Sister Boniface Mysteries (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 1 - Unnatural Causes - full transcript

- It's amazing!

Roll up,
roll up, coconut shy,

three balls, one try,
come on, come on there,

you look like you've got
a good right arm on you,

there we go.

Roll up, roll up!

Roll up, roll up, come
on there, three balls.

Hello, hello, excuse me?

Have you come to
work on the buses?

No, I'm on secondment to
the Metropolitan Police.

Although I had no idea



these parts of London
were quite so green.

May I trouble you for
directions to Scotland Yard?

Turn left at the
end of Lepers Lane,

then keep walking
for about 98 miles.

Detective Sergeant
Livingstone, I presume?

Sister Boniface,
at your service.

Inspector's at a murder scene,

so I'll fill you in
on the way, hop in!

- Get out the way!

Rotten timing, the
Mangold Worzel Festival.

World and his wife trampling
all over the crime scene.

Mangold Worzel?

Yes.

Imagine, if you will,



a large and rather
bad-tempered parsnip.

So Uncle Tom Cobley was
trying to knock the head

off old Aunt Sally.

Why? What has she done?

Oh, it's a local tradition.

Jolly good fun too.

Until someone bulls-eyed the
head and out dropped a corpse.

Okay, thank you, sister,

I can, I can take it from here.

Grace Pearson, 23,
worked as a housemaid,

Bellamy Hall, purse
in her coat pocket,

a shopping list, library
ticket and 10 bob.

So what do you think?

Well, I think we can
rule out robbery.

Ah, Sam Gillespie,
you must be Fred...

Felix.

Detective Sergeant
Felix Livingstone

from Hamilton, Barbados.

Hamilton, Bermuda, although
there's been a mix-up.

I have been, in fact,
seconded to Scotland Yard.

Ah, typical Met.

They know their arses
from their elbows,

if you'll pardon the
language, sister.

Oh, pardon granted, Sam.

I am predisposed to forgive.

Just put them on, unless
you want a lecture.

So, could you narrow
down time of death?

Well, given it's
a melter of a day,

I'd say no more than two hours.

What's under there?

Oh, that is interesting.

Look at that, cadaveric spasm.

It's a rare form of
muscular stiffening

associated with violent demise.

Anything, I don't know,

like cause of death
or murder weapon?

Petechiae in the eyes
suggests asphyxiation.

Let's have a look in her mouth.

Ooh gosh.

Dear lord.

What's that?

Hang on a minute.

And, your murder
weapon identified.

Imagine the scene, if you will.

The murderer holds her down,

so when she opens
her mouth to scream,

her airways fill with sawdust.

A slow and terrifying death.

- Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry.

Are you all right?

I think you got a little
bit in your mouth, there.

DS Felix Livingstone,
this is WPC Peggy Button.

Finest WPC in the county.

I'm the only WPC and the county.

Oh, sir, you might want
to take a statement

from Miss Thimble.

I thought it might
be a lovers' tiff.

I was walking past, and
I heard someone say,

"You're a parasite."

It did seem a little odd.

You're a parasite,
her exact words?

If you say so, dear.

A mummer, eh?

So you didn't get
a look at his face?

A mummer?

The blokes dressed as haystacks.

Could you manage a stab
at the time, Miss Thimble?

Oh yes, it was tea time.

Perhaps in terms of an
approximate chronological time?

It was 1:13 and 17 seconds.

Ah, that's very proximate.

The church clock had just
struck the quarter hour,

and is 1 minute 43 seconds fast.

We're fundraising
to have it reset.

Right.

Thank you.

Ar, pick up our ol' Aunt Sally

at the ol' dipper ar' two ack.

You getting this down?

I don't speak, Welsh?

There's no flies on you, Tom.

He's from Barbados.

- Bermuda.
- Bermuda.

I am from Bermuda.

We will, Tom.

The Mountie always gets his man.

