♪ Abandon hope all ye who enter here.

♪ Slow down, Hugh.

Now take the next right, and then right again.

Is this going to take long?

I see nothing has changed in Dead Man's Gulch.

♪ Hey!

♪ CECILY: Stop the car, Hugh.

Cecily, what are you-- what are you doing?

We're going to miss the ferry.

We're not going to the Isle of Wight.

What do you mean?

Well, I wanted to surprise you.

I recognized it in the Daily Mail.

Come on.

Where'd you get the keys?

CECILY: It was Miss Malpass's bungalow.

Who's Miss Malpass?

My math teacher.

Oh, I see.

Westingsea Girls High.

I was tennis captain two years running, but she never, ever invited me to tea.

Oh, I see.

That was the big deal, was it?

Sunday tea with muffins and Miss Malpass.

Well, she invited every other girl to tea, but never me.

I hated that woman.

Oh, schoolteachers.

Hmm.

Well, what do you think, hey?

What about?

You promised me a holiday home.

You're not-- you're not seriously thinking of buying this shack?

I thought Cornwall was our dream.

The beach on our doorstep, the sun, the sea.

What more do you want?

You couldn't buy wallpaper like this, Hugh.

No, not with the damp already printed on it.

Ooh, and look, Hugh, Hugh.

Look.

Genuine arts and crafts.

Look at that.

Look, look.

Hugh.

Besides, I'm getting my own back.

Well, I've heard of people bearing grudges, but never buying one.

It's my money.

There's no answer to that.

Well, I would like you to take me to the west cliff now, please, Hugh.

Daddy's bench was here, Hugh.

Unless I'm going mad.

The seat was placed here by the Honorable Clara Prendergast that the weary might find rest.

Amen to that, Clara.

Why are you sitting down?

My father's seat isn't here, unless that old woman is sitting on it.

Cecily, sit down.

Look, we-- we haven't lived here for, what, 35 years?

More?

Things change.

We used to sit here on the seat together.

Dedicated to the people of Westingsea by Alderman Cecil Collins in gratitude for their trust and friendship.

Ha.

People used to raise their hats to my father as they passed or stop and speak.

It was a bit like holding court.

You were his royal princess.

My father never minded not having a son.

He never blamed my mother for it.

Is she going to sit there forever, hmm?

Excuse me.

I'm sorry.

My wife is looking for a particular seat.

I'm sorry.

I wonder if I can-- Oh, I'm so sorry.

I'm in the way.

That's fine.

I'm afraid I'm always in the way these days.

Rupert Moore gave this seat to Westingsea in thanks for his deliverance.

"I was in prison, and he came unto me."

Matthew, Chapter 25, Verse 35.

My wife's father was Alderman Cecil Collins.

He had a seat somewhere here.

I'm afraid the Alderman seat is no longer here.

Oh.

Thank you.

Sorry.

Well?

The old lady says that his seat is no longer here.

They have removed my father's seat?

She's sitting on somebody called Rupert Moore, who was in prison and let out or something.

There's a quotation from the Bible.

Thanks for his deliverance.

Rupert Moore?

Are you sure?

Rupert Moore?

- Yes, Rupert Moore.

It says on the seat.

Rupert Moore was a murderer, who poisoned his wife.

It's true.

It's true.

Rupert Moore.

The Rupert Moore.

My god, my father would never have allowed a seat dedicated to a murderer.

I'm sorry.

VOICE: Alice.

♪ CECILY: Hugh?

Yes, dear?

CECILY: I'd like you to look at something for me.

Coming.

I've asked the Japanese couple to take a six-month lease on Laburnum Terrace.

I thought we agreed not to let Laburnum Terrace until we were sure where we'd be.

Oh, well.

Eh.

Thank you.

HUGH: Just put those boxes in here, will you?

I am sure.

Well, I suppose I should be grateful it's not a year.

Well, you'll have time to do up the bungalow.

OK.

Thanks.

Why do people think that builders enjoy building?

There, there.

In there, bathroom.

No, no, no.

Not that.

That.

I want that removed as soon as possible.

Well, what's wrong with it?

Not where Miss Malpass parked her behind, thank you very much.

It's not too late to change your mind, you know, and go home.

Westingsea is home, Hugh.

