♪ ♪ CHUBB: Melissa James had no enemies, but somebody broke into her house and strangled her.

♪ ♪ We have information that could help you.

MISS CAIN: "My darling darling, we have to tell the world about the love we share."

PÜND: This is not addressed to her husband.

Mr. Marsh has suggested that he and Miss James were more than business partners.

We had a very close relationship.

She said that the hotel was crooked.

An eyehole concealed in the wall.

LEONARD: £980,000.

You are the sole beneficiary.

SAMANTHA: He's my brother-- I've got to tell him.

SUSAN: I've got an interview.

It's an independent publishing company, and I know the C.E.O.

Good luck.

SUSAN: I'm hoping to speak to Stefan Leonida.

He's in jail in Norfolk.

I have a friend who works with the prison service.

LOCKE: You can take whatever money the Trehernes are stupid enough to pay you and get the hell out of here.

If I see you again, I will arrest you.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ CECILY: It was here, I know it was.

AIDEN: Cecily, what are you looking for?

The pen, my dad's pen.

He lent it to me for tomorrow.

AIDEN: Well, why do you need it?

Something borrowed.

Cessy, relax.

We can just find something else.

(drawer opens) It was expensive, and he'd never even used it.

Who could've taken it?

(sighs) Hey.

Hey, hey.

(chuckling) You're not having second thoughts, are you?

(sighs): No.

Look, this is what we're gonna do.

We have this party this evening, but first, we're gonna have a quiet drink, just the two of us... (chuckles) ...and then we're gonna watch the sun come down, all right?

I don't want to drink too much tonight.

One is not gonna hurt you.

CECILY: I wish Dad had closed the hotel for the wedding.

We have weddings here all the time.

Nobody's ever complained.

I know, but this one's special.

I'm glad you think so.

I can't believe that this time tomorrow, we'll be on our way to Antigua.

And married.

(chuckles) (gasps) (laughs) (Frank clears throat) (softly): Oh, God.

Aiden.

Mr. Parris, what can I do for you?

Well, you can start by introducing me to your lovely fiancée.

(chuckles) Uh, Cecily, this is the guest that I mentioned to you.

The one who didn't like his room.

Ah, yes.

I hope your new one's all right.

Oh, it's perfect.

Well, almost perfect.

This is for you.

Sorry?

It isn't working.

Have you had it next to your phone?

That can demagnetize them.

No, I don't think so.

But I can see that I'm intruding.

Can I offer you my congratulations for tomorrow?

Thank you.

And I understand there's a party this evening.

Yes, uh, I hope it won't disturb you.

Oh, not at all-- I'm actually going out.

There's an opera being performed at Snape Malting.

What opera's that?

Uh, Mozart.

"The Marriage of Figaro."

It's one of my favorites.

(footsteps retreating) (murmuring): God, what a creep.

CECILY: Better get him a new key.

AIDEN: Oh, sure.

There is one thing, though.

Yeah, what's that?

The opera he mentioned.

"The Marriage of Figaro."

What about it?

I was looking at the program just yesterday, and, if he's going to Snape Malting tonight, he's wasting his time.

It's not on.

Hm.

("The Marriage of Figaro" overture playing) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (doorbell ringing) Craig Andrews.

(chuckling): Susan!

Wonderful to see you.

Oh, this is so kind.

Not at all, it's a pleasure.

Uh, where's your car?

Uh, I'm, I'm in a bay, round the corner.

Perfect-- come on in.

SUSAN: I hope I haven't disturbed your writing.

CRAIG: No, honestly, it's fine.

How long was the drive down?

SUSAN: Oh, about two hours.

That's not bad.

Still got that little red MG?

(laughing): Yeah, afraid so.

Would you, um, like some coffee?

Uh, yeah, I'd love some.

These are for Louise.

Louise?

Oh, God-- um...

Didn't I tell you?

What?

She's not here.

We, um... We went our separate ways.

Right.

When?

Uh, last year.

You didn't say anything on the phone.

(chuckling): Well, I assumed you knew.

No.

Oh...

I feel a bit embarrassed now, um...

I hope you don't feel, um, uncomfortable, staying here, it... Oh, no, I'm, not at all, but...