It's the local dialect,
you'll get used to it.

I am not planning
on staying here.

Translation, Tom
picked up Aunt Sally

from the Lucky Dip
tent at 2:00 PM,

failing to notice there
was a body inside.

Now, Miss Thimble saw Grace
arguing with a mummer at-

1:13 and 17 seconds.

Which gives us a
murder window of-

46 minutes and 43 seconds.

So, where to next?

Bellamy Hall.

So Halcroft Bellamy
of Bellamy Steelworks

died six months ago,

leaving the lot to
his nephews and niece,

Edwin, Fabian and Electra.

Does Grace have any
family we can contact?

She was an orphan.

We had that in common,

except while she was
raised in an orphanage,

we were sent here to my uncle.

Well, you were very fortunate.

A witness mentioned
a lovers' tiff,

did Grace have a young man?

I very much doubt it.

Electra fill her head with all
sorts of feministic fancies.

Women should be
independent of men

and have careers,
that sort of nonsense.

I see you are a mummer.

Oh, yes, we both were.

For our sins, it's
expected of us Bellamys.

He means male Bellamys.

I take it you disapprove?

Of the menfolk prancing around

while their
womenfolk serve food?

Have you tried prancing around

dressed as a haystack
in 70 degree heat?

Right, well, do you
mind if Sister Boniface

takes a look around
Grace's bedroom?

Who the blazes is
Sister Boniface?

Police scientific advisor.

I admire a woman with a career.

My uncle believed that men
were created to serve God

and women to serve men.

Two careers.

Actually three, if
you count wine-making.

"To Grace, with love Electra.

The mind is not a
vessel to be filled,

but a fire to be kindled."

You were teaching her to read?

All she ever wanted
was to escape

a life of domestic servitude.

We were alike in that respect.

She wasn't just,

we were friends.

For years, my only friend,

I don't know what I'll
do without her.

Oh!

Here.

Thank you.

I thought we're
meeting at a laboratory.

Ah, ye of little faith.

Evening, Reg.

Oi, you're paying for that!

Nuns, making alcohol?

Our lord asked for poverty,
chastity and obedience.

Didn't say anything
about sobriety.

Amen to that.

Did her room turn up anything?

Fact, all library users
are issued four tickets.

One was found in her purse,

deduction, Grace
borrowed three books,

two in her room and
the third is missing.

However, it's clear from the
dust patterns on the bookshelf,

it was there no later
than this morning.

Stick with it, there will
be a point eventually.

Now Grace was a spit
spot sort of a girl,

everything in its place.

So she wouldn't mislay a
library book and risk a fine.

Is any of this significant?

Well, sometimes the
absence of something

is as significant
as its presence.

Right, we'll check
with the library,

and we need to do
a background check

on the Bellamy brothers.

Till then, I say
we call it a night.

I haven't been in contact
with Scotland Yard yet.

Oh it's too late now,

and the hotels will all be
closed for the Worzel Festival.

Nothing for it but
to throw yourself

at the mercy of my landlady.

Will she have a room?

Well, I'm her only lodger

and they're not exactly
battering down the doors

in account of Mrs. Clam being,

well, Mrs. Clam is, er,

let's just say Mrs. Clam is-

No alcohol, no helping
yourself to food or drink

from the kitchen, no laundry,

no radios or telephone calls
after 9:00 PM and no women.

I know what you
policemen are like.

Well, I am engaged
to be married.

Oh, congratulations.

Who's the lucky girl?

Victoria.

Two guineas a week.

Oh, I'm not planning on staying-

Breakfast and evening
meal are provided.

And I hope you're not
expecting any foreign food.

What are you doing
up at this hour?

Reverend Mother
Adrian, just reading.

Sister Peter takes it for
her knitting patterns,

so it was in her work basket,

and removing it seemed
perilously close

to breaking the eighth, so-

You aren't, from memory,
much of a knitter?

