♪♪
-Wine? -Check.
-Stalls? -Allocated, each and every one.
-Miss Garfield, are you quite sure I'm ready for this?
-Of course you are, my dear. Your work truly shines.
-May I suggest, to negate any unfavourable comparisons,
that we divide the hall into arts and then crafts?
-Segregation? Poppycock.
[ Bell rings ]
-Hello, there! -Hello, there!
-Father. Mrs D.
-One moment, Father.
As the art teacher in this village for many years
and as a graduate of the Royal College of Art...
-Oh, here we go.
-...we cannot refer to Meryl as an artist,
although she does make lovely trinkets.
-Jewellery. -Exactly.
You see, art is transcendental,
and crafts are just a trifle mundane.
-Cyril, dear, don't be such a snob.
Arts and crafts must be inclusive.
Wouldn't you agree, Father? -Yes. Erm, of course.
-And on that note, I'd like to sign up
for the life drawing competition, please.
-Wonderful! Although I gather my model
has just been struck down with measles.
So, Father?
-No, no, no, absolutely not.
-I have someone in mind. Just you leave it with me.
-You are an angel, Mrs D. Sign here.
-Oh.
Are you partaking yourself? -Oh, Heavens, no.
I just want everyone to be inspired and get involved.
-And what could I win?
-Oh, erm...
-Oh, isn't that lovely?
-And you may even get your picture in the Gazette.
-Oh.
-Although having seen your work, Mrs Devine,
I wouldn't get your hopes up.
Far more likely to be my own visage.
-From the very first moment you arrived last summer,
you have been a breath of fresh air.
We all owe you a debt of gratitude
for organising this event.
-Why, thank you, Father. I do try.
-Are you expecting many to attend?
-Oh, one hopes so, but who knows?
-Well, actually,
I think you might be pleasantly surprised there.
Surprise! [ Chuckles ]
I submitted a photograph of one of your pieces,
and a little write-up of the fair.
What do you think?
-What do I think?
I think you are an imbecile.
[ Door slams ] [ Glass breaks ]
-Oh!
What have I done?
-[ Sighs ]
♪♪
-[ Claps hands ]
Gentlemen, don't just stand there staring at it.
Hang it up, please.
Oh, for goodness' sake. Does that look straight to you?
Do I have to do everything myself?
-Miss Garfield.
-What?
-There's been a catastrophic error
in the positioning of our stalls.
-I don't mind moving.
-Cyril, I will not have a two-tier system.
And you, stay where you are.
Ah, Father. Just the man.
-Thought I'd pop along early.
Lend a hand. -You really are heaven-sent.
Measles has just eradicated my judge, as well.
Awful business.
-Oh, dear. -Wonderful.
I knew you'd step into the breach.
Mm, who could be more impartial than you?
-She's been impossible ever since she saw the journal.
-Do you have any idea why?
-Doesn't want that kind of attention, apparently.
But why hide your light under a bushel?
-We should put it on that side,
because if you put it on that side,
it's not going to be shown.
♪♪
[ Chatting indistinctly ]
♪♪
Hey!
♪♪
-Is it you?
The Gaynor Garfield?
-The Marmaduke Snell. Welcome.
-It's such an honour.
-Indeed.
-What brings you to Kembleford?
-This sublime work.
I simply had to meet the lady responsible.
And you are...?
-Delighted to meet you.
-Enchanté.
Quite remarkable. I'll take every last piece, yes?
-Unfortunately, they aren't for sale.
-Oh, my dear, I really can't take no for an answer.
-Well, then, if you insist. -I very much do.
[ Both chuckle ]
Life drawing. How serendipitous.
I can never resist a contest.
Alas, the competition is only open for Kemblefordians.
-Oh, I'm sure an exception can be made.
In the meantime...
I'll take a table to sell my wares,
if anyone in this village can afford them.
-What an honour.
Cyril will share with Meryl.
-Oh... -Chop, chop!
-Oh, the perils of the countryside.
-Anything I can do to help?
-Yes. Perhaps you can locate the wine, Father.
I think I'll be needing it very soon.
