Murder Is Easy Page #2

the theory of probability.

Luke, you can't believe

her story.

This country is teeming

with these dotty old dears

full of direst imaginings.

They're a type.

Stout shoes,

capacious handbag.

Getting warm?

Probably had a budgerigar

as well, or a cat.

Wonky Pooh.

I rest my case.

[]

Oh, all right,

I'll take you to your funeral

at Wychwood, then.

But I shall definitely

expect you to come up

with the Gold Cup winner

at the Royal Ascot for me.

[TIRES SQUEAL]

MAN:

"The beginning and the end.

"I will give unto him

that is athirst

"at the fountain

of the water of life freely.

"He that overcometh

shall inherit all things,

"and I will be his god

and he shall be my son."

And so the time has come

for us to say

our last goodbye

to our dear friend,

Lavinia Fullerton.

And indeed, you have all

been good friends to her.

Mr. Abbot,

who served her well

as a... A legal advisor

for many years.

[]

Major Horton.

And you are remembering

today, I know, how...

How faithfully Miss Fullerton

attended your wife in...

In her last illness.

Mr. Ellsworthy.

Ah.

Mr. Ellsworthy.

Yes.

[COUGHS]

And Miss Waynflete,

of course. Heh.

Honoria,

how well I remember

you and Lavinia

as young ladies,

with Clarence Humbleby.

And with your father too,

Bridget, dear.

God rest his soul.

[MAN SNIFFS]

[CLEARS THROAT]

VICAR:

Ah, yes, certainly, of course.

Lord Easterfield,

always a fine friend

to all, I'm sure.

[BELL TOLLING]

Hey, Jimmy,

will you slow down?

I wanna talk to them...

That old snob's

gaining on us.

EASTERFIELD:

Mr. Lorrimer.

Lord Easterfield.

So it was you

at the funeral.

Is Lady Barbara not with you?

How is she?

Oh, Mama is very well.

Splendid. Well,

come along to tea.

Oh, don't think

that's possible.

EASTERFIELD:

Nonsense. Of course it's possible.

It's perfectly possible.

I only just live...

Gordon, dear. Really,

you mustn't insist.

I'm Bridget Conway,

Lord Easterfield's secretary.

Jimmy Lorrimer.

And Luke Williams.

EASTERFIELD:

Bridget,

Mr. Lorrimer

is coming to tea.

BRIDGET:

Gordon, please.

I gather Miss Fullerton

was a friend.

Uh, no, actually,

we came to see somebody.

JIMMY:

That's right.

A duty call for Mama, really.

An old acquaintance

of hers.

Fellow called Humbleby.

Dr. Humbleby?

Oh, dear.

Well, you're out of luck there.

Humbleby's dead.

[]

LAVINIA:

And I feel certain

that Dr. Humbleby

will be next.

[VEHICLE APPROACHING]

LUKE:

Now, come on.

I'm the expert on probability,

so don't tell me that Humbleby

just happened to drop dead

right on schedule.

I'm not leaving till I find out

what's going on around here.

Oh, very well.

But you can't simply

just waltz into a poky,

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