Father Brown (2013–…): Season 7, Episode 7 - The House of God - full transcript

Mrs M.

Mrs M.

Oh, yes. Yes.

Mary, Peter.

Are you ready?

We are gathered here today
to witness the marriage

of Peter and Mary.

Oi! Come here!

When are you going to get it
into your thick skull,

I don't want to be with you
any more!

What, you honestly think
you can do better than me?



Get your dirty hands off me!

Get off the road!

Father, are you sure
you don't mind me leaving

early like this?Not at all.

Let me guess. You're going to visit
Patrick O'Leary. Again.

It's his borders. They're in
a terrible state!

They must be. Honestly, spending all
this time with a wealthy bachelor,

you'll set tongues wagging.

I'm sure Patrick appreciates
your kindness, Mrs McCarthy.

Oh, I said I'd be there
by four o'clock!

Tongues couldn't be wagging
any more furiously.

That ivy looks sensational.

This is why I need
you here, Bridget.

To put me right on things.



You know a lot more about gardening,
Patrick O'Leary, than you let on.

You've spoilt me with kindness
these past few weeks, Bridget.

Well, hardly your fault your
gardener decided

to abandon you, was it?

Blessing shall be the reward
of kindly hearts. Oh...

Patrick? What is it?

A slight pain. Nothing at all.

There.I'm feeling better
already, Bridget.

Thank you.Mrs McCarthy.

Oh, Francesca. George.Ma'am.

I'm afraid Patrick's
had a slight turn.

Oh, he needs to be resting,
not exhausting himself

outside with you.

Well, thanks to Mrs McCarthy,
I was barely lifting a finger.

Even so, you have a weak heart,
and as the doctor said...Francesca.

Have you not got work to do?

We've done the whole house, Sir.

Something the matter, Mrs McCarthy?
No, no.

Uncle, have you asked Mrs McCarthy
about this evening?Ah, yes.

Thank you, Maria.

Now, Mrs McCarthy.

I wonder would you do me the honour
of joining me and my niece

for dinner here tonight?Oh!

I've been begging him
to ask you for ages,

given he's so fond of you.

Well, that would be lovely.
Wonderful!

Now, I can't stop long, Father,
but I have made you a shepherd's pie

for your tea.That's very kind,
Mrs McCarthy.

May I say, what a lovely dress.
Oh, this.

I haven't worn it in years.

Bette Davis, eat your heart out!

Penelope, please!Seriously!
Patrick O'Leary is one lucky man.

I can assure you, Mr O'Leary is
nothing more than a...

..horticultural friend.
Now, I must be going!

Have a lovely evening, Mrs McCarthy.

'Guard lips and tongue as thou
would guard thy life from peril.'

Oh, yes. They're a funny lot
in Yorkshire!

Tell me, what made you come to
Kembleford? Thank you.

Well, you know, I had sold the Bible
publishing business, and...

Well, the time comes
when we all just need a change.

Maria.I'm fine.

A year since her husband passed.
A year ago today?

I am so sorry.I'll be all right,
really. George.

I want to know all about you,
Mrs McCarthy. Me?!

Oh... Nothing to tell!Well, what
happened to your husband?

You are Mrs McCarthy?Yes.

You don't have to talk
about it, Bridget.

Don't pretend you're not
madly curious, Uncle.

Oh, yes. Do tell.

Angelica.You didn't change
the locks, Patrick.

I don't know, maybe you wanted me to
come back. No, no.

Don't get up.

So, um...

Who's this?

Mrs McCarthy has been very kindly
helping out in the garden

since you left.

Since I was asked to leave.

So, this was your gardener?Oh, yes.

We mowed lots of grass,
me and Patrick.

Didn't we, Francesca?

What do you want, Angelica?

To let you know that your
threats are in vain.

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to tell
the world the truth.

I no longer fear your
disapproval, Patrick.

I'm beyond that.

You see, in this house,
we set our eyes on what is unseen.

Not on what we can see.

Angelica?

Bridget?

I have a very early
Mass tomorrow, so...

Angelica had a crisis
of faith a while back.

It was brought on by the sudden
passing of her parents.

