Magpie Murders (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Episode #1.4 - full transcript

Kate!

It is Kate Williams, isn't it?
It's me, Alan.

- Alan...?
- Alan Conway.

Yes.
It's been a while...

Oh, of course.

Well, congratulations
on your success.

I saw your last book.
It's number one.

Yes.
For ten weeks.

And of course,
I owe it all to you.

Well, not really.

Well, you introduced me
to your sister back in the day.



- How are Daisy and John?
- Jack. They're fine.

Look, I don't suppose you fancy
getting a cup of coffee,

would you?
It would be lovely to catch up.

Well, well... thank you!

Yeah, there's a place
just around the corner.

I can't believe
you didn't recognise me.

Oh, it does seem such a long
time since Woodbridge School.

I never really thanked you
for what you did for me.

- Oh, it was nothing.
- Well, it was everything to me.

I couldn't wait to get out.

Really? I thought you enjoyed
teaching there.

Oh, some of the children.
Yours.

But all I ever wanted to do
was write.

- Well, I love your books.
- Hmm.



- Susan always sends them to me.
- How is Susan?

Have you not spoken to her?

- We email.
- Oh.

I don't see her
half as often as I'd like.

- Are there just the two of you?
- Yeah.

But she never married?

Oh, I think
she's married to her job.

Well, she's very good at it.

- Really? Do you think so?
- I think she's brilliant.

Well, maybe you should tell her.

You're absolutely right.

I wish I knew her better,

but she never really
talks about herself.

That's just how she is.

Did the two of you
grow up around here?

No, we were brought up
in Kent.

- Whereabouts?
- Near Whitstable.

Ah, that's a nice part
of the world.

Should we have another coffee?

OK.

- We can't do this.
- What?

I hate arguing with you.

We're not arguing.

Yeah, only because
you're not talking to me!

Might as well have been
on my own last night.

I got more chat
out of a pillow.

I can't think about Crete
right now.

Not with all this on my plate.

If you come to Crete, you won't
have this on your plate.

I haven't decided, OK?

I'm thinking about it.

Do you really have the money
for a hotel?

- Yes.
- How?

Oh, your cousin Yannis...

He has vizma.

I don't even know
what that means.

It means connections.

How long are you
gonna be away?

The funeral's this afternoon,
so I'll stay at Katie's tonight.

We can talk tomorrow.

Yes.

Ready?

I've got an email
from Phillip Jones.

Publisher's Weekly.

They want to know about
Cityworld Media. Word's got out.

- What are you gonna tell them?
- I don't know. You tell me.

Uh...

I haven't decided yet.

Oh, it's not like you
to be so indecisive.

I know, but it's not exactly
been an ordinary week.

True.

So...
are you all set for the funeral?

Mm. I was wondering
if I should've worn

something a little more
cheerful.

Oh, God. I hate to do this,
but I... I need an answer.

I know.

I don't want to put pressure on
you, but, look, I'll be honest.

I've spent half a lifetime
building up this company,

and this sale...

you know,
it's not about the money.

It's about knowing
that everything I've ever done

is in safe hands.

Your hands.

Otherwise,
what's the alternative?

We get swallowed up
by one of the big players

just like every other
independent publishing company.

And in the end, you know as well
as I do, we just disappear.

No pressure.

I'm just trying
to be honest with you.

Look,
this is about you, Susan.

I need a decision.

Can you give me
a few more days?

A few. No more.

Ah!
Good morning, Pund.

- Did you have a good sleep?
- Ugh! No, no.

I did not sleep well.

Ah, thinking about the case, eh?

Well, a full English
will put you back on your feet.

I was thinking about Brent.

Not a pleasant way
to pass the night.

No.
That's exactly my point.

Something about him
just smells a bit off.

Are you all right?

I have a headache.

Maybe I should get you
something.

A glass of water perhaps?
Sir!

Actually, James, I think
I'll just go back to my room.

Just...

S... Someone help me,
please!

Someone call a doctor!

I need some help!

- Are you feeling any better?
- Mm.

Yes.
Thank you.

I'm Dr Kamal.

You know my receptionist,
I think. Joy Sanderling?

Oh, yes, indeed.

They were going
to call an ambulance,

but the nearest hospital
is twelve miles away.

I decided it would be easier
to treat you here.

I can have you taken to
the hospital now, if you like.

Oh, no, no, no. That'll not
be necessary, thank you.

- Numbness?
- A little.

Any other symptoms?
Headaches?

