Father Brown (2013–…): Season 2, Episode 10 - The Laws of Motion - full transcript
Audrey McMurray, a rally driver and property owner, may appear to be a philanthropist but her ruthless treatment of her tenants has caused Harriet Welsby's husband to kill himself whilst she openly cheats on her husband Walter with young mechanic Gary Bakewell. Audrey is killed in a hill climb after somebody tampers with her car's brakes and Harriet is arrested after threatening her. Then Gary confesses but Father Brown is convinced that Walter and his wife's secretary Phyllis, who are lovers, are the culprits though he has difficulty in persuading Sullivan to let him ensure that justice is done.
Three, two, one...
Go!
Three, two, one...
Go!
When you said
"Let's go to the races",
I thought you meant the horses!
I meant horsepower!
Ah! MG Bellevue Special.
1935. 180 brake horsepower.
What a beauty!
Father Brown, thank you all
so much for coming.
I never had you pegged as a
motoring enthusiast?
Oh, I'm not, but the Earl's been
called away
on business so I've taken over
hosting duties.
Oh, well, that would
account for the champagne.
Well, as long as none
of the drivers are partaking.
I don't want to make any
arrests on my day off.
Inspector, you have my word.
Hand on heart.
'27!
'28. The Terror. 1496cc.
Methanol-driven and supercharged.
Wouldn't mind having
a whirl in that.
What is it about cars that turns
grown men into little boys?
Audrey. It's been far too long.
Felicia, darling!
So lovely to see you!
Audrey MacMurray - property magnate,
racing track owner,
philanthropist, daredevil...
Have I missed something out?
Ruthless businesswoman.
You're the one who donated to St
Silvia's Orphanage last Christmas.
A rare moment of weakness.
For which I know the children are
very grateful.
They're more than welcome.
Audrey MacMurray? Yes.
I'm Harriet Welsby.
Ow!
You killed my husband!
You'll pay for it.
Why did she say you killed
her husband?
I have no idea.
And it's hardly
any of your business. Thank you.
She wasn't all there,
if you ask me.
People in grief rarely are.
Can't find her,
she's disappeared into the crowd.
How'd she run?
She's overheating a bit.
Take her in and check her out.
Are you trying to get yourself
killed? Oh, what now?
Starting the practice
run before I've run the safety car.
Darling, you're so protective.
Right now, I'm not your husband,
I'm the clerk of this course,
and it's my responsibility to
make sure
nobody takes unnecessary risks.
I must say,
you've done very well there.
Ex-football player, no less.
Poor dear had to give it up
because of a knee injury.
I bet he's dynamite in the...
As I was saying.
Excuse us - marital spat.
What? What is it?
Mrs McCarthy, you're wearing your
scandalised face.
She's old enough to be his mother.
All I ask
is that you follow the rules.
I never follow rules, darling,
you should know that by now.
Mrs MacMurray! Telephone messages
and some paperwork for you to sign.
Can't it wait?
No rest for the wicked.
Why don't you help Gary
with my engine? It's overheating.
Good boy.
Mr Baxter's asking for another
extension on the rent.
He's had two weeks already.
Start eviction proceedings.
And Mr Drew called, wanting to know
if you
could delay repossession
until he's found a house...
Out of the question.
If we do it for him,
we have to do it for everyone.
Only... Only what?
He was very upset on the telephone.
Phyllis, listen to me.
If you're going to
succeed in business,
you have to learn to not let
sentimentality cloud your judgement.
You'll learn.
By the way, do we have anyone called
Welsby on our books?
Um... Welsby...
Oh, yes. Alistair Welsby.
Defaulted on his loan three months
ago. Repossession in progress.
Is there something wrong? No.
Well, good luck. I'm sure you'll win.
I always do.
Keep coming, keep coming...
Hold it there.
Three, two, one - go!
I'm not entirely sure you're
allowed to be in here.
Hey, I own this place.
I can go wherever I want.
Do you like older women? Uh...
Oh, I love men who give monosyllabic
answers. It's so... primal.
You're married.
Yeah. Let's live dangerously.
Mmm. Mmm.
Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt.
Mm.
Problem?
What am I to you? Good Lord.
Don't tell me
you're starting to have feelings.
Your working class bit of rough,
is it?
You're my employee. That's it.
Maybe I should have a word
with your husband.
Tell him what a tart you are.
Forgotten who the fairer sex is?
Ugh! Not at all. You're fired.
What happened?
I caught him trying to stare down
my top.
You filthy...
Unnecessary, darling.
Already dealt him a punishing blow.
You can't stop me from defending your
honour. What honour?
Get out!
- I feel sorry for you.
- Three, two, one - go!
The both of you.
You should've let me hit him.
Oh, don't be silly, darling!
He's almost twice your size -
give or take an inch or two.
I'm racing in ten minutes,
haven't you got a job to do?
I'll run the safety car. Good.
Mrs MacMurray!
It's Mr Baxter. He's threatening
legal action. Coming.
