Father Brown (2013–…): Season 5, Episode 2 - The Labyrinth of the Minotaur - full transcript

Bunty Lady Felicia's niece is suspected of murder while being looked after by Father Brown.

A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-Argh!

Sorry, Aunt Flis,
I didn't mean to scare you.

By breaking into my bedroom
in the middle of the night?!

I thought I'd slip in quietly.

I'm on the run, you see, and I
didn't want to wake the servants.

Well, that went to plan(!)

It's only Miss Bunty.

Hello, Hornby.
Sorry for all the kerfuffle.

Hello, Miss Bunty.

Please go back to bed.
I'll deal with this.

Now, what have you done?



Well, a photographer from The Post
snapped me leaving the Night Bunker.

The Night Bunker?!

Ghastly, I know, but sleazy
is all the rage.

What's worse is that I was with
Tony Hartley,

and now his wife is citing me
in the divorce.

Oh, Bunty!

Oh, it's a fearful stink, I know.

Daddy's on the warpath
and, um... I was thinking

I need a place to lay low
until he calms down.

And where better than
with my favourite aunt?

Mm-hm.

Play your cards right,
you can be mistress of all this.

Eeh, Lady Davina.
How lovely to see you.

Mr Vanderlande.



Do come in. Thank you.

Yes, Dickie, she WILL hate it,
but that's rather the point.

Well, I'm glad that's settled.

Goodbye, Dickie.

PHONE RINGS

Felicia Montague.

Tonight?

Yes, of course.

So it's the Mother's Union at 11,

followed by the
first Holy Communicants,

and then after lunch
the Wayward Girls.

Ooh, and I said we'd call in on
Lady Davina,

see how Ruby Jewel is faring.

The baby went to a nice family
in Guildford.

I wonder how Ruby will cope
with Malmort.

Oh, it's a grim old place,

but, then,
we're not exactly spoilt for choice.

Not many are keen to take on
girls of loose morals.

Coo-ee!

I wonder if I might beg a favour?

My niece is staying and I wondered
if you'd help babysit.

Babysit? Mm. Oh, how lovely!

It would be our pleasure.
How old is she?

25.

Best behaviour, now.

Davina! I don't think
you've met my niece, Bunty.

How do you do, Lady Malmort?

Dickie Windermere's girl.

I know you by, er... reputation.

Ah! And here is Smith.

Oh! And how are you settling in,
child?

Very grateful to Her Ladyship
for the opportunity.

I spy my house guests.

Will you excuse me
while I fetch them for tea?

Anyone I know? Oh, hardly.

Just Norman Vanderlande -

common as muck, but rich as Croesus
- and his daughter, Joan.

A milksop, but, thankfully,
educated, as I intend her for Bobby.

An arranged marriage?
How very Victorian.

Unfortunately,
not all of us are in a position

where we turn our noses up at trade!

Smith?

She said Ruby Jewel was an
unsuitable name for a housemaid.

And while I'm here
I'd be known as Smith.

And I'll tell you, Father,
this place gives me the creeps.

It is a bit Gormenghast.

Nonsense, Penelope.
It's a fresh start.

A chance to put the past behind you.

Huh! There's no such thing.

You never know who'll come
crawling out of the woodwork.

You were supposed to be here
for lunch!

I was unavoidably detained.

In an all-night drinking den?

I am warning you, Bobby,
do NOT embarrass me!

Mr Vanderlande! Sincere apologies
for my tardy arrival.

And Miss Vanderlande.
Delighted to see you again.

Why all the formality?

I think you'll find she answers
to "Joan".

Davina, we'll leave you
to your guests.

Bunty Windermere,
what are you doing in the sticks?!

Bobby! Time for bad behaviour.
I could ask you the same thing!

Long story. We must catch up. Yes!

Well, sadly, Miss Windermere
is just leaving.

Then she must return for dinner,
as she's in the area.

Of course. You are BOTH
more than welcome.

I'm so sorry, I have an engagement
in London.

