Silence in the court.
Mr foreman, have you reached a verdict in relation to this
indictment, upon which you are all agreed?
We have, My Lord.
Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty
of the murder of Theodore Neville-Crowley?
Guilty, My Lord.
What do you mean she just wandered in, in the dead of night?
I feared it was an intruder, probably driven in by the rain.
Well, you should have called the police. Perhaps.
Luckily turned out to be a benign, rather damp house guest,
fast asleep on my couch.
Morning, Father. Hello, Mrs M. Good morning, Bunty.
I trust you had a good time at the party.
Far too good by the look of her.
It was smashing, thank you.
And I'm sorry to drop in unannounced,
I just thought it best to drive home in the daylight.
You drove here? I didn't see your car.
Oh, it's just parked down the lane.
Anyway, thank you so much for the blanket, that's so sweet of you.
I really must fly. What's the hurry? Have some toast.
And maybe a glass of water.
Oh, no, it's quite all right, really. Toodle-oo!
I must say, Bunty, that's not very well parked.
I just, erm, really wanted to get home.
Did anything happen? No, nothing I couldn't handle. Ah.
Miss Windermere, at last.
We've been looking for you all morning.
We're here to place you under arrest.
Arrest? What for? Damaging a hedgerow?
For the suspected murder of Theodore Neville-Crowley.
What?
Teddy's dead?!
His body was found in his gardens in the early hours of this morning.
He'd been bludgeoned to death.
How does this involve Bunty?
A feather stole that she was wearing
was found on the very spot that he died.
And several witnesses say that she was the last person
seen with him alive.
I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all that.
Bunty...
...is that blood? Oh.
No. I must...
I can explain all of this.
Then I suggest you do just that, at the police station.
Goodfellow.
You are not obliged to say anything,
but anything you do say may be put into writing and given in evidence.
You can't seriously think I killed him, can you?
What I think is irrelevant. I'm only interested in the facts.
Which I will gladly give you.
Just as soon as I've had my telephone call.
I know my rights, Inspector.
Mayfair 6291, please.
Hello, Roderick, it's me.
Is Daddy home? It's important.
The Atlas Mountains of Morocco, of course.
How long will they be there?
Can't you get them a message?
No, that's quite all right. Um...
Thank you.
I just need one more call. Sorry, that's your lot, I'm afraid.
Right this way, Miss Windermere.
A change of clothes for Bunty.
I assume her party dress will be examined for evidence.
It will. Thank you, Father.
When can I see her? She's still being questioned.
And they've been here over an hour.
Mr Neville-Crowley.
Father Brown. We've met before, a few years ago.
Of course, at Mother's funeral. And Father's before that.
You won't have met my wife, Margot.
Hello.
My condolences to you both.
How awful to lose your brother in such distressing circumstances.
Thank you.
Inspector Mallory spoke with us this morning, but we were still in shock.
He said we should come in if we remembered anything
that might be important. Care to share it with me?
I'm here as a friend of Miss Penelope Windermere,
and I have no doubt that she has been falsely accused.
Yes. Well, it does seem rather fanciful
to think that a woman killed him.
Women are quite capable of violence, Max, when provoked.
And we all know Teddy was quite the provocateur.
The last time Teddy and I spoke, we almost came to blows.
It seems trivial now, but it was about a car.
It wasn't trivial, the Jag rightly belonged to you.
Anyway, that's not the important bit.
As I told the Sergeant, after the party,
the Jag was driven off by one of Teddy's so-called friends,
Charlie something. Suspicious character.
We think he should be found and questioned.
About your brother's murder?
Or theft?
Well, both, I should think.
Bunty. Take her to the cells, she can change there.
And stay with her.
That doesn't sound awfully private!
I'll turn around, Miss Windermere.
She's been formally charged with murder.
On what grounds, Inspector?
A confession.
How are you? Oh, you know me, Father.
I've been in worse scrapes than this before.
Inspector Mallory tells me you confessed.
To what, exactly?
To hitting Teddy, with a tree branch.
Begin at the beginning.
Well, it all started so well.
