Crooked House Page #2

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people's secrets?

That's the idea.

Is that your tree house

out there?

Mine and Eustace's.

He's my older brother.

I like your notebook.

What do you write in it?

The things that I know.

I know lots of things.

And now that my grandpa's dead,

I am by far the cleverest person

in this house.

Anything you'd like to tell me?

Not yet.

You see,

I read detective stories.

And a good detective

will take the time

to gather evidence

and question everyone

before solving a case.

Because the murderer

is never the one

you initially suspect.

Magda is ready for you now.

Magda?

She doesn't like me

calling her "mommy."

She says it ages her.

There's no place like home.

Oh, these shoes are all wrong.

Much too frivolous

for the occasion.

I apologize,

Mr. Hayward.

No.

Oh, god.

I drank far too much claret

last night.

Gives me headaches.

Burgundy suits me

so much better.

Well, perhaps you should take

an aspirin.

Aspirin?

Pah! Hmpf!

Hair of the dog, darling.

Yeah.

Cure evil with evil.

And what about you?

It's a little early

for me, I think.

You're cute.

Wait till you have

three children.

So...

You're an actress?

Clearly, you've never

set foot in a theater,

otherwise you'd know my work.

I must admit

I'm more of a cinema enthusiast.

I see.

I never cared much

for the movies myself.

Although,

I do have a superb script.

My husband wrote it for me.

Exposure.

His first work of fiction.

Full of passion.

The lead character, moi,

is a wonderfully dark part.

I know they say I should always

play comedy because of my nose.

Well, I suppose this murder

would give us a lot

of advance publicity and...

Do go on.

Is any of this

really of any importance?

I mean, after all,

we have our very own Ruth Ellis

right under this roof.

Ruth Ellis shot her lover,

not her husband.

Well, either way,

she was hanged for it.

And rightly so.

But are you saying

you'd like to see

Brenda Leonides hanged?

You are twisting my words.

Yes, well... perhaps I should

have a word with your husband?

He's in the library.

Thank you so much for your time.

Is that all?

For today, yes.

Good. I'm starving.

Hm.

I hope I'm not interrupting.

Charles, let me introduce you

to my father,

Philip Leonides.

It is a pleasure

to meet you, sir.

Charles Hayward.

I knew a Hayward once.

Assistant Commissioner

of Scotland yard.

Something of a legend

in the force.

- My father.

- Hmm.

Did rather well for himself.

Until he was murdered.

And they never found out

who did it?

No.

Not much of a recommendation.

Father.

Mr. Leonides...

As disagreeable as you may find

my visit to be,

I can guarantee that

it will pale in comparison

to what's in store for you

should the police decide

to come around again.

Can you make an effort now,

please?

For me?

Seems my lovely Sophia is upset.

We must reach some sort

of accommodation, Mr. Hayward.

Are you suggesting

that we let the roll of a die

decide for us?

It will determine whether or not

we continue this conversation.

Pick a number.

Will you two please stop it?

Mr. Leonides, please--

I'll assign you four.

Of course,

the odds are against you.

And I'm not going to answer

your questions anyway.

Ah, well, that would be

very bad form, sir.

Do you think

some illegal pressure

from some little man

at Scotland yard

is going to make me talk to you?

I do. Yes.

Because that little man and I

are trying to do you

a favor, sir.

Ah, the little notebook.

Of course.

Jot away.

You are the eldest son.

I am.

And how long

have you lived here?

Ten years ago

I lost a poker game

to the wrong people.

My father used it

as an opportunity

to keep me on a leash.

That's what drove us here.

Along with one or two bombs.

My father is referring

to some of my mother's plays,

which were less than successful.

- Ah, yes.

- So you wrote her a screenplay.

I am an historian.

I write on medieval art

and literature.

This screenplay of my wife's

was...

Is a one-off.

Mm-hm.

She and I live for the arts.

So you play no part

in your father's

business operations?

Uncle Roger runs

associated catering,

my grandfather's

flagship company.

Yes, my little brother

is the man,

despite having the

business sense of a mongoose.

But you are not

in actual need of... Money?

No one in this house

is in actual need of money.

Why on earth

would you stay here?

Because that was the deal.

Besides,

who actually wants to work

for a living, Mr. Hayward?

Has the will been read?

Not yet. Why?

I'd have expected it by now,

that's all.

Everyone knows what's in it.

I mean, we're all

very well provided for.

So no little clues

for you there, Mr. Hayward.

Thank you, Mr. Leonides.

Yes, one last thing.

If you must.

You don't seem at all sad, sir.

I beg your pardon?

Your father is dead.

But you don't seem

remotely sad about it.

Goodbye, Mr. Hayward.

A little man, Mr. Hayward,

who cast a large shadow.

A very large

and rather crooked shadow.

Hm.

What are you doing?

Can't I play detective too?

You smell of cigar,

which means you've met Philip.

But you don't smell of alcohol.

Is Magda still asleep?

No. I met her.

So you actually declined

the drink she offered you.

Good boy.

Keeping a clear head.

Eyes on the prize.

No wonder Sophia likes you.

Lady Edith,

when might be a good time

for us to talk?

Oh, I'm busy.

Autumnal pruning.

Ah.

I'm a firm believer

in the benefits of deadheading.

In all seasons.

Clemency Leonides.

Do feel free to come and go

as you please.

I'm sorry, the door was open.

You're the private detective

Sophia hired, I suppose?

Charles Hayward.

Continuing our theme

of openness,

perhaps you should be aware

that I am a senior

research chemist at la Roche.

And...?

And my specialty

is plant toxicology,

Mr. Hayward.

I know all there is to know

about poisons.

I don't suppose you ever bring

your work home with you, now?

Roger!

Sophia's detective is here.

So tell me, how does it work?

All of you living

in this house together?

Who told you it works?

Mr. Hayward.

Aunt Edith tells me

you know Sophia.

Yes, we knew each other briefly

in Cairo.

No, no, that's good.

We think that's good, don't we,

Clemmy? Anything to help

lock this slut away.

Darling.

I cannot believe she couldn't

wait. He was 86, for god's sake,

and she murdered him

in cold blood.

Roger, be quiet.

Yes, your wife is right, sir.

If you're not careful,

you may find yourself

facing an accusation of slander.

How can you defame a murderess?

She made me an orphan.

You are 55 years old, my love.

These things happen.

You're right.

I'm sorry.

No. No.

Please go on.

You are the managing director

of associated catering.

Your father's company.

One of his companies.

He gave it to me,

but you're quite right,

it is his.

Everything is, really.

In my father's house

there are many mansions.

And the last time

you spoke to him?

We spoke all the time.

Why do you ask that?

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