I die at peace, knowing I am innocent of my husband's murder...
.. and that the Lord will wait for me on the other side.
I have only one request...
Tell Father Brown I forgive him.
We thought you might require some sustenance.
Most kind.
You mustn't let this get to you.
Katherine Corven's execution is a result of my actions.
Oh, poppycock! She's the one who killed her husband.
- That evil witch is getting what she deserves! - Penelope!
Oh, don't "Penelope" me! You know you feel exactly the same.
Well, it's true... The world will be a safer place without her.
If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone.
I would like to pray for her.
For all the good that'll do.
Hello, St Mary's Presbytery.
Yes, it is.
I see.
Thank you for telling me.
Goodbye.
They're letting her go.
Miss Hamsley!
A good, clean shot of Mrs Corven for the front page,
and a few quotes if possible.
Yes, Mr Gladwell.
Calm!
Thank you all for welcoming me back into civilisation.
I never abandoned hope that the truth would come out.
How did it come out, Mrs Corven?
Hearing of my imminent execution,
my husband's murderer finally decided to confess.
And do you have anything to say to those who locked you up
for a crime you didn't commit?
God saved me to do His good work.
Those that wronged me shall answer to Him.
This way, please.
Mrs Corven, one more thing!
It was the Corvens' cleaner, Vivienne Hubb.
Apparently Katherine's husband, Bertrand,
sacked Mrs Hubb over some petty grievance.
She was left destitute and murdered Mr Corven in revenge.
Why confess now?
Mrs Hubb is old and sick.
She didn't want to die with it on her conscience.
Or she went doolally.
We all know Katherine killed her husband.
Mrs Hubb gave a detailed description of the crime,
beyond anything in the public domain.
Perhaps Mrs Corven coerced her into taking responsibility.
From her prison cell?! More likely you made a mistake!
You can't just let that evil woman wander the streets unchecked!
What if she goes after Father Brown?
The-powers-that-be have deemed Katherine Corven
fit to re-enter society, at least until her appeal.
Anyway, I doubt she'll bother you if she's locked away in a convent.
Sorry, I thought you said "convent"!
Haven't you heard?
Our numbers have dwindled, but we march on.
We lead simple lives here.
It's exactly what I wish for.
Is this really what you want?
After all you've been through, why not take some time...
I've had plenty of time.
As a postulant, you would be expected to obey all our rules.
You'd have to leave the sins of the past behind.
I want to leave the past behind.
I've made so many mistakes, I've done such foolish things...
Ah, none of us are without blemish.
You ask if I'm certain?
Like Ruth, I know the answer.
"Be not against me, to desire that I should leave thee and depart,
"for whithersoever thou shalt go, I will go,
"and where thou shalt dwell, I also will dwell.
"Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God."
In that case... Welcome to Saint Augustine's!
Mr Slow.
No, thank you.
Thought you might need it.
Heard about that bad one being let out.
I've known Viv Hubb For donkey's years.
Fierce tongue, but a murderer? Don't be daft.
You want to watch your back now that Corven woman's out.
Hell hath no fury, and all that.
It's not MY back I'm worried about.
Knowing Katherine Corven, she will want to torment me.
All those I care about are possible targets.
You care about everyone, Father.
That's your problem.
And some may be in greater danger than others.
Oh, here you are, Father!
You're late for parish council.
Ah, I confess it completely slipped my mind.
Mr Slow. You're looking...
well.
And you are shimmering like
the sunshine on a duck pond, Mrs McCarthy.
Sorry, Father, there's someone here to see you.
Eddie Hamsley, Kembleford Gazette.
Hoping to get an interview about your role
in the miscarriage of justice involving Katherine Corven.
What?!
The only "miscarriage of justice" is that evil woman being released.
Evil? Katherine's the innocent victim of a flawed legal system.
Yet she shows no bitterness. She's quite extraordinary.
Extraordinary, indeed.
Mrs Corven has a particular talent
for manipulating how she is perceived by others.
Katherine was wronged, Father, by you especially.
It's my duty to tell the world how it happened.
Father Brown's already late for an appointment.
I'm starting to wonder what you have to hide, Father!