But if you need someone to make up
numbers,

I can attest to Father Brown's
attributes as a dinner guest.

Well, in that case, Father,
can I persuade you to join us?

It would be my pleasure.

Well, that's settled, then.
Shall we?

Mr Van... Norman.

That's the first I heard of
this trip to London.

It... It's all very last-minute.

That means you're going to miss
the summer fete meeting.

Well, I'm sure you can cover for me.

And what is so important that you
have to go rushing off

without so much as a by-your-leave?

It's boring.
Nothing that would interest you.

Ah, here you are. Good.

Ship-shape and Bristol.
I know what you're doing.

Turning up drunk,
inviting the Windermere girl.

Whatever it is you've got planned,
you can forget it.

This was your grandmother's.

Seven carats and hideously ugly,

so no doubt it will impress
Norman Vanderlande.

You've only got yourself to blame.

Who was it who gambled
and drank away a fortune

and then rendered
himself unmarriageable

to any woman of breeding?!

How can I forget,
as you remind me so often?

So you WILL behave.

And propose to the girl.

Or you will go down as the man
that let this family go to ruin.

Anything for you, dear Mother.

I'd better go and see what
your future father-in-law is up to.

Let's hope he's not inspecting
the roof!

Ah! Good evening, Father.

Er... Bobby will get you a drink.

Thank you.

Duke of Wellington?

Oh. Close, but no cigar.

This is Major General
Robert Craufurd, AKA Black Bob.

My little brother, Arthur,
was the Duke of Wellington.

Black Bob's my lucky charm.

(Lord knows I need it.)

RAUCOUS LAUGHTER

More sauce with your tart, sir?

No! Thank you.

You must give us the grand tour.

Joanie's interested
in your subterranean maze.

Fascinating.
Built by the 5th Marquis, I believe.

But why would he build a maze
underground?

Because he was as mad as a sack
of ferrets and had a bet

that he could build
the most fiendish maze.

Modelled on a design by Frigimelica.

Although I don't suppose that will
mean anything to any of you.

Architect of the Villa Pisani
Labyrinth in Stra.

Reputed to be the most difficult
maze in the world.

You ARE well-informed.

She spends too much time
with her nose in a book.

She said she wanted to go to
university, I said,

"That's no preparation for life."

Depends on what sort of life.

I like puzzles, and would like to
see it, if I may?

Well, as long as you're accompanied.

We've already lost one guest
in there,

so we don't like to take
any chances.

And when she says lost, she means...

Don't stop when it's starting
to get interesting!

A chap named Peregrine Goodluck.

Unfortunately monikered,
as transpires.

He wandered in during a house party.

Everyone thought he'd left
early without saying his goodbyes.

Six months later,
they found his skeleton.

The servants think his ghost's
still in there... trying to get out.

Poor soul.

Well, on that subject,
we'll have coffee now.

I'm sure that some of our guests
will need to go.

I asked Bunty to stay the night.

We can't have her driving half-cut.

Especially after last time.

BUNTY GIGGLES

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean no harm.

Please don't tell Her Ladyship.

I have no intention of telling
Lady Deadlock.

She reminds me of my mother.

Which is by no means a compliment.

Thank you. I need this job.

At least until I've saved
enough money to get back to London,

and my old life.

I'm guessing you weren't
a housemaid.

A dancer. Hm!

At the Windmill Club in Soho.

You won't have heard of it.
I know it well.

You're surprised?

It's not the sort of place
respectable ladies are seen.

That's because I'm neither a lady
nor respectable.

At least, according to my parents.

My parents said much the same thing,
miss. Hm!

I'm sorry about your baby.

Don't be.

I've plans.

The last thing I need
is to be saddled with a kid. Hm.

If that's everything... Oh, Ruby?

Take the stole.
It'll be just the thing for London.

What's wrong?

In my experience, folk don't give
things away for nothing, is all.

BUNTY SIGHS

Ruby?!

Ruby?

Any witnesses? No, sir.

She and the butler are the only
live-in servants.

