♪ ♪ MATTHEW: We're going to publish a new Atticus Pünd story.

♪ ♪ So who's going to write it?

MATTHEW: Eliot Crace.

His grandmother, Miriam Crace, was a monster.

We all know what has to be done.

We must never tell.

Mr.

Pünd!

I overheard something that shocked me to the core.

(gasping) HARRY: She's dead.

Murder takes them to places they do not want to go.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (birds chirping, insects buzzing) (humming) (humming stops) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (broom sweeping) (door opens) (footsteps approaching) (major general speaking German) (soldier replies in German) MAJOR GENERAL: You will accompany us please, Herr Director.

(Maria panting) DIRECTOR: There is nothing here.

(footsteps descending stairs) (soldier speaking German) (door creaks open) (soldier speaking German) (breathing softly) MAJOR GENERAL (speaking German): (breathing softly) SOLDIER: (speaking Greek): (slide racks) MAJOR GENERAL (speaking German): (speaking Greek): (speaking German): (gun fires, body falls) (gasps) (breath trembling) (slide racks) MAJOR GENERAL: ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (door sliding open) ♪ ♪ (breath trembling) Maria.

(gasps) Don't you have work to do?

Sorry, sir.

(footsteps retreating) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (people talking in background) (birds chirping) (sniffs) (footsteps approaching) You're Atticus Pünd.

Yes?

I wonder if I might join you.

It seems you already have.

I am Police Lieutenant Achilleus Vassilikos.

Let me say at once that I know who you are.

Your name is well-known to us.

I take that as a compliment.

I understand you have come to Corfu to meet Lady Margaret Chalfont.

No.

I have come here for my health.

I happened to meet Lady Chalfont, and she asked for my assistance.

On what matter?

She did not say.

We're having dinner this evening.

I am afraid that will not be possible, Herr Pünd.

Lady Chalfont died yesterday afternoon.

♪ ♪ Yes.

And you believe it is a matter for the police?

I would not be here otherwise.

What was the cause of death?

It is as yet unconfirmed, but we suspect poisoning.

You are aware, I'm sure, that Lady Chalfont was not well.

She told me she did not expect to live for another season.

Nevertheless, the evidence suggests she did not die a natural death.

(sighs) How can I be of assistance to you, Police Lieutenant?

Frankly, I do not believe you can help me in any way... Ooh?

...Herr Pünd.

But my superiors in Athens think otherwise.

If Lady Chalfont consulted you, she may well have been in fear of her life.

She did not seem to be.

Still, she approached you, and now she is dead.

Many clients have asked me to their houses, but, uh... (softly): ...not all of them have been murdered.

Do you not think you owe it to her to investigate what has occurred?

Is that what you are asking?

It is what my superiors are asking.

They are hoping you will agree.

(sighs) SUSAN: Why does he speak perfect English?

I'm sorry?

Achilles Vassilikos.

He's a police officer from Athens.

Why does he speak English?

Uh, I don't know.

You're writing this, Eliot.

I think you need an answer.

Look, there may be a problem setting it in Corfu.

I mean, I like it, I really do.

But I think you might be creating difficulties for yourself.

But Corfu makes sense.

Atticus has gone back to his roots.

Well, you say that, but in the museum chapter, they're speaking three languages: English, German, and Greek.

Don't you think it's a bit League of Nations?

And where would you set it?

It's not for me to say-- it's not my book.

All right.

I'll put in an explanation for why Achilles Vassilikos speaks English.

Thank you.

You speak excellent English, Police Lieutenant.

My father was a translator at the British Embassy before the war.

(knocks) He had a huge admiration for the British, and he insisted that I learn the language from the age of six.

Mm!

(both speaking Greek) JEFFREY: It all happened very suddenly.

We were having our tea.

Mother had her usual pot of lemon and ginger.

Everything seemed fine.

She said something was burning her throat.

And then... We, we thought she'd had a heart attack.

I still believe that.

We all loved her.

No one had any reason to do her harm.

So why, then, did you ask your lawyer to summon the police, Mr.

Lyttleton?

Isn't that what you're meant to do when someone dies?

Mr.

Lambrose said you were in a state of panic.

I wasn't panicking, I... I was upset.

Obviously.