No, but it has some
interesting articles.

"How to keep your
husband honeymoon happy."

Have you something
to confess, sister?

Oh!

Very good, no, no-

I'll spare you from
breaking the ninth

and assume it's to do with your
extracurricular activities.

Though why the Mother House
allow it is a mystery.

Make sure you turn the
lights off when you go.

Bingo!

Now we know Grace
called in at the shop

on her way to the fair.

Fact, there are seven
items on the shopping list,

all of which were in her
shopping basket, except for one,

a copy of this week's
"Albion Home Maker."

Begging the question,
did the murderer take it,

and if so, for what reason?

I've got a feeling
you're going to tell me.

"Mrs. Arnold's Advice."

"My fiance won't go
to church on Sundays,

should I call off the wedding?"

Almost certainly yes.

You would say that.

Well, Mrs. Arnold concurs, look.

"If he's lazy in this instance,

it bodes ill for his character."

My lack of desire
to go to church

is only outweighed by my lack
of desire to find a wife,

-so if you would just-
-Yes, well anyway,

if you look at the
bottom of the page here.

G-P, Grace Pearson.

"I advise you to
go to the police."

I think we need to have a
word with this Mrs. Arnold.

Oh, yes.

Am I to assume this is
to do with Grace Pearson?

No comment.

I'm not really feeling the
quid pro quo here, Sam.

She was 23 years old and
her life was taken brutally,

and in the cruellest of ways.

Thank you, sister.

See, you only had to ask nicely.

Mrs. Arnold, the
coppers wanna word.

Come on.

"Dear Mrs. Arnold,

my employer died recently
due to natural causes.

I now suspect it was a
murder, but I have no proof.

Should I tell someone?

Please don't print
this letter, G.P."

No one thought to hand this in?

Well, it's called "Mrs.
Arnold's Advice," Sam,

not Mrs. Arnold
snitches to the police.

Yes, very good.

Halcroft Bellamy's obituary.

Took some wordsmanship,
I can tell you,

as his demise was a
blessing to us all.

Rich as Croesus, but
mean as Mephistopheles.

Cause of death?

A heart attack at
his birthday dinner.

Any suspicious circumstances?

Well, Chief Constable Lowsley
obviously didn't think so,

he was one of the guests.

Look, Sam, if anything
comes of this,

and the nationals
get hold of it first,

I will make your
life a living hell.

And if there is so
much as a word of this

in your evening edition,

I will return the favour.

Well done, lad, show 'em
what coppers are made of!

Anyway, it
was a ghastly affair.

He made us eat invalid food.

I don't know what he
spent his millions on,

but it certainly
wasn't his wine cellar.

Anyway, the interminable meal
was finally coming to an end

when young Master Bellamy
rose to propose a toast.

I'd like to raise a glass in
toast, happy birthday uncle,

and good health
for years to come.

- Happy birthday.
- Happy birthday, Bellamy.

Keep your elbow level with
your throwing shoulder!

Buffoon.

Anyway, his nurse was
with him in minutes,

said his ulcer had burst and
brought on a heart attack.

Did anything strike
you as suspicious?

Ah, unpleasant old
man dies suddenly

and makes his nephews and niece

rich beyond their
wildest dreams?

That sort of thing, sir.

Occam's
Razor, Gillespie.

He was in poor health.

Poison wasn't an option
as we'd all ate and drank

the same things.

Action stations.

Er, if you want to
speak to the nurse,

she's manning the
first aid tent.

Libby, er, Libby Libby
Libby, Libby Mayfield.

I went to the library.

Grace's missing book was
Plutarch's "Parallel Lives."

Heavy reading for a housemaid.

Don't say I told you so.

I withdrew the only other copy

in the library, unfortunately-

How's your Ancient Greek?

Decidedly rusty.

She's just being modest.

I need to have a word
with the chief constable.

Excuse me, thank you.

Ah, you must be the new boy.