The party really was good fun.
Welcome to Gatsby's mansion!
We have champagne, we have cocktails,
so drink to your heart's desire.
Ah, Max! Good of you to come! Oh, is there going to be a skit?
You said the theme was A Teddy Bear's Picnic.
I'm so sorry, I forgot to say that I changed it.
Oh, and I see Margot decided to come as herself, how imaginative.
And I see you're dressed as a spoilt millionaire.
Not much imagination needed for that.
She's right, you know.
I'm frightfully spoilt, you should stay away from me.
Oh, I'm a little spoiled myself. Oh, jolly good.
How long have you known Teddy?
Oh, barely a week. We met at a charity do. Ah.
Yes, he likes to make new friends, but he rarely keeps them long.
Except Charlie over there. He's become quite the fixture.
Oh, yes, I noticed him. Who is he? Nobody knows.
Seems a bit rough around the edges for Teddy.
I rather like him.
It was a Great Gatsby theme, so naturally
Teddy had cast himself the starring role.
What kind of playboy millionaire would Gatsby be
if he didn't offer his guests the chance of a prize?
Ooh!
Take a look through that window.
Somewhere, ladies and gentlemen, hidden in the gardens...
...are the keys to that car.
Finders keepers, losers weepers.
Go, go, go, go!
Then we searched the gardens for an age.
The longer it took, the more determined we all became.
It started to get late, and I was on my own.
Ah.
Oh. I bring some disappointing news. Oh?
Somebody's already found the keys. Oh, well. Good for them.
Um, I was getting chilly anyway. No, no, no.
Ah. Don't go in just yet. We finally have the garden to ourselves.
Now, all I want is
one... little... kiss.
Oh! Mm! Teddy!
Quite the wildcat. I like that.
Stay away from me!
It was just a bit of fun!
After that it all gets so muddled.
I'm sure I only hit Teddy once.
I could swear that I saw him walking away.
But then I barely remember the drive back to the presbytery.
So what if I'm wrong, Father?
What if I killed him?
Bunty, I'm convinced you are innocent of this crime.
Which means someone else is guilty, and I intend to find out who.
Thank you, Father.
In the meantime, I've asked Sergeant Goodfellow to get in contact
with a family friend for me.
I only hope Daddy doesn't mind the enormous bill when he gets home.
Ah, Bunty. Bertie. Thank you so much for coming so quickly.
This is my friend, Father Brown.
Bertram Quinton.
No time for niceties, I'm afraid.
Bunty and I have much ground to cover. I'll take my leave.
Well, the bad news is you've admitted to far more than
I would've advised. But no matter.
The good news is this Inspector Mallory is clearly
an imbecile who's clutching at straws.
Rest assured, I'll have this absurd charge laughed out of court.
Sergeant Goodfellow.
I'm under strict orders not to discuss this case with you, Father.
May I at least ask if there are any other suspects under consideration?
Maximilian, for instance,
admitted to arguing with his brother the night of the murder.
And the sister-in-law clearly disliked Teddy.
It seems everyone disliked him.
Look, we questioned every servant
and every guest who was there last night.
And the mysterious Charlie whom Maximillian mentioned?
Inspector Mallory says a dispute over a motor vehicle
is hardly a priority in a murder investigation.
Look, Father, I will do my best to find him for you,
but, please, don't ask me for anything else.
I promise I won't.
Once you've shown me the murder scene.
I could lose my job!
All right. After my shift.
But the evidence has already been gathered, and I hate to say
this, Father, but it all seems to point to Miss Windermere.
Which is why it is vital that I see the evidence for myself.
Nice try, Padre, but it's staying under lock and key.
And if I hear of you trying to tamper with any of it,
I'll arrest you.
I do not wish to tamper with it!
I want to find out what happened.
And you will, when the facts are presented in court.
News, news!
News!
At last, she's here!
Do you have anything to say?
Are you guilty, Ms Windermere? How are you feeling? Tell us...
You've done it, didn't you? You done it, didn't you, Ms Windermere?
I'll see you in there, sir.
Good luck on the stand, Inspector.