Did you also drink the lemon and ginger tea?

Absolutely not.

No.

Jeffrey and I had Earl Grey.

Fortnum and Mason.

We have to bring it out here.

You can't get anything like that on this damn island.

The symptoms you describe, they do not suggest to me a heart attack.

Are you suggesting there was something in her tea?

(scoffs softly) That's absurd.

Who would want to kill a woman who only had months to live?

Why risk hanging when the end was so near anyway?

Oh, it will not be hanging.

Not in Greece.

It will be the firing squad.

Oh.

In any event, the tea has been sent to the laboratory in Athens for analysis.

And we will have the results very soon.

Who made the tea?

Maria Kapodistria.

VASSILIKOS: How long have you worked for the family?

Every summer for six years.

I am from Ithaki, my family.

Did you always make the tea?

Is my job.

Two teapots.

So which one did Lady Chalfont use?

Ah.

♪ ♪ The small one-- always the small.

After you made the tea, did you take it straight out?

I make the tea the same as I do every day.

♪ ♪ But this time, just when I finish, somebody knock... (knock at door) ...at the window.

Luan?

MARIA: I think it is maybe Luan, the gardener.

But there is no one, so I go back.

(mumbling in Greek) ♪ ♪ MARIA: And that is when I see.

I know I put the lid on the pot for Lady Chalfont.

I am certain, but, now... You, you did not see who knocked the window?

Mm, I, I see no one.

VASSILIKOS: There are three doors.

If someone came in, they could've used any one of them.

(stammers): No, sir, there are four, and I heard the door close.

Which door?

This one.

♪ ♪ A service staircase-- it leads up to the first floor.

I've spoken to the family, and they were all here when Lady Chalfont died.

Any one of them could've created a diversion.

Allowing another of them to slip down these stairs.

This is Judith Lyttleton's bedroom.

Jeffrey and Lola Chalfont are there.

Uh, Robert Waysmith, Elmer's son, over there.

As for Elmer himself, he has an office and a bedroom here at the far end.

He sleeps on his own.

And Lady Chalfont?

(gasps softly) A room with a view!

VASSILIKOS: This is where she liked to spend her time.

You mentioned a lawyer, Mr.

Lambrose.

For what reason had he come to the house?

Lady Chalfont had called him.

She wanted to talk about her will.

That is clearly of great significance, hm?

It would help if we knew what was in it.

CEDRIC (calling in distance): Mummy?

Oh.

(shushing) (whispering): Sorry.

CEDRIC: Mummy?

Mummy!

There you are!

Mummy, when can we go back to Norfolk?

We can't go back, Cedric.

'Cause someone killed Granny?

No.

The police don't think that.

They just want to ask us some questions.

CEDRIC: Did you kill her?

LOLA: I'm your mother!

How can you ask me that, hm?

'Cause she wouldn't give you the money for your play.

Now, that's a terrible thing to say!

Lady Chalfont asked me to investigate because of a conversation that she had overheard, concerning her second husband, Elmer Waysmith.

And it's true.

You can hear every word.

(knock at door) Hope I'm not interrupting.

I thought you might be hungry.

That's very kind, Gillian.

How's it all going?

Yeah, good-- we're just getting to the scene with Judith and Lola.

Mm.

Oh, right.

Okay, I'll leave you in peace.

Um, I've got my shift, so... Thanks for these.

(chuckles) Susan, you, you don't mind me asking, do you?

Are you enjoying it?

Do you think it's good?

I think it's very good.

Really?

Yeah-- I'll tell you something, if Alan Conway was still alive, I think he'd be impressed.

If Alan was still alive, I wouldn't have got the gig.

(chuckles) So are, are you gonna be Eliot's editor, then?

Gillian.

I think the decision's been made-- yes.

Really?

Yeah.

(laughing): Oh, I'm so glad.

(chuckles) I, I just know this one is gonna be a huge bestseller.

I hope so.

(kisses) I'll be back at 6:00.

Sorry about that.

Don't be-- I, I could do with one of these.

(house door closes) Actually, there's something I haven't asked you.

Go on.

You've read 60 pages, 20,000 words.

Have you guessed who did it?

♪ ♪ Must've been Elmer.

You did not see him?

No.

But I heard someone go down the service stairway just around 4:00.

