Episode 5

♪ ♪ ATTICUS PÜND: It is often the connections we cannot see that lead us to the truth.

♪ ♪ CLARISSA: Dingle Dell is a much loved part of the village.

A precious resource!

JACK: The new development?

There's no way that'll go ahead now.

MAGNUS PYE: It's all gone!

PÜND: I noticed a silver brooch in the window.

I told you it was too soon put it in a window!

DOCTOR: I'm afraid the tumor is very advanced.

I need some help!

SUSAN: How well did you know Alan Conway?

JAFFREY: "Magpie Murders," that was my title, I gave him the idea.

I wish I'd never married you!

KATIE: Dad's had a stroke.

He's in Ipswich Hospital.

My father, all of it, is in the book.

God!

He played games designed to hurt people!

KHAN: Alan Conway's death could not be more timely where you are concerned.

I was lucky.

I was a in major relationship with a Greek teacher when I met Alan.

SUSAN: Greek teacher?

MELISSA: Andreas, do you know him?

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ CONWAY: "Lord Quincey lords it over butlers and footmen "that exist only in his anfractuous imagination.

"The house is a shell, the larder, void.

"The very countryside ravaged by a locust cloud "of modern politics and ancient hatreds.

"'And so the poor dog has none,' he murmurs, "unaware that the dog is, in fact...

himself."

Thank you.

Comments?

Don't be shy, I've commented on your work.

You should feel free to comment on mine.

Yes, it's, uh... Lee Jaffrey.

Yes, of course, go on.

Uh, I liked it.

I thought it was interesting and, uh... just really interesting.

Mm.

(clears throat) Yes?

I'm not sure I get it.

Well, what is there to get?

What's it about?

It's about empire.

About the aristocracy.

About the collapse of civility.

Yeah, that's great, but, are there any murders?

No, no, it's not a murder mystery.

It's not a whodunit.

It's actually about something that matters.

Yeah, but why does a book have to matter?

Why can't it just be enjoyed?

(scoffs) Are you seriously asking me that question?

(chuckles) You're not writing anymore Atticus Pünd then?

Atticus Pünd!?

If that's the level of your expectations, maybe you're wasting your time, and mine, on this course.

I only asked.

Remind me, what's your name?

It's Brent.

Brent.

I'll remember you.

♪ ♪ (pen scratching) CONWAY: Brent, the gardener at Pye Hall, lived in a two-up, two-down he had inherited from his mother.

She had long gone.

And now he lived alone.

Early the next morning, he pushed aside his foul-smelling laundry and the Boy Scout magazines he liked to read, and lifted a floorboard to recover the property he had stolen.

This was, of course, part of the treasure trove of Sir Magnus Pye, which had been found by the lake.

And which had been stolen, it was thought, by burglars.

Brent, of course, had no idea of its true value.

But then he was ignorant about almost everything.

Hm.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Ah, you're up early.

You sleep okay?

Uh, no, not really.

Coffee?

Thanks.

You're leaving already?

Mm.

Gotta get back to London.

Susan, are you still angry with me?

Is this about me and Alan Conway?

Oh, no, no!

No, it's not that.

It, it's something else.

Andreas.

Tell me.

I don't even know where to start.

Somebody sent me an email-- don't ask me who it was from.

It was anonymous.

It arrived last night from an account I've never heard of.

About Andreas?

Yeah.

What did it say?

It, it accused him of something.

Let me see it.

No, no, no, no, I just need to see him.

We'll sort it out.

And listen, What happened between us last night doesn't matter.

Really, none of it matters.

Best be on my way.

You're not staying for breakfast?

Uh, no, I'm okay.

Are you going to the hospital?

Later this morning, yeah.

♪ ♪ (phone chimes) (birds chirping) SUSAN: Hi.

That was quick.

You've caught me on my way to London.

Come in.

JAMES: So what'd you think?

My big speech after the funeral?

I hope you were there for it.

Yeah, I heard most of it.

I wasn't too mean, was I?

Well, you were a bit.

They all hate me, they think I'm a gold-digger.

A gay gold-digger-- makes it worse.

Aw, I think you're being a bit hard on them.

Well, it doesn't matter.

I won't have to see any of them ever again.

I wasn't expecting to see you again.

Would you like a coffee?

Uh, no, I'm okay, thanks.

You said you had something that might help me.

You're still looking for that missing chapter?

Yes, have you found it?

No such luck, I had a look around, I didn't find anything.

