Murder Is Easy (1982) Movie Script

Oh, thank you.
Oh, you're so kind.
Thank you. -Sure, here we go. -I
was so afraid I was going to miss it.
I meant to go on up this morning.
But then, of course, the morning train
would have been crowded,
what with the derby.
You wouldn't happen to know
which horse won?
The derby?
Oh, let me think.
I've been so upset
with this dreadful business.
Maybe Jujube?
Jujube the Second?
I don't think it was Jujube.
They said he hadn't a chance.
My computer says he does. I've
programmed all the variables:
the jockey, the horse, the
track conditions, everything.
And each time, it came up
the same: Jujube.
I'm sorry.
I do get carried away. Probably
don't know what I'm talking about.
You make it sound so exciting.
But I'm sure an old
muddlehead like me
couldn't begin to grasp
anything about computers.
Oh, sure you could.
Ah, you see, it's only
a question of probabilities.
Now look, imagine you have
a jigsaw puzzle,
only some of the pieces
are missing.
All right,
take the pieces you have
and you feed them
into the computer,
remembering that
the pieces are numbers.
And then the computer
will tell you
what the missing pieces
probably look like.
Oh, then it isn't a matter
of absolute certainty?
If it were,
I'd be rich.
I'm sure you do very nicely
with your winnings.
Huh? Oh, oh, the derby?
Uh, no, no, you see,
I did that just for fun.
I'm a researcher at MIT,
near Boston. Um...
I'm Luke Williams,
by the way.
And I'm Lavinia Fullerton.
I gather you're on holiday.
Yes, yes, this is my first tour of
Europe, and I am beginning to see
what it is
I have been missing.
Ah, you could develop
other passions, then.
Just as well, perhaps.
You know,
Alexander Pope says,
One master-passion
in the breast,
like Aaron's serpent,
swallows up the rest.
Essay on Man.
Epistle... one.
Epistle two.
It's hard being alone,
I know.
Of course,
I do have Wonky Pooh.
My cat, you see.
But he's had
such a painful ear lately.
And he was missing this morning.
I simply couldn't leave
until he was found.
Now, why are we stopping?
I'm so late as it is.
Well, I don't
see anything.
Well, I can only hope
they don't keep
usual office hours
at Scotland Yard.
Uh, Scotland Yard?
Oh, I'm sure
it's safe to tell you.
You see, our constable
at Wychwood
is used to dealing
with traffic problems
and even with dogs
who foul the footways.
But I feel certain
he is just not the man
to deal with...
Well, with murder.
Oh, yes.
After the third time,
one knows.
Three murders?
At least three
I know of.
It's the look, you see.
That terrible, mad look
on the killer's face
before striking.
I saw it first
with Major Horton's wife,
and she died.
And then there was
Harry Carter
and Tommy Pierce.
And I feel certain
that Dr. Humbleby will be next.
And the terrible thing is
that if I told him,
he wouldn't believe me.
Nor would our constable.
But at Scotland Yard...
Now you're sure
I can't help you
find a cab,
just to get into London?
No, thank you.
It's quite all right.
Oh, look,
that's your horse.
Oh, wait'll Jimmy sees that.
Well, I must be off.
It's such a pleasure.
Thank you.
Um, uh, pardon me,
Miss... Miss Fullerton?
Oh, Professor Williams,
it's enough to know
that you actually wrote it.
I couldn't think
of taking it from you.
It's dedicated
to my Aunt Mary,
and she never even saw it.
In that case,
I shall treasure it.
Um, Miss Fullerton?
A-about this
murder business...
You know, at first I feared
you didn't believe me.
Well... Well, think of it
in terms of... Of...
Well, probabilities.
Now, it'd be pretty tough
for someone to try
and get away
with all those murders.
Oh, forgive me,
but that's where
you're in error.
You see,
the person in question
is just the last person
anyone would suspect.
And so long as
no one suspects you,
murder is easy.
Hey, Luke!
Welcome to London.
Jimmy, how are you?
Did you see
those derby results?
Did I see them?
I already have
a computer lined up
so that you can
pick me out a winner
during the Ascot meetings.
No, not me. This is
my first vacation in years.
I have no intention
of sitting in a computer room
and doing
the same thing...
If you could just
overlook this,
just this once,
because, um...
Jimmy, I can't help
but wonder... The curiosity...
I'm sorry
your Miss Fullerton
got herself applied
to the pavement like that,
and I really do think
it's terribly decent of you
to want to go
to the funeral.
But I have lined up
a couple
of absolute beauties.
One's got a yacht,
and I thought,
as you're no longer
involved with Nancy...
Yeah, but, Jimmy,
do you know why
I am no longer
involved with Nancy?
Because Nancy said to me
I was more involved
with my theories
than I was with her.
And other ladies
have said the same thing.
That's why you want
to go to the funeral?
It's just that this lady
got through to me,
and I'm very curious
about Dr. Humbleby.
Jimmy, look.
A lady is going
to Scotland Yard,
she is going to identify
a murderer,
and then she is killed.
Now that defies
the theory of probability.
Luke, you can't believe
her story.
This country is teeming
with these dotty old dears
full of direst imaginings.
They're a type.
Stout shoes,
capacious handbag.
Getting warm?
Probably had a budgerigar
as well, or a cat.
Wonky Pooh.
I rest my case.
Oh, all right,
I'll take you to your funeral
at Wychwood, then.
But I shall definitely
expect you to come up
with the Gold Cup winner
at the Royal Ascot for me.
"The beginning and the end.
"I will give unto him
that is athirst
"at the fountain
of the water of life freely.
"He that overcometh
shall inherit all things,
"and I will be his god
and he shall be my son."
And so the time has come
for us to say
our last goodbye
to our dear friend,
Lavinia Fullerton.
And indeed, you have all
been good friends to her.
Mr. Abbot,
who served her well
as a... A legal advisor
for many years.
Major Horton.
And you are remembering
today, I know, how...
How faithfully Miss Fullerton
attended your wife in...
In her last illness.
Mr. Ellsworthy.
Mr. Ellsworthy.
And Miss Waynflete,
of course. Heh.
how well I remember
you and Lavinia
as young ladies,
with Clarence Humbleby.
And with your father too,
Bridget, dear.
God rest his soul.
Ah, yes, certainly, of course.
Lord Easterfield,
always a fine friend
to all, I'm sure.
Hey, Jimmy,
will you slow down?
I wanna talk to them...
