Father Brown (2013) s09e07 Episode Script
The Island of Dreams
1
Hello, campers.
Rise and shine! It's another glorious day, and to get you in the mood, the sun has got his hat on.
Oh! I'm so sorry, campers.
I don't know how that happened.
Come on, Mavis.
I know you can squeeze me in.
I can't seem to get it up.
Have either of you seen Kitty? Not recently, no.
She was out all night.
It's not like her.
Why don't you ask Mrs? - Mrs Chummy, I was wondering - Not now, Sandy.
What in the name of all things holy? This is my new routine, this is! When all the campers are having their breakfast, I lay hardboiled eggs for them.
Congratulations on plumbing new depths of vulgarity.
Now, who is responsible for today's prank? - Not me, Mrs Chummy.
- Oh, no.
That music really put the willies up me.
Well, whoever it is, it has got to stop.
We've got VIPs coming from all over the country this weekend.
And the creme de la creme of Kembleford.
We cannot afford any nonsense! Who did it? Who made that monstrous thing out there? What is it, Jock? What? No! Oh, hello, Father! Never had you down as having green fingers.
I'm looking after the garden while Mrs McCarthy is away.
And I hope that everything survives until she gets back.
Where's she gone? To Ireland.
To visit her sister.
And it is only in her absence that I realise how much I rely on her.
Still, everyone deserves a holiday! Very true.
Oh, speaking of which .
.
did you get one of these? An invitation to Chummy's Holiday Camp.
I'm intrigued.
Well, we're going, and the Inspector and his family.
Should be a nice relaxing weekend.
Let's hope so.
- Cheerio, Father.
- Cheerio, Sergeant.
Hello, campers.
Rise and shine! And what a load of frolics we have for you today.
At 11 o'clock, our ever-popular knobbly knees competition, followed by an Egyptian cabaret.
Something for everyone, whether you like Egypt or knees.
But it was 20 years ago -- my late husband, Charlie, and I built this camp.
And tonight we are having a gala celebration with stars old and new.
So come along and let the memories come flooding back.
We're all chums at Chummy's Yes.
Loyal to the end Come here as a stranger and you'll go away Good morning, everybody.
Good morning, Mrs Chummy.
Now, as you know, today is our anniversary Oh! Sorry I'm late, I was helping a lost child.
Really? Well, it's a pity you didn't get lost yourself, but never mind.
As I was saying, today is our anniversary.
So there must be no more pranks, or any kind of silliness.
Yes, Mrs Chummy.
Woof, Mrs Chummy.
So Sandy will be meeting our VIPs.
If that's all right with you? Of course, Mrs Chummy.
Which means that you will be in charge of the knobbly knees competition.
Oh, Mrs Chummy, please! Knobbly knees are beneath me! I am a highly-skilled entertainer.
Ha! Well, your secret's safe with me.
You keep your little wet nose out of it.
Mrs Chummy, if he doesn't want to, I'd love to have a go.
"Friends, campers, countrymen -- lend me your knees!" No! Mavis, how many times? The reason Chummy's has lasted so long is because everyone knows their place.
And your place is at the end of this! Morning.
How was your chalet, Father? Quite sufficient for one night.
They don't really go in for home comforts here.
They want you out and about, having fun.
Speaking of which, I have to go and find the Inspector.
I'll see you later, Father.
Father Brown? - Hello.
- I'm Sandy.
Sandy Beauchamp.
And I've come to show you the Island of Dreams.
You must be a - Orangecoat.
- Oh, yes! - Yes.
- Of course.
- Is it fun? - Oh, yeah.
Every day is so exciting.
Some days it's quite hard to finish my breakfast.
And what would you say was the secret of Chummy's success? Er, variety.
Everywhere you go, there's a new gay adventure.
So, shall I take you to the lady who made it all happen? Hello, campers.
It's knobbly knees time! So, whether your knees are bonny or bony, bring them along to our magnificent outdoor pool.
Oh, Father Brown! Our illustrious guest.
I was most surprised to be invited.
Oh, I've always been very interested in the church.
The liturgy, the traditions.
You are very welcome at Mass tomorrow.
I said I was interested.
I didn't say I was obsessed.
But it's so nice to have you here.
Allow me to give you the grand tour.
Now, my husband, Charlie, was one of the big nobs of the entertainment industry.
But so many of his childhood holidays were ruined by the rain.
So, back in 1933, he dreamed of a place where the fun flows freely and rain never stops play.
20 years on, here we are! Oh, later on, we're having a little talent contest if you fancy giving us a turn? I know one or two songs.
- What about - No, no, not now.
I don't want to pre-judge.
This is a very special place.
Dream Cottage.
Charlie and I used to live here.
I still do, and it's very much the beating heart of the operation.
- Mrs Chummy? - Hm? - I'm intrigued.
- Yes? The swimming pool is such a feature of Chummy's, and yet, in 1938, it was a sandpit.
Was it? I think we were just conserving water.
Mrs Chummy, I don't like to interrupt.
Well, then, don't.
But I've just found out that Sylvia, who was due to do the sports day today, - has got a gippy tummy.
- And? And I thought maybe I could help out.
- I could organise the limbo dancing.
- Indeed.
As you're so good at bending backwards for the guests.
But you are not, and will never be, an Orangecoat.
Haven't you got any floors to mop? Yes, Mrs Chummy.
Sorry, Mrs Chummy.
I'm sorry.
I do hope that didn't seem too harsh.
It did a bit.
Well, I apologise, but here at Chummy's, we have to run a very tight ship, which is why our trophy cabinet is simply groaning with awards.
Ah! Oh! This is someone's idea of a joke! Mavis! - Mavis! - Yes, Mrs Chummy? Will you get rid of this? Roll up! Roll up! Who wants to roll up their trouser legs, expose their knees to the breeze? Come on, sir, it's just a bit of fun.
I fail to see the appeal of naked kneecaps.
First prize is a barrel of beer.
John, hold my coat.
- Inspector.
- Padre.
Don't tell me it's a mortal sin to expose one's kneecaps? On the contrary, the Bible is clear, one should not hide one's light under a bushel.
Very droll.
Right, let's get them lined up by the tedium.
Stadium.