They died within a week of each
other. Oh, that poor girl!

She began questioning
the very existence of God.

Then she turned to the bottle.

Well, this being such
a holy house...

So that was why you had
to ask her to leave.

She has since veered even
further from the path.

It has been painful to behold.

I can imagine. I am sorry for
the both of you.

You're a wonderful woman, Bridget.

I suspect not enough men have told
you that in your life.

I love your kind heart,
and your faith.

I love that you tell me what to do!

But most of all, I love your eyes.

I really should go.

Thank you for a lovely evening.

Look after one another.

Oi! Angelica!

I swear if you come anywhere near me
again, Eddie Trist...

Is there something I can do to help?

No! Hey. Save a place for me,
won't you?

What's she doing here?

Are you absolutely sure?

No... I'm fine.

Dominus illuminatio
mea, et salus mea.

1 Corinthians, chapter 14, verse 34.

'And the women will stay silent
in the churches...'

This woman will...

Angelica? Angelica?

Well, Padre.

She was at least spared hearing
you prattle on for three hours.

Cyanide poison?Yes, thank you.

I did detect the aroma
of almonds on the victim,

along with the contents
of the pub cellar.

She was about to announce something.

Save your theories, Padre.
We've found our man.

It wasn't me!Eddie Trist, born
troublemaker.

Humiliated by the deceased yesterday
in front of his drinking pals.

Seen barging into the victim's house
in the early hours of this morning

to exact his revenge.That's when
you think he poisoned her?

To most, an overreaction,
but to Eddie Trist,

merely settling a score.

A small amount of cyanide
can take hours to kill.

It might widen the field a little.

Thank you for the toxicology
lesson, Padre.

That poor girl.

I heard Eddie Trist
always was a bit wild.

Up to no good since he could crawl.

But procurement of cyanide
is a complicated process.

It's not exactly the modus operandi
for a crime passionnel,

which is Mallory's theory.

Did Angelica eat anything last
night?No.

Well, she had some wine,
but it was the same wine

that everyone else drank.

Could someone have added poison to
the wine?I don't see how.

The decanter was on the table
right in front of me,

and she just helped herself.

Where did she get the glass from?

She snatched it out of poor George's
hand the minute she arrived.

Maybe she was poisoned
in her own home.

Well, Eddie. You've excelled
yourself this time.

I bet no-one's ever said
that to you before, Mallory.

Kembleford's going to be an awful
lot quieter

with you in six feet of quicklime.
I've done nothing wrong!

It's a peculiar feeling,
let me tell you.

You were seen at the victim's house.

An hour later, she's dead from
poisoning. Is that it?!

The same woman who had recently
ended your relationship.

We got drunk, we rolled in the hay.
It was hardly Brief Encounter.

She also kicked you in
the where's-your-fathers!

In front of an audience.

All you've got on me is a grudge.

Let's see what a jury
thinks, shall we? Mmm.

I'm so sorry to bother you, officer,
but my car won't start.

I don't suppose you could
help me with it?

Very well, madam.Thank you so much!

I'm utterly hopeless
with the sorts of things.

I think there might be some
water in the carburettor?

Who could've done such a thing?

Someone who did not
know the true Angelica.

She had her faults, but I was very
fond of her. I know.

I know.

There's something I'd been
planning to do today.

Oh, that is beautiful.It's yours.

No, Patrick. Not today, not
after what...

This is nothing to do with Angelica.

I've wanted you to have it
for a while now.

You're a joke, Mallory!

Oh, the irony! He thinks I'm the
joke, Sergeant.

Well, I'm certainly not
laughing, Sir. Exactly.

Angelica's postmortem.Well?

The amount of hydrogen cyanide found
in her blood was very small.

She could've ingested it up to 12
hours before she died.

It opens up the case a bit.

All this means is that Eddie slipped
the poison into Angelica's drink

at the pub yesterday. We've just got
to prove it.

Good gosh! Is that from Patrick?

I wonder how big the ring will be!

Penelope, don't be ridiculous!Well,
he's obviously working up to it.

Oh, Father. I wondered
where you'd been.