Enjoy the view from the public gallery.
Glad to see you've left it to the professionals for once.
Any progress on finding the Jaguar?
The numberplate was finally registered.
Someone in Bath bought it.
He says the seller left a forwarding address, in Bristol.
The Prosecution, Roger Sharpe.
By all accounts, he lives up to his name.
Just so long as Penelope's man is sharper.
I'm confident she's in good hands.
Where the devil are my glasses?
All rise for His Honour, Judge Pickering.
Would the defendant please rise?
Please state your full name for the court.
Penelope Windermere.
You are indicted with one count of murder,
namely that on the 25th July, 1953, you did murder one
Theodore Neville-Crowley, contrary to common law.
Do you understand the charges against you?
I do.
How do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
Ladies and gentlemen...
...a young man with a promising future,
brutally bludgeoned to death in the gardens of his own home
by his drunken party guest, Miss Windermere.
Perhaps you think any lady of good breeding would be
incapable of such an act of savagery, but don't be deceived.
What you will find is Miss Windermere is
a woman of low morals, who was expelled from various schools,
who has thought nothing of having affairs with married men.
A woman without scruples or self-control.
But perhaps you still won't believe murder is in her character.
Then the cold, blunt evidence will speak for itself.
I believe this will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt
that Miss Windermere is guilty of this crime.
That concludes the outline for the Prosecution.
I'll admit my client hasn't always conducted herself
as well as she should have, but she's a jolly good egg...
...and you'll soon see that this charge is just... absurd.
Thank you.
Is this the spot where Mr Neville-Crowley's lifeless body
was found? That is correct.
As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, a grisly scene indeed.
Is this the branch, Inspector? It is.
What would it have been used for?
Clubbing the victim to death.
Look closely at the dress.
An unmistakable smudge of the victim's blood.
And copious amounts on his suit.
Grass stains on Teddy's suit. Is that a question, Padre?
How did they get there? Well, presumably from the grass.
Look, it was a party. He was drinking.
He could have tripped and fallen.
But they're streaked, like drag marks.
Which proves that Bunty was right -
Teddy did walk away after she hit him.
Otherwise, how did he wind up dead in the very same place?
What are you wittering about?
The body was moved.
He could be right, sir.
Inspector, at least let's test the theory.
Mr Neville-Crowley was found here, facedown,
with his head in that direction.
He could have been dragged by his feet, from the bench.
For someone who's never been here before,
he certainly seems to know his way around, Sergeant.
Well, he saw the ground plan at the court, sir.
I'll be Teddy.
Bunty has just spurned my unwanted advance.
So I sit here, nursing my grievance with a cigarette.
That's a good guess, Father,
because we found a pack in Teddy's pocket, didn't we, sir?
And a half-smoked one right there.
Go on.
Will you be my assailant, Sergeant?
As you can see, it provides perfect cover for a stealthy approach.
So I bludgeon Teddy...
Boof, boof!
Thank you, Sergeant.
I tip forward, onto the floor,
and I'm dragged backwards to the spot where Bunty first hit me.
Firstly, this is the victim's home.
He could have smoked that cigarette at any time.
And secondly, if he was killed here,
there would have been blood on the bench.
But it rained heavily earlier that morning.
Either way, the evidence is gone.
Dropped cigarettes and grass stains are hardly grounds to reopen
a case, especially one that's already gone to trial.
So, if you don't mind, I'm going back to the court.
He's right, Father.
Even if we do find something, it's too late.
But they haven't reached a verdict yet.
To help Bunty, Sergeant, we must be bold,
even in defiance of Inspector Mallory.
There's still a lead in Bristol.
Come along, Goodfellow!
All right.
You hardly cross-examined them.
Who? Anyone!
Bertie!
No point disputing the hard evidence.
It's the witness statements where the real fun begins.
Stiffen your sinews, my dear, we're going to win this.
We reconvene in ten minutes.
Must spend a penny first.
I know a drunkard when I see one.
It's not all the time.
It seems it's just when he's stepping into court.
Well, that's not much use to you, now, is it?