- Is everything all right, mate? - No, its not.
I didn't want to do this.
And they're far too close to the edge! Where's Mavis? She's supposed to be supervising.
Mavis? What are you talking about? Is everything tickety-boo? Jock's just having a moment.
Well, you take over the competition.
And, Jock, come with me.
I want a word with you.
Mind if I join you? It's a free country.
How did you get on in the knobbly knees contest, Inspector? Go on, sir.
Don't be modest.
Third prize.
Mrs McCarthy may have found fame with her scones, but I have won a prize for my patella.
We're off to Egypt Underneath the desert sun No place like Egypt Far away from everyone So we say farewell to Chummy's Heading for the land of mummies We're off to Egypt Come along and join the fun.
So, here I am.
On the trail of the rootin' Tutankhamun.
But what's that sound? Is it my black pudding coming back to haunt me? Look who it is! It's Well, I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen.
I - Sorry.
- Look who it is! It's Uncle Jock! But he's not going to help.
He's all wrapped up.
Whoa! Well, wasn't that fun, everybody? But yummy, yummy, yummy -- there's a rumbling in my tummy! Thank goodness it's time for Kembleford police! Everyone stay right where you are! Mrs Chummy, are you all right? Mrs Chummy? - Mrs Chummy? - Move out the way, please.
- Oh! - Oh, Mrs Chummy! Just take some deep breaths.
You'll be all right.
Oh! There must be a homicidal maniac about! Perhaps we should turn off the microphone? Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat ei.
Offerentes eam in conspectu Altissimi.
- Amen.
- Finally.
You can go now, Padre.
She's been strangled.
I'm well aware of that, thank you.
And on the 20th anniversary of her husband's creation.
And you think the date is significant? Indeed I do.
Earlier today, I saw a clown statue dressed as the Grim Reaper.
It now looks as if it was a prophecy.
Oh, Lord.
Oh, blessed David and all the saints.
I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight.
They'll put us under police protection.
If there is someone out there.
Oh, it's you.
Now, I have to ask, are you the real thing, or is this fancy dress? The real thing.
At least, I try my best.
Any sign of the Inspector? He's talking to Jock, who'll be telling him theatrical anecdotes.
Oh, he'll be gone till doomsday.
I understand Mr McCudgeon was here from the very beginning? Yeah, that's right.
And he's always saying he's going to be here till Old Father Time brings down the curtain.
Well, that won't be possible now, will it? - Chummy's will have to close.
- No! We can't close! We're booked solid till the end of the season.
We've got the big show tonight! The show must go on? I-I think so.
There are people coming from all over the country.
- Sergeant? - Not now, Father.
Someone seems in a bit of a hurry.
Hello, everyone.
Tea? Coffee? Ovaltine? Mavis, what are you doing here? What do you mean? The police told us to sit and wait to be interviewed.
Yeah, but they've done me.
So I thought I'd give out some refreshments.
- Is that wise? - What? You're not suggesting that I'm trying to poison people? No, I never said that.
They spoke to me first! They let me go.
They know I'm innocent.
- Mavis Jug? - Yes? I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder - of Mrs Marjorie Chummy.
- No! You're not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say may be given in evidence.
This is madness.
I'm innocent.
I'll charge Miss Jug back at the station.
You stay and secure the crime scene.
I'm taken aback, Sergeant.
That was a brutal strangulation, and Mavis seems like a gentle soul.
We've just been searching her lodgings, found the murder weapon, Father.
How did she have time to go back to her lodgings? Well, she was the only one in the area when the crime took place.
Why be so foolish? Why choose a time when everyone else has a perfect alibi? Unless that was the idea? So, Mrs Chummy's death was broadcast, but how do we know it was live? Er, because we heard it.
"Yummy, yummy, yummy -- there's a rumbling in my tummy!" She must have said that every day.
What if the killer recorded it on another day, and then added the sounds of strangulation? They'd still need to be here to turn it on, Father.
If the recording was at the end of the reel, the killer could've murdered Mrs Chummy, pressed play .
.
and the announcement wouldn't have gone out till 12:45.
But there's no tape in the machine.
Because it's been removed.
Presumably while we were preoccupied with the corpse.
How the devil did they do that? And how is the Inspector's health and temper? At the moment, I don't think you'd mistake him for a ray of sunshine.
- Oh, dear.
- Hm.
He says there was only one person in the area.
Mavis.
One person with no alibi.
Mavis.
And that Mrs Chummy was strangled with an apron belonging to .
.
Mavis.
Although it is an unusual killer that takes the murder weapon home with them.
He claims she wasn't in her right state of mind.
For years, she's been begging to become an Orangecoat.
But Mrs Chummy would only ever use her as a maid.
I suspect the sheer frustration caused her to snap.
I see.
Yes, I imagine that is a nightmare of the Inspector's -- the downtrodden workers overthrowing their tyrannical bosses.
You've got to admit, though, Father, until we find the tape that the killer used, we've not really got much to go on.
I've got a horrible feeling the Inspector may get his way with this one.
Although, we do have an advantage over the Inspector.
- And what's that? - Our ability to listen.
I didn't do it.
I didn't like Mrs Chummy, but why would I want to throttle her? Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm her? We both saw that Grim Reaper earlier.
We've had all sorts of pranks.
Funny noises over the tannoy, a dummy of Mrs Chummy with a knife sticking out of it.
How long has this been going on? Oh, about two weeks.
Is there anybody who might have born a grudge against her? I can think of one.
For the past few weeks, Sandy's been looking after a stray cat, Kitty.
But then it went missing.
Darling, I told you before, pets are not permitted.
I gave you an ultimatum to get rid of it.
- How could I do that? - I don't know.
Down a well, possibly.
Anyway, you won't need to worry about it now.
Do you know where she is? As I say, you won't need to worry.
If you've hurt a single hair on that animal's head, I'll What happened? I dropped my bucket and Mrs Chummy told me to sling my hook, so Why frame you for the murder? Is there any reason why someone might bear you ill will? I don't think so.
I just do my best to keep my head down, keep going.
Am I going to hang for this, Father? I will do all I can to prevent it.
So, how is she, Father? Not good.
I think she has survived her whole life on hope -- and reserves are running dry.