I have been trying to make sense
of the wedding veil

in Angelica's fireplace,

so I telephoned the marriage records
office in Yorkshire,

and I made a rather
surprising discovery...

..about Patrick O'Leary.

Well?

Yes.

Angelica was my wife.

Your wife?

We met in Yorkshire,
through the church.

We married four years later.I see.

So why pretend
she was your gardener?

After Angelica lost God,
our marriage rather fell apart,

but neither of us wanted
the humiliation of a divorce.

That's why we came here,
where no-one knew us,

where we could live our own lives.
And it was fine...

..until her drinking started.

I wanted to tell you, but I was
worried it would scare you away.

It won't, will it?Well, I...

Before you answer that,
I have something else to share.

I don't know how much time
I have left down here.

In Kembleford?

On Earth.Oh...

The prognosis for my heart,
my doctor is not optimistic.

Oh, dear Lord!That's why Angelica
had to leave this house.

The anxiety was threatening
to kill me.

But I'm determined to make the most
of the life I have left.

Which is why, Bridget, I so
desperately hope you can forgive me.

I don't want to lose you, ever.

I've spoken to Father Brown.
He brought me up to speed.Yes.

Well, before you make
any smart remarks,

I am not in the mood.
I'm not that cruel, Mrs M.

What kind of man makes his wife
pretend to be his gardener

and then fires her?

Oh, you will stay away
from him now, won't you?

Part of me feels a bit sorry for
him. What?! Why?

Well, the poor man
has just lost his wife.

He disowned her.And then there's
his health... Mrs M...

Maybe I was too harsh.

Bridget.

I came to apologise.
Whatever for?

Earlier today, I think I was rather
unsympathetic. Not at all.

It was a lot to take in.

Won't you come in?

Oh...

Are you all right, Bridget?

Oh, just my mind playing
tricks, I think.

A glass of wine, perhaps?
Tea, thank you.

Bridget...

Bridget, please!

Mrs McCarthy.

What's the matter?Patrick is also
married to Francesca.

And to Maria.

To every woman in
that house, in fact.

He's a bigamist, Father!

Oh, Mrs McCarthy.

And I'm the greatest fool,
that I allowed myself even

for one second...You couldn't
possibly have known.

..that a man like that
would be interested in me.

There was bound to be
a catch, wasn't there?

So many lies, from all of them!

What Bridget thinks
she saw in that album...

Patrick, I have spoken
to marriage and birth records.

George is your son, isn't he?

Do not judge me unkindly, Father.
Only God can judge.

I'm here out of concern
for Mrs McCarthy's safety.

I was going to tell her the truth,
at the right time.

I'm glad to hear it.

The arrangement we have in this
house may be unusual,

but it is not ungodly.

Look at Abraham, Jacob,
David, Solomon.

Each took more than one wife.

And which were condemned
by the Lord for doing so?

None of them.Precisely.

God can see this is a happy house,
with good people

who have chosen to be here.
Was Angelica happy?

Until she lost her faith, yes.

She stopped believing in God,
and stopped believing in you.

That was the secret she was about to
share at St Mary's.

The truth about this house.

I assure you what happened to poor
Angelica had nothing to do with me,

or anyone else in my home.

I trust I can count
on your discretion in this?

There's so much at stake,
for all of us here.

I understand. Yes.

I've been married to Patrick
for nearly 20 years.

20 years?

Yes, well, that certainly explains
the funny looks you always gave me.

I love him with all my heart.

And you agreed to share him
with two other women.

The father of your child!

Patrick showed me that God
has given him his permission

to take other wives.
And you believed him.

The Lord gave me the strength
I needed to accept it.

What is it you want
from me, Francesca?

Your word you will
say nothing of this.

Oh, so I just turn a blind eye?
You must!

Your house of God is a house
of lies, a den of sin,

and Patrick O'Leary should go
to prison for having built it.

But so will I, Mrs McCarthy.

And that would mean George
going into care,

which would destroy me.

Mrs McCarthy?

Mrs McCarthy.

Has anyone from Patrick's house
been here?Francesca.

Begging me to keep quiet.

Needless to say, Mrs M
has told me all about it.