The stairs creak.

LOLA: It wasn't me.

I was reading in the library.

And it certainly wasn't me.

As far as I know, Elmer was the only one up here.

Dr.

Lyttleton, how would you describe your relationship with Mr.

Waysmith?

Not an easy one.

Ah.

I adored my father.

When he died, I never expected Mother to marry again.

Certainly not to someone ten years her junior.

JUDITH: We all assumed Elmer was a gold digger when he joined the family, and it's true he had Mother wrapped around his little finger.

VASSILIKOS: But Mr.

Waysmith is himself a wealthy man.

That's true.

He inherited a fortune from his first wife when she died.

And how did she die?

Well, she threw herself under a train in Grand Central Station in New York.

To take her own life.

(clicks tongue) I wonder, what could've driven her to such a desperate act?

Maybe it was Elmer.

♪ ♪ I want to leave as soon as the will has been read.

Right.

(sighs) We'll have the funeral in England.

In Norfolk?

Yes, in Norfolk, of course!

Where did you expect it to be, Paddington Station?

Whatever you say, Pa.

(door opens) Mr.

Waysmith.

(sighs) I hope we're not interrupting you.

You are interrupting me.

Who is this?

This is Atticus Pünd.

He has a few questions for you.

My wife died of a heart attack.

I didn't realize we needed Interpol.

I wonder if you could tell us what your movements were yesterday, Mr.

Waysmith.

(sighs) We don't need you, Robert.

I'll talk to these people on my own.

Whatever you say, Pa-- if, if that's all right?

(starts) ELMER (shouting): I said, we don't need you!

Just do as I say.

(door opens) (door closes) I was at home all day yesterday, apart from lunch with my son at Votsalo.

That's a restaurant in the Old Town.

Ooh.

We met at 1:00, but I was back here by 3:00.

Must be a uniquely painful experience for you to have lost not one, but two wives in such an unnatural way.

Margaret's death wasn't unnatural.

She had been ill for quite some time.

If it's not too personal a question, when you married Margaret Chalfont, how did the family react?

(scoffs softly) Well, it is a personal question, Mr.

Pünd.

But I'll tell you anyway.

They resented me from the moment I came onto the scene, and I'll tell you why.

Because they were bleeding her dry.

All they ever wanted was her money, and whatever they may say to the contrary, they can't wait for the reading of her will.

You know what it contains?

Oh, I do.

They don't.

That's the fun of it.

Let's just say they may be in for a big surprise.

You will not tell us?

No, Police Lieutenant.

I don't have to and I don't think I will.

Now, if you don't mind... Oh!

I do have one further question, Mr.

Waysmith.

There's a book on the shelf behind you.

If, if I may... (chuckles) ♪ ♪ I could not help noticing that it's been read recently.

It was jutting out.

"Erskine's Toxicology: A Study of Poisons."

This is yours?

♪ ♪ The hell with you, Mr.

Pünd.

The Emperor Claudius was poisoned.

(loudly): As was Britannicus, Ptolemy, Alexander the Great, and many more.

I sell antiquities, and it's my job to know the stories behind them.

(softly): My job.

That's all.

(slams) (people talking in background) (bicycle bell rings) What is it you want?

I thought you might like to see these.

These are the photographs of the calyx krater from the Vathy Museum in Ithaca.

Stolen by the Nazis in June 1944.

There can be no doubt of it.

I know, I was there.

What now?

Now I can make my move.

No, is not possible.

Everything change.

What?

Lady Chalfont is dead.

♪ ♪ What's a calyx krater?

It's some sort of old sort of vase.

I found it on Google.

Well, it works really well.

You really don't like Elmer, do you?

He's based on someone I know.

And who might that be?

Does it matter?

Well, maybe it does.

You know, Alan Conway played games.

He put people into his books, people that he knew, but it was never in a pleasant way.

He turned them into caricatures, and sometimes he made anagrams of them.

Darnley was one.

Darnley?

Mm.

L-E-Y?

Yeah.

Oh, Ryeland!

That's you!

Are you doing the same?

Well, I thought the whole idea was to do the same as Alan Conway.

It was those games that got him killed, Eliot.

Villa Belmar?

What about it?

Belmar is an anagram of Marble, as in Marble Hall.

