Agatha Christie's Miss Marple
A Pocketful of Rye Part Two
Ah, Miss Dove.
Oh, my God.
Your taxi, Miss Marple.
Now, remember to lock up, Daisy,
and don't forget the pantry window.
- Good night, ma'am. - Thank you. Baydon Heath.
Directly, ma'am.
- Excuse me, sir. - What is it, Hay?
The gate, sir. Swarming with press.
Shake the trees, photographers'll be dropping like ripe plums.
Tell the local station I want some extra men fast.
- What did the doc say, sir? - Another poisoning.
Cyanide, this time, in the tea. Instantaneous.
Ah, Miss Dove. Good. Thank you.
- Are you all right? - Yes.
It was you that found her, wasn't it?
Yes.
Do sit down.
I want you to tell me what happened.
- Out you go. - I was only trying to do me job!
Come on. Out you go.
- Officer! - Officer!
Gentlemen! And lady.
If you do not respect the integrity of this property,
we shall make arrests. Final warning.
I can only repeat,
there is no evidence to confirm
Mrs. Fortescue's death is connected with that of her husband.
I'll keep you in touch with all developments.
Now, gentlemen, please.
- Relative of the family, is it, madam? - Not exactly, no.
- It's the maid Gladys I'm connected with. - Only relatives are allowed, madam.
But it's very important. Her name is Gladys.
I... Well, I understand from the papers that Inspector Neele is in charge of the case.
- Could you get a message to him? - Yes, madam.
Will you tell... Now, this is very important.
No, I'll tell you what. No, I'll write... I'll write him a note.
Yes, madam.
Yes?
- Yes? - Sorry, sir.
Someone just arrived at the gate. A Miss Marple. Going on about the maid Gladys, sir.
- Legenda não traduzida -
- So? - Says she wants to be let in, sir.
- For God's sake. - Fair enough.
But I was to give you this, sir. The old lady was most insistent.
So, you ordered tea for 4.30 and then you went upstairs.
- What time did you come downstairs again? - Teatime.
When I got onto the landing,
something in the garden caught my attention.
Yew Tree Lodge.
Yes. Yes, it is.
Oh, no.
Yes.
You're no bloody use in any other way, believe me!
Stupid, stupid woman!
- Who was it, Gladys? - Wrong number, Miss Dove.
Is tea ready? Mr. Lance will be here any minute.
Yes, Miss Dove.
As I was spared any further matrimonial
warfare between Percival and poor Jennifer,
I went back to sort out the guest room
before coming down to clear the table for tea.
Gladys still hadn't arrived. Adele was getting impatient.
Where is everyone this afternoon? Where's Jennifer?
I think she's...
She and Mr. Percival had a disagreement.
What a surprise!
Rex has left her 40 grand. Did you know? I expect you do.
Anyway, Percy is registering his displeasure.
A wife with independent means. (TUTS)
Anyway, go and fetch her, there's a duck, Miss Dove, will you?
I've got to teach her to stand up to that husband of hers.
Mind you, how do you stand up to a glass of cold water?
Mrs. Fortescue is expecting you, Mrs. Percival.
Thank you, Miss Dove.
Oh, Gladys!
Why Gladys had abandoned the tea tray, I can't imagine.
No doubt I'll be treated to a string of excuses later on.
Hello! Don't tell me, you must be the excellent Miss Dove.
Yes, I am the excellent Miss Dove.
You must be Mr. Fortescue. Do you have any more luggage?
- Just this. Here. - Really, there's no need.
This was heading for the drawing room, I believe.
Mrs. Fortescue and Mrs. Fortescue,
what a pleasure. I come bearing gifts.
The foie gras sandwiches are spectacularly absent,
but we have bread, honey, fondants and fancies.
We'll manage, I dare say.
Oh, Lance, it is good to see you.
You must be my beautiful stepmother, Adele.
And after tea, Fortescue left the room first?
Yes. Lance left first.
I gather he went up to see Miss Henderson, his aunt.
I heard Mrs. Percival leave almost immediately.
- So Mrs. Fortescue was left alone? - Presumably.
And the man in the garden?
I assume that must've been Lance Fortescue.
No, couldn't have been.
His train was late. Didn't arrive until 4.34.
It's five minutes by taxi at least from the station.
Tell me, the person you heard moving about upstairs...
