Sister Boniface Mysteries (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 5 - Scoop! - full transcript

So how about it, Nancy?

A comedy about nuclear weapons.

Satire. Mocking your
husband and his government

for being so in love with them.

Charles will be furious.
Please write it.

God, my husband's dull.

People aren't
interested in bombs.

They want romance, seduction,

and me.

Isn't that right, Professor?

Yes, Mrs Kelly.



Please forgive my
wife, Professor.

The film parts of drying up
and so is her self respect.

Charles.

We were about to report
you as a missing person.

Well, you know P.M
likes to chat, darling.

You all right there, Professor?

Uh, yes, Minister.

He's worried about
poor Mary's headache,

aren't you, Professor?

Hmm.

So am I. The poor girl
didn't look at all well.

Go and check on her,
please will you, Alice?

Mary Sparkes, 22 years old,

secretary to the country's
chief scientific advisor.



You know who springs to mind?

Marilyn Monroe?

Victor Dean, found at
the bottom of the stairs

in 'Murder Must Advertise'.

Turned out he'd been
killed by a catapult.

Right. Well
eagle-eyed Felix here

noticed something
odd about this one.

The cut on her head,
it's quite deep.

I thought.

Oh, yes. So
we would have expected

some arterial spray, no
sign of a ecchymosis either.

Ecchymosis?

There's no bruising.

In other words?

Young Mary was already dead
when she fell down the stairs.

Are you sure?

I'd bet my Lord Peter
Wimsey collection on it.

Oh, jolly good work, Sergeant.

Oh.

What is it, Sister?

It's her pupils.

They're like pin pricks. It
suggests some kind of toxin.

The minister of
defence and poisoning.

Something tells me this
is gonna get messy.

The maid who found
her is on her way.

Poor girl.

All that champagne must've
affected her balance.

Inspector, might I have a word?

Uh-hmm.

This is a delicate time
for our government.

Can I urge you to keep news
of this terrible accident

from the press? At least
for the time being.

I'll do what I can, Minister.

Ah, here's Alice now.

This is quite the get-up.

Do you have a nurses
outfit as well?

I'm working on a story and it
just got a whole lot bigger.

Enlighten us. But
keep your voice down.

Well, as you all know,
Charles Streatham

is everybody's bet for next P.M.

He's also champion
of the government's.

Traditional Values Campaign.

Ah, yes. Monogamy,
abstention, religion.

A most commendable initiative.

Also known as the campaign
for the end of fun.

Go on...

Well,

I picked up rumours that
Mr. Traditional Values

was, in fact, having an affair.

So I pulled in a favour with
a contact in the kitchen here.

And?

The rumours are true.

Or should I say, they were true.

Mary Sparkes?

Good Lord!

I saw the proof.

Which was?

A look between them.

Mary then claimed a
headache and went to bed.

Moments later, Charles
said he had a phone call

with the prime minister.

You call that proof?

Well it's enough for me to run
a story under the headline,

'Murder Of Defence
Supremo's Mistress.'

Who said anything about murder?

Spare me, Sam. The sister
doesn't get called accidents.

I'm saying nothing.

Sister, look me in the eye
and tell me the girl slipped.

I rest my case.

Fine, but you have to
leave the house now.

Or I stay and help
you find the killer.

Think about it, Sam.
I can go anywhere,

listen in on conversations
you can't get near.

She's right. Extra pair of
eyes and ears and all that.

Oh, I'll do anything
you asked me to.

You do not publish
until I say so.

And you never ever tell
anyone you were in this house.

Deal.

You have previous on
breaking your word.

Oh, I won't this time.

Poisoned?

Only according to
a nun, darling.

Let's be clear about this.

How utterly thrilling.

Aw, it's nonsense.

If that girl was poisoned,

it was with too much champagne.

And you are, um, Anthony
Kelly, the playwright?

The far-left ying to
Charles' centrist yang.

Ivy and I go back to Cambridge.

Ivy?

His nickname for me. Don't ask.

And we all know who
you are, Mrs Kelly.

I very much liked, 'My
Love of the Martian'.

Oh, please.

Call me Jocelyn.

Jocelyn.

This is supposed
to be a working weekend.

S-sorry, you are?

Professor Azim Thomas.

M.O.D's Chief
Scientific Advisor.

So Mary Sparkes was your
secretary, Professor Thomas?

Yes.

The best a man could have.

How well did you
know Mary, Minister?

Not at all well, I'm afraid.

