the table,
woman. You should be helping us.

- But...I'm merely a writer.
- But surely you can crack it.

These events are exactly
like one your plots.

That's what I've been saying.
Agatha, that's gotta mean something.

But what?
I've no answers, none.

I'm sorry, all of you.
I'm truly sorry, but I've failed.

If anyone can help us,
then it's the Doctor, not me.

Do you know what I think?

Those books of yours, one day,
they could turn them into films.

- They could be talking pictures.
- Talking pictures?

Pictures that talk.
What do you mean?

Oh, blimey,
I've done it again.

I appreciate you're
trying to be kind, but you are right.

These murders are like my own creations. It's
as though someone's mocking me.

And I've had enough scorn
for one lifetime.

Yeah. The thing is,
I had this bloke once.

I was engaged and I loved him.
I really did.

Turns out,
he was lying through his teeth.

But you know what? I moved on.

I was lucky.
I found the Doctor. He's changed my life.

- There's always someone else.
- I see.

- Is my marriage the stuff of gossip now?
- No, I just... I'm sorry.

No matter,
the stories are true.

I found my husband
with another woman.

A younger, prettier woman.
Isn't it always the way?

Well, mine was with a giant
spider, but, same difference.

You and the Doctor talk
such wonderful nonsense.

Agatha,
people love your books. They really do.

They're gonna be reading them
for years to come.

If only. Try as I might,
it's hardly great literature.

That's beyond me.
I'm afraid my books will be forgotten,

like ephemera.

Hello, what's that?

Those flowerbeds
were perfectly neat earlier.

Now some of
the stalks are bent over.

There you go.
Who'd ever notice that? You're brilliant.

Oh!
Someone came here tooled up.

This is the sort of stuff
a thief would use.

- The Unicorn, he's here.
- The Unicorn and the wasp.

- Your drinks, ladies. Doctor.
- Very good, Greeves.

How about the science stuff,
what did you find?

Hmm. Vespiform sting.

Vespiforms have got hives
in the Silfrax Galaxy.

Again,
you talk like Edward Lear.

For some reason, this one's behaving like a
character in one of your books.

Come on, Agatha,
what would Miss Marple do?

She'd have overheard
something vital by now,

because the murderer thinks
she's just a harmless old lady.

Clever idea.

Miss Marple, who writes those?

Copyright Donna Noble.
Add it to the list.

- Donna.
- Okay, we could split the copyright.

No. Something's
inhibiting my enzymes.

I've been poisoned.

What do we do? What do we do?

It runs. It's cyanide.
Sparkling cyanide.

- Ginger beer!
- I beg you pardon?

- I need ginger beer.
- The gentleman has gone mad!

I'm an expert in poisons,
Doctor. There's no cure.

It's fatal.

Not for me. I can stimulate
the inhibited enzymes into reversal.

Protein. I need protein.

- Walnuts?
- Bring it.

Can't understand you.
How many words?

One. One word. Shake! Milk!
Shake! Milk! Milk! No, not milk!

Um, shake, shake, shake!

Cocktail shake!
You want a Harvey Wallbanger!

- Harvey Wallbanger?
- Well, I don't know!

How is Harvey
Wallbanger one word!

- What do you need, Doctor?
- Salt!

I was miming salt.
Salt, I need something salty!

- What about this?
- What is it?

- Salt!
- That's too salty.

- Oh, that's too salty.
- What about this?

- Mmm...
- What's that?

- Anchovies.
- What is it? What else?

Um, it's a song! "Mammy"?

- I don't know! Camptown Races.
- Camptown Races?

All right, then.
Towering Inferno!

It's a shock! Look, shock.
I need a shock!

All right,
then, big shock, coming up.

Detox! Oh!

I must do that more often.
I mean the...the detox.

Doctor, you are impossible.
Who are you?

Terrible day for all of us.
The professor struck down.

Miss Chandrakala cruelly taken from
us. And yet we still take dinner.

We are British, Doctor.

What else must we do?

And then someone
tried to poison me.

Any one of you had the chance
to put cyanide in my drink.

