Marple (2004) s01e01 Episode Script

1 Gentlemen.
And lady.
I'm sorry.
It's not my business.
I've retired.
And what is more, I'm on holiday.
Oh, Sir Henry.
Yes, I'm sorry about the papers.
- Stuff and nonsense.
- It's a damn nuisance.
They tried to put the brakes on, but someone leaked it.
Good morning, Dolly.
This is appalling.
Listen to this.
"Colonel Arthur Bantry, squire of the small village of St Mary Mead, "cannot explain the presence of the murdered platinum blonde, "glamorous nightclub chanteuse Ruby Keene, who was found strangled "in the library of his house in the early hours of Saturday.
Mrs Bantry, it is understood, has gone away to the seaside" I must telephone to Arthur at once.
Heaven knows what he'll think if he reads that pile of trash.
Excuse me, Henry.
Have you thought any further? Oh, yes.
To any conclusion? Oh, yes.
Well, are you going to tell me? Well whoever killed Ruby Keene killed Pamela Reeve.
And I'm afraid that, very shortly, a third murder will be attempted.
Come in.
You sent for me, sir? Yes, Slack.
Have the lab sent the report for those hairs from the rug? Yes, sir.
The tests were inconclusive.
I think the rug was probably in the killer's car, sir.
Yes, I suppose that's fair enough.
What did the Yard say about Blake? The nightwatchman saw Blake drive out of the studio car park at a few minutes to 11.
As the cars go past his hut, the light falls on the driver's side.
And how far to St Mary Mead? 20 miles.
So he could have done it.
Now we've had corroborated evidence that Blake was at the studio party at 2.
He could have gone back to establish his alibi? Exactly, sir.
She put her finger on Blake right from the first moment.
Who did, sir? Miss Marple, of course.
Who do you think? Slack, I retain the impression that you don't really take her seriously.
- Well, do you? - In what way, sir? Let me give you a piece of advice.
That old lady is tougher-minded, more cynical and just plain cleverer than most barristers you'll meet in what I hope is going to be your long and distinguished career.
Excuse me.
Yes? Sir Henry Clithering? What? Downstairs? Good morning.
- Miss Marple.
- Oh, good morning, Mr Gaskell.
Good morning.
No tennis today, Mrs Jefferson? Later on, actually.
Oh, of course.
With respect, Sir Henry, we've taken statements from all Pamela Reeve's friends.
Her friends at school and at the Girl Guide rally.
But Miss Marple's point is that one of them must know more, that the Reeve girl was an average child and every average child has a special friend in whom she confides.
If that's so, you haven't found her, have you? No, sir, I haven't.
If that's so.
Inspector, I realise this is a great imposition.
You must have an enormous amount on your plate.
Nothing we're not abreast of, sir.
Oh, no, of course not.
I was just going to suggest that if you could organise an afternoon of interviews, perhaps one of your junior officers could preside and if Miss Marple could just be present Very well, sir.
I'll set that up.
Anything else, sir? Thank you, Inspector.
Keep me informed.
- Good morning, Sir Henry.
- Good morning, Inspector.
Ah! - Excuse me.
Are you a detective? - No.
Somebody told me you were a rather important detective from London.
The head of Scotland Yard.
Miss Marple.
Oh, Sir Henry.
I can see that one person at least is enjoying this horrid business.
Yes, I am rather.
I've been sniffing around to find any clues, but I haven't.
I've got a souvenir, though.
My mother wanted me to chuck it away.
Honestly, parents.
Look at this.
A fingernail.
One of hers.
A fingernail of the murdered woman.
Ohhh! What do you think? Good, isn't it? - Where did you get it? - Well, it was quite lucky, really.
Nobody knew she was going to be murdered then.
It was on the night in question, you see.
Ruby caught a broken nail on Josie's shawl.
My mother cut it for her and told me to chuck it away.
I put it in my pocket and forgot.
Do you think it's nearly lunchtime? I'm very hungry.
Josie! Josie! Hello! Hello, Peter.
How are you? Good morning, Miss Turner.
