Father Brown (2013–…): Season 9, Episode 10 - The Red Death - full transcript

Here are the files you asked
for, Lord Montague.

Thank you.

No more calls, Miss Maitland.

I'm leaving in exactly two minutes.

Only contactable in case
of emergency, on pain of death.

Oh, and...

..Happy New Year.

I just...

Special Branch? Yes, go on.

This better be good, Jones.

If I don't get ahead of
that snowstorm...



Contact Kembleford Police.

Get every available officer
to my estate immediately.

Sir Charles, Lady Hakeworth!
Hello.

Thrilled you could make it.

Our pleasure, Lady Felicia.

My personal physician, Dr Muthomi.

Welcome to Montague, Doctor.

Delighted to be here.

Where's Monty?

I have an admirably geriatric bottle

of Talisker I'd like
his opinion on.

Due any moment. Hornby... My Lady.

Show our guests of honour
to their rooms

and bring up a decanter
for the whisky.



Thank you again for
your help, Sidney.

It's not every day you get to drive
the Minister of Defence.

That's the lot. What's next?

Hornby has a tuxedo for you.

For me?

You want me at the ball?

I invited you as a guest,
not an employee.

On two conditions.

Don't get too drunk,

and you must ask at least
one lady to dance.

Dance?

Male partners are a trifle
thin on the ground this year.

Monty!

See? Nothing to worry about.

Oh, it's just you.

Oh, that's charming.

Sorry. Monty's gone AWOL.

We come bearing gifts.

Thank you.

Let me guess. Scones?

Award-winning strawberry scones.

Scones would be totally unsuitable
for an occasion like this.

Petit fours. French.

Just imagine.

My baking being sampled
by a future Prime Minister.

Oh. Lord Finchmore.

Robert, please.

I hear "Lord Finchmore" and
I think my father's ghost

is stood behind me.

Still writing poetry?

For my sins.

Where's my rogue of an uncle?

On his way.

If he knows what's good for him.

Is that Ruth Moulton??

Bunty.

I recognised your car.

Ruth! Last I heard,
you were off to Oxford.

Ah, yes, St Hilda's and I had
a little falling out.

I got sent down.

Oh, dear. Well, you'll have
to tell me all about it.

But for now let's all get in
from the cold.

Yes.

This is a private event!

I've orders to seal off the estate.

Nobody's allowed in or out, m'lady.

Under whose authority?

Your husband's.

Oh. Have you found out
what's going on?

Not yet.

The Inspector told me
to "be elsewhere."

No, something's up, though.
They're searching the grounds.

Probably some miscreant at large.

Sidney, do you not have duties
to attend to?

Sid has been invited to the ball.

Oh, wonderful.
You must be thrilled, Sid.

Not really.

Oh, come on, Mrs M,
why won't you join us?

Well, it's all very well for you,

with your wardrobes full
of fancy frocks.

I'm hardly going to fit in
in this now, am I?

Is that all?

We have bundles of ballgowns.

I can help pick something out
for you.

Oh, say you'll come.

Oh, all right. Well, just for you.

Come on. Ah...

Sure nothing's wrong?

They're probably here to arrest you,
Lord Finchmore,

for crimes against literature.

I'd rather be a bad poet
than a bad politician,

Sir Charles.

At least my words don't kill people.

Not for lack of trying.

Ah, pretty as a picture.

Pictures are intended to be
gawped at, Sir Charles.

I prefer an intelligent
conversation.

Hello, everyone. Monty! Finally.

Lady Felicia was considering sending
out a search party.

My humblest apologies.

Where have you been?

I'll explain. First, Sir Charles,
a word in private?

Perhaps you'd join us, Father?

And me? Am I allowed to know what's
about to happen in my own home?

A rather delicate matter.

Yes. Why not?

I'm obliged to you, Sir.

Special Branch believes
the death threat is credible.

And I told them it's
an occupational hazard.

Ask Julius Caesar.

What did the death threat say?

"Hakeworth must answer
for his crimes.

"The Red Death is coming."

Red Death?

Communists. Should've known.

Maybe you should return to London?

You'd never get through the snow.

Montague's safe, easily protected.

I'll protect you until
Special Branch arrives.

I'll stick to you like glue.

But we've been
planning this ball for months.

Fear not, Cinderella.
It shall go ahead.

I insist.

Sir Charles?

I know Lord Montague thinks
highly of you, Father,

but I don't need a priest just yet.

It's a hoax.

Eden's on his last legs.