Ladies and gentleman,
welcome to the Earl's 14th annual
Charity Hill Climb Meeting.
I hope you've enjoyed the practice
runs. As you can see,
we have a wide range of vehicles
competing in the race,
in a, in a... variety of colours,
shapes and sizes.
Colours and shapes!
And sizes.
We'll begin in just a few moments,
once the track has been checked for
hazards and, erm, that sort of thing.
Been busy?
I hereby declare this meeting open.
I don't understand this.
How are they all supposed to
fit on one track?
They don't, Mrs McCarthy.
They go one at a time.
One at a time?
The clue's in the title.
Thousand-yard uphill track.
The fastest to make
it to the top is the winner.
Well, it sounds very dull to me.
I can assure you,
it's far from that.
And not a cream tea in sight.
Our first contestant - uh,
driver, is Audrey MacMurray.
Good luck, darling.
Driving a, uh...
Frazer Nash Special...1926.
'27. '28.
Oh, I'd love to have a whirl
in that.
It has lots of various
specifications, which, eh...
to be honest, I don't completely
understand. But, as you can see,
it's in a lovely shade of blue -
Prussian blue, I'd say -
w-w-hich... creating a striking
counterpoint
to her figgy, plummy red jumpsuit.
Just what I came for -
a fashion show.
In any case, it's a magnificent
machine,
as I'm sure you'll all agree.
Three, two, one - go!
And she's off!
Look how fast she's going,
and getting faster... and faster.
Gosh, she really is going fast!
I'm sorry.
It doesn't make any sense. Why would
she just go off the track?
She wouldn't.
She was an excellent driver.
Hazard on the track?
I checked it myself, it was safe.
Mr MacMurray, why don't you
wait in the starter's office?
Let us do our jobs.
I'll make him a cup of tea.
Check the track. Inspector.
Piece of fabric. Curious.
Be careful, Madam. Ooh!
What happened?
Seems like she lost control.
That's not possible.
She never lost control.
Brake lines have been cut.
Just enough to drain the reservoir
before the car got up to speed.
It must've been that mad woman.
Thank you, Mrs McCarthy.
What would I do without you?
Let's track down this
Harriet Welsby.
Welsby? I have the address.
Let's get that arm looked at.
So... you and Mrs MacMurray...
Burn, did she? Alive, I hope.
Initial reports indicate a fractured
skull. Dead on impact.
Oh, well. Can't have everything.
Tea? No, thank you.
Yes, please, three sugars. No.
We're both fine.
Apologies for the mess. The house
is being repossessed.
By Mrs MacMurray's company?
By that evil witch, yes.
Seeing as we're being
blunt, about your husband...
I buried him this morning.
He had a heart attack.
And you blame
Mrs MacMurray for that?
It was her repayment demands.
He never had heart
problems before that. I see.
And when you said,
"You'll pay for it"?
You accusing me of something?
There's evidence to suggest
Mrs MacMurray's car was sabotaged.
This gets better and better!
And, of course, I'm a suspect!
Where did you go after
your confrontation this morning?
Straight home.
Can anyone vouch for you?
Medusa. Medusa?
My cat. She's around here somewhere.
Shall I fetch her for you?
On second thoughts,
maybe we will have that cup of tea.
Of course.
Fly-fishing. Your husband's?
Yes, please don't touch it.
Spiritual guidance only.
Understand?
Absolutely.
Thank you.
Thank you for coming,
Father. I'm what you call "lapsed".
Is that a problem? No.
Not if you wish to repent.
I'm glad she's dead. Ah.
But I didn't do it. Go on.
When Mrs MacMurray's assistant
called her into the office,
I found the cable cutters,
and I tried to cut the brake line.
But I'm not a mechanic.
I didn't know what was what.
Then when I heard someone coming,
I ran off.
When I got home, I realised I still
had the cable cutters in my hand
So I hid them away.
An unfortunate set of circumstances
which does rather have the
effect of making you look
extremely guilty.
I am guilty.
I wanted her dead...
and now I'm going to hang for it.
And I'll be down there,
while my husband...
For all eternity.
That's right, isn't it? No.
Not if you ask for God's
forgiveness.
And besides...
..it's highly likely the person you
heard...
was the real culprit.
I told the inspector there was
someone else there,
but he doesn't believe me.
Between you and me...
..I'm going to investigate.
Morning.
My bicycle tyre needs a pump.
Thank you, you're a life-saver.
No problem.
Horrible business yesterday.
How are you coping?
Excuse me? You and Audrey MacMurray,
you were close, weren't you?
Is that a question or statement?
More of a statement really.
A friend of mine
said you walked in on him
and Audrey at...
..rather an
inopportune moment,
shall we say?
And that you seemed very upset.
You can leave now.
If Mrs Welsby is convicted,
she could hang.
That's for the courts to decide.
I believe she's innocent.
Huh, and I'm not? If you know anything
at all, you owe it to your conscience...
Like I told the police, I didn't
have anything to do with it.
Harriet Welsby's life is at stake.
Then say a prayer for her,
Father, but keep away from me.
Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine.
Et lux perpetua luceat ei.
Requiescat in pace.
Amen.
I'd like to say a few words.
That would not be appropriate.
Sorry, Father.
"Appropriate" never was my
strong point.
Audrey MacMurray...
was a cruel woman. Oh!
We all know that.
Let's not pretend she wasn't.
It isn't being respectful of the
dead lying about them, is it?
He is drunk.
Mr Bakewell...
She chewed people up
and she spat them out!
And she enjoyed doing it.
Tearing the flesh off their bones.
Eating people's hearts
for breakfast. My heart!
We were lovers.
Not that she knew what love was.
Or how to care about other people.
I can't be like that. I won't be.
And I won't let somebody else
pay for what I've done.
It was me.
I killed her.
I'm sorry.
Sergeant, would you please take
Mr Bakewell to the cells?
You'll hang for this!
Mr MacMurray,
you've given your witness statement.
Now please go home.
You do have the awful business
of your wife's affairs
to attend to, Mr MacMurray.
How about a nice cup of tea?
How about a stiff drink?
Mrs McCarthy, why don't you take
Harriet to the presbytery?
There's a bottle
of Bordeaux in my study.
Is there indeed? Hmph.
Right.
Inspector?
Inspector, I don't suppose you've
managed to identify
the origin of the fabric...
An anomaly, probably...
detritus at the scene that got
snagged as she was
thrown from the car.
But... Father, I have motive,
means, and opportunity -
and a confession.
Whether you like it or not,
this case is now closed.
This has got way out of hand.
I'm not happy with this.
Thank you for expediting
the paperwork, Mr Watts.
No at all, Miss Stanwyck.
What in blazes do you think
you're doing?!
Isn't that obvious? Filthy priest.
You're having an affair.
I don't know
what you THINK you saw, but
you're mistaken.
I know lust when I see it.
How dare you?!
You had motive, opportunity...
the only question is means.
What are you suggesting?
That somehow you caused the
accident. You're delusional.
Why don't we let the police decide?
Call them.
He was trespassing on private
property. Spying through the window.
Do it. Yes, do it.
What's this about?
HE was trespassing.
Snooping through the window,
making baseless accusations.
Horrid accusations. Horrid!
It's an act.
What exactly did you see?
She was... straddling him.
Straddling?
Don't really want to demonstrate.
So they've been having an affair?
Exactly.
And you think that makes them
responsible... Yes, I do.
Evidence? Nothing yet.
But if I know
anything, its human behaviour,
and theirs speaks volumes.
An interesting theory.
Hands, please.
Don't understand. It's quite simple.
I'm arresting you.
Oh, I see. For show?
No, for breach of the peace.
I've warned you time and time again,
but you don't listen.
Turn around. Hands - now.
Father Brown, I am arresting
you for breach of the peace.
You are not obliged to say anything
unless you wish to do so,
but what you say will be put
into writing
and may be given in evidence.
Phyllis
and Walter killed Audrey MacMurray.
Even if they are having an affair,
that doesn't make them murderers.
What's this?
None of your concern. Get down.
On the contrary, I'd say it was
of Mr Bakewell's gravest concern.
Don't you see?
It's all starting to add up -
the relationship, the inheritance,
the anomalous piece of fabric...
ENOUGH! My God, man, you have been a
thorn in my side
ever since I stepped into this
piddling little parish.
Sticking your head in where
it's not wanted,
trampling all over
my investigations.
I want you to know that
I fully intend to go through with
these charges, to finally put a stop
to your amateur sleuthing.
To the perfect murder.
Hmm. And the perfect woman.
He must've put something on the
course when he ran the safety car,
something that caused the crash.
No. Miss Stanwyck wouldn't have
left anything like that to chance.
And anyway, they would have
discovered
a hazard after the accident.
What then?
What happened when you
walked in on Sid and Audrey?
She fired me.
Afterwards, I went back to the
paddock to fetch me tool box.
I saw that woman. Harriet.
Trying to find the brake line.
When she ran off...
I finished what she started.
Have you any idea how Audrey could
have got a piece of fabric
trapped under her bracelet?
She wasn't wearing it.
What?
I bought her that bracelet.
She wasn't wearing
it before she ran.
Go, Mrs MacMurray!
Sergeant! What is it?
I'm entitled to a phone call.
I have come to visit Father Brown.
What's that?
To sustain him
in his unjust incarceration.
Oh, what do you suppose I've
hidden in there? A hacksaw?
Oh, well go ahead - check it out!
Slice it, why don't you?!
I will.
Ah.
That is no way to slice a cake!
Oh...
Apologies.
I had better go back home
straightaway and bake another one.
Sorry to be a bother.
Could you make a little
less noise?
Not unless you've got an oil can
under your cassock.
Longing for your glory days?
That grease monkey was
right about one thing.
She didn't care about other people.
I was just another trophy.
Huh. They must have thought
I was an idiot.
AS IF I didn't know
they were at it.
Don't be maudlin, darling.