-It shouldn't be long. I think you'll approve, Father.
Let's just say that God has provided.
-Ah.
[ Bottles clinking ]
-Morning.
-Good morning.
Morning. -Good morning, Sister.
-Oh, no. Agatha, no!
Oh, no! No, please! Look out!
[ Bike bell rings ]
[ Brakes squeak ]
Oh! Oh, my giddy aunt! Oh!
A thousand apologies.
Agatha's brakes can be, er, rather temperamental, you see.
-You stay away from me, crazy penguin.
Name and convent. -Sister Boniface. St Agnes'.
-Expect a complaint to your superiors.
You're a menace to society.
-I'm sure it was an accident.
And you seem to be uninjured. This need go no further.
-Unlike you, Father, I don't forgive.
-So nice to see you, Father. -Likewise, Sister.
-Please tell me you have another six bottles under your habit.
-Well, I'm sure I ordered 12.
-Oh, crumbs.
-I'll take one of those by way of compensation.
Wouldn't you agree?
-Well, I suppose it's the least we can do.
-This particular one is an exceedingly fine vintage.
-I'll be the judge of that.
-Right. Time I was off.
Father Brown, we must have tea when you're next at St Agnes'.
And a slice of Battenberg.
Godspeed, all!
-What a funny little nun.
♪♪
-Father, I trust I have your support
for the life drawing competition.
-I will judge each work on merit, Mr Frogmore.
-Yes, but we mustn't let an interloper --
-What do we have here?
A veritable hotchpotch, it seems.
Ah! Just the ticket.
-I am so honoured.
It's the very first time I've sold my work.
-And one very much expects it will be the last.
-I'm sorry?
-Your "work" has no artistic merit whatsoever,
but at least it's functional.
This should scrape the mud off my shoe perfectly.
-[ Sobs quietly ]
-At least you can say it's been touched by greatness.
-That was uncalled for.
-These look horribly familiar.
-Time for lunch, everyone! Off we go.
-I'm not quite finished curating my works.
Perhaps you could assist?
-Well, how can I say no?
♪♪
[ Timer rings ]
-Alright, let's see, then.
[ Clears throat ]
Well, who's that supposed to be?
-[ Scoffs ]
-It's a very good likeness, Mrs Devine.
-Thank you, Father.
-It would appear that I'm now judging the competition.
-Well, are you sure that's a good idea?
-I must say, I wish I wasn't.
A renowned artist has entered the fray,
and Mr Frogmore will not take lightly to losing.
-Well, at least I've found a model, Father.
Someone dapper and handsome
with a quiet authority who just oozes intelligence.
♪♪
-Why not give something new a try?
-Nah. [ Chuckles ]
I don't have an artistic bone in me body.
-It's important to let your creative spirit run free.
-Mmm.
If you say so.
I don't get those at all.
-Marmaduke Snell's abstracts are the toast of London.
Not to my taste, I must confess.
Oh, dear. Has anyone seen Meryl?
She was supposed to take part in the competition.
[ Timer rings ]
Time, everyone, that's time.
-Never again.
-Father, if you wouldn'’t mind?
-Interesting.
-Is that really how you see me, Goodfellow?
-Oh, no. Sorry, sir.
-Hope you like it.
-Mmm.
That's more like it.
My goodness.
Can I keep this?
-For a nominal fee.
-Right.
Well, having considered all the entries...
-Thank you very, very much.
I would say I find winning difficult,
but that would be a lie.
I would like to dedicate this award to my wife and muse --
-I haven't announced the winner yet.
-Oh, come now.
The other work ranges from --
how do I put this --
competent at best to truly execrable.
-How dare you?
This is not the spirit of the fair!
Oh, calm down, woman. You'll give yourself a hernia.
[ Coughs ]
[ Choking ]
-Surely the wine can't be that bad.
-[ Choking ]
♪♪
[ Crowd gasps ]
-Everyone stand back.
♪♪
He's dead.
[ Crowd gasps ]
[ Camera shutter clicks ]
-Curious...
-Blood? -Looks like red paint.