Did Francesca leave anything,
touch anything?No. Why?

I think Angelica was silenced
by someone in that house,

and if they silenced her...

They could do the same to me!

Sweet Jesus!Where are you going?

To see Inspector Mallory.

Whatever for?They can hardly
silence me if I've already reported

their dirty little secret.
In that case, we'll go with you.

Who in their right mind
would want to share their husband

with two other women?All three
wives had their reasons, I'm sure.

It must get so complicated.Hmm...

God doesn't actually support bigamy,
does he, Father?

I don't believe so.

However, nowhere in the Bible does
he expressly forbid it,

which rather leaves things
open to interpretation.

I bet Patrick couldn't
believe his luck!

Oh.

A word, father?

Er, I'll go and arrange that
for you, Father.Oh, yes.

Thank you, Bunty.

Where's Mrs McCarthy?
Inside, with the inspector.

Then it's the end of everything.

According to the marriage
records office,

your first husband's still alive.

He is dead to me.

He hurt me. Often.

A year ago I escaped.

I was sleeping on the streets in
Gloucester. I had nothing.

And then Patrick found me
and gave me sanctuary.

In return for becoming his third
wife,

and playing the part
of a widowed niece.

His home is the most
beautiful place in the world.

A true house of God.

For the first time in my life
I felt safe.

And now it's over.

So, what do you intend doing
about it, Inspector?

Inspector?

Mm?You do agree that those women
and that poor boy must be rescued

from that sordid den of iniquity?

Sordid, yes.And that Patrick
O'Leary is a disgrace of a man,

who deserves to be put
behind bars. Absolutely.

Three wives, you say?Yes.

Unbelievable.

It makes me think of
that old Bob Hope quip,

about bigamy being the only time
two rites make a wrong.

It's a play on words.
Rites is spelt R-I-T-E-S.

I think we need to get Mr O'Leary
in for a chat, hadn't we?

Find out exactly what was
going on in that house.

How it all worked.

So, let me get this straight.

One day, out of the blue,
you told Francesca that God wanted

you to take another wife,
and she went along with it.

You're clearly a remarkably
persuasive man, Mr O'Leary.

Three spouses,

all younger than you,

including one who is 28.

You certainly appear
to have covered all the bases.

Age is irrelevant in our house.

The only thing that matters
is serving God.

Of course.

Well, you're looking
at a seven-year stretch for this.

I hope it was worth it.

I suspect it probably was.

I assume there was
some sort of rota?

Ladies.

Well, Goodfellow, I don't know if
that man should be slapped in jail

or given a medal.I still think one
of them could've murdered

Angelica O'Leary, Sir.
They all had good reason to.

They're each other's alibis
that none of them left the house

in the hours before the victim died.

And, given that she didn't eat
or drink anything personal

to her when she visited...
Sir.

To be fair, sir, we still haven't
got any proof that Eddie Trist

did it, either.We do now, Sergeant.
We do now!

Traces of the same poison found in
a jar on the work shelf of his shed.

So, while we're waiting
for all the marriage certificates,

let's get these deviants out
on bail.

I've got a murderer to charge.

Imagine if Patrick had produced
a ring and you said yes

and accidentally signed up
for Sodom and Gomorrah!

Here it is.

'The seeds of stone fruit
such as apricots,

'plums and cherries contain
a substance which releases

'cyanide when metabolised.'

Yes.

And?

The night before Angelica died,
there were fruit pips on Patrick's

kitchen floor, and I am sure
they were cherry pips.

That is very useful.

Very useful indeed, Mrs McCarthy.

Yes, well done, Mrs M.

And I just thought Francesca
had been a bit slack

with her cleaning.

If that's where the cyanide came
from, then who prepared it?

And how did they get
Angelica to ingest it?

Tell me again exactly what happened

when Angelica gate-crashed
the dinner.

Disgusting!

Forgive them.

Look at them. No shame.
I can't believe it.

Bridget.Might I have a word?

I'll join you in a minute.

I thought I could
trust you, Bridget.

Well, that makes two of us.

This belonged to
Angelica, didn't it?