We have come home, where we belong.

I hated living here.

My adolescence was a nightmare stuck in this godforsaken dump.

Oh, and that included me too, did it?

No.

You-- you know it didn't.

Well, I don't know.

You tell me.

You were the one good thing that happened to me here.

The one wonderful, beautiful thing in my life.

Don't you remember how much we both wanted to get out of Westing?

As I remember, I was very happy here.

My father wanted to give you a job.

That would have been a life sentence.

Alderman's boot on my neck.

My father never wore a boots in his life.

Hugh.

Hugh.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ My god, it is Cottle.

I thought it was you the moment you come through the door!

Arnold.

Arnold Cottle.

How wonderful to see you.

Remember Hugh, don't you?

How are you doing, old chap?

All contributions gratefully received.

Are you advertising something?

I am attired thus in honor of the birthday of that most noble lady, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.

God bless her.

- Really?

COTTLE: Yes.

She must be quite flattered.

Going to offer an old friend a drink, are you, Hugh?

Would you like a drink?

No, no.

Allow me.

Leonard, a bottle of your very finest for a champagne lady, if you please.

Mr. Cole, sir, I don't think-- Then don't think.

Just get on with it, what?

Come on.

This way, my lady.

Here we are, then.

Well, what brings you back to dear old Westingsea?

Holiday.

Well, as a matter of fact, we have bought a summer home here.

A sweet little bungalow.

A little haven.

Well, this is absolutely bloody marvelous.

This calls for a double celebration.

Allow me.

It takes an old gunner to fire off the big one, what?

You see that?

Damn, damn, damn.

Bugger, bastard.

Sodding damn!

Damn, damn, damn.

Sod it!

Sorry about this, sir.

Howard Arnold's a character, or a bloody scrounger.

Depends which way you look at it.

I went to school with Cottle.

Then you'll know him, sir.

Oh, I know him all right.

He stole my three .

But on the stones down there-- I mean, the stones on your bear bum.

- Cecily.

- It's too much.

I really think we should be making a move.

Oh, no, no, no.

No, we'll eat lunch here.

Find me a menu.

Go on.

- Allow me.

Arnold, no.

My pleasure, madam.

I wish you hadn't told me about the bungalow.

You're jealous.

I'd just rather we didn't get involved with Arnold Cottle.

Oh.

There we are, my lord.

There you are, then, Cecily.

Saddle up your white horse.

What are you talking about, Arnold?

You were always the one for civic duty, right?

Then put on your armor and right this injustice.

Oh, well, I just want that foul seat removed and my father's seat restored.

Then expose the woman who aided and abetted a murderer.

What woman?

The tart that Rupert Moore murdered his wife for.

She just as guilty, but she was never brought to justice.

I'm so sorry, Arnold.

Oh, the bike won't fit in the boot.

Oh, no problem.

See you there, Cec.

Are you going to let me get in?

♪ Hey!

♪ ♪ Anybody want some wine?

There you go.

Alice Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

We've been waiting for you.

Hello, darling.

You look beautiful.

May I have a word?

Could you tell me why Alderman Collins' seat was removed?

Oh, it wasn't removed.

It wasn't?

I'm afraid somebody set it on fire.

Oh.

The only consolation is he wasn't sitting on it when it went up.

Oh, that's meant to be funny, is it?

No, I suppose not.

My father did everything for this place.

Cecily, you know, if he hadn't resigned when he did, he'd have gone to jail.

I'm sorry.

That was stupid of me.

You don't have to fight his battles anymore.

Perhaps it was a mistake coming back here.

Why don't we just go home?

She is mixed up in it somehow.

Who is?

That old cow.

There has to be a reason why she's always sitting on that bench.

Perhaps she enjoys the view.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ There's a worm at the bottom of the garden, and his name is Wiggly Woo.

What kind of a man creeps up on his wife in the bath?

I just wondered if there was anything you needed.

Cigarette, please.

Now, before you say anything, I have decided to take Arnold up on his challenge and expose that woman.

Why?

For heaven's sakes, Cecily.

My father would've liked it.

No.

Even if it were true, what purpose does it serve now?

Justice would be served.

When Melanie died-- I don't want to talk about Melanie.