And from the colouration in Mr Snell's face
and the smell of almonds,
I would suggest cyanide poisoning.
-I'll be the judge of that, thank you, Father.
Sergeant, bag up the bottle, cork and glass for the lab.
-Righty-o, sir. Constable...
-And find out who supplied the offending wine.
-Ah.
I may be able to help with that.
-Well, this is jolly exciting.
I'd like to see the photographs of the scene
and the report, if I may.
-Who do you think you are, Father Brown?
-I'm sorry?
-I don'’t think you understand
the gravity of the situation, Sister.
-Mm. It is most befuddling.
Fact -- the wine could not have been compromised.
I bottled it myself.
Therefore, the bottle opener must have been poisoned.
-The cork had not been fully penetrated.
-Hmm...
Then I must surmise that the poison was already in the glass.
-Mr Snell chose the glass himself.
I think he would have noticed some cyanide.
-Perhaps I might be permitted to examine
all the evidence in my laboratory?
-E-Excuse me?
-Well, I do have a masters degree in biochemistry. Cantab.
Not to mention that Locard is a particular hero of mine.
-"Fact" -- you are a nun.
A sample of the wine has been sent to a police laboratory.
I prefer to lay my trust in professionals.
-I see.
Well, there is one thing that you're missing.
Motive. -Hmm.
It says here that the deceased
was about to complain to your superiors
after you almost crashed into him.
-That's hardly a motive for murder, Chief Inspector.
-I've contacted St Agnes'.
All wine production has been suspended as a precaution.
-Oh, yet another blot on my copybook.
I can't imagine Reverend Mother will be pleased.
-"Livid" is the word I would use.
-It is inconceivable that Sister Boniface would take a life.
-That, Father, is why I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt,
for now.
Let us hope the wine sample comes back clear.
In the meantime, Sister, do not leave the area.
That'll be all.
-Surely there must be some other explanation.
-Of course there is, Sergeant. And we will find it.
-I knew I could rely on you, Father.
-Always.
-You've investigated together before?
-Oh, yes.
Some years ago now, at St Agnes'.
Two deaths in a row.
-[ Gasps ] Holy cow!
-Brenda!
-Sorry.
-A very sad affair.
Sister Boniface was most helpful.
How else could Mr Snell have ingested the poison?
-He ate something?
-Oh. A poisoned pear drop, perhaps?
-Or smoked something?
-However it was administered,
the poisoner must have acted in the break
before the fair opened, when the hall was empty.
-Yeah.
But why would anyone want to kill him?
-Mr Snell greatly upset Miss Plunkett just before lunch.
-Did he indeed?
-And there was something unusual on the body.
Banknotes smudged with red paint.
I think a rigorous examination of the crime scene
is in order, Sister.
Tomorrow morning?
-Father, I can think of nothing I would enjoy more.
♪♪
[ Bike bell rings ]
♪♪
-How are you, Sister?
-Somewhat excited.
I've been putting together a "crime kit", if you will.
Camera, torch, magnifying glass, gloves,
aluminium powder, luminol.
-You have come prepared.
-Fudgeberries and cream.
-Yes. I'll take care of that.
-Father Brown!
-Between you, me and the Lord, Sister.
♪♪
No sign of any red paint.
Anything?
-Just this, it seems.
Seeds in the mud.
-From Mr Snell's shoes.
-Fascinating.
-I couldn't help noticing that yesterday,
you said you had another blot on your copybook.
-Ah, yes. I am rather persona non grata at the moment.
My former lab, I sort of, erm...
-Yes?
-...blew it up. -I see.
-I was experimenting, you see, with new fertilisers,
when the ammonium nitrate accidentally crossed paths
with a Bunsen burner.
This whole business with the wine,
it couldn't have come at a worse time.
Between us, Father, I'm a little bit unhappy at St Agnes'.
-I'm sorry to hear that.
Have you thought about asking for a transfer?
-I couldn't possibly, Father.
St Agnes' has been my home for years.
-Sister, metal polish.
-Bravo, Father. Yes!
Certain metal cleaning solutions contain potassium cyanide,
a highly toxic and fast-acting poison.
