♪ Marching For the dear old country ♪ ♪ Marching away to war ♪ ♪ With the hearts they loved Behind them ♪ ♪ And the flag They loved before ♪ Look brave.

♪ Marching away to war ♪ Thank you, Captain, Mrs Ainsworth.

Can't I come to the station?

HE SIGHS I'm not that brave.

Oh, my darling Lizzie.

TRAIN WHISTLES BIRDS CHIRPING My egg was hard again, Mary.

Blame the chicken.

No.

Oh, no.

Yes.

Mm.

Dennis... ENGINE IDLING Must you?

On a Sunday?

Sorry, Uncle Leonard.

But she's playing up.

You can't go to church like that.

Oh, I'm not anyway.

This could be a long job.

MUSIC PLAYING - Mary!

- She won't hear you.

Can't even boil an egg!

She's all we can afford, you old misery.

You knew I couldn't cook when you married me.

And you knew I was old.

Look at the time!

Oh.

Morning, Miss Marple.

Good morning.

How did you manage that, Griselda?

He'll be early for once.

I shall tell you this evening, Jane.

And bring some of your damson gin over.

It might take the edge off Mary's cooking.

♪ The summer days Are come again ♪ ♪ Once more The glad earth yields ♪ ♪ And deepening shade Of summer woods ♪ ♪ And glow of summer air ♪ ♪ And winging thoughts And happy moods ♪ ♪ Of love and joy and prayer ♪ But every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust and enticed.

Then, when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin... and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.

Here endeth the lesson.

♪ That old master painter From the far-away hills ♪ ♪ Painted the violets And the daffodils ♪ ♪ He put the purple In the twilight haze ♪ ♪ Then did a rainbow For the rainy days... ♪ HE SIGHS Stop wriggling, Lettice!

- It's Letteece.

- Everyone calls you Lettice.

You're not everyone, Lawrence.

Behave.

Don't forget where you are.

Steady.

You should be on a calendar.

SHE CHUCKLES We could hang it in your father's study.

LETTICE GIGGLES LETTICE: Oh, Lawrence!

Get an eyeful, creeping around?

She's in her bathing suit.

Mr Redding's an artist.

It's like looking at a bowl of cherries for him.

Until she takes it off.

You've got an oily nose.

LEONARD: Last Sunday's collection in aid of the Church of England Missionary Society a total of 18 shillings and 11 pence.

Well done, everybody.

WHISPERING: That can't be right.

- What?

The society benefits enormously from the efforts we make...

I put in a pound myself.

I have here a letter of thanks from the secretary.

Colonel... SHOUTS: Yes, Marjorie?

WHISPERING: There's something wrong... - YELLS: What?

MAN: Shh!

- What?

- Shh.

MARPLE: You are quite sure?

I always put a pound note into the box on the anniversary of Bruce's passing.

I know, but perhaps this time... Come on, Miss Marple!

If Marjorie says she put a pound in, then she did, so where's it gone?

I thought you'd be straining at the leash to sniff out the culprit.

You do have a reputation to maintain.

MARPLE: My reputation, Colonel Protheroe, if I have one, how very kind of you to suggest I do, is neither here nor there.

I merely wonder if it's a little early to talk of culprits.

- Nonsense!

- Lucius.

Anne, don't paw me.

Now, look, I'm a church warden, and I was in intelligence.

I know when something smells fishy.

It could be the tip of the iceberg.

Vicar!

Jane, shall we try the Toby Jug tomorrow just for a change?

Good idea.

Where's Lettice this morning?

- Mr Redding's painting her.

- On a Sunday?

- Mm-hm.

- You don't think...

He does have a way with him, but she's just a girl.

I'd plump for an older candidate if there is somebody.

Don't forget, ladies, tea and scandal tomorrow at four thirty.

And I've invited Mrs Lester.

- Mm.

GRISELDA: I'm coming!

Perhaps we'll find out a little more about her.

HARTNELL: Something would be a start.

Fancy staying at the Blue Boar.

- Not very homely for her.

Very well-stocked, if you take my meaning.

- Oh?

- Tipsy at the jumble sale.

Ooh.

Why the dear vicar had to choose such a shallow wife and at his age too...

I expect to see a full set of parish accounts or I'm going to take this matter further.

Yes?

Is that quite clear?

- Yes.

Tuesday.

Vicarage, six fifteen sharp.

SHE LAUGHS MRS LESTER: I know just what you mean.

Colonel, any news of your architectural sleuths?

Yes, Dr Haydock.

They arrived last night.

They'll be taking photographs, making drawings, God knows what.

Steal...

HE CHUCKLES One of the perils of owning an important house like Old Hall.

Good day, Doctor.

What a dreadful, dreadful man.

- I'll walk, Daddy.

- No.

Get in.

ANNE: How's the portrait coming along?

LETTICE: Perfectly well, thank you, Anne.

Lettice, I thought he was painting you in that pretty blue dress of yours.

Yes, but today he was just doing my hands, so I didn't bother to wear it.

What have you got in there?

Nothing.

Let me see.

Come on.

It's more artistic.

There's art and there's smut!

How dare he?

And how dare you?

ANNE: Shh.

Shh.

Don't shout, for goodness' sake.

I'll fight my own battles.

Thank you, Anne.

SHE SIGHS I was thinking of our guests.

Uh...

DOOR OPENS Good morning, Professor.

Do you have everything you need?

Thank you, yes.

Your so charming daughter was most helpful.

Step-daughter.

WOMAN SIGHS Good morning.

ANNE: Good morning, Mademoiselle.

Luncheon will be served at half past twelve.

My husband's very keen to hear about your research.

We are flattered, aren't we, Grandfather?

Not as much as he is.

Permitting that sort of behaviour in your garden, Vicar?

I... No, no.

I mean it's utterly unacceptable.

Now, Mr Redding's telephone number, please.

Isn't it gorgeous?

Nothing quite so beautiful as an English summer's evening.

For our hostess?

How lovely!

Well, not as lovely as that stuff, I hear.

SHE CHUCKLES Shall we?

Ah... Bless this food to our use and us to thy loving and faithful service nourished by the fruit of your earth and by the work of human hands.

May we render true obedience, O Lord, and bend ourselves to thy will.