When we lost our daughter-- listen, when-- when our angel left us, the doctor wasn't to blame, not the anesthetist, not the nurse.

No one was to blame.

It was an accident.

One in a million.

It just-- it just happened to be our turn.

Now, your investigation made a tragedy which nearly destroyed us into a nightmare which did destroy other people.

Please, I don't want it to happen again, Cecily.

If this woman exists, she must be, what, 70?

Leave her in peace, hmm?

And Cottle, that scum bucket.

You don't know Cottle like I do.

Drop him.

Drop this whole business, please, Cecily, I beg you.

I was just thinking.

I might like to play with Wiggly Woo.

It'd be nice, wouldn't it?

For Christ's sake, Cecily, the nurse tried to commit suicide.

Don't you remember?

But I don't play with nasty boys.

I have changed my mind.

Good night.

CECILY: I know you're out there.

(SINGING) There's a worm at the bottom of the garden, and his name is Wiggly Woo.

He wiggles all night and he wiggles all day.

The people come around.

You can hear them say.

There's a worm at the bottom of my garden, and his name is Wiggly Woo.

Damn, damn, damn, damn, bugger!

Blast and-- Dr. Livingstone, I presume?

Dentist, was he?

Who?

Pieria.

Pieria, the fount of all inspiration.

You don't say.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

Drink deep or taste not the Pierian spring.

Thank you, Mr. Encyclopedia Britannica.

Memsahib at home, is she?

If you mean Cecily, she's busy.

Well, I'll just give her a knock, if you don't mind, old chum.

And I'm not your old chum.

Oh, yes, you are.

I know you, Bragsy.

Cec inherit all the old man's money, did she?

Arnold!

Ah, what a lovely surprise.

Are you coming in for a drink?

Who could resist such an invitation?

By the way, Bragsy, I seem to have sallied forth without any of the old moolah.

Couldn't lend me a few nicker, could you?

Just till tomorrow.

Thanks, Bragsy.

Now, don't get involved, Arnold.

He'll have you there all day hanging onto his bits and pieces.

I know.

COTTLE: Oh, what a lovely place.

You see, in my opinion, a lot of what went on with the trial, a lot of the evidence that was given-- Now, look here.

You see, there was-- We can make a start today, Hugh.

Arnold's bought me a book on the Rupert Moore trial.

How kind.

You see, Rupert Moore always insisted that he bought the cyanide at the chemist shop to kill wasps.

Ho, ho, ho.

Oh, is that a chocolate one?

The gate won't mend itself, Hugh.

Look here at this paragraph here.

Now, this one's always struck me as being something quite important.

Uh, uh.

Now, what do you think we're doing?

Mad, passionate love on Miss Malpass's Persian rug?

Well, that would be a first.

I-- I was wondering whether I might have another biscuit.

What do you think you're doing?

What am I doing?

What are you doing?

Well, I thought-- I thought while I had the screwdriver, I think I'll make sure the fire-- Now, Rose Moore died of cyanide poisoning.

Her liver was disproportionately enlarged and discolored, the most appropriate cause being the consumption of large quantities of alcohol over a long period of time.

Sounds like you.

She wasn't a secret lemonade drinker then, what?

And within three hours of her death, she had consumed a dish of beef with mushrooms.

Why don't you apply for an exhumation order?

Perhaps then they'd allow you to carry out the postmortem right here on the table.

Damn, damn, damn.

Bugger and blast and sod it!

Rupert Moore was very good looking and a talented painter.

A conclusive proof of guilt.

He also made the acquaintance of several young women who came to his house as models.

You can't hang a man for being an artist.

You can only hang his paintings.

Stop the car, Hugh.

Parked her arse on a tube of superglue.

I'm going to talk to her.

Cecily, leave her alone, please.

I'll have a word with the old Dutch.

You have a word with her.

Stay out of this, Cottle.

Oh, pardon me for breathing.

I think you're becoming obsessive, Cecily.

Attagirl, Cec.

(SINGING) There's a worm at the bottom of the garden, and his name is Wiggly Woo.

He wiggled all night and he wiggled all day.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

I-- I wondered if you might have known Rupert Moore.

Why do you ask that?

Because you're here so much.

Please leave me alone.

I don't wish for your company.

You put a cracker up her arse.

Whee!

Woohoo!