But what else am I to do? Bertie's my last hope.
Father Brown is out there right now.
He will not rest until he finds the killer.
Oh, Bunty.
He won't let you down, I promise.
Charlie Reid?
May we come in?
What's with the priest?
I'm taking a keen interest in the Neville-Crowley murder case.
I've been following it in the papers, same as everyone.
Is this about the Jag?
I won it fair and square.
You're the only guest we never questioned after the party, sir.
If you're asking what I saw that night, I didn't.
Teddy was pratting about with his posh mates.
If you don't mind my saying,
you don't seem to have liked him very much,
and yet you spent a lot of time with him.
May I ask where you first met?
At a poker game,
about six months back. So what?
Because I checked Teddy's bank records
and he'd been withdrawing £20 a month in cash
for the past six months.
Nothing to do with me.
I believe in a lot of things, Mr Reid,
but coincidence isn't one of them.
Was Teddy paying you off, perhaps?
A gambling debt?
Something worse?
Does it look like I was getting that kind of money?
Forgive the observation, but gamblers have a habit of losing it.
I've got a family, I look after them.
Look, Teddy was from a different world.
It was fun being around that for a while.
But the only thing I got from him was that car,
which I sold to put food on the table.
Now, unless I'm being charged with something,
I think we're done here.
Mr Neville-Crowley,
on the night in question, what interaction, if any,
did you see taking place between your brother and Ms Windermere?
They were talking, laughing, dancing together.
Dancing closely?
Yes, I'd say there was an obvious attraction between them.
That's why, later, when I saw Teddy follow Bunty...
Sorry, Ms Windermere.
...through the garden, I assumed he wished to be alone with her.
For what purpose? My brother was never short of female company.
So, you believe he followed her with amorous intent?
I'm sure of it.
And that's the last time I saw him alive.
Thank you. No further questions.
Mr Neville-Crowley,
you argued with your brother the night he died.
What about? Well, he was being utterly vile.
How could you?!
That car's the one thing Father promised me, Teddy.
Pity there's no mention of it in the will.
So I suggest you run along and join the hunt.
Would you say you were angry enough to kill him? No. My Lord!
After all, your brother's death makes you a very wealthy man.
Mr Quinton, the witness is not on trial, the defendant is.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please disregard those last remarks.
Best keep this from Bunty.
She is in need of some good news and soon.
Which still evades me.
So, for now, I must observe all I can.
I have been making some observations of my own.
Excuse me.
Hand it over.
I beg your pardon?
You may have it back when all this is done.
Now, I have no idea what your problem is, and I don't care.
All I care about is Penelope.
Her future, maybe even her life, is dependent on you.
So...
...you'd better do your very best for that girl,
or you will have me to answer to.
You liked Mr Neville-Crowley, didn't you?
Yes, at first, I did.
And what was it you liked about him?
His good looks?
His money? That's important to you, isn't it?
Not as important as kindness or humour.
Oh, come, come.
You were enticed by his lavish home, weren't you?
You clearly enjoyed his hospitality.
So, what exactly did you expect
when you went off alone into the gardens with him?
I didn't. He followed me.
But you can't have been surprised when he did so.
You were seen flirting with him all evening.
That didn't give him the right to try and force me.
He forced you, did he?
Why would a rich, handsome man find the need to force any woman?
You've heard the evidence that Theodore had no shortage of offers.
He tried to kiss me and I said no.
And when he went right on kissing you, you scratched his face
and then you struck him with a branch.
I just wanted him to stop. Did you strike him? Yes or no.
Yes.
You'd been drinking champagne.
So much so that you later drove your car into a hedge,
isn't that correct? Yes.
So, it's fair to say that your memory of what happened is
far from reliable.
Yes, but... You were drunk and Teddy pushed you too far,
and that made you angry, didn't it, Ms Windermere?
Just like you're angry right now.
You struck him over and over again.
No! You killed him, didn't you?
No! But I'm not sorry I hit him.
No further questions, My Lord.
Mrs Neville-Crowley.
Are you all right? Call me Margot, please, Father.
I loathe my married name.