I wondered if you'd noticed that.

And Miriam Crace, your grandmother, has the same initials as Margaret Chalfont.

Both elderly ladies who die quite suddenly.

Is that part of the plot?

It might be.

I'm trying to help you, Eliot.

You can't keep secrets from me.

Isn't that what mystery novels are all about?

You know what I mean.

I saw Elaine Clover yesterday.

How is she?

She's worried about you.

(exhales) She said you were very unhappy at Marble Hall.

Unhappy?

Sorry, is that what she said, "unhappy"?

She said you hated your grandmother.

We all did, every one of us.

Marble Hall was like a prison.

We were all trapped there.

Because, you see, she had the money, fame, power.

Do you know the biggest mistake I ever made?

(knocking softly) I told her I wanted to be a writer, like her.

Come in.

Oh!

ELIOT: I'd written this story called "Space Boy."

Now, what's this?

ELIOT: It was about a little kid who builds a rocket and travels to the moon.

My father persuaded me to show it to her.

♪ ♪ (page turns) (clicks tongue) It's very sweet, Eliot.

I'm flattered you want to be like me.

But, uh, this isn't very good.

You can't write.

You can't spell.

And reading this, I wouldn't say you have much imagination.

You're just like your father.

And maybe you should lower your expectations and do something more boring with your life.

Like him.

♪ ♪ ELIOT: Don't ever say I was "unhappy" at Marble Hall.

It was torture living there.

Do you know it's open to the public now?

You can visit there for, like, 12 quid.

I sometimes think about going back just to burn it down.

In your book, Margaret Chalfont gets poisoned.

Yeah.

But Miriam Crace died a natural death.

And what gave you that idea?

It was in all the papers, it... It was never in question.

♪ ♪ Read on.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (people talking in background) SINGERS (over speakers): ♪ Tiny People, Tiny People on the go ♪ ♪ We are the Tiny People ♪ ♪ We're tiny ♪ ♪ That's why we're coming for you ♪ ♪ The Tiny People never sit, we know what to do ♪ There you are.

Thank you.

SINGERS: ♪ Eeny, meeny, miny, mo, Tiny People ♪ ♪ On the go ♪ ♪ We are the Tiny People ♪ BRENDA: Good afternoon, everyone.

Welcome to Marble Hall.

Please come this way for the 3:30 tour.

(talking softly) BRENDA: So, I'm Brenda, and it's my pleasure to show you round the house where it all began.

And what better place to start than here, in the library, where Miriam Crace actually wrote many of the books, sitting at that desk there.

Oh, uh, oh!

Please, uh, don't sit in her chair, as Mr.

and Mrs.

Tiny definitely wouldn't like it.

(all laugh) Um, a few facts to start us off.

There were 63 books about the Tiny People, and they are said to have sold 300 million copies in over 90 languages.

Uh, this is a Korean edition, but you'll find many others on the shelves.

Again, please, no touching.

Um, over here is a collection of Miriam's left-handed pens.

She was a left-handed writer... WOMAN: Ah!

...and bought a new pen for every book.

(guests murmuring) Um, and this is a facsimile of Grandpa's stopwatch, which was given to Miriam on her 50th birthday by the Society of Authors.

Uh, as you can see, it's showing 4:00, because... GUESTS: It always stops at teatime.

(laughs) That's right!

Uh, incidentally, Netflix has just bought the rights to make a new series, so that's definitely something to look forward to.

Um, anyway, please, do look around, and, any questions, just ask.

(guests murmuring thanks) (talking softly in background) ♪ ♪ Uh, excuse me, um... Who's this?

BRENDA: That's Miriam Crace.

Uh, no, with her.

That's her driver.

His name was Luan.

He was with her for years.

Mm.

BRENDA: So, shall we move on?

This way.

(guests talking softly in background) ♪ ♪ BRENDA: So now we're heading up to the first floor, and please do watch your step.

What's with all these stuffed animals?

They weren't in the books.

Oh, no.

That was Arthur Crace, Miriam's husband.

He died in 2001, but taxidermy was his hobby.

MAN: You mean he made these?

BRENDA: Some of them.

He also bought old specimens.

This one, for example.

It's Victorian, and we're not allowed to touch it.