And make us ever needful of the minds of others.

HE SNORTS RONALD: Er, ever mindful of the needs of others.

Amen.

ALL: Amen.

Well, I can only apologise.

Oh, the colonel's always looking for an excuse to criticise Lettice.

So I hope you're not painting Griselda in a bathing suit?

Miss Marple, that's disgusting.

- Thank you.

LAWRENCE: Certainly not.

But you must see it soon, Mr Clement.

It's at that very interesting stage.

- Like Dennis?

- Ha-ha.

Pop over tomorrow, around teatime.

I will.

- What is this, Mary?

- Soup.

Does it have a name?

"Bits and bobs and odds and sods "and the meat ration's been cut again" soup.

CUTLERY CLATTERS Sorry.

Sorry.

You're a bag of nerves this evening, Mr Hawes.

Not just tonight.

May I have a glass of water?

MARY: Anyone else?

DENNIS: No, thank you.

GRISELDA GIGGLES If it wasn't for my medicine, you see... Don't worry, you can't catch nerves.

It's a wretched affliction I bear with God's grace.

Talking of afflictions, Ronnie, Colonel Protheroe on Tuesday.

Can you get the parish accounts into some sort of order?

I'll try.

I could strangle Protheroe sometimes.

May God forgive me.

- I'd stab him.

I'd poison him.

- I'd shoot him.

- Use my gun.

DENNIS: He's rotten to Lettice.

- Aw!

Just because he bought Old Hall, he thinks he's the local squire or something.

You can't treat people like that now.

LAWRENCE: You're quite right.

And how would you do it, Miss Marple?

I never speak lightly of murder, Mr Redding.

I hate to tempt fate.

Surely not in this lovely place?

We're all very ordinary in St Mary Mead, but ordinary people sometimes do the most astonishing things.

DENNIS: Do you really have a pistol?

Somewhere.

It's German.

I liberated it.

- Were you wonderfully brave?

Very well-trained but scared to death.

I'll clear in five minutes.

Fish and turnip stew... mostly turnip.

Oh, bring the apricot chutney, will you?

TELEPHONE RINGS St Mary Mead vicarage.

GRISELDA LAUGHS No, Frankie, I can't.

But you'll have your mum there.

Who's the magistrate?

SHE TUTS That'll be a two-quid fine at least.

How are we ever going to save up to get a...

I am very sorry, but you have mistook a wrong number.

- I forbid you to see him again!

- He was only painting me.

I wish he were doing something else, the stupid fuss you're making.

- Don't be common!

- Don't be horrid, then.

You've already driven the Dufosses to bed because of your foul mood.

- Well, you can go too!

Gladly.

PROTHEROE SIGHS - Sit down.

We haven't finished.

- Good night, Lucius.

♪ The night Is like a lovely tune ♪ ♪ Beware my foolish heart ♪ ♪ How white The ever-constant moon ♪ ♪ Take care, my foolish heart ♪ ♪ There's a line between love And fascination ♪ ♪ That's hard to see ♪ ♪ On an evening such as this ♪ ♪ For they both give ♪ ♪ The very same sensation ♪ ♪ When you're lost In the magic of a kiss ♪ ♪ Her lips Are much too close to mine ♪ ♪ Beware, my foolish heart ♪ ♪ But should Our eager lips combine... ♪ There are those who take a romantic view of poaching, Tarrant, I do not.

This time, you will go to prison.

Sir, you can't!

Sir!

- All right, Mum.

- Madam, sit down.

Twenty-eight days.

I'll lose me job, you old bastard!

Twenty nine.

TELEPHONE RINGS St Mary Mead vicarage.

It's not fair!

- Mary?

- I'm going out!

DOOR SLAMS It's not just the difference in our ages, Jane.

The vicar and his wife are perfectly happy.

They'd be happier with a child is what I think.

It would be their own.

Lettice was two when her mother died.

And by the time I married Lucius... Well, she was too old to think of me as anything other than the wicked stepmother.

I get on her nerves, and...

..I'm afraid she gets on mine.

That makes him angry... even angrier than normal.

Might you have a child of your own one day?

No.

That... side of things has... ..dwindled rather.

Completely.

I need tenderness, Jane, and that's just not in his nature.

Thank you.

Sorry.

Oh, we all have to get things off our chest occasionally.

Still, I married him for a kind of certainty.

We all wanted certainty after the war, didn't we?

I must settle for what I've got.

- Make do and mend?

- Make do.

And at least there once was someone tender, but he didn't come back from the fighting.

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS Jane, I knew you'd come.

- I had to.

- Oh, my darling.

ANNE: 'There's our lift.'

We'd better not keep him waiting.

HORN BLARES Bloody fool!

- Help me!

- Are you hurt?

No.

Oh!

Yes.

- I caught her ankle.

- Oh...

I'm so terribly sorry.

It wasn't your fault.

It has to support the sprain.

I have a stick in the car.

You might be able to hobble by tomorrow.

I don't want to be a hobbler, Dr Haydock.

Shall I make some tea?

GRISELDA LAUGHING Apparently, that won't be necessary.

It seems tea and scandal are coming to us.

WOOD CREAKING Oh...

I am lost.

The small drawing room with the Flemish tapestry and the magnificent ceiling?

Two down on the other side.

That's my father's study.

Oh.

DENNIS: Heard me, then?

- How could I not, Dennis?

- Want to go for a ride?

- On that thing?

- Last year, we... - I was 16 and it was fun.

Well, I haven't seen Lawrence Redding in a sports car.

He would if he had the money, and he'd look so wonderfully... mature.

SHE GIGGLES - See you tomorrow for tennis?

- Oh, yes, tennis with Dennis.

SHE GIGGLES LAWRENCE: How did he get on?

A month inside.

Protheroe.

Mr Redding, you should shut this away.

Probably.

Here's one for you next time you're in the Blue Boar.

Oh.

You sure you don't want me to start locking up when I go?

This is the heart of England, Mrs T. Besides, lock up the house and you lock out love.

MRS LESTER CACKLES Oh, my lord!

In her bathing suit?

The colonel won't have liked that from what I've seen.

Looks like he's got a poker up his bum.

At least one.

WOMAN GIGGLES Will you be staying long in St Mary Mead, Mrs Lester?