You are a shameless man,
Patrick O'Leary... Bridget...

..all baubles and flowers
and honey words.

And none of it meaning a thing.
That's not true. As the Lord says...

Don't you dare try and twist
the Holy Book with me!

You are a manipulator and a bully,

and you deserve whatever fate
comes your way.

Bridget, please!
Mrs McCarthy to you.

There you go, Mrs M.

That'll do you a world of good.

He has no scruples, that man. None!
I agree.

Maybe he murdered poor Angelica.

He's certainly capable of it,
I've no doubt about that.

If he did do it, then he must've put
the poison in that wine.

I have told you, Angelica drank
from the same decanter

as the rest of us.

Are you certain that no-one
could've slipped anything

in it when she arrived?
Oh, think, Mrs M.

He had the glass ready.Patrick?

No, George.

Oh, Marjorie. Have you seen
Father Brown?

Sorry, Mrs McCarthy, no.

Let's split up.Good idea.

Er, right.

Maria.You're OK.

Let's go.Yes!

Where are you?

Wait, stop! Please!

Father Brown, you are a marvel.

Don't mind if I join you, do you?

Going far?

What do you want, Father?

The wine glass that Angelica took
from you had poison in it,

didn't it, George?

But you didn't put it in there,
because it wasn't your idea

to murder Angelica.
What are you talking about?

George did what he did for love,
and it has become clear to me

that he is very much
in love with you.

You're wrong. It was all my idea.

Um, how did you procure the poison?

How did you extract cyanide
from a cherry tree?I...

It was you, Maria, that extracted
the poison from the cherry pips.

It was you that delivered
the letter to Angelica,

knowing it would provoke her
to visit that evening.

And it was you who persuaded poor
lovelorn George here,

to hold out the wineglass that
you had lined with poison.

And you even ensured
that Mrs McCarthy was there

to testify that you had
kept your hands clean.

Why would I do any of that?

Because Angelica was
about to cost you dear.

Not sanctuary, but a substantial
inheritance,

which, given Patrick's fragile
heart, could've come at any time.

Inheritance?

As you well know, a bigamist's
will is null and void

when the crime is exposed.

I don't care about Patrick's money.

You have a very expensive taste
in jewellery.

This is outrageous!
May I ask what's in your bag?

That's got nothing to do with you.

George...

George!

You stupid boy!

A train ticket.

To London.

You were going to abandon me.

I'm afraid that Maria has taken
advantage of your affection for her.

You said this was to keep me
out of care.

You told me you loved me.

Oh, God.

What've I done?Stop the bus!

Drive on, Eric!
Stop this bus at once!

I order you to open this door!

This bus now terminates
at the police station.

Before this bus reaches
its final destination,

I urge you, for the sake
of your mortal souls, to repent.

Inspector Mallory!

Thank you, Eric.

What in the blazes is...?

Padre.You can let Eddie Trist
go, Inspector.

Oh, can I?

I gave Angelica the cyanide,
in a wineglass.

Sorry, sonny. Eddie Trist did it.
We found poison in his shed.

In a jar on his workbench. Yes.

I put it there.

That's where Maria
told me to put it.

I'll take him inside, Sir.
Come on, son.

You may have to work a bit harder
with his accomplice, Inspector.

Unusually thoughtful
of Inspector Mallory to allow them

to pray together at St Mary's
before he goes.

I wonder if Patrick will survive
seven years in prison.

If he does, I suspect Francesca will
be waiting for him at the gates.

Hasn't the poor woman
suffered enough?

'Love bears all things,
love believes all things,

'love hopes all things,
love endures all things.'

'Love never fails.'

So, how did you know which bus those
two were going to take, Father?

I saw George looking at a Kembleford
to Cirencester timetable

in the Post Office.
You really are far too clever!

Cheer up, Mrs M.

Not every man you're keen on
will turn out to be a bigamist.

You sound awfully
certain about that.

If it's any consolation,
I don't think I could ever get used

to calling you Mrs O, Mrs M.
Me neither.

Oh, come on, Mrs M.

Aren't you just a tiny bit flattered
that Patrick went for you

rather than another younger model?

No, I am not.