That old snob's
gaining on us.
Mr. Lorrimer.
Lord Easterfield.
So it was you
at the funeral.
Is Lady Barbara not with you?
How is she?
Oh, Mama is very well.
Splendid. Well,
come along to tea.
Oh, don't think
that's possible.
Nonsense. Of course it's possible.
It's perfectly possible.
I only just live...
Gordon, dear. Really,
you mustn't insist.
I'm Bridget Conway,
Lord Easterfield's secretary.
Jimmy Lorrimer.
And Luke Williams.
Mr. Lorrimer
is coming to tea.
Gordon, please.
I gather Miss Fullerton
was a friend.
Uh, no, actually,
we came to see somebody.
That's right.
A duty call for Mama, really.
An old acquaintance
of hers.
Fellow called Humbleby.
Dr. Humbleby?
Oh, dear.
Well, you're out of luck there.
Humbleby's dead.
And I feel certain
that Dr. Humbleby
will be next.
Now, come on.
I'm the expert on probability,
so don't tell me that Humbleby
just happened to drop dead
right on schedule.
I'm not leaving till I find out
what's going on around here.
Oh, very well.
But you can't simply
just waltz into a poky,
little English village
and start asking
questions all around.
You'll stick out
a mile.
We'll just have to try
and think
of some plausible reason
for your being here.
But don't expect me
to stay.
I knew you'd come
after all.
Tang dynasty,
I believe.
Aren't they all.
Well, it's too bad
about Dr. Humbleby.
Oh, Humbleby was a muddle-headed, old fool.
That means he disagreed with Gordon.
Well, he would oppose me
on the question
of our water supply.
If only he'd taken the trouble
to read my editorials
on the subject, but no.
Stubborn as a mule.
Now, Gordon,
I'm sure we're all
very sorry he's dead.
You have no reason
to grieve at any rate, my dear.
But you can't oppose
the will of providence.
Here's old Humbleby
gets a mere scratch,
and within three days,
he's dead of it.
I expect it had less
to do with providence
than with blood poisoning.
He simply neglected
his condition, that's all,
as doctors often do,
oddly enough.
I shan't say any more.
Couldn't bear Lady Barbara
to think ill of me.
Actually, Mama hardly
knew Dr. Humbleby.
It was Luke
that was so eager
to come to Wychwood,
wasn't it, Luke?
Was it really?
I must say, you don't
look like our usual
witchcraft enthusiast.
We get so few Americans.
Well, you've come
to the right place for it.
Of course, I think
all this witchcraft business
is rather absurd.
How did you know that I was, uh,
here to study witchcraft?
Oh, what else could
induce anyone
to come to Wychwood?
Oh, but Luke's thrilled.
Always been keen
on the stuff,
doing a book on, uh...
How's it go, Luke?
About death, anyway.
Uh, ha-ha. Well...
Ancient burial customs.
Of course, we were going to go on to Stonehenge,
for the druid festival,
but now I'm not certain.
Perhaps one should tarry.
I trust there are comfortable
lodgings in the village?
You'll stop here,
of course.
That's very handsome of you,
Lord Easterfield,
to take Luke in like that.
I shall be quite envious.
You're not staying?
Oh, Luke, don't forget
about Ascot.
Mama's got us places
in the Royal Enclosure.
The Royal Enclosure?
I say, I don't
suppose you'd...
You see, Mama's having
a little party afterwards.
I can't stay here.
No, anyway, so dreary, these parties.
All those crowned heads
elbowing one.
My dear boy,
of course he shall stay.
He must stay.
You'll stay.
That was
a very nice dinner.
All right, Avery, I'll lock up later.
You going up, Gordon?
Yeah, I've got to review
the article assignments,
but, uh, show Mr., uh...
To his room.
Thank you.
Gordon's so...
serious about his work.
He owns
a few weekly newspapers.
Well, he seems to know
what he's doing.
Oh, yes.
One's not made a lord
for nothing, you know.
He really is a man
of a great many gifts.
Except, perhaps,
in the aesthetics department.
Oh, there's no accounting
for taste, is there?
Well, they're all
rather... interesting.
is more like it.
But Gordon will redecorate.
He's renovated the whole place,
bit by bit,
since he took it over
from my family.
You don't mind?
Would it matter?
Anyway, it was
a long time ago.
They're Gordon's.
Perhaps they'll do till
your friend sends your things.
Oh, oh, sure.
It's fine, fine.
I like the room.
Used to be mine.
I'm down the hall now.
Oh, then,
you do live here?
I mean,
you're his secretary and...
And his fiance,
as well.
And now you're wondering
if it's usual
to live in the house
of one's fianc.
I'm sorry.
I have a big mouth.
I'm afraid you'll be
on your own tomorrow.
Gordon and I leave early
for London.
And so long asno one suspects you,
murder is easy.
What the hell are you doing?
Hop in.
No, thanks,
I sort of like being alive.
You're quite safe.
I never have accidents.
Decided to stay and help.
How's the research coming?
I was just
in the village,
and I learned something.
Village folk are
suspicious of strangers.
That's why you need my help.
I know, we'll simply say
you're my cousin,
all right?
Oh, please, I don't want
to bore you with all this.
Well, I expect
to be bored.
It's de rigueur.
I am in training
to be lady of the manor.
I gather there have been
several funerals lately.
Yes, it is rather odd,
so many accidents.
Let's see,
there was Harry Carter.
He was drowned in the river.
Owned the pub.
Naturally, Gordon said
he deserved it
for being not only a drunk,
but a socialist.
And Tommy Pierce
fell out of a window.
And Dr. Humbleby?
Fancy dying from a scratch.
Oh, of course,
Miss Fullerton.
Another accident.
Well, perhaps she doesn't count,
as she was killed in London.
By a reckless driver.
What are we doing back here?
I thought you were
going to help me.
Really, I don't understand
why you didn't come here
in the first place.
It's his own museum.
A hobby.
Miss Waynflete,
the curator,
knows absolutely
Miss Waynflete.
Miss Waynflete?
I've brought you
Luke Williams,
a sort of cousin
of mine.
Oh, oh, yes.
I saw you at poor Lavinia's
funeral, didn't I?
I've got
a dreadful cold.
Caught it from
my housemaid, Amy.
You should
take care of that.
I know,
but I wanted to take care
of this new exhibit instead,
though I can't see
what Lord Easterfield
had as in his mind.
But he's so keen
on modernizing.