Sylvia, please.

I shall have to see.

- We're not too quiet for you?

Like a millpond, but a change is as good as a rest.

A change... from what... exactly?

My helter-skelter life, Miss Hartnell.

If you'll excuse me, I must see how Griselda's portrait is coming along.

I do hope you like it, darling.

- Goodbye.

- Bye.

- Good afternoon, Vicar.

- Goodbye.

And what are you wearing for Mr Redding?

Just my dignity, Mrs Price-Ridley... and a pink feather boa.

MRS LESTER GIGGLING Really, Griselda.

I think I'll just refresh the pot.

Now, who'd like a stiffener in their Darjeeling?

SHE GIGGLES WOMAN MOANING Oh... SHE GASPS Vicar... look...

I'd forgotten you were coming.

Is he doing Mrs Protheroe too?

Quite a busy boy with his brush.

She offered to come to London, but, well, I came here to get away from it, and, well, Anne wouldn't be suited to the madness of my life there, and I wouldn't want her to be.

I'm tired of it.

I'm tired of being wild.

You're quite wild enough for us.

I just feel that I've let you all down.

I've been happier in St Mary Mead than I've ever been in my life.

Even my work's better, I think.

It's certainly less wild.

- But you must end it.

I can't.

Then you should consider leaving.

Think of her reputation.

You are the only one who knows.

Yet.

You only have to sneeze in this village for someone... Miss Bourne's here about next week's flowers.

LEONARD SIGHS LEONARD: Oh, she's late.

That's not like her.

Please, please think about what I've said.

TELEPHONE RINGS MAID: Old Hall.

Good evening.

Yes, he is.

Who shall I say?

I'll have to give a name, madam.

PROTHEROE: What do you want, Sylvia?

To tell you something and see that stiff upper lip wobble as if you were facing a firing squad.

Last cigarette?

Blindfold?

Bang.

I'll manage the stairs by tomorrow.

GRISELDA: Dressing gown?

Yes, please.

How was the portrait?

Hmm?

Oh.

A brief viewing?

Ah.

You saw.

MISS MARPLE: I'm afraid we all did.

Griselda was horrified when I told her.

If Protheroe finds out... Now, I know he's a brute, but Anne married him, and I believe in the sanctity of marriage.

GRISELDA HUMMING A TUNE I'm so lucky.

She could have had anyone.

She chose you.

It's been the best three years of my life.

Here we are, hairbrush, mirror, and book.

Oh!

Is it a good read?

Betcha life it is, padre.

HE LAUGHS Pow!

Anything else from the dressing table?

No.

Beautiful.

A perfect example for this period.

Indeed.

When are you going to publish?

Autumn is the next edition of our little journal.

It will be all English country houses.

I will send you a copy from Paris.

I'll make a note of it.

How is France now?

France?

Ah, well, what do you say?

We are getting on our feet.

How was your war?

Bad things happened.

And yours, Colonel?

Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss my service.

- Lucius... - Hmm?

Ah.

Good day to you.

I'll be back on the five thirty.

I have a meeting with Mrs Ross-Harkins after court.

ANNE: Don't forget the vicarage at quarter past six.

LEONARD: Aren't there sales in Melchester?

London is London.

Well, don't buy too much.

SHE SNORTS There won't be too much!

Dennis is taking me.

- What?

- Only to the station.

- Oh.

- Bye.

- Bye.

BRAKES SQUEALING - Oh, look at this scratch!

- Well, what about my wheel?

You weren't looking, you fool!

Mind on other things, I dare say, like those accounts.

- What do you mean?

- Well, we'll see what I mean.

Just make sure the vicar has them for six fifteen.

It does have brakes, you know, this car.

Good God, woman!

Thank you.

Ah, Mrs Clement.

- Colonel.

PROTHEROE: Melchester?

London.

I trust your garden shed will shortly be restored to its proper purpose.

It has never had an improper purpose.

Clearly our standards are different.

Clearly, I'm glad to say.

I beg your pardon?

Why are you so dreadful to Len?

He's a good man who tries to set an example of Christian charity.

Perhaps charity can begin too close to home.

Return to Melchester, please.

HARTNELL: Mr Redding ran after the vicar and Mrs Protheroe had her shoes off and I'm sure you could see her petticoat.

When I went to pay my paper this morning, Florrie Ranby said she wasn't at all surprised, and, of course, Miss Marple knew it was someone older.

The colonel read a most apt lesson on Sunday then, had he but known it: "When lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin."

I have to put this right.

DENNIS: My parents want me to go to Kenya, help them manage the farm.

You could try for university next year.

Well, I would if I had something else to stay for.

Dennis... Apart from anything... well, you know Daddy, money or prospects.

- Nought out of two.

But you mean if it wasn't for him... No.

Well, who knows?

Can't we just be friends?

You can forget about Lawrence.

Uncle Len saw him and your stepmother, and he wasn't painting her.

HE GROANS - Shall I be mother?

- Thank you.

I do love her, you know.

It's not just about...

Sex?

I keep thinking about what the vicar said about people knowing, and I got a very strange look this morning in the newsagent's from Mrs Whale.

Well, she's got wind of things.

The only reason Mr Goldworthy knew about his wife and the GI was when he heard Mrs Whale mention the nylon stockings and the chewing gum.

I'll have to leave here now, for Anne's sake.

That's very brave.

Yes, well, I'll soon be over it.

You won't.

Not for a long while.

Nothing gets past you, Miss Marple, does it?

Hardly ever, young man.

I'll tell the vicar now.

He won't be back from his calls yet.

Nor will he.

There is something I could do for you, Miss Marple, if you'd like.

Mr Redding in the study.

It's the right decision.

Have you told her?

- I need to find the words.

- You will.

Well, you're very trusting.

I'm not that sure of myself.

I'll clear out the shed.

Thank you for letting me set up in there.

That was Griselda.

I never did finish her painting.

You're a very lucky man.

Look after her for me, won't you?

Anne, I mean.

LOCK CLICKS Ah, Mary, old Mr Abbott over at Lower Farm, his neighbour telephoned to say he's very poorly again, so I won't be back by six fifteen.

Apologise to Colonel Protheroe and ask him to wait for me.

I'll be as nice as I can.