Well, the truth is,
I have a condition

that was explained to me
by my doctor in London.

What happened just now
was not unexpected.

I understand.

You're talking about a tumour,
I would imagine.

I assume it's inoperable?

You see things
that others do not.

In the world of medicine,
it's you who are the detective.

I'm sorry I cannot help you.

Well, perhaps you can,
Dr Kamal.

You were the first person

to examine the body
of Mary Blakiston.

You want to talk about that,
even now?

- Well, if you do not object.
- Not at all.

I admire your fortitude,
Mr Pund.

Yes,
I examined Mary Blakiston.

It was Brent who called me.

This is a matter for the police,
I'm afraid, Brent.

Mrs Blakiston is dead.

That's what I thought.
That's what it looked like.

What made you look
in the window?

I heard the phone ringing.

It rang three times
and she didn't answer it,

but it was her job
to take any calls.

I wondered what was wrong.

There was no sign of what
you might call foul play?

No.

It was my view that she tripped
and fell down the stairs.

I noticed a vacuum cleaner
on the first landing.

It occurred to me that if her
foot got caught in the flex...

How did you gain access
to the house?

Brent let us in
through the back door.

He had a key?

Yes.
I think he did.

Mm.

One last question,
if I may, Dr Kamal.

Would you say
that Mary Blakiston

had many enemies
in the village?

Well, she was a bit of a
nosy parker, to tell the truth.

Always taking an interest
in other people's affairs.

But I don't think
that would be enough

for anyone
to want to kill her.

That would depend, I imagine,
on what she had found.

Next patient please,
Miss Sanderling.

- Very good, Doctor.
- Mr Pund, are you all right?

Oh, I'm feeling much better.
Thank you, James.

What did the doctor say?

- He said a great deal.
- About your health?

- About the case.
- Excuse me, Mr Pund.

- Miss Sanderling.
- Before you go...

There's something
Robert and I didn't tell you.

It's always unwise
to hold back information

- on a case such as this.
- I know.

But it was something
that happened a long time ago.

We weren't sure
if it was relevant.

You're talking, I think, about
the younger brother who died.

Sam.

You did not tell me
how he died.

I... I couldn't.
This is Robert's story.

He has to be the one.

- You have spoken to him?
- Yes.

We're closing early
because of the funeral.

Robert is coming with me,
of course.

Perhaps we could all meet
after that?

If you're feeling well enough.

Goodbye.

So,
who do you think killed him?

Alan Conway?

I'm still not persuaded
that was murder.

No, I'm thinking
of Sir Magnus Pye.

Do you really care?

I care about
finishing the book.

It seems to me my entire future,
our future, depends on it.

Well, you should bring in
your ghost writer.

- I think that's a good idea.
- But we still need a solution.

Well, there's the vicar.

You always suspect the vicar.

What about the groundsman,
Brent?

He was at the house
when Mary Blakiston fell -

or was pushed -
down the stairs.

He was working at Pye Hall
when Sir Magnus was killed.

He was even there when Sam died.

Well, those two deaths
may have been accidents,

and would he really
have killed Sir Magnus

just because he'd been fired?
Mm...

What about Lady Pye?

Yes.

He'd been unfaithful,
and betrayal hurts.

Take the next right turn.

You want to avoid
the roadworks up ahead.

Oh, OK. Thanks.

Don't worry, Charles.
We will get there.

Find the pages.
Save the company.

You'll be the new CEO.

No one could do it better
than you.

Hmm!

I wonder if we really
ought to go.

To the funeral of Sir Magnus?
Why not?

Well, first of all,
are you sure you're well enough?

Oh, I'm all right.

You're sure
we're not intruding?

I mean, it's not
as if we knew him.

That is true,
but this is also an opportunity

to see, to observe.

They will all assemble here
in this churchyard.

All of them will seem
to be in mourning,

but one of them... one of them
will be hiding a secret.

And you think
you'll be able to spot them?

Oh, it's easy enough
to commit murder, my friend,

but to stand in front
of the man you've killed

and give nothing away...

that requires real skill.

You look a right mess.

Come here.

On you go.

Robert Blakiston is here.

Yes, yes,
Miss Sanderling told us.

Must be very hard for him.

In what way?

Everyone here thinks
he killed his mother.

Mm.

Why haven't they begun?

We're waiting
for Daddy to arrive.

He's always late.

How are you, Miss Pye?

This is very hard on me.

Oh.
You do surprise me.

I would have thought
this is what you wanted.

I don't know what you mean.

Dingle Dell.
The new development.