No woman should be treated like that, guilty or not.
You believe that Bunty could have killed Teddy?
I believe, if she did, he deserved it.
He was an utter cad.
He tried his luck with me once, you know, after I married Max.
I rebuffed him, of course.
But not every woman has been so fortunate.
There was that nasty business in Oxford.
What business was that?
Accusations were made by a female student.
Teddy was questioned,
but, naturally, the police believed his word over hers.
Twas ever thus.
You don't remember her name, do you?
The student?
Yes, I believe it was Lucy.
Lucy Reid.
My sister.
She was the first one in my family to go to university.
She was beautiful.
Happy.
Till he ruined her.
She killed herself last year.
I'm sorry.
May God have mercy on her eternal soul.
You can keep your sympathy, Father.
You lot treated her like dirt when she was expecting.
Your little girl...
She's Teddy's?!
Not that he cared.
So, I made him care.
Made him pay for what was right.
The £20 a month.
It's all been going into savings, all of it,
to give that girl a future her mother should've had.
But how did you get him to pay up?
It was easier than I thought.
I roughed him up a bit,
said if he called the police, they would know what he did.
One look at that kid and they'd know she was his.
Besides, their blood type would've matched.
After that, he was scared stiff.
I'd crash his parties,
have the run of the place.
You enjoyed tormenting him.
Why not?
After what he did to Lucy?
It sounds to me like you had every reason to kill him.
No.
I hated him...
...but he was paying up nicely.
Why ruin a good thing?
I swear to you...
...I didn't kill him.
Do you believe him, Father?
His loyalty is to his family.
Who would provide for them if he was charged with murder?
He could've still lost his temper.
After six months with Teddy?
No, Charlie's revenge was slow...
...considered.
The murder was frenzied, a crime of passion.
Sergeant, he's innocent,
I'm sure of it.
Then we're no closer to the truth.
Penelope tells me you have never lost a case.
What happened, Mr Quinton?
Happened? I don't know what you mean. Nothing happened.
In my experience, men are rarely driven to drink for no good reason.
An arsonist set fire to an empty building.
I got him off on a technicality.
Weeks later, he did it again.
A whole family erased because of me.
This is my first trial since.
I suppose I just needed a little Dutch courage.
You've not had a drink for 24 hours.
That took courage, didn't it?
Still no joy from Bristol?
I thought we were close.
If I could only go back to the beginning, somehow.
Mr Quinton,
the evidence admitted in court, is it still here?
It is indeed.
But before you ask, it's against the law for you to go anywhere near it.
Sometimes the law fails the innocent.
You should know that better than anyone.
Yes, I do.
But what you're asking is completely unethical.
And under no circumstances can I tell you what you're
looking for is in storage room D at the end of the corridor.
Father, can you please be quick?
Or we'll both end up in the dock, right next to Penelope.
It would be a different trial,
but I take your point.
Odd.
What?
Blood on the socks.
Well, there was blood everywhere.
On the suit, near the head wound, as you'd expect.
But why blood on the socks,
when there's none on the hems of his trousers?
Unless...
Unless what?
Pursuing your own inquiries behind my back.
Taking unauthorised trips to Bristol with Father Brown!
And what exactly did you achieve by this?!
Nothing, sir.
We let the suspect go.
You let him go.
Of course you did,
because the pair of you were barking up the wrong tree!
Barking up the wrong tree, but in the right neck of the woods, Inspector.
I think I've dis... I don't care!
You've tried my patience enough, Padre.
Sir, please...
I might have known you'd side with him.
It's not about sides, sir.
It's about Ms Windermere.
Thank you, Inspector.
Sometimes you have to build the whole jigsaw puzzle to find
out the piece that's missing.
Spare me the riddles and get to the point.
What's missing?
Something that will prove Bunty's innocence.
But I need you and your men's help to find it.
Ms Windermere is guilty.
Oh, come on, ladies and gentlemen, we all know it.
She is guilty of being a woman who dares to speak her mind.
She is guilty of being young and spirited.
Guilty of much impropriety.
Sometimes she likes to dance and drink too much champagne.