ANNE: I can still see it now... ..his first day in the village.

'It was one of those moments 'when you know that nothing will ever be the same again.'

He reminded me of what might have been... ..in the days when I still hoped for happiness.

There can be happiness in acceptance, you know, of what can't change.

Can there?

Thank you, Jane.

What for?

For not judging me.

BELL RINGS - He'll be late.

- It's all right, I'll wait.

- You'll have to, won't you?

Ah.

Oh.

There's a sweet little crested wren that likes this side of the woods.

Did Lawrence mention the future at all?

TELEPHONE RINGS I'll go.

I'll go.

St Mary Mead 235.

It was for me.

- For you?

- I'm... wanted at the vicarage.

Sorry.

BIRD SINGS CHURCH BELL TOLLS GUNSHOT Bonsoir, Monsieur le Professeur.

Ah, bonsoir, Madame.

A beautiful evening for walking, no?

If only I could.

Oh.

Goodbye, Mr Redding.

Bye, Anne.

DUFOSSE: Bonsoir, Madame.

ANNE: If you're going back now, may I join you?

DUFOSSE: Yes.

Thank you.

A large one.

I've had a hell of a day.

HE CLEARS THROAT DOORBELL RINGS LAWRENCE: Good evening, Mary.

Wait in the study with the colonel.

He's here?

MARY: He is.

HAWES: Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths.

Guide me in your truth and teach me.

Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths.

Guide me in your truth and teach me.

What must I do?

What must I do?

Did you want to see me again?

Mr Redding?

- How's Mr Abbott?

- Convalescing in Bournemouth.

Someone's idea of a joke.

No, no.

No.

POLICE CAR ALARM BELLS RINGING Detective Inspector Slack.

Leonard Clement.

I'm the vicar.

The collar's a clue.

Is the doctor here?

- Yes.

Len, what's going on?

Half an hour, of I had to guess.

It's only no more than 30 minutes before my examination.

Which was when?

Well, the vicar found him at just gone quarter to seven.

I'm only down the road... Say I got here at ten to.

Almost spot on.

Time of death about six twenty, then.

Better than almost.

Give the man a coconut.

Huh.

Dear Vicar, I'm afraid I cannot wait for you any longer, but must... That's it.

- Pistol?

Yes.

Are these always open?

Usually, in this weather.

So, the vicar's called away with a bogus message, murderer comes in through the garden.

Victim writing a note with back turned.

That's how and when.

Just why and who?

The lady in the cottage with a view of the back here... - Miss Marple?

- I need to interview her.

Would you tag along?

These old maids tend to get nervous.

If you're not quite sure of something, I'll wait until you have a little think.

Did you see anyone enter the vicarage around twenty past six?

Yes.

Mrs Protheroe.

Is that when he was killed?

It looks like it.

How's your hearing?

It's excellent.

So you would have heard a gun fired from the vicarage?

It's hard to say.

I did hear a shot about six thirty in the woods, I thought, which is not unusual.

but whether one could tell the difference... What about this artist Mr Redding?

Well, he looked terribly shocked.

I assumed he'd discovered the body.

Of course, he and the colonel...

He'd been painting Lettice... in a bathing suit.

Oh.

Avant-garde.

Is that the term?

I don't believe it.

What?

At the vicarage?

OFFICER: Yes, ma'am.

- Anne?

Lucius is dead.

Is it really true, Mr Hawes?

I heard it at the station.

- Yes.

I'm on my way to the vicarage.

- Was there much blood?

- How would I know that?

No.

Do you think it was a crime of passion?

After all, Mrs Protheroe and Mr Redding... Fornication always has consequences, but I don't think we should jump to conclusions.

The colonel was not much liked by anyone, was he?

No.

I'm afraid not.

Of course, his appointment with the vicar was hardly a secret.

Are there any secrets in St Mary Mead?

Lots.

Yet.

I hope.

HARTNELL GIGGLES I want to talk to someone.

- When was this?

- Didn't Mary hear anything?

Her wireless was turned up full blast as usual.

SLACK: No.

Wait till I get there.

Oh, she did hear the colonel sneeze very loudly.

Who's speaking to him?

I'll be right there.

That's how, when, and who.

Now for why.

Lawrence Redding just walked into the station and confessed, and he's brought the murder weapon.

Good night.

TELEPHONE RINGS Old Hall.

WOMAN: It is terrible.

We will leave on the afternoon train, of course.

Has the police an idea of who could do this thing?

I have.

It's the police, madam.

Excuse me.

No, Inspector, he can't.

He...

I can't... MISS MARPLE: Why does Inspector Slack think the colonel was shot at twenty past six?

He'd started writing a note to the vicar saying he couldn't wait.

He put the time on it.

- Had he?

And the clock stopped at just gone six twenty.

He knocked it off the desk when he took the bullet.

Oh, dear.

I'm afraid I must put a cat amongst the inspector's pigeons.

He was going on and on about his daughter, which was just her silly little crush, so I told him it was his wife he had to worry about just to shut him up.

Then he really started.

I thought about what I was leaving her to... ..and I shot him.

CAR DOOR CLOSES Yoo-hoo!

The Chief Constable sends his regards.

Isn't that lovely?

I have been of assistance to him from time to time.

He said.

MARPLE: It's the clock.

I happen to know Mrs Clement put it a quarter of an hour fast on Sunday to improve the vicar's punctuality.

Well, wonderful.

Did it work?

- Yes.

- I'm glad to hear it.

So, either it was really five past six when it stopped, before the colonel even arrived for his appointment, or the murderer moved the hands back to match the time on the note.

It still fits, the artistic touch.

But Mr Redding was in the lane at twenty past six.

I saw him.

You may well have done, Miss Marple, but he killed the colonel at six forty-five.

Mary let him in.

The vicar saw him leave.

- Six forty-five?

- But I only examined at ten to.

- And told me that he'd died within the last 30 minutes.

- At the most, I said.

Six twenty or a little before, yes.

Six thirty... six forty at a pinch, but if Redding says he shot him at six forty-five, he's lying.

And doctors are never wrong?

I've got a confession.

And if the bullet that killed the colonel doesn't match Redding's gun, I'll eat my handcuffs.

Sometimes, the simple explanation is the right one.

Last night's wasn't.