WOMAN: In case it falls apart?

(laughs): It's not just that.

I'm afraid it's our old friends again, Health and Safety.

Anyway, this is the corridor that Miriam shared with two of her grandchildren.

Her youngest grandson had the bedroom at the far end.

His name is Eliot, and he's actually written a couple of books himself.

Although I'm afraid they weren't terribly successful.

His older brother, Roland, had the bedroom opposite-- he still works with the estate.

But now we're going to go into Miriam's bedroom, which is just here.

This is Miriam's bedroom, and this is where, very sadly, she died.

That was on April the 12th, 2004-- almost exactly 20 years ago to this day.

Her funeral was in Westminster Abbey, and you may have noticed, when we were downstairs in the library, the family received a letter of condolence from the queen.

What did she die of?

She had a heart attack.

She'd been ill for quite some time.

In 1967, she had to spend six months in a clinic in Lausanne.

That was for stress.

She worked so very hard.

Anyway, let's, um, carry on through here.

SINGERS (on speakers): ♪ We're tiny ♪ BRENDA: Thank you very much for coming.

I'm really glad you enjoyed it.

Thank you.

(song continues) SUSAN: That was a wonderful tour, thank you.

Oh, it's my pleasure.

Are you, are you a fan of the Tiny People?

Oh, yes, I've been reading them since I was this high.

(both laugh) I can't believe this is where it all began.

Beautiful house.

Mm.

Did Miriam want it to become a museum?

Uh, no, that was Jonathan, the eldest son.

He looks after the estate.

I'm surprised he doesn't live here.

Ah, most of the family left after Miriam died.

It was very painful for them.

Mm-- most of them?

Actually, Frederick Turner still lives here.

He was Miriam's adopted son.

Ah.

He was brought here as a boy, and now he manages the house.

Would it be possible to meet him?

Oh, well, I don't know, I... I'm sorry, I'm, I'm Susan Ryeland.

I'm actually working with Eliot Crace, Miriam's grandson.

He's writing a book.

Could you ask him?

He can always say no.

(people talking in background) Susan Ryeland?

Um, yes!

I'm sorry.

I hope my appearance didn't alarm you.

Uh, no, no, not at all.

You're Frederick Turner.

Yes.

Mm.

I was, uh, involved in a car accident a long time ago.

I went through a red light on my way to the airport, and a lorry hit me side on.

I'm sorry.

Well, it was my fault.

I had a head cold and I wasn't concentrating.

Right-- no, no, I wasn't, I wasn't alarmed, it's just that, um, I didn't know if you'd want to see me.

Well, if you're working with Eliot.

(chuckles) How is he?

He's, he's busy.

This book of his, is it set at Marble Hall?

No, no, it's, um, it's a murder mystery set in Corfu.

But he does draw on some of his childhood experiences.

Hm!

I'm afraid he wasn't very happy here.

He was a strange boy.

I remember him well.

Mm.

He wanted to be a writer, even then.

He was certainly imaginative.

How can I help you?

Tell me about Eliot.

Why do you think he was so unhappy?

I wouldn't like to say.

I came to Marble Hall when I was seven years old, and it saved my life.

Ah.

If Eliot's writing a mystery story, he should start with me.

(both laugh) Tell me.

My mother died giving birth to me.

I know very little about her apart from her name, Mary Turner.

And my father was a Traveler, doing agricultural work, name unknown.

I ended up at an institution in Salisbury, the St.

Ambrose Children's Home and Orphanage.

Mrs.

Crace was a patron, and she adopted me.

She changed my whole life.

You, you didn't call her Miriam, or Mother?

I never called her that when she was alive, and I wouldn't dare do it now.

(chuckles) I respected her too much.

And you actually lived here?

Not all the time.

Mrs.

Crace paid for me to go to accountancy school in London.

I was the family accountant for 15 years, but when they decided to open the hall to the public, Jonathan suggested I might like to run it, and so here I am.

I have my old room up in the eaves, and I'm very comfortable.

Were you here when she died?

Yes.

♪ ♪ Yes, I'll never forget it.

It took forever for the doctor to arrive.

Dr.

Lambert, come in.

(car door closes) Where is she?

In her room.

She pressed her panic button at 6:00, but when the maid got to her room, she wasn't breathing.