There's no way
that'll go ahead now.

You're talking about the death
of my brother!

Exactly.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you for coming today...
and thank you for your patience.

We can now begin...

The hearse is a nice touch.

Vintage Roller.
Very Atticus Pund.

Do you realise
they could be here?

Who?

Whoever killed Alan.
You remember - in the book.

Ah.

It's easy enough
to commit murder,

but to watch the man you've
killed being buried... Whew!

Exactly.

You still haven't proved to me
that Alan was actually killed.

- Although, if he was...
- What?

It just occurs to me -
a murder writer murdered -

we could use that.

Ugh!

Ah.

There's Melissa.

Alan's ex-wife.

- When did you last see her?
- Haven't seen her for years.

Did you say
there were drinks after?

At Abbey Grange.

Right.

I'll catch her then.

After you.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Friends.

We've come here today
to say goodbye

to a man who was known
to millions all over the world.

Many of us here

had the privilege
to know Alan Conway personally.

But his books introduced him
and brought pleasure

to many, many others.

Alan, who started his career as
a teacher at a Suffolk school,

always loved this county.

It appears
in several of his books,

and it would be nice to think
that his famous detective,

Atticus Pund,

might even have visited
this church

and walked
in these very streets.

What was it about his work
that so many readers...

You all right?

Yes,
I was just thinking -

Alan always wanted to be
a national treasure.

And here we are burying him.

I don't think he'd be
too amused by that.

Everybody's talking about him.
He'd have enjoyed that.

Alan Conway was married
with a son.

But in later life,
he found the strength

to confront his own identity
and to come out as a gay man.

Is that Freddy Conway?

Yes, Alan's son.

God, I haven't seen him
since he was a little kid.

It must be very hard on him.

...that both James and
Alan's family are here today.

I'm only here
because you made me come.

Stop it, Freddy.

He was your father.

He was nothing to me.
I'm glad he's dead.

Never say that.
That's a horrible thing to say.

James has very kindly invited
us all to a wake at his home

immediately following
the service,

and I hope we will use
the opportunity

to exchange
our memories of Alan

and the ways
he touched our lives.

Shall we together
say the Lord's prayer?

Our Father
who art in Heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,

on earth
as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day
our daily bread

and forgive us
our trespasses,

as we forgive those
who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory,

forever and ever.

Amen.

And so we commit Sir Magnus
Pye's body to the ground.

Earth to earth.

Ashes to ashes.

Dust to dust.

Lady Frances
has very kindly invited us

for a drink at Pye Hall.

Detective Inspector Chubb
has also agreed to speak to us

and to tell us
how his investigation

into the appalling crime
is proceeding.

Thank you.
I'll see you all there.

I can't say anyone seemed
too sorry to see him go.

Look at those two.

Ah.

His wife and his son.
They do seem unconcerned.

Well, he packed him off
to boarding school.

She's already told us
what she thought of him.

Hello, Pund.
Fraser.

I ain't seen the two of you
for a while.

Well, you have been busy,
Detective Inspector.

I've never been
so rushed off my feet.

I don't suppose you're heading
to the reception?

Mm, we can offer you a lift
if you like.

I was hoping you'd say that.

You heard the vicar.
I'm saying a few words.

We would not miss them
for the world.

So you have made some progress?

Not really, Mr Pund.

To be honest with you,
I ain't got very far at all.

And yet you still intend
to make an address?

Well, the Commissioner insisted.

A violent death in a small
community so soon after another.

It's all a bit unsettling,

and the people need to know
we're on their side.

I'm just sorry I ain't got
very much to tell 'em.

And yet between us, hmm?

No new leads.

That scrap of paper you found
in the fire, for example.

Did you manage
to get a fingerprint?

Sadly not.

You were right about the stain,
right - it was blood.

And more than that,

it was the same blood type
as Sir Magnus Pye.

And that tells you nothing?

Well, only that the sheet of
paper, whatever it contained,

must've been torn up and burned
after Sir Magnus was killed.

Exactly. But Sir Magnus
was struck down in the hallway,

by the front door.

Meaning his killer
returned to the study.

Whatever he was looking for,
it must have been important.

Could it not be

that the sheet of paper
was what he was looking for?

He found it, he tore it up,
he burned it.

You may have a point.

I think I'm beginning
to understand Alan a bit more.

He didn't want to write
detective stories,

and that's
the simple truth of it.

He thought
they were beneath him.

Maybe that's why he called
his house Abbey Grange.