- But it rather gave me an idea.
- And what would that be?

Well, poison.

Drink up.

I've laced the soup
with pepper.

Mmm.
I thought it was jolly spicy.

But the active
ingredient of pepper is piperine.

Traditionally used
as an insecticide.

Oh! Anyone got the shivers?

- What the deuce...
- Listen, listen, listen.

No, it can't be.

- Show yourself, demon.
- Nobody move.

Oh, no. Stay where you are!

Out, out, out, out, now!

I'll cover you, Agatha.
You've got a long, long life to lead yet.

Well, we know
the butler didn't do it.

Then, who did?

My jewellery! The Firestone!
It's gone! Stolen!

Roger.

My son... My child!

That poor footman!

Roger is dead
and he can't even mourn him.

1926,
it's more like the Dark Ages.

Did you inquire
after the necklace?

Lady Eddison brought
it back from India. It's worth thousands.

This thing can sting,
it can fly.

It could wipe us
all out in seconds. Why is playing this game?

Every murder is
essentially the same.

They're committed
because somebody wants something.

- What does a Vespiform want?
- Doctor, stop it.

The murderer is as
human as you or I.

You're right.

Oh, I've been so caught up
with giant wasps,

I'd forgotten
you're the expert.

I'm not, I've told you.
I'm just a purveyor of nonsense.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

'Cause plenty of people
write detective stories, but yours are the best.

Why? Why are you so good,
Agatha Christie?

Because you understand.
You've lived.

You've fought,
you've had your heart broken.

You know about people.

Their passions, their hope and
despair and anger, all of those tiny,

huge things that can turn
the most ordinary person into a killer.

Just think, Agatha.
If anyone can solve this, it's you.

I've called you here,
on this endless night,

because we have
a murderer in our midst.

And when it
comes to detection, there's none finer.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I give you Agatha Christie.

This is a crooked house.
A house of secrets.

To understand the solution,
we must examine them all.

Starting with you,
Miss Redmond.

- But I'm innocent, surely.
- You've never met these people.

And these people
have never met you.

I think the real
Robina Redmond never left London.

You're impersonating her.

How silly.
What proof do you have?

You said you'd
been to the toilet...

Oh, I know this.
If she was really posh she'd say loo.

Earlier today,
Miss Noble and I found this on the lawn,

right beneath
your bathroom window.

You must've heard
that Miss Noble was searching the bedroom,

so you panicked.

You ran upstairs
and disposed of the evidence.

I've never seen that thing
before in my life.

- What's inside it?
- The tools of your trade, Miss Redmond.

Or should I say...the Unicorn?

You came to this house
with one sole intention,

to steal the Firestone.

Oh, all right, then.
It's a fair cop...

Yes, I'm the bleeding Unicorn.
Ever so nice to meet you, I don't think.

I took my chance in the dark
and nabbed it.

Go on, then, you nobs.

Arrest me. Sling me in jail.

- So, is she the murderer?
- Don't be so thick.

I might be a thief,
but I ain't no killer.

Quite. There are darker motives at work and
in examining this household,

we come to you,

Colonel.

Damn it, woman.
You with your perspicacity.

You've rumbled me.

You can walk!

But why?

My darling, how else could I be
certain of keeping you by my side?

I don't understand.

You're still
a beautiful woman, Clemency.

Sooner or later,
some chap will turn your head.

I couldn't bear that.

Staying in the chair was the only way I could
be certain of keeping you.

Confounded Mrs Christie!
How did you discover the truth?

Um, actually I had no idea.

I was just going to say
you were completely innocent.

- Oh!
- Sorry.

- Uh, shall I sit down, then?
- I think you better had.

- So, he's not the murderer?
- Indeed not.

To find the truth,
let's return

to this.

Far more than the Unicorn's
object of desire.

The Firestone has
quite a history.

- Lady Eddison...
- I've done nothing.

You brought it
back from India, did you not?

Before you met the Colonel.

You came home with malaria

and confined
yourself to this house for six months

in a room that has been
kept locked ever since.

- Which I rather think means...
- Stop, please.