There's a hotel up the road, if... (laughing): No, no.

(laughs) No, it'll be fine.

It's just, you know, if I'd have known... Well, I, I love flowers.

Oh, well!

(chuckles): So...

There you go.

Thank you.

(laughing) (sniffing): Mm.

Why don't you make yourself comfortable?

Um, your room's at the top of the stairs, first door on the right.

Okay.

I'll get the coffee on.

Sure.

(laughing) So, what happened?

What, me and Louise?

Mm.

Well, you know what it's like being married to a writer.

Oh.

I'm not sure there's a more selfish, inward-looking profession in the world.

Anyway, we had three good years, and, um... Then she met someone else.

I'm sorry.

No, don't be.

I mean, we're still good friends, and, um, I'm very happy.

This house, the books.

Which I owe all to you, by the way.

Oh, Craig.

That's not true.

Well, you found me.

You encouraged me.

And somehow, you made the books, um... Bestsellers?

Exactly.

(chuckles) You and Alan Conway.

Yeah, I was sorry about Clover Books.

Me, too.

I am looking for another job.

Well, anyone in their right mind would snap you up.

Actually, I've got an interview today.

Oh, really, who with?

Uh, Parker Chance.

Do you know them?

They're an independent.

They're small, but, you know, they're successful.

Thought you were happy in Crete.

I am, but I, I-- I miss publishing.

What does Andreas think about all of this?

It's not easy.

God, we've got so much to catch up on.

Why don't we do it over supper?

There's this new little bistro that's opened up just around the corner, if you're up for it-- I mean, it's very informal.

Yeah, I'd, I'd...

I'd like that.

Great.

Oh, by the way, I managed to track down your prisoner.

Mm!

Um, Stefan Leonida.

He's being held in HMP Weystone in Norfolk.

Right, um... Can you get me in?

As it happens, I know the governor.

(chuckles) Basically, I've added you to their literacy program.

Obviously, there are some forms to fill in, and Mr. Leonida has to agree to a one-to-one.

Mm-hmm.

Brilliant, thank you.

I'm glad to help.

Hm.

Did you know that last year, my books were the third-most popular in prison after James Patterson and Jeffrey Archer?

I'm not surprised.

(both chuckle) Well, you know.

(both laugh) (ship horn blowing in distance) ANDREAS (speaking Greek): YANNIS: ANDREAS: (chuckles) YANNIS: ANDREAS: YANNIS: ANDREAS: YANNIS: ANDREAS: YANNIS: ANDREAS: ♪ ♪ YANNIS (snaps): (exhales) (elevator dings) Susan.

Nathan.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

Oh.

It's great to see you again.

And you.

How are you?

Yeah, I'm good, thank you.

Yeah.

Please, come on up.

NATHAN: So, you've been in Athens.

How long is it now?

Oh, a year, and actually, it's, it's Crete.

Yes, that's it.

(chuckles) And you've been, uh, running a hotel.

Mm.

The Trifilli.

Yes, it's Greek for clover.

Andreas named it after... Clover Books.

Yeah.

(both laugh) I was very sorry to hear about what happened.

Yeah-- yeah, it was horrible.

So.

You want to come back.

That's why I'm here.

Yeah, I miss publishing.

And I heard you were looking for a senior editor.

If you don't mind, I'll just say right from the off, I feel a little awkward interviewing you, Susan.

Oh!

I thought it was just a conversation between two friends, one of whom had given the other his first job in publishing 15 years ago.

I'm still grateful.

You don't need to be.

You did a brilliant job.

Okay, then.

Look, as a friend-- I'll be honest with you, Susan-- I'd love to have you on board.

If it was my decision, you'd start tomorrow.

But I'll have to talk to my partners.

Persuade them.

Persuade them?

Well, they don't know you.

But they know Alan Conway.

18 million copies sold.

I mean, they, they've heard of the "White Dagger" series.

They've read Craig Andrews.

Alan Conway's dead, "White Dagger's" out of print, and even Craig Andrews doesn't sell like he used to.

Well, that's told me, I suppose.

I don't mean to do that, I'm just saying.

Look, you've been away for a year, Susan.