You finally got your revenge.
Be happy.
Besides, we should be grateful to
that grease monkey -
fortuitously framing
himself for our crime.
Bless his heart.
You're wearing her dress.
Well, why not?
What's hers is mine now.
I was thinking,
once the paperwork's been finalised,
why not make me a joint shareholder?
You have to admit, I've got more
of a head for business than you do.
I thought we were going to leave,
start a new life?
Why leave when we have everything
we need right here?
Did you leave the garage door open?
What you think you're going to
find in there?
Something resembling proof.
That looks like blood.
So she was killed inside the car?
Not quite.
A-ha! What?
The final piece of the puzzle.
< Is that so?
I think this fabric is the same
fabric
that was snagged under
Audrey's bracelet.
And I'll be happy to call
the police for you this time.
Let's go in the house, shall we?
What's going on here?
Mrs McCarthy.
Comes in with
a cake for Father Brown,
knocks it all over the place,
then leaves without even seeing him.
Where did he go?
Where did he go?!
You two will be on the run
for the rest of your lives.
What exactly do you think you know?
Well...
I know enough to prove you
killed Mrs MacMurray
before the race. Somewhere private.
Somewhere where no-one could
see you.
How does he know that we...?
Be quiet.
Harriet saw you calling
her into the office.
Mrs MacMurray? It's Mr Baxter.
Coming.
That's where it happened, wasn't it?
That's where you fractured her
skull.
Phyllis! Can't you deal with
this?
He wants to talk to you.
Oh, honestly... Mr Baxter?
Hello?
Mr Baxter?
Urgh!
Go on.
The next part of the plan was
relatively simple.
You dumped the body in the car...
..and then YOU
changed into identical clothes
And you drove up the hill.
And when you got to the blind
bend...
you positioned the body.
But...
you didn't notice that
Audrey's bracelet had
caught on the material
at the back of the car.
So, the scene being set, all that
was left was to run the race.
Good luck, darling.
But, of course, you had no idea
that an attempt had already been
made on Audrey's life.
And your plan to feign an accident
very nearly was thwarted
when you genuinely lost control.
That's when you injured your arm,
wasn't it?
Your later slip down the ditch...
That was just another sham to cover
up your injury.
Be careful, madam! Oh!
What happened?
An audacious plan, I'll admit.
But ultimately...
as foul as any other murder.
Not so cocky now, are ya?
We're done for! Be quiet. What are
we going to do?!
There's only one thing left to do.
Wait! There has to be another way.
Prison - is that what you'd prefer?
We can lock them up here.
Make our escape.
Start our new lives like we
always planned.
That's your answer, is it?
To run away?
Pathetic. Just go with them.
What? Go!
Should've known you wouldn't rise
to the occasion. Feeble little man.
She's been using you all along,
mate.
That's the way the world works,
sweetheart. Everyone uses everyone.
I find it heartbreaking that that's
how you see the world.
I'm touched by your attempt to
empathise.
Even if it is motivated by a desire
to see me lower the gun.
Alas, needs must
Goodbye, Father.
Ugh!
You all right?
They've seen better days.
Agh...
Walter!
Phyllis! Stop.
It's not too late for us, Walter. We
can still leave together.
Don't! Just... don't.
Walter, why don't you give me
the gun?
You never loved me.
Ah, the penny drops!
It was all an act.
Of course I loved you. I still do.
I just got scared. It made me crazy.
I'll make it up to you, I promise.
Let's go
while we still have the chance.
Don't come any closer!
If you let them arrest me,
I could hang.
You'll be killing me either way.
Is that what you want?
It's what you deserve.
Walter.
You're not a killer.
Forgive me, Father.
If you do this, you'll regret it.
Listen to him.
Just like you regret
killing your wife.
I saw your face...
through the window.
That was remorse, wasn't it?
Wasn't it?
Save yourself, Walter.
We'll get what we deserve.
You think this is justice?
It's subjugation.
You're terrified of any woman who
dares to be more than a meek little
housewife.
That's why you wanted her dead.
So you could reassert
your pathetic masculinity.
Inspector, thank God you're here!
He was going to kill me.
This is the way to raise
money for charity -
no noise,
no cars and no grisly deaths.
So far.
Mmm, these buns are delicious,
Harriet. Thank you, Father.
I dare say you could give
Mrs McCarthy a run for her money.
Father Brown, Mrs McCarthy.
I couldn't resist the opportunity
to try my hand at gourmet
baking.
Gourmet?
Gateaux Parisiens
and a chiffon torte citron.
Otherwise known as "French cake"
or "Lemon tart".
And you baked these yourself, did
you? Scout's honour.
A likely story.
Inspector, bite of something sweet?
Thank you, but I'm not staying.
Just came to see the Father.
In private.
Excuse me.
You'll be glad to know that
Mr Bakewell's charge has been
downgraded to attempted murder.
The... "actress", Miss Stanwyck,
is going down for murder.
And her partner in crime,
conspiracy.
And what about me?
Have you come to put
the cuffs on me again?