Mrs McCarthy, please make my apologies to the Parish Council.
I'm going to find out what Katherine is plotting
before she does any damage.
And how exactly will you manage that?!
Do you remember that wardress?
Frances Whittaker. She spent more time with Katherine
than anybody over the last year or so.
I'll start with her.
At least let me come with you.
About what happened when we went for a walk by the canal...
Mr Slow, I've told you, I would prefer if that was never,
ever mentioned again.
Now, if you'll excuse me.
Perhaps she's at work?
She resigned from the prison.
I can't see anything. Something's in front of the door.
We're too late.
Police surgeon reckons she's been dead since late last night.
The front door was barricaded from the inside.
Back door locked, key in situ.
Windows bolted. No other exit.
In short, she hanged herself.
Are you sure?
Then there's the empty bottle of Scotch
and the note in which she confesses her "overwhelming guilt"
at Katherine Corven's unjust incarceration.
And you said she left her job?
She fell in love with another warder. George something...
She left her husband
and resigned from the prison service to be with him.
I'm guessing the happy-ever-after didn't last long?
I believe George went back to his wife.
Nevertheless, to die so soon after Katherine Corven's release...
Please tell me you're not sullying Katherine's name again, Father?
No reporters! This is a closed crime scene!
Then what are they doing here?
Excellent point. All three of you, sling your hooks!
What'll it take to convince you that Katherine's innocent?
Not possible. We know her too well.
Out of interest, what convinced you?
Someone else confessed!
And I know how men like you love to subjugate strong-minded women.
You don't know anything about Father Brown!
Not yet, but I intend to.
Maybe you should know what it's like
to have your name dragged through the mud!
Well, she doesn't seem to like priests much.
So what now?
I stop postponing the inevitable.
- Katherine. - There's no need to apologise, Father. - Apologise?
Without my tribulations, I would never have found my true vocation.
You're not fooling anyone!
When did you last see your wardress, Frances Whittaker?
Ah, a few months ago. The day she left the prison.
Why? Have you been looking for her?
She died. Last night.
Oh, how terrible. Please offer my condolences to her family.
God is watching you, every moment.
I pray for it.
So, you have no knowledge of Frances's death?
I said, Katherine's been at the convent since her release.
Yes.
I know you bore her a grudge.
I was upset by her cruel treatment of me.
And her language was terribly coarse, but...
You murdered her, admit it!
I've heard enough of your baseless accusations. Please leave.
Not until she tells the truth!
We'll see ourselves out.
How is dear old Mrs McCarthy?
I do hope she's in good health.
Forgive me, I should...
It's all right. He made up his mind about me long ago.
There is something I must tell you about Father Brown.
Something I've never told anyone.
Frances Whittaker was found dead this morning.
Good morning. Frances Whittaker?
Used to be a wardress at Sonning Prison. Suicide.
I could spice it up by linking it to the Katherine Corven case.
A woman is dead.
That isn't something to be "spiced up".
I'll put together a short obituary.
Yes, Mr Gladwell.
What do you know about Father Brown?
That he's a better investigator than both of us put together. Why?
He's blaming Katherine Corven for Frances Whittaker's death
even though she couldn't possibly have been involved.
It's like he's pursuing some personal vendetta.
Hear me out.
Father Brown played an active part in Katherine's original conviction.
He even testified at her trial.
I recall. I was there. Look, Eddie...
You've only been here a few weeks
and you've already managed to upset the butcher on Dowlands Street,
the tuba player for the marching band and the whole of the WI.
That art competition was fixed!
We need proof of any wrongdoing,
particularly when it comes to the clergy.
Now, I'm sure you have real work to be doing.
How did your assignment in Hambleston go last night?
Nothing to report.
Shame. Well, you'd better get back to the grindstone.
Kembleford Gazette.
Mother Superior?
Even when Katherine gave her consent for me to contact you,
I was conflicted.
We value our privacy here
and I've heard great things about Father Brown.
But hearing him accuse Katherine of such horrors...
Katherine told me something that happened to her a while ago.
Before her husband died.
Go on.
You should hear it directly from her.
I warn you, it is most distressing.
Oh! Do not sneak up on a body like that, Father!