And things have been changing very fast: the people, the industry... Are you saying I'm out of touch?

I didn't say that.

I think you implied it.

Okay, then, fine.

Let me ask you something.

Do you have an Instagram account?

No.

Are you on TikTok?

No.

What do you think of romantasy?

Why do you ask?

40 million copies sold, mainly through BookTok.

I'm not on BookTok, either.

And that's what I mean.

That's what I'm talking about.

No, what you're talking about is genre fiction.

Romantasy may sell millions, but... (exhales) You're really a fan?

I'm a fan of the sales.

Ah.

(chuckling) And some of the biggest writers in the world aren't writers in the old-school sense, not anymore.

They're influencers.

Oh!

Right, yeah, okay.

Do you really believe that?

Do you?

Times have changed, yes.

Of course they have.

But you know as well as I do that what sells books isn't social media in any shape or form.

It's writers who can tell stories that mean something to people's lives.

That's my world, and if you want to make me feel like I'm Methuselah's great-aunt, then I'm disappointed in you, because that is not who I am and it's not how you were when you started out.

Okay, then, um... All right, let me ask you something else, if you want to talk old school.

We're publishing a crime novel by Lucy Foley.

She's very good.

Here's the cover.

What do you think?

(exhales): It's a good title, I like the colors.

But, um, I'm not sure about the image.

Why not?

Because it's...

It's crass and clichéd, and it's, it's actually rather horrible.

Lucy Foley's an intelligent writer.

She needs this sort of image like a hole in a head, which is actually what it shows.

Our marketing team liked it.

Well, they're wrong.

Lucy's readers use their brains.

They don't need to see them splattered over the page.

And it was my idea.

Well, I don't think it's a good one.

We'll let you know.

I think you already have.

♪ ♪ (people talking in background) (Susan laughing) We'll have a bottle... Oh!

...of the Chablis Premier Cru.

SERVER: Perfect.

SUSAN: Thanks.

I shouldn't be drinking at lunchtime.

Richard'll be mad with me.

Um, who's Richard?

My current live-in.

Ooh!

Actually, he's more than that.

We're thinking of getting married.

(gasps) God!

Isn't that awful?

Must be getting old.

You've done very well for yourself.

You mean Alan Conway did well for me.

I got two million for that house, Susan.

(whispers): Wow.

Did you ever think I was the one who did him in?

Oh, you were my number-one suspect.

Glad to hear it.

(chuckles) Poor Alan.

Even after all this time, it's still hard to believe he was murdered.

Mm, it is.

Oh, it's good to see you again, James.

JAMES: Oh.

SERVER: Chablis?

JAMES: Yeah, that's fine, just pour it.

(exhales): Now a second murder.

SUSAN: Oh.

You never stop, do you?

(softly): Well, the whole world believes that a Romanian hotel worker, Stefan Leonida, killed Frank Parris.

Cecily Treherne had her doubts, and now she's disappeared.

Now, it may be that Alan hid something in the book, and you knew him better than anyone.

Yeah, well, I knew Frank Parris, too.

(gasps): Did you?!

God, yes.

In the bad old days, when I was working, Frank took me to bed maybe half a dozen times at 300 quid a pop.

(laughs softly) To be honest, he wasn't a very nice man, Susan.

In what way?

He liked to have all the power.

He liked to play games.

Not at all my cup of tea, but he was paying top whack, so I didn't complain.

And actually, I should be grateful to Frank.

It was Frank who introduced me to Alan.

That was before Alan came out?

Oh, yeah, long before!

Yeah, Alan was gay, obviously, but he didn't want anyone to know it.

He'd just finished his second book, and he was married.

He was terrified-- if anyone found out about him, it would just ruin his career.

But it was Frankie who changed all that.

In what way?

Frank was a sort of mentor to him, encouraging him to, you know... (lowers voice): ...explore his sexuality.

So Frank introduced you to Alan to... help him?

Absolutely.

I was part of his therapy.

(chuckles) JAMES (voiceover): I quite liked Alan when I first met him.

He was so unsure of himself.

It was only much later, when Alan's book sales went ballistic, he became a monster.

Alan, you're gay, you like men.

Why don't you just admit it?