He must have brought
these things
from that laboratory
he visited.
It made me quite shiver
just to hear him
describe it.
All those deadly germs
and cultures.
remember I mentioned
about Tommy Pierce?
This is the window
he fell from...
while cleaning it.
Luke is doing a book
on death rites
or something.
Witchcraft, anyway,
and I thought you might
be able to help him.
But how intriguing.
Yes, we've quite
a history that way,
goes back
to pre-Roman times.
Of course,
our most famous witch
was actually a warlock.
Oh, what was her name?
It was Harold, I think.
Miss Waynflete,
you should be home
in bed.
Don't you agree,
Yes, absolutely.
This can wait.
Yes, Tommy fell
from that window,
onto the flagstones there,
quite horrible.
And you found him?
No, it was Mr. Abbot,
the solicitor.
We'd all gone off
to the charity bazaar.
Remember, Bridget?
Poor Tommy.
I'm sorry to say
that no one liked him very much.
He was an infuriating,
little snoop.
I'm sure it was very good of Lord Easterfield
to keep him on after Tommy
was so impertinent to him.
Well, you know Gordon.
Such a pity.
Lord Easterfield's kindness
turning into tragedy like that.
You'll stay for tea.
Where is that girl?
I'll go.
Amy, we're wanting tea.
I'm afraid my housemaid
is quite a lazy girl.
Wasn't even up this morning
when I left.
Oh, you would love
to get at my little birds,
eh, Wonky Pooh?
"Wonky Pooh."
Lavinia asked me to watch him
the day she went to London.
He had a bad infection.
I can't find Amy anywhere.
Up to her old tricks again.
Gordon gave her no end of
lectures about staying out late.
You're sure she came home?
Oh, yes.
I was awakened
by a noise, very late.
She must be
in there.
It's that one there.
The little skylight.
That's it.
Oh, dear.
I do hope she's all right.
Perhaps she did it on purpose.
She was awfully torn up
about some love affair
a while back.
Come, you know Amy,
always several men
on a string.
In fact, she's just broken off
with Mr. Ellsworthy.
No sign of anything.
Tsk. Could you not
touch anything, sir.
It's only
a cough mixture.
I prescribed it myself.
Don't suppose you noticed
the, uh...
Needle marks on her arm,
Dr. Thomas.
I did manage
to notice them,
thank you very much,
Constable Reed.
I put them there myself.
Amy's cold would linger,
and I thought
she might be run down.
Took a blood sample.
But there must be a half dozen
marks on there, sir.
Amy had what's commonly called
"floating veins."
Always takes several tries
to insert the needle properly.
Embarrassing for you, sir,
all that stabbing about.
Still, we don't know
that she didn't make
one of those marks herself,
do we?
What are you suggesting,
Drugs, miss.
It's a common problem
these days.
Really, constable,
I'm something of an expert
on narcotics.
If Amy were an addict,
I believe I'd have known.
Always a first time, eh?
Now, Miss Waynflete,
I understand she frequented
rock concerts in London.
Oh, well, that's
proof positive, isn't it?
Rock concerts.
REED: Please, miss!
Mustn't touch things.
How very odd.
So white.
Not at all
a flattering shade for Amy.
Care to have a look, sir?
Dreadful business,
these drugs.
Still, I expect it's just
routine for you, isn't it, sir?
You being an American.
Love your squad car.
I wonder...
what's the probability
of five people dying suddenly
in a town of this size?
Six, counting Amy.
And I wonder what all this
has to do
with your study
on witchcraft.
I want a straight answer, Luke.
Why did you really come here?
Heel! Heel!
Heel, Nero.
Heel, Nero.
You must be joking.
I mean, who would want
to murder all those people?
I don't know,
but Miss Fullerton did,
and that is why she's dead.
She said the guy was crazy.
Perhaps it was one
of your warlocks at work.
All right, all right.
How was I to know
that warlocks were male witches?
Let's hope that Miss Waynflete
is not as sharp as you are.
She's sharp enough to be
suspicious about Amy anyway.
So, what are we saying?
That some man doped Amy
and then planted the compact
to make it appear
as if she overdosed?
But how did he get
into the room?
The door was locked
from the inside.
Any fairly strong man
could have got in
through that window,
as you did.
Wait, wait, wait.
Wait. Amy knows the guy,
she brings him home,
he kills her,
he leaves the compact,
and then he goes out
the window.
Ah, but...
why the compact?
Why not a syringe?
We already lost Harry Carter
off this bridge.
Unless he was pushed.
Oh, this whole thing
is so bizarre, I mean,
I've lived all my life here.
If there really is a killer
and he really is mad,
then I should have some idea.
there is a killer.
And if we don't do something,
he's gonna go right on killing.
Of course.
Come on, Luke.
Come on.
No, no.
I have a few amulets and such,
for the tourists, of course.
Mr. Ellsworthy.
Yes, yeah. I've just got in
a few Oriental things.
Perhaps you'd be good enough
to tell his lordship,
Miss Conway.
I shall.
What is that?
It's a bong. Used for smoking hash.
You may be the only soul
in Wychwood who would know that.
Yes, this one's quite old.
It's possibly 19th century.
Must have been the sort of affair
that Coleridge
would have used.
No, no.
Coleridge used opium.
Very different sort of thing
to hashish.
Xanadu, you know.
Divine madman, Coleridge,
thanks to opium.
Sanity's such a bore,
don't you think?
I mean, it...
It takes a touch of madness
to see life through a new
and... entrancing angle.
At least, so one imagines.
I know very little about
the artistic temperament.
Oh, you're too modest, Mr. Ellsworthy.
Those sketches you did
of Amy Gibbs
were really very good.
Yes, well, uh,
Amy would make a very pretty
subject for anyone.
You think so?
I've always found her
rather common.
Certainly not the sort
to whom a man
would want to lose his heart.
She'd be sure to break it,
wouldn't she?
Yes, yes,
I... I suppose that's so.
Bridget, what a thing to say
about poor Amy.
After all, she's dead.
He was in love with Amy,
and he knows enough about dope
to kill someone with it.
And he's not very well-liked.
And that's all I know
about Ellsworthy,
except that he's generally
pretty weird.
Oh, that's brilliant,
Professor Williams,
they're all pretty weird,
except Bridget.
Okay. Now let's look at
the victim for a minute. Amy.
She was young and pretty,
she was a man-chaser,
she was unreliable.