Chief Constable Hector Lowsley.

Detective Sergeant Livingstone.

Sir, there seems to
have been a mistake.

I should be at Scotland Yard.

Well, that's a
grave one, ballcock!

Someone will be
held accountable.

Devil knows who.

So how are you finding
England's green and pleasant?

A bit of a culture shock, sir.

Sister Boniface?

I know exactly what
you're thinking.

Waste of a brain.

Double starred first
from Cambridge,

PhD in Biochemical,
thingummy, Science.

Which came in jolly useful
during the war, I can tell you.

Yes, MI5 wanted her after, but
she decided to take the veil.

Ah, women.

Still, the spooks'
loss was our gain.

Aye aye, let battle commence!

With luck and
careful management,

he could've lived years.

Sadly, luck wasn't on his side.

And you diagnosed
a heart attack?

The sudden and violent
onset of symptoms

were consistent with
a cardiac arrest

brought on by a
burst gastric ulcer.

Abdominal pains,
convulsions, hematemesis.

The doctor who attended later
concurred with my diagnosis.

What was Bellamy
like as an employer?

Cruel, selfish and irascible.

Which begs the question,
why did you stay?

He paid well.

Excuse me, first Mangold
injury of the year.

Come this way, thank you.

Spit it out.

Fact, Grace suspected

Halcroft Bellamy's
death was unnatural,

and fact, the
symptoms described,

abdominal pains,
convulsions, hematemesis,

are also consistent
with cyanide poisoning.

Cyanide poisoning.

Query means, as all the guests

shared the same food and drink.

I'm still waiting on
criminal record reports.

Edwin, 27, Fabian,
24, both single,

both employed by
the family firm.

Dutiful enough nephews
by all accounts,

although Fabian had a spot
of trouble at university

and was sent down on
a disciplinary matter.

Electra lived at home
until her uncle's death,

schooled by a governess
until she was old enough

to act as her uncle's companion.

Now reads Classics at
Girton College, Cambridge,

where she is president
of the Feminist Society.

Oh, bravo.

Also, Halcroft Bellamy
reported the theft

of a pair of Queen
Anne candlesticks.

The complaint was withdrawn,

but here is the crime
file from WPC Button.

Good work.

Anything from you, sister?

Post-mortem lividity.

So, when the heart stops
beating, blood pools in the body,

in this case,
leaving the imprint

of an object clutched
in her hand at death.

Nothing found on the body
or at the crime scene,

but maybe it was
removed by the killer.

I'll have to magnify the
photograph and get a clearer image.

So Grace confides
in Mrs. Arnold,

and on the day it's
printed in the magazine,

she gets murdered.

The same day the Bellamy
brothers were at the fair

dressed as mummers.

We need to talk to
the Bellamys again.

Yeah.

Any luck with Scotland Yard?

I'm still trying to track
down the relevant officer

to speak to.

Well, we've got this, if
you need to make some calls.

Are you ready, sister?

Oh, Roger Wilco, sir.

She never did grasp I before E.

Well, utter rot.

Of course uncle Hal
wasn't murdered.

We'd be pretty lousy murderers

to bump him off in front of
the chief constable of police.

I believe all the
guests ate and drank

the same that night?

Broth and boiled chicken.

The only other thing he
ate was half a peach,

same dessert every night.

And before you ask, it wasn't
poisoned because as always,

I ate the other half.

My uncle abhorred food wastage.

Now, you both took part
in the parade yesterday?

Oh, this is intolerable.

First, you accuse us
of murdering our uncle,

and now our maid.

Not at all, sir.

But Grace was last seen
alive with a mummer,

and there was over
30 in the procession,

and I'm duty bound to
follow up on every one.

Of course, Inspector,
whatever we can do to help.

Although Dr. Locard
maintains the perpetrator

brings something
to the crime scene

and leaves with
something from it,

I doubt he was ever
faced with one of these.