I'm almost certain it was Adele's room.
Quite honestly, it sounded like a man.
Oh, dear. Oh, dear.
Well, my only poor consolation, and it is a very poor one,
I'm almost certainly too late anyway.
- So you'll be leaving now, ma'am, will you? - Oh, no, no, no. Certainly not.
Come in.
Hello, Percival.
Still swotting?
I wish I had something to take my mind off this horrible business.
- Are they ever gonna serve supper? - Oh, I expect so.
Pat has insisted on coming down tonight. Is that all right?
I hope you don't mind. It's your house now, isn't it?
- Of course your wife's welcome. - Thanks.
There. We're being civil to each other, at least.
Yes, we are.
What'd the old pussy outside the gates want?
Oh, God knows.
"Sing a song of sixpence."
What's that supposed to mean?
I think the old girl's got an attic to rent, frankly.
Ah!
Mrs. Adele Fortescue. Love letters.
Scented or steamy?
"Always in my thoughts, Vivian."
Dubois. So that's what he was after.
Dubois. A man in the garden.
What a gold-rush.
- Where's the Mrs.? - She's remembered the washing.
Oh! Oh, sirs! She's dead!
- Strangled out the back! - Who are you talking about?
Gladys! Our Gladys!
On her nose, she's got a clothes-peg.
Mrs. Crump, what are you saying?
They put a... clothes-peg on her.
Lance.
It's all right. Come on.
Hay, have you got the note from the old lady?
"The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes."
"Along came a blackbird and pecked off her nose."
"The murderer rising in the light killeth the poor and needy."
"And in the night is as a thief."
"Where a testament is..."
"There must also of necessity be the death of the testator."
Yes. Poor Gladys.
I trained her, you know.
- Want us to book you into a hotel, madam? - Nonsense. She'll be staying here.
That's most kind of you.
- There you are, Miss Marple. - Oh, thank you very much.
Gladys came to me from the orphanage.
She was very keen on men, poor girl.
But I'm afraid men didn't take much notice of her and the other girls rather made use of her.
She enjoyed going to the cinema and she was always dreaming.
Things that couldn't possibly happen to her.
The poor girl had obviously seen something or noticed something.
I feel to blame.
It makes me very, very angry.
Especially that business of the clothes-peg.
What a cruel and contemptuous gesture.
You understood the significance of the nursery rhyme, Inspector, did you?
In its broad outline, eventually.
Rex, meaning king, in his counting house.
By extension, of course, his wife becomes the queen.
- "The queen was in the parlour." - Was she eating bread and honey?
I don't know.
The poor maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes.
The first verse is the difficulty. We have the pocketful of rye
but I don't understand the blackbirds. I can see no point in them.
However, they must mean something, don't you think?
"The birds began to sing."
Honey, Miss Marple? At teatime?
Come to think of it, no.
There's usually some savoury sandwiches, occasionally bread and jam, then some cake.
And biscuits only when Mrs. Crump has been baking.
No. I think it's the only time we'd had honey.
That's very interesting. Thank you, Miss Dove.
- I've cleared Adele's desk, sir. - Who benefits? That is the question.
From killing Gladys, nobody, as far as I can see.
Rex?
Well, Adele was going to get £100,000 from his will, but...
...who else?
Percival gets most of the estate.
Things were going wrong with the business
and it looks as if the old man was responsible.
Yep. Percival benefits. And his missus.
Yeah.
Not too keen on her husband,
stands to get £40,000 in her own right.
That would buy her freedom from old Perce.
Lance Fortescue gets 20 per cent of the residue,
which may not be all that much when all's said and done.
Besides, he was out of the country when the first murder took place.
Dubois?
Certainly. If he knew Adele was gonna get £100,000.
She's not exactly discreet, he must have known.
He benefits from killing Rex.
But where's the benefit in killing the lovely Adele?
Did she leave a will? Did you find anything?
No, sir.
It's at Ansell and Worral's, just off the high street.
Adele didn't trust the family solicitor. I don't blame her.
Bloody Billingsby's in Percy's pocket.
Do you happen to know what was in Mrs. Fortescue's will, madam?
Well, if I were you, I'd try the Dormy House Hotel
or the golf club.
Listen, does anybody fancy a nightcap?
Oh, all right. Be boring, then.