Everything all right? I can't leave the hotel.
Reporters don't care.
I daren't leave the building.
- Oh, dear.
Anyway, better get on.
Josie, I want to interrogate you.
How long did you know the deceased? Peter It had been worrying me, how to account for her nails.
- Her nails? - Well, they were so short.
A girl like that usually has elegant little claws.
But I suppose if she'd torn one, then she might have had to clip the others to match.
I wonder.
I don't know.
Well, I Oh, there's Slack.
I'll go and ask.
- Inspector? - Yes, Sir Henry? Just a detail.
Did you find any nail clippings in the girl's room? Yes, sir.
A whole lot in the wastepaper basket.
Oh, good.
Thanks.
Em managed to set up the interviews yet? I'm seeing to it now, sir.
I'll let you know.
Miss Marple! Amateurs! Deliver me from amateurs! Sir? Not only do we have a retired Chief taking a busman's holiday, we now have an ageing spinster! Give me some straightforward robbery with violence.
Anything more on Blake yet? Yes, sir.
Quite a lot.
Gotcha.
- I don't want it.
- But, sir Get out.
Edwards? Edwards! Oh, Mr Gaskell.
What's the matter, Edwards? I'm not sure he'd welcome a visit, sir.
What is it today? The glooms or the shouts? He's refusing his medication, sir.
That's bad.
How's about me trying? Well, you can try, sir.
Good.
You bring it out.
Very well, sir.
Morning, Jeff.
What have you been up to? Humping furniture? Five black marks for overdoing it.
Oh, go to hell.
Now, Jeff, would you like Adelaide to come up and have coffee with you today? Get out! Get out! GET OUT! He's a dominating man.
With a sometimes uncontrollable temper.
And his weakness is that he needs people to dominate.
How interesting.
When Frank and I married, Jeff gave us so much money, Frank had nothing to strive for.
So in a way that money was a way of denying Frank the means of becoming himself.
And Jeff knew he wouldn't handle it properly.
Do you rather hate Jeff? You are extraordinary.
No.
He is selfish, he's a collector of souls, but he loved Rosamund and Frank.
He lives his life on thin ice.
He could die at any moment.
No, I don't hate him, but I think it's time I was independent of him.
Are you going to get married again? What fun! How is dear old Hugo? Yes, he wants to marry me.
I suppose that's what you wanted to know.
Anyway, I haven't accepted.
Forgive my asking, Mrs Jefferson, but did you like this poor dead girl, Ruby Keene? She was a vulgar, gold-digging simpleton.
I didn't like her, no.
When I discovered what she was up to, I'm afraid I was very angry.
I could have killed her.
Adelaide! For God's sake.
Hello, Hugo.
Right.
So we know that Blake left the studios and returned, giving him time to carry out one or both murders.
We've established his presence in town on three separate occasions and at the Majestic at least once.
We've established that he knew Ruby Keene.
Blake lied about when he left the studio party, lied about being at the Majestic.
I think it's time we had a look at Mr Blake's car.
Tell him we need a statement and we can have a shufti at his automobile.
Have you set up interviews with the schoolgirls? Yes, sir.
School and the Girl Guides.
- Right.
What about the financial inquiries? Mrs Jefferson and Mr Gaskell.
Both hard up.
Gaskell's in debt.
I thought we'd dropped them.
Cast-iron alibis.
100,000 green ones is as good a motive as you get.
Now I think we'll have a look at Mr Blake's car.
Forehand, Adelaide.
Nice and easy.
Good girl.
Keep those legs bent.
Forehand.
Oh, I can't get those.
Bend your legs.
Watch it.
Follow through.
Good girl.
Bend your knees.
Good girl.
Lovely.
Watch your grip.
Adelaide, I'll show you.
It's the grip, you see.
The grip.
Relax.
I'm not going to eat you.
You see, fork the thumb there and grip it nice and tight.
Oh, I see.
Good girl.
Keep square.
Right the way through.
All right? Good girl.
I think we've got you down for 11.
30 tomorrow.
Is that all right? Fine, Ray.