I need to get back to the camp.
Well, I've got the day off and a full tank of petrol.
Good.
Let's go and see a man about a cat.
Please.
Take a seat.
Oh, this is very Small.
I was going to say cosy.
Were you fond of Mrs Chummy? Yeah, I thought she was amazing.
It takes a special type of person to create their own magical world.
Someone who is utterly driven, and will stop at nothing to get what they want? I don't know what do you mean.
Well .
.
you were overheard having an argument with Mrs Chummy, about something that had been taken away.
Oh, no.
It's not like that.
I Are you all right? I just I think I'm going to Bless you.
A very violent sneeze, Sergeant.
I'm sorry, Father.
I couldn't help myself.
Are you perhaps allergic to certain animals? Oh, sorry.
I forgot to mention.
Here, Kitty.
- Kitty.
- Aw! Kitty came to live with me and Mrs Chummy found out and confiscated it to teach me a lesson.
But I just said, "If you've done anything to hurt my cat, "I shall resign.
" What did she say to that? She said, "Just keep it out of my sight "and don't get any hairs on your uniform.
" So If you stood up to Mrs Chummy, then she respected you.
It's only if you were a bit weak, she tended to bully you.
Who in particular did she bully? W You know, if I had to say someone, it'd be Jock.
He does his best, but he does get in a bit of a muddle.
And, yeah, she really used to pick on him.
You don't really think it could be Jock, do you, Father? I mean, he seems like he's in a world all of his own.
Unless it's all an act.
And that's the way to do it! That's the way to do it! Mr McCudgeon? What is it? - Sorry.
- May we have a word? Oh, yes.
Father Green, was it? Near enough.
Wanted to have a word with you about Mrs Chummy -- as you'd known her longer than anyone else.
Oh, for more years than I care to remember.
I was in variety with her husband.
When they opened the camp, I was only too happy - to come and help out.
- Mm.
Although, you didn't look too happy at the knobbly knees competition.
Yes, well, I was concerned about some safety issues.
Mrs Chummy asked to have a word with you.
Afterwards, you were very distressed.
You were late on stage for the cabaret.
Well, I was distressed.
Sometimes, Mrs Chummy over-reacts a little.
And what do you think you were doing? I was concerned the podium was too close to the pool.
I did not want an accident.
Oh, there's an accident every time you step on the stage.
It's the biggest day of my life, and you've spoiled it! No, that is most unfair.
I've worked hard for you all these years.
And now you're a liability.
When tonight's festivities are over, I want you out! Oh, how pretty! Look! Oh, what fun! Yes.
That does sound like an over-reaction.
She was just a bit anxious about this morning.
She would have changed her mind by this evening.
Anxious about what in particular? Well, the pranks.
The anniversary.
Seeing old faces.
And old memories.
What sort of memories? Ah, the children! My audience! It's time for my 12 o'clock performance! 12 o'clock? It's 3:30! So, could he have killed her in order to keep his job? Or to keep a secret.
That's the way to do it! That's the way to do it! Oh-ho-ho-ho! Where are we going, Father? Dream Cottage.
Mrs Chummy's house.
The headquarters of the operation.
You know, I've always wondered how you gain access to so many crime scenes.
Have you? Ah, well, perhaps you should look away now.
This is very nice.
I'm clearly in the wrong job.
So, what are you looking for, Father? The story of Chummy's.
Or rather, the story that Mrs Chummy .
.
doesn't want told.
Photograph album.
It's their honeymoon.
In Nice.
Strange thing to keep in a locked drawer.
Indeed.
Employment records.
Jock McCudgeon.
20 years.
No complaints.
And yet, Mrs Chummy seemed very keen to let him go.
This is a letter from a theatre manager, Mr Parnell, asking about the availability of Griff Grimshaw to appear at the London Palladium.
A very prestigious venue.
And this is a follow-up letter, written a few days later.
"Dear Mrs Chummy, "thank you for warning me about Mr Grimshaw.
"No, we cannot afford to have a drunken layabout "in our company.
"I have cancelled his contract forthwith.
" When was that dated? Just over two weeks ago.
Mr Grimshaw? There's no sign of him, Father.
Whoa! Hi-ho, Silver! Mr Grimshaw? May we have a word? Well, I'll do my best.
But it's quite hard to control this thing.
I wanted to talk to you about Mrs Chummy.
Ah, yes.
I can't believe she's dead.
I never knew anyone so alive.
Will you stop that?! You do know I could have you arrested for common assault? Me or the ostrich? I gather she wasn't the most encouraging of employers.
Oh, no.
She was always encouraging us to try hard, do our best for the place.
Mr Grimshaw, for entertainers like you, Chummy is the first rung on the ladder to success.
Unless Mrs Chummy snatched the ladder away.
What are you talking about? A six-week show at the London Palladium, which would have starred a comedian called Griff Grimshaw.
Only, Mrs Chummy said he wasn't suitable.
She did a bit more than that, you know! She wrote to them.
She told them what a useless drunk I was.
Well, not so useless that I couldn't phone the secretary and find out what was going on! That must have made you very angry.
Well, I didn't exactly jump for joy.
And how did your anger express itself, Mr Grimshaw? I played one or two practical jokes.
Nothing serious.
I swapped a few records around.
Didn't you make a dummy with a knife sticking into it? OK, well, I thought it seemed quite amusing at the time, but I didn't, you know - So, who did? - Well, how should I know? She was always picking on people.
Jock, and poor old Mavis.
She took away her dream job.
She told her, "You'll never be an Orangecoat again.
" Again? Well, it was a long time ago.
When Mr McCudgeon became confused, he still imagined you were an Orangecoat.
He was calling for you, wondering why you weren't on duty.
We were by the pool.
And earlier, in the exhibition, I noticed that the pool had been filled in for some years.
Why? I try not to think about it.
There was a little boy and he got separated from his parents, and he went to the pool.
It was being cleaned at the time, but he He couldn't read the sign saying keep out.
So he went in.
And he couldn't swim.
No-one saw him till it was too late.
What was your role in all this, Mavis? I was in charge of first aid.
I knew how to give the kiss of life.
Only, I'd I'd just met a very nice man .
.
and he'd asked me back to his chalet.