Literally like looking for
a needle in a haystack.

Strange.

Can you confirm that these
belong to your uncle?

Possibly, why do you ask?

Well, considering he's
been dead for six months,

we were wondering who
wore them yesterday?

Yes, all three pairs have
fresh grass and mud stains,

and the legs on this
pair have been trimmed

with a sharp blade for a wearer

of approximately five foot
four and three quarter inches.

Oh, you
sly old dog.

Yes, all right.

I wore them to the
parade, so arrest me.

What the hell were you thinking?

If you'd been found out,

all merry hell would
have broken loose.

Why did you lie, Miss Bellamy?

The inevitable lecture
from my brother, obviously.

It was a symbolic
act of rebellion.

Proving that with
gender concealed,

there is no distinction
between sexes.

Our sister doesn't conform
to traditional female roles.

Put a sock in it, Fabe.

- Look, enough!

Is that all, Inspector?

Yes, for now.

We know where to find you
if there's anything further.

Symbolic act of rebellion.

God.

Now, something tells me
you're going to like this.

Almost there, bear with me.

Oh, and, voila!

Is that an F?

I would say possibly an item
of jewellery or cuff links.

I think it's time I
brought Fabian Bellamy

in for questioning.

And I'm late for an
optician's appointment.

Just before he died,

your uncle reported the theft

of two Queen Anne candlesticks.

He claimed that they were taken

by a member of the household.

Did he know about your arrest

for the possession
of illegal drugs?

Hm, what do you think?

I think you would have
been out on your ear

without any inheritance.

And then the candlesticks
mysteriously turned up.

I owed money to
the wrong people.

So yes, I resorted to
stealing the family silver.

Didn't think he'd notice
the odd candlestick,

but when he went to the
police, I panicked, and-

And you killed him.

No, no, I
fessed up to Edwin,

and on certain conditions,
he saved my skin.

Got the candlesticks
out of hock.

What conditions?

Forced me to a drying out
clinic for dope addicts.

Much as I cursed
him at the time,

I am what you see
before you now,

a sober and responsible
member of society.

Don't judge me, Inspector.

Our childhood ended
when our parents died

and we were sent to live with
a man who hated children.

Edwin coped by playing
possum, towing the line,

being groomed for
the family firm,

forbidden to marry because
uncle didn't approve.

Electra, well, Electra
buried herself in books.

Whereas I chose sweet oblivion,

to fade far away,
dissolve and quite forget.

You said your brother
was forbidden to marry.

E-F-A-T-H-O.

And now?

F-E-A-T-H-O, oh!

My trip to the optician was
successful on two levels,

prescription
woefully out of date,

and a Damascene moment
with a Snellen chart.

So under closer magnification,
there's a striation, you see?

Look, just here.

This isn't an F, it's an E.

Electra or Edwin.

Funny you should say that,

'cause Fabian
Bellamy just coughed

that his brother Edwin fell in
love with his uncle's nurse.

When his uncle found out,

he hit the roof and
banned the match.

The $64,000 question is

why you didn't think to mention

that Edwin Bellamy
was your fiance?

I didn't think it relevant.

Halcroft's death left him
free to marry who he choose,

without any risk
to his inheritance.

A death that you diagnosed
as natural causes,

but also indicated
cyanide poisoning,

as any good nurse
would have known.

Halcroft Bellamy was a monster

who treated those children
like his playthings.

Is it any wonder that they
are all scarred mentally

or that if I had suspicions,

that's the reason I
kept them to myself?

But it wasn't Edwin, I
can assure you of that.

How so?

Because if he isn't
brave enough to stand up

for the woman he loves,

then he'd hardly be brave
enough to kill for me.

Can I ask where you
were two days ago

between 1:00 and 2:00 PM?

Here, on duty.

And before you ask, no,

I did not see any
patients during that time,

so if there's nothing else,

the Mangold final
starts in five minutes

and I'm expecting a rush
of blunt force traumas.