Sorry, I don't
mean to be insensitive,

but how long will this take?

Only I have a very important
audition on Monday.

Well you must all
remain in the house

until further notice.

But Inspector, if one
of us is a killer,

aren't we all in great
danger if we stay here?

There'll be a police
presence around the clock,

but I certainly
would stay vigilant.

My dad reckons World
War Three is coming

and the Russians are
gonna to destroy us all.

Your father was an
excellent butcher, Peggy.

Let's just hope he's
a terrible prophet.

Oh, Minister.

Sister.

Any, um

progress?

Not yet. Still, early days.

Right. Well...

Carry on.

What was that all about?

I suspect he may have
been looking for this.

'My study, 10:30 PM. Think
Marilyn Munroe. C, kiss.'

An assignation
coinciding with the time

of Mary's death. From C.

Miss Penny was right.

It would seem so.

They'll have to compare
handwriting samples.

So, Mary, heart racing, no
doubt, came here to prepare

for her tryst. Moments later,
she died on the stairs.

Say where was the poison hidden?

Fervour. Audrey
Hepburn wears that.

The world's most
expensive perfume,

according to Woman's Hour,

New box. Just opened.

I wonder...

Aw, my, my. It must be destiny.

On Monday, I'm auditioning
for a Hollywood musical.

As a nun.

Oh, gosh.

She's a free spirit.

Falls in love with
a father of seven.

Ends up fleeing the Nazis.

Oh, sounds just like
sister Hildegard.

Married a chiropodist
from Peterborough,

and now has four boys under six.

The songs are all
pretty forgettable,

but I do it for the money.

It's down to me
or Julie Andrews.

Well, the very best
of luck with that.

You know, Sister, I find
it incredibly helpful

to prepare in the
clothes of my character.

I don't suppose you
could lend me a wimple?

Oh, um, yes. No, I
don't see why not.

Wonderful. Maybe there
is a God after all.

A nun? Well she must be a
very, very good actress.

Sister?

Look at this.

Another candidate
for our poisoned.

Ah.

Good morning, Sister.

Morning. Did you
pull an all-nighter?

Well, as Miss Bronte says,

'A ruffled mind makes
a restless pillow.'

Ha! Spare wimple, Sister?

Oh, yes. So that's
for Jocelyn Kelly.

Turns out she's something
of a method actor.

So, my research
tells me Miss Jocelyn Kelly

has only remained fully
clothed in one film.

A remake of 'Little Women'.

Play to your strengths, I say.

Anything else on
any of our suspects?

Well, Professor Thomas has

some serious
scientific pedigree.

Did you know he once ran

the nation's chemical weapons
programme at Porton Down?

Chemical weapons?
Doesn't seem the type.

So is this definitely the
minister's handwriting?

Well the alignment,
the pressure,

the flourishes on the Y's
and T's. Unquestionably.

Huh. So much for Mr
Traditional Values.

Hmm. Any joy with our M.O?

Well no nasties found in
Mary's champagne glass.

Water or soap.

But she used this perfume
for the first time,

just before she died,

and using good old fashioned

distillation and chromatography,
I extracted this.

My spectrometer is trying
to put a name to it,

but it's unpleasant,
unstable, and most definitely

not a standard
ingredient of Fervour.

So this is our poison?

Oh, it seems highly likely.

Superlative work as
ever, Sister. Any prints?

Only Mary's, I'm afraid.

Hmm, shame.

Still, it seems if
we find who gave her

that doctored perfume, we
should find our killer.

Yeah.

And I know just where to start.

So, how can
I help you, gentlemen?

We have
confirmed that this

is your handwriting, Minister.

According to this,
you were with Mary

at the time she died.

Honesty is probably best,
given the circumstances.

Hmm. Mrs. Streatham must
not hear about this,

do you understand?

I waited here for half an
hour but she didn't turn up.

I assumed she'd gone to bed.

So you went to check.

No, I went straight back
to the sitting room.

You gave this to Mary.

I've never seen that before.

Well she couldn't have
afforded it herself,

unless she had
another wealthy lover.

I'm obliged to ask
this, Minister.

Was Mary blackmailing you?

Aw, what?

Your reputation,

your chances of getting
into Downing Street,

all depended on
Mary keeping quiet.

Your marriage too,
by the sounds of it.

Oh, don't be absurd.

There wasn't a malicious
bone in that girl's body.

God bless her soul.

What a hypocrite!

But is her a murderer,
though, Felix?