When Rupert Moore was released, he came back to Westingsea to live and had that seat made and put it out on the west cliff.

Only the locals were incensed to find that they had a murderer living in their midst.

But he was acquitted of murder.

Broke his windows.

Stoned him in the street.

I bet you threw the first stone, Cottle.

The woman in the case was never brought to justice, though.

What woman?

First thing you look for in any murder, any murder, is a motive.

Agreed?

I suppose so.

Rose Moore had no property, no money, no income, no insurance, therefore no motive.

Therefore, cherchez la femme.

It's obvious, isn't it?

Not to me.

He killed his wife so he could diddle this young tart.

My point exactly.

There must be a public inquiry and all the facts made public.

Then I can have that seat burnt and restore my father's seat.

Oh!

For Christ's sake!

Christ's sake!

You nearly killed us!

Sorry.

Little dog.

I don't see no dog.

There was a tiny little dog.

A Yorkshire, something of the kind.

Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

You all right, Cecily?

No thanks to you if I am.

You take deep breaths, dear.

Take deep breaths.

Calm down.

You'll be all right.

CECILY: Thanks for the whiplash injury, Hugh.

I think there's a problem with the suspension.

Oh, I didn't know it had any suspension.

I wanted a word in private.

Oh, yeah?

Well, spit it out.

Stop encouraging Cecily in this stupid obsession.

Why should I do that?

Common decency.

Now, look here, old chum.

The memsahib and I are going great guns.

How much do you want to keep away from her?

Come on.

Look, there's something you ought to know.

I had Cecy's knickers off regular before you even got to her bra strap.

You always had a second hand bike, mate.

Now, let that be a lesson to you.

Don't try it again, all right?

Fixed the suspension all right.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ HUGH: Dearest R.M.

Rupert Moore.

♪ With the lady on the bench.

♪ ♪ ♪ Cecily, what are you doing?

Oh, here we go again.

Thanks a lot.

My wife will kill me.

CECILY: It all fits together.

HUGH: What does?

CECILY: Constable Jones married a girl from the chemist.

How about that?

HUGH: How about what?

CECILY: Her name was Alice.

Rupert was having an affair with this tart and persuaded her to slip him some cyanide from the shop.

QED.

Quod erratic demonstrated.

So why did none of this come out then?

Rupert Moore kept his mouth shut, the girl lay low while the heat was on, and then married a policeman for protection.

Q-E-bloody-double-D.

They wouldn't go after one of their own, would they?

I seem unable to persuade you to give up this madness, Cecily.

You will have to find another chauffeur today.

And another car.

CECILY: Oh, that'll be Arnold!

Thank you, Hugh.

Oh!

COTTLE: Hello, hello, hello.

Oh, you've got all the gear here.

Bicycle helmet for your pretty little head, what?

Here's Hugh.

Oh.

Every man to his trade, hey?

It's the Red Baron.

You're not going on a motorbike with him?

Why not?

Well, if you don't know, I can't tell you.

May I ask where you're going?

To complete our investigation.

I can't persuade you not to do this?

Arnold, now, where shall we go for lunch?

Anywhere you please, my lady.

Anywhere you please.

- All right.

- Lead on.

I'm a little short the old radish.

Have you got a few?

Just till tomorrow, dear.

♪ ♪ ♪ Get off me!

Go on, then!

It's all right.

Good morning.

Good morning.

May I?

Yes.

You spend a great deal of time here.

I only live 200 yards away.

Oh, I'm sorry.

If I'm intruding, you must tell me.

My dear, it's a public seat.

But it's not for you, is it?

It's-- it's very private.

Well, if you say so.

My wife and I have bought Ellen Malpass's old bungalow.

Oh, I hope you'll be very happy there.

I found this photograph album.

You were a friend of Miss Malpass's.

May I ask who this man is?

Dearest R.M.

He was the love and light of my life.

I was hoping for a different answer.

You are Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Alice Jones?

I am, yes.

I wish I'd never started this conversation.

Please, forgive me.

♪ I'm sorry to have to do this to you, Cecily, but it's the only way I can think of stopping you.

♪ ♪ CECILY: Oh, woohoo!

I'd almost given you up.

I'll ignore the double intended.

Cec is perfectly safe with me, old chum.