Conan Doyle didn't want to write
detective stories either.

He killed Sherlock Holmes.

He was happy enough
with the royalties.

Well, yes.

I suppose we should be grateful

that he never came out with it
publicly.

That's one PR nightmare
we could have done without.

Oh, you'd have handled it.
You always did.

Thanks very much.

If you don't mind,
I'm going to circulate.

Oh, you go ahead.
Don't mind me.

Let me know
when you want to go,

and I'll drive you
to the station.

- Good luck.
- Yeah.

Oh, it's Charles, isn't it?

Uh, Claire Jenkins.
Alan's sister.

- We met as his last launch.
- Of course. My condolences.

Oh, thank you.
It's been...

Thanks.
Thank you, James.

- Miss Ryeland.
- Ah.

- How nice to see you again.
- And you.

Although of course
such sad circumstances.

I was wondering -
have you read it yet?

- I'm sorry?
- The book. "Magpie Murders".

Alan told me he was going
to put me in it. As a character.

Yes, he did.
He made you the doctor.

Ah! Am I the killer?

I don't know.
I haven't finished it yet.

Would you excuse me?

Ah!

There really is no staying away
for you, is there?

How could I possibly stay away,
Detective Superintendent?

I was Alan's editor
for ten years.

Nice service, Vicar.

I take it you didn't know Alan
very well.

He didn't often come to church.

Well, he's there
permanently now.

- Melissa.
- Susan.

Hello.

- You remember my son, Freddy?
- Yes, of course.

But it's been a while.

I haven't seen you since
you were twelve or thirteen.

I don't remember.

Was it before or after
my father ruined my life?

Oh, come on, Freddy. There's
no need to be so dramatic.

- I'm really sorry.
- So am I.

- No more royalties.
- Mum!

Freddy, why don't you
go outside for five minutes.

- All right.
- I'll come and find you.

Mm.

He never forgave his father
for coming out.

And although the world
may be more understanding

about these things,
thank God,

Freddy had a horrible time,
and he still hasn't got over it.

But you forgave Alan.

Actually, being gay

may well have been
the nicest thing about him.

He wasn't easy to live with.

In a way, he blamed me
for Atticus Pund.

- Why?
- It was my idea.

Alan wanted to be Martin Amis
or Salman Rushdie -

not Agatha Christie.

He wrote two novels
about modern England,

politics,
the collapse of society,

but nobody was interested.

And then after we got married,

I suggested if he wanted to be
a published author,

he should write something that
people actually wanted to read.

A whodunit.

So he wrote
"Atticus Pund Investigates".

And the rest,
as they say, is...

- Mystery.
- Exactly.

- It made him rich.
- It made him miserable.

Were you ever happy with him,
Melissa?

It may surprise you to know it,
but as a matter of fact I was.

It's funny, really.
I was in a major relationship

with a Greek teacher
when I met him,

but I never really thought twice
about breaking that up.

I always knew that Alan
was going places.

Greek teacher?

Yeah, Andreas.
Do you know him?

Uh, yeah. I've... I've seen him,
uh, once or twice.

We were together almost a year
before I met Alan.

Is Andreas still teaching?

Um, I'm not sure.
But I think so, yeah.

Do say hello
if you run into him.

I often wonder
how he's getting on.

Well, it's good to see you,
Melissa.

You have no idea
what it was like.

- Did she tell you?
- Yeah.

He was the gay dad.

So I was the gay son.

"Gay boy."

You know,
I'd been happy at school.

I had friends.

Then it all stopped.

And he didn't care
about that either.

It was all about him.
That was all that ever mattered.

Do you think someone
pushed him off that roof?

Who told you he was pushed?

Maybe it was one of his lovers.

Or maybe it was just someone
who really hated his guts.

Hello, everyone.

Uh, I just wanted
to thank you all for coming.

And, uh, thank you, Tom,
for a very moving service.

Alan didn't believe in God
and he never went to church,

but he loved music and flowers,

so I'm sure he would have
enjoyed today.

Maybe some of you are here
who wonder about Alan and me.

The truth is, he could be
a difficult bugger,

but I was quite fond of him.

We had good times.

And we had bad times.
Whoo! Huh!

And in the end,

well, he left this house and,
uh, most of his money to me,

which is very good indeed.

I'm not staying here.

Uh, Jack White
has already made

a very generous offer
on Abbey Grange.

Thank you.

It's funny. Alan was always
trying to buy him out,

and in the end
it's the other way round.

I'm heading back to London.