Apologies. I was thinking....
With Katherine Corven at large, perhaps it would be wise
if we all took... precautions.
Precautions?
I don't wish to alarm you, but she mentioned your name.
These hands have been kneading dough for more years than
I care to remember.
So, they are well able to cope with a young slip of a thing like that!
At least promise me you'll keep your eyes peeled.
I promise and I'm sure there's nothing to worry about.
And maybe, maybe she really has found God.
I wish I could believe it.
- St Mary's Presbytery. - Help!
Who is this?
Father!
Mrs McCarthy? Is that you?
Mrs McCarthy?!
The Inspector said he'd be here presently, Father.
I just got your message. Have you checked her house?
Not a sign of her.
Perhaps you should go back there, just in case.
If Katherine's touched one hair on Mrs M's head...
Let's not get ahead of ourselves.
I was at a dinner party for my mother-in-law's 70th.
Now, you're certain Katherine Corven has kidnapped Mrs McCarthy?
Or worse.
I know you think I'm over-reacting...
I want all officers out looking for her.
- If they've gone home, get them back here. - Yes, sir.
I know we don't always meet eye-to-eye, Padre,
but if Mrs McCarthy is in danger,
then we won't rest until we've found her.
Thank you. I know where to start.
I trust there's an impeccable reason for this intrusion?
Where's Mrs Corven?
Sleeping. Come back tomorrow.
It can't wait.
This is a place of sanctuary.
While that woman is under your roof, none of you are safe.
We both know you pose more of a threat than Katherine does!
- Him?! - Katherine's told me everything
and I will not have my postulants dragged from their beds.
A life is in danger!
Whatever's the fuss?
Where is Mrs McCarthy?
- How should I know? - See?!
Tell the truth!
Father, I don't have the foggiest idea what you're talking about.
Everybody satisfied? Good. Now leave.
Unless you wish to end up back in prison...
Inspector! >
We've found her!
Is she hurt?
Not a scratch, Father.
She was at a meeting for the Festival Committee.
It overran, apparently.
That lot never use one word if they can use a hundred!
What a relief!
Now that's cleared up, Father, I trust you'll apologise
to Katherine and then leave the premises immediately!
I feel responsible.
I should've stopped that pompous editor from droning on
about his ideas for next year's Festival.
Are you sure that the phone call couldn't have been a bad dream?
Well, you have been known to doze off at your desk.
It was very real.
It was Katherine's way of discrediting me, and I fell for it.
Sergeant Goodfellow?
Message from the Mother Superior, Father.
Stay away from Saint Augustine's.
You're no longer welcome.
Hardly surprising.
Just to say, I don't believe one word, Father.
Oh, not her again.
Father, I've come to offer you a chance
to tell your side of the story.
What story would that be?
The one on the front page of today's Gazette.
We haven't seen it.
Now leave Father Brown alone, or your only further contribution
to journalism will be a short paragraph in the obituaries column!
Please excuse Miss Windermere. We had a disturbed night.
I heard! Accusing Katherine of all sorts again.
Now everyone will know why, Father!
"Local priest accused of framing Katherine Corven
"after she rejected his amorous advances."
What possessed you to write such tripe?!
It isn't tripe.
Let me guess -- "no comment"?
Mrs M is worried you're not eating.
Thank you, but I'm not hungry.
She wants to go and see Mr Gladwell, the editor.
Demand he retracts the story.
The damage is done.
The only way to discredit Katherine is to prove
she was involved with Frances's murder.
Any clues?
Nothing.
I can't work out how someone could hang Frances
and then get out of this house.
Maybe it was a suicide?
Katherine was responsible.
And she will not rest until she has got her revenge.
Well, you've been here for hours. Maybe...
Inspector.
I should've known!
When I read that story about you in the Gazette,
I didn't believe a word.
Oh, you're a royal pain in the backside, yes.
But trying it on with that woman, and then framing her for murder?
- Not you. - Well, I appreciate your...
But then I got this niggling doubt.
How come Father Brown always finds some key piece of evidence
just at the right time?
Because he's a better detective than you?
OR because he puts it there himself!
I would never...