Then, I had a thought-- God, this place is such a tip, you've no idea how glad I'll be to get out of here.

Uh, James?

(sighs) Yeah, sorry, so you and I searched through Alan's study, which is where he kept everything, but on my last day here, just before he died, there was a copy right here.

Do you know where it is?

No, but someone could have taken it.

His sister came round that day.

I know, because I saw her on the way out.

♪ ♪ SUSAN: Why would she have taken it?

She was angry with him, I told you.

She did the typing and everything, but they had a falling out.

Ah, right, um...

It was just a thought, thought it might help.

Oh, no, thank you-- no, thanks.

Uh, look, um, while I'm here, I just wondered if I could ask you something.

Yeah, go on.

Did you ever meet this man?

Can't say I recognize him, no.

He never came here?

Don't think so, what's his name?

Andreas Patakis, he taught at the same school as Alan.

Before Alan became an author.

Actually, wait a minute, yeah, that name does ring a bell.

Andreas Patakis, he's Greek.

Yes, yeah.

Yes, Alan told me about him.

He wanted money.

How'd you know that?

(groans) JAMES: What is it?

Well, whatever it is, it's annoyed you, I can tell.

It's someone I used to know.

Andreas Patakis, a Greek teacher.

Ah, he says he's coming here.

How'd he get your email?

That's a good question.

What's he want?

What do you think he wants, James?

It's what everyone wants, it's what you want-- money.

I don't want your money.

He knew me in another lifetime and he thinks he can come here and call on me like I'm some kind of bank.

What're you gonna do?

He can drive all the way here if he wants.

And then when he gets here, I'll tell him to sod off.

SUSAN (voiceover): So if Alan wasn't gonna lend him money, why would he even see him?

Because it would amuse him.

To let him drive all the way here and then say no.

And did he come to Abbey Grange?

I have no idea.

Is he a friend of yours?

Yes.

Then I'm sorry.

♪ ♪ I just can't believe it.

(shifts gears) Andreas was there.

PÜND: He lied to you.

He said he was coming over Saturday at lunchtime, but that he'd be out in the evening.

Out visiting Alan Conway?

No, that's not what he said.

What time will I see you tomorrow?

I'll come at lunchtime, but I'm out in the evening.

Oh, where?

We're rehearsing the school play.

You got in late last night, where were you?

I told you, the school play.

PÜND: It's the very nature of a murder investigation.

You should have prepared yourself.

Everyone lies.

Not Andreas.

Oh, the more you know someone, the more likely they are to deceive you.

In your world, not mine.

Are they really so very different?

It just doesn't make any sense.

What reason could Andreas possibly have to kill Alan Conway?

Andreas wanted to borrow money for his hotel, and when Alan refused him, he just went and got the money elsewhere, from his cousin.

Is that what he told you?

Well, people get turned down for loans all the time, it doesn't mean they go and blow up the bank.

(sighs) All right.

Why would he kill him?

Why does anyone kill anyone?

(shifts gears) That's a very good question, do you have the answer?

I can think of four reasons.

Fear, envy, anger, and desire.

There must be others.

No, from my experience, the extremes of human behavior, they always come down to those four things.

Fear, envy... Anger, desire.

(laughs) I mean, Andreas just wouldn't kill anybody.

He doesn't have it in him.

He needed money to fund his hotel in Crete.

He turned to Alan Conway, not just out of desire, but out of desperation.

And for a Greek man to be turned down, to be humiliated... (slams brakes) Do you mind getting out?!

(exhales) You want me to leave?

I was only putting forward certain possibilities.

Yes, well, I don't want to hear them!

(engine roars) ♪ ♪ (sighs) (magpies chittering) (doorbell rings) Yes?

Don't you remember me?

We met.

Yeah.

Could we have another word?

SUSAN: Last time I was here, I asked you about "Magpie Murders," about the manuscript, and you said you hadn't seen it.

That's right.

Yeah, well, uh, I'm sorry, Claire, but I just don't believe you.

There was a copy at your brother's house the day you went to see him.

And it wasn't there after you left.

Who told you that?

It doesn't matter.

Was it James?

Look, I'm on my way to London, I really don't need this.

I just want to know: did you read it?

(sighs) You knew you were in it-- the last time I was here, I mentioned that you were a character in the book.

The spinster sister.

Yes, you weren't even slightly surprised, and that's because you'd read it.

I'd read some of it.

You took the manuscript.

Yes.

Do you still have it?

No, I burned it.