I was only gone an hour.
But I was too late.
Was there a cover-up? They did everything to keep the place open, keep it out of the papers.
They? Mrs Chummy and Uncle Jock.
- Ah, hello! - Father Brown? You know we're having a talent show later? - Oh! - Er, maybe you should rest your vocal cords for Mass tomorrow, Father.
Of course.
I wonder where I might find Mr McCudgeon? Oh, he's just getting changed.
Er, can I leave Mr McCudgeon to you, Father? I need to find the Inspector and Mrs Goodfellow.
We're watching the big show together.
I'll see you there.
Mr McCudgeon? Hello! Mr McCudgeon? How do you do? Will you be disappearing? Oh, no, no, no.
This is a new trick.
I shall be performing it tonight with young Griff.
The show about Chummy memories.
Not all of them happy.
The boy who drowned in the swimming pool.
Why do you bring that up? Because everything that has happened today is connected to that tragedy.
Do you remember his name? It was Jimmy? Timmy? No, sorry, it's gone.
But I remember his face and the terrible feeling I could do nothing for him.
Where were you when it happened? At the other end of the camp.
I heard the screams, I came running, and there was Mrs Chummy, screaming for Mavis instead of doing something to help the child.
Poor boy was floating.
I pulled him from the water, but .
.
it was too late.
There must have been a coroner's inquest? I told them Mavis had nothing to do with it.
She was detained looking after another child.
Then they asked me about Mrs Chummy and why she hadn't dived in and saved him.
I presume you told them she couldn't swim? How do you know? Photographs, secreted in Mrs Chummy's house, of her honeymoon.
Swimming in the sea at Nice.
If they had become public, Mrs Chummy would have been charged with negligence and you would have spent time in prison for perjury.
I'm not proud of what I did.
I only did it to keep this place going.
Billy! That was his name.
Billy Fairfield.
Five-minute call! Thank you.
The show must go on.
Hello, everybody.
It's so sweet to see so many old faces.
But tonight's show is all about the lady who made this place happen.
Dear Mrs Chummy .
.
who welcomed us all to her Island of Dreams.
We're all chums at Chummy's Loyal to the end Come here as a stranger And you'll go home as a friend When you come to Chummy's All your dreams come true So come, come, come to Chummy's We're waiting here for you.
Of course! Will you excuse me? Excuse me.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Thank you.
Mr Beauchamp, may I have a word? Er, yeah.
How did you make those flowers appear? A magician never tells.
No, of course.
In the radio studio, after Mrs Chummy's death, someone made a tape disappear.
And watching you tonight, I think I know who.
- No.
- Oh, Mrs Chummy.
I Just take some deep breaths.
You'll be all right.
There must be a homicidal maniac about! You used Mavis' consternation as a distraction to take away a vital piece of evidence.
I don't know what you're talking about.
And all for a boy named Billy Fairfield.
I presume he was your brother? You see, if you translate Fairfield into French, it becomes Beauchamp.
And you must have needed a new name to come and work here.
Tell me, what's your real name? Andrew.
Andrew Fairfield.
Tell me about your brother, Andrew.
Billy was kind.
And he was funny.
And people used to say he was simple.
Slow learning.
But I loved him more than anyone.
We came here as a family, and I'd never seen him so happy.
But then he wandered off.
And everyone said, "Don't worry, "this is the safest place in the world.
" I cannot imagine the pain you and your parents suffered.
They never got over it.
They died last year.
50 years old.
They looked 100.
So now it was up to you to find out the truth.
I came here to work.
But I only wanted one thing.
I-I wanted to ask you something.
Oh, yes? Is it true, er, a boy once drowned in the swimming pool? Oh, dear.
Who's been putting poison in your delicate little ears? One of the visitors.
Well, it was a long time ago.
H-How could it happen with so many people on duty? Well, Mavis should have been there, but she'd just met a carpet salesman from Droitwich.
And I'd had a long day.
But the thing is, he was abnormal.
Mentally defective.
It was a blessing in disguise for the poor family.
I know she didn't kill him.
But she didn't care.
And that's enough.
So now you had two people to blame.
Oh, cooey! You took Mavis' apron and went to the radio studio and prepared to kill two birds with one stone.
And now you want me to tell the police? To save Mavis' life? I want you to save your own soul.
You love your brother, and if you want to be with him in heaven .
.
you need to do the right thing.
You need to give up all thoughts of revenge.
No.
I made Billy a promise -- to punish anyone who failed him or who lied about what happened.
Right, then! Now we place Uncle Jock into the cabinet of death! Are you all right in there, Uncle Jock? I think so! Get on with it? It's a very tight squeeze.
Stop! I think you should put down that sword.
It's OK, Father.
This thing's retractable.
Right, then.
Here it goes.
Straight through the heart.
- Are you all right? - I'm fine.
It's not the first time I've died on stage.
Help! Get me out of here! Can anyone tell me what's going on? This young man can.
And I would ask you to listen to him without prejudice.
Well, well.
The garden's looking rather splendid, Father.
Well, I think on balance there's more alive than dead.
But I'll be glad when Mrs McCarthy returns.
Ah, look who it is! Sergeant.
Father Brown.
Mavis Jug.
How nice to see you.
Oh, it's nice just to be out in the daylight.
I thought I was going to be stuck in that cell forever.
And yet, here you are.
And I notice I know! It's like a dream come true.
Congratulations.
Hey, how did you manage it? Well, you know Mrs Chummy didn't have any children? It turns out she's left the holiday camp to her entire staff.
So Griff is going to take over as head entertainer.
And, oh, Jock is going to carry on living with us.
But I don't think he's up to performing any more.
But we'll look after him.
That's very kind.
And I wish you all the best in your endeavours.
Thank you.
Oh! And we've got a talent show next week, so if either of you want to give us a turn.
Well, I do know one or two musical songs.
Well, go on, then.
List to me, while I tell you, of the Spaniard that blighted my life Fa-la-la List to me, while I tell you, of the man who stole my future wife 'Twas at the bullfight that we met him We were watching his daring display While I just nipped outside for some nuts and a programme The dirty dog stole her away He will die He will die He will die-diddly-die-die-die He shall die He shall die I'll raise a bunion on his Spanish onion When I catch him bending tonight!