I'll have someone see you out.

If he was shot at quarter to seven, why had he stopped in the middle of a sentence at twenty past six?

Anne...

I have to telephone the police.

I'd like someone with me.

- Oh.

- I killed him.

- What time?

Miss Marple saw me go in at about twenty past six.

I just...

I just hated him so much, I shot him.

With?

His old service revolver.

He always kept it loaded, and I took it.

Anne, you didn't have a gun.

It was in my bag.

You didn't have a bag.

There was nowhere else it could have been, not in that dress.

TELEPHONE RINGS St Mary Mead 23...

Yes, speaking.

Is that definite?

Right.

I don't like my time wasted, Mrs Protheroe.

The bullet that killed your husband was fired from Mr Redding's gun.

But he did it for me.

SLACK: He didn't do it for anyone.

I released him half an hour ago.

He just happened to be carrying his gun, which I don't believe, and more important, and something that you didn't think of, if the colonel was shot at quarter to seven, why did he stop the note like that at six twenty?

- Oh, yes.

- Hm-hm.

DOORBELL RINGS Er... SHE SNIFFLES - But if it was his gun...

SLACK: We'll find out.

He thinks I'm arresting you for murder.

- Anne!

- Lawrence!

Sealed with a loving kiss?

It's to my Frank.

Is he allowed to receive letters when he's not breaking rocks?

He ain't doing hard labour.

Who would have thought it, though?

Mr Redding.

Such a nice young man.

Mm.

Nice enough to keep a gun in the house?

I blame that Mrs Protheroe.

The way she swans around.

You'd think she was in a magazine, the look of her.

She put Mr Redding up to it if you ask me.

HAWES: Excuse me.

My football pools.

You never know.

I only just missed out on £1,000 last week.

Money is the root of all evil.

I'd give it space in me garden.

Bye.

Oh, I'd better...

I don't want to speak out of turn, especially if it wasn't anything.

The police have released Lawrence.

Mr Redding.

- Have they?

Then, I wonder...

This must be so unsettling for you.

I can't bear it.

I was on my way to the church, Mrs Clement.

Shall we pray together?

Um...

I need to find Mr Charlesworth before he closes for lunch.

I need some of those... Oh, whatever you call them!

Good and sharp.

Mrs Protheroe... was only out of my sight for 30 seconds at most, then she went into the shed.

Mr Redding joined her from the lane.

He told me.

He was saying goodbye to her, leaving the village.

She must have been terribly upset.

They stayed there for ten minutes or so.

The church clock struck the half hour.

They came out again, meeting Monsieur Dufosse, who appeared from the footpath to Old Hall.

Then his granddaughter arrived.

- Dufosse?

- Mm.

Guests of the Protheroes.

- You don't keep it shut away?

- Yes, I know I should.

Mrs Tarrant who mucks me out once a week is always telling me off about that, and I never lock up during the day.

Did you recognise...

When was the last time that you saw the gun before it turned up in the study?

Um, the day before yesterday.

Monday.

Did you recognise the voice... Wouldn't you prefer to go back and rest your ankle, Miss Marple?

No, thank you.

Did you recognise the voice on the telephone?

Um, no.

It just said to come straight over to the vicarage if I didn't want Lucius to find out about us.

- A man or woman?

- A woman.

I think.

Though, it did sound faint, as if someone was holding the receiver away from them.

- So it could have been a man.

- Well spotted, Vicar.

Who knew you were at Miss Marple's?

ANNE: No-one.

Someone must have seen me arrive.

Er... watching me.

My husband's dead.

I... ANNE BREATHES HEAVILY So, you came through the garden and up to the French windows, then what happened?

Yes, they were open, but I didn't hear any voices.

Um, I...

I looked in and no-one was here, so I went up to the shed to see if I could find Lawrence.

No-one here?

That's impossible.

Did you come right in?

No.

I just... popped my head in.

Ah.

It's the biggest aspidistra in the world.

If the colonel was here at the desk, you wouldn't have seen him alive or dead.

Sit down.

SLACK: A drink at the Blue Boar, then you returned to see the vicar again about your situation, and then what?

The authorised version this time.

I came in.

He was dead.

I saw my gun.

I thought that Anne had finally had enough, so I picked it up, and I left.

And you confessed to protect her.

And you returned the favour because you thought he'd done it.

Very "love's young dream".

I bet you two are down the Odeon every Friday.

Tell your guests I need to speak to them and don't think about leaving this village until I say so.

Go.

Um... sorry.

Er, excuse me.

You don't like Mr Clement, do you?

Nothing personal.

Vicars in general remind me of marriage.

- Ah... of course.

- Of course what?

Miss Hartnell's cousin's maid is walking out with a butcher's boy from Melchester who delivers to your mother-in-law.

Mrs Slack has been staying with her for a... little holiday, I gather.

A little two-month six-day holiday, so far.

- Oh, dear.

- Hmm.

Also, I've only got Mr Clement's word about the bogus call.

Surely, you don't suspect him?

- Erm... - May I?

Please.

Hmm.

"Six twenty.

"I'm afraid I cannot wait for you any longer."

The...

The colonel was... not the most patient of men, but the vicar would only have been five minutes late at twenty past six.

And Mary warned him that he wouldn't be on time when she showed him in.

Hmm.

Six twenty.

The ink is... don't you think... ..blue-black, rather than blue?

Yes, and the writing's smaller.

- Mm.

- Thank you, Miss Marple.

That means he could have been shot after six twenty, and then the murderer just put that onto the note and then altered the clock.

To the time when Mrs Protheroe came here in answer to her anonymous telephone call.

And Mr Redding's gun as the murder weapon.

Ah... SHE SNAPS HER FINGERS I think they were being, um... ..set up as pasties.

Patsies... it is.

Mm.

Thank you, Inspector.

DOOR OPENS Sorry.

Sorry, I'll come back.

I was looking for some... You're exactly where he was killed, aren't you?

How horrible.

Do you know who did it?

Not yet, no. "

'Vengeance is mine.

I will repay,' saith the Lord."

Well, someone beat the Lord to it.

HE CHUCKLES I need some water.

For my medicine.

We're supposing he was killed at six thirty?

Now that would tie in with the shot that you heard.

If it was from here.