See you then.
- I'm improving, don't you think? - Hmph! Oh, Hugo, stop being so grumpy.
- Ray - Ah, Mrs Cumperton.
On time as usual.
Off you go, then.
That fellow damn nearly I just don't damn well like it, that's all.
Oh, Hugo! Stop stuffing your shirt.
I can't help how I feel, Adelaide.
It's the way I am.
Did you know that Hugo McLean was staying over at Danebury Head when all this happened? He hadn't far to come when he was summoned, had he? What a coincidence! Isn't it? Yes, Inspector.
I know where you are.
Just off Castle Street.
Not at all.
I'll drive over to HQ this afternoon.
Thank you.
Just routine.
I mean, the police were bound to want to question me.
What's going on, Blake? Blake? I've got something to tell you.
All right.
Thank you, dear.
I must go back to Gossington.
Griselda says that people are saying that I left because I couldn't bear the shame of it.
That must mean that they think I believe all the horrible things they're saying.
I'll keep this suite on, Jane.
You will stay, won't you, and clear this thing up? Oh, Jane, you're so clever.
Why haven't you solved this by now? You don't seem to be getting on at all.
I thought you'd know at once.
No, dear, I didn't know at once.
Not for some time.
What? You mean you know now who killed Ruby Keene?! Oh, yes.
Yes, I know that.
It's a question of the others.
Who else, you see? Jane you're not to tease me.
You're to tell me at once who it is and what you mean.
Oh, no, that would never do at all, Dolly.
- Why wouldn't it do? - You're so indiscreet.
You'd go around telling everyone.
Or at least hinting.
No, no, there's a long way to go yet.
A great many things that are still quite obscure.
Take it round the back, sir.
There's spaces there.
- Rightio.
Let's start at the back of the car.
When Slack says 10 minutes, he means five.
- Right, sir.
Quite frankly, Sir Henry.
Once he got over his grief, if he ever did, the one thing that keeps Mr Jefferson alive is his anger.
Anger against the gods I call it.
He'll go down fighting.
Do any particular things make him angry? Oh, inefficiency.
Time wasters.
The petrol shortage.
Anything that prevents him from getting on.
Deceit.
Yes.
Deceit.
- May I be frank, Sir Henry? - Please do.
There was an incident.
You see, sir, the young woman that Mr Jefferson was so taken up with just wasn't worth it.
She was, to put it bluntly, a common little piece.
I don't think she particularly liked him, even.
It was one afternoon about a week ago.
Miss Keene was with Mr Jefferson.
You'll never believe it - it was the same landlady as had the dog in Huddersfield! The stinking cow! She'd moved.
- Are you all right, Jeff? - A speck of dust.
Don't do that.
Worst thing you can do.
Here, let me.
Now come on.
Be a brave boy and open it.
Come on, that's it.
Look up, look up.
Oh, come on, you little beggar.
There.
Got you.
Someone's been sweeping their chimney! What's this? From your handbag.
What is? This.
Who is it? Search me, Jeff.
It's not mine.
Kitten, it's just fallen out of your handbag.
What? I don't see how it could have.
"I’ll be true, Sweet Ruby-Roo, "to you "to you.
" Can I look at it, please, Jeff? Oh, I don't know.
I'm not sure.
Now, Kitten Oh, I know who it is! He comes here sometimes.
I've danced with him.
Says he's in films or something.
24-carat nutcase, he is! Silly idiot.
Must have stuck his photo in my bag.
Honestly, Jeff.
Those boys are so stupid.
They're always nicking my piccy from the showcase in the foyer.
Always what? Nicking my piccy, of course.
Nicking my piccy.
I don't think Mr Jefferson quite believed her.
He was on edge all that day.
Completely lost his temper later with his broker on the phone.
Things returned to normal, of course, but I fancy he was more watchful of her from then on.
He asked her more questions about what she was doing.
- Did you see the photograph? - No, sir.
What do you think he would have done had he discovered she had a secret lover? Quite honestly, sir, I think In his state of health, I think it would have finished him.