This is very nice, Hugh.

I thought you'd enjoy a salad.

Very nice.

Here, take that, would you?

I shall have to leave you at home more often, Hugh.

I'll-- I'll wash up.

Please, start without me.

There we go.

Mm.

Come on, then.

Delicious.

Damn, damn, damn, damn.

Bugger and blast it.

Sod it.

You've gone and done it now, Bragsy.

Oh!

Octopus.

Horrid.

Here, he hasn't got much, has he?

Well, I'll have his bit.

We'll swap them over.

No difference, will it?

Oh, what a feast.

Oh.

Mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm.

Oh, I love this juice.

Oh, that's good.

Delicious.

Come on, Bragsy, get stuck in.

I love crab.

Well, aren't you going to ask us how we got on?

Oh.

How went the day?

Moore says they kept cyanide in the garden shed for killing wasps, and his wife took it herself.

Perhaps she did.

No.

Fact of the matter is, old chum, there's a letter that Rose Moore was supposed-- supposed to have written to her sister.

A letter in which she said her life wasn't worth living and she wanted to put an end to it all.

Which only goes to strengthen the case against Moore.

Well, I would have thought the very opposite.

Don't you see?

See what?

To forge a letter like that would be a matter of the utmost simplicity to an artist like Moore.

Ah, but you haven't heard the best of it yet.

In the county archives, there is another letter.

Which Moore would have burned if he'd known about it.

In which Rose says her husband has developed an obsession for one of his models.

She says-- ugh, next time, don't give me octopus.

I hate it.

Oh, sorry.

I thought it was a favorite.

Oh, it's all right, old chum.

I saw there wasn't much on your plate, so I swapped them over.

Swapped my plate?

Ah.

She says, "If I were well enough, I would go down to Westbourne Terrace and confront the girl."

Tomorrow, we go after the census records at Westbourne Terrace and we nail her.

And that's when I'll need your help to draw up the right kind of deposition.

Me?

Well, you'd be the magistrate.

You know the sort of thing we want.

You'll help us, won't you, Hugh?

Oh, leave her alone, for god's sake.

Leave who alone?

He knows who it is.

It's the old woman on the bench, isn't it?

Just stick his head down the bog.

Oh, where have I heard that before?

Well, it is no use lying to you.

I know who it is.

I've known all along.

Now, tell me.

Tell her.

Tell her!

Tell her!

Her name's Alice Jones.

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it all along!

Wicked cow.

How'd you find out?

How did you find out?

There's a photograph album.

Where is it?

I gave it to her.

Yes!

Oh, come on, Arnold!

You're a very naughty boy, aren't you, Bragsy, not telling the truth to your mummy?

Go to hell, Cottle.

See you there, matey.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Bastard!

Let it burn!

I've got it.

I've got it.

♪ ♪ I thought Rupert Moore was your husband.

No, no, you've got it quite wrong, my dear.

But when we talked, you said, Dearest R.M.

Was-- The light and love of my life.

So he was.

Ralph Montgomery.

Ralph Montgomery?

R.M., not Rupert Moore.

Ralph Montgomery was my first husband.

He and Rupert Moore were the best of friends.

Rupert painted that portrait of me.

Both artists, you see.

Paintbrush and chisel.

Chisel?

Ralph was a woodcarver.

He carved that seat for Rupert.

HUGH: So that's why.

ALICE: Inseparable they were, even in death.

They died together, you know, in a road accident.

Ralph Montgomery was the other man.

Of course.

I'm very sorry.

There's nothing to be sorry about.

And Constable Jones?

My second husband.

A very gentle, loving man.

And Rupert Moore, did he-- did he in fact, murder his wife?

Oh, no.

Of course he didn't.

Rose was a sad, neurotic woman.

She took her own life, I'm sorry to say.

HUGH: No crime, only tragedy.

What a disappointment to my wife Cecily.

Barking mad up the wrong tree altogether.

It's all right.

HUGH: And the-- the mystery woman?

What mystery woman?

Well, Rupert Moore's model, or is she another figment of my wife's twisted imagination?

ALICE: No, no.

It was a grand passion, all right.

You bought her bungalow.

She was Ellen Malpass.

Ellen Malpass's Persian rug.

♪ ♪ ♪