I'm so sorry,
but you had fallen pregnant in India.

Unmarried and ashamed, you hurried back to
England with your confidante,

a young maid, later to become
housekeeper, Miss Chandrakala.

Clemency, is this true?

My poor baby.
I had to give him away. The shame of it.

But you've never said a word.

EDDISON: I had no choice.
Imagine the scandal.

The family name.
I'm British, I carry on.

And it was no
ordinary pregnancy.

How can you know that?

Excuse me,
Agatha, this is my territory.

But when you heard that
buzzing sound in the dining room,

you said, "It can't be".

- Why did you say that?
- You'd never believe it.

The Doctor has opened my mind
to believe many things.

It was 40 years ago,
in the heat of Delhi late one night.

I was alone and that's when I saw
it: a dazzling light in the sky.

The next day he
came to the house.

Christopher,
the most handsome man I'd ever seen.

Our love blazed
like a wildfire.

I held nothing back.

And in return,

he showed me
an incredible truth about himself.

He'd made himself human
to learn about us.

This was his true shape.

I loved him so much,
it didn't matter. But he was stolen from me.

1885, the year of
the great monsoon,

the river Jamuna rose up
and broke its banks.

He was taken with the flood.

But Christopher
left me a parting gift, a jewel like no other.

I wore it always,
part of me never forgot.

I kept it close...

Always.

Just like a man.

Flashes his family jewels
and you end up with a bun in the oven.

A poor little child.

Forty years ago, Miss Chandrakala took
that newborn baby to an orphanage.

But Professor Peach
worked it out. He found the birth certificate.

- Oh, that's maiden. Maiden name.
- Precisely.

- So, she killed him.
- I did not!

Miss Chandrakala feared that
the Professor had unearthed your secret.

She was coming to warn you.

- So, she killed her.
- I did not!

Lady Eddison is innocent.

Because at this point...

Doctor.

Thank you! At this point, when
we consider the lies and the secrets

that are key to these events,

then we have to consider
it was you, Donna Noble.

What? What did I kill?

No, but you said it all along,
the vital clue,

that this whole thing is being acted
out like a murder mystery.

Which means, it was you,
Agatha Christie.

I beg your pardon, sir?

- So, she killed them?
- No, but she wrote.

She wrote those brilliant,
clever books and who is her greatest admirer?

The moving finger
points at you...

- Lady Eddison.
- Oh, leave me alone.

- So, she did kill them.
- No.

But just think.
Last Thursday night, what were you doing?

Uh, I was,
uh, I was in the library.

I was reading my favourite
Agatha Christie,

thinking about her plots
and how clever she must be.

- How is that relevant?
- Just think.

What else happened
on Thursday night?

- I'm sorry?
- You said on the lawn this afternoon.

Last Thursday night,
those boys broke into your church.

That's correct. They did.

I discovered the two of them.
Thieves in the night.

I was most perturbed.

What the blazes
are you doing, boys?

But I apprehended them.

Really? A man of God
against two strong lads?

A man in his 40's?
Or should I say, 40 years old?

- Exactly.
- Oh, my God!

Lady Eddison, your child,
how old would he be now?

Forty! He's 40.

Your child has come home.

- This is poppycock.
- Oh?

You said you were taught
by the Christian fathers,

meaning,
raised in an orphanage.

My son! Can it be?

You found those thieves,
Reverend, and you got angry.

A proper,
deep anger for the first time in your life

and it broke the genetic lock.

You changed.

Put those things
back where you found them.

It's...

You realised your inheritance
after all these years.

You knew who you were.

Oh! And then it all kicks off.
'Cause this isn't just a jewel.

It's a Vespiform telepathic
recorder. It's part of you, your brain.

Your very essence.

And when you activated,
so did the Firestone.

It beamed your full identity
directly into your mind.

And at the same time,

it absorbed the works ofAgatha
Christie directly from Lady Eddison.

It all became part of you.

The mechanics of those novels
re-templated in your brain.

You killed in this pattern,

because that's what you think
the world is.

Turns out we are in the middle
of a murder mystery.