Can we have your full name
for our records, please?

Elizabeth Joan Mayfield.

Hello, Button.

From Scotland Yard, sergeant.

Apologies for the error,

report to DCI James,
Scotland Yard,

at your earliest
convenience.

We were just getting used
to having you around.

Hello?

It's all here in Plutarch.

Miss Thimble misheard.

Grace didn't say parasite,
she said Parysatis,

a classical poisoner of some
ingenuity, it transpires.

Wait, I need to write this down.

Here, take this.

No, I can't take it!

Hello?

Hello?

Don't think about
calling back, you hussy!

Right.

So, this is what you get up to

when I'm safely
asleep in my bed?

Women telephoning at
the dead of night.

It is barely gone past
nine, and I assure you,

there is a perfectly
innocent explanation.

That woman she's, she's a nun.

I don't know what counts as
innocent where you come from,

but in this country,

it is moral turpitude
of the highest order,

and I will not have
it under my roof!

Nor will you have to,

for I shall be leaving tomorrow,

for which I am
profoundly grateful.

Great Slaughter should
be called Bedlam,

as it is peopled with lunatics.

How dare you?

My bill shall be settled
before my departure.

I bid you a good
night, Mrs. Clam.

Wait, the sister's
got something.

Rendezvous at Bellamy
Hall in the morning.

And you just do as she says?

No, well.

Somewhat annoyingly,
she is usually right.

I came here to learn
from the cutting edge

of modern policing.

Your procedures and systems
are Victorian, at best,

and your partnered with a nun.

Exactly, no one can
resist a wimple,

and we have the best
cleanup rate in the county.

So, you on for a
collar before you go?

The only thing I
should be on tomorrow,

is the first train to London.

Excuse me.

DI Gillespie, I have a warrant
to search these premises.

Then you better come in.

So, Inspector, have
you and the sister

finished rooting
through our valuables?

This is all a bit
Agatha Christie.

Grace suspected that
your uncle's death

was due to unnatural causes.

When she raised those
suspicions, she was murdered.

She was in illiterate housemaid

with a head filled
with nonsense.

Grace wasn't illiterate,
Electra had taught her to read.

Shortly before she died,

she was seen arguing
with a mummer.

Now, the witness overheard
her call them a parasite.

But what she actually
said was a Per, a Para-

A Parysatis.

Parysatis.

And who's she, the
cat's mother?

The wife of Emperor
Darius, of Persia,

Who according to Plutarch,

poisoned her rival at
a banquet of guests,

all dining on the same food.

Just, um-

I don't read Ancient Greek.

Oh right, right.

I'm a bit rusty, so.

Just get on with it.

"So taking a little bird,

Parysatis halved it
with a little knife,

smeared with poison on one side,

thus wiping the poison off
upon one part only of the bird.

The undefiled and
wholesome part,

she then put into her
own mouth and ate.

And to Stateira, she
gave the poisoned part,

who died in convulsions
and great suffering."

I'm afraid you've
lost me.

Well every night, Electra
shared a peach with your uncle.

Only this time, his
half was lethal.

You taught Grace to read
rather too well, it seems.

Preposterous.

Not to mention unprovable.

Not if we exhume the body

and test it for
traces of cyanide.

I've had enough of this.

I'm gonna contact our solicitor.

I believe you need burden
of proof to exhume a body.

Reasonable suspicion will do it.

But as you asked, sister?

Oh yes,

you left a signature
clutched in Grace's hand

at the time of death,

and though removed afterwards,
it had already left its mark.

We found this in your room.

I told her the wisdom of
the world was in Plutarch.

I never imagined she'd
actually read it.

"The Albion Home Maker"?

Have I taught you
nothing, my dear?

What're you doing, Electra?

Playing the men
at their own game.

What's so compelling in
Mrs. Arnold's Advice?

Give it back.