Alas, not.
All charges have been dropped, and...
And what?
The pro sols were so impressed
with your help in solving
the case they passed on the
information to my senior officers.
And?
They've awarded you this for your
help in assisting the police.
Oh, congratulations!
And about time too.
So, I suppose this makes me
your deputy...
sheriff?
Don't push it.
Go!
Three, two, one...
Go!
When you said
"Let's go to the races",
I thought you meant the horses!
I meant horsepower!
Ah! MG Bellevue Special.
1935. 180 brake horsepower.
What a beauty!
Father Brown, thank you all
so much for coming.
I never had you pegged as a
motoring enthusiast?
Oh, I'm not, but the Earl's been
called away
on business so I've taken over
hosting duties.
Oh, well, that would
account for the champagne.
Well, as long as none
of the drivers are partaking.
I don't want to make any
arrests on my day off.
Inspector, you have my word.
Hand on heart.
'27!
'28. The Terror. 1496cc.
Methanol-driven and supercharged.
Wouldn't mind having
a whirl in that.
What is it about cars that turns
grown men into little boys?
Audrey. It's been far too long.
Felicia, darling!
So lovely to see you!
Audrey MacMurray - property magnate,
racing track owner,
philanthropist, daredevil...
Have I missed something out?
Ruthless businesswoman.
You're the one who donated to St
Silvia's Orphanage last Christmas.
A rare moment of weakness.
For which I know the children are
very grateful.
They're more than welcome.
Audrey MacMurray? Yes.
I'm Harriet Welsby.
Ow!
You killed my husband!
You'll pay for it.
Why did she say you killed
her husband?
I have no idea.
And it's hardly
any of your business. Thank you.
She wasn't all there,
if you ask me.
People in grief rarely are.
Can't find her,
she's disappeared into the crowd.
How'd she run?
She's overheating a bit.
Take her in and check her out.
Are you trying to get yourself
killed? Oh, what now?
Starting the practice
run before I've run the safety car.
Darling, you're so protective.
Right now, I'm not your husband,
I'm the clerk of this course,
and it's my responsibility to
make sure
nobody takes unnecessary risks.
I must say,
you've done very well there.
Ex-football player, no less.
Poor dear had to give it up
because of a knee injury.
I bet he's dynamite in the...
As I was saying.
Excuse us - marital spat.
What? What is it?
Mrs McCarthy, you're wearing your
scandalised face.
She's old enough to be his mother.
All I ask
is that you follow the rules.
I never follow rules, darling,
you should know that by now.
Mrs MacMurray! Telephone messages
and some paperwork for you to sign.
Can't it wait?
No rest for the wicked.
Why don't you help Gary
with my engine? It's overheating.
Good boy.
Mr Baxter's asking for another
extension on the rent.
He's had two weeks already.
Start eviction proceedings.
And Mr Drew called, wanting to know
if you
could delay repossession
until he's found a house...
Out of the question.
If we do it for him,
we have to do it for everyone.
Only... Only what?
He was very upset on the telephone.
Phyllis, listen to me.
If you're going to
succeed in business,
you have to learn to not let
sentimentality cloud your judgement.
You'll learn.
By the way, do we have anyone called
Welsby on our books?
Um... Welsby...
Oh, yes. Alistair Welsby.
Defaulted on his loan three months
ago. Repossession in progress.
Is there something wrong? No.
Well, good luck. I'm sure you'll win.
I always do.
Keep coming, keep coming...
Hold it there.
Three, two, one - go!
I'm not entirely sure you're
allowed to be in here.
Hey, I own this place.
I can go wherever I want.
Do you like older women? Uh...
Oh, I love men who give monosyllabic
answers. It's so... primal.
You're married.
Yeah. Let's live dangerously.
Mmm. Mmm.
Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt.
Mm.
Problem?
What am I to you? Good Lord.
Don't tell me
you're starting to have feelings.
Your working class bit of rough,
is it?
You're my employee. That's it.
Maybe I should have a word
with your husband.
Tell him what a tart you are.
Forgotten who the fairer sex is?
Ugh! Not at all. You're fired.
What happened?
I caught him trying to stare down
my top.
You filthy...
Unnecessary, darling.
Already dealt him a punishing blow.
You can't stop me from defending your
honour. What honour?
Get out!
- I feel sorry for you.
- Three, two, one - go!
The both of you.
You should've let me hit him.
Oh, don't be silly, darling!
He's almost twice your size -
give or take an inch or two.
I'm racing in ten minutes,
haven't you got a job to do?
I'll run the safety car. Good.
Mrs MacMurray!
It's Mr Baxter. He's threatening
legal action. Coming.
Ladies and gentleman,
welcome to the Earl's 14th annual
Charity Hill Climb Meeting.
I hope you've enjoyed the practice
runs. As you can see,
we have a wide range of vehicles
competing in the race,
in a, in a... variety of colours,
shapes and sizes.
Colours and shapes!
And sizes.
We'll begin in just a few moments,
once the track has been checked for
hazards and, erm, that sort of thing.