But a murderess she is not.
Merely a woman cornered in a darkened garden
by a man with only one thing in mind.
She struck him, once, then fled.
If she were the killer, why admit to striking him at all?
If she were so devious,
why leave an article of her own clothing at the scene?
And why was she not covered from head to toe in his blood?
Ladies and gentlemen, we're not here to determine who killed Mr Neville-Crowley,
only to decide whether there is enough evidence to convict
this woman.
Judge her character, if you will,
but do not condemn her for a crime of which she is entirely innocent.
This is absurd.
It's like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Haystack...
Sergeant, did you say that the gardener discovered the body?
Yeah, that's right, Father.
He said he'd been mowing the lawn.
If you think I'm putting my hands in that, you're very much mistaken.
As you wish, Inspector.
I'm sure Bunty will completely understand your fastidiousness.
The jury may now retire to make your deliberations.
Come on, Father, where are you?
As I thought, there's nothing to be found.
Let's go, Goodfellow.
Just a few more minutes, sir.
Sergeant, I'm ordering you to desist, immediately!
Deo gratias,
I think I've found it.
That was quick.
Is that a good thing?
Hey, get this tractor moved. It won't start. You can't move it?
No. You'll have to turn around, Goodfellow.
Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty
of the murder of Theodore Neville-Crowley?
Guilty, My Lord.
Wait, My Lord, wait! What's the meaning of this, Inspector?
Apologies for the interruption,
but I have new evidence that has a significant bearing on the case.
My Lord, we've already reached a verdict.
Thank you, Mr Sharpe, I'm aware of that.
This is highly irregular, Inspector.
But I will hear this evidence.
Mr Sharpe, Mr Quinton, please join me in my chambers.
We should go.
Mrs Neville-Crowley, will you come with me, please?
We have some questions for you.
What about?
I remember when we first met.
You won't have met my wife, Margot.
Hello.
It was the day after Teddy's death and you were wearing gloves.
And yet you take such pride in your colourful nails.
This is absurd.
Quite.
Could someone please explain what the devil is going on?
I shall, if you'll permit me.
I believe the gloves concealed an injury,
when you tore off a single nail
and lost in the grass at Teddy's estate.
That could be anyone's.
May I see your hands, please, Mrs Neville-Crowley?
It can take up to six months for a natural one to grow back.
What on Earth does that prove?
A brittle fingernail could easily snap off
as you dragged Teddy's dead weight across the lawn.
It was natural to assume that all the blood on Teddy's
clothes was his own.
And I suspect that the blood on the sock will be your blood type.
I saw him follow Bunty that night.
Someone had to stop him.
I wanted to help her. But she didn't need it.
She fought back.
You, stay away from me! Steady on, it was just a bit of fun!
I decided to do the same.
No.
Margot...
...tell them it's not true.
It can't be true.
Why would you kill Teddy for that?
Because it had happened before.
What Teddy did to Lucy, what he tried to do to Bunty...
...did he do the same to you?
I didn't want you to know.
I didn't want anyone to know!
Oh, my darling...
I'm sorry.
I'm so, so sorry!
I didn't come forward because I was afraid.
When Bunty was arrested,
I prayed they wouldn't have enough to convict her.
I don't expect her to forgive me.
I don't forgive myself.
Do you truly repent of your sins?
I do, Father.
I do repent.
Then God will forgive you.
Ms Windermere, in light of new, compelling evidence which
throws your conviction into doubt, I am now going to allow you
bail whilst the police make urgent enquiries, pending an appeal.
You are free to go at this time.
Oh, Father.
I should've known you'd do it. You always do.
It was a joint effort, I can assure you.
Thank you so much. Both of you.
All in a day's work, Ms Windermere.
And I for one never doubted your innocence.
Now, I've emptied it and given it a good clean,
so it's up to you if you wish to fill it again.
Thank you, Mrs McCarthy, but I think I'll be just fine without it.
Hear, hear.
And from now on, I shall steer clear of champagne.
After tonight, of course.
Well, I can celebrate, can't I?
Will that girl never learn?