[theme music] [woman speaking faintly on P.A.]

There she is.

Kit!

Kit, here!

Ah!

Oh my God!

Kit!

[laughs] And you!

[laughs] Darling, come and meet the family.

Hello, I'm Matt, I'm the eldest.

Nice to meet you, Matt.

Peter, the youngest, until our Kit came along.

Luke, great to meet you.

-Hello, Luke, how are you?

-Ned.

Welcome to the Kelly clan, Mr. de Goris.

Thank you, Ned.

I'm glad to be a part of it.

And this is the mother of all the Kellys.

Ma, come and meet my new husband, Byron de Goris.

Ah, Mrs. Kelly, I'm very pleased to meet you.

Hmm.

[snickers] She was never much of a talker, but you could always speak volumes with your look, couldn't you, ma'?

[telephone rings] I'll get that, shall I?

Pie in the Sky.

Oh, hello, Mrs. Cartwright.

How are you?

-Do you want a taste?

-No, no, you go ahead.

Oh, dear, I am sorry.

No, no, of course, I quite understand.

Yeah.

-No.

-Yes.

There's something not quite right with that.

Don't blame me, it was your choice.

Only because the Cartwrights asked for it specially.

They've just canceled.

-But-- -Why?

Influenza.

What, all six of them?

I've spent hours.

Well, don't worry, somebody will eat it.

After all, some people will eat almost anything.

Instant energy, Henry.

You should try some someday.

And this from the woman who every night falls asleep in mid-sentence.

[telephone ringing] Pie in the Sky.

Hello, Matt.

Oh.

Today?

Oh, I don't think the accounts are gonna be ready today.

[laughs] It's not.

Oh, yes, of course.

Oh, I'll come now if you like.

No, it's no problem.

And yet can find the energy to chat up a client.

The Kelly account is what pays the butcher, the baker, and the red-wine maker, Henry!

Don't forget Tilly, now.

[bell dings] If you do that one more time, I'll get your father onto you!

Time for the bar, lads.

So, Byron, what's your poison?

Not for me, thanks.

I've got a couple of calls to make, my agent, the television company.

I'll come with you.

Oh, oh, it's all right, sweetheart.

Your family have come especially to see you.

I'm with you.

I won't disturb you, promise.

[snickers] [phone rings] So, what do you make of your man, then?

He's not what you'd call a talker.

He's a writer.

They think long.

He's a gobsmacked writer.

Didn't realize until today he'd married into a dynasty.

[laughing[ Marry in haste.

♪ Life is just a bowl of cherries ♪ [imitates trumpet] ♪ You work, you play, you worry so ♪ ♪ But you can't take it with you when you go, go-- ♪ Look, I'm sorry I said that about the Kelly account.

Your work pays just as many bills as mine does, Henry.

-Right.

-Catch-22.

What?

Well, I mean, life, it's not a bowl of fruit, is it, Margaret?

See, your accountancy and my police work are actually paying to keep the restaurant going and at the same time, it's keeping us more and more away from the restaurant, which is actually the place we'd rather be.

See, that's life.

That's the catch.

Henry, you are going to have to buck up, you know.

When the chef is down, the takings are down.

Yes, but it's the chef's wife that they see out front.

Meaning?

Speak to me.

Last night, I took a superb spinach souffle straight from the oven over to table four, and you yawned.

Oh!

She did, she yawned and the souffle sighed and sank.

Oh, don't be ridiculous, Henry.

Souffles don't have feelings.

Sorry to interrupt.

No, no, no, not at all.

Your timing is impeccable as usual, Sergeant Cambridge.

No more souffles or other neurotic puddings until further notice by order of the chef's wife.

All right?

I've got some really cheerful King Edwards here.

Hand-reared, no hang-ups.

Nice one, Henderson.

She loves you, really.

You think so?

Thank you, Mr. Chepstow.

I look forward to meeting you, too.

Goodbye.

I have a meeting with the producer in an hour.

Then you'll be wanting a shower and a change of clothes.

Since when does the police petrol budget stretch as far as sending a detective inspector and a detective sergeant to arrest a petty thief who's probably working on the staff anyway?