I have a wife and son.

And you think they don't suspect that maybe something isn't quite right?

What do they think that Daddy's doing in London on his own half the time?

It's not just that.

(lowers voice): I work at a school.

Alan, there are hundreds of gay teachers out there.

Doesn't make them dangerous or predatory.

You're just scared, and you're making excuses, and you don't see it, but you're harming your own life.

Be what you are!

(phone chimes) Be happy.

(inhales): I've got to dash.

Leo's waiting for me outside.

Why didn't you invite him?

I'm spending enough on him as it is without buying him dinner.

Nice to see you again, James.

Look after my friend.

I'm not just a commodity, you know.

Actually, that's exactly what you are.

(softly): But you're a very nice one.

♪ ♪ Have fun.

♪ ♪ JAMES (voiceover): That was the last time I saw Frank Parris.

We were sitting at that table over there.

Alan became a regular client of mine, and then we became an item.

And finally, he came out of the closet, and of course, nobody gave a damn-- welcome to the 21st century.

Tell me about Leo-- did you ever meet him?

No.

I'd heard his name mentioned quite a lot on the circuit.

Alan met him, with Frank, a couple of times.

He used to say Leo was much sexier than me.

Exactly the sort of thing he would say.

Nothing else?

Not really.

Do you know where he came from?

Actually, maybe I do.

I have a feeling he was Australian.

Why do you say that?

Alan made a joke about him once.

He said Leo had just got back from Melbourne, so he was probably in bed with jet lag.

Ah.

You know, Alan's third book was dedicated to them.

"For Frank and Leo: In Remembrance."

What do you think he meant?

Maybe Leo died.

AIDS was still killing loads of young men, even in 2013-- 500 a year.

Leo disappeared off the scene.

That could've been why.

I take it you never read the book.

I never read any of 'em, till I was in 'em.

But I only showed up in book number five.

(chuckles) But I have got something that may help you.

I managed to dig these out for you.

They're the notes Alan made when he was writing "Atticus Pünd Takes the Case."

That is exactly what I wanted, thank you!

It's even better than that.

I found all the interviews he did when he visited the hotel.

Branlow Hall?

Yes!

He spoke to loads of people, and they're all on these memory sticks.

(gasps) Imagine that, you can actually hear Alan's voice again.

(chuckling) That'll be an experience.

I'll bet.

You can keep it all.

It's no use to me.

(chuckling) Anyway...

I suppose we should have a toast to Alan.

No.

To you and Richard.

I hope you'll be very happy together.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ALAN (on recording): Do you mind if I record this?

I don't know, really, why... Why do you want to?

I like to keep a note of everything I do.

I take it you know who I am.

I can't say I do, I'm sorry.

Alan Conway.

Well, I'm a writer-- you might have heard of me.

Are you a journalist?

It's been six weeks since the death of Mr. Parris, and we've still got journalists turning up all the time.

Some of them have even booked rooms.

I don't think we really have any more to say.

I am not a journalist.

I used to teach at Woodbridge School, but I've just given in my notice.

I'm a full-time writer now.

Fiction-- I write detective stories.

(chuckling): Oh, yes, yes, I'm sorry.

Uh, I don't really have much time for literature.

I was also a very close friend of Frank Parris.

Well, I'm very sorry.

Mm-hmm.

We were all shocked by what happened, you can imagine.

I was thinking of writing a story based on what happened here.

A novel?

Yes.

Oh, I'm not, I'm not sure I'd feel very comfortable being in a book.

Oh, I wouldn't do that.

I never use real people in my books, and certainly not without their permission.

LAWRENCE: That's room, uh, 13, Moonflower.

(recording stops) (mouse clicks) ALAN: Interview with Cecily Treherne, 24th of July 2015.

(Cecily chuckles) (clears throat) Can I just start by saying how sorry I was to hear about what happened?

And on your wedding day?

Of all days?

Thank you.

Did you manage to get away?

No, we had to postpone.

(groans) We hope to go to Antigua in a couple of weeks.

Oh-- thank you.

I'm sure it will be lovely when you get there.

How well did you know Mr. Parris, Mr. Conway?

Oh, no, Alan, please.

Well, he was a very good friend.