Been busy?
I hereby declare this meeting open.
I don't understand this.
How are they all supposed to
fit on one track?
They don't, Mrs McCarthy.
They go one at a time.
One at a time?
The clue's in the title.
Thousand-yard uphill track.
The fastest to make
it to the top is the winner.
Well, it sounds very dull to me.
I can assure you,
it's far from that.
And not a cream tea in sight.
Our first contestant - uh,
driver, is Audrey MacMurray.
Good luck, darling.
Driving a, uh...
Frazer Nash Special...1926.
'27. '28.
Oh, I'd love to have a whirl
in that.
It has lots of various
specifications, which, eh...
to be honest, I don't completely
understand. But, as you can see,
it's in a lovely shade of blue -
Prussian blue, I'd say -
w-w-hich... creating a striking
counterpoint
to her figgy, plummy red jumpsuit.
Just what I came for -
a fashion show.
In any case, it's a magnificent
machine,
as I'm sure you'll all agree.
Three, two, one - go!
And she's off!
Look how fast she's going,
and getting faster... and faster.
Gosh, she really is going fast!
I'm sorry.
It doesn't make any sense. Why would
she just go off the track?
She wouldn't.
She was an excellent driver.
Hazard on the track?
I checked it myself, it was safe.
Mr MacMurray, why don't you
wait in the starter's office?
Let us do our jobs.
I'll make him a cup of tea.
Check the track. Inspector.
Piece of fabric. Curious.
Be careful, Madam. Ooh!
What happened?
Seems like she lost control.
That's not possible.
She never lost control.
Brake lines have been cut.
Just enough to drain the reservoir
before the car got up to speed.
It must've been that mad woman.
Thank you, Mrs McCarthy.
What would I do without you?
Let's track down this
Harriet Welsby.
Welsby? I have the address.
Let's get that arm looked at.
So... you and Mrs MacMurray...
Burn, did she? Alive, I hope.
Initial reports indicate a fractured
skull. Dead on impact.
Oh, well. Can't have everything.
Tea? No, thank you.
Yes, please, three sugars. No.
We're both fine.
Apologies for the mess. The house
is being repossessed.
By Mrs MacMurray's company?
By that evil witch, yes.
Seeing as we're being
blunt, about your husband...
I buried him this morning.
He had a heart attack.
And you blame
Mrs MacMurray for that?
It was her repayment demands.
He never had heart
problems before that. I see.
And when you said,
"You'll pay for it"?
You accusing me of something?
There's evidence to suggest
Mrs MacMurray's car was sabotaged.
This gets better and better!
And, of course, I'm a suspect!
Where did you go after
your confrontation this morning?
Straight home.
Can anyone vouch for you?
Medusa. Medusa?
My cat. She's around here somewhere.
Shall I fetch her for you?
On second thoughts,
maybe we will have that cup of tea.
Of course.
Fly-fishing. Your husband's?
Yes, please don't touch it.
Spiritual guidance only.
Understand?
Absolutely.
Thank you.
Thank you for coming,
Father. I'm what you call "lapsed".
Is that a problem? No.
Not if you wish to repent.
I'm glad she's dead. Ah.
But I didn't do it. Go on.
When Mrs MacMurray's assistant
called her into the office,
I found the cable cutters,
and I tried to cut the brake line.
But I'm not a mechanic.
I didn't know what was what.
Then when I heard someone coming,
I ran off.
When I got home, I realised I still
had the cable cutters in my hand
So I hid them away.
An unfortunate set of circumstances
which does rather have the
effect of making you look
extremely guilty.
I am guilty.
I wanted her dead...
and now I'm going to hang for it.
And I'll be down there,
while my husband...
For all eternity.
That's right, isn't it? No.
Not if you ask for God's
forgiveness.
And besides...
..it's highly likely the person you
heard...
was the real culprit.
I told the inspector there was
someone else there,
but he doesn't believe me.
Between you and me...
..I'm going to investigate.
Morning.
My bicycle tyre needs a pump.
Thank you, you're a life-saver.
No problem.
Horrible business yesterday.
How are you coping?
Excuse me? You and Audrey MacMurray,
you were close, weren't you?
Is that a question or statement?
More of a statement really.
A friend of mine
said you walked in on him
and Audrey at...
..rather an
inopportune moment,
shall we say?
And that you seemed very upset.
You can leave now.
If Mrs Welsby is convicted,
she could hang.
That's for the courts to decide.
I believe she's innocent.
Huh, and I'm not? If you know anything
at all, you owe it to your conscience...
Like I told the police, I didn't
have anything to do with it.
Harriet Welsby's life is at stake.
Then say a prayer for her,
Father, but keep away from me.
Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine.
Et lux perpetua luceat ei.
Requiescat in pace.
Amen.
I'd like to say a few words.
That would not be appropriate.
Sorry, Father.
"Appropriate" never was my
strong point.
Audrey MacMurray...
was a cruel woman. Oh!
We all know that.
Let's not pretend she wasn't.