Since the wife of the manager of the Barstock Grange Hotel started playing tennis with the wife of the chief constable.

Oh, perfect.

[door knocking] [telephone rings] My staff all have impeccable references.

Oh, they usually do, sir.

You meaning forgeries?

No, not necessarily.

Some thieves are very good at their legitimate jobs.

[Manager sighs] Excuse me.

Sir.

There's been another theft.

I don't believe this is happening.

We shall, of course, arrange compensation, sir.

Those documents are irreplaceable.

I need them.

That briefcase belonged to my father.

Could you give Sergeant Cambridge a list, sir?

A list?

Of the contents.

Look, I can't handle this right now.

I'm late for a meeting.

Darling, will you take care of it for me?

I won't be long.

My wallet, it was on the bed.

Okay, take my card.

Get lots of cash for both of us.

Now, here's the magic number.

We'll sort it all out later, okay?

Now you go and sock it to that producer, sweetheart.

Tell him if he doesn't sign the contract, I'll break all his windows.

I really think you ought to cancel all those bank cards and credit cards at once, sir.

You didn't see or hear anything?

Newlyweds.

Her third husband, I'm told.

Hmm, and him?

Oh, never been married before.

Looks and money.

Worth waiting for, eh?

No.

[Cambridge] How long did it take you to discover this?

Oh.

Our Kit always liked older men.

Eloped with the first when she was just 17.

And him pushing 30.

Drunk himself to death before he was 35.

Fell into a river and drowned.

God bless him.

That's terrible.

She had him well-insured.

And number two?

The insurance man.

He advised her how to invest the money.

Doubled her assets, married her within the year.

Dropped dead on a squash court.

God bless.

Well, your sister's certainly been unfortunate.

He left her a small fortune.

In cash and kind.

And the new husband?

Rolling in it.

[everyone snickers] Any American TV series you care to name, he's written episodes.

He's here to do a deal with a big English producer.

So, you see me problem, Margaret?

What do I give to the little sister who has everything?

Matt, I think your idea is perfect.

Will you organize it?

Leave it to me.

Here's to Kit.

Third time lucky.

What do you make of it, Cambridge?

Member of staff, like you said, sir.

No, not the thief, the victim.

I mean, the loss of the wallet was merely inconvenient, but the loss of the briefcase was devastating.

I wonder what was in it?

I don't know.

The only copy of his latest script?

No, no, no, no, he said documents.

Irreplaceable documents.

Yet he couldn't spare two minutes to tell us what they were.

Hmm.

Well, perhaps he's more upset about the briefcase itself.

After all, he did say it was his father's.

-What, sentimental value?

-Mm-hmm.

No, I don't think he's the type, somehow.

And he wasn't just a bit upset, you know.

He was scared.

That's another thing I wonder about.

Well, we are here, sir, to investigate a series of thefts.

Hmm.

Look, if you find that briefcase, talk to me before you tell de Goris, all right?

[intercom buzzes] -[Receptionist] Hello?

-Byron de Goris.

I'll have a word with him, sir.

Henry, what are you doing here?

Same as you, dear.

Working.

Oh, Matt, meet my husband.

Matt Kelly.

Henry Crabbe.

Oh, very pleased to meet you, Mr. Crabbe.

Can't begin to tell you how much we're all looking forward to Wednesday.

What Wednesday?

Hmm.

Margaret.

Margaret!

How are you on champ, Henry?

[sighs] Margaret.

Potatoes mashed with young nettle tops.

I know.

Well, I'm sure Henderson has got a load of nettles cluttering up the edges of his fields.

I will not do it.

You could substitute spring onions if you... Henry, will you stop looking at me like that?

Matt Kelly has hired the entire restaurant for a whole day.

Not if I'm gonna be supervised in my own kitchen, he's not.

She is not going to supervise, she is not going to cook.

The bride will select a recipe from the grandmother's cookbook, and you will make the banquet for the wedding feast.

Here's the book, and here is Matt Kelly's check.

And that's just for the exclusive hire of the restaurant.

On top of that, you get to spend as much as you like on the best ingredients, the best wine.

Come on, Henry.

Don't tell me you're not the teeniest bit tempted.