# The king was in his counting house
# Counting out his money
# The queen was in the parlour
# Eating bread and honey
# The maid was in the garden... #
I suppose it had been going on for, oh, over a year, anyway.
Then... last summer,
someone scooped out the inside of one of Mrs. Crump's raised pies
and stuffed it with dead birds.
And they were blackbirds, too, were they?
I suppose so. It was quite revolting.
Nobody was particularly concerned to establish the species.
"Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?" Yes.
Oh, good morning, Mr. Fortescue.
- Dormy House Hotel? - Hole in one.
You left the hotel about 3.30 and you returned about 5?
Yes.
And your route took you nowhere near Yew Tree Lodge?
As I told you, I went across the heath,
round by the sandpits and back through Curzon Woods.
As you told us.
- And you take this walk for your pleasure? - Yes. I wanted to think.
About Mrs. Fortescue.
What was your relationship with Mrs. Fortescue?
- We were friends. - Friends?
She led me to believe that she was quite fond of me.
I liked her, but she was married.
- You didn't see much future for the affair. - No, quite frankly, I didn't.
So it was an affair we're talking about.
Tell me, Mr. Dubois,
what did you mean when you wrote,
"When things are different,"
"all this will seem very small and far away"?
- Where the hell did you get that? - What things would be different?
You wrote this two weeks ago.
Presumably you can remember.
Quite frankly, it suggests to me a future without Mr. Fortescue.
And that means one of two things.
Either Mrs. Fortescue will leave her husband,
or her husband will somehow depart from the scene.
Wouldn't you agree?
You can't build up a case against me, Inspector.
She made a will, you know.
Left you all her money, everything she possessed.
I don't want the money. I didn't want a penny of it.
Of course, it isn't very much. Jewellery, a few furs.
I imagine very little cash at all.
But I thought her husband...
Did you, Mr. Dubois? That's very interesting.
I wondered if you knew the terms of Rex Fortescue's will.
- Oh! Oh, Inspector. - Yes, Miss Marple.
Blackbirds.
- Yes, ma'am. - You are interested in blackbirds, I take it?
Well, I'm more interested in Mr. Dubois at present.
Oh, dear me, no. Forgive me, Inspector,
but you must get to the bottom of this blackbird business.
Rex Fortescue was the victim of a series of disgusting practical jokes.
Someone put dead blackbirds, some of them quite decayed,
on his desk or on his pillow, where they could.
So the blackbirds must mean something.
Do you know they even put some in a pie?
I'll make some inquiries, ma'am.
Oh, yes. That is a relief. Thank you, Inspector.
Oh, Inspector!
I wonder if you would allow me to have a brief look at Gladys's room?
- How could I say no? - Oh, thank you. Yes.
And I know that you'll find the blackbirds very well worth your while. Yes.
I'm beginning to wonder who's in charge of this case.
I'll take the family, you take the staff.
I wonder,
can you tell me anything about blackbirds, Mrs. Fortescue?
Blackbirds?
Blackbirds, Inspector? What kind of blackbirds?
Just blackbirds, Mrs. Fortescue, dead, alive, or indifferent.
I've been told they figured in the life of this household.
In a pie, for example.
I don't know anything about that.
A very nasty practical joke, I suppose.
It annoyed Rex. It really did.
He had Heidrich, that's the gardener,
patrol the grounds with a shotgun.
He was afraid of something, not just annoyed?
Oh, quite.
I just think it was a silly joke.
Can you tell me why your late father-in-law
left you so much money in your own right?
I asked him for it.
- Asked him for it? Just like that? - Yes.
- And he gave it to you? - Yes.
I said,"Rex, when you die,
"will you leave me a little money of my own because Percival is so mean!"
And Rex said yes.
- So you're gonna get your money? - Yes. Isn't it nice?
Tell me,
your late father-in-law's death, what were your feelings about that?
I think I was quite pleased, really.
We were... I was going to get my money after all.
After all?
Sorry? I was going to get my money.
I see.
- So you weren't sorry? - Oh, no. He was a horrid man, you know.
No wonder it's called the gutter press.
I can't believe it's us they're writing about.
I'm sorry, my darling. I'm bad luck. I warned you, you know.
Don't say that. You're not to say that. It's bloody nonsense!
You're the best luck I ever had.
What is it, darling?
Nothing.