This could well be our murder weapon.
-And yet the tin itself is no longer here.
-Are you sure we should re-opening?
I mean, a man has died.
-It is patently clear
he was a boil on the bottom of humanity,
so why should we let him spoil the cultural event of the year?
Oh, do hurry along, Meryl. Stop dilly-dallying.
-Don't be cross.
I'm going back for my jewellery box,
to pack up my stall.
-My darling girl, in life,
you must have the courage of your convictions.
-But Marmaduke Snell hated my work.
-Oh, who gives a fig? I love it.
-Maybe next year.
-Miss Garfield. Miss Plunkett.
-Father. Sister. Oh, dear.
I don't imagine yesterday was good for business.
-Oh. I am quite certain the wine was not responsible.
-May we have a word with Miss Plunkett?
-Oh. Well, if you like.
Don't be long, Meryl.
-We just wondered if you knew where your metal cleaner is?
-On my stall.
-It's not there now.
We think it may have something to do with Mr Snell's death.
-And I understand he was rather unpleasant to you yesterday.
-This is all my fault.
[ Sighs ]
-Why is that, Miss Plunkett?
-If I hadn't have publicised the fair,
then Mr Snell wouldn't have come,
and he wouldn't be dead.
-You could never have known what would happen.
May I ask where you were during the lunch break?
-At home.
I couldn't face seeing Mr Snell.
Although I did pop back to collect my handbag.
-I see. Did you observe anything suspicious?
-No...
but I did hear shouting through the back.
Marmaduke Snell.
-And?
-I'm fairly sure it was Miss Garfield.
I couldn't hear what about.
You don't think it's significant, do you, Father?
-Never seen it before in my life.
-Thank you. That'll be all.
Although I don't suppose you'll have any need
for this anymore...?
-Well, that rather depends.
We're rerunning the life drawing later.
-Alas, I have a murder investigation to conduct.
-As Marmaduke Snell's last work, it must be worth a fortune.
-I suppose I could spare one hour.
-Tickety-boo. I'll see you here just before 3:00 PM.
-Excellent, excellent.
-Oh, and Chief Inspector,
please assure me you're making some progress?
-Oh, my men are tracking down the victim's lodgings right now.
We do have a suspect in mind.
Good day.
-What are these?
-Oh, just a little pick-me-up. Feel free to try.
-Sister? -Yes?
-May we ask you a question, Miss Garfield?
-Why, of course.
-Erm, a little bird tells us
that you may have had an argument with Mr Snell
before his death?
-And which little bird is this?
-Miss Plunkett.
May we ask what the argument was about?
-[ Exhales sharply ]
Well, after the way he spoke to Meryl,
I told him I wouldn't sell.
Then he started shouting that I'd made a verbal contract.
-How did you respond?
-Well, I had no choice but to allow the deal to calm him down,
keeping the fair on track.
-Though his death does mean you get to keep your work.
-I'd hardly commit murder for that.
Although, of course, now, I wish I had insisted that he left.
I'll regret that for the rest of my days.
-Thank you, Miss Garfield.
-Can I get either of you some tea?
-No, thank you. We'll be on our way.
We need to know more about Marmaduke Snell.
If we only knew where he was staying...
-The seeds I found in the mud.
I've had an idea.
♪♪
Bingo. -Ingenious.
♪♪
-I must say, Father, this is all jolly good fun.
-Yes, I know.
Ah!
Looks as if someone may have already beaten us to it.
♪♪
-Our murderer, perhaps?
-Did they find what they were looking for?
♪♪
-Now, what do we have here?
♪♪
"“Dearest agent,
"unavailable until the 26th.
"Cancel RCA Angela.
"Renting in dreary Kembleford..."”
Oh. How rude.
"“...to collect something of mine.
"Yours, Marmaduke."”
♪♪
-To collect what?
[ Vehicle approaches ]
-Oh, fishbums!
-I want this place torn apart, Sergeant.
-Right you are, sir.
-Ah, Chief Inspector.
-How fortuitous to see you here.
-Yes. What a coincidence.
-Yes.