(exasperated sigh) CLAIRE (voiceover): I didn't know what I was doing.

I wasn't going to give it back to him.

But I couldn't bear having it in the house.

I just wanted to get rid of it, so I did.

You didn't read the last chapter?

I read half a dozen pages.

That was all I needed.

Huh.

You have no idea what it was like.

Yes, I'm on my own, yes, I have no money.

But that didn't give him the right to ridicule me, to turn me into some sort of grotesque loser.

Claire, Clarissa, the pathetic sister.

Anyone reading it would have known that was me.

He had no right to do that, no right at all!

Yes, I agree.

(sighs) He humiliated me long before he wrote "Magpie Murders."

I was his secretary, his dogsbody, working for him for ten pounds an hour, and he was always flaunting how much money he had, how famous he'd become, while I was stuck here.

Then, even when I tried to help him, when I introduced him to Detective Inspector Locke for his research, well, that blew up in my face.

He turned him into a character, too.

LOCKE (voiceover): Miss Ryeland.

Can I ask what you're doing here?

Herr Pünd!

CLAIRE (voiceover): Alan put him in the book without so much as a "by your leave," and I never heard the end of it.

(stammering): Alan was, was never grateful.

He was never... (tearfully): ...kind.

And I'm glad he's dead.

I really am.

♪ ♪ There you are, Pünd!

I've been looking everywhere for you.

James, let me ask you a question.

Yes?

The taking of a life is the greatest crime it is possible to commit, you would agree?

I think most people would, yes.

So what about the taking of one's own life?

Is there an equivalence?

What a strange question.

Why are you asking it?

Heh, oh no, just thinking about my book.

Well, there's no time for that now, you better hop in.

Detective Inspector Chubb's been looking for you.

(chuckles) Oh, yeah.

♪ ♪ Speak of the devil.

On you go.

Sir.

Glad you can make it, Pünd.

I've been following up on that silver brooch of yours.

You have found something, Detective Inspector?

(exhales) Indeed, I have.

Amazing what turns up in a quiet village like this.

Come, follow me.

Now, I already told Mr. Pund here... Pünd.

WHITELEY: I bought the brooch in good faith.

A local market, and now it's gone.

How much did you sell it for?

WHITELEY: I don't remember-- Gemma?

Three quid.

CHUBB: Who to?

He didn't give a name.

And yet you told me that he had reserved the piece.

Dave, that's all he said.

CHUBB: You are aware that there was a burglary at Pye Hall recently?

I did hear something, yes.

And not long after, Sir Magnus Pye ends up dead.

I hope you're not suggesting that there was any connection.

We know who you are, Mr. Whitelaw!

Mr. Pünd thought he knew your face, and it weren't so hard to check up on you.

Jack Whitelaw, a member of the so-called Mansion Gang, professional burglars operating in Kensington and Chelsea-- you thought you could hide out here, did you?

We're not hiding, we, we've started again.

Started what again, hm?

Receiving stolen goods?

Our lives.

We didn't know it was stolen.

Because you didn't ask.

Where is it?

(sighs) (rattling) I didn't know it had anything to do with Sir Magnus.

It's not even that valuable.

A couple of shilling, half a crown.

Not much more.

GEMMA: You people will never leave us alone, will you?

Whatever happened to a second chance?

Who sold it to you?

BRENT: He said it was worth next to nothing.

He gave me a quid.

I think you're missing the point, Mr. Brent.

Where's the rest of it?

That's all there is.

(pries open floorboard) And this.

You stole these pieces from Sir Magnus.

No, I didn't, that's not true!

Then where did you get them?

I found 'em.

Show us.

Hmm?

That was here.

What, they were just lying on the ground, were they?

They were in the grass.

I was mowing the lawn and I found them.

On what day was this?

The day after the break-in.

You knew what had been taken from Pye Hall?

Yes.

You must have been aware that this was part of a collection of Roman antiquities belonging to your employer.

So the thieves must have dropped part of the haul as they made their getaway.

(chuckles) You did not think to return them to Sir Magnus?

Why should I?

He fired me.

He'd blamed me for what had happened even though it was no fault of mine.

They were all insured anyway, there was only two pieces.

CHUBB: Are you sure of that?

Not holding anything back?

BRENT: There was nothing else.

PÜND: Well, you should nonetheless have given what you found to the police.

Particularly in the light of the sudden death of your employer.

CHUBB: Withholding evidence, theft, I mean, you realize I could have you up before the magistrate for that!

I found them, they were only worth a few quid.