Why not?! You're so sure you've got God on your side.
You'd simply be making sure the bad guys got their just deserts.
And with Katherine Corven saying all these... horrible things...
.. I bet you'd be cock-a-hoop to see her back behind bars.
Her incarceration would give me no joy.
And what WOULD bring you joy?
Her execution?
Is that why you're here?
Planting evidence to ensure she has a date with the noose after all?
Of course not!
I'd understand, believe me!
Her lies must make you very angry.
I only wish her to find God's love and repent her sins.
I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, this once.
Now get out!
Or I'll throw you in a cell...
.. again.
I need to go to the prison.
Ask for permission to speak to other prisoners.
- You need to sleep. - Yes, but what if...
Maybe this is her plan?
That she sits back and does nothing
and you chase shadows and drive yourself mad?
Yes. Maybe you're right.
Listen, eat and sleep.
I'll come back in the morning and we'll tackle this with fresh minds.
Yes.
St Mary's...
Father?
Katherine, if this is another one of your tricks...
- Father, it's me. - Bunty?
Father, hang up. Don't listen...
Bunty!? What's happening?
Be quiet, Father. Don't interrupt.
Now, I'm sure you've seen the story in the newspaper.
I love the press, don't you?
Useful for all sorts of dirty little jobs.
Anyway, you're going to tell the congregation that the story's true.
You threw yourself at me in a moment of wild passion
and, when I refused to succumb, you framed me for murder.
Then, your reputation in tatters,
you'll announce to your congregation and the bishop
that you're leaving the priesthood.
Katherine, wait...
If not, your precious Bunty will die.
Shame -- such a pretty thing.
You have 12 hours.
Which is more important to you, your vocation or your friend's life?
What's in it for me?
We're appealing to your better nature.
I'm 'appy you think I 'ave one.
You know Viv Hubb,
the woman who confessed to the murder of Katherine's husband?
She's locked up. Word is she's refusing all visitors.
I need you to talk to her family, neighbours,
anyone who saw her in the few days before Katherine's release.
Find out how Katherine persuaded her to take the blame.
I can try, I suppose.
Thank you, Harold.
I'll go to Saint Augustine's,
- I'm afraid you are persona non grata there. - Yes.
So what'll you be doin', Father, while I'm labourin' on your behalf?
Looking for Bunty.
Katherine must have taken her
somewhere where she wouldn't be seen.
a remote farm, abandoned building, that sort of thing.
In Kembleford? Needle in a haystack.
Yes. But I must try.
Our friend is missing.
If there is even a chance that Katherine was involved...
There isn't. She was here the whole time.
She telephoned Father Brown and...
The only telephone is here in my office, which is kept locked.
When did this alleged conversation take place?
At seven o'clock this morning.
Katherine was at morning prayers. She was by my side the whole time.
- But... - Father Brown is either mistaken or lying.
Either way, my patience has run out and I will be contacting the Bishop.
And tell Father Brown to seek forgiveness for his own sins
and stop accusing others!
Bad news, Father.
Katherine has an alibi for the time of your telephone conversation.
Then somebody is lying for her.
It was the Mother Superior herself.
Ah.
Any luck here?
Not yet.
I've been to the old Corven house
and the cottage of Katherine's former lover, Raymond Worrall.
Nothing. But I have been thinking...
What if Katherine has an accomplice?
Someone doing everything on the outside,
while she sits in the convent pulling the strings?
- Yes, but who? - That I don't know.
Don't suppose the kettle's on?
Please tell us you have found something useful.
The next-door neighbour reckons Viv had a visit from a young lass
a few days before she confessed.
Katherine was still in prison.
Not the bad 'un. I showed them her picture from the paper and they reckoned it was someone else.
That reporter!
She arrived at Frances Whittaker's house
before anyone knew what had happened.
So you think she might be the accomplice?
- If it helps, I know where to find her. - Oh.
Looking for something?
A photograph of Father Brown for my next article.
Our readers want to know all about his wicked ways.
Speaking of wickedness,
how did you know so quickly about Frances Whittaker's death?
Accusing me now?
For your information, I live on the same street.
I was returning from an all-night assignment
and saw the police cars outside.