Rise and shine! It's another glorious day, and to get you in the mood, the sun has got his hat on.
Oh! I'm so sorry, campers.
I don't know how that happened.
Come on, Mavis.
I know you can squeeze me in.
I can't seem to get it up.
Have either of you seen Kitty? Not recently, no.
She was out all night.
It's not like her.
Why don't you ask Mrs? - Mrs Chummy, I was wondering - Not now, Sandy.
What in the name of all things holy? This is my new routine, this is! When all the campers are having their breakfast, I lay hardboiled eggs for them.
Congratulations on plumbing new depths of vulgarity.
Now, who is responsible for today's prank? - Not me, Mrs Chummy.
- Oh, no.
That music really put the willies up me.
Well, whoever it is, it has got to stop.
We've got VIPs coming from all over the country this weekend.
And the creme de la creme of Kembleford.
We cannot afford any nonsense! Who did it? Who made that monstrous thing out there? What is it, Jock? What? No! Oh, hello, Father! Never had you down as having green fingers.
I'm looking after the garden while Mrs McCarthy is away.
And I hope that everything survives until she gets back.
Where's she gone? To Ireland.
To visit her sister.
And it is only in her absence that I realise how much I rely on her.
Still, everyone deserves a holiday! Very true.
Oh, speaking of which .
.
did you get one of these? An invitation to Chummy's Holiday Camp.
I'm intrigued.
Well, we're going, and the Inspector and his family.
Should be a nice relaxing weekend.
Let's hope so.
- Cheerio, Father.
- Cheerio, Sergeant.
Hello, campers.
Rise and shine! And what a load of frolics we have for you today.
At 11 o'clock, our ever-popular knobbly knees competition, followed by an Egyptian cabaret.
Something for everyone, whether you like Egypt or knees.
But it was 20 years ago -- my late husband, Charlie, and I built this camp.
And tonight we are having a gala celebration with stars old and new.
So come along and let the memories come flooding back.
We're all chums at Chummy's Yes.
Loyal to the end Come here as a stranger and you'll go away Good morning, everybody.
Good morning, Mrs Chummy.
Now, as you know, today is our anniversary Oh! Sorry I'm late, I was helping a lost child.
Really? Well, it's a pity you didn't get lost yourself, but never mind.
As I was saying, today is our anniversary.
So there must be no more pranks, or any kind of silliness.
Yes, Mrs Chummy.
Woof, Mrs Chummy.
So Sandy will be meeting our VIPs.
If that's all right with you? Of course, Mrs Chummy.
Which means that you will be in charge of the knobbly knees competition.
Oh, Mrs Chummy, please! Knobbly knees are beneath me! I am a highly-skilled entertainer.
Ha! Well, your secret's safe with me.
You keep your little wet nose out of it.
Mrs Chummy, if he doesn't want to, I'd love to have a go.
"Friends, campers, countrymen -- lend me your knees!" No! Mavis, how many times? The reason Chummy's has lasted so long is because everyone knows their place.
And your place is at the end of this! Morning.
How was your chalet, Father? Quite sufficient for one night.
They don't really go in for home comforts here.
They want you out and about, having fun.
Speaking of which, I have to go and find the Inspector.
I'll see you later, Father.
Father Brown? - Hello.
- I'm Sandy.
Sandy Beauchamp.
And I've come to show you the Island of Dreams.
You must be a - Orangecoat.
- Oh, yes! - Yes.
- Of course.
- Is it fun? - Oh, yeah.
Every day is so exciting.
Some days it's quite hard to finish my breakfast.
And what would you say was the secret of Chummy's success? Er, variety.
Everywhere you go, there's a new gay adventure.
So, shall I take you to the lady who made it all happen? Hello, campers.
It's knobbly knees time! So, whether your knees are bonny or bony, bring them along to our magnificent outdoor pool.
Oh, Father Brown! Our illustrious guest.
I was most surprised to be invited.
Oh, I've always been very interested in the church.
The liturgy, the traditions.
You are very welcome at Mass tomorrow.
I said I was interested.
I didn't say I was obsessed.
But it's so nice to have you here.
Allow me to give you the grand tour.
Now, my husband, Charlie, was one of the big nobs of the entertainment industry.
But so many of his childhood holidays were ruined by the rain.
So, back in 1933, he dreamed of a place where the fun flows freely and rain never stops play.
20 years on, here we are! Oh, later on, we're having a little talent contest if you fancy giving us a turn? I know one or two songs.
- What about - No, no, not now.
I don't want to pre-judge.
This is a very special place.
Dream Cottage.
Charlie and I used to live here.
I still do, and it's very much the beating heart of the operation.
- Mrs Chummy? - Hm? - I'm intrigued.
- Yes? The swimming pool is such a feature of Chummy's, and yet, in 1938, it was a sandpit.
Was it? I think we were just conserving water.
Mrs Chummy, I don't like to interrupt.
Well, then, don't.
But I've just found out that Sylvia, who was due to do the sports day today, - has got a gippy tummy.
- And? And I thought maybe I could help out.
- I could organise the limbo dancing.
- Indeed.
As you're so good at bending backwards for the guests.
But you are not, and will never be, an Orangecoat.
Haven't you got any floors to mop? Yes, Mrs Chummy.
Sorry, Mrs Chummy.
I'm sorry.
I do hope that didn't seem too harsh.
It did a bit.
Well, I apologise, but here at Chummy's, we have to run a very tight ship, which is why our trophy cabinet is simply groaning with awards.
Ah! Oh! This is someone's idea of a joke! Mavis! - Mavis! - Yes, Mrs Chummy? Will you get rid of this? Roll up! Roll up! Who wants to roll up their trouser legs, expose their knees to the breeze? Come on, sir, it's just a bit of fun.
I fail to see the appeal of naked kneecaps.
First prize is a barrel of beer.
John, hold my coat.
- Inspector.
- Padre.
Don't tell me it's a mortal sin to expose one's kneecaps? On the contrary, the Bible is clear, one should not hide one's light under a bushel.
Very droll.
Right, let's get them lined up by the tedium.
Stadium.
- Is everything all right, mate? - No, its not.
I didn't want to do this.