Now, you're quite sure the only person you saw come in was Mrs Protheroe at six twenty?

Through the garden, certainly, but I can't actually see the French windows from my cottage and the woods come right up on this side.

It would be a scramble, but if one was determined or if one came in through the hall.

The colonel was deaf, so they could creep up behind him.

The hall?

No, no, cos Mary would have let them in the front door.

Hasn't she told you it's often left open?

SLACK: Mary!

Is this wise?

You're not exactly green-fingered.

Oh, don't fuss, darling!

Trust me.

And pass those scissor-y things, would you?

Len?

Sorry.

Thank you.

Ooh!

- Oh!

- Sorry to startle you, Lettice.

You have my deepest sympathy.

- Oh.

Yes.

Mm.

Do you know you've got some paint on you?

That's been there ages.

I must have it cleaned.

You haven't seen a yellow beret?

MARPLE: No.

LETTICE: I'm sure I left it in here last week when I came to see Dennis.

MARPLE: I'm sorry.

DENNIS: You?

Gardening?

Well, I have to do something.

What did you bring back yesterday?

Hmm?

From London.

Oh, yes, London.

I couldn't find a thing I wanted.

Not like you.

Bye.

- Bye.

I had a man-to-man word with the photographer.

He said he'd send it... - Shh!

Let me just look at you.

WHISTLE BLOWS GUARD SHOUTING He'll start clearing it out tomorrow.

GRISELDA: It's a shame.

He was on his way to getting me.

Don't you think?

VOICE BREAKING: Was he?

Oh, you silly man!

Yes, he's charming, yes, he's like a breath of fresh air in the village, yes, I was flattered, but no.

You are my husband, Len.

I would never deceive you.

Unless it was for the best.

There was a single bullet wound to the back of the head, which I concluded was the cause of death.

Did you form an estimate of the time of death, Dr Haydock?

Between six twenty or thereabouts and six forty at the latest.

Thank you.

MRS LESTER BURPS I showed him in at six fifteen and then went back to the kitchen.

He wasn't half looking pleased with himself, though, like the cat that got the cream.

Then I heard him give a blooming great sneeze five minutes after, and the next time I see him, he was dead.

Very well, Miss Hill.

Step down.

Did you know the colonel sent her young man to prison?

Frank Tarrant.

CORONER: Lastly, Mrs Protheroe, can you think of anyone who might have wished your husband harm?

ANNE: No.

No-one at all, I'm afraid.

CORONER: Thank you.

ANNE: Although... CORONER: Yes?

On Monday in Melchester High Street, he was nearly hit by a motorcycle.

CORONER: Are you suggesting this was deliberate?

It didn't seem so at the time.

I just...

I just thought I should mention it.

I find that the deceased, Colonel Lucius Alexander Protheroe, was murdered by a person or persons unknown.

Did you wonder about the motorbike?

It was just going too fast I thought.

He did come very close, though.

He or she.

One couldn't tell.

By the way, when the colonel stayed late in Melchester on Tuesday afternoon, what was he doing?

Uh, meeting Mrs Ross-Harkins, I think.

Hermione?

The bishop's wife, and his fellow magistrate of course.

Inspector, please find out who did this.

If someone tried to make it look as if... Well, they must hate Lawrence and me very much, and, um... ..well, I'm scared.

Wait.

MISS MARPLE GASPS Oh.

This was outside the French windows.

No-one at the vicarage smokes.

- Dennis sneaking a crafty one?

- Sniff.

French.

Young men on leave a long time ago, they'd bring them back from France.

When Monsieur Dufosse appeared on the footpath, I wonder if he'd only just turned into it from the woods.

Look, it's easy to imagine all kinds of things after the event, but the simple fact is... - Murder is never simple.

We would be foolish, stupid, to ignore any possibility.

"We"?

Did I say that?

So sorry.

I don't know whether to buy her a box of chocs or kick away her stick.

I'd prefer the chocolates.

How marvellous that you're not in black.

It's so dreary.

- Should I know you?

- I want you to.

- Who are you?

- Ah.

"Who is Sylvia?

"What is she?"

Let's have a little chat.

I made a walk along the footpath.

It is very beautiful.

Did you go into the woods, Mr Dufosse?

No.

Footpath only.

When do you go back to France?

WOMAN: We have missed the good connection now.

Tomorrow by the first train.

I might need to get in touch with you.

What's this magazine of yours called?

You'll have to spell it.

And the bishop and his wife get back tomorrow?

Would you be so kind as to ask Hermione to telephone me as soon as they get back to Melchester?

Jane Marple.

It might, yes.

Very important indeed.

Anne gets the hall.

DENNIS: But you'll have enough to set up on your own.

I'll help you look for somewhere.

- He's only been dead two days.

- So?

You hated him.

Whoever killed him did you a favour.

- Dennis!

- It's true.

I'm going in.

Why did you tell Miss Marple you lost your beret?

You had it at tennis.

- Were you listening?

And you left before we finished our game.

And you went soon after.

The gardener told me.

Yes.

But you don't think I could have killed your father.

You don't think I care enough about you.

HE GRUNTS - I know who did it.

SLACK: There you are.

Two birds, one stone.

Perhaps you could tell me where you both were on Tuesday evening.

Together.

We played tennis.

And then we went for a walk.

In the woods.

DENNIS: Ah, yes, the woods, the long way around over towards Much Benham.

It was a smashing evening.

Wasn't it?

WOMAN: Hello, Tony?

It's Joan Hargreaves.

I need a favour.

Is your place anywhere near St Mary Mead?

I left the ledgers on the desk, so you'd have them to hand when the colonel arrived.

You don't think the... murderer took them?

No.

I expect Mary's been moving things.

Were they all in order, by the way?

Mrs Price-Ridley's pound note had been counted in with the jumble sale money.

I went back over the last six months and everything balances.

As we knew it would.

"Lust bringeth forth sin "and sin bringeth forth death."

I...

I can't stay in here.

DOOR SLAMS LAWRENCE: 'I don't know what to do.'

Suddenly, we just seem so... distant.

What would you like to do?

Oh...

Walk away, just the two of us, into a crisp and snowy morning...

HE COUGHS ..then paint it.

The sneeze that Mary heard, that could have been the murderer, couldn't it?