So you thought you'd come and have a nosey around?
I'm a reporter. It's what I do.
Say "Cheese"!
Follow her, please, Mr Slow, and find out where she goes.
There's a bottle of scotch and a hot meal in it.
You had me at the Holy Spirit, Father.
An hour to go.
- Perhaps Blind 'Arry has been waylaid somewhere. - Oh.
I should get ready for Mass.
Please tell me you're not going to do what that evil woman asked.
How do you know she won't kill Penelope anyhow?
I don't.
At last!
Harold, is that you?!
Oh!
- Happy?! Katherine has left the convent. - When?
Just now. Said she couldn't find peace there.
She feared the other sisters believed your lies about her!
Where did she go?
She mentioned visiting an old friend.
You think she'll attend Mass?
Or she's waiting with Bunty to carry out her threat.
What threat?!
Either way, what choice do I have?
Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?
I fear not.
Mr Gladwell, have you converted to Catholicism since your divorce?
We had a tip-off this particular Mass was not to be missed.
You should be ashamed of yourselves, printing that filth.
We'd assumed you were dead in some ditch!
Or possibly just dead drunk.
Did what you asked. Followed that reporter
back to one of the old paper houses.
She didn't budge all afternoon till she came 'ere.
Paper houses? So you have been drinking!
A sip, maybe.
I was talking about that row of little old houses on Mabel Drive.
That's what we always called 'em. Paper houses.
Cos they was built by the newspaper company.
Frances lived in Mabel Drive.
The reporter already told us she lives on the same street.
This just confirms her story.
Well, this might be my last Mass.
I probably shouldn't be late.
Today, I must depart from my prepared homily
to talk about a personal matter.
Many of you will have seen the most recent Gazette.
I'm not sure how to say this...
Oh.
It seems we have a feathered visitor.
Many say a jackdaw in the eaves is an omen of death.
Excuse me.
- Hold the fort. - But where are you...?
Looking for divine inspiration, Father?
Ah! Harold.
Take these, and find a ladder, please.
Perfect escape route.
Bad news.
My little bird just told me Father Brown failed in his task.
Let's get ready to have some fun, shall we?
Miss Hamsley? Are you down there?
God?
No.
Just one of his humble servants.
Are you going to explain what you were doing in my attic?
Discovering how Frances's murderer got out of her house
with the front door barricaded from the inside.
I wasn't even here that night!
I remember. On an all-night assignment.
Given to you by your editor, Robin Gladwell, I presume?
He had me staking out some warehouse in Hambleston.
Total waste of time.
Not for him.
He used the opportunity
to gain access to Frances's house through your attic.
Then he murdered her.
As you rent your house from the newspaper company,
it would have been easy for him to get hold of a key.
But, Mr Gladwell?!
He didn't even know the woman!
Didn't he?
I never met his wife.
At least, I thought I hadn't.
It appears Whittaker was her maiden name.
She reverted to it after she left him.
But why kill her?
Because she left him for another man.
And because Katherine Corven persuaded him to.
Not this Katherine rubbish again!
He was there at the original trial.
Every day.
At first, I thought it was just professional interest,
but now I think he'd fallen for her.
A fact she used to manipulate him.
She convinced him that he could get revenge on his ex-wife
without ever being caught.
You're only saying this
because Katherine has ruined your reputation.
Right now, I couldn't care less about my reputation.
All I want to do is save my friend. Help me. Please.
Just give me one hour to prove that Katherine is behind all this.
One hour, or I print a story about you sneaking into my attic
so you could watch me getting changed!
I assure you, I never saw a thing.
- Print... - What? - That's it.
I think I know where she's taken Bunty.
This building used to house the printing press.
Katherine said it herself --
"the press -- useful for all sorts of dirty little jobs".
I think it was a clue and I think she wants to be found.
- So it's a trap? - Probably.
Well, if that's the case, perhaps someone should inform the Inspector?
This one's on the house!
What are we waiting for then?
Erm, perhaps you should stay here, Mrs McCarthy. Keep guard.
Might be dangerous.
Sometimes you speak complete codswallop!
Anybody there?
Penelope?
Father Brown!