Electra!

Why would you want to
go to the police, Grace?

The wisdom of the world, you
said, contained in one book.

I wanted to surprise you,

but then I realised,
you are Parysatis.

Grace was my only friend,

but the summit of
her aspirations

was a nice little office job

where she wouldn't be
on her feet all day.

Whereas I am destined to be
a someone of significance.

Electra Bellamy, I am
arresting you for the murders

of Halcroft Bellamy
and Grace Pearson.

You do not need to say anything
but anything you do say-

No, she doesn't.

Take my car.

There's, er, there's
money in there, and a gun.

Be careful, it's loaded.

Typical of you to leave it
till now to surprise me, Edwin.

I tried my best.

I'm just sorry,

I'm sorry I wasn't good enough.

I'll shoot anyone who
tries to stop her.

Right, well, as it looks
like we're in for a wait,

is anyone up for
a rubber of Whist?

Only if we're playing for money.

Miss Bellamy.

May I?

They're void in spades, you
should be counting the cards.

I'm sorry, I got distracted

by being held
hostage at gunpoint.

Well, could the hostage taker
please pass us the port?

Might be here some
time.

I think I'd rather get shot.

Three rubbers of bloody Whist,

and it wasn't even loaded!

Well, if I'm not brave enough
to save the woman I love,

hardly brave enough
to load a gun.

Oh, Edwin!

You ruddy idiot, they'll
still throw the book at you!

Being an accessory
after the fact,

false imprisonment and
assaulting a police officer

with a card game!

I don't expect you to wait.

Oh, he's right,
you are an idiot!

I fell in love with you, I
never expected you to change.

Ah, Button.

Impeccable timing, as always.

Mr. Bellamy's car was found
near the station, sir,

abandoned, we thought it
might have been stolen.

Right, arrest him.

Come on, what are
you waiting for?

Right you are, sir.

Arrest him for what, sir?

Where are you heading, again?

Oxford, a meeting with my tutor.

It's a tragedy, worthy
of Grecian epic.

Orphans imprisoned in a gilded
tower, guarded by a monster.

Poor children, they
never stood much chance

of a happy ending.

How long will Edwin
get in prison?

It depends on the charges.

False imprisonment alone
should get him life.

Well, the gun was unloaded,

so technically he wasn't armed.

I would hardly a rubber of
Whist a hostage situation.

The law won't see it that way.

Although it would make
it quite a headline.

Police inspector forced
to play Whist at gunpoint.

Stop the train!

Stop, stop!

Stop the train!

Scotland Yard, how exciting.

No doubt you'll be glad to see
the back of Great Slaughter.

Oh, I will.

Next stop, Bicester.

Change for Botley line and
trains for Basingstoke.

That's me.

I thought you were
getting off at Oxford.

My tutor lives on the outskirts,

it's as quick to get
the bus from Bicester.

I must ask you to remain
here, Miss Bellamy.

I must beg to differ, sarge.

Quid pro quo.

Buy you a drink to say thanks.

He's a
long way from home.

Someone should be with
him when he wakes up.

Sir, Edwin Bellamy, sir,

what am I charging him with?

Possession of an
unlicensed firearm.

Felix.

Felix?

Victoria?

Felix.

You're here?

He's awake.

You have a visitor.

You're quite the hero.

Electra Bellamy was
arrested at the scene

and is now being held
for trial at HMP Sonning.

You made the front page.

I think they overestimate-

The Lord Lieutenant
was extremely chuffed,

so much so, and given
that his brother-in-law

is the Commissioner for
the Metropolitan Police,

they've agreed that we can
hang on to you for a while!

That's, that's...

It's my pleasure, all decided.

Congratulations.

- Thank you.
- I think he's pleased.

Yes.

Thank you.

You
know what we should do,

we should celebrate.

Yes, well, I've got
to tee off in half an hour,

so I can't hang
around, I'm afraid.