If Matt Kelly's sister is gonna pass judgment on my cooking in my kitchen, then, no, I'm not.

Kit's not like that.

Well, how would you know?

You've never even met her.

No, but I know what she means to her brothers.

They adore her.

[sighs] Apparently, the grandmother was a cook in a big Anglo-Irish household and Kit used to visit there as a child, sit in the kitchen, and imagine all this fancy food was for her.

Well, I think this wedding feast is a really romantic gift, Henry.

I thought your chef's heart would be touched.

Oh, yeah.

"Beef braised with onions, carrots, and Guinness."

Do you know, I first tasted that in France when I was a boy.

Ragout à l'Irlandaise.

The chef prepared it in the 19th-century manner.

You see, you take prunes and stuff them with hazelnuts and put them in about half an hour before the meat's cooked.

Well, anything a French chef can do, you can do better.

Um, have you met Kit Kelly's husband?

No, why?

Oh, I was just wondering.

"Salmon.

The fish that ate from the tree of knowledge.

Whosoever shall eat the first slice will inherit that knowledge."

Hmm.

Thank you for organizing this so quickly, Mr. Chepstow.

It's the first good thing in a not-so-good day.

I appreciate it.

Not to worry, Mr. de Goris.

I can proceed with the photocopies you sent me from America until the police recover the original documents.

What if they don't?

The certificates can all be replaced if necessary.

Will that take long?

A week, 10 days for the birth certificate.

The American marriage certificate may take longer.

But this can be processed in 24 hours.

Great.

And, of course, I'll call you at the hotel as soon as it's cleared.

Now, I'll call you.

Oh, can you keep a secret, Mr. Chepstow?

I'm a solicitor, Mr. de Goris.

[chuckles] Right.

My wife doesn't know the real reason for this trip to England, and I want to surprise her.

Give her a belated wedding present.

I'd like to wait until everything is finalized before I tell her.

She's a very special lady.

So, I must have been about seven or eight, when she made the Dublin rock for a wedding.

It was this gorgeous concoction.

And my granny said if I touched it, she'd kill me.

So I said one day I would have a Dublin rock all of my own.

And she said, "That's only for the gentry."

If my granny could see me now.

"Butter, sugar, cream, egg whites, orange-flower water, brandy, and almonds."

And then you chill it overnight, and you break it into pieces.

I was dying to do that bit, and she wouldn't let me.

You'll let me, won't you, Henry?

-Well... -[Margaret clears throat] -[Kit chuckles] -Good morning, Margaret.

-Morning.

-Ah, hello, you must be Mrs. Crabbe.

I'm Kit, Matt's sister.

Isn't he a peach to have thought of this?

And isn't your husband a darling to have agreed?

Actually, do you know, Margaret arranged it all.

I'm sorry, madam.

We're completely booked up on Wednesday.

Yeah, Thursday's fine.

Table for four, 7:30.

Okay, bye.

Fanny O'Cradock still in the kitchen?

Seducing Gary and Henderson with the delights of her spiced tongue with cloves and parsley.

Hmm, and Henry.

Oh, he's gone out with Sergeant Cambridge.

Did he remember to order the wine before he went?

No, but the wine list-- It's all right, I'll do it.

Morning, sir.

Table for one?

No, I arranged to meet my wife here, Mrs. de Goris.

Kit.

Kit Kelly.

Oh, yes, sir.

She's in the kitchen.

Mrs. de Goris.

Hello, darling.

[laughs] Oh, right.

This is Margaret Crabbe, and this is Nicola.

Crabbe?

Isn't that the name of the policeman?

She's Inspector Crabbe's wife.

This is their restaurant.

Oh, small world.

Rural England.

You better believe it, Byron.

Sit down.

Listen to this.

Sergeant Cambridge put the names of all the Barstock Grange Hotel staff into her computer, and up his name came.

I mean, wouldn't you think a convicted thief would have the wit to change his name or at least not put the goods in his wardrobe?

She found my briefcase, where is it?

They're at the hotel now, checking.

I better get over there.

Oh, I wanted you to help me choose a menu.

You know anything you want is okay by me.

Mm, okay.