Just in time.
Let Bunty go.
Why would I do that?
Because the police are coming.
The police?
For little old me?
I know you recruited Mr Gladwell, the newspaper editor,
to kill Frances Whittaker.
It's possible he did it to please me.
My Robin is such a devoted bird.
My guess is you both came here
the day you were released from prison
and used the newspaper's recording apparatus so that later,
Mr Gladwell could kidnap Bunty and deliver your ultimatum to me
whilst you were surrounded by witnesses at the convent.
Oh, all right, then. I admit it.
Congratulations, Father!
I knew you wouldn't disappoint me.
You have 12 hours.
Which is more important to you, your vocation or your friend's life?
By the way, did you like my impression of Mrs McCarthy?
My Robin kept Mrs McCarthy occupied,
while I sowed the seed of panic in your mind.
St Mary's Presbytery.
Help!
Who is this?
Father!
Mrs McCarthy? Is that you?
Mrs McCarthy?!
You speak as though all this were just a game.
Haven't you worked it out yet?
It is a game!
Or perhaps we should call it a test.
Just how good are you?
Open that box on the floor.
I'm holding one just like it.
You have 30 seconds to find me and kill me,
or I'm going to shoot Bunty in the head.
- Don't do this. - And... go!
30 seconds starts now.
I don't understand.
Why would she give you the chance to kill her?
To destroy me.
If I kill Katherine, it's a mortal sin.
If I let Bunty die, I will live with that on my conscience forever.
Couldn't have put it better myself!
To kill or not to kill, that is the question.
You've already sent me to the scaffold once.
But are you prepared to pull the trigger yourself?
20 seconds.
Right, let's find her.
They're in here!
Ten... nine...
- Do something! - Eight... - I can't take a life.
Even to save one?
Seven... No closer.
It's me you want to hurt.
Actually, I'd quite happily hurt both of you. Six...
- Please, Father! - Five... Such a hypocrite!
You were quite happy for the hangman do it for you.
- Four... - Just shoot her.
- Three... - Don't do this.
- Two... Stop me. - Father!
- Please, Father! - One...
That's not...
I'll do it!
What have you done?!
Penelope!
So, this was your plan?
To goad me into shooting my own friend.
Father Brown, the murderer.
Can't blame a girl for trying.
Let me die.
I have no intention of going back to jail.
Then tell me one thing.
How did you get Vivienne Hubb to confess to killing your husband?
One of the less-civilised girls at the cell-block was due for release.
I got her to deliver a letter to Mrs Hubb
offering a small fortune for her family if she confessed.
If she refused, my friend was going to pay a visit to her grandchildren.
The old bat was dying. She had nothing to lose.
I said, let me die.
Not until you have sought God's forgiveness.
Dear Father Brown.
Still trying to save me.
Without people like me,
what's the point of you?
Katherine! Katherine!
Get away from her!
Look what they've done to you.
What do you mean, what we've done?! I think you'll find...
Be quiet!
Fear not, my love.
I'll get your revenge.
Not today you won't.
Father, help me persuade her to go to the hospital.
Mrs McCarthy's right.
Who knows what she used to knock you out?
Don't fuss! It's nothing a double gin and tonic won't fix.
Thanks for not shooting me, by the way, Father.
I think it's fair to say that Father Brown passed the test.
I'm sorry if I put you in any danger.
You know perfectly well, I wouldn't have had it any other way.
The Whittaker family are gathering at The Red Lion.
Yes.
Erm, I asked Harold to come with us, to say thank you for his assistance.
Mrs McCarthy!
Hope you don't mind me tagging along?
Mind? Why ever would I mind?
A free drink and the company of a beautiful woman?
I should do God's work more often!
- Whatever happened between you two...? - Penelope! - I'm sorry.
What's wrong, Father?
Without your help, Frances Whittaker would have been declared a suicide.
She wouldn't have had a proper Catholic burial.
And as for Katherine... well, you won!
- Won? - You foiled her plan.
Katherine wanted to destroy my soul and I wanted to save hers.
We both lost.
There isn't a priest alive that could've saved that woman's soul.
And I, for one, think you're a hero.
Come on.