What is it, Lance?
Look here, old thing.
I don't think I can face this idea of being a desk wallah, you know?
I really don't. It's clear that Percival doesn't want me around the place.
I see. Then what are you going to do?
I want to go back to Africa, Pat. I hate this place! Let's go back.
But how would we manage?
Come in.
Ah, good. Mr. Fortescue, I wonder if you could help me.
Will you excuse me, Inspector?
- Why don't you join us later, Lance? - What?
Miss Marple and me. For coffee.
Oh, yes, good. Why not?
Yes, Inspector. What is it?
Well, sir, I've been asking everybody this.
I might as well ask you, even though you've been abroad.
I wonder, could you... could you tell me anything about blackbirds?
Blackbirds?
Oh, you must mean the old Blackbird Mine,
the one that Father caught a cold over.
He got taken for a ride by some old digger
up on the high veld or somewhere.
There was no gold in the thing and Father damn near died of malaria.
There was some scandal about his partner, who actually did die of malaria.
His widow tried to sue him. I think. Well, Aunt Effie will know the details.
I don't believe this was ever a happy house,
in spite of all the money that's been spent.
But only money, I suspect. No real affection.
No.
Have you noticed how nothing is really what it seems?
The furniture is supposed to be Louis XVI but it's been made in Birmingham.
The paintings are supposed to be Venetian
but were probably knocked up in Chelsea.
Nothing is solid or real.
As if the whole house and everything in it were some kind of gigantic fake.
- What did you say, my dear? - About it being a fake?
The whole house and everything that goes on in it...
I said everything in it, not that goes on in it.
Oh, yes, of course.
Stupid of me.
I wondered if you could tell me anything about the Blackbird Mine.
Oh. You've got on to that, have you?
That was the Marple woman, wasn't it?
I'll tell you.
My late brother-in-law went into it with a man called Mackenzie.
They went out to Africa together and Mackenzie died there.
Rex came home.
He subsequently admitted that the thing was worthless. Hurt his pride, I think.
But then, pride and grace ne'er dwelt in one place.
- Where was the mine? - I don't know. Africa somewhere.
Percival will know.
The, er, Mackenzies didn't let it rest, I gather.
Oh, you want the hearsay as well, do you?
I'd be most grateful, ma'am.
Mrs. Mackenzie was an unbalanced sort of woman.
Ended up in an asylum, I believe.
She came here, you know,
dragging along a couple of young children who looked scared to death.
Accused Rex of murdering her husband.
Said she'd bring up her children to take their revenge.
Old sins cast long shadows.
The children.
How about this? As a motive, at least.
Rex Fortescue
swindles some bloke called Mackenzie out of his share of a gold-mine
and Mackenzie dies.
One way or another, the widow reckons that Fortescue killed him.
She becomes obsessed by revenge. She brings up the children to avenge the father.
- What happened to the mother? - She ended up in a loony bin.
She may still be there.
We've got to find her.
If she's alive, I wanna know where she is.
That's an absolute priority.
The Mackenzie children, could one of them be here, in the house?
Yeah. Or nearby.
Dubois, Mary Dove, Jennifer Fortescue, they're all about the right age.
- Reckon you know who it is? - Yes. I do.
Mackenzie's Blackbird Mine?
What or where is that?
I think you know very well, Miss Dove.
I assure you, I'm quite in the dark.
You know, Inspector, that it's up to you to prove I am
this Miss Mackenzie, whoever she is.
At least I will have the pleasure of your company
while you probe the mystery of my identity.
- Please don't mock me, Miss Dove. - I wasn't intending to.
As a matter of fact, I meant it.
Despite the fact that you're keen to implicate me,
however obscurely, in murder.
If you continue to look into my affairs and are extremely clever,
you will find certain minor discrepancies in the household accounting.
I have no intention of begging like Jennifer
or selling myself like poor Adele.
However, if I find you are near the heart of my secret,
I shall be able to replace the money and then it will be impossible to prosecute.
Do you find that immoral, in such a place as this?
I wish you hadn't done it.
Here, Sarge.
Marmalade.
I suppose we can get it analysed.
It's bitter enough to disguise the poison.
Rex was the only one who ever touched the stuff.
Yeah, I know that,
but anyone who's able to organize that part of it
isn't gonna get rid of the evidence by chucking it out the pantry window into the bushes.