Also here last night were

the Marquis and Dowager Marchioness
and three house guests,

Mr and Miss Vanderlande and
the Honourable Penelope Windermere,

who found the body.

Is something bothering you, Padre?

Well, she must have fallen
from, what... 30 feet?

I'd have expected there to be
more blood.

If you're sniffing around for
a mystery, you won't find one here.

We've got ourselves a jumper.

She was straight out of
a mother-and-baby home.

It wouldn't be the first time,
and I doubt it will be the last.

Get a statement from Miss Windermere

and make sure you search
the battlements.

Miss Jewel might have left a note.

Righty-ho, sir.

That policeman is wrong.

Go on.
She wasn't sad about her baby.

Quite the contrary, in fact.

Unless she's a very good liar.

KNOCK AT DOOR
Come!

I take it this is about Ruby.

Mm.

I wondered what state of mind
she was in. I see.

She was a decent worker, if subdued.

Obviously grieving for her baby.

Oh. I see.

It's such a shame she couldn't
put her past behind her.

There's no such thing.

Something she said yesterday.

BELL RINGS
If you'll excuse me, Father?

Can you see yourself out?
Yes, of course.

WHISTLING
Who's there?!

What's done is done. Logan says...

And you always do as Logan says!

He seems to have more authority
than me!

Well, do you have another plan?!

We both know the alternative!

If you're looking for Her Ladyship,

she's out in the garden,
having a walk.

Actually, I wanted to talk to you.

About Ruby Jewel.

The suicide.

Well, cause of death
hasn't been established yet.

Either way, I wouldn't know her
from Adam.

Although it is strange
that you knew her original name,

whereas here she was only known
as Smith.

And if we were... acquainted?

I'm a widower, and paying a young
lady for her time isn't illegal.

Nor something you'd want
bandied about

on the occasion of your daughter's
engagement.

Oh-ho! I get it!

You think she was blackmailing me.
Was she?

No, but I wouldn't put it past her
if she was.

She wasn't the kind of girl
that could keep a secret.

Nor the sort who would take
her own life.

I didn't push her, if that's
what you're getting at.

Let me tell you something, one of
the advantages of extreme wealth

is the ability to buy people's
silence without resorting to murder.

On the subject of which...

..how much do you want?

Call it a... donation.

Thank you, Mr Vanderlande...

..but my silence is complimentary.

Help!

You were warned not to go in there
alone!

The silly girl!
She must have got lost!

I wasn't lost.

I followed a mathematical algorithm
to the centre.

There's a column depicting
the Minotaur legend. Spot-on.

As I was making my way back,
I heard whistling.

WHISTLED TUNE

SHE HYPERVENTILATES

Someone's been listening to
too many ghost stories.

I don't believe in ghosts.

Did you see this... someone?

Only a hand.

Well, maybe we should take a look.
Certainly not.

I will inform the police
and they can conduct

a wild ghost chase
if they're so inclined.

I have served tea on the lawn.

Thank you, Logan.

I am sure Miss Vanderlande
would benefit from some refreshment.

What is an algo-thing,
when it's at home?

Er... mathematics.

Mazes without loops are known
as simply connected, or perfect,

and are equivalent to a tree
in graph theory.

I'm boring you.

No, on the contrary, I'm curious.

You must show me sometime.

Sir!

We found it on the roof,
shoved inside a rain barrel.

Penelope Windermere.

Bring her in.

We found this on the roof,
shoved in a rain barrel.

Do you recognise it? Is that blood?

I'll ask the questions,
if you don't mind.

It was mine, but I gave it to Ruby.

How much would an item like this
cost?

It's frightfully vulgar
to talk about money.

Humour me.

Around 60 guineas.

It's quite an expensive gift
to give to a maid.

Green is so last season.

According to witness statements,

you were the last person
she spoke to yesterday night,

and, coincidentally, the person
who found her body this morning.

And you maintain that you were
in your room the entire night.

Yes.

I hope you don't think I pushed her?

No, Miss Windermere,

because she was already dead
when she fell from the roof.