And they're far too close to the edge! Where's Mavis? She's supposed to be supervising.
Mavis? What are you talking about? Is everything tickety-boo? Jock's just having a moment.
Well, you take over the competition.
And, Jock, come with me.
I want a word with you.
Mind if I join you? It's a free country.
How did you get on in the knobbly knees contest, Inspector? Go on, sir.
Don't be modest.
Third prize.
Mrs McCarthy may have found fame with her scones, but I have won a prize for my patella.
We're off to Egypt Underneath the desert sun No place like Egypt Far away from everyone So we say farewell to Chummy's Heading for the land of mummies We're off to Egypt Come along and join the fun.
So, here I am.
On the trail of the rootin' Tutankhamun.
But what's that sound? Is it my black pudding coming back to haunt me? Look who it is! It's Well, I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen.
I - Sorry.
- Look who it is! It's Uncle Jock! But he's not going to help.
He's all wrapped up.
Whoa! Well, wasn't that fun, everybody? But yummy, yummy, yummy -- there's a rumbling in my tummy! Thank goodness it's time for Kembleford police! Everyone stay right where you are! Mrs Chummy, are you all right? Mrs Chummy? - Mrs Chummy? - Move out the way, please.
- Oh! - Oh, Mrs Chummy! Just take some deep breaths.
You'll be all right.
Oh! There must be a homicidal maniac about! Perhaps we should turn off the microphone? Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat ei.
Offerentes eam in conspectu Altissimi.
- Amen.
- Finally.
You can go now, Padre.
She's been strangled.
I'm well aware of that, thank you.
And on the 20th anniversary of her husband's creation.
And you think the date is significant? Indeed I do.
Earlier today, I saw a clown statue dressed as the Grim Reaper.
It now looks as if it was a prophecy.
Oh, Lord.
Oh, blessed David and all the saints.
I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight.
They'll put us under police protection.
If there is someone out there.
Oh, it's you.
Now, I have to ask, are you the real thing, or is this fancy dress? The real thing.
At least, I try my best.
Any sign of the Inspector? He's talking to Jock, who'll be telling him theatrical anecdotes.
Oh, he'll be gone till doomsday.
I understand Mr McCudgeon was here from the very beginning? Yeah, that's right.
And he's always saying he's going to be here till Old Father Time brings down the curtain.
Well, that won't be possible now, will it? - Chummy's will have to close.
- No! We can't close! We're booked solid till the end of the season.
We've got the big show tonight! The show must go on? I-I think so.
There are people coming from all over the country.
- Sergeant? - Not now, Father.
Someone seems in a bit of a hurry.
Hello, everyone.
Tea? Coffee? Ovaltine? Mavis, what are you doing here? What do you mean? The police told us to sit and wait to be interviewed.
Yeah, but they've done me.
So I thought I'd give out some refreshments.
- Is that wise? - What? You're not suggesting that I'm trying to poison people? No, I never said that.
They spoke to me first! They let me go.
They know I'm innocent.
- Mavis Jug? - Yes? I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder - of Mrs Marjorie Chummy.
- No! You're not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say may be given in evidence.
This is madness.
I'm innocent.
I'll charge Miss Jug back at the station.
You stay and secure the crime scene.
I'm taken aback, Sergeant.
That was a brutal strangulation, and Mavis seems like a gentle soul.
We've just been searching her lodgings, found the murder weapon, Father.
How did she have time to go back to her lodgings? Well, she was the only one in the area when the crime took place.
Why be so foolish? Why choose a time when everyone else has a perfect alibi? Unless that was the idea? So, Mrs Chummy's death was broadcast, but how do we know it was live? Er, because we heard it.
"Yummy, yummy, yummy -- there's a rumbling in my tummy!" She must have said that every day.
What if the killer recorded it on another day, and then added the sounds of strangulation? They'd still need to be here to turn it on, Father.
If the recording was at the end of the reel, the killer could've murdered Mrs Chummy, pressed play .
.
and the announcement wouldn't have gone out till 12:45.
But there's no tape in the machine.
Because it's been removed.
Presumably while we were preoccupied with the corpse.
How the devil did they do that? And how is the Inspector's health and temper? At the moment, I don't think you'd mistake him for a ray of sunshine.
- Oh, dear.
- Hm.
He says there was only one person in the area.
Mavis.
One person with no alibi.
Mavis.
And that Mrs Chummy was strangled with an apron belonging to .
.
Mavis.
Although it is an unusual killer that takes the murder weapon home with them.
He claims she wasn't in her right state of mind.
For years, she's been begging to become an Orangecoat.
But Mrs Chummy would only ever use her as a maid.
I suspect the sheer frustration caused her to snap.
I see.
Yes, I imagine that is a nightmare of the Inspector's -- the downtrodden workers overthrowing their tyrannical bosses.
You've got to admit, though, Father, until we find the tape that the killer used, we've not really got much to go on.
I've got a horrible feeling the Inspector may get his way with this one.
Although, we do have an advantage over the Inspector.
- And what's that? - Our ability to listen.
I didn't do it.
I didn't like Mrs Chummy, but why would I want to throttle her? Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm her? We both saw that Grim Reaper earlier.
We've had all sorts of pranks.
Funny noises over the tannoy, a dummy of Mrs Chummy with a knife sticking out of it.
How long has this been going on? Oh, about two weeks.
Is there anybody who might have born a grudge against her? I can think of one.
For the past few weeks, Sandy's been looking after a stray cat, Kitty.
But then it went missing.
Darling, I told you before, pets are not permitted.
I gave you an ultimatum to get rid of it.
- How could I do that? - I don't know.
Down a well, possibly.
Anyway, you won't need to worry about it now.
Do you know where she is? As I say, you won't need to worry.
If you've hurt a single hair on that animal's head, I'll What happened? I dropped my bucket and Mrs Chummy told me to sling my hook, so Why frame you for the murder? Is there any reason why someone might bear you ill will? I don't think so.
I just do my best to keep my head down, keep going.
Am I going to hang for this, Father? I will do all I can to prevent it.
So, how is she, Father? Not good.
I think she has survived her whole life on hope -- and reserves are running dry.
I need to get back to the camp.