So it's fine by you if I go back into the kitchen and Henderson the dishy potato king, hmm?

Sounds fun.

Have a nice day, sweetheart, See you later.

-Mm.

-Nice to meet you, Nicola, Mrs. Crabbe.

Bye.

[laughs] Bye.

[sighs] Isn't he gorgeous?

Couldn't you just eat him?

Flash sort of name, though, isn't it?

Brian de Goris.

Byron.

It's after Lord Byron.

Lady Caroline Lamb said he was mad, bad and dangerous to know.

Fancied him rotten, did she?

All the women did.

Everything intact, sir?

Yes, thank you.

But the briefcase is more important than any of this.

What was in it?

Just, uh, mementos, family photographs, letters.

Nothing of any value to anyone but me.

Don't worry, sir, we'll find it.

This man always operates in the same way.

He keeps the cash and the credit cards for himself, but then sells everything else to a local dealer.

And you know who this accomplice is?

Not yet, but it shouldn't take us too long to find out which of his contacts has actually got your briefcase.

And, well, we'll be in touch with you as soon as we know for sure.

You can contact me at the restaurant when you find it.

I'm gonna be tied up there all day.

I'm supposed to prepare a wedding banquet.

Do you know, the bride has got looks and lots and lots of money and the groom has got a wallet full of overdrawn credit cards.

Sir, if he should find out you've checked his credit rating... No, no, no, I haven't.

But he has.

And all the little bits of plastic came bouncing back.

It's just not been your day.

Has it, chummy?

Byron de Goris made a phone call from the hotel shortly before the burglary occurred.

It's a local number.

Oh, Kit wanted to make some toffee for the Kelly kids.

Yellowman, here, try a bit.

Oh, no, no, thanks.

Oh, go on, go on, you'll love it.

No, I'm-- Henry... Never mind.

[door knocking] Mrs. de Goris.

Oh, I'll take those.

I wonder how much she knows about you.

[Margaret sighs] Yes, Byron de Goris, please.

I've got to go out.

I won't be long.

These are for Kit.

From her husband.

Whilst I'm gone, I may try and remember the last time you gave me flowers, dear.

When was the last time she bought me flowers?

That is the question.

-Lunch?

-Thank you.

What is it?

Dublin coddle.

Ask a silly question.

Hmm, this is nearly as good as my granny's.

Nearly?

10 out of 10 for taste, Gary.

It's just the consistency isn't quite right.

Oh.

Too much sauce perhaps.

What are they like?

No matter where you take them, they have to go shopping.

[door knocking] Come in.

Oh, Mrs. Crabbe, Kit's not here, she's at your restaurant.

I know.

I'm not very good at writing in anonymous hotel rooms.

You used to use a notebook and a red pen.

You don't remember me at all, do you?

Carnaby Street.

1963.

You, me... and your friend, Byron de Goris.

Mags.

Little Mags.

Margaret.

Byron was the only one who ever called me Mags.

Where is he?

Still in the States?

Does he know you're over here pretending to be him?

Do you still drink white wine?

I don't want a drink, James.

I want an explanation.

So we got married by special license, and we're no sooner married than he tells me he has to come here on this business trip.

So I said, "Not without me, boy."

If the English women look at you the same way American ones do, I'm going to be right there looking back.

Poor darling.

You should have seen his face when my family arrived at the airport.

Wasn't he expecting them?

I wasn't expecting them.

Isn't our Matt wild flying them all in like that?

More money than sense, as my mother's so fond of saying.

That old bat.

Do you know she's raging 'cause she can find no fault with Byron?

He's got looks and charm and money.

Nothing for her to criticize this time.

He's a wealthy man, your husband?

I would have married him if he'd been a pauper.

[both chuckle] Have you known him long?

Uh, what day of the week is it?

Uh, Tuesday.

Um, that's four weeks tomorrow.

[chuckles] Ho!

Talk about a whirlwind romance, eh?

Well, is there any other sort?

I'm sorry I didn't recognize you, Margaret.

Well, I recognized the name before I realized it was you.

Common old James Jackson.

You were a lot of things, James.

Common wasn't one of them.

I'm sorry if I treated you badly.