- Thanks very much for coming in, sir.
- Glad to have been of some help.
I hope you don't feel you've wasted your time.
Not at all.
Forensic Lab.
Drive carefully, then, sir.
Cheerio, Inspector.
Bye now.
Now you will tell the Inspector about the dress, won't you? This IS Ruby Keene's dress we're talking about? Of course.
The idea is, isn't it, that she changed her dress and then went off to meet someone, a man we suppose.
That is the general impression.
Well, it won't do.
If Ruby was going to wear the kind of dress she wore, she'd make sure it was her best one.
Girls do.
Then why didn't she? Now that is the key to the whole business.
Good.
I think that's all the questions I've got for you now.
Thank you, Jenny.
I've interviewed all six girls, Miss Marple.
I really don't think Yes, yes.
I should like to speak to Florrie Small.
Did you notice her as she went out? She relaxed too soon.
Florrie Small? Florrie Small? It's all right.
We just want to have another word with you.
I think it will be OK.
You're sure then, Florrie, are you, that you've told us everything? I'd rather hear you say it out loud, Florrie.
Yes.
You must be a brave girl and make a clean breast of things.
Florrie Small, if you refuse to tell us what you know, it shall be a very serious matter indeed.
Very serious.
Practically perjury.
And for that, as you know, you can be sent to prison.
I don't know.
Florence, don't prevaricate.
Tell me everything you know at once.
Pamela was not going to Woolworths.
Something to do with films, wasn't it? Wasn't it, Florrie? Yes.
Yes, it was.
Oh, Miss, I've been ever so worried.
I can't tell you.
I've hardly eaten a thing.
It's been horrible.
See, I promised poor Pammy.
I promised.
All Edwards could tell me was that Ruby Keene referred to the chap in the photograph as something to do with films.
Blake again.
Blake is Inspector Slack's favourite.
He lied about his movements and now we've found hairs in his oar.
We're having them checked against those on Ruby Keene's dress.
Ah, now, talking about this dress.
There's something I should like to suggest.
Yes? Look here, you don't think I'm interfering, do you? I suspect you're going to talk about Miss Marple again, aren't you? All right.
What did she ask you to tell me? It's about the girl's dress.
We've Miss Marple says it's the key to the whole business.
Florrie, take your time, dear, and tell us what Pammy told you.
It was when we were walking up the lane to the bus, on the way to the rally, that she told me Pammy asked me if I could keep a secret.
- Well, can you? - Of course I can.
Swear it? I swear.
I promise, Pammy, I won't tell.
Do you remember when we went shopping last time? - Yes.
I didn't only do that.
I met a man.
Pammy! Oh, it's all right.
Nothing like that.
What, then? Well, he picked me up, all right, on the front.
Just started talking to me.
What about? Three guesses what I'm going to do after the rally this afternoon.
Pammy, you're not! Not THAT, dope! - Give up.
- A film test.
I'm going to be tested for a film.
Get off! That's what I reckoned at first.
He says I mustn't be disappointed.
He's looking for a particular type and needs to see me on film.
But, Pammy, how do you know Well, you know.
He was terribly business-like.
If there was a contract, he reckoned a solicitor should look at it.
And I'm going to be chaperoned at the test.
A woman will be there to help me.
Someone who really knows what's happening.
That's amazing.
And where was Pamela supposed to meet him? - At his hotel.
- You don't know which one? No, she didn't say.
And where was this supposed film test to take place? He said they had a small studio in Danemouth.
I see.
I should have stopped her.
I should have.
I should have Come in.
Just got you, sir.
Good.
What is it, Slack? The lab, sir.
The hairs we found on the girl's dress are identical with those from Blake's car.
Congratulations.
Good work.
I had a feeling it would be ordinary police work that would crack this.
What about the second murder? Have you tied that in yet? Only a matter of time.
The lab says we can have something barrister-proof by morning.
Then we'll pull Blake in.
Once we've got a charge that sticks, I'll get the second murder out of him easily.
I wouldn't be too sure.
Why do you say that, sir? I've checked him out a bit myself.