Although I hadn't seen him for a couple of years, after he went to Australia.

Oh.

Did you know he was coming back to this country?

No.

I did hear about the collapse of his business.

It was sad.

Frank was a very generous man.

He was quite a difficult guest.

In what way?

Didn't like his room.

Complained about the food.

And I'd be interested to know, did he have a habit of making things up?

(chuckles): What do you mean?

Well, there were two things.

First, he said his room key wasn't working.

But later on, when we checked it, it was absolutely fine.

Mm?

And there was something else that was strange.

What was that?

He told everyone he was going to the opera, to see "The Marriage of Figaro" in Snape.

Made a big thing of it.

But it was nonsense.

I actually double-checked, and it wasn't on.

"Figaro."

Why do you want to know all this, Alan?

Oh, to be honest, I... (clears throat): I'm a little bit stuck with my newest book.

I thought it might give me a few ideas.

But don't worry, I'm not going to write about any of you.

(chuckles) I'm setting my new book in Devon.

Tell me about Stefan Leonida.

He's on remand.

His trial's coming up in a few months.

Do you think he did it?

Well, there was money in his room, and Derek saw him in the corridor the night it happened, so... Derek is your night manager, yes?

Yes, but it's all irrelevant.

The police tell me he's made a full confession.

Well, you don't sound so sure.

I liked Stefan.

I trusted him.

He had a criminal record.

He wasn't the only young offender working in the hotel.

My father was running a program.

So who else?

I don't think it's fair to give out names.

No.

(stammering): I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have asked.

AIDEN: Cecily?

Oh, this is Aiden, my husband.

Yes, we've met.

I showed Mr. Conway to his room.

(chuckles): Oh.

I hope it's all right.

Fine, thank you.

Alan's been asking me about the murder.

AIDEN: Yes.

I was told you were talking to Lawrence.

We had a brief chat.

Forgive me, Mr. Conway.

I know who you are and what you write.

But it's my job to look after the interests of this hotel, and, all in all, I don't think we need any more publicity.

And I really don't think you could stop me writing what I want.

No, but I can politely ask you to stop asking intrusive questions.

No offense meant.

(blowing out) ALAN: Aiden?

No.

(key clacking) (gasps): Archie?

(grunts): No.

(slowly): Algernon.

Yes!

(thunder cracks) Algernon Marsh had no decency, no scruples, and no loyalty to anyone.

(thunder rumbling) This was something his brother-in-law, Dr. Leonard Collins, was about to discover.

You are a swine, Leonard.

You weren't going to tell me.

How dare you search through my desk.

I was looking for the bus timetable.

(exhales): But this is what I found.

"The last will and testament of Clarissa Marsh, late of Brooklyn, New York."

£980,000.

She left it to Samantha, not to you.

Ooh, she was my aunt, too.

Oh, she saw you for what you were, Algernon.

And so did Melissa.

Those shares you were selling her weren't worth the paper they were printed on.

How do you know that?

She told me!

She knew you were lying to her.

Mmm.

Well, you'd know a thing or two about lying, wouldn't you, Leonard?

I don't know what you're talking about.

£980,000.

(chuckles) She didn't want you to have the money, and there is nothing you can do about it.

See, that's where I think you might be wrong, Leonard.

You can talk to Samantha.

You can persuade her to divide it two ways, 50-50.

And why in God's name would I do that?

Because there are things that Melissa told me about you, Leonard.

Things that might make my sister see you in a very different light.

Are you threatening me?

Do you know?

I think I might be.

And where is Samantha now?

In the church, hmm?

'Cause that might make a very good place to have a little chat.

♪ ♪ (thunder cracks) SUSAN: So, eight years ago, Alan Conway visits Branlow Hall.

He talks to Lawrence, he talks to Aiden and Cecily, to Derek.

And he must have met Derek's mother, too, because she's in the book.

And he turns them all into caricatures.

(both chuckling) Um, shall we, um... Shall we get another one?

Oh, my God, have we finished it?

Well, it's been that sort of day, hasn't it?

(both laughing) Uh, just a glass.

Okay.

Excuse me?

Yes, sir.

Two more glasses, please.

Of course.

