"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, uh...
- Lee Jaffrey. - Yes. Of course. Go on.
Uh, I liked it.
I thought it was interesting and, uh...
just really interesting.
Mm.
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?
Are you seriously asking me that question?
You're not writing anymore Atticus Pund then...
Atticus Pund!
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.
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.
Did you sleep OK?
Uh, no. Not really. Coffee.
Thanks.
You're leaving already?
Mm. I 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 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.
I must be on my way.
You're not staying for breakfast?
Uh. No, I'm OK.
Are you going to the hospital?
Later this morning. Yeah.
Hi.
That was quick.
You've caught me on my way to London.
Come in.
So what did 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.
- That 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 OK, 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 looked 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...
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.
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. I 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...
- Yeah, go on. - ...something.
Did you ever meet this man?
I can't say I recognize him. No.
He never came here?
I 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?
What is it?
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.
So if Alan wasn't going to 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.
Andreas was there.
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.
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.
Only 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.
That doesn't mean they go and blow up the bank.
All right.
Why would he kill him?
Why does anyone kill anyone?
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, an- - ...anger, desire.
I mean, Andreas just wouldn't kill anyone.
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...
Mm-mm. Do you mind getting out?!
Eh.
You want me to leave?
I was only putting forward certain possibilities.
Yes! Well, I don't want to hear them!
Yes?
Don't you remember me? We met.
Yeah.
Can we have another word?
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?
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.
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.
But 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-then, even when I did try 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.
Miss Ryeland.
Can I ask what you're doing here?
Herr Pund!
Alan put him in the book without so...
...much as a "by your leave" - and I never heard the end of it.
Alan was-was never grateful.
He was never...
kind.
And I'm glad he's dead.
I really am.
There you are, Pund! 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.
Oh, yeah.
Speak of the devil. On you go.
Sir.
Glad you can make it, Pund.
I've been following up on that silver brooch of yours.
You have found something, Detective Inspector?
Indeed, I have.
Amazing what turns up in a quiet village like this. Come, follow me.
Now, I already told Mr. Pund here...
- Pund. - I bought the brooch in good faith.
A local market. And now it's gone.
- How much did you sell it for? - I don't remember. Gemma?
- Three quid. - 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.
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. Pund 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.
Restarted what again?
- Hm? Receiving stolen goods? - Our lives.
We didn't know it was stolen.
Because you didn't ask.
Where is it?
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.
You people will never leave us alone, will you?
Whatever happened to a second chance?
Who sold it to you?
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.
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.
It 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 the collection of Roman antiquities
belonging to your employer.
The thieves must have dropped part of the haul
as they made their getaway.
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 were only two pieces.
Are you sure of that?
- You're not holding anything back? - There was nothing else.
Well, you should nonetheless have given what you found to the police.
Particularly in the light of the sudden death of your employer.
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?
Ah 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.
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.
Wh-what are you expecting to find, Mr. Pund? Another dead body?
I hope not.
I also require access to the Lodge House.
We should have visited it before.
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.
It's an empty house. What do you expect to find?
The dead always leave something behind.
Memories.
No, James. More than that.
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.
We're getting married at the church in July.
- No. - I'm sorry?
You are not going to marry my son.
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.
Now, I'm warning you, Robert.
This marriage will not go ahead.
Come on, Bella!
Mummy!
This house.
Please help me! Mummy!
You feel it too?
Ha, ha. I got...
A child's room.
Nah, nah, nah, nah...
But which child?
Give it, Sam. Give it to me, Sam. It's mine!
What'd you think?
Mary Blakiston's sewing room.
A room with a view.
Bella. Come here, girl.
Oh, see here, James. Hm?
- Bella. - This was the dog belonging to the two children.
What's the collar doing here?
That is indeed the question.
Now, this is interesting.
I have to say, I need this.
That house gave me the creeps.
The Lodge House. Yes.
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.
This is a record of almost everyone who inhabits Saxby-on-Avon. Hm.
I know.
Ah.
You see here, James?
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
Hm.
Yes.
I'm afraid this was very much part of her character.
She had a strong interest in the local community.
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 gain 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.
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're well aware that she had an argument
very publicly with her son only the day before?
It was unfortunate timing.
People often say things they regret, Mr. Pund,
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 fete
and her flower arrangements
were a good reason to come to Sunday service.
So although we are here today to mourn her departure,
we must also remember what she left behind.
No!
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?
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 Darford?
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?
Are you insinuating something, Mr. Pund?
I am sorry to have to tell you but Mary Blakiston
made certain allegations about you, Lady Pye.
Uh, she kept a diary.
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.
- You alright 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?
Because they were not burglars.
Wait a minute, Pund. 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.
They 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.
You are maddening.
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.
Hm.
This is Andreas. I'm not here at the moment.
Please leave a message after the beep. Thank you
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 you... - 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.
Oh.
So what's wrong?
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?
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...
Stop! Stop!
Slow down. Listen.
Polydorus, the hotel, is an opportunity for me to change my life.
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 a hundred and fifty thousand 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.
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... - Oh, God!
Just Stop! Forget-forget about that. It doesn't matter.
Tell me about Alan.
You mean why I killed him?
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.
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.
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.
1So do eighteen million other people.
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...
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?
A hundred and fifty thousand Euros.
That's around a hundred and thirty thousand pounds.
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 that 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.
That was when everything changed.
Suddenly he was nice.
"Nice"?
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 Pund.
- 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.
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.
A hundred and fifty thousand Euros-the entire amount.
He couldn't have been more pleasant.
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.
Shit. 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.
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 will 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.
No.
No. I thought I was going to Crete with you and that
we'd finally be happy together.
But I was wrong.
I'm sorry.