He was a conscientious objector.
Par for the course.
He joined the Fire Service Auxiliary.
Got the George Medal.
Good night, Slack.
Oh, I am so glad you're here.
May I come in? Sure.
Why not? Take a pew.
I beg your pardon? Park your - Would you like to sit down? - Oh.
Thank you.
So what is it this time? This time? So far I've had the nave restoration fund, the needlework guild, the Bishop's appeal for deep sea fishermen.
What are you? Boy Scouts or unmarried mothers? All right.
Don't answer that.
You've only come to look around.
I've taken to giving conducted tours and charging a couple of bob.
Where would you like to start? The kitchen? I came to offer you some advice.
Oh, my God! The League of Decency! Which I hope might help in the difficult time ahead.
What? I want to advise you most strongly not to continue using your maiden name in the village.
In a short while you'll need all the goodwill you can find and there's a prejudice in country places against people who are not married living together.
Oh, it's amused you, no doubt, calling yourself Miss Lee when you are Mrs Blake and it has helped to keep all but the most curious at a distance, but the time for such games is over.
How did you know we were married? My dear.
The way you quarrel.
You quarrel like people who are tied to each other by more than a mere love affair.
You're astonishing.
I thought you'd been to Somerset House or something.
Oh Somerset House.
- And the rest of it? - I'm so sorry? Why are we going to need all this sympathy? Because almost certainly some time today your husband will be arrested for murder.
But he didn't do it! I know, but that's not the point now.
I'm glad he's told you about it.
What did he do with the rug? I burnt it.
But you didn't clear up properly.
Look.
That would be enough.
And your car.
How thorough were you? The car I'm not cut out for this, am I? How much do you know? I should like to know more.
All right.
I'll tell you.
Dinah and I had a row.
I left the studio party early.
The truth is, I'd had a skinful.
Hello! A visitor, by my troth! AYE, aye.
Wake up.
I suppose I panicked.
I just knew I had to get her out of the house.
I had no idea where I was going.
I just drove and drove.
Maniac! Then I found myself going past Gossington Hall.
Suddenly, that seemed to be the answer.
It sounds like madness, I know, but I thought it was rather a good joke.
Bantry can be an appallingly pompous ass, you know.
It seemed so wonderfully incongruous.
A girl like that, his library.
It's a cruel trick.
I know.
Didn't you know who it was? No! I hardly knew Ruby Keene.
And the face was Yes, yes.
What are we going to do about this, Blake? Well, may I suggest you engage the very best of lawyers? The police.
- I won't be a moment, Inch.
- Yes, ma'am.
Jane! Thank goodness you're here.
We've been trying to reach you.
Come in.
I can't stay, Dolly, but I thought I'd bring the news.
News? Basil Blake has been arrested for the murder of Ruby Keene.
Blake? He didn't do it.
How do you know? He did, however, deposit the body in your library.
Well, like Tommy Bond and his frog.
He resented his teacher, so he put his frog in her clock.
Blake? In my library? What on earth for? I think he did it as a kind of joke.
- What? - Well, he was drunk.
Oh, was he? So that was it? Ah, well.
But who did do it, then? I think the answer to that lies in London.
Yes, now London.
Inch, if we hurry, we can catch the 10 o'clock.
Come along.
- Yes, ma'am.
I'm not sure you should be seen with me, old man.
How's that? - Suspect number one.
- Oh, come off it, Gaskell.
What is it? Certainly somebody I don't want to be seen with.
Excuse me to the King of Wimbledon Not the subtlest of human beings, is he? I don't know why he has to be so bloody rude.
I've hardly spoken to the man.
What are you drinking? Look here, there's something you should understand.
About Adelaide.
- What's that? You do realise Adelaide believes in the code of the Jeffersons? What does that mean? Well, true Jeffersons aren't in the habit of marrying tennis players, old boy.
That's all.
Another whisky, please.
Afternoon, Ray.
Ray? What is it, Ray? Mr Jefferson is expecting you.
Right, I'm off then.
Lucky you.