He must have known who killed Frank Parris.

Yeah, but it might've been, um... Oh, God, what was his name again, Stefan...?

Leonida?

Yeah.

Well, yeah, except if it was Stefan, it would've been an open and shut case.

And DS Locke would've actually got it right for once.

But I just don't think that would've interested Alan.

Well.

It's quite a puzzle.

Mmm.

Why did Alan have to be so bloody inscrutable?

Inscrutable.

Mmm.

I love that word-- it's so Edgar Wallace.

Oh, God, don't tell me you used to read him.

Yeah, pulp fiction-- I loved him.

(laughing) When I was about five.

(laughing) Do you have to go back to Suffolk tomorrow?

I'm working for the Trehernes.

I'm on the payroll.

They won't miss you for one more day, will they?

I need to see Katie again.

I'm worried about her.

There's something she isn't telling me.

I said we'd have supper.

I'll be honest with you, Susan, it's really great to see you again.

Here you are, madam.

Thank you.

Cheers.

Cheers.

(chuckles) Oh, she's always been the sensible one.

Is she older than you?

No!

Younger!

(laughs) (laughing): Oh, God.

But Katie's married, she's got two children, she's got a sensible job.

(chuckles) Oh, a part of me's always envied her.

Well, I would've said that Crete was much more of an adventure.

(sighing): Yeah, you would've thought so.

It hasn't really turned out like that.

Here we are.

Shall we, uh, have a little nightcap?

SUSAN: Why not?

(both laugh) (jazz playing softly in background) Oh, wow.

(both laugh) So, will you go back?

Where?

Crete.

Um... Hmm... (whispers): I don't know.

(sniffs) No, no.

(chuckles) Hmm.

Don't think so.

Sorry, sorry.

Oh, just, uh... Don't be.

No, you're, you're right.

You need to go back to editing.

(chuckles) Yeah, my books were so much better when you were working on them.

That's not true.

Mmm?

Hmm.

You should tell Parker Chance... ...that if they give you a job, I'll come over to them.

(glasses clink) Oh, well, I think they'd like that.

(chuckles) (jazz continues) I've really missed you, Susan.

Oh.

What are you doing?

Well, don't, don't tell me I've offended you.

No.

No, no, you haven't offended me.

But I...

But what?

No, I...

I'm really grateful, Craig, I, I am-- I mean... Mm-hmm.

But I'm still with Andreas, so...

But you just told me that you... No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Oh, come on.

Look, you're fed up with Crete, you're fed up with the hotel...

Yes, but I'm not fed up with him.

Then why have you been leading me on?

What?

(chuckles) No, I... (inhales) No, Craig, you have completely misread this.

Oh, I don't think that I have.

Yeah, no.

(mutters): Craig.

I did not come here...

Right, I think I'm gonna have to... Oh, God.

I'm gonna have to go.

CRAIG: What?!

No, no, no, you, you can't go.

You're, you're too drunk to drive!

I'm gonna get a cab.

(Craig exhales) (jazz continues) (laughs, sighs) ♪ ♪ Oh!

Taxi!

Hi-- uh, nearest hotel, please.

Hi.

Hi.

Um, can I book a room...

Yes, of course.

...please, for the, for the night.

Where's my phone?

My phone.

Where's my... Oh, my God.

(sighs) Must have left it in the cab.

(exhales): Great.

(softly): God.

(exhales) (jackhammer pounding, reversing signal beeps) (people talking in background) (construction continues in distance) (baby crying) (cup clanks heavily on table) (groans) (baby crying) CHUBB: I have to say, this is very good of you, Mr. Pünd.

Oh, the pleasure is all mine.

Mmm, it's one of the benefits of being a private investigator that it is the client who pays.

I'll send the bill to Mr. Schultz.

And now who is that?

He was Melissa James's agent.

PÜND: Her American agent.

(chuckles) It's he who employed me.

Well, I'm glad you're here.

This case is a right puzzler, and no mistake.

Nothing makes any sense.

Oh, I do not agree.

It's, it's certainly, on one level, it's complicated, but on another, everything is straightforward.

Go on, then.

No fewer than seven people may have wished to kill Melissa James, all of them for the most ordinary reasons.