FREDERICK: It still hadn't sunk in.

I couldn't believe it.

(footsteps approaching) Dr.

Lambert.

Jonathan, how is she?

I don't know-- she's not moving.

♪ ♪ FREDERICK: It was the worst day of my life.

(closes firmly) Could I speak to Dr.

Lambert?

Why would you want to?

(inhales) He lives in Urchfont, the next village.

He's retired now.

Right.

Was there ever any suggestion that there might've been something unnatural about her death?

No.

Is that what Eliot's saying?

N... No!

Not at all.

Miriam Crace made millions of people happy.

(voice trembling): When I was alone in the orphanage, it was her work that gave me hope that I might one day have a future.

(whispers): You know, you should think carefully, Susan.

(aloud): We will not allow you or Eliot or anyone to damage her name.

I... ♪ ♪ (sighs) ♪ ♪ He was lying.

Or maybe it is you who are becoming more mistrustful.

Well, either way, you're not gonna tell me, are you?

(chuckles) Frederick Turner never referred to Miriam as his mother.

He worked as the accountant for the family for 15 years and he lived in the attic!

What does that sound like to you?

It sounds a great deal better than an orphanage.

He was covering up for her.

Or protecting her.

(grunts) It's the worst thing about a murder investigation, Susan.

By its very nature, it forces you to look for the worst in everyone.

You search for a monster.

But the danger is, you can become one yourself.

Exactly.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (brake engages, engine stops) ♪ ♪ LAMBERT: So, Eliot's writing a book.

Mm.

Does his family know?

They might.

I'm sure they won't be pleased.

We all had to sign an NDA before we got anywhere near Marble Hall.

A non-disclosure agreement.

Did they have something to hide?

Not at all, they were just protecting their interests.

Eliot does have quite a negative view of his grandmother.

Well, I'd take anything Eliot has to say with a pinch of salt, my dear.

He was 12 years old when he left Marble Hall.

A very devious child.

You knew the family well?

Oh, yes.

Not socially, of course.

I was the family doctor for more than 30 years.

Oh.

I was in and out all the time.

I treated her husband, Arthur.

He actually got quite seriously ill.

And died?

No.

He had a hobby.

Taxidermy.

It brought him into contact with some quite unpleasant chemicals, and he contracted a skin disease.

Oh.

I put him on a course of dimercaprol and it cleared up in the end.

He was always grateful to me.

You should tell her about Eliot.

I don't think so.

What about him?

♪ ♪ Eliot had a morbid fascination with poison and with disease, and something happened just before his grandmother died.

I was treating his sister, Julia.

It was nothing very serious-- tonsilitis.

Now, this won't hurt.

I'm just going to look at your throat.

Open wide.

Say "ah."

Ah.

LAMBERT: Eliot?

Eliot!

LAMBERT: And then I saw it with my own eyes.

He stole one of the bottles of medicine from my bag.

Little thief.

And a few days later his grandmother died?

It was only a bottle of cough medicine, liqufruta-- quite harmless.

Still, it's quite a coincidence.

Mrs.

Crace died of mitral stenosis.

Heart disease.

I issued the death certificate and informed the coroner.

I can assure you, Miss Ryeland, that there was nothing even faintly suspicious about her death.

Mitral stenosis is fatal in 80% of cases.

And who would want to harm her, anyway?

She was loved all over the world.

Outrageous.

LAMBERT: Indeed.

Sorry, Dr.

Lambert, I didn't mean to offend you.

I'm sure Miriam Crace was a wonderful person.

She was always very kind to me.

Mm.

Is this yours?

(sighs) Yes.

(chuckles) It's beautiful.

A Jaguar XK140.

3.4-liter twin-cam straight-six.

I've got a Triumph Spitfire in the garage.

Lucky you.

(chuckles) It's all thanks to Miriam Crace.

She left me a generous bequest in her will.

She was a wonderful woman.

I still miss her.

We all do.

Bye.

(birds chirping) ♪ ♪ (speaking Greek) VASSILIKOS: You are Hector Lambrose?

Yes, sir.

And who are you?

I am Police Lieutenant Achilleus Vassilikos.

This is my associate, Atticus Pünd.

We would like to have a word with you.