Bridget said she worked here
until Easterfield
got in a hassle with her.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
What about Easterfield?
He also had a hassle
with Dr. Humbleby and Tommy.
Tsk. No, no.
No, it's just too improbable.
Come on, think.
Gotta do better than this.
People are getting killed.
Miss Waynflete?
Oh, Mr. Williams!
Oh, how frightful!
Oh, I must be mad!
Do you know,
I saw you there in the window,
and I took it into my head
you were going to fall.
It's all right.
You must think me an imbecile.
You're much stronger
than you look.
Please, Miss Waynflete,
please, please sit down.
Don't cry.
Oh, no, I shan't.
I've seen it so often
in my mind, you know,
Tommy going over.
And with...
With Amy and everything...
Oh, dear.
It's all right.
You've come about
your research, of course.
And I do have
some things for you.
Uh, Miss Waynflete.
We have to talk.
Poor Lavinia.
Did she say who the killer is?
No. No, she didn't.
But I think
you have some idea.
Miss Waynflete.
The day Miss Fullerton
was killed,
do you remember anything at all
about that day, anything unusual? -No.
Well, let me think.
Lavinia came by with Wonky Pooh
and asked me to watch him,
and of course I agreed, as I was
just by the fire all that day anyway.
I was coming down
with this cold, you know?
And Amy was in bed
with her cold.
Oh, yes.
Dr. Humbleby came by to look
in on her in the late afternoon.
Dr. Humbleby, not Dr. Thomas?
No, Dr. Thomas was away that
day, at the derby, I believe.
They sometimes treated
one another's patients.
And Clarence... Dr. Humbleby,
you know... He said:
"I might as well have a look
at that ear
of Wonky Pooh's as well."
That was like him.
Such a nice man.
Oh, dear.
That must have been the last
time I ever saw him alive.
Well, should you decide
to tell me who you suspect...
Yes, I'll think on it.
And thank you for coming to me.
It's a relief to know
it isn't just me.
That I'm not crazy
or growing senile quite yet.
Senile? No, I wouldn't worry
about that for decades yet.
It's I.
Quite plain, even then.
But youth is everything,
isn't it?
Who's the man?
Why, it's Gordon, you know.
My family was so scandalized
when we became engaged.
You were engaged
to Lord Easterfield?
Long ago.
Long before
he was Lord Easterfield.
Such a promising boy.
I was so proud of his spirit,
his determination.
Age does things to people,
Mr. Williams.
perhaps my family were wrong.
Your things, sir.
Thanks. A drink?
From a colleague in Greece.
Where is his lordship,
by the way?
Oh, he'll be in town very late
putting his paper to bed.
Gordon's a very hard worker.
Rather admirable, I think.
In fact,
he's away much of the time.
it must get kind of lonely.
It's the price I pay
for the freedom
to do whatever I want.
Wonder if it's worth it.
Are you asking me?
No, no, I've, uh, been asking
myself that lately.
Um, you see, I'm...
I'm kind of at the crossroads.
I've spent my whole life
in the academic world,
and I love it.
It's a safe retreat,
and I... I get to do exciting
and interesting work,
and nobody bothers me.
No hassles,
no trivial details.
And no human contact.
Yes, well, that never...
That never used to bother me,
ah, before,
but, uh...
There is this man
in my department,
his name is Harry Ludwig.
He's about 50 years old.
You say "hi" to him,
he's stuck for an answer.
But, Luke, that's him,
it's not you.
Oh, well, not yet, anyway.
In any case, I, uh...
I have been offered a job
with a consulting firm
in Washington.
I have to confess,
it offers some...
Some really exciting challenges.
But, um...
I'd have to deal
with people all the time.
I mean, in, like,
the company and...
And the government.
No more nice, safe,
theoretical stuff.
And which will you choose?
Supposedly, I am on vacation
in order to make up my mind
and so far, I have done a
pretty good job of avoiding it.
Sometimes I think I'm doing
a pretty good job
of avoiding life altogether.
Ashe Manor is my retreat,
just as the university is yours.
No more gloom and doom.
The probability theory would
show that we will both survive.
What's probability theory?
Merely a method of deciding
which event is most likely
under any given set
of circumstances.
For example:
If you keep looking
the way that you do,
the probability is,
oh, roughly 0.9
that I will forget
you're someone else's fiance.
I see.
In that case, we'd better
change the circumstances.
It is after 11.
And they say sin
becomes rampant after 11.
Yes, it was.
Just over the line.
Criminal insanity.
That will be the verdict
for one of your witches
these days, Mr. Williams.
You think so,
Mr. Abbot?
Well, of course,
legal insanity
is difficult to define,
when even the most
dangerous lunatic
may seem just like
the next bloke.
Oh, he may feel
that he has lots of enemies,
but who doesn't, what?
Interesting how easy
it can be to murder a person,
if you're clever.
You're probably experienced
in that.
Oh, no, no. I'm afraid
my work's just the dull stuff:
wills, investments.
there's been no murders here
for as long
as anyone remembers,
eh, Bridget?
Unless someone finally
finished off Tommy Pierce.
That moron.
Drive a person mad.
Tommy the one that drowned?
No, no, no.
That was that idiot
Harry Carter,
drowned in the river.
That can't have been good
for the water supply.
I say, that's very good.
Wish I'd thought of it.
Fancy old Humbleby's face
if I told him that.
Why, Miss Humbleby.
Happy you felt
like coming out.
I insisted.
She needs the diversion.
Miss Humbleby,
my condolences.
Did you get the autopsy results,
Dr. Thomas?
Amy died of opium derivatives.
But, I mean,
heroin's pretty expensive,
isn't it,
for a housemaid to afford.
That's just the tragedy of it.
The first time's always free.
Poor Amy.
Well, Amy always was
too headstrong for her own good.
Hello, everyone.
Right, who's for doubles?
Come on, we'll challenge
Bridget and Mr....
I'm not really up to it.
Nonsense, Rose.
Do you good.
Hey, nice shot, kid.
Are you all right?
Just play, will you?
Please, Bridget,
you must wait until I'm ready.
All right, Gordon, dear?
Double fault.
My game and set.
It's not bad,
although I say it myself.
Well, played, Mr., uh...
Better luck next time, eh?
I say, eh, major?
Fancy another game?
Why'd you do that?
You gave him the set.
Don't be absurd.
My game simply went to pieces.
It happens, you know?
No. Not like that.
I mean, the first
double-fault of the day?
Yes, that was rather good.