I'll soon have the support
to succeed Churchill.

Someone wants to put
the wind up me.

But you don't know who?

I doubt my enemies would give
notice before sticking

a knife in my back.

Except...

Just his puerile humour.

Finchmore!

Well?

Is he in danger?

Edgar Allen Poe's chilling allegory
The Red Death

argues that "Darkness and Decay hold
illimitable dominion over all".

Even the rich and powerful
will face judgment.

Luckily, whoever wishes to dispense
said judgment will do well

to get through a police cordon.

Unless the fox is already
amongst the chickens.

Ha! You've lost your marbles.

This prank proves that you're
as feeble-minded as your father.

Mention him again.

I dare you.

Good to see you again,
Miss Moulton.

Dr Muthomi.

Haven't you got the message?

Keep away from us.

Who knew Sir Charles would be
at Montague tonight?

I mentioned it to Ruth.

She lives in Sir Charles'
constituency.

How do you know her?

Daughter of a friend of a friend.
We used to invite her round

to keep Bunty company.
It became a tradition.

I warned Robert that
Sir Charles was attending.

"Warned"?

He's always despised Sir Charles.

Robert's a tormented soul.

His father, Monty's brother-in-law,
killed himself a few years ago.

Lady Hakeworth knew they were
coming, of course. And Dr Muthomi.

Fascinating chap.

Lady Hakeworth found him in
an orphanage in Nairobi.

Brilliant mind. They took him in,
paid for his education.

They adopted him?

Not officially. Sir Robert didn't
think having a Kenyan for

a son would help
his political career. Mm.

Oh. I nearly forgot.

This was put on my desk by mistake.

Ah.

It's, erm...

..from an old friend in, ah,
New York.

Whenever she visits a restaurant,

she insists on sending me a review.

I should go and check on
the catering.

I believe I'm in the doghouse.

My dearest Felicia.

I feel your absence more keenly

with every day that passes.

Yet your last letter gave me hope.

In return, I wish to give you
something.

A choice.

You know Sir Charles is
only courting you?

He wants your backing
to become Prime Minister.

Please tell me you're not working.

Sorry, sorry.

Last minute problems
with the Gunner Day report.

I hoped, for once, you'd prioritise
your friends and family.

Me, even.

But to be late to your own party!

I'm here now.

Are you?

Even when we're together,
your mind is elsewhere.

I wonder if I packed a bag and left
how long it would take you

to even notice that I'd gone?

Sorry, I...

No, no, you're right.

We'll talk.

Tonight, however, we must keep up
appearances for our guests.

Very well.

I'm ready if you are.

Do you think Sir Charles has tried
one of my petit fours yet?

Surely only a matter of time.

Mm.

Robert, Ruth.

Please may I introduce you
to Sidney Carter?

Pleasure to make your acquaintance.

I recognise you.

You used to be the chauffeur!

Oh, poor Aunt Felicia.

So many guests dropping out with
the weather she's been forced

to make up the numbers.

Excuse me.

What did I say?

Ladies, gentlemen, welcome to
our annual masked ball.

Thank you for coming.

Now, the more observant amongst you
will have noticed

the constabulary outside.

I told the Inspector
he wasn't invited,

but he wouldn't take
no for an answer, so...

Nothing to be alarmed by!

Just an added precaution,
that's all.

There is plenty of food and drink,

so indulge yourselves and
have a wonderful time.

Music!

Ah, a petit four, Sir Charles?

Ah, Lady Hakeworth?

Yes, all right.

Sir Charles?

No... Oh, darling!

Are you all right, Sir Charles?

Ah...

Migraine.

I might have a lie down.

I'll come with you.

The devil you will!

Oh.

Don't eat that.

It's been on the floor.

Excuse me.

Arrrgh!

Not dancing, Dr Muthomi?

I have no desire to create
a spectacle.

Oh, I'm sure Lord and Lady Montague
would wish all their guests

to enjoy themselves.

Perhaps Miss Moulton would like
a dance?

That would not be appropriate,
professionally speaking.

Oh. Is she a patient of yours?

No. She...

She knows Sir Charles, that's all.

Ah.

I hope you manage to have
some fun.

Done a sweep. Nothing to report.

But we've checked your list
of those aware

of Sir Charles' attendance.

It turns out Lord Finchmore has
a record.

Drunk-and-disorderly,
assault.

Fisticuffs over cards,
I believe. Ancient history.

Then there's Miss Moulton.

Don't mind me.