Is it about Lady Chalfont?

Yes.

Well, I'm afraid I can't speak to you now.

I'm here for the reading of the will.

That will have to wait, Mr.

Lambrose.

I am conducting an official murder investigation.

♪ ♪ Murder?

We need to see you now.

♪ ♪ (door closes) ♪ ♪ I sent a sample of the tea that Lady Chalfont drank to Athens for analysis, and I received a telephone call this morning.

She was poisoned with aconitine.

Poisoned?

No, that's impossible.

You are?

My name is Sofia Androulakis.

I'm Mr.

Lambrose's private secretary.

Well, I'm sorry, Miss Androulakis.

There can be no doubt.

I understand that you arrived at the villa at exactly the moment Lady Chalfont died.

Can you tell me why?

Yes, of course.

She had telephoned me and asked me to come.

Ah.

Did she say what it was that she wished to discuss?

Only that it concerned the will.

Was she intending to change it?

Our conversation was very brief.

She just asked me to bring it with me and then she rang off.

And when did she make this call?

It was a quarter past two last Wednesday.

The same day that she met me.

I took the call, and I transferred it to Mr.

Lambrose.

How did you come to be working here in Corfu, Mr.

Lambrose?

I started a private practice in 1949.

There are a great many English families who have homes here and require legal assistance.

Miss Androulakis is bilingual and has been at my side from the very start.

I have to say I'll miss her.

You're leaving?

Miss Androulakis is engaged to be married.

(exhales) Who is the lucky man?

(chuckling): Oh, um... His name is Antonis-- he works in a hotel.

Ah.

VASSILIKOS: Who in the family knows the contents of the will, Mr.

Lambrose?

LAMBROSE: Only Elmer Waysmith.

He is Lady Chalfont's husband.

He helped with the drafting, but no one else has any idea what I'm about to reveal.

Well, then, why don't you tell them what they want to hear, and let's see how they react?

♪ ♪ (exhales) How long do you think they're gonna be?

I don't know, Robert.

Why don't you ask them?

You know what's in the will, Elmer.

Why don't you just tell us?

Because it's none of my business.

I wonder.

How much money did you persuade her to leave you?

You really think that anyone could've persuaded your mother to do something she didn't want to do?

(scoffs softly) Oh, it's damn hot.

Where's Maria with the lemonade?

♪ ♪ Will Grandma have left me any money?

Shh, Cedric, eh?

You can't ask questions like that.

Why?

That's what you want to know.

(footsteps approaching) Sir?

Hm?

At last.

LAMBROSE: Please.

Please, everyone.

Will you take your places?

Police Lieutenant Vassilikos wishes to say a few words before we begin.

Is he staying?

Please.

VASSILIKOS: I regret to have to inform you that I am now engaged in an official murder investigation.

Analysis has shown that Lady Chalfont was poisoned... (gasps) (sighs) ...with aconitine in her tea.

I knew it, I knew it!

One of you... Hey, Pa, don't say that!

Come on, course that's not true.

It's impossible-- you've made a mistake.

Yeah, we, we were there, we were with her!

You're wrong-- we all loved her.

None of us would've harmed her.

LOLA: What is aconitine?

You can't seriously believe it was any of us.

JUDITH: My mother was dying anyway.

She had only weeks to live.

Why would anyone want to kill her?

PÜND: That is a good question, Dr.

Lyttleton.

And you can be sure that we will find the answer.

The police lieutenant has asked-- nay, demanded-- to be present for the reading of the will.

Does anyone have any objections?

(sighs) I object.

This is a private family occasion.

Do we have any choice?

It seems very likely that your stepmother's death was related to the will.

The sooner we know the contents, the sooner we can act.

Sit down, then, for God's sake.

Let's get this over with.

Oh.

(loudly): Thank you, Maria.

LAMBROSE: First of all, I would like to express my condolences to all of you.

We all loved and admired Lady Chalfont, and although we knew she was gravely ill, none of us could have predicted this terrible turn of events.

We can dispense with the estate of Chalfont Hall in the county of Norfolk, which has already passed down to the seventh earl, Jeffrey Chalfont, following the death of his father: 500 acres, including the manor house, various farm buildings, and the hunting lodge.