They were worth a lot more than that, I can tell you.

There's something quite gloomy about it, isn't there?

Oh yes, indeed, James.

This is where Sam Blakiston died all those years ago, and it is, you could say, where all the troubles we are investigating began.

You think what happened then is relevant to what's happened now?

The past and the present.

One feeds on the other, the two are inseparable.

Mary Blakiston walked past every day on her way to work.

I don't know how she did it.

PÜND: Mary Blakiston's Lodge House, where she and her sons lived.

Detective Inspector, there are two things that I must request of you.

The first is that you engage divers to go beneath the surface of the lake, see what they discover.

What are you expecting to find, Mr. Pünd?

Another dead body?

(chuckles) I hope not.

I also require access to the Lodge House.

We should have visited it before.

CHUBB: I'm sure that's easily arranged.

I have a key.

There you are, then.

You go on ahead, I'll sort out this lake of yours.

(approaching footsteps, keys jangling) JAMES: It's an empty house, what do you expect to find?

The dead always leave something behind, hm?

Memories.

(chuckles) No, James, more than that.

(door creaks) Oh, you do not wish to join us, Mr. Brent?

I never came inside this house when the family was here, and I'm not starting now.

You lock the door behind you when you're done.

(sighs) (sighs) ROBERT (voiceover): We're getting married in the church in July.

MARY (voiceover): No.

JOY (voiceover): I'm sorry?

You are not going to marry my son.

ROBERT: Mum.

I'm thinking about future generations.

They can't be tainted.

I won't have it.

You're not being serious.

I won't even discuss it.

MARY (voiceover): Now, I'm warning you, Robert.

This marriage will not go ahead.

(wind echoes) (distant, muffled chatter, laughter) (children playing, echoing) YOUNG ROBERT (distant, echoing): Mummy!

This house... YOUNG ROBERT (distant): Please help me, Mummy!

You feel it too?

Mmm.

(distant laughter) (chimes ringing, children playing distantly) JAMES: A child's room.

But which child?

YOUNG ROBERT (distant): Give it to me, Sam, it's mine!

(Sam crying) What do you think?

Mary Blakiston's sewing room.

PÜND: A room with a view.

YOUNG SAM (distantly): Bella, come here, girl!

(echoing laughter) (dog barking, children laughing, bird squawking) Hm.

(pulls open drawer) Oh... See here, James.

Hm?

FRASER: Bella.

PÜND: This was the dog belonging to the two children.

What's the collar doing here?

That is indeed the question.

(drops hat) ♪ ♪ Now, this is interesting.

♪ ♪ (flicks lighter) ♪ ♪ (distant bell tolling) FRASER: I have to say, I need this.

That house gave me the creeps.

The Lodge House, yes.

(softly): Mm.

It had many memories.

But this...

This is of great interest.

Mm, Mary Blakiston kept a diary.

Oh, it's more than a diary, James.

(quietly): This is a record of almost everyone who inhabits Saxby-on-Avon.

Hm.

Ah.

(slight chuckle) You see here, James, hm?

She discovered the truth about Jack Whiteley.

Do you think she was blackmailing him?

That is indeed the question.

Well, maybe he was the one who pushed her down the stairs.

And not her son.

I imagine he'd have done anything to hide his secret.

Still, if the whole village is in there, it could have been any of them.

There are some for whom knowledge means money and power.

But there are others who enjoy it simply for the pleasure that it brings, hm?

The sense of being in control.

And you think Mary Blakiston was more like that.

I will study this tonight.

But look here, James, hm?

Does this not tell you a great deal about the murder of Sir Magnus?

What exactly is it you're looking at?

It's not what is written.

It is how it is written.

That is where the solution can be found.

Hm... (closes diary) ♪ ♪ WHITELEY: Mary Blakiston?

Nosey parker.

But I had no interest in her.

But she, Mr. Whiteley, had a great interest in you.

She had that?

She never said nothing to me.

Not a word.

The last time I was here, Miss Pye, you told me that you never wrote to your brother with regard to the development at, uh, Dingle Dell.

That's correct.

And yet in her diary, Mary Blakiston suggests otherwise.

Does she?

She says she saw you.

PÜND (voiceover): You cycled up to the house and delivered the letter.

You believed the house to be empty.

This was while your brother and his wife were on holiday, the week before he was murdered.

Well, she's either mistaken or she's lying.

And now she's dead.

She can't answer for herself.

CLARISSA: Exactly.