Well, I've got the day off and a full tank of petrol.
Good.
Let's go and see a man about a cat.
Please.
Take a seat.
Oh, this is very Small.
I was going to say cosy.
Were you fond of Mrs Chummy? Yeah, I thought she was amazing.
It takes a special type of person to create their own magical world.
Someone who is utterly driven, and will stop at nothing to get what they want? I don't know what do you mean.
Well .
.
you were overheard having an argument with Mrs Chummy, about something that had been taken away.
Oh, no.
It's not like that.
I Are you all right? I just I think I'm going to Bless you.
A very violent sneeze, Sergeant.
I'm sorry, Father.
I couldn't help myself.
Are you perhaps allergic to certain animals? Oh, sorry.
I forgot to mention.
Here, Kitty.
- Kitty.
- Aw! Kitty came to live with me and Mrs Chummy found out and confiscated it to teach me a lesson.
But I just said, "If you've done anything to hurt my cat, "I shall resign.
" What did she say to that? She said, "Just keep it out of my sight "and don't get any hairs on your uniform.
" So If you stood up to Mrs Chummy, then she respected you.
It's only if you were a bit weak, she tended to bully you.
Who in particular did she bully? W You know, if I had to say someone, it'd be Jock.
He does his best, but he does get in a bit of a muddle.
And, yeah, she really used to pick on him.
You don't really think it could be Jock, do you, Father? I mean, he seems like he's in a world all of his own.
Unless it's all an act.
And that's the way to do it! That's the way to do it! Mr McCudgeon? What is it? - Sorry.
- May we have a word? Oh, yes.
Father Green, was it? Near enough.
Wanted to have a word with you about Mrs Chummy -- as you'd known her longer than anyone else.
Oh, for more years than I care to remember.
I was in variety with her husband.
When they opened the camp, I was only too happy - to come and help out.
- Mm.
Although, you didn't look too happy at the knobbly knees competition.
Yes, well, I was concerned about some safety issues.
Mrs Chummy asked to have a word with you.
Afterwards, you were very distressed.
You were late on stage for the cabaret.
Well, I was distressed.
Sometimes, Mrs Chummy over-reacts a little.
And what do you think you were doing? I was concerned the podium was too close to the pool.
I did not want an accident.
Oh, there's an accident every time you step on the stage.
It's the biggest day of my life, and you've spoiled it! No, that is most unfair.
I've worked hard for you all these years.
And now you're a liability.
When tonight's festivities are over, I want you out! Oh, how pretty! Look! Oh, what fun! Yes.
That does sound like an over-reaction.
She was just a bit anxious about this morning.
She would have changed her mind by this evening.
Anxious about what in particular? Well, the pranks.
The anniversary.
Seeing old faces.
And old memories.
What sort of memories? Ah, the children! My audience! It's time for my 12 o'clock performance! 12 o'clock? It's 3:30! So, could he have killed her in order to keep his job? Or to keep a secret.
That's the way to do it! That's the way to do it! Oh-ho-ho-ho! Where are we going, Father? Dream Cottage.
Mrs Chummy's house.
The headquarters of the operation.
You know, I've always wondered how you gain access to so many crime scenes.
Have you? Ah, well, perhaps you should look away now.
This is very nice.
I'm clearly in the wrong job.
So, what are you looking for, Father? The story of Chummy's.
Or rather, the story that Mrs Chummy .
.
doesn't want told.
Photograph album.
It's their honeymoon.
In Nice.
Strange thing to keep in a locked drawer.
Indeed.
Employment records.
Jock McCudgeon.
20 years.
No complaints.
And yet, Mrs Chummy seemed very keen to let him go.
This is a letter from a theatre manager, Mr Parnell, asking about the availability of Griff Grimshaw to appear at the London Palladium.
A very prestigious venue.
And this is a follow-up letter, written a few days later.
"Dear Mrs Chummy, "thank you for warning me about Mr Grimshaw.
"No, we cannot afford to have a drunken layabout "in our company.
"I have cancelled his contract forthwith.
" When was that dated? Just over two weeks ago.
Mr Grimshaw? There's no sign of him, Father.
Whoa! Hi-ho, Silver! Mr Grimshaw? May we have a word? Well, I'll do my best.
But it's quite hard to control this thing.
I wanted to talk to you about Mrs Chummy.
Ah, yes.
I can't believe she's dead.
I never knew anyone so alive.
Will you stop that?! You do know I could have you arrested for common assault? Me or the ostrich? I gather she wasn't the most encouraging of employers.
Oh, no.
She was always encouraging us to try hard, do our best for the place.
Mr Grimshaw, for entertainers like you, Chummy is the first rung on the ladder to success.
Unless Mrs Chummy snatched the ladder away.
What are you talking about? A six-week show at the London Palladium, which would have starred a comedian called Griff Grimshaw.
Only, Mrs Chummy said he wasn't suitable.
She did a bit more than that, you know! She wrote to them.
She told them what a useless drunk I was.
Well, not so useless that I couldn't phone the secretary and find out what was going on! That must have made you very angry.
Well, I didn't exactly jump for joy.
And how did your anger express itself, Mr Grimshaw? I played one or two practical jokes.
Nothing serious.
I swapped a few records around.
Didn't you make a dummy with a knife sticking into it? OK, well, I thought it seemed quite amusing at the time, but I didn't, you know - So, who did? - Well, how should I know? She was always picking on people.
Jock, and poor old Mavis.
She took away her dream job.
She told her, "You'll never be an Orangecoat again.
" Again? Well, it was a long time ago.
When Mr McCudgeon became confused, he still imagined you were an Orangecoat.
He was calling for you, wondering why you weren't on duty.
We were by the pool.
And earlier, in the exhibition, I noticed that the pool had been filled in for some years.
Why? I try not to think about it.
There was a little boy and he got separated from his parents, and he went to the pool.
It was being cleaned at the time, but he He couldn't read the sign saying keep out.
So he went in.
And he couldn't swim.
No-one saw him till it was too late.
What was your role in all this, Mavis? I was in charge of first aid.
I knew how to give the kiss of life.
Only, I'd I'd just met a very nice man .
.
and he'd asked me back to his chalet.
I was only gone an hour.
But I was too late.