Sent down from Oxford University
for ill-advised acts of protest

in support of the Mau Mau.

Ah.

Sir Charles is sending
further troops to Kenya.

Perhaps Miss Moulton wishes
to scare him into

changing his mind.

Erm...

Excuse me, gentlemen.

I should check on our guests.

Just had word from
Special Branch, Sir.

Storm's getting worse.

Their officers are stuck outside
Kiddington.

Then it's lucky for them I have
everything under control.

I went to check on Charles.

The door's locked.

He's not answering.

I'll be hauled over the coals
for this.

The Inspector says you shouldn't...
He's my husband!

SHE GASPS

Sorry, sir.

I've given Lady Hakeworth
a sedative.

She's sleeping.

Cause of death?

Sir Charles was strangled.

Or garrotted, to be precise.

Well, there wasn't much sign
of a struggle.

A strong man could've rendered him
unconscious in seconds.

Of course, it was only
a superficial assessment.

If you require a more thorough
examination...

Do it. I need answers.

I should make an announcement.

Ah.

If people learn there's been
a murder they may panic

and try to leave.

Hate to say it,
but the padre's right.

That cordon breaks,
the killer vanishes.

Best keep silent.

What about interviewing witnesses?

Well, there's no rush.

We'll check for fingerprints,
secure the crime scene,

wait for Special Branch.

Do something for me, Father?

Find the devil who did this.

Any indication of what was used
to strangle the victim?

Hard to say.

A cord, a rope?

A dog collar.

Oh, wait, it's none of
your business!

No sign of a weapon, sir.

But this was in a bin
down the corridor.

The murderer must've locked
the door behind them

then disposed of the key.

Probably to delay
the body being found.

Looks like there's
a fingerprint, though.

Only a partial one, mind,
but I'll get it looked at.

Good work, Sergeant.

Talking of fingerprints,
have you seen Sir Charles' fingers?

Abrasions, from where he tried
to remove the ligature, perhaps?

Quite possibly.

Downstairs he was unwell.

Between us, he'd been drinking
since we first arrived.

Whisky.

Brought his own.

So where is it?

I require acetone for cleaning
my medical equipment,

so I don't contaminate the body.

With your permission,
I know who may have some.

Be discreet.

And you, Padre.

"Abrasions from where he tried
to remove the ligature"?

I've been reading Kerr's Guide
to Forensic Medicine, sir.

You see, I was thinking of
taking my inspector's exams.

Sorry, I thought you were j...

Your inspector's exams?

I'd hoped for your blessing,
sir, but...

Stupid of me.

Just forget I said anything, sir.

Right.

Well, I need you to start taking
the fingerprints from the guests.

Say it's an additional
security measure.

Yes, sir.

What on earth is the matter?

I'm leaving Monty.

No, no. You can't mean that.

What has bought all this on?

Someone.

An, ah...

An acquaintance...

A man.

..has asked me to elope.

So not exactly an acquaintance,
then?

I said no, but in truth I'm...

Tempted by his Gallic charms?

You knew?

I had my suspicions.

Then I saw his handwriting
on the envelope.

Wait a minute. You...

You can't mean Flambeau?

I know!

But I can't deny there's
something between us.

He's so exciting,
and handsome and...

And an immoral, deceitful thief.

Well, at least Hercule treasures me.

Monty may have loved me once,

but now he's as passionate
and demonstrative as a biscuit!

Anyway I thought Flambeau
had gone to America?

He's been writing to me.

And now he's sent an aeroplane
ticket so that I can join him.

Have you told Lord Montague
you're unhappy?

I shouldn't have to!

Sometimes we don't notice that
which we see every day.

Excuse me for changing the subject,

but I wondered if you'd join Bunty
and I in the kitchen downstairs.

I need your assistance.

I would ask Sid as well,
but he seems to have vanished.

Well, that can wait.

Whatever it is, it is far more
important that you talk

some sense into her head

Sir Charles Hakeworth is dead.

What?

How?

Well, I was rather hoping you'd help
me to find out.

Why can't you just leave it
to the police?

It will take hours to compare
all the fingerprints of

the guests, and the murderer
might escape.

And we've no idea what was used
to strangle Sir Charles?

Except that it scratched
his fingertips as he fought

to remove it.

So we know the how
and the where,

but not the who, the why
or the with what?

Indeed.

Only Lord Finchmore,
Miss Moulton, Lady Hakeworth

and Dr Muthomi knew that
Sir Charles would be here.