Lance and Maureen Gardner.

She knew they were defrauding her.

PÜND: Indeed so.

MISS CAIN: Phyllis Chandler and that ghastly son of hers-- a Peeping Tom, of all things.

That was an unpleasant business she discovered.

What, you think his mother was protecting him?

Well, it's possible.

And then there is Algernon Marsh.

Oh, God, a nasty piece of work.

Also cheating her, in his case with a, an investment almost certainly valueless.

Oscar Berlin.

She decided not to appear in his film.

That would've ruined him.

And John Spencer.

Now, that's where I'd put my money, Mr. Pünd.

Do you think he knew Miss James was having an affair?

Jealous husband who strangles his wife?

(chuckles) Just like Shakespeare.

Uh, uh, Othello!

He strangled Desdemona for exactly that reason.

Mmm-- hmm.

Well, the motivation is clear.

But it is the order of events that perplexes.

At 6:28, Melissa James is alone in the house.

The Chandlers have the night off.

Her husband is at the opera.

Then she calls Dr. Collins.

She's in tears, in fear of her life.

She makes the call from downstairs.

So it would seem.

She tells Dr. Collins that there is an intruder in the house.

She says quite distinctly, "He wants to kill me."

The call is overheard by his wife.

That is correct-- I wonder only why she then returns to her bedroom.

If, if Miss James believed herself to be in danger, why did she not leave the house?

Oh...

I know you'll find out who did this, Mr. Pünd.

Forgive me for saying this, but, um, I hope they hang.

I'd say that's unlikely, Miss Cain.

Do you not think Mr. Pünd will solve the case?

CHUBB: I'm sure he will.

The death penalty's all too rare these days.

Judges no longer have the appetite for it.

They're actually talking about changing the law.

(chuckles) More's the pity, in my view.

What do you say, Mr. Pünd?

I have seen too much death in my life, Detective Inspector.

It's my belief that to kill a killer is to descend to his or to her level.

But to think someone could kill a woman as talented as Melissa James and get away with it!

I agree with Miss Cain.

Then we must at least ensure that they are apprehended.

Hmm.

Oh, uh... (chuckles) Almost forgot, uh...

I do have one piece of information which may be of help, Mr. Pünd.

I did as you said and checked out that theater in Barnstaple, the night that John Spencer claims he went to "The Marriage of Figaro."

PÜND: The lead singer was struck down by a car that did not stop.

And the performance was canceled.

So wherever he was, Mr. Spencer wasn't there.

Cheers.

I just don't get it.

What is so important about "The Marriage of Figaro"?

It's an opera!

PÜND: You don't like opera?

Well...

I've never really got it.

The stories are just so ridiculous, and miserable.

I mean, women throwing themselves off castle walls or dying of consumption.

"Tosca" and "La Bohème."

(chuckles) Ah.

You're a fan.

Oh, yeah, I went often to the Vienna State Opera House.

It was before it was destroyed in the war.

Will you have any breakfast?

I think not.

I shouldn't have come.

To London?

To England.

But you've made progress.

Well, yes.

(chuckles) Yes.

I've blown my one chance of returning to publishing, which probably means I'll spend the rest of my life changing sheets and shouting at waiters in a language that I can't even speak.

But you are perhaps closer to discovering the truth.

(sighs) Why did Frank Parris go to the hotel, hmm?

He lied about his key not working, and then again...

The opera.

John Spencer did exactly the same in the book.

But if he didn't go to the opera, where did he go?

Oh!

(quietly): When's the next flight back to Crete?

ANDREAS (speaking Greek): VANGELIS: ANDREAS: MAN: Uh, service?

VANGELIS: Coming!

(cell phone ringing) (phone ringing) (chuckles) Yes?

Who's this?

(on phone): This is Craig Andrews.

Sorry, can I speak to Susan Ryeland, please?

She's not here, I'm afraid.

Um... (clicks tongue) She was here last night, and, uh... She left her phone.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (gasps): Katie!

♪ ♪ (doorbell rings) (doorbell rings) Sir?

CHUBB: How you bearing up, Mr. Spencer?

Um, not so bad, thank you.

Do you have any news?