And yet she claims that she saw you deliver a letter and a threatening letter was indeed received.

It was written on a Brown Optima Elite typewriter.

(chuckles) That is, I believe, a typewriter of the same make.

Well, what if I did write it?

It's a free country.

I didn't break any law.

You made certain threats.

I used strong language.

Sometimes you have to do that if you believe in something passionately.

Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore.

Dingle Dell is saved.

The development isn't happening.

We won!

(quietly): Hm.

Yes.

I'm afraid this was very much part of her character.

She had a strong interest in the local community.

(snorts) That's putting it charitably.

It's my job to put things charitably, Mr. Fraser.

Fair point.

She was closely connected with the church?

Mary helped us a great deal.

Flower arrangements.

Harvest Festival.

Is it possible that she might have gained some of her information here?

Absolutely not.

I can assure you I am always completely discreet about the lives of my parishioners.

I would never betray their confidence.

(chuckling): I, I did not mean to suggest otherwise.

Uh, her funeral was well attended?

It was.

Yes.

Mary had many friends in the village.

You were aware that she had argued very publicly with her son only the day before?

It was unfortunate timing.

People often say things they regret, Mr. Pünd, but I've known Robert all his life and I'm sure there was no malice intended.

He was there.

Indeed so.

And he was very upset.

Mary Blakiston made Saxby-on-Avon a better place for everyone.

Whether it was helping in the church, collecting for the RSPB, or greeting visitors to Pye Hall.

Her homemade cakes were always a star of the village fête and her flower arrangements were a good reason to come to Sunday service.

So although we're here today to mourn her departure, we must also remember what she left behind.

No!

No!

(sobbing) OSBORNE (voiceover): Robert was in real pain.

He didn't even speak to his father.

He left the cemetery the moment the service ended.

His father was there?

Matthew Blakiston, yes.

We stayed in touch after he left the village and, of course, I told him what had occurred.

Reverend Osborne, I wonder if I might have a copy of the sermon that you delivered?

PÜND: You must forgive me for asking you a personal question, Lady Pye.

But what can you tell me of a man by the name of Charles Dartford?

Charles?

What do you want to know about him?

He's a friend of mine.

A financial advisor.

And you were with him in London on the evening that your husband died.

Yes.

Would you describe him as a close friend?

(exhales) Are you insinuating something, Mr. Pünd?

Well, I'm sorry to have to tell you, but Mary Blakiston made certain allegations about you, Lady Pye.

Uh, she kept a diary.

(Frances laughs) Why doesn't that surprise me?

She always did like to see herself as the spider at the heart of the web, spitting out her poison.

When did you last speak to her?

We spoke every day.

I rang her the morning she died, and when she didn't answer, I thought there must be something wrong.

I tried her twice more, but of course, by then she was gone.

She never mentioned Charles Dartford to you?

No.

Or to your husband?

Hm?

I see what you're getting at.

But... no.

She never threatened me.

And, as I told you, she was in thrall to Magnus.

She would have never said or done anything to upset him.

So I think it's right to say my little secret was safe with her.

It certainly is now.

(sharp exhale) ♪ ♪ You all right there?

Yeah.

Well done.

I don't believe it.

This looks like it's the rest of Sir Magnus's treasure trove.

That's exactly what it is, Detective Inspector.

But I don't get it.

Why would the burglars go through the trouble of stealing it simply to throw it in the lake?

PÜND: Because they were not burglars.

FRASER: But wait a minute, Pünd.

How did you know this would be here?

Oh.

That was simple, James.

Brent told us he found two objects: the statuette and the brooch on the lawn.

He had nothing to gain by lying to us.

So the question is: how did they get there?

They were dropped.

Exactly.

If the burglars would have been genuine, they surely would have taken the silver in their car.

Straight up the drive.

Could have come by foot.

Oh, even so, they still would have departed the same way.

No, no, no, no.

The objects were found between the house and the lake.

So the burglary-- There was no burglary.

Whoever broke into Pye Hall just days prior to the murder of Sir Magnus did so for a very different reason.

What reason was that?

Very soon, Detective Inspector, all will be made clear.

FRASER: You are maddening, PÜND.

If you know something, why can't you just spit it out?

To know something is not enough, James.

It's when I know everything that I will speak.

Do you know who killed Sir Magnus?

I have a good idea.

Well, how about Mary Blakiston?

Oh, that's much simpler.

Go on.

Mary Blakiston was killed by Lady Frances Pye.

Lady Frances!

You're not serious.