I'm not here to talk about the past.

I'm here to talk about now, I want to know about Byron.

He was a good man.

The best, most decent person I ever knew.

What?

The two of you were inseparable, what happened?

Have you told Kit about this?

[Margaret] No.

Your husband?

No, I wanted to discuss it with you first.

Can we keep this to ourselves for a few days until after the wedding party?

I want to tell Kit myself when we're alone again.

It's nothing the whole Kelly family needs to know about.

It's nothing anybody else needs to know about.

They never knew Byron.

I did.

Okay, see you tomorrow.

-Bye.

-Bye, Nicola.

Um, is Margaret back yet?

I haven't see her.

[Henry sighs] [telephone rings] Hello.

Well, there's a lot more here than was stolen from the Barstock Grange Hotel.

Might take a while to find the briefcase.

Yes, yes, I'll let you have it as soon as we do.

Right.

That number you wanted traced, it's a solicitor's office.

It's Chepstow's in the High Street.

A solicitor's?

A proper little Aladdin's cave, isn't it, eh?

Is this it?

He called me his soul mate, remember?

It was the year that rock n' roll became peace and love, and we went to the West Coast to see it for ourselves.

I loved San Francisco, he missed England.

He wanted to come home, but he stayed because of me.

I talked him into it.

"Give it a couple more months," I said.

"Just two more months, and then if you're still not happy, we'll come home, I promise."

Over 30 years ago, I promised to bring him home.

What happened to him?

I can't tell you what happened to Byron because I wasn't with him.

We were at a party on the beach.

He went back to our apartment building and he was alone when he took the stuff.

They told me he was smiling when he jumped off the roof.

Oh, my God.

The party was a celebration.

I had sold some poetry.

After the funeral, I got the magazine to put Byron's name on it.

He was my dearest friend.

But Kit is Mrs. de Goris, not Mrs. Jackson.

It's my legal name.

I changed it when I became an American citizen.

It was the name I'd become known by in the States, and it felt right, like I was keeping him alive.

He was a good man.

He deserved a better friend than me.

And me.

I wasn't very nice to him, was I?

[Margaret sighs] The thought when I looked at the photograph, how ashamed I felt, how carelessly I treated him.

I don't have a photograph.

Or you.

Could I hold on to this for a couple of days, get a copy made for old time's sake?

[telephone rings] Hello?

It's your husband.

Tell him I'm on my way.

[Kit] She's on her way.

Mm-hmm.

You said you didn't tell him.

I didn't.

I didn't, James.

Honestly.

Don't be daft, Kit.

I knew her a long, long time ago, that's all.

I may be daft, but I'm not deaf.

Now, she called you James, why?

So, why didn't you tell me?

You were too busy being Irish Chef of the Year.

Well, it was your idea.

Don't remind me.

You know, I knew there was something odd about his behavior, but, well, I suspected it was something else, you know.

Something to do with Kit's money perhaps, or the Kellys' business.

What's odd is that he's made himself into Byron and James.

It's like mixing oil and water.

I mean, they were great friends, but they were different in every way.

[Henry] Nice legs.

Shame about the silly smile on the face.

I was mad about him.

Which one?

Why didn't you tell me?

Well, we haven't exactly done much talking since we met, have we?

Would you ever have told me if Margaret Crabbe hadn't recognized you?

I always intended to tell you when we got to know each other better.

Sweetheart...

I'm sorry if I hurt you.

I wouldn't do that for the world.

I adore you, Kit, you know that.

I don't know what to call you.

Well, I've been called Byron for over 30 years.

James is someone you never knew.

She knew you.

You jealous?

No, I'm not.

Come here.

Go on, admit it.

You'd much rather be Mrs. Byron de Goris than plain old Mrs. Jackson.

God, you're a wicked man.

It was a warm summer.

And we used to sit outside on the pavement, drinking sweet German wine from screw-top bottles.

Yes?

I didn't say a word.

Good.

Byron de Goris was the only one of the whole lot who knew or even cared that I was so much younger than the rest of them.

He was really nice to me, a bit smitten, and I treated him very shabbily.

You know, pretended I fancied him just to get close to his best friend, James.