- Pint down the local? - Not a hope.
Back to HQ, another session with Blake.
Stubborn, isn't he? By midnight.
One confession, signed and sealed.
Want a bet? Slack? I wonder if we could have a word.
Of course, sir.
Miss Marple.
Oh Yes, yes.
I've just returned from London.
Somerset House, you know.
And I just thought perhaps At our request, Conway Jefferson has informed Mrs Jefferson and Mr Gaskell, that as Ruby Keene is dead, he's going to endow a fund with £100,000 he intended to settle on her.
The fund is to be used to establish a hostel for young dancers in London.
Correct, yes.
He has also told them he's going to finalise the details with his solicitor tomorrow.
Now this is what I want done.
It'll be dark in a couple of hours.
We've got to move quickly.
George, put that in the boot for me.
Good man.
Mary, cancel breakfast for me, will you? I'm motoring to town.
Oh, I'm frightfully sorry! Oh, if anybody should want me tonight, they can ring me at my flat.
Back at lunchtime tomorrow.
Don't forget.
Three o'clock band call.
Oh, come on! No! Mrs Gaskell I presume.
I'm sure you did.
Now, Jane, before the Jeffersons and the Blakes get here, you've got to tell us how you did it.
Please do, my dear.
I don't understand at all.
Melchett? Well, yes, but Miss Marple should explain.
There's one or two things I'm not quite clear about.
Well, I'm afraid you'll find my methods terribly amateurish.
Nonsense! Now hush, everyone.
Jane, you must tell us.
Good.
Good.
I couldn't get away from that £100,000.
That was the key to it, but whether it was Mrs Jefferson or Mr Gaskell eluded me.
They both had solid alibis.
It wasn't until Dinah Lee mentioned Somerset House, marriage, of course.
As we since discovered, Mark Gaskell was married to Josie Turner and they were keeping it a secret until Mr Jefferson should die, which they hoped might be soon.
See? No, Miss Marple.
I'm afraid I don't.
Hardly a thing.
It was the nails that worried me.
Although Ruby Keene cut hers quite short, the poor girl in the library had bitten hers.
It just wasn't right.
Too like a book to be true.
Then, of course, I realised finally that the body in the library wasn't Ruby Keene at all.
Well, then, whose body was it? Pamela Reeve's.
And Pamela Reeve's fake movie producer was Mark Gaskell? Yes.
But the person behind it all was Josie.
It was obvious from the first that she was a very capable woman, capable of engineering it all.
It was a very clear-sighted plan and quite remorseless.
Mark Gaskell was her ticket to wealth and a good position.
Nothing, certainly not little Ruby Keene, was going to stop her.
It was all her own idea.
The double murder and the substitute body.
She cold-bloodedly chose Basil Blake as chief murder suspect.
She put his snapshot into Ruby's handbag.
She mentioned "this film bloke" to the police.
And she was poor, little Pamela's chaperone for the film test.
She bleached her hair, painted her bitten nails, made her up as Ruby Keene, put her into one of Ruby's dresses and, finally, drugged her, ready for the deadly attentions of Mark Gaskell.
Who then completed the plan by getting her to Blake's cottage, killing her and getting back to the hotel.
So at the time the doctor said she died, Gaskell and Josie had a perfect alibi.
They were sitting playing bridge, watching the real Ruby Keene dance.
After giving Ruby something to make her headachey and sleepy, Josie told her then to go up to her, that is Josie's, room and lie down knowing that the drug would shortly have full effect.
It was when she went up to change for her exhibition dance that Josie killed her.
She strangled the poor child in her sleep.
Later that evening, she and Gaskell dressed her in the Guide uniform, stole Bartlett's car, drove to the quarry and incinerated the lot.
Tell me, that tune that was racketing around in your head.
Mozart, didn't you say? What bearing did that have on the case? Oh, yes.
Most interesting.
The Marriage of Figaro.
Susanna's aria.
It was because Susanna was dressed up as the Countess.
It was the wrong dress.
That's all.
So it all boils down to fingernails and Mozart.
Yes, quite.