Bludgeoned over the head
by a right-handed assailant

approximately six inches taller.

The victim was five foot six.

Can I ask how tall you are?

Five feet ten.

And no doubt taller in heels.

Are you arresting me?!

Unfortunately, due to the lack of
evidence, that's not possible.

So I'm going to get this blood
tested, and if it matches

that of the victim,
then I'm going to arrest you.

Perhaps you should search
the labyrinth.

I beg your pardon?

Joan Vanderlande thought
she saw someone in there.

Didn't Lady Malmort tell you?

KNOCK AT DOOR

Lady Felicia's here, sir,
with Father Brown.

And the Chief Constable
wants you to call him.

And this is the nursery.

Rather dusty, due to lack of use.

Bobby and Arthur.

My brother.

Is he...?

How old was he when he died?

He... He was four.

I'm sorry.

So am I.

And this is Copenhagen.

Favourite steed
of the Duke of Wellington.

Gosh, you really ARE
a bluestocking.

Hm. Don't tell my father.

He finds education in a woman
highly unbecoming.

My mother merely bemoans
the lack of mine.

I think my father and your mother
have far more in common

than either of them
would like to think.

At least we know the score.

Apropos, there's something
I'd like to say.

An heir and a spare
and you can do your own thing.

If you get my drift?

Thank you.

Right, well, um... shall we see
the rest of the house?

I think you're supposed
to put it on, or something.

I can tell by looking
it doesn't fit.

Right. Well... you... you can take it
to a jeweller, I expect.

Murdered?! Oh, the poor child!

She never struck one
as the suicidal type.

Yet Mr Logan was keen to give
the opposite impression.

So, a blow to the head?

By a right-handed assailant
approximately six inches taller.

Or higher.

If she was killed on stairs.

Excellent point, milady.

Well, that means it could have been
anyone.

Well, who would want to murder Ruby?

Perhaps she wasn't
the intended victim.

If she was wearing my stole, then
maybe the killer mistook her for me.

Oh, and who on earth would want
to murder you?

Why did you give Ruby your stole?

The real answer.

Oh, all right.

I asked her deliver a message
to Bobby, asking him to meet me.

Your niece is absolutely shameless!

Which is why I didn't tell that
to Inspector Mallory.

People were bound to get
the wrong end of the stick.

And the right end of the stick?

Bobby's an old friend, and his
absolute witch of a mother

made sure that we didn't have
one minute alone all night.

So I suggested a chinwag
at the summerhouse.

But, of course, he didn't show.

Congratulations, Bunty, I'm away
one day and you get arrested
for murder! Oh!

I wonder if the police
have searched the labyrinth?

Well, that's exactly what I asked
Inspector Mallory,

but he had no clue
what I was talking about.

Oh. Hello.

You're back. Only to get my things.

I hear a congratulations
are in order. Thank you.

Oh, gosh, that is a knuckleduster!

Why aren't you wearing it?

It doesn't fit. I think that much
is obvious to everyone.

Well, it can be altered.

Or...

..until then, you could tie a thread
around it. May I?

You know, if you dig away,
Bobby really is quite a good egg.

Not to mention devilishly handsome.

What I'm trying to say is,
you could do worse.

All considered,
he is very lucky to have you.

That should do,
until you can get it altered.

Going somewhere?

London. Flying visit.

But you've only just got back.

I know, but something came up.

Something, or someone?

I know what you're thinking, but you
couldn't be further from the truth.

Well, then, why all this secrecy?

Believe me, if I could tell you,
I would.

Oh, yes, of course you would(!)

If I wasn't a nosy old gossip
with ideas above her station.

Well, I'll wish Your Ladyship
a pleasant journey.

Mrs McCarthy!

TRAIN WHISTLE

Father?

Ariadne's thread. Whose?

How apt.

Lover of Theseus.

She gave him a ball of red twine

so that he could find his way out of
the Minotaur's Labyrinth.

Stay here.

Oh, Lord, please, not now.

Need a light?

Yes.

I thought I told you to stay put.