Bunty, you know Miss Moulton?

A little.

I saw her talking
to Lord Finchmore earlier.

Check whether they can give
each other an alibi for

the time of Sir Charles' death.

Will do.

I will talk to the staff to see
if Dr Muthomi left

after Sir Charles from the ballroom.

The doctor's hardly going to kill
his own patient, is he?

Not just a patient.

His father-figure who refused
to acknowledge him

as his legal child.

What about Lady Hakeworth?

She had an opportunity when
she went to check on Sir Charles.

Opportunity, yes.

Motive, no.

I don't mind mingling
with the guests,

pick up any gossip. Mm-hm!

In order to bring a murderer
to justice!

Thank you, Mrs McCarthy.

What shall I do?

Look for Sid?

Perhaps you should look to
your husband first.

Once more unto the breach?

Father?

There is someone else
I need to ask for help.

Oh.

Sid?

I feel sick.

One over the eight?

Just the one, full stop.

Single malt.

And something else.

Where did you find this?

It's important.

Oh... Well, I decided the ball
wasn't for me so I went upstairs.

I saw someone stashing that in
a cupboard and I thought,

"Must be decent if they're going
to the trouble of hiding it."

Did you see their face?

Nah.

They were wearing a mask.

Red skull.

The Red Death.

Bunty!

Seeking respite from
the madding crowd?

I was just hoping to have
a moment with Ruth.

I'll get some more Champagne. Hm.

Only a bit of fun.

No other men at this party
worth talking to.

Oh, well, don't let me stop you.

I just wanted to tell you something.

Please be discreet about it.

Sir Charles is dead.

Dead? How?

Strangled.

Well, Robert and I have been
together the whole time.

Are you certain of that?

Yes.

And a good thing for Robert.

He's never hidden the fact
that he loathes Sir Charles.

Do you know why?

It may help find the killer.

All I know is he blames Sir Charles
for his father's death.

Sounds like a motive to me.

But if Robert's innocent,
he has nothing to fear.

They found a fingerprint.

Miss Moulton, you're here.

Did you bring acetone
for removing nail varnish?

I need some for my work.
If it's no bother.

Ah, yes. I'll fetch some now.

And as you say,

Robert has nothing to fear.

About what?

Sir Charles has been murdered.

I... I wanted to apologise.

I've been vile to you all evening.

No, no, no. No, you've been under
a lot of pressure,

getting everything ready and...

Well, it's more than that.

You must know I...

I haven't been happy for a...

For a very long time.

Must I? Perhaps, yes.

So...

What are you saying?

Well, how do you feel?

About me.

Feel about you?

You're my wife!

And?

Let's not get into this right now,
hm? We'll talk later, I promise.

So you think Sir Charles
was drugged?

Whatever was in that decanter
knocked Sid for six.

I had to make him a very strong
cup of coffee.

The use of medication rather
points at Dr Muthomi.

Nobody saw the doctor
leave the ballroom

but that doesn't prove
he didn't slip out unnoticed.

Did you speak to Miss Moulton?

Yes. Apparently Robert blames
Sir Charles for his father's death.

But Ruth insists they were together
the whole time.

Well, that is very odd,

because one of the guests told me
that Lord Finchmore

and Lady Hakeworth were seen
arguing on the landing.

LADY HAKEWORTH: How dare you?!

You're a disgrace to your family
name, spreading these lies.

Your precious husband's not
the saint you think he is.

Should I tell you how my father
found out?

Perhaps what Lady Hakeworth found
out about her husband

drove her to murder?

So where was Ruth during all this?

Oh. heaven only knows.

That young woman spells trouble.

And Lady Hakeworth has been saying
as much to anyone who'll listen.

What did Ruth do to her?

Well, apparently Miss Moulton
turned up at their house, uninvited,

making a fuss over some
petition about Kenya.

Oh, Sir Charles quite rightly sent
her packing.

Murder!

Oh!

What happened?

I... I came to fetch some
acetone for Dr Muthomi.

And that thing was in here.

He had a knife.

Fetch the doctor.

Quickly.

I'm scared, Father.

God is with you. And so am I.

The doctor says she's in
grave danger.

Just pray that help arrives soon.

You saw the culprit?

He was wearing the Red Death mask.

If Miss Moulton was getting acetone
for Dr Muthomi, where was he?

He was with me.

Lady Hakeworth!
We didn't realise you were awake.

I heard the commotion.

Dr Muthomi was in your room?