Yes sir, But we were onto the taxine so quickly.
They may have thought they had a day or two in hand.
Yeah.
And if we do find taxine in it, that opens it up a bit, don't it?
- How? - Anyone could have done it.
It was in the house after the previous day's breakfast was put away.
Yeah, but who does that include who wasn't involved before?
Percival Fortescue.
All right,
if you're saying that my father's death was in my immediate financial interest,
yes, you're right.
But I have no motive for killing Adele.
I happen to know she willed her £100,000 out of the family.
What would be the point?
Come on, sir.
If you know that,
then you must have known she had to outlive her husband by a month to inherit
or else the money reverted to the estate. In other words, you, sir.
There was point, all right. Point in killing them both.
With respect.
So you thought that Gladys had gone out to meet her young man?
Well, I don't know. She seemed... She seemed well, kind of waiting for something.
Looking out the window, you know what I mean?
Yes, I do.
Got it! Before she took the tea through, she answered the telephone.
Gladys did.
She didn't as a rule,
but this time she fair plummeted through that door after it.
- And did she say who it was? - No. She said,"Wrong number."
Indeed, yes.
Most interesting, Mrs. Crump.
Now,
I wonder, would you think me very greedy if I helped myself to another biscuit?
So, what percentage of the company capital
would you estimate all the African holdings to be?
Come off it, man. God knows.
I thought I was digging you out of a hole.
Make no mistake,
I want to get out but I need some prospects.
I've got Pat to consider.
Can't be as much as 20 per cent.
All right. All right, yes, perhaps that was a bit churlish of me.
So, you want the balance of your 20 per cent in cash, do you?
We thought if you could secure us a loan
or lend us £1,500 a year for the next five years.
Five years?
All right, four.
I just thought you might have things on a better footing by then.
That's true.
Um... do you want this wretched Blackbird Mine, as well?
Sure, sure. Throw it all in.
What on earth are those?
My birthright. Tight little Percy just assigned them to me.
A chunk of the dark continent which Percival thinks is worth tuppence!
Oh, Percy, Percy, when you find out!
Come on, gorgeous! We've got a plane to catch.
- You're not just taking it? - Certainly.
Percival's the organised one, he can organise it back from the airport.
Oh!
- Got anything? - Mrs. Mackenzie.
- Good. Where is she? - You can walk it in a quarter of an hour.
What?
A mile by road, but cut through the woods...
Burnham Ridley, the Pine Sanatorium.
Come on. Let's go talk to the Mackenzie woman.
- How big is this place? - It's a converted private house...
- Oh, Inspector. - Yes, Miss Marple?
Oh, you weren't thinking of the sanatorium?
Visiting there, by any chance?
- Not that that's important. - What isn't?
- Mrs. Mackenzie. More to the point... - What do you know about Mrs. Mackenzie?
Just everything there is to know. Not that there's much, I'm afraid.
I went there this morning. The poor dear's mind is gone.
No, what is much more important is that
I think I saw Lance Fortescue and his wife driving away.
Now, he must be stopped, I'm afraid.
He had business in Paris.
No reason to detain him. He wasn't in the country when the first...
Yes, I know, but I think they ought to be stopped.
Well, don't ask me why. I can tell you the how.
Well, not the precise how but the general how. The why escapes me.
Except, of course, that it's greed, one knows that, naturally, but...
No, I expect the precise why will emerge in due course.
Oh, dear.
You think they should be stopped, Miss Marple?
He should. Yes.
Well, Miss Marple, I failed to listen to you once and I regretted it.
Put out a call for Fortescue's car. They'll be heading for Northolt.
Right, sir.
Now, Miss Marple, perhaps you could elaborate.
Oh, yes.
Yeah. Bentley. Registration GXA 579.
General surveillance only. Right.
We found the marmalade in the garden but I can't believe...
Oh, so that was how it was done. Yes. Yes, very simple. Of course.
Yes, but it's such a stupid way of getting rid of the evidence.
Oh, but the killer of Rex Fortescue wasn't very bright, I'm afraid.
- Who was that? - It was Gladys Martin, of course.
Oh, she didn't mean to. She put the taxine in the marmalade
- but she didn't think it was poison. - What did she think it was?
I imagine she thought it was some form of a truth drug, you know. Something like that.