Didn't my aunt tell you?
I never do as I'm told.

He's no oil painting.

The offspring of a Cretan queen

and a magnificent bull.

King Minos built a labyrinth
to contain him.

That's Bobby's lucky mascot.
He never goes anywhere without it.

Close, but no cigar.

More to the point... what's it
doing here?

Where does it go? Up.

Is that a blood stain?

I fear so.

So... do we run, or overpower him?

Neither.

My name is Father Brown.

And you, I assume, are Arthur.

I believe I have something of yours.

Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley.

Who's he?

The 1st Duke of Wellington.

No, I mean, who is HE?

He's my brother.

Lab results, sir. The blood type
matches that of the victim.

There's something else.

"Meet me in the summerhouse,
one o'clock. Bunty."

I think the time has come to arrest
Miss Windermere.

He was the loveliest child.

Sunny and good-natured.

It wasn't until he was three
that we noticed he was... different.

That while his body grew,
his brain had somehow stalled.

He was a mental defective,
we were told,

and the only option was
a discreet institution.

I visited several of them,

but I found that the children there
were...

They were not like Arthur,
who was sweet and loving.

They appeared to be... joyless
and empty.

So... you declared him dead.

We had Bobby to think about.

Any stain of mental illness
would have ruined his prospects.

As it transpires,
I managed that all by myself.

We engaged Logan in his capacity
as a mental-deficiency nurse.

And the labyrinth
for his exercise yard.

Arthur loves it! He knows it like
the back of his hand!

The servants don't go near it,

so he can wander there
to his heart's content!

You rejected one institution
only to replace it with another.

I wouldn't expect YOU to understand.

The difference is,
here, he is loved.

Yes.
Surrounded by his favourite things,

and the people who keep him safe.

Ruby wasn't safe.
It was an accident!

Arthur cries if he hurts a fly.

I think...

Logan should explain.

Arthur gets overexcited
when Bobby's at home.

He couldn't sleep, so I left his
room to fetch a sleeping draught

and returned to find
the door unlocked.

I can only assume she burst in

and scared him and he lashed out.

And then?

I'm ashamed to say, I panicked.

Threw the body off the roof
to make it look like suicide.

You knew of this?

Only after the event.

But I don't blame Logan.

He did it out of loyalty.

The scandal would be ruinous.

They'd lock Arthur up
with the criminally insane.

We no longer have a choice.

Ahem!

That's it, it's over.

Now, if you will excuse me, I would
like to telephone the police myself.

I'd rather they hanged him.

At least it would be quick.

Um... may I?

Excuse me.

Ah!

It puts pay to my arranged marriage.

Just as I was starting to like
the girl.

Hello again, Arthur.

Now, I was wondering...

..if you like sherbet lemons?

Ah, yes.

Tea-time!

You shouldn't be here.

I wanted to ask Arthur
what had happened.

You can't ask him questions.

He's got the mental age
of an infant.

Then he doesn't have
the wherewithal to lie.

Did a girl come in here?

Were you frightened?

Did you hit her?

You can't give credence
to anything he says.

When I chanced into this room,

Arthur hid himself
behind the curtains.

When Ruby did the same, we're
expected to believe that Arthur

took a poker and brutally
clubbed her to death.

Steady on, mate,
I'm not going to hurt you.

And I think she discovered
Arthur's existence

and threatened to tell.

You... should not be up here.

What's the story with him?

None of your business.

You know, I thought this place was
weird, but a lunatic in the attic?

Go!

All right, I'm going.

Oh!

That's hardly a motive for murder.

No. But money is.

Lady Malmort pays you handsomely
for your... discretion.

So handsomely that you can afford

to retain the services
of a stockbroker.

If Arthur's existence was revealed,
all that would end.

You think anyone would question
my account

over that of a mental defective?

No.

Which is why you need to tell
the truth, and save your soul.

Lest this poor innocent
is condemned to a living hell.

Lend credence to this fairy tale
when there's no proof?

Well, the proof is right before us.