Who did you fancy when you were 15, Henry?

Oh.

Sandie Shaw.

I wrote her a fan letter once and got a signed photo from her agent.

Well, I was the youngest member of the James Jackson fan club.

I fancied him rotten.

All the girls did.

He was as charming then as he is now.

Until he got what he wanted and then he didn't want to know anymore.

Oh, not me, no.

[chuckles] Not for want of trying.

I was dying to go to the bed with James.

[chuckles] I told him.

And he laughed.

Well, maybe Kit's different.

Maybe he's met his match.

I hope she gives as good as she gets.

He treated women very badly.

You kept his photograph all these years.

No, not especially.

It was just among a lot of other old souvenirs.

[chuckles] It's long forgotten.

Have you still got Sandie Shaw's photograph?

No, I pinned it up on the bedroom wall, opposite a window, and it just faded in the light.

Well.

These things do.

This is nice.

Well, I can't remember the last time we had a talk together, just the two of us.

[door knocking] Come in.

Sergeant Cambridge is downstairs.

Thank you, Nicola.

Would you tell her I'll be right down?

-[Nicola] Okay.

-[door closes] Come on, Miss Marple.

I'd like your professional opinion on the contents of a certain mysterious briefcase.

Births, marriages, deaths.

It's a potted history of the de Goris family.

Plus this letter from Chepstow's, the solicitor's, confirming an appointment.

That's who he called from his hotel room, sir.

Ah, then rushed straight to after that burglary.

You know, he's not here to see a film producer at all.

He came here to see the solicitor.

Wesford Parish Magazine.

Byron's baptism gets half a page.

Oh, yeah.

"Byron, son of Sir Jeremy and Lady Eleanor de Goris.

Alderney House, Wesford."

His parents died when he was a child.

He was brought up by his grandfather.

We spent a weekend at Alderney House that summer.

James and Byron slept in the old nursery and I was in solitary splendor in the master bedroom.

Byron loved that house.

Right.

[clears throat] Return this to Mr. de Goris, Cambridge.

If you want to contact me, I'll be 'round at Chepstow's office.

Right, sir.

Well, what are we gonna do about this wedding party?

Well, Matt Kelly has hired the restaurant.

I think we ought to go on doing what we've been paid to do, unless he tells us otherwise.

I'm sorry, Inspector Crabbe, but I cannot discuss my client's business without his consent.

How long has he been your client?

The de Goris family has been represented by this firm for over 100 years.

Is it a large family?

No, Mr. de Goris is the last in his line.

But Inspector Crabbe-- It's an inheritance, isn't it?

As I've already said, I cannot discuss-- Mr. Chepstow, your client is not Byron de Goris.

His real name is James Jackson.

But his papers!

But his bank account.

He changed his name.

That in itself isn't a crime, but if he did so in order to claim a property that wasn't his to claim.

But it's not just Alderney House.

Byron's grandfather left him his entire estate.

I mean, he was a very wealthy man.

You didn't give him any of the money?

The will is going through probate, but the bank gave him a personal loan.

A fraction of what he was due to inherit in a couple of months' time.

How much did he borrow?

500,000 pounds.

It was wired to his American bank account this morning.

[telephone rings] Chepstow.

Just a minute, Mr. de Goris.

He wants an estate agent to value the property tomorrow morning.

Yes, of course, I'll send the keys 'round.

Mm, this is good.

You should market it.

Any fool can make toffee.

Ah, but only a great chef can make perfect Dublin rock.

You said you always wanted to do this.

What you want and what you get are two different things.

When ma said that, you always knew Christmas morning was going to be a disappointment.

Are you all right?

I've been better.

Ah, funny old world, isn't it?

You knew James and Byron, and I don't know either of them.

Hmm.

I keep saying to myself, "What's in a name?"

It's the man that counts, right?

But after he left this morning to meet his television producer, I thought to myself, "I don't know his name either.

Maybe he's two different people as well."

Nicola, have we got enough pint glasses for the Draught Guinness?

Hang on, I'll check.

Won't be long.

Where's he going?

I don't know.

-Do you have a car?

-Yeah.