Well, there's been a development.
Sister Boniface, can you confirm that you personally filled
the bottle you handed to the deceased?
-Affirmative.
-Then my hands are tied.
Sister Boniface, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.
-Chief Inspector, no.
-There was cyanide in the wine, Father.
The evidence is incontrovertible.
You are not obliged to say anything,
but anything you do say may be given in evidence.
Sergeant?
-This way, please.
♪♪
[ Camera shutter clicking ]
-Edgar, you must know this is wrong.
-The evidence suggests otherwise.
It is my duty to follow that evidence.
-But not blindly.
There is no need to lock her up!
-Unfortunately, Sister Boniface handed the deceased
the only poisoned bottle.
-It doesn't make any sense!
-Cyanide is used in wine-making, is it not?
-Yes, but --
-Yeah, Father, a man is dead!
Now, I'll thank you all to leave now.
-Yes. Of course, Chief Inspector.
-I must see Sister Boniface.
-This is most frustrating.
If only I could examine the evidence in my laboratory.
-So for now, we have to concentrate on the why.
Why kill Mr Snell?
-Perhaps there was something pertinent in the letter.
For instance, who is "RCA Angela"?
-Oh, of course!
RCA -- Royal College of Art.
I must speak to Mr Frogmore.
-Oh, erm, before you go, Father, erm, I must say
that, erm, if this has been my last leap of freedom,
it's been most enjoyable.
And just like the last time, I feel so thoroughly... alive.
Which is ironic, really,
as I approach my potential death.
-That is not going to happen.
We will get to the bottom of this.
I assure you.
-[ Sighs ] She just needs to stick her head
above the parapet.
-Yeah, well, perhaps it's a bit of a blessing.
Meryl's work was a bit of an eyesore.
You know, I haven't decided where I'm going to put this yet.
-Cyril, dear, when you started out,
was your work "transcendental"?
-No, no. Not to start with, no.
-Mm. But you were encouraged?
-Yes, yes. By Mr Sparrow, my art teacher.
-Mm. Well, then, perhaps what Meryl needs right now
is for you to channel Mr Sparrow,
not Marmaduke Snell.
-Can I help you, Father? -I do hope so, Mr Frogmore.
I couldn't help noticing that Marmaduke Snell
referred to your works as "horribly familiar".
Did you perhaps study together at the Royal College of Art?
-No, no. I don't think so, no.
-Oh.
May I see your wallet?
Please indulge me.
-Ah, yes, my wallet, of course.
-Ah, yes.
The same paint found on the bank notes in Mr Snell's pocket.
-Yes, I'm, er, in the middle of an artwork.
It's very messy, brand new piece, and erm...
[ Exhales sharply ] Alright, alright. I...
I met him at lunchtime and I gave him some money
to guarantee his silence over something.
-Something?
Something about the time you spent together
at the Royal College of Art?
Did you perhaps fail to graduate, Mr Frogmore?
Well, as the village art teacher,
such knowledge would be ruinous.
-Father, please.
Please keep this under your hat.
-Of course.
Oh, erm...
did Mr Snell say anything of note to you?
-No, not really.
Other than he was about to go on his honeymoon.
He was recently married? -Yes, to his "muse".
Er, Molly, I think he said. Yeah, yes.
Molly.
Do you think I could get my money back?
-Well, if you explain yourself to Chief Inspector Sullivan...
-Well, perhaps I'll leave it, then.
I, er -- I don't want to cause a fuss and all that.
But if you'll excuse me... -Oh, yes.
-Yes.
-Perhaps the key lies in discovering
what Mr Snell came to collect.
-Perhaps he had found it already.
-Well, we'd better find out what it is
before Sister Boniface is charged,
or sent to gallows.
-If we could only find out how the bottle was tampered with.
But only Sister Boniface can help with that.
-I have an idea, but we have to be quick.
And it's risky, especially for me.
-Well, what is it?
-I'll have to do a bit of digging at the Players.
And I won't be able to make the fair, I'm afraid.
♪♪
-Father. You've just missed the Chief Inspector.
He's, erm -- he's gone to the arts and crafts fair.