Was there a cover-up? They did everything to keep the place open, keep it out of the papers.
They? Mrs Chummy and Uncle Jock.
- Ah, hello! - Father Brown? You know we're having a talent show later? - Oh! - Er, maybe you should rest your vocal cords for Mass tomorrow, Father.
Of course.
I wonder where I might find Mr McCudgeon? Oh, he's just getting changed.
Er, can I leave Mr McCudgeon to you, Father? I need to find the Inspector and Mrs Goodfellow.
We're watching the big show together.
I'll see you there.
Mr McCudgeon? Hello! Mr McCudgeon? How do you do? Will you be disappearing? Oh, no, no, no.
This is a new trick.
I shall be performing it tonight with young Griff.
The show about Chummy memories.
Not all of them happy.
The boy who drowned in the swimming pool.
Why do you bring that up? Because everything that has happened today is connected to that tragedy.
Do you remember his name? It was Jimmy? Timmy? No, sorry, it's gone.
But I remember his face and the terrible feeling I could do nothing for him.
Where were you when it happened? At the other end of the camp.
I heard the screams, I came running, and there was Mrs Chummy, screaming for Mavis instead of doing something to help the child.
Poor boy was floating.
I pulled him from the water, but .
.
it was too late.
There must have been a coroner's inquest? I told them Mavis had nothing to do with it.
She was detained looking after another child.
Then they asked me about Mrs Chummy and why she hadn't dived in and saved him.
I presume you told them she couldn't swim? How do you know? Photographs, secreted in Mrs Chummy's house, of her honeymoon.
Swimming in the sea at Nice.
If they had become public, Mrs Chummy would have been charged with negligence and you would have spent time in prison for perjury.
I'm not proud of what I did.
I only did it to keep this place going.
Billy! That was his name.
Billy Fairfield.
Five-minute call! Thank you.
The show must go on.
Hello, everybody.
It's so sweet to see so many old faces.
But tonight's show is all about the lady who made this place happen.
Dear Mrs Chummy .
.
who welcomed us all to her Island of Dreams.
We're all chums at Chummy's Loyal to the end Come here as a stranger And you'll go home as a friend When you come to Chummy's All your dreams come true So come, come, come to Chummy's We're waiting here for you.
Of course! Will you excuse me? Excuse me.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Thank you.
Mr Beauchamp, may I have a word? Er, yeah.
How did you make those flowers appear? A magician never tells.
No, of course.
In the radio studio, after Mrs Chummy's death, someone made a tape disappear.
And watching you tonight, I think I know who.
- No.
- Oh, Mrs Chummy.
I Just take some deep breaths.
You'll be all right.
There must be a homicidal maniac about! You used Mavis' consternation as a distraction to take away a vital piece of evidence.
I don't know what you're talking about.
And all for a boy named Billy Fairfield.
I presume he was your brother? You see, if you translate Fairfield into French, it becomes Beauchamp.
And you must have needed a new name to come and work here.
Tell me, what's your real name? Andrew.
Andrew Fairfield.
Tell me about your brother, Andrew.
Billy was kind.
And he was funny.
And people used to say he was simple.
Slow learning.
But I loved him more than anyone.
We came here as a family, and I'd never seen him so happy.
But then he wandered off.
And everyone said, "Don't worry, "this is the safest place in the world.
" I cannot imagine the pain you and your parents suffered.
They never got over it.
They died last year.
50 years old.
They looked 100.
So now it was up to you to find out the truth.
I came here to work.
But I only wanted one thing.
I-I wanted to ask you something.
Oh, yes? Is it true, er, a boy once drowned in the swimming pool? Oh, dear.
Who's been putting poison in your delicate little ears? One of the visitors.
Well, it was a long time ago.
H-How could it happen with so many people on duty? Well, Mavis should have been there, but she'd just met a carpet salesman from Droitwich.
And I'd had a long day.
But the thing is, he was abnormal.
Mentally defective.
It was a blessing in disguise for the poor family.
I know she didn't kill him.
But she didn't care.
And that's enough.
So now you had two people to blame.
Oh, cooey! You took Mavis' apron and went to the radio studio and prepared to kill two birds with one stone.
And now you want me to tell the police? To save Mavis' life? I want you to save your own soul.
You love your brother, and if you want to be with him in heaven .
.
you need to do the right thing.
You need to give up all thoughts of revenge.
No.
I made Billy a promise -- to punish anyone who failed him or who lied about what happened.
Right, then! Now we place Uncle Jock into the cabinet of death! Are you all right in there, Uncle Jock? I think so! Get on with it? It's a very tight squeeze.
Stop! I think you should put down that sword.
It's OK, Father.
This thing's retractable.
Right, then.
Here it goes.
Straight through the heart.
- Are you all right? - I'm fine.
It's not the first time I've died on stage.
Help! Get me out of here! Can anyone tell me what's going on? This young man can.
And I would ask you to listen to him without prejudice.
Well, well.
The garden's looking rather splendid, Father.
Well, I think on balance there's more alive than dead.
But I'll be glad when Mrs McCarthy returns.
Ah, look who it is! Sergeant.
Father Brown.
Mavis Jug.
How nice to see you.
Oh, it's nice just to be out in the daylight.
I thought I was going to be stuck in that cell forever.
And yet, here you are.
And I notice I know! It's like a dream come true.
Congratulations.
Hey, how did you manage it? Well, you know Mrs Chummy didn't have any children? It turns out she's left the holiday camp to her entire staff.
So Griff is going to take over as head entertainer.
And, oh, Jock is going to carry on living with us.
But I don't think he's up to performing any more.
But we'll look after him.
That's very kind.
And I wish you all the best in your endeavours.
Thank you.
Oh! And we've got a talent show next week, so if either of you want to give us a turn.
Well, I do know one or two musical songs.
Well, go on, then.
List to me, while I tell you, of the Spaniard that blighted my life Fa-la-la List to me, while I tell you, of the man who stole my future wife 'Twas at the bullfight that we met him We were watching his daring display While I just nipped outside for some nuts and a programme The dirty dog stole her away He will die He will die He will die-diddly-die-die-die He shall die He shall die I'll raise a bunion on his Spanish onion When I catch him bending tonight!