I'm entirely serious.

She told us as much herself.

Why?

I suppose because Mary knew about her affair.

No, no, no.

No.

That's not the reason at all.

Then what?

Think.

Recall.

Analyze.

It will come to you.

(sighs) (soft chuckle) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (places bag and keys down) ANDREAS (voicemail): This is Andreas.

I'm not here at the moment.

Please leave a message after the beep.

Thank you.

(beep) Andreas, it's me.

I need to talk to you.

It's urgent.

I've left you messages.

Can you call me, please?

♪ ♪ Andreas.

Susan, what are-- I've been trying to reach you.

Why haven't you returned my calls?

I haven't got my phone.

I called you twice.

I've texted.

We need to talk.

Not now.

I'm teaching.

(students snicker) (groans) (door slams, snickering continues) (school bell rings, door opens) (indistinct chatter) (door closes) So, what's wrong?

(exasperated sigh) Quite a lot now you mention it.

But let's start with Crete.

Have you made a decision?

Where did you get the money from?!

For the hotel?

I told you.

Your cousin Yannis borrowed it.

Who from?

The bank.

I don't know.

What does it matter?

And you didn't have to chip in anything?

You didn't have to go halves?

You know I don't have that sort of money.

I'm not sure what I know anymore.

Susan, I don't understand.

What's wrong?

This.

W-where did you get this?

Somebody sent it to me.

Who took it?

I don't know!

I presume the person who sent it.

And what do you think it shows?

Isn't it obvious?!

Not necessarily.

Well then why don't you tell me?

(places phone down) What do you want to know?

Let's start last Saturday.

You drove to Suffolk.

To his house.

Yes.

Just out of interest, how did you know where he lived?

I got it off your computer.

You hacked my computer?

No, no... You left it open.

So you weren't rehearsing the school play, which is what you told me.

Your cousin Yannis doesn't have any money.

You drove to Suffolk.

You asked Alan to lend you the money, and when he turned you down, you took him up to... Stop!

Stop!

Slow down.

Listen.

Polydorus, the hotel, is an opportunity for me to change my life.

(scoffs) You know I'm not happy teaching Ancient Greek.

I feel like I'm wasting my time.

There's only one reason I've stayed in this country as long as I have and that's you.

Oh, please don't tell me that!

But it's true!

I want to go home.

I want you to come with me.

I think we'll be happy there.

You've seen the pictures.

It's a little slice of heaven.

Andreas!

You lied to me.

You asked Alan for the money.

I shouldn't have lied to you but I had nowhere else to go.

I needed 150,000 Euros.

You tell me.

Where do you think I was going to find money like that?

But Alan?!

I knew him before you did.

Don't forget that.

(scoffs) We were both teachers at the same school and we were close.

Well, yes, you were sleeping with his wife.

You didn't tell me that either!

Susan, what's wrong with you?

I went out with Melissa before she met Alan and before I met you.

Why didn't you tell me?!

Why would I?!

Have you told me every man you've ever slept with?

Oh!

I've been married and divorced.

You know you're not the first woman I've ever been with.

All right!

Just stop!

Forget, forget about that.

It doesn't matter.

Tell me about Alan.

(humorless chuckle) You mean why I killed him?

(sighs) Just tell me everything.

All right.

Yes.

He was the richest person I knew.

He had millions.

You'd told me often enough.

It's true that I went behind your back, and that was wrong of me, and I'm sorry.

But I knew what would happen if you found out.

You hated Alan.

You always hated him and you'd be furious!

I am furious!

To me it was just money.

A means to an end.

But you didn't get the money.

And you think that's why I pushed him off the tower?

It's a reason!

But it's not the reason!

There is no reason!

I didn't do it, what you're accusing me of.

Who told you I didn't get the money?

James Taylor.

His partner.

James doesn't know anything.

He wasn't there.

(voiceover): I drove up on the Saturday, the same day he died.

It was the first time I'd ever seen his house.

All I wanted to do was get in, get out, and go back to you.

ALAN (voiceover): It's been a while, Andreas.

You're looking well.

And you're looking great.

Amazing house.

Well... You're still teaching?

Yes.

A private school in London.

Oh, can I get you a drink?

No, thanks.

I have to drive down again tonight.

So, what brings you all the way to Suffolk?

Not old times' sake, surely?

Partly that.

I was wondering if you could help me.

A signed copy?

No, no.

No.

No.

Although I've read your books.

I like them.

I'm very lucky.

So do 18 million other people.