You mean, you admit it?
Obvious, my dear Watson.
Well, what the hell for?
You're a good player.
Equally obvious,
I would have thought.
Gordon hates losing.
Well, terrific.
Maybe I don't like it either.
But then,
you're not
my bread and butter.
You're actually gonna marry
a creep like that for money?
Oh, I'll earn my keep
all right with Gordon.
Yes, if you don't mind
the job description.
He'll forget to kiss me
good night after a month.
Surely you can see
what a child he is.
And what a cold-blooded
gold digger you are.
Well, it's better than being
a hot-blooded fool.
You think I don't know
what it is to love a man?
Well, let me tell you
about my first fianc, Johnny.
I cared for him like hell,
and he threw me over
for a widow with three chins
and an income that makes
Gordon look like a pauper.
That sort of thing
rather cures one of romance,
don't you think?
Yes, I guess it could.
It did!
Well, good,
then maybe it'll cure me,
because I was beginning
to have some
pretty romantic
feelings about you.
Oh, really, Luke,
we've only just met.
Why don't you grow up
and behave like an adult?
I am. And that's why
I'm wrong for you,
since you're only hot
for children like Easterfield.
Come here, sir.
It must have been
very hard on you
when Mrs. Horton died.
But people were kind.
And Bridget came every day,
toward the end.
Brought down hothouse grapes
from Easterfield's.
That was awfully sporting
of Bridget,
swallowing her pride
that way.
she has plenty of that.
Well, my wife
was a wonderful woman,
but she did
snub Bridget terribly
after her father
lost his money.
Poor Bridget's had
rather a time of it.
Expect you know,
being her cousin.
Yes, well, she never
said much about it.
No, no. Well, she wouldn't,
would she?
But I still say
that idiot Humbleby
was the cause of it all.
Anyone could see
Bridget's father was dying,
but Humbleby insisted
he knew how to treat him.
Thought the poor girl
would go mad with grief
when he died.
Augustus! Heel, sir!
Heel, heel, heel!
Sweeney, Augustus!
Heel, sir!
Heel, heel, heel!
I, uh... I have to interview
Tommy Pierce's mother.
Can I buy you a drink?
Oh, no.
I'll not set foot
in Harry Carter's place,
even if he is dead
and gone to hell. Oh!
I don't think it's right,
his lordship
giving himself airs.
And it's not like
he were real gentry,
not like Miss Bridget
or Miss Waynflete.
Didn't I hear something
about...? Oh.
What was it?
Abbot and Amy Gibbs, uh...
Of course,
I'm never one to gossip.
I never have been,
but, um...
I always said
that Amy'd come to a bad end.
Think how it broke
poor Miss Bridget's heart,
Amy stealing her Johnny away,
the cheek of it.
And I'll admit,
it was naughty of Tommy,
laughing at Miss Bridget
over it, but...
Well, I think we'll all be happy
to see her as lady of the manor.
It's hers by right,
after all.
Uh, yes, that's interesting.
But, Mrs. Pierce,
did I hear you say
Amy stole Bridget's fianc?
But maybe Bridget's
covering up for Easterfield.
She is protective of him.
Oh, come on, Luke,
you have to face it.
She could have killed
either one of them for revenge.
Humbleby for letting
her father die.
Amy for stealing
her fianc, Johnny.
And don't forget,
she lied to you about that.
She said he left her
for a rich widow.
And what are you
gonna do about it, Luke?
I was hoping you were still awake.
So I could say that I'm sorry
about this afternoon.
Apology accepted.
And I wanted to say
I think you're making
a great mistake,
going for Easterfield
when you could have me.
But there's
no accounting for taste.
And I need your help.
You idiot.
I don't suppose any of this
could have waited till morning?
Oh, it could.
But I wanted to test
your reactions to stress.
How am I doing?
You pass.
Now, will you go somewhere
with me tomorrow?
I can do anything I want.
But now he's got the wind up about this,
what's to stop him
laying the blame on me?
Oh, Rivers, really!
You're blowing the thing
out of proportion.
Have I? Then you'll have no objection
to me telling him then,
will you?
You know what a temper he has.
He's after me all the time.
I don't like
being questioned!
Rivers, really,
it was nothing!
You needn't
concern yourself.
But he has to be told!
All right, Rivers!
I'll tell him.
But please be good enough
to let me do it in my own way.
Well, make it soon, Miss,
or I shall
tell him myself.
That would be
very foolish, Rivers.
Very foolish.
You're certain
that your friend Jimmy
said to come here?
You are so beautiful
when you're perplexed.
Come on.
Luke, what are we
doing here?
We, my dear,
are going to find out
who the killer really is.
You're joking.
No, I'm not.
We are going to get
the help we really need.
Now, if you will
just sit down.
After yesterday,
I decided it's
much too complicated
for us to figure out
by ourselves.
So I am going to program
everything we know
about the murders
into the computer,
and it is going to tell us
the name of the murderer.
You are joking.
Bridget, this is
my bread and butter.
It's just a question
of relative probabilities
if we program it properly.
here are the names
of the six victims.
What does it say?
LUKE: Well, it is asking
how the victims were killed,
and we don't know that
in all cases.
At least we know what killed them.
Do you ever stop
to think
how smart
the killer must be?
Killed every one of them
in a different way.
I know.
It's terrifying.
Now that's a toughie.
Better just input the classics
for now, and hope that we hit it.
You know:
lust, greed, fear.
What else?
That means who was
in the right place
at the right time,
I suppose?
But there's no way
to know that.
Except in the case
of Miss Fullerton.
Would you agree that
whoever killed Miss Fullerton
probably killed
all the others?
But how do you know
who could have killed her?
Because she was killed
on Derby Day,
and we now know
who was absent
from the village
on that day.
That's why you were
asking everyone
about the derby.
Oh, Luke, you are clever.
Our leading candidates.
First, Abbot,
the attorney, a womanizer.
probably the last person
to see Amy alive.
Major Horton,
whose wife died mysteriously.
And Dr. Thomas,
who knows all about drugs.
There must be others.
Well, I did check up on
a couple of other people.
There's me, of course.
I was in London that day too.
You mean
with Easterfield?
Sorry to disappoint you,
but I know where Gordon was,
but you don't know
where I was.
Bridget, I don't think
you understand.
I'm not keeping a list
on everybody in Wychwood,
you know.
Just those I have
every reason to suspect.
Thought perhaps
you did suspect me.