Yeah, I never really fitted
into Suffolk.

Maybe it was Suffolk
that didn't fit into me.

So...

Goodbye, Alan.

We'll all miss you.

Some of us more than others.

To Alan.

That's it.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Congratulations.

- Sorry?
- Buying the house.

I don't think we've met,
have we?

I'm Susan Ryeland.
Alan's editor.

- Well, was.
- Sorry.

I haven't actually read
any of his books.

So are you going
to be moving in?

Ah, I haven't decided yet.

Alan wasn't an easy neighbour.

I hope you don't mind me
saying that,

but from the moment
he moved in,

he seemed to enjoy
picking fights.

Well, that was Alan for you.

Land disputes, right of way
disputes, noise disputes.

You know, I'd cut my lawn
on a Saturday morning,

five minutes later,
he'd be on the phone.

- Yeah, he could be difficult.
- Well, he wasn't difficult.

He was bloody impossible.

I think he took pleasure in it.

No, I'm buying the house cos
I wanna control who lives there.

I don't want to go
through all that again.

I can understand that.

Wasn't much of a turn-out,
was it?

For a world famous author.

Even one without many friends.

- Hello. How'd you get on?
- Uh...

I spoke to Melissa.

Ah, did she tell you anything
you don't already know?

Yeah, you could say that.

Look, I don't need
a lift off you.

Detective Superintendent Locke's
offered to take me into Ipswich.

I'll get a train back
from there.

You know he'll spend the entire
journey complaining about me.

It'll only be half an hour.

Oh, no, he'll go
the long way round

just to give himself
extra time.

Mm.

- Staying with your sister?
- Mm. See you Monday.

See you Monday.
Bye-bye.

Oh.

Back to the garage?

Oh, we can walk, huh.

No, no. Not after
what happened this morning.

Nothing too strenuous.

- If you insist.
- I do.

Here we are.

Just a minute.
Let me help you.

Oh, no, no, James.
I think I can manage from here.

Oh, mind your head.

Joy's persuaded me that I should
talk to you again, Mr Pund.

I don't want to. What happened
to my little brother, Sam,

it was a long time ago,

and I don't believe it's got
nothing to do with any of this.

Mum, Sir Magnus
and the rest of it.

I can see it's painful
for you, Robert.

And yet in the investigation
of a crime,

it is often the connections
we cannot see

that lead us to the truth.

Everything about Pye Hall
is rotten.

It's as if there is some sort
of curse on that bloody place.

It's never left me alone.

It was 1943 that you lost
your younger brother.

Who told you that?

In the cemetery,
I saw his resting place,

the date on the gravestone.

Yes. It was in the middle
of the war.

You're German, aren't you? What
were you doing in 1943, Mr Pund?

Robert!

It's reasonable to ask,
Miss Sanderling.

I was in a labour camp.

An enemy of the Nazis.

I dared to criticise them.

Unfortunately, too loudly.

My dad was in the RAF.

He was sent off to Boscombe
Down, leaving us all behind...

Mum, me, and Sam.

We were living on a farm,
and we were happy enough there.

But then Sir Magnus
needed a housekeeper,

so we moved
into the Lodge House,

which was on the grounds
of Pye Hall.

It was great at first.

I was fourteen,
Sam was twelve -

and we had it all to ourselves -
the gardens, the orchard,

Roman treasure in the wood.

Sir Magnus
was always kind to us.

And with dad away,

he could almost be like a father
when he was in the mood.

He had these
really old coins and...

A Roman coin
out of his collection.

That's right.

It was part of a treasure trove
they found on his land.

He'd hide one of them and
give us clues on how to find it.

You can't imagine
what it was like -

two kids, all that land, and
no one to tell us what to do.

The lake is where it happened.

Brent was there that day.

He'd taken against us
from the start.

Me and Sam made too much noise,

and our dog, Bella,
she worried the sheep,

so he was always
causing trouble.

The police questioned him
afterwards,

but he swore
he didn't see nothing.

So this is what happened.

It was a summer's day, and...

Sam and I went on a treasure
hunt, looking for a coin.

And we were excited, and
we were running around, and...

somehow we got separated. Now,
normally that wouldn't matter.

We were perfectly safe
in the grounds, but this time...

I don't know
what was going on in his head,

but Sam got the idea
that maybe it was in the lake...

or maybe in the bulrushes
next to the lake.

- Sam!
- Brent found him.

Put him down.

Sam, please. No.

Sam!

Wake up!

Sam!

Sam!

Sam!