- One of yours, Dame Agatha.
- Dame?

Oh! It's all right, not yet.

- So he killed them? Yes? Definitely?
- Yes.

Well...

This has certainly been
a most entertaining evening.

Really, you can't
believe any of this, surely, Lady Eddison?

Lady who?

Lady Eddison...

- Little bit of buzzing there, Vicar.
- Don't make me angry!

Why? What happens then?

Damn it! You humans

worshipping your
tribal sky gods...

I am so much more.

That night, the universe
exploded in my mind.

I wanted to take
what was mine!

And you, Agatha Christie, with your railway
station bookstall romances...

What's to stop me killing you?

Oh, my dear God. My child!

What's to stop me
killing you all?

- It's me...
- No, no. Clemency, come back...

Keep away. Keep away, my God!

No! No! No more murder.

If my imagination made you kill,

then my imagination will find
a way to stop you, foul creature.

Run! He's chasing us.

Come here!
Come and get me, Reverend!

Agatha, what are you doing?

If I started this, Doctor,
then I must stop it.

Come on!

It's all my fault.
It's all my fault. It's all my fault.

You said this is the night
Agatha Christie loses her memory?

Time is in flux, Donna.

For all we know,
this is the night Agatha Christie loses her life

and history gets changed.

But where is she going?

The lake!
She's heading for the lake. What's she doing?

Here I am,
the honey in the trap.

- Come to me, Vespiform.
- She's controlling him!

His mind is based on her
thought processes. They're linked!

Quite so, Doctor. If I die,
then this creature might die with me.

Don't hurt her!

You're not meant to be like this. You've got
the wrong template your mind.

He's not listening.

How do you kill a wasp?

Drown him,
just like his father.

- Donna, that thing couldn't help itself.
- Neither could I.

Death comes as the end
and justice is served.

Murder at the Vicar's Rage.

- Needs a bit of work.
- Just one mystery left, Doctor.

Who exactly are you?

Oh, it's the Firestone.
It's part of the Vespiform's mind.

It's dying and it's
connected to Agatha.

He let her go.

Right at the end,
the Vespiform chose to save someone's life.

- Is she all right, though?
- Oh, of course, the amnesia.

Wiped her mind of everything
that happened, the wasp, the murders...

And us.
She'll forget about us.

Yeah, but we solved another riddle.
The mystery ofAgatha Christie.

And tomorrow morning, her car
gets found by the side of the lake.

A few days later,
she turns up in a hotel in Harrogate.

With no idea of
whatjust happened.

No one will ever know.

Lady Eddison,

the Colonel,
and all the staff, what about them?

Shameful story.
They'll never talk of it. Too British.

While the Unicorn does a bunk
back to London town,

she can even say she was never there.

- What happens to Agatha?
- Oh, great life!

Met another man.
Married again.

Toured the world.
Wrote and wrote and wrote.

She never thought her books
were any good, though.

And she must have spent
all those years wondering.

Thing is...
I don't think she ever quite forgot.

Great mind like that, some of
the details kept bleeding through.

All the stuff her
imagination could use, like, Miss Marple.

I should have made her
sign a contract.

And where is it?
Where is it? Hold on.

Here we go.

C!

That is C for Cybermen,

C for Carrionites...

And... Christie, Agatha!

- Look at that.
- She did remember.

Somewhere at
the back of her mind, it all lingered.

And that's not all.
Look at the copyright page.

"Facsimile Edition,
published in the year..."

- Five billion?
- People never stop reading them.

She is
the bestselling novelist of all time.

But she never knew.

Well, no one knows
how they're going to be remembered,

all you can do is hope for the
best. Maybe that's what kept her writing.

Same thing
keeps me travelling.

Onwards?

Onwards.

This is the biggest library
in the universe. So where is everyone?

Run. For God's sake, run.

Run!

Professor River Song,
Archaeologist.

The shadows are moving again.

How can a shadow be infected?

It's a Vashta Nerada.

- Run!
- What's CAL?

So, they came to this library
and killed everything in it?

- Donna?
- Yeah.

Stay out of the shadows.