And Anne was there.

I just hope she's safe.

DOOR CREAKS DOOR CREAKS CLOCK CHIMES He is early, your friend.

Good.

Bonjour.

The magazine you work for went out of business before the war.

Now, what have you got?

The silver?

DUFOSSE: My grandson, Henri.

JOAN: He would have been my husband.

We met in 1943.

He was in the Resistance.

- And you, Miss Hargreaves?

Special Operations.

I was dropped into France, working with Henri and his crew.

- The colonel?

- He commanded a desk in London.

DUFOSSE SPEAKS IN FRENCH - He betrayed him.

- He betrayed my grandson.

Protheroe's section was responsible for supplying the whole of our region, weapons, detonators and so on.

Early in '44, he had to organise a money drop, tens of thousands of francs in cash.

Henri and I waited at the rendezvous he'd given us, but the plane went right over and dropped the canister a mile away.

- Why?

- The rendezvous was false.

The money was picked up by a man called Lacombe... one of our group who had known Protheroe before the war.

It was simple greed.

After the war, they divided it between them.

Lacombe and the colonel.

Lacombe made a confession to me, last year, when he's dying.

That's the proof, bank transfers, statements, Lacombe's instructions.

What happened to Henri?

Lacombe had tipped off the Germans and they came for us.

I escaped.

He did not.

He was tortured until death.

My grandson.

- I'm very sorry.

- And so am I.

So am I. I'll tell you the truth.

I had to kill that son of a bitch, the colonel!

Because of him.

And so, I got my pistol, I went to the woods, up to the vicarage, through the French windows and into the study.

Ah... - Yes, Mr Dufosse?

I was too late.

I was too damn late!

He was dead.

DUFOSSE GASPS HE COUGHS Are you saying...

I'm saying he was already dead.

Thankfully.

MISS MARPLE: You're quite good at this.

SLACK: I've had to learn.

- Oh.

So, if what he told you is true, the colonel was dead by six thirty, when Monsieur Dufosse joined the others.

Only just, if the shot you heard was the murder.

- Do you believe him?

- Yes.

But the interesting thing is what Monsieur Dufosse saw in the study.

He described the gun as having a long barrel, you know, like the old Wild West ones?

And he thought the note was a good half page long, not just a couple of lines.

That IS interesting.

I don't know how reliable he is, though.

He had just come in out of bright sunlight... ..and he is getting on.

You've missed a bit.

Oh.

The note... Have you shown it to Mrs Protheroe?

No, actually.

She's at the vicarage now, I believe.

Funeral arrangements.

ANNE: Neither is in his writing, not the time or the words.

I don't understand.

You're not alone at this stage of the investigation.

Do you have any examples of the colonel's handwriting?

Yes, of course.

LEONARD: I found it yesterday under the desk.

It's not Griselda's.

It's Anne's.

DOORBELL CHIMES Should I give it to the inspector?

No.

Not just yet.

MAN: Sir, can I have a word?

Oh... MISS MARPLE: How very unpleasant.

The verse?

"To avoid fornication, let every man have his own wife "and let every woman have her own husband."

The motorbike was stolen in the morning and dumped soon after the incident.

Such a... crude and uncertain way of killing someone, unless it was just meant to frighten him.

I, er...

I must get on with my visiting.

- I can see myself out.

We'll get back to Mrs Protheroe.

Hello, Miss Marple.

I was thinking about leaving this one.

I might come back and finish it one day.

When do you go?

I don't know.

Tomorrow or the next day.

As soon as I can clean out the cottage.

Back to London?

I was thinking about Ireland... put some real distance between us.

You'll find a new life in time.

- But Anne won't, will she?

- I'll do my best for her.

She's a good friend.

Thank you.

Thank you for everything.

SHE SOBS KNOCK AT DOOR You've been crying?

Pot and kettle, dear.

I have some things to discuss.

Not very clever to use your scented notepaper.

Where are people's standards?

That's what worries me.

This young man Mrs Clement was seen with in Melchester?

Miss Hartnell said he was rather handsome, and he gave her flowers.

I'm sure there's an innocent explanation, but even if there weren't, really, Marjorie... SHE SIGHS I'm so ashamed, Jane.

What would Bruce think of me?

And Andrew?

That you sometimes get very lonely.

Yes.

And Anne Protheroe's standards, of course, you weren't to know the colonel had been murdered when you telephoned her at my cottage, but even so, it put her in a very difficult position when she went over there.

That wasn't me!

- When's the funeral?

- Tuesday afternoon.

Ah.

I'm in London all morning.

I hope the trains are better than last Tuesday.

I had to cadge a lift back.

- The day of the murder?

Chaos.

Not a single train to St Mary Mead the whole afternoon.

Every time we tell a lie... ..we are offending God.

"The heart is deceitful above all things, "and desperately wicked.

"Who can know it?"

Well, God can.

He sees into our hearts and searches them, to give every man according to his ways and according to the fruit of his doings.

Let us, then, keep our hearts pure so we may say with Paul, "I have lived in all good conscience "before God."

- Oh, bad luck.

HAWES: It wasn't luck.

Someone stabbed my tyre.

Such a violent thing to do.

With everything that's been going on, I'm terrified, Mr Redding.

Well, I'll walk you to your digs if you'd like.

Oh, yes, please.

Would you?

Achoo!

Bless you.

Thank you.

LETTICE CLEARS HER THROAT Yes?

I want to... ..live in all good conscience.

May I introduce you to my mother?

MRS LESTER: I know.

I know I'm not a very good advertisement for motherhood.

I don't want an advertisement.

Why did the colonel divorce you, may I ask?

I had a... tiny, tiny fling.

I like parties and people, but Lucius wanted to clip my wings.

He offered me an allowance in return...

In return for never seeing me again.

- Until now.

- It's taken me six years, since my second husband died to get my courage up.

Dutch courage, mostly.

I'm not very proud of myself.

You're here now, Mother.

I thought you were dead.

Never mind the hearts and flowers.

Look, when Protheroe came to your room... We have a witness.

Were you trying to blackmail him?

Lord, no!

I'm very well set-up.

No.

I just told him I wanted to see my lovely daughter Letteece.

SLACK: Oh.

She's going to reform me.

You're all I've got.