Poison requires planning.
A government minister

would surely choose
somewhere more discreet

than his own home.

Okay. I'll go see what I can
find on the other suspects.

Good man.

Good. God.

So..

What do you wear in bed, Sister?

Oh, um, well, um...

I can't lie. I've
always had a soft spot

for Woolworth's pyjamas.

Here's my
Captain Von Trapp.

He's certainly handsome enough.

Uh-hmm.

I want you to run
a scene with me.

Uh, acting's not
really my thing.

From So Maria.

Right, um, 'So, Maria,

have you found what
you are looking for?'

I think I have.

Uh, I know I have.

I love you.

Oh, Captain.

Oh!

Butterfingers.

Um, I'd better go and
give Alice a hand.

But Captain, we haven't
finished our scene.

Leave the man alone,
for God's sake.

They're only auditioning her

because the director
owes me a favour.

Mmm.

She hasn't got a hope in hell.

I hope you burn in hell.

Never marry an actress.

Oh, I'm heading back to the lab.

My spectrometer calls.

The drop on the floor
outside Mary's room?

Uh-hmm.

It was Brandy.

That was close.

Thank you.

My pleasure...

Captain.

So?

Well Jocelyn Kelly was
so drunk last night,

she got lost on the
way out of the bathroom

and ended up in the library.
It was only eight o'clock.

Maybe she was still drunk.

No, she's just barmy.

You know she slapped
Elizabeth Taylor

at the Cleopatra
premiere, and had a fight

with Audrey Hepburn in
a Los Angeles restaurant

about eating disorders.

I think I prefer her
holler and scream.

Was there any tension
between her and Mary Sparkes?

Oh, no more than you'd expect,

given Mary was half her age

and getting all
the male attention.

You were right by the
way, about the affair.

But I just don't
think he's our man.

Well, let's see.

We just need to find the proof

that Mary was blackmailing him.

Be careful, Ruth.

I can handle myself.

I don't suppose Jocelyn Kelly

was drinking Brandy
the other night?

No. Anthony Kelly was, though.

Did he leave the sitting room?

Once. To get more
cigarettes from his room.

When was that?

Not long after Mary went to bed.

I thought something was going on

between Charles and the girl.

So I went to check if she
really did have a headache.

And?

There was a key in the lock.
I couldn't see anything.

So I went back to
the sitting room.

Why were you so interested?

Because I cared about Nancy.

I don' want her getting hurt.

And did you tell Nancy
Streatham about your suspicions?

Without any proof.

What good would
have come from that?

Charles?

Charles!

Darling.

What did the police want?

Oh, I just, just routine stuff.

They know, don't
they? About her.

Hmm, Nancy,
for the last time.

There was nothing going
on with that girl.

Oh, spare me, Charles.

Why in God's name did I
give you another chance?

Nancy?

Nancy?

Nancy?

Whew.

So that perfume
didn't kill her?

Our mystery ingredient turns out

to be seresium diflouride.

It's unpleasant but it
would have given Mary

a tummy ache at worst.

So, how did she die?

Well, I think this
was a binary poison.

Not one but two compounds
combining in Mary's body

to create a single deadly toxin.

I suspect that perfume
contained the second compound.

And what was the first.

Quite possibly ingested by Mary

from something in this room.

I mean, it all sounds
a bit elaborate.

There's a lot to be
said for binary poison.

Safer to carry around,
easier to camouflage.

Now, why isn't
that in an ashtray?

So does our playwright
have a motive?

The opposite. Anthony
Kelly clearly has the hots

for Nancy Streatham.

Mary, the marriage wrecker
was good news for him.

Inspector!

It's Miss Penny.

So Nancy Streatham knew
about Charles and Mary?

Hell hath no fury
like a wife scorned.

But I thought you said that

Charles Streatham
was the murderer.

I know. I found this
in his shredder.

'I can't wait to see this
evening. You make me so happy.'

'Mary, kiss, kiss.'

Hardly reeks of blackmail.

Streatham has no idea
you were in his study?

None.

Look, I need this story, okay?

You need it?

A contact at The Times
told me on the QT,

there's a job for me there.
I, I just need one big scoop.

The Times in London?

My dream job ever
since I was eight.

I promised my father
I'd get there one day.

Running your own empire

in Great Slaughter
not enough for you?

Well, clearly not.

Beautiful place.

Ah, It's falling to bits.

But as with politics,

it's how things seem,
not how they are.