(chuckles) I remember you always talking about writing when we were at the school.

But you never mentioned murder mysteries.

Well, yes, that was Melissa's idea.

How is Melissa?

I haven't seen her.

You were about to say... (sighing): You want me to help you.

Uh....

I'm moving back to Crete.

A cousin of mine has found a hotel that he wants to buy with me.

It's a good prospect, close to Agios Nikolaos, which is a very popular tourist destination near Heraklion.

It has seven bedrooms.

Uh, a terrace with a restaurant.

A bar-- Excuse me.

Why are you telling me this?

I wondered if you might be interested in joining us as a partner.

I'm sorry.

I have no skill running a hotel.

No, I mean as a financial partner.

You mean money.

How much?

150,000 Euros.

That's around £130,000.

Yes, I know the exchange rate.

I think it would be a good investment.

The Greek economy is recovering and the tourist industry in Crete is huge.

Let me just stop you there, Andreas.

I'm afraid you're wasting your time.

It's nothing personal.

It's just I haven't seen you for ten years and I find it quite strange that you should invite yourself here and think I might have any interest in supporting a venture about which I know nothing in a place which I have never visited and never intend to.

It's not such a large sum of money.

To you or to me?

I just thought it might be something you'd consider.

Well, I'm afraid you were wrong.

Then I won't take up anymore of your time.

Thanks.

I-I'd be grateful if you didn't mention to Susan that I was here.

Susan...?

Ryeland?

You know her?

We've been together for a time.

I was hoping she could come with me.

ANDREAS (voiceover): That was when everything changed.

Suddenly he was nice.

"Nice"?

(soft chuckle) That's not a word I'd use to describe Alan Conway.

He was a different man.

You know that Susan is my editor.

Of course.

She does a terrific job.

And she doesn't know you're here?

She'd kill me if she did.

I'm sure.

But, you know, you really should have told me.

Because, you see, I've finished with Atticus Pünd.

She never told me that.

She doesn't know.

"Magpie Murders" is the last one.

And I've been wanting to find a way to thank her.

I'm not asking for a gift, Alan.

No, I know that.

But, as you say, being a financial partner in a hotel.

It would be a way for us to continue our relationship.

Are you sure you won't have a drink?

Well... maybe a small one.

(laughs) Well, let me show you around first.

Susan's never been here.

Oh.

I don't know why.

He rang his solicitor, Sajid Khan, there and then.

He said he wanted a simple contract.

150,000 Euros-- the entire amount.

He couldn't have been more pleasant.

CONWAY: The views up here are amazing.

On a clear day you can see Norfolk.

I come up here when I finish writing.

It's somewhere I can relax.

(cell phone chiming) Sorry.

Ah!

It's Sajid.

You can go in next week.

It'll all be ready.

He has the access to the funds.

Oh, that's amazing.

I-I don't know what to say.

I want to be your first guest.

And I'm not expecting a bill.

(laughing) (laughs) ♪ ♪ So you have the money?

His solicitor rang me after Alan died.

I held certain funds in escrow for Mr. Conway.

He was very insistent that this should be paid to you.

That was very thoughtful of him.

The debt will be considered an asset of the estate.

I'll make the arrangements for the repayments and, of course, interest.

Thank you.

So... you didn't kill him.

I embraced him!

Perhaps I was too emotional, but hey, I'm Greek.

I wanted to thank him and... and that's what you're seeing here.

What are you doing?

I'm sending it to myself.

They say a picture can speak a thousand words.

I'm sorry.

Are you?

You know he only gave you the money because it gave him control of me.

Maybe that's true.

But I'm not sure it matters anymore, does it?

Andreas, you lied to me.

You saw what I saw.

What else was I to think?

But you know me.

Well, we've been together for six years.

We're friends.

We're lovers.

You know me better than anyone in the world and you think I could have done this?

That I could kill someone by pushing them?

I was wrong.

(humorless chuckle) No... No.

I thought I was going to Crete with you and that we'd finally be happy together.

But I was wrong.

(deep inhale) I'm sorry.

♪ ♪ (click) ♪ ♪ Everything about Pye Hall is cursed.

You are no friend of Sir Magnus?

He took everything I ever loved.

PÜND: The last piece of the jigsaw.

You wish to know the answer?

SUSAN: Are you kidding?

That's all I want to know.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ANNOUNCER: Go to our website, listen to our podcast, watch video, and more.

To order this program, visit ShopPBS.