She was told to put it in just as she was told to put
a handful of rye in Rex Fortescue's pocket
and just as she was told to serve honey for tea.
You have to keep constantly in mind that poor Gladys was not attractive.
She was a lump, I'm afraid, and, more importantly still, very credulous.
It would have been easy to believe in a truth drug if told her by a personable young man.
- And who was that? - Well, he called himself Albert Evans.
He met her at a holiday camp.
He flattered her, made love to her and told her a story of injustice.
That was where the truth drug came in.
It was to have taken effect when Rex Fortescue arrived at his office.
There, forced by this miracle of modern science,
he was to have admitted the truth before witnesses.
Her Albert got her to apply for a job here
and, I must say, she had very good references, even though I do say it myself.
And when she knew that she had caused his death...
What was the first thing that she said to you when you questioned her?
- She said,"I didn't do it." - Exactly. That's exactly what she would say.
If ever she broke a vase or something she would always say,
"I didn't do it, Miss Marple. I can't think how it happened." Poor dear.
Besides, Albert was meeting her the next day
and she knew he would explain everything to her.
That was the telephone call she took before tea.
So she brought the tray into the hall,
she saw him outside, she left the tray,
she went out to meet him and he killed her.
Yes, exactly.
And her Albert?
Oh, I'm so sorry, didn't I say? Lance Fortescue.
There she blows.
Oh, no.
Please, no.
It was that poor sad girl Pat who put me onto it.
Blackbird business and the pocketful of rye.
The way things fitted into the rhyme were all a complete fake,
like much in this house,
used by Lance Fortescue, who had heard about the blackbirds.
What's happening, Lance?
What have you done?
Have you swindled Percival or something?
What the hell do we do now?
We're observing him.
We were told to keep him under observation and we are.
He told me to go to hell.
And he meant it.
He meant hell.
Who did?
His own son.
The bloody sadist.
Well, he's finished hurting people.
He thought the only way to get his hand on the money was to kill his father.
He used the nursery rhyme to cover his tracks.
Just as he used poor Gladys.
After I saw Aunt Effie,
I slipped down the back stairs and round to the sitting room to see Adele.
I knew the lazy cat would be there.
She said as much just by looking at me.
She was waiting.
I could have laced her tea five times over.
It must have been more than greed to plan all that.
Oh, yes.
And of course, his real madness was thinking he could do what he did
and keep the love of a girl like Pat.
It was for us, you see.
I wanted for us to be all right.
You're the only thing I've ever really loved,
the only person who really cared.
I knew you'd see it through, you see.
You're...
You're the one.
I mean you...
Pat.
I told you. I'm bad luck.
I can't.
Then get out! Get out!
Rex Fortescue was about to pull off the most spectacular coup of his life.
All those dud African properties,
including the famous Blackbird Mine,
were practically next door to each other.
In 12 months,
he'd accumulated a small mountain range of high-grade uranium ore.
It's worth millions.
All businessmen are the victims of greed
some way or another, I fear.
I'd like to thank you, Miss Marple.
I don't think I'd have got there without you.
Yes. Men like Lance, you know,
always prove their own hangman.
Yes, you would have got there.
I just happened to know Gladys
and I happened to hear Mrs. Parson's little children singing.
Oh, excuse me, Inspector.
Did you want a word, Mrs. Fortescue?
Oh, no. No, no.
Was it your mother's idea or yours?
The nurses said you were very kind to her.
Poor Mammy.
Yes, it was her idea. I mean, her idea.
But it was you who thought of marrying Percival.
Sort of.
It sort of happened, really.
And the blackbirds? Was that your idea of avenging your father?
Mammy made me. She did.
Nevertheless, it was very naughty.
Rex deserved it. He was a horrid man.
That's not the point.
No.
Well, you'll be leaving your husband now, will you?
Yes.
Yes. Well, goodbye, Mrs. Fortescue.
Goodbye.
Thank you.
Well, so the Mackenzies got their money after all.
At least, £40,000 worth of it.
That's what she meant. Yes, I see.
All she had to do was ask. Old Rex just gave it to her.
Oh, do you think so? I think he knew who she was.
But there we shall never know now, will we?
- Well, goodbye, Inspector. - Goodbye.
Now, Inch... Thank you. Saint Mary Mead.
Yes, ma'am.