She sees me in a cottage, baking jam and knitting... things.

MRS LESTER LAUGHS As long as we can have an occasional cruise, dear.

- Mm!

MISS MARPLE: Lettice, may I have a private word?

It's Anne's.

It was under the desk where your father was murdered.

I knew it was her.

Tell the police.

Did you put it there when you were pretending to look for your beret?

She wasn't wearing those earrings on the day of the murder.

- Wasn't she?

- Oh, Lettice, it's me.

All right, but I don't see what difference it makes, Miss Marple.

She killed him somehow, so she could get her hands on Lawrence.

- Lettice... - What?

The red paint on your dress was new, wasn't it?

You'd just been in the shed.

So?

I heard you coming and had to hide.

I must have brushed against something.

It was magenta anyway.

The colour of passion, Lawrence says.

MISS MARPLE: You know, Hermione, I'll have to tell the police.

Thank you, dear.

When the colonel kept his appointment at the vicarage, he'd learnt that Mr Hawes left his last parish under a cloud.

The bishop kept it from the vicar to give him another chance.

What had he done?

Fiddled the accounts.

DOORBELL RINGS Ronnie's tried to kill himself.

Dr Haydock's there, and he's found a statement from Colonel Protheroe accusing Ronnie... - Accusing him of stealing?

- Yes.

I owe you a box of chocs.

Nothing gets past you, Miss Marple, does it?

Hardly ever.

Nothing gets past you, Miss Marple, does it?

Hardly ever, young man.

How clever!

How wicked!

DR HAYDOCK: The gas was full-on, and that much sedative would have put him to sleep quite quickly.

Another few minutes and he would have cheated the hangman.

"Note of conversation today regarding Ronald Hawes, "curate of St Mary Mead.

"Previous embezzlement of funds..." It's all here.

Monsieur Dufosse said the note he saw was longer.

The accounts.

He told me he'd left them in the study.

Lawrence Redding can tell us his state of mind.

The landlady said he came in with him and stayed talking.

MOTORCYCLE APPROACHES - Running well now, isn't she?

- Ooh.

I've got it, Inspector.

Lettice was right.

Anne Protheroe did kill her husband.

Anne and Lawrence Redding.

They made themselves the obvious suspects by ensuring their secret was out, knowing that if their plan worked, they would later appear above suspicion.

- Oh!

- I forgot you were coming.

Which, of course, he had not, any more than Anne Protheroe chose the Toby Jug just for a change.

'Mr Redding wasn't trying to run the colonel down.'

He knew it would help them muddy the waters when Mrs Protheroe mentioned it at the inquest.

- Bloody fool!

- Oh!

MISS MARPLE: 'They were making sure I'd be a captive audience 'for their little charade, in a ringside seat.

'He must have had his gun with him then, and a silencer.'

Monsieur Dufosse, remember, spoke of a long barrel.

Mr Redding in the study.

It's the right decision.

Have you told her?

- I need to find the words.

Then, he made two telephone calls, the first to get the vicar out of the way by pretending to be Mr Abbot's neighbour.

Ah, Mary, old Mr Abbott over at Lower Farm, his neighbour telephoned to say he was poorly again.

The second to my cottage.

St Mary Mead 235.

We're all set, darling.

It was for me.

Sorry.

MISS MARPLE: 'She knew I'd see 'she couldn't possibly have a gun with her 'when she went into the vicarage at twenty past six.'

Which was when you shot your husband.

"Coffee and cake," you said, when you telephoned.

Where's Lawrence?

Under arrest by now.

SLACK: The loud sneeze that Mary heard at six twenty was your silenced pistol, Mr Redding, fired by Mrs Protheroe.

But the shot at six thirty had me puzzled, until Miss Marple found what she did.

'It didn't come from the woods or from the house.

'It came from the shed.

'So, she goes off with the Dufosses 'and you go to the Blue Boar.'

A large one.

I've had a hell of a day.

SLACK: Then you returned to the vicarage on the pretext of seeing Mr Clement again, knowing he wouldn't be back from his wild goose chase.

Wait in the study with the colonel.

- He's here?

MARY: He is.

SLACK: 'You remove the murder weapon 'and leave a forged note with deliberate mistakes, 'different handwriting in different inks 'on vicarage notepaper you'd taken previously.

'A shock to find a statement from the colonel, 'but it might come in useful.

'You reset the clock, knowing it was fast... '..all to make us think Mrs Protheroe 'was being falsely implicated in her husband's murder.'

And the colonel's statement did come in useful last night, didn't it?

'As you now had evidence of a motive, 'enough to frame Mr Hawes for the murder.'

Oh, bad luck.

"Calm down, Ronnie.

I'll mix your medicine", and turn on the gas, as you drift away and leave the colonel's note by the body.

But murder, Anne?

For a stranger who reminded you of what might have been?

He wasn't a stranger.

'But I was right when I said 'nothing was ever the same again.'

It was Lawrence who didn't come back from the fighting, except that he did, four years after he'd been reported dead, and by then, I was Mrs Protheroe.

He found you?

He was too decent to try when he heard I'd married.

I found him.

A magazine article about the rising young artist back from the dead.

What did we do wrong?

You ask me that?

What mistake did we make?

When you came out of the shed with him, you were the same woman.

You hadn't said goodbye forever to the man you loved.

- You could tell that?

- You think I've never...

I lost someone in a war, who got a medal for dying.

His wife will have cherished it.

His wife?

Easier for you, then, Jane.

He was dead.

You didn't have to choose between right and wrong.

When you volunteered, darling, you made a choice to do your duty.

- Yes.

- I've had to make a choice too.

I've chosen to do my duty.

Come back safe, but for your wife, not for me.

- Jane...

Please, if I can't come back for you, then there's... Jane!

Jane!

SHE SOBS KNOCKING AT THE DOOR Lawrence!

Lawrence!

It was the apricot chutney with fish stew that gave me an inkling.

BOTH LAUGH When did you find out?

My cousin called this morning to confirm.

Of course!

He's that doctor in Melchester, isn't he?

Rather a handsome young man.

I didn't want to see Dr Haydock.

Well, you know village gossip, and I wanted to be sure first.

She told me she'd gone to London.

I never suspected a thing.

PRIEST: Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.

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