"Masterpiece" is available with PBS Passport and on Amazon Prime Video.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (slams brakes) Do you mind getting out?

Hm.

HOROTWITZ: I'd like to talk about the relationship between Susan Ryeland and Atticus Pünd.

Because when at the very start of the process I realized I was going to have to bring together the world of the 1950s and the modern world of Susan Ryeland and publishing, I saw that Atticus and Susan would be on the screen in alternate scenes and I began to wonder, would that be good enough?

Why was it that if they're just seconds apart from each other, shouldn't they be perhaps at some stages together?

And so I began to think of this idea of Atticus crossing over into Susan's world, which he does for the first time in episode one.

There's just a brief glimpse of him in London.

But then in episode two, suddenly he's in her bedroom at the foot of the bed, trying to tell her that actually Alan Conway has been murdered.

And the relationship develops as the series goes on.

Until towards the end, I think, they are really very close.

It's almost like a, sort of a love affair across two dimensions.

That was sort of in my head.

So why are you so angry now?

Let me give you some advice, Ms. Ryeland.

Yes, all right.

But can you please stop calling me Ms. Ryeland?

It's so bloody '50s.

I think it's interesting that Susan doesn't exactly have a sidekick, but she does have Atticus.

And I'm asking the viewer, really, to make up for their, their mind for themselves.

Is Atticus in her imagination?

Is he crossing the dimension?

Is he a dream or is it magic?

I mean, it's up to you to decide.

PÜND: I was only putting forward certain possibilities...

Yes, well, I don't want to hear them!

HOROWITZ: Pünd is very much Susan's mentor.

I mean, after all, he is a detective and she isn't.

But I think what also makes the relationship interesting is that he only exists in the book.

And anything that is not in the book must therefore be outside his experience.

A good example is that she quotes at one stage from a poem by one of my favorite poets, Stevie Smith.

The poem is "Not Waving but Drowning."

And, of course, because that poem was written after Atticus Pünd has died, after "Magpie Murders" has finished, he cannot even have heard of that poet and knows nothing about it.

And so it's quite interesting that his knowledge of everything only comes out of what is written in the book, which has huge ramifications for Susan when she discovers that her father was also one of the characters, and that her life has been dragged into it by Alan Conway.

She's in the book, my father...

They're both there, aren't they?

All of it!

Oh, my God!

We tried to make the two worlds as seamless as possible.

And working with Peter Cattaneo, the director, and with the script editors and with the producers, we tried to find ways that we would cross from one world to another without anybody really even noticing.

The magpies were very useful for that because a magpie could take off from Susan's garden in London and fly into the air and then land at the church in Saxby-on-Avon, having traveled back in time 60 years, and we would now be back in 1955.

But again, you know, we have characters who might walk up to the door of Pye Hall and ring the bell, but when it's open on the other side, it's actually Abbey Grange and it's again jumped forward or backwards in time.

I'll go down if you like.

Oh, thank you, James.

Visually, it is the, sort of, the joy of this series.

I'm not sure that anybody has ever done it before.

This murder mystery that plays in two completely separate universes which have a number of invisible bridges between them.

FRASER: You are maddening, Pünd.

If you know something, why can't you just spit it out?

To know something is not enough, James.

It's when I know everything that I will speak.

HOROWITZ: I was very aware of the fact that I couldn't have two massively complicated mysteries in this one show.

So in the book, for example, the death of Sir Magnus Pye has got many, many more suspects than actually appear in the TV series.

I had to really thin them down.

PÜND: You have made some progress?

No, no, leads.

HOROWITZ: In the 1950 stories, there are all sorts of different motives for wanting to kill Sir Magnus Pye, whether it's his sister who is jealous of him, or the villagers who want to stop Dingle Dell being developed, his wife who can't stand him and might be having an affair, all these sorts of things.

I was less interested, I think, in the nuts and bolts of the whodunit in the modern world.

I mean, that's part of the fun and the pleasure of Golden Age detective fiction, these sort of larger-than-life characters with their extraordinary motives and their emotions.

But in the modern world, which I wanted to be more realistic, so I had to invent a whole area of new material, particularly around Susan, to sort of give her more to play with.

So the story of the father doesn't actually appear in the book.

Katie does appear as a character in the book, but the relationship between the two of them and this sort of secret in their own past and the circumstances surrounding the death of their mother and all that was added on to the modern section of it.

So, in other words, to give it, if you like, an underlay, an extra depth.

So it wouldn't just be about who killed Alan Conway?

♪ ♪