Some people may say that
applies to marriages to.

Charles and I have
a good marriage.

Uh...

Did you know that he was having
an affair with Mary Sparkes?

You have proof?

Yes.

God, I'm such a fool.

You're telling me
you didn't know?

I had no idea.

Not until last night, not
until her clumsy exit.

Azim, I'm so sorry.

I think I'm going to turn in.

Of course,
Mary. Are all right?

Bit of a headache, actually.
Must be all the bubbles.

Oh.

Would you like the
maid to bring you

up an aspirin, my dear?

It's fine, Mrs
Streatham. Thank you.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Right. Update with the P.M.

I told Tony to go
and check she'd gone to bed.

The look on his face
when he came back...

Well, that's when
I knew for sure.

Anthony Kelly told us that
he didn't see anything.

Well the dear man was
probably terrified

he'd turn me into a suspect.

But it wasn't Mary
I wanted dead.

To bring a girl here, to make
her a guest in my own house,

to be so cruel...

If Nancy Streatham had
been ignorant of the affair

until that moment, she
wouldn't have had time

to plant the perfume
in Mary's room,

let alone administer
a second poison.

So the question is,
do you believe her?

I think I do. Ruth
reckons this scoop

is gonna land her
a job at The Times.

The Times in London?

Exactly.

I mean, why she'd want to
leave Great Slaughter...

Well, I'm sure that you
could persuade her to stay.

Me?

You should have to swallow
your pride, of course.

Heh.

You are leaving?

The Order has recalled me. A
position in the Mother House.

It's a great blessing
to be needed.

Maria, wait!

What if you are needed here?

You will find another Governess.

And lose my soul.

Sister?

Yes?

The postmortem.

Oh, yes.

Anything in there
that you didn't know?

Yes.

Mary's lungs and liver
weren't just poisoned.

They were ravaged.

Ravaged?

Outside chemical weapons,

I've never seen levels
of toxicity like it.

Chemical weapons, eh?

Seresium difluoride?

Are you absolutely
certain of that?

This is highly confidential,

but Serezium difluoride is one
half of a binary nerve agent

we developed at Porton
Down called Sintoxin.

Sintoxin?

The thing is,

last year one of our
laboratory assistants

confessed to sharing
the recipe for Sintoxin

with the K.G.B.

You're surely not
suggesting the Russians

are behind the murder
of Mary Sparkes?

The K.G.B are the only
people crazy enough

to deploy nerve agent
on British soil.

It wasn't me, it
was a KGB assassin?

It's quite the
defence, Professor.

We must speak to the minister.

What I am about to
tell you is top secret.

Absolutely cannot be shared
outside your investigation.

You have our solemn promise.

Last night, a document
was stolen from that safe.

It looked like a harmless
M.O.D spending review.

It actually contained highly
sensitive information,

in microdot form.

How sensitive?

Pantarus is the UK's next
generation of nuclear missile.

A pillar
of our nation's

nuclear weapons strategy.

The plans for Pantarus
were concealed

in a dot two millimetres
wide within that document.

If Moscow got
their hands on those plans,

the whole Pantarus project
would have to be scrapped.

Setting our
country's defence strategy

back a decade.

And you think a K.G.B
spy stole the document?

So someone murdered
Mary with a nerve agent

because she caught
them in the act?

As I told you, no one else
could do such a thing.

There is no sign the
lock's been forced.

I will get someone to come
and check it for prints.

There is one
obvious candidate for our spy.

I found this earlier in here.

I assume you've done full
background checks on... Alice.

Of course.

I don't even know her last name.

It's, uh, Kennedy.
Alice Kennedy.

And there was nothing in
Miss Kennedy's background

to suggest she was a
thief or a K.G.B agent.

Naturally you've informed
M.I.5 of the theft.

Yes, of course.

But until they get here,
we're relying on you

to find that document.

The entire nation is.

M.I.5 relying on us!

Quite the vote of confidence.

I'll go get pack up and start
a search for that document.

Not a word, okay?

Refreshments, gentlemen?

In return for an update.

What?

What?

Coffee, please, Alice.
And some biscuits.

There's a good girl.

Did that rather well, I thought.

Espionage and chemical weapons.
It's Agatha Christie's,

The Incredible Theft,
only even more thrilling.

You do know that smoking's
bad for your health, Sister?

Research. That cigarette
butt I found in the bin?

Well I found these
chaps lurking in it.

That's funny looking tobacco.