You said I was a
"cold-blooded gold digger."
Why not a cold-blooded killer?
Hey, I said I was sorry.
And after last night...
That's why I want you
to be sure.
I guess you think
I'm playing
some stupid little game
or something.
I happen to believe
in this stuff,
and I'm very
damn good at it.
I'm sorry.
It just all seems
so fantastic to me.
No, no, no!
You want your name in,
I'll put your name in, okay?
Now, we're ready.
At least, I am.
Are you?
For what?
To find out who the killer is.
Are you ready?
Oh, Luke.
Cheers. Thank you.
Boy, if you could have seen
the look on her face
when her name popped up
on that computer. Hm.
And I thought Gordon
was a child.
Really, Luke, you have
a most peculiar
sense of humor.
That'll teach you
to make fun of my work.
And why shouldn't I?
After all that,
your marvelous computer
still couldn't come up
with the name
of the real killer.
Am I to understand
that I have put
the entire resources of Oxford
University at your disposal
so that you can play a joke
on this poor girl?
It's not a joke, Jimmy.
Do you mean to say
Bridget's the murderer?
I don't know anything
for sure.
I just know that I had
some pretty good reasons
for suspecting her, so I...
I thought that if I...
If I had her name flash
on that screen,
she'd come unglued,
she'd tell me everything. I...
I'm beginning
to remember now
why I don't get involved
with people.
Look here,
old friend.
You've got to give up
all this sleuthing nonsense
and go to the authorities.
I'm in love with her.
Well done.
But if you know
she's guilty...
I don't know anything for sure.
Right now,
it's all speculation.
Yes, but what if she is?
I don't know.
But I am going to have a talk
with the one woman
who really knows the truth.
Who is it?
Miss Waynflete,
it's Luke Williams.
Oh, Mr. Williams.
Someone tried to kill me.
On my way home,
I stopped
to give those petunias
a bit of water.
I was simply standing here
when this thing
whizzed past my head
from up there.
I didn't dare touch it.
You didn't tell anyone?
Oh, I was so frightened,
I went straight home.
RIVERS: get away from you. I don't blame her.
Don't tell lies to me, Rivers.
You ungrateful lout.
You're fired. Fired!
Do you understand?
What's more,
you're going to regret this.
Don't worry! I'm off!
And it's you who are
going to regret this.
You, you stupid idiot!
Honoria, I'm sorry you should have to witness
such a disgraceful scene,
but that man!
what on earth's happening?
It's nothing, my dear.
I've just dismissed Rivers.
Gordon, what happened?
What did he say to you?
Nothing, my dear,
that need be repeated.
Just a pack of filthy lies.
How dare he talk
to me like that!
Now, Gordon,
you really must try
not to get upset.
Something very serious
shall happen to that young man,
you mark my words.
Yes, yes, Gordon,
I'm sure it will.
Oh, Luke!
Luke, what is wrong
with you?
Nothing, nothing
is wrong anymore,
and that's the wonderful part.
I love you,
and everything is okay now.
Luke, will you wait a moment?
You've got me so confused,
I can't think.
All right. You'll just
take one thing at a time.
Number one is that I love you.
Number two, I've been absolutely
wrong about everything.
I really do know
who the murderer is now.
She knew?
Miss Waynflete knew?
It doesn't matter,
because I know now.
It's Ellsworthy.
Yes, yes.
I will explain
all of this to you later,
but right now
I have to see the constable.
Luke, wait.
Maybe you're wrong
about Ellsworthy.
No. No, I know
what I'm doing.
May I borrow your car?
Oh, uh, I'd take care
of Miss Waynflete,
if I were you.
She's a little shook up.
And I really do love you.
You don't believe
a word of it.
REED: Mr., uh...
Williams, isn't it? -Yes.
Well, Mr. Williams, I do
appreciate your concern.
And it's a colorful story,
heaven knows.
But you see, sir, here in
England, we really do prefer
something in the nature
of solid evidence
before we go
about arresting people.
"Solid evidence"?
What do you call that?
I saw it in Ellsworthy's shop.
Yeah, well,
it certainly is, uh...
Certainly solid, at any rate,
isn't it, sir?
And no end of fingerprints,
I'll wager.
But how can you ignore...?
Evidence, Mr. Williams,
that's all I ask.
Real evidence.
I've come to tell the truth.
Oh, Luke! Thank God
you're all right!
What are you doing here?
I told you not to come.
Oh, Luke, thank God
you're all right.
I saw Ellsworthy coming back,
and I... I thought...
Hey, it's all right.
It's okay.
It's all right.
Hey, hey, hey,
hey, hey, hey, hey.
Maybe I ought to go
back inside.
Oh, this is
no time for jokes,
I thought he might have
killed you.
You've won, you know.
What have I won?
If you really want me.
If I really want you?
-Luke, listen.
If you knew what I have done
simply out of pride.
I've let the past rule me,
as if Wychwood were the world.
I don't want to be
lady of the manor, not really.
I just want love.
You got that.
From me.
I know.
I truly feel that.
That's why I want
to get right away from here,
before the past
overwhelms me completely.
Take me with you.
But I want to go right away.
You will come with me
to talk to Gordon, won't you?
You know what a temper he has.
Of course I'll come.
Aaah! Oh!
The chauffeur.
Struck down
by divine wrath.
A remarkable theory, Lord Easterfield.
Well, the Lord moves
in mysterious ways, you know.
Does he indeed, sir?
Well, how can you
doubt it?
Rivers abuses me,
and what happens?
Where is he now?
Gordon, please come
into the house with me.
The Word according
to Easterfield.
Yes, he's a riot,
isn't he?
Almost as funny as I am.
It's too bad Rivers
isn't alive to enjoy it.
Oh, I take you
quite serious now, sir.
Quite serious,
Except on one point.
is not your man.
Well, I saw
Ellsworthy's hands.
They were covered
with blood.
Ah, it was you who broke
into his shop last night.
I expect he'll be lodging
a complaint against you,
once his hand clears up.
He, uh, cut it, you know,
changing a tire.
Outside the, uh,
Witches' Head Inn.
Plenty of witnesses to it.
Then Ellsworthy couldn't
have done it.
This might be interesting
to you, by the way.
The CID tell me
that the car
that killed Miss Fullerton
has now been identified.
It was a large maroon car,
A man in the crowd phoned
last night...
and gave the license number.
He hadn't actually seen it,
you understand,
but the woman beside him had,
so she gave him the number.