I cried out in my sleep.
He came to my aid.

Have you caught my husband's
murderer yet?

Our investigations are ongoing,
your ladyship.

Lady Hakeworth,

what did Lord Finchmore accuse
your husband of doing?

You were seen arguing with him.

He made the baseless claim that
Charles had a liaison

with Lord Finchmore's mother,
prompting his father's suicide.

Whoever killed Sir Charles,

why would they want to attack
that young lady?

There must be a connection.
Lady Hakeworth,

is it true that Miss Moulton
visited your home?

Oh, yes. Brandishing her petition.

Which Sir Charles rejected?

Naturally. When that failed,
she tried her feminine wiles.

Which were also rejected,
might I add.

Miss Moulton made advances on?

The moment she got Charles alone.

If you don't believe me,
ask Dr Muthomi.

He saw her scurrying off
with her tail between her legs.

Oh, Sidney,
how are you feeling now?

Like a hedgehog's nesting
in my skull.

And then there were three.

Lady Hakeworth, Dr Muthomi,
or Lord Finchmore?

Well, it has to be Lord Finchmore.

He's keen on Miss Moulton,

finds out she threw herself
at Sir Charles,

and attacks them both in
a jealous rage.

But until today,
Robert hadn't seen Ruth in years.

And the death threat was sent
hours earlier.

What if we accept Lord Finchmore's
claim that Sir Charles

was an adulterer?
A young, attractive woman turns up

at his house uninvited
and leaves in tears.

What are you saying, Father?

That it wasn't her that
threw herself at him?

You think he assaulted her?

No, but Miss Moulton can't be the
Red Death because you saw

the killer running from her room
while she was still inside.

But what if someone else got
revenge on her behalf?

The only witness
to Sir Charles' crime.

The doctor, you mean?

If that were true, why then
stab Ruth?

Um...

I feel like I let Lady F down.

It was hardly your fault.

But I shouldn't be pilfering other
people's whisky, should I?

If that's how you feel,
it's not too late to make amends.

How did it go with...?

Monty couldn't offer me one word
of affection.

I rather think we've reached
the end of the road.

With permission,
I'd like to accompany her to

the hospital.
She's lost a lot of blood.

I'd like that.

Perhaps I could escort them, sir?
Very well. Go with her.

Before you leave, Doctor Muthomi,

might I trouble you
for a painkiller? Headache.

No time, Father.

Surely you must have some
in your bag? We must go.

Open your bag, I insist!

Thought you'd sneak past the cordon
in the ambulance, did you?

He deserved it!

After him!

Get her to the hospital.

Don't worry. He won't get away.

Just remember what I taught you.

I'll do my best.

So, who's it going to be?

Ah, Mathilda Pitcher,
she's a sweetheart.

Lily Mansfield?

Lily's a bit of a handful.

Nah.

I know just the girl for me.

Who?

Mrs M, will you do me the honour?

Oh, Sidney!
Well, that would be lovely.

Sidney, you're quite the dancer!

Oh!

That was my shin.

Yeah, well,
Rome wasn't built in a day, Mrs M.

Would you like to dance?

Who knows when we'll have
another opportunity?

You know, Sidney,
you're quite wrong.

You are the perfect gentleman!

Goodfellow, search the back of
the room.

Ladies and gentlemen,
your attention, please.

This is urgent police business.

Please remove your masks.
Immediately!

The escape's surrounded, Doctor.
There is no escape!

Inspector! Dr Muthomi,
I'm arresting you for...

Oh, get off me!
Let me go or she dies.

I need to have a word with
the patient.

I had to see you again,
to make sure.

Sure of what?

Your wound - it isn't real, is it?

Dr Muthomi faked it
with blood from his arm.

Don't be ridiculous. Look at me!

I am.

I saw men with wounds like that
in the Great War.

The blood kept coming until
they were drenched.

Yours is beginning to dry.

At first, I thought
that Doctor Muthomi stabbed you

so that he could
escape in the ambulance.

But why stab the woman that
he was avenging?

Now I know that it was you who is
trying to escape.

Think about this.

Walk out of here or I kill her
and take my chances. Your choice.

No, you can go. But not with her.
She's my protection.

Elliot, please! Don't do this.

Take me, instead.
I won't struggle, you have my word.

Monty, no.
I'm not going to stand here

and let him take you away from me.
Me for her.

You and I leave together.

No tricks? I swear it.

Don't do this. If you go with him,

he'll kill you as soon
as you're out the door.