Sam had drowned.

- He was twelve years old.
- Oh.

I'm so sorry.

Things happened very quickly
after that, but...

nothing was ever
the same again.

My father came home
from the RAF,

but it was all over
between him and Mum.

She blamed him,
because he hadn't been there.

And he blamed her
because she had.

Mum stayed on at Pye Hall.
God knows how.

Every day she had to walk
past the lake -

every day
she had to remember.

And what of you?

What about me?

I had nowhere else to go.

Oh, you said Sir Magnus
found your position here.

He always looked out for me.

He got me a job, yes.
And this flat.

And you never blamed him
for what had occurred?

If I say I did, Mr Pund, will
you accuse me of his murder?

Well, maybe I did blame
Sir Magnus for Sam's drowning.

But I also blame Brent.

And I blame my mother.

And I blame myself.

I'm looking
for Mr Max Ryeland.

Bed two.

Dad, it's Susan.

Can you hear me?

Katie said you wanted to see me.

I'm sorry.

You don't have to say that.

It was a long time ago.

What?

Leaving us.

What?

I left you?

For the nanny.

You left...

Mum, and me,
and Katie.

But it was...

It doesn't matter now.

- I've forgiven you.
- No, no. Not that.

There's nothing
to forgive. I...

I loved her.

We were happy.

So very happy.

I...

I'm sorry about you.

What we did,
it was wrong. You...

You never knew love.

You never married.

Never trusted a man...

because of us.

How dare you say that?

I never thought about
what you did, ever.

I'm only here bec...

I shouldn't have come.

We've got nothing to say.

How could he?

How...

could he do that?

Max.
My father.

He's only ever thought
of himself.

You ever think of him?

I try to forget him.

So, why are you so angry now?

You know, I'm sorry, but it's
really none of your business.

All right.

I blame him.

For what happened to my mother.

She died?

Everybody said
it was an accident.

She tried to cope,
she really did, but...

It was too much for her,
the shame of it.

She... She went away
for a few days

to the Lake District.

She left me and Katie behind,
and while she was there...

she went swimming.

They said it was an accident.

She was out of her depth,
but I never believed that.

You knew all along,
didn't you?

Oh...!

She's in the book.

She's in the book!
My father...

They're both there,
aren't they? All of it!

Oh, my God!

Oh, Susan!

I've been waiting for you.

I've been making dinner.

How was the funeral?

I've been to see dad.

Oh.

What... What happened?
What did he say?

You told him, didn't you?

You told Alan Conway
about Mum and Dad.

No... No!

Yes.

He knew it...

and he used it.

And it wasn't for the
entertainment of his readers.

It was just
for his own amusement.

And he did it in a way
that I wouldn't see it!

He cut up my life!

It's like a broken jigsaw,
but all the pieces are there!

Our father, Max Ryeland,
becomes Sir Magnus Pye.

Dad ran off with the nanny.

Sir Magnus has an affair
with the governess.

I don't know what you're
talking about, Susan,

I haven't read the book.

You don't need to read the book,
Katie. We are the book.

Our mother, Samantha,
drowned herself

because she was so ashamed
of what Max had done to her.

Did you tell him that?

I... I don't remember.

Well, there's a drowning
in the book, too.

It's a little boy called...

But that may have
nothing to do with us.

Maybe that's just
a coincidence.

The boy's name is Sam.

Samantha, Sam -
you think that's a coincidence?

Why?
Why would he do that?

Because that's
the kind of person he was!

He played games,

and they were always games
designed to hurt people!

He even gave the governess
a name - Miss Darnley -

and I've always wondered
about that

because she doesn't even
appear in the book.

I mean, why would you bother
to give her a name?

- And do you know why?
- No!

Darnley.

It's an anagram of Ryeland.
It's us!

I did... didn't do anything.

I didn't mean to...
We...

- We, uh, met in Woodbridge.
- Oh.

No, we bumped into each other,
and he invited me for coffee.

And I... Didn't I already
tell you that?

He was pretending to be nice.

And he seemed
very concerned about you.

And he was asking me questions
about you... and me.

And about the family,
and I...

You know,
it just seemed like chat.

I had no idea
that he was gonna use it!

Of course you didn't.
No one ever did.

I'm sorry.

It doesn't matter.

It wasn't your fault.

I should have known.
I should have seen it.

- I was his editor.
- It was my fault.

- No.
- It...

No.
You weren't to know.

Sue, do you want a drink?

Yeah.

A large one.

Sorry.

Five minutes.