Thanks to my mass analysis,
I know what they are.

But would you mind awfully
if I didn't tell you?

It's a state secret.

You mean that's
our second poison?

Excellent.

Right, who smoked
that cigarette?

Well, first we need
to identify the brand.

Now there were no
markings on the filter,

so I'm trying to match up
the nicotine and tar levels.

Which is why you've
denied half the village

of their daily fix.

Exactly.

Hmm.

Now in tandem, I need you
to establish the brand

of cigarettes smoked by
the three male suspects.

Right.

Why just the male suspects?

Well, because if either Nancy
Streatham or Jocelyn Kelly

had smoked that cigarette,
then I would have seen

traces of lipstick on the
filter under a microscope.

Of course. Leave it to me.

Aw, lovely cuppa.

Thanks, Miss... Alice.

Incredible, isn't it?

What the inspector found out.

Oh, it's all right.
He told me everything.

Oh, right.
Terrifying, more like.

A K.G.B assassin
here in this house.

I know...

Uh...

Yes.

I just saw Charles Streatham

smoking a packet of
Kensington Slims.

Now, Azim Thomas
smokes Filberts,

which leaves Anthony Kelly.

Sir, I did some digging
back at the station

on Anthony Kelly.

Excellent work, Felix. What
would I do without you?

You shouldn't have lied for me.

I happen to think
you're worth lying for.

God.

Oh.

Nancy?

She wants to be alone, Charles.

Then maybe you should take
your paws off her, Ivy.

You're a narcissistic fool.
You don't deserve her.

You'd be wise to
mind what you say.

Mr Kelly?

May we have a word?

In 1961. Khrushchev
invited your play,

The Day Ends At
Noon, to be performed

at The Moscow Art Theatre.

Visa records show you
were out in Russia

for the whole six month run.

Plenty of time to be
recruited by the K.G.B.

Why the hell would I want
to work for the K.G.B?

'Communism is our
most minimal demand.'

'Whoever is opposed is an
enemy of the human species.'

My place or posture.
Look at my life.

It's hardly textbook Marxist.

I went to Russia because
Khrushchev paid me a lot of money.

And what did he
expect in return?

Nothing.

Just having me there
made him look good.

I found an interview you
did where you explain

why Mr. Streatham calls you Ivy.

It's I-V, right? The Roman
numerals for number four,

as in the fourth man in
the Cambridge spy-ring.

Oh, come on. It's
just a joke between friends.

Mm.

Look, I'll admit to being
a Bollinger Bolshevik,

but I'm no bloody
K.G.B murderer.

Oh, and M.I.5 have already
identified the fourth man.

Charles told me.
Because he trusts me.

Can I go?

Ah, I wish I covered the
K.G.B agent interrogation

at Hendon.

Well at least we know
what cigarettes he smokes.

W.P.C Button, what's wrong?

Me and my big mouth.

That was a low blow.

Even by your incredibly
low standards.

You shut me out.

In the interest of
national security.

The K.G.B using a nerve
agent on British soil,

and stealing a top
secret document.

You don't think the British
public has a right to know?

I gave my word to the minister.

A man deserving
of all our trust.

Aw, give it a rest, Ruth.

All right, so where's M.I.5 now?

Why aren't they here
tearing the place down?

And why is the defence minister
relying on you? No offence.

None taken.

This whole thing stinks,
Sam, and you know it.

You need to leave
this house now.

As if that would stop
me from publishing.

Finally your true
colours come out.

This is the scoop of the decade

and I'm not going anywhere.

Not until I find out
the name of the person

that killed Mary Sparkes.

Mmm.

If she does move to London,

I'll be glad to see
the back of... her.

Ruth's thinking about her
career, and so should you.

Which means solving this case.

Bingo!

The nicotine and tar
levels in this cigarette

match those in our
murder weapon exactly.

Which brand is it?

Um...

Belgravia Milds.

But no one smokes
Belgravia Milds.

Hmm.

So one of those three
men has a secret packet

of Doctor Belgravia Milds?

Time to turn out some
pockets, I reckon.

Right.

Captain Von Trapp.

Ah.

Have you found our killer?

Uh, We are working
on it, Mrs Kelly.

What a relief.

I don't suppose
your husband ever

smokes Belgravia Milds, does he?

Anthony? No.

Hurlinghams. Nothing
else will do.

Why?

No reason.

How mysterious.

Darn it!

Allow me.

Thank you. What a gentleman.

Come on.