It's Chitty Chitty Bang Bang parked out front.

-Can I borrow it?

-Sure.

Thanks.

Oh, is it automatic?

[Nicola hoots with laughter] If I wreck your gearbox, I'll buy you a new one, okay?

[gasps] Did she mean a new car?

Kit, come back inside.

Look, Byron didn't want me to come on this trip.

I want to find out why.

Then I'll come with you.

I'm sorry, I just didn't know how to tell you.

[Kit] Was he ever going to tell me?

[car engine roaring] Byron de Goris.

Upstairs.

I'll go this way.

Right.

Where is he?

Try the nursery at the top of the house.

Give them five minutes, eh?

Look at me.

Tell me why you needed this.

You're a successful writer.

You've got your own money, your own life.

I haven't sold a script in five years.

I've got enough money to last us both a lifetime.

That's not real money, Kit.

You don't know what real money is.

It's not a few thousand in the bank and shares in the Kelly business.

What you and your brothers own between you wouldn't even pay the death duties on the de Goris estate.

Houses.

Land.

Old money.

Real money.

20 million pounds after tax.

It's not yours.

Byron always said that everything he had was mine.

He was an only child.

The last in the line.

Now the state gets the lot.

Byron loved this house.

"Got to be there for Christmas," he said.

"Got to go home."

But Byron's dead now.

What about me?

If you'd got away with this, would you have stayed with me?

Why did you marry me, James?

I had to be married to inherit the estate.

Poor Kit.

Well, what are we gonna do with all this food?

I'm not very good at picking husbands, am I?

The first could have charmed the birds off the trees, but he hadn't a thought in his head or a penny to his name.

And the second had money and a brain, but he was-- He was the most boring man that I ever met in my life.

All right, I'll get it right next time, ma, just to annoy you.

I thought I'd cracked it this time.

I thought he had the best bits of the other two.

Forget him.

And forget about all that marriage carry-on.

It doesn't suit you.

I'm 30, ma, and I've no children yet.

You're a rich woman, free to have children any way you want.

Oh, if our dad could hear you now.

Oh, I loved having your father in my life.

But I could have done without him in my house.

Give me your mobile, Matt.

[cellphone beeping] Henry?

Kit.

Listen, would you ever get cracking on that Dublin rock?

♪ Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight ♪ ♪ With people here working by day and by night ♪ ♪ They don't sow potatoes, nor barley nor wheat ♪ ♪ But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street ♪ Here's to the next 15 years, Margaret.

I was 17 when Matt first announced we were breaking out into England.

And you said there'd be no luck in it.

First night in Liverpool, he met me.

Like I said, no luck.

Oh, you cheeky sod.

You should've married me, Rita, when you had the chance.

I was only joking, darling.

Hey, you.

Pour your mother another drink.

Good grub, eh, ma?

Not bad.

For an Englishman.

Chef says can he have a quick word?

♪ Don't be starting them fashions, now Mary Macree ♪ ♪ Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea ♪ It's beautiful.

And thank you.

And he would have left me anyway, Henry.

Uh, uh, no.

This is for Kit.

I think you should serve it.

God, I don't know if I'd have the nerve to cut it.

It's more for looking at than for eating.

Like him, really.

[people singing in background] Now, what are you all doing standing here?

Aren't you my guests?

Get back inside and join the family.

[people partying in background] This is the best chocolate cake Henry's ever made.

It's the mashed potato.

It keeps the mixture moist.

-[crowd cheers] -[crowd applauds] -[crowd cheers] -[crowd applauds] Margaret, you're supposed to sip the hot whiskey through the cold cream.

It's not whiskey, it's poteen.

Mmm.

-That's illegal, isn't it, Henry?

-Oh, I see.

Thinking of becoming a detective full-time, are we, Miss Marple?

No, no, I think I'll stick to the day job.

I mean, I was the one who knew he wasn't who he said he was, but you were the one who found out why.

Well, if you hadn't recognized him, I think he might just have got away with it.

He didn't recognize me.

Well, why should he?

It was a long time ago, and I'm no schoolgirl now.

No.

You are a very beautiful woman, Margaret.

I know.

Shame about the taste buds.

[theme music]