Yes, sir, we do.

You made an arrest?

We're about to.

We just have a few questions, if you don't mind.

No, of course.

Anything.

Mr. Spencer, although it is, um, painful to ask you this, even so, it is necessary.

Were you aware that your wife was having an affair?

We do need an answer, sir.

I didn't know.

But I'm not surprised.

(conversation continues through door) (softly): Why are they here?

(softly): They didn't say.

(conversation continues) (stammers): What do they want?

What do you think they want?

They're here about you.

But you still loved her, hmm?

She meant everything to me.

We found a letter.

It's written in her hand.

(clears throat) "My darling darling.

"I can't go on living this lie anymore.

"I simply can't.

"We have to be brave and tell the world about the love we share."

Any idea who this might've been written to?

Of course I don't-- I have no idea at all.

Do you mind if I...?

Mmm.

Thank you.

(lighter clicks) Mr. Spencer, on the night of your wife's death, you told us you was at the opera, attending a performance of "The Marriage of Figaro."

Yeah, that's right, she was meant to come with me, but she changed her mind.

So you went alone.

Yes.

Did you enjoy it?

Yes-- no, no!

Why are you asking me that?

Because on the night in question, the opera was canceled, sir.

So you couldn't have gone to it.

So where were you?

♪ ♪ (John exhales) PÜND: It would not be wise to tell us further untruths, Mr. Spencer.

It's too late now for that.

I was here.

You never left?

No, I, I left-- I drove as far as the village.

But I was in no mood for the opera.

(voice trembling): I came back and... And you confronted your wife.

Oh, we had a terrible row.

She told me she was leaving me.

And?

You murdered her.

Yes!

Yes, I strangled her in the bedroom.

(exhales heavily) Oh, thank God.

Oh, thank God it's over.

Yeah, you won't believe it, but it's all I've wanted, just for it to be over.

I'll make a full confession-- I'll tell you everything.

Am I under arrest?

If you'll come with me, sir, we'll formally charge you when we get to the station.

May I go upstairs to get my shoes and a jacket?

CHUBB: Of course, sir.

We'll wait for you here.

Thank you.

You've no idea how sorry I am.

How much I hate myself.

I couldn't have lived with this any longer.

(door opens) Forgive me, Detective Inspector, but... (clears throat): ...is that wise?

He, he could make a run for it.

I don't think so, Miss Cain.

I have two men outside.

Yet, it is interesting, though, that... (chuckles): ...there's so much that is not right.

In what way?

Well, the argument.

Did it take place here or in the bedroom?

Maybe it happened in here, and he followed her up.

And if he was angry with her, violent, even, why did she not lock the door?

Or better still, and I've asked this question before, why did she not leave the house?

Well, I agree there are plenty of questions we still need to ask, Mr. Pünd.

That's why I'm taking him to the station.

But you heard him.

We had him bang to rights, and he confessed!

You can't argue with that.

Mmm.

Ooh, Mr. Pünd!

There's someone outside!

She's right!

I saw him, too!

But who?

That's what I mean to find out.

Will you stay here, Miss Cain?

Oh, yes, of course.

Either of you two see anything?

No, sir.

CHUBB: Right, there's an intruder in the grounds!

One of you stay here and make sure Mr. Spencer doesn't leave.

And you, round the other way!

♪ ♪ PÜND: There's nobody.

Anything?

Nothing, sir.

Right, keep looking round.

There was definitely someone here.

I think a man.

Where does that go?

It's the kitchen, I think.

Has anyone come in here?

No, sir.

And neither of you been out?

PHYLLIS: No, sir.

We've been here all the time.

(sighs) (exhales) (Miss Cain screams) Miss Cain?

(groaning): What now?

(screaming) CHUBB (shouting): Miss Cain!

(Miss Cain whimpering) Oh, no!

(yelps) (yelps) (grunts) (panting) (click) ♪ ♪ You met Alan Conway.

What actually happened?

ALGERNON: One thing led to another.

MISS CAIN: I think you'd better sit down.

Mr. Pünd has something to tell you.

SUSAN: I'm trying to help you find Cecily.

The only way I can do that is to know what she knew.

LAWRENCE: Susan.

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