(softly): What is the point of having all that land if you can't afford to keep it?

Sh.

We are here today to discuss the considerable fortune which Lady Chalfont inherited from her first husband: this property... (breathes deeply) ...the house in St.

James's, London, the private bank and funds, which total together £900,000... (breathes deeply) ...sterling.

(whispers): Is that a lot?

(whispers): Yes, Cedric.

It's a fortune.

LAMBROSE: I spoke at length to Lady Chalfont last summer.

She had made certain arrangements which she wished to explain to you herself.

To that end, she wrote a final communication witnessed by myself and Miss Androulakis in my office.

"I have come to a decision with respect to my will... (with Lady Chalfont): "...and I want it to be known "that it is, without question, "my decision and mine alone.

"I do this without any malice, "and "with only... (sighing): ...the best intentions."

♪ ♪ "I am very fond of the young people "who make up my immediate family, but I sometimes question their judgment."

What?

LADY CHALFONT: "Which is why "I am leaving the bulk of my estate to my dear Elmer..." What?!

(gasps) LAMBROSE: "...who has been "my rod and my staff since the loss of my first husband."

What does that mean, "the bulk"?

Please let me continue, milord.

(sighs) Go on, then.

"I am leaving the sum of £20,000 to my son Jeffrey Chalfont and his wife."

Is that each or between us?

"I am leaving the same amount to my daughter Judith and her husband, Harry."

(mutters) "Cedric will receive his parcel of £20,000 on his 21st birthday."

That's ages away.

LAMBROSE: "My stepson, Robert Waysmith, will also receive £10,000."

Well, I suppose that's what she thought I was worth.

"But the rest of my estate, in its entirety, I bequeath to Elmer Waysmith."

LADY CHALFONT: "I know that he has no need of the money, "but I am making him the custodian of my wealth "to protect my family.

"He will provide them with guidance and financial support they need..." "...whilst at the same time protecting them from their worst excesses."

What does, what does that mean?!

Your late mother made it quite clear, milord.

You have each been given sizeable amounts... Peanuts!

(exhales) ...and the bulk of the estate is at your disposal, but she has made Mr.

Waysmith her executor.

HARRY: You mean, if we want money, we have to ask him.

LAMBROSE: Yes.

Do you have any idea how much it costs to build a hotel?

£20,000 will barely pay for the foundations.

It's my £20,000, Harry, and I need it for Peru.

(scoffs) You are joking!

It'll take ten times that amount to save the Nazca lines.

LOLA: This is your doing.

You put her up to this!

No.

That's not how it was.

You're a crook.

A gold digger.

Just like we always thought.

Do not talk to my father like that.

It's true.

LAMBROSE: Ladies and gentlemen, please.

He turned Margaret against us from the day he married her!

(bellowing): Now you listen to me!

Margaret knew you all for what you are.

Feckless, weak... ...obsessed with money without ever having earned a penny of it in your life!

You're running your father's estate into the ground while you're off partying, drinking, gambling.

You're pouring money into a hotel that's never gonna see the light of day, while you're throwing thousands at a monument that no one's ever heard of and no one's ever gonna see.

And you want to keep the money for yourself.

You're a thief!

I'm not gonna take that from a second-rate actress who's trying to buy her way back into show business!

That's enough now-- I think everyone should sit down.

You killed her, didn't you?

(groans) You knew about the will, so you put poison in her tea!

You take that back!

Your father is a thief and a murderer!

(yelps) No, you mustn't!

Stop!

JUDITH: What have you done?

No, Harry.

HARRY: Leave me alone!

You and your father are both swine.

(both grunting) Get off of me!

Harry!

JEFFREY: Get him, Harry!

(all shouting, exclaiming) No!

JEFFREY: Get him, Harry!

Stick him one!

No!

I will have you both arrested!

That's it!

JUDITH: Get off!

Go on, Harry!

VASSILIKOS: Stop this at once!

I wonder who will be murdered next.

(shouting continues) (click) ♪ ♪ The man we are going to see collects every herb on the island, even the most poisonous.

PÜND: Your father, how was he that day?

Did he look someone who was planning to murder his wife?

SUSAN: Do you believe that your grandmother was murdered?

(laughs) JONATHAN: Your job is to protect us from Susan Ryeland.

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