Would you care for another one?

Arthur's left-handed.

Ruby was killed by a right-handed
blow to the skull.

A fact of which the police
are well aware.

Bunty! Logan, he's our man!
Stop him!

Let's see if we can find
Miss Windermere.

I don't think that'll be necessary,
sir.

Miss Windermere,
I'd like you to stop!

Stop, Miss...!

Are you all right, sir?
Take a wild guess!

Shall I get some help, sir?

No, I want you to get after her!

Can't you go any faster?

Hang on to your hat, sir.

BRAKES SCREECH

This is all we need!

Go around him! Beat him!
HORN BLASTS

Get out of the way!
Cut across the grass.

Idiot!

Oh, come on! The jig is up,
you might as well hand yourself in!

Ah! Excellent timing, Inspector.
This is your murderer.

You do the honours
while I arrest Miss Windermere.

What have I done?! Let's start with
obstructing an officer

in the execution of his duty...
Right, sir, out you get.

..exceeding the statutory
speed limit on a public road,

dangerous driving, not to mention
your culpable and reckless conduct.

Out you get, come on.

The police said you were free
to leave.

I imagine you would want to do that
immediately.

Sounds like you've a right scandal
on your hands.

I realise this renders
any engagement null and void.

800 years of history.

There's bound to be the odd skeleton
in the closet.

Of course, he'll have to go.

There are plenty of places
for the likes of him,

but apart from that, I see no reason
why the marriage can't go ahead.

Isn't that rather up to
your daughter?

She'll do as she's told.

I believe... you may be
underestimating her, sir.

Come on! What are you thinking?!

That I would like to meet him.

I've brought someone to see you.

Er... this is Joan.

She... She's a friend.

Like Logan?

Yes.

Do you like horses?

Well, I'm scared of real ones,
but I like toy horses.

And I think his name is Copenhagen.

And this grey one is called Marengo.

She's a bit of a clever clogs.

Oh, th... those are spectacles.

He's never seen anyone
that wears them.

His life is confined in here?

He's happy.

Would you like to look?

My eyes don't work,
and these help me see.

Although if you wear them, I imagine
things will look very blurry.

ARTHUR CHUCKLES

Can Joan stay?

Um...

I-I hope so.

Arthur will stay, too.

Would you like to live with me
and Bobby?

Downstairs?

Yes, downstairs.

I think we'd all get on famously.

The good news is your father has
managed to get the charges dropped

on the grounds you were aiding
a police officer.

The bad news is, er...

Well, it's you, I'm afraid.

Well, this isn't what happened
at all!

Is Daddy livid?

It was the final straw, I'm afraid.

Your allowance has been cut off.

And it's been decided you should
stay here for a few months,

where there's less opportunity
of you finding trouble.

What, in Kembleford?!
I think I'd rather be in prison.

This is serious!
It's the last straw, Bunty.

One more false move
and you'll be disinherited.

Besides, I need someone to look
after things while I'm gone.

Gone? Where are you going?

Monty has been appointed
Northern Governor in Rhodesia.

It was all terribly hush-hush
and protocol,

which is why I couldn't say
anything. Rhodesia?

I need someone to look after Bunty
while I'm away.

Keep her out of trouble.

Rhodesia in... Africa?

What a marvellous opportunity.

Isn't it thrilling?

Finally, a chance to escape
the mundane.

Yes. Well, I suppose it's not like
there's anything to keep you here.

You will be sorely missed.

KETTLE WHISTLES

FLIRTATIOUS CHATTER

That girl's going to be trouble.

I'm not worried.

Because she's in the hands of
someone who's wise and compassionate

and... of the highest
moral integrity.

A dear friend,
who I would trust with my life.

And who I will miss more
than... they will ever know.

Well, I'm sure the Father
would be very glad to hear that.

I'm not talking about Father Brown.

And I'm going to miss you, too.

Goodbye, Father.
TRAIN WHISTLE

Godspeed, milady.

Don't forget to write.

I want all the gossip!

TRAIN WHISTLE