Only he wasn't sure
he had it right.
Did he or didn't he?
But the chauffeur
had an alibi,
and the car...
belongs to one
of the gentry, so...
that was that.
sometimes it's difficult to see
what's right under your nose.
But you said
the chauffeur had an alibi.
On Derby Day, he drove
his charge to London,
but then he was given
the afternoon off.
And when the car
was returned...
it had a damaged
front bumper.
How do you know
all this?
He was asked to fix
the bumper... on the sly.
Which, being a loyal sort,
he did.
And when he was
he lied,
being a loyal sort.
But I don't see...
Please, please,
Mr. Williams.
You're missing the best part.
When, uh, despite his loyalty,
he was dismissed,
he came straight
and told all.
Poor bloke,
he had no notion
of any connection
with Miss Fullerton's death.
He thought the car
had been in an accident
which had gone unreported.
It was...
Uh, be at the station
at midday.
Luke, what did he
tell you?
Nothing you don't
already know.
Please believe,
I didn't really know.
Not for certain.
I kept hoping
it wasn't Gordon.
But it is?
Why did you listen
to your family?
Why didn't you
just marry him anyway?
No, you don't understand.
I would have defied them.
I would have defied
the world.
Oh, it all sounds so absurd.
You see, I had a little
pet canary, Moonlight,
and Gordon...
Gordon couldn't bear it,
that I could love anything else,
even a little bird.
And one day,
he just snatched him
away from me...
and wrung his neck.
Right before my eyes.
And, uh...
And that was when you broke off
the engagement.
I could never forget
how he seemed to enjoy it.
But the years passed and...
And I never saw him
do anything like that again.
Oh, he was always hot-tempered
and proud, but...
Then these accidents
began happening.
And he began to talk about
divine justice and retribution.
He raved on and on to me
about how people had to be
punished for their sins
against him.
That's what he said
about Rivers.
Oh, Mr. Williams,
I haven't known what to do.
I've thought a hundred times
of trying to talk
to Bridget,
to warn her somehow.
But you see how
that would seem to her.
Well, you don't have to worry
about it anymore,
because they're on to him now.
And besides, Bridget has
already decided to leave him.
Leave him?
Oh, heavens.
We've got to get her away.
Don't you see
what he might do?
That fool Avery.
Ellsworthy brought these
days ago.
I've been most anxious
to see them.
Lovely, isn't it?
Now, where's the other one?
There was to have been a pair.
Gordon, I feel so ashamed.
You're taking the news so well.
You've every right
to be furious with me.
Now, isn't that a beauty?
Perfect workmanship.
And what an edge.
Oh, hello, Honoria.
I expect you've heard. Bridget's
decided to go off with Mr., um...
This fellow here. So they
won't be with us long, hm?
Lord Easterfield,
I'd like to offer my apology,
if you'll accept it.
It wasn't my intention
to take Bridget away from you.
The fact of it is,
we fell in love.
I only hope it is love
you're after,
and not the fortune
that'll come to Bridget one day.
Oh, Gordon, we've been
all over that.
I don't want your money.
It's not your decision,
Oh, I know how
they all sneer at me,
claim that I only prospered
at your father's expense,
and I'll not have it.
I had intended
to prove them all liars
by doing you the honor
of marrying you,
as well as leaving you
my estate.
Come to that, my dear...
may not be a problem anyway,
since, no doubt,
I'll outlive you.
Both of you.
Listen, if you're threatening us...
Threatening you?
How absurd.
It's nothing to do with me,
you know.
I'm only the instrument
of a higher power.
Gordon, please, don't start.
It's happened every time.
That wretched Pierce boy,
Lydia, Carter,
Humbleby, Amy, Rivers.
All my enemies, cast
down and exterminated.
But you understand,
don't you, Honoria?
Of course, Gordon, of course I
understand, and I'm certain you're right.
But you know, Gordon, dear,
you've let yourself get upset.
Nonsense, I'm feeling
perfectly fit!
It's amazing, isn't it?
They all die.
Come on, let's get
out of here.
I'll just get my bag
and go home.
Well, what are you
going to do?
Let him go on
killing people?
You can't protect
him anymore.
Gordon is childish,
and he's pompous,
and he certainly has
a temper.
But, Luke, deep down,
he is harmless.
I promise you, the man
wouldn't hurt a fly.
Oh, yeah? Well, he sure as hell
would choke a canary.
A canary?
That's why Miss Waynflete
broke off their engagement.
He killed her canary.
She said that?
Miss Waynflete said that?
Yes, she said that.
And then,
there's also the car.
Not that you didn't
suspect that already.
What about the car?
Bridget, he ran down
Miss Fullerton in the Rolls.
I don't believe that.
A woman in the crowd saw
the license number.
I'm sorry.
I don't mean
to be rough with you.
Look, I have to get
to Constable Reed's office.
The constable already
knows about Gordon?
Yes, now, are you coming
with me?
Well, uh...
I need a little time
to pull myself together.
If I could meet you
At Miss Waynflete's.
I'll meet you there later.
All right.
I hope the constable
will be discreet about this.
Well, it's obvious now
that Gordon will do anything
to avoid public humiliation.
If Reed trots this out
and makes a big show,
Gordon might even
kill himself
rather than face it.
I can hardly believe it.
Gordon a murderer.
I felt certain too.
But now that I've had time
to reflect more calmly,
Do think,
just for a moment,
how cleverly it was all done.
And whatever our feelings
for Gordon,
let us admit that he does not have
the kind of devious intelligence
it must have taken to manage
all those murders.
But it's pretty
straightforward, isn't it?
Take Harry Carter.
He did laugh at Gordon,
and in public too.
And shortly afterwards,
he's drowned.
And Tommy's case
was similar.
And poor Rivers,
killed at the very gates,
rather obvious.
Perhaps too obvious.
Almost, perhaps, as if
a very cunning person
were trying to make it seem
that a less cunning person
had done it.
Why, Bridget,
what's the matter?
Nothing, I'm fine.
Oh, dear,
I've upset you.
What about a nice walk?
Do us both good.
A walk?
Yes, Luke won't be finished
for a while yet.
That should give me
just enough time.
Lord Easterfield looks guilty,
all right.
But then, perhaps that's
precisely what someone is after,
someone who'll find it
to get Lord Easterfield
out of the way,
even to see him dead.
If there were such a person,
why would they kill
all those people?
Why not just kill
Too risky.