-Ah, yes. I was rather counting on that, Sergeant,
because I have to ask you for one or two favours.
-I could lose my job over this, Father.
-I'm certain it won't come to that.
-I assure you we'll be back in a jiffy,
long before the Chief Inspector.
-I can't thank you enough, Sergeant.
-Just be as quick as you can.
-I don't suppose we could trouble you
for Mr Snell's personal effects?
♪♪
-You are a trooper, Chief Inspector.
A living, breathing work of art.
-Yes, well, if you say so.
-I'm not sure I can do --
-Yes, what is the point, eh?
Better spend your whole life fearful
and not do anything at all.
Eh, Meryl?
-Actually, I think I will take part.
-Atta girl.
-Alright, everyone.
Three, two, one, and --
-Where is Mrs Devine?
-Oh, I -- I haven't a clue.
-I'm taking her place. [ Chuckles ]
She is at an audition at the Players.
-On a Sunday?
-Well, that's what she said.
-And Father Brown?
-Mmm, he is helping her learn her lines.
-Something's going on here.
-Chief Inspector. -Please accept my apologies.
-Ugh.
-What on earth am I supposed to do now?!
Chief Inspector!
Oh, for goodness' sakes. Brenda, sit.
[ Church bells ringing ]
♪♪
-M&M -- 29th May 1954.
Just over a year ago.
Ah, not sure we should be destroying evidence.
-Now, it's only by doing so that we can see...
Bingo!
-What do you see? -Take a look, Father.
Microscopic damage. Invisible to the naked eye.
Especially after the cork was damaged by the corkscrew.
The culprit injected the cork with a very fine needle.
So Mr Snell, and sadly the police, were oblivious.
A needle. Excellent, Sister.
Mr Frogmore said Mr Snell mentioned
an impending honeymoon.
-Most befuddling. Why wait so long?
-Well, perhaps his wife Molly can explain.
And take all this back to the police station,
but you must hurry.
-Hello, sir.
Wasn't expecting you back so soon, sir.
-I think Father Brown is up to something.
Have you seen Mrs Devine?
-Er, no, sir. Heard she had an audition.
-Did you, indeed...
-Sir, wait.
-At least she's where she's supposed to be.
♪♪
[ Timer rings ]
-I do hope these are flattering.
Ah, Father. Just in time.
Judging duties, right away.
-Where's Chief Inspector Sullivan?
-Erm, he had to run.
-Father? What do you think?
-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered.
-It's charming. Don't give up, Brenda.
-Oh, thanks. I won't.
-Without doubt... the winner.
[ Applause ]
-Well, look at that. You beat a real artist.
Well done, Meryl.
-Congratulations, dear.
-I don't believe it!
Maybe I should set up my stall after all.
-Well, come on, what are you waiting for?
I could help.
-Just one moment, please, Mr Frogmore.
Miss Garfield, can I have a word?
-Come on. Well done.
-Thank you, Mr Frogmore.
-Congratulations.
-Can we keep this brief, Father?
-I'm afraid not, Molly.
-Who?
-I now understand your reaction
to seeing the photographs of your work in the journal.
As you knew it could enable Mr Snell to find you.
-I really haven't the foggiest --
-When you searched his cottage,
you missed this.
Mr Snell didn't come here to collect a thing.
He came to collect a person.
Your marriage was a few days
before you arrived in Kembleford.
-I met him two years ago.
Had what you might call a whirlwind romance.
He was the most charming, magnetic artist I'd ever met.
It was only right after the wedding that all became clear.
I'd made a terrible mistake.
-My dear, from now on,
the only thing you'll be making is a home.
Not forgetting the pitter-patter of tiny feet.
-But art is everything to me.
-And it will remain so through my work.
What greater honour is there for you than to be my muse?
-I won't give up my practice.
-Oh, you're so... spirited.
It's endearing, it really is,
but you must never forget your vows.
Love, honour and obey.
No, no, I won't have any tears.
No one will ever love you as much as I do.
[ Group laughing ]
Ah. Hello, everyone.
What's the joke?