It isn't being respectful of the
dead lying about them, is it?
He is drunk.
Mr Bakewell...
She chewed people up
and she spat them out!
And she enjoyed doing it.
Tearing the flesh off their bones.
Eating people's hearts
for breakfast. My heart!
We were lovers.
Not that she knew what love was.
Or how to care about other people.
I can't be like that. I won't be.
And I won't let somebody else
pay for what I've done.
It was me.
I killed her.
I'm sorry.
Sergeant, would you please take
Mr Bakewell to the cells?
You'll hang for this!
Mr MacMurray,
you've given your witness statement.
Now please go home.
You do have the awful business
of your wife's affairs
to attend to, Mr MacMurray.
How about a nice cup of tea?
How about a stiff drink?
Mrs McCarthy, why don't you take
Harriet to the presbytery?
There's a bottle
of Bordeaux in my study.
Is there indeed? Hmph.
Right.
Inspector?
Inspector, I don't suppose you've
managed to identify
the origin of the fabric...
An anomaly, probably...
detritus at the scene that got
snagged as she was
thrown from the car.
But... Father, I have motive,
means, and opportunity -
and a confession.
Whether you like it or not,
this case is now closed.
This has got way out of hand.
I'm not happy with this.
Thank you for expediting
the paperwork, Mr Watts.
No at all, Miss Stanwyck.
What in blazes do you think
you're doing?!
Isn't that obvious? Filthy priest.
You're having an affair.
I don't know
what you THINK you saw, but
you're mistaken.
I know lust when I see it.
How dare you?!
You had motive, opportunity...
the only question is means.
What are you suggesting?
That somehow you caused the
accident. You're delusional.
Why don't we let the police decide?
Call them.
He was trespassing on private
property. Spying through the window.
Do it. Yes, do it.
What's this about?
HE was trespassing.
Snooping through the window,
making baseless accusations.
Horrid accusations. Horrid!
It's an act.
What exactly did you see?
She was... straddling him.
Straddling?
Don't really want to demonstrate.
So they've been having an affair?
Exactly.
And you think that makes them
responsible... Yes, I do.
Evidence? Nothing yet.
But if I know
anything, its human behaviour,
and theirs speaks volumes.
An interesting theory.
Hands, please.
Don't understand. It's quite simple.
I'm arresting you.
Oh, I see. For show?
No, for breach of the peace.
I've warned you time and time again,
but you don't listen.
Turn around. Hands - now.
Father Brown, I am arresting
you for breach of the peace.
You are not obliged to say anything
unless you wish to do so,
but what you say will be put
into writing
and may be given in evidence.
Phyllis
and Walter killed Audrey MacMurray.
Even if they are having an affair,
that doesn't make them murderers.
What's this?
None of your concern. Get down.
On the contrary, I'd say it was
of Mr Bakewell's gravest concern.
Don't you see?
It's all starting to add up -
the relationship, the inheritance,
the anomalous piece of fabric...
ENOUGH! My God, man, you have been a
thorn in my side
ever since I stepped into this
piddling little parish.
Sticking your head in where
it's not wanted,
trampling all over
my investigations.
I want you to know that
I fully intend to go through with
these charges, to finally put a stop
to your amateur sleuthing.
To the perfect murder.
Hmm. And the perfect woman.
He must've put something on the
course when he ran the safety car,
something that caused the crash.
No. Miss Stanwyck wouldn't have
left anything like that to chance.
And anyway, they would have
discovered
a hazard after the accident.
What then?
What happened when you
walked in on Sid and Audrey?
She fired me.
Afterwards, I went back to the
paddock to fetch me tool box.
I saw that woman. Harriet.
Trying to find the brake line.
When she ran off...
I finished what she started.
Have you any idea how Audrey could
have got a piece of fabric
trapped under her bracelet?
She wasn't wearing it.
What?
I bought her that bracelet.
She wasn't wearing
it before she ran.
Go, Mrs MacMurray!
Sergeant! What is it?
I'm entitled to a phone call.
I have come to visit Father Brown.
What's that?
To sustain him
in his unjust incarceration.
Oh, what do you suppose I've
hidden in there? A hacksaw?
Oh, well go ahead - check it out!
Slice it, why don't you?!
I will.
Ah.
That is no way to slice a cake!
Oh...
Apologies.
I had better go back home
straightaway and bake another one.
Sorry to be a bother.
Could you make a little
less noise?
Not unless you've got an oil can
under your cassock.
Longing for your glory days?
That grease monkey was
right about one thing.
She didn't care about other people.
I was just another trophy.
Huh. They must have thought
I was an idiot.
AS IF I didn't know
they were at it.
Don't be maudlin, darling.
You finally got your revenge.
Be happy.
Besides, we should be grateful to
that grease monkey -
fortuitously framing
himself for our crime.
Bless his heart.
You're wearing her dress.
Well, why not?
What's hers is mine now.
I was thinking,
once the paperwork's been finalised,
why not make me a joint shareholder?