Better me than her. Monty?

Felicia, I love you.

I adore you. I always have.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you
more often. Oh, no!

Do what I say.

And why, of all the people here,

did he seek you out to ask
for acetone?

Unless he knew that you were
the murderer

and he wanted to warn you

that the police had
found your fingerprint?

I'm hardly capable of murdering
a man with my bare hands!

You didn't use your bare hands.

Sir Charles' fingertips were
scratched as he fought

to free himself. And upstairs...

..I found these,

and I remembered
the jewels on your belt.

The murder weapon was hiding
in plain sight.

No!

God is watching you, Ruth,

and he knows what happened.
And so do I.

Sir Charles invited me into
his study.

Said he was interested in
what I had to say.

Then he came closer.

The stench of whisky on his breath.

I tried to fight him off, but...

I couldn't sleep for weeks.

I could barely breathe.

Then I heard he was coming tonight.

And I knew it would be my
only chance.

Then why the death threat?
Why warn him he was in danger?

A man like that...

..I wanted him to know what it was
like to be afraid.

And the sedative in his whisky?

So he'd be too weak to fight back.

When they found Sir Charles' body,
the doctor came to me,

like you said.
Told me I had to escape.

But they would only let you through

the cordon if they thought
your life was in danger.

I thought, if I killed him,

it would make the pain stop.

I can only imagine the pain
you have suffered.

But you must search your heart.

Dr Muthomi risked everything
to help you escape.

Can you let him hang for
the murder you committed?

I won't hurt you. Now walk.

You can't trust a word he says.
He stabbed a young woman.

He murdered the Minister
of Defence.

He did neither!

I killed Sir Charles.

I'm the Red Death.

Why? Because he rejected you?

No. Because he thought his power

and privilege meant he could take
whatever he wanted.

That he could live without
consequence.

He was wrong.

But Father Brown saw
the Red Death running from your

bedroom while you were still inside.

That was Doctor Muthomi.

It was a ploy to prove that
Miss Moulton wasn't the Red Death.

He gave me the slip, and then hid

in the room where Lady Hakeworth was
sleeping. Is that not so, Doctor?

I knew what Sir Charles did

and I said nothing,
to my eternal shame.

None of this is your fault.
You only tried to help me.

But it's over now, so...

..please, let Lord Montague go.

Forgive me, Lord Montague,
Lady Felicia. I'd never harm you.

Father, why have they arrested
the doctor? I told them it was me.

Helping you try to escape made him
an accessory after the fact.

It was my choice. I'm only sorry
I did not act sooner.

What should I do?

Tell the truth. And pray.

Pray? A little late for that.

It's never too late.

Forgiveness and love
are always there for you.

You wish for me to repent,

but I can't be sorry that man
is dead.

Do not let him cast a shadow
over the rest of your life.

God will show you
the light if you let him in.

Come on.

Wait!

I knew what he was, deep down.

I wouldn't let myself see it.
I want you to know...

I believe you.

At times like this, one must be
grateful for what one has.

So, my friends, my family,

with the New Year nearly upon us,
I wish you all love and kindness.

To 1954.

1954.

Thank you for inviting me.
Most fun I've had in ages!

Offering to sacrifice yourself
like that, it's awfully brave.

If only I'd shown
a bit of backbone years ago.

What would you have done?

Talked.

About the children that never came,

the pain it caused.

Instead I let it tear us apart.

We both did.

So, what now?

I only ever wanted you to fight
for me.

For us.

I will, I swear it.

Every single day.

There are, um, things
I must tell you.

Things I've done.

It's New Year's Eve.

How about we concentrate on
the future?

You should take those exams.

Really, sir? Thank you.
Why the change of heart?

You're a good copper.

Truth is
we need more inspectors like you.

I only hesitated because...
I've got used to having you around.

It'll take some time, sir.
I'm not the quickest learner,

so you'll have to put up with me
for a little while yet.

I'll cope, Goodfellow.

I'll cope.

Well, that was an experience!

Next year, I say we hit The Red Lion
for a few quiet pints instead.

At least the storm seems
to have passed.

Poor Ruth. What will happen to her?

We'll pray the courts show mercy.

I thought you might be able auction
that off at the next fete.

A one-way ticket to New York?

There must be one member of the
congregation

you'd like to see the back of?

On behalf of the church roof
restoration fund, I thank you.

I thank you. Right, are we all met?

Yes.

Oh! Aha.

Five...

..four, three, two, one.

Happy New Year!