♪♪
-So I left him,
on our wedding day with some of his savings.
I should have known he'd find me.
And toy with me.
Until we were finally alone.
-Well, you nearly got away with it.
Changing your name,
hiding away in this little provincial hell hole,
but you can never hide from me, Molly.
-I won't go back with you.
-If you don't, I'll tell the police
just how much money you stole from me
to fund your little enterprise.
You'll be locked up.
-If you really loved me, you would let me go.
-It's my duty to save you from yourself.
None of this is real.
You remember the promise you made?
-"Till death do us part." -Precisely.
-Then you leave me no choice.
-Clever girl.
Meet me at Chipping Way after the fair,
and then we can finally have our honeymoon.
Won't that be nice, hmm?
-You couldn't go back to him,
so you poisoned his wine.
-How could I have?
-I think I'm right in assuming that you are a diabetic?
I noticed the glucose tablets earlier.
-What of it?
-Well, therefore, you use needles to inject insulin.
And I presume you used one of those
to draw up Miss Plunkett's metal polish.
Which you then injected through the cork
into Mr Snell's bottle.
-I'm not sorry he's dead.
-Miss Garfield, no.
-You didn't.
-I had to be free of him.
-This is all my fault.
-No, no. He would have found me eventually.
-And now, you must repent and confess your sin.
-But how can I ever do that?
-If you do not,
then Mr Snell's death will exact a very high price indeed.
Your immortal soul and Sister Boniface's life.
-Surely no one will believe that a nun --
-With no other explanation, what else is there to believe?
-I really don't want to go, Father.
I've finally found my family.
♪♪
-You made me believe I was an artist.
-And that's exactly what you are, my dear.
Don't you ever forget it.
-Don't worry about your shop.
We'll look after it for you.
-So, Molly...
time to stop running.
-[ Whispering ] Quick, quick.
Quick. My God.
Okay.
Oh! Fancy seeing you here.
-How was the audition?
Bit odd that it's on a Sunday.
-It was an emergency. Someone dropped out.
-Oh. Which part?
-Lady Macbeth.
-I see. Gosh.
And what are you doing here now?
-Er, I hope you don't mind, sir.
Er, Mrs Devine insisted on bringing Sister Boniface
something nice to eat, sir.
-You...
-Hello.
-Where is it?
-She's eaten it.
-What was it?
-A strawberry scone. -Slice of Battenburg.
-Both.
-You're up to something. All of you.
-Father! How nice to see you.
-Chief Inspector, I think it's time
you released Sister Boniface.
-Why on earth would I do that?
-I have something to confess.
♪♪
-Bless me, Father...
for I have sinned.
It's been four days since my last confession.
I'm ashamed to say that I have deceived the police
and borrowed evidence.
On top of which I have been neglecting my duties
as a Bride of Christ.
-God forgives you.
You have helped to save a soul,
and there is no more important work than that.
-I have to confess...
I've felt... more exhilarated in the past few days
than the last few years.
And that is because of you, Father.
-Nonsense.
It is because you have been using your God-given talents,
your extraordinary scientific mind.
-Thank you, Father.
I've taken your advice
and requested a transfer from St Agnes'.
-New beginnings present new possibilities.
And it would be a waste if you did not try to find a way
to use your exceptional gifts for good.
♪♪
-Time I was off.
A new chapter begins, at St Vincent'’s.
-Where's that, then?
-Great Slaughter. -Sounds ominous.
-Oh, dear.
I fear Agatha is wearing thin.
-Personally, I suggest you try something motorised.
-I swear by my Hercules.
-Well, thank you, Mrs Devine, and Brenda.
It's been a pleasure.
Oh, erm, would you mind?
-Oh, of course.
-I'd hate to forget this moment.
-[ Chuckles ]
Ready?
♪♪
-Thank you so much.
-We'll leave you both to say your goodbyes.
Goodbye, Sister.
-Goodbye.
♪♪
You really have been the most inspirational teacher, Father.
-We make a good team, Sister.
-I think I've found a new calling, thanks to you.
-I predict great things.
Until we meet again.
♪♪