You have to admit, I've got more
of a head for business than you do.
I thought we were going to leave,
start a new life?
Why leave when we have everything
we need right here?
Did you leave the garage door open?
What you think you're going to
find in there?
Something resembling proof.
That looks like blood.
So she was killed inside the car?
Not quite.
A-ha! What?
The final piece of the puzzle.
< Is that so?
I think this fabric is the same
fabric
that was snagged under
Audrey's bracelet.
And I'll be happy to call
the police for you this time.
Let's go in the house, shall we?
What's going on here?
Mrs McCarthy.
Comes in with
a cake for Father Brown,
knocks it all over the place,
then leaves without even seeing him.
Where did he go?
Where did he go?!
You two will be on the run
for the rest of your lives.
What exactly do you think you know?
Well...
I know enough to prove you
killed Mrs MacMurray
before the race. Somewhere private.
Somewhere where no-one could
see you.
How does he know that we...?
Be quiet.
Harriet saw you calling
her into the office.
Mrs MacMurray? It's Mr Baxter.
Coming.
That's where it happened, wasn't it?
That's where you fractured her
skull.
Phyllis! Can't you deal with
this?
He wants to talk to you.
Oh, honestly... Mr Baxter?
Hello?
Mr Baxter?
Urgh!
Go on.
The next part of the plan was
relatively simple.
You dumped the body in the car...
..and then YOU
changed into identical clothes
And you drove up the hill.
And when you got to the blind
bend...
you positioned the body.
But...
you didn't notice that
Audrey's bracelet had
caught on the material
at the back of the car.
So, the scene being set, all that
was left was to run the race.
Good luck, darling.
But, of course, you had no idea
that an attempt had already been
made on Audrey's life.
And your plan to feign an accident
very nearly was thwarted
when you genuinely lost control.
That's when you injured your arm,
wasn't it?
Your later slip down the ditch...
That was just another sham to cover
up your injury.
Be careful, madam! Oh!
What happened?
An audacious plan, I'll admit.
But ultimately...
as foul as any other murder.
Not so cocky now, are ya?
We're done for! Be quiet. What are
we going to do?!
There's only one thing left to do.
Wait! There has to be another way.
Prison - is that what you'd prefer?
We can lock them up here.
Make our escape.
Start our new lives like we
always planned.
That's your answer, is it?
To run away?
Pathetic. Just go with them.
What? Go!
Should've known you wouldn't rise
to the occasion. Feeble little man.
She's been using you all along,
mate.
That's the way the world works,
sweetheart. Everyone uses everyone.
I find it heartbreaking that that's
how you see the world.
I'm touched by your attempt to
empathise.
Even if it is motivated by a desire
to see me lower the gun.
Alas, needs must
Goodbye, Father.
Ugh!
You all right?
They've seen better days.
Agh...
Walter!
Phyllis! Stop.
It's not too late for us, Walter. We
can still leave together.
Don't! Just... don't.
Walter, why don't you give me
the gun?
You never loved me.
Ah, the penny drops!
It was all an act.
Of course I loved you. I still do.
I just got scared. It made me crazy.
I'll make it up to you, I promise.
Let's go
while we still have the chance.
Don't come any closer!
If you let them arrest me,
I could hang.
You'll be killing me either way.
Is that what you want?
It's what you deserve.
Walter.
You're not a killer.
Forgive me, Father.
If you do this, you'll regret it.
Listen to him.
Just like you regret
killing your wife.
I saw your face...
through the window.
That was remorse, wasn't it?
Wasn't it?
Save yourself, Walter.
We'll get what we deserve.
You think this is justice?
It's subjugation.
You're terrified of any woman who
dares to be more than a meek little
housewife.
That's why you wanted her dead.
So you could reassert
your pathetic masculinity.
Inspector, thank God you're here!
He was going to kill me.
This is the way to raise
money for charity -
no noise,
no cars and no grisly deaths.
So far.
Mmm, these buns are delicious,
Harriet. Thank you, Father.
I dare say you could give
Mrs McCarthy a run for her money.
Father Brown, Mrs McCarthy.
I couldn't resist the opportunity
to try my hand at gourmet
baking.
Gourmet?
Gateaux Parisiens
and a chiffon torte citron.
Otherwise known as "French cake"
or "Lemon tart".
And you baked these yourself, did
you? Scout's honour.
A likely story.
Inspector, bite of something sweet?
Thank you, but I'm not staying.
Just came to see the Father.
In private.
Excuse me.
You'll be glad to know that
Mr Bakewell's charge has been
downgraded to attempted murder.
The... "actress", Miss Stanwyck,
is going down for murder.
And her partner in crime,
conspiracy.
And what about me?
Have you come to put
the cuffs on me again?
Alas, not.
All charges have been dropped, and...
And what?
The pro sols were so impressed
with your help in solving
the case they passed on the
information to my senior officers.
And?
They've awarded you this for your
help in assisting the police.
Oh, congratulations!
And about time too.
So, I suppose this makes me
your deputy...
sheriff?
Don't push it.