Especially if the person
were someone
close to Lord Easterfield.
Well, then,
perhaps we should, uh...
question Miss Bridget Conway.
I'm sure she'll come up
with some answers for us.
You know,
Miss Waynflete,
you may be
on to something
about Gordon
and the murders.
For some of them must have taken
some quite brilliant planning,
to say nothing of nerve.
Yes, you do see.
Take Amy, for example.
She certainly wouldn't
have let Gordon
put a needle in her arm.
Oh, but there are
other ways
to kill a person
with heroin.
I read up on it.
Did you?
How very thorough of you.
And, Bridget...
surely it can't have been
a simple matter
to induce blood poisoning
in Dr. Humbleby.
Of course, Gordon could have
learned of such things
from his visit
to the laboratory.
What about Lydia Horton?
She died long before Gordon
went to that laboratory.
Are we to believe
that he really knew
how to poison
those grapes himself?
What grapes?
Why, the grapes he sent
from his hothouse.
You took them
to Lydia yourself,
didn't you, Bridget?
Yes, so I did.
Wasn't aware you knew that,
Miss Waynflete.
You must tell me
what else you know.
Why so silent,
Miss Waynflete?
I'm waiting
to hear the rest.
I don't know any more.
I don't really know
It's all just speculation.
Probably quite foolish.
Oh, no, you were
never foolish.
You're quite clever.
In fact, maybe almost
as clever as the killer.
I don't think you realize
what you're saying.
You look foolish enough,
all right.
Proper Miss Waynflete,
in her proper little gloves.
You wear them everywhere,
don't you?
you must stop this.
Why do you walk
through the fields in gloves
O fat white woman
who nobody loves?
Where did I hear that? I can't
remember, but it fits you perfectly,
because nobody does love you,
Miss Waynflete.
Nobody does
and nobody ever will.
You think Gordon did,
but you're wrong.
You never had him.
You never had anyone
or anything.
Except that cleverness
of yours.
And that cleverness could get
you into trouble.
Couldn't it,
Miss Waynflete?
You almost made it,
didn't you?
Didn't you?
Or did you already
get Easterfield,
like everybody else?
I say...
What's he doing
to Miss Waynflete?
She's admitted everything?
Admitted it, yes, Miss.
And she wouldn't be
till she'd given us
every detail.
Yes, it was awful.
She was so proud
of her cleverness.
I know.
I tried to play on that
to get a confession out of her,
and she was going
to tell me...
just before killing me.
That was to be your final crime,
Gordon, killing me, because...
I was leaving you.
That's why she asked you
to meet her
in the meadow at midday,
I suppose.
You were to be found there
with my body...
And your dagger.
But how on earth did she get
hold of my dagger?
Oh, she stole it
this morning, off the table.
It still had
your fingerprints on it.
Of course.
Her proper little gloves.
Poor Honoria,
those rages of hers.
Do you know, she once killed
her own pet canary,
just 'cause it pecked her.
I simply couldn't feel the same
about her after that.
Then it was you that
broke off the engagement?
I told you how tenderhearted he is.
When you reported to me
that story about the canary,
I knew Miss Waynflete
must be lying...
to make Gordon look guilty.
Smart girl. -It's really
just a matter of knowing
a little about
human nature, Luke.
Perhaps that's why
your famous computer
couldn't come up
with the right answer.
No, don't blame the computer.
I didn't program Miss Waynflete
as a suspect.
Oh, don't feel badly
about it, Mr., um, Williams.
No, she even took me in.
Had me convinced
that the Almighty
was wreaking vengeance
on all my enemies.
It isn't altogether
a bad theory.
But what I don't
understand is this:
How did my Rolls
come to be identified
as the car that
bowled over Miss Fullerton?
Because I had the Rolls on Derby Day.
That's why I knew
it couldn't be you, Gordon.
And you bashed the fender?
Miss Waynflete knew
Miss Fullerton was
on to her,
so she followed her
to London.
She saw her chance
and pushed Miss Fullerton
under a passing car.
The driver of the car
failed to stop,
so she simply gave
your license number
to a man in the crowd.
But how did she manage
all the other murders?
Some are obvious,
but what about Humbleby,
for example?
Now, when Humbleby went
to visit her,
Miss Waynflete
ran her scissors
into his right hand
and then insisted on
bandaging it.
But first, she infected
the bandage
with discharge
from Wonky Pooh's ear.
Good Lord.
If you'll forgive me.
And the others?
She, uh... She killed
Lydia Horton
with garden spray
on the grapes,
little by little.
And then, the night that
Amy came home from London,
Miss Waynflete...
brought her a nice cup of tea,
loaded with heroin.
Imagine the old witch doing all that
just because his lordship
jilted her so long ago.
All for revenge.
Her one master-passion
swallowed up the rest.
Uh, beg your pardon, sir?
Uh, Essay on Man, epistle two.
Oh, yes.
But it is hard to believe
that so much love
could turn
into so much hate.
Is it?
Excuse me.
I must go to Gordon.
I still like your squad car.
We have returned
to the use of the bicycle
in the interest of economy,
and, if I may say so, sir,
efficient policing.
Gordon's already
hard at work
on his next series
of articles:
"Famous Female Criminals
Throughout the Ages."
He says he's far too busy a man
for marriage, anyway.
Does that mean
you're going with me?
How could I possibly
go off with a man
who thinks me capable
of murder?
And loves you anyway.
I guess I just couldn't believe
that I could get that lucky.
To have what I want.
To have you.
Too improbable for you?
Well, at least you know
the worst about me.
That ought to count
for something.
Do I?
No more questions?
No more curiosities?
All right.
Where did you go
on Derby Day?
I went to see Johnny.
-Johnny? You're kidding.
I thought he was no good,
I thought he jilted you.
He was, he did.
I just wanted to be sure,
that's all.
I took one look at him,
and I realized what an
idiot I'd been and I left.
I seem to have a habit
of choosing the wrong man,
haven't I?
Hello, you two.
Thought I'd just pop by, make
sure you were still alive.
I hope so. -Splendid,
then we've just got time
to make the Royal Ascot meeting,
if we hurry.
Jimmy, Ascot's not
for another week.
Quite. Just enough time for you to work
out who's going to win the gold cup.
Well, are you coming?
Well? Are we?
Let me rephrase the
question. Will you marry me?
There's one thing I think
you should know. -Uh-huh?
I made Gordon cut me out of his
will. -Now I know the worst about you.