She had a pack of Belgravias'.

What? No, it can't be her.

There was no lipstick
on the filter.

She used a cigarette holder.

Good Lord.

Jocelyn Kelly, a
secret K.G.B assassin?

Well, my dad's going
to be so disappointed.

Yeah, the question
is now, W.P.C Button;

Where would she have
hidden that document?

I think I might know.

C'mon.

I found her stumbling out of
here at about eight o'clock.

She was drunk,
claimed she was lost.

But what if the whole
of last night was,

in fact, a performance?

How are we supposed
to narrow this down?

She would almost certainly
have chosen a title

that meant something to her.

Well. This is a nice surprise.

You're a far better actress
than they give you credit for.

Your double life.
Working for the K.G.B,

being an expert safe-breaker.

Good Lord, Captain. What
an imagination you have.

But the nerve agent in
your Belgravia Milds,

isn't imaginary,
is it, Mrs Kelly?

'Great Hollywood Women'.

Great choice.

Anything?

'The Many Lives Of Mata Hari'.

Surely...

Oh, this is hopeless.

Hmm.

My career was going nowhere.

That's why I followed Anthony
to Moscow like a pet dog.

When the Russians
made me their offer,

they took what Hepburn got
for Breakfast At Tiffany's

and added a zero.

So this was all about money.

Money and respect.

The K.G.B don't expect me to
undress before they'll pay me.

And poor Mary. She spotted you

breaking into Charles
Streatham's safe.

Silly little girl. She
was in the wrong place

at the wrong time.

I knew Mary would tell
Charles she'd seen me

coming out of his study.

She had to be eliminated.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary.

Why were you a
Mr. Streatham's study?

It's his birthday on Tuesday,

so I've left him
a little surprise.

Oh.

So, you and Charles, huh?

Don't worry, darling. I
can keep a secret too.

Do you know what Charles'
favourite perfume is?

Fervour?

I was given a
case of it on my last job.

Take it.

Oh.

Thank you.

Now remember, not a
word about my present.

She didn't deserve to die.

I know. I feel dreadful.

This is it.

What is it?

'Little Women'. The one film

that's allowed her
to keep her dignity.

Have you eliminated
anybody else for the K.G.B?

No, but to be honest, darling,
it's only a matter of time.

Oh!

Next time you confront
a K.G.B assassin

armed with a chemical
weapon, please wait for me.

I promise, Sister.

Sir!

Excellent work, Sergeant.

With help from Miss Penny.

Inspector?

Is that the document?

Yes, Minister.

This case will be the
making of you, Inspector.

That hypocrite is going
to come out of this

without even a scratch.

I totally
underestimated her.

I'm here if you need me.

I have a feeling

we're going to need
each other, Nancy.

It's going to be
all right, darling.

Everything's going
to be all right.

No...

No it's not.

Oh my God.

You've humiliated me enough.

I'm not prepared to accept
public ridicule as well.

You can't publish
without my say so.

You gave me your word.

Well, as you said,
I'm not to be trusted.

Ruth Penny.

Now we should probably talk.

That's a good idea, Minister.

Once the country reads

what a philandering
security liability you are,

they will be dying to hear
your side of the story.

A security liability?

Well M.I.5 never came because

you never told them the
document was missing.

I bet they didn't even know
you brought it out here.

You risked our nation's
nuclear defences

all for a dirty
weekend in the country.

She worked out most of that
on her own, to be fair.

You knew she was a journalist?

And you shared top secret
information with her?

You're finished, Gillespie.

If my career is over,

I am sure as hell
taking you down with me.

Well, that's that
then, isn't it.

Maybe he didn't
mean what he said.

Why did I let Ruth
stay in that house?

What was I thinking?

She can be very persuasive.

Maybe Miss Thimble's hiring.

You've come to
dance on my grave?

Tomorrow's edition.
Sneak preview.

In the interest of
national security.

What about Mary Sparkes?

Jocelyn Kelly lost her temper

and pushed her down the stairs.

Just as every other
newspaper in the country

will be reporting tomorrow.

But your big scoop...

The Times, your dad.

There'll be other scoops.

Thank you.

There is more good news.

I bluffed. Told him I'd
print unless he walked.

Good work.

I think you owe me a drink.

I think I probably do.

You in, Sister?

Peggy?

Yep.

Come, pull your legs up.

Why not?

I can't believe she did that.

She must absolutely
love Great Slaughter.

Hmm? Unbelievable.