Jonathan Creek

Ladies and gentlemen,

welcome to this movie theatre -

the doors of which, you will note, are now locked.

So you may abandon

any hope of escape.

I see you have a predilection for the macabre.

So allow me to whet your appetite for a tale of terror

that will challenge your very concept of evil.

In a wild and ravaged corner of this country,

more than a century-and-a-half ago,

legendary was the name of Sir Jacob Surtees,

a heartless nobleman of dark Satanic powers.

Assuming the guise of a hideous phantasm,

he would stalk his prey.

Sating his thirst for flesh in a most vile and twisted manner.

To a ghastly theatre of perverted practice

and torture were conveyed the objects of his lust

and their ill-fated lovers...

No!

...where, it was averred by those who were forced to watch,

he would consign each victim to ungodly oblivion.

To the end of his days,

no rational means or human agency could ever account for the horrors

that took place in that chamber -

as you too, my friends, will discover when you encounter

the Brides Of The Damned.

OK, you'll be ready to stretch your legs now, probably.

Rain seems to be easing off a bit, so...

Only, I'd as soon not go any further.

It's just, erm, this place, you know?

Obviously, don't want to believe everything you hear, but...

No worries. Erm, what do we owe you?

I know it sounds stupid, but...

No, no, no. We understand. There you go.

15 years of nightmares.

I suppose this was never going to be easy.

Hey, remember the mantra?

It's just bricks and cement...

and a shitload of Victorian superstition.

As houses go, it's as safe as...

Argh!!

What the hell?! You all right?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. - Give me a break! - Sorry, sorry.

That was NOT supposed to happen. - God almighty. Stephen?

The masonry up there, I think.

Talk about a deathtrap. - It's seen better days.

Who was it said, "Every time Nathan Clore directed a film,

"it was a turkey shoot"?

Er, some smartarse wordsmith.

Of course. This is, er...

A consequence of his most recent aneurysm

has been a near-total shutdown of the body's neurological

and motor functions.

But he CAN still hear.

And his eyes, Mr Belkin, I should warn you,

are very much alive.

Erm...

I always thought the only way I could deal with what happened

was to put as much distance between the two of us as possible.

But then I suppose you grow up,

realise the futility of denial.

And when I got your letter two weeks ago...

Your stepfather had so much he wanted to say to you.

It was barely three days after he wrote that.

It's beyond cruel, the way things have worked out.

"The time has finally come, for you to learn the truth."

Somewhere in this house,

if we look hard enough,

we'll get to unlock the past.

God help us...

to live with what we find.

Hello, is that Laszlo Hasselhoff, of Hasselhoff Hassle-Free Removals?

It's Jonathan Creek.

Yeah, this text you've sent me.

"Job number 640C 2B confirmed."

Does that mean you're confirming job number 640C 2B,

or that job number 640C is still awaiting process?

In spite of the fact, I notice,

that my cheque for the deposit cleared 11 days ago.

Creek.

C-R-E-E...

Yes, all right, put Zoltan on.

House Of Fun by Madness

'Hello.

'Speaking. No. No, no...' - How about this?

Perfect!

With the front turned up, maybe.

'Can I... can I stop you there?'

I know what I meant to say to you, Polly.

My other half, last week, was doing a job at this big, old house,

erm, Daemons' Roost, did he say was the name of it?

Reckoned there'd been all sorts of strange and unexplained stuff

gone on there over the years.

Owner's on his last legs now,

and the step-daughter's come back to take over the property.

Well, straightaway, of course, I thought of Jonathan.

Sounded just the sort of thing he might be inter...

Yes! Er, are you sure that's going to fit on like that, Nina?

Maybe a bit of stitching, to keep it in place?

Friday morning, they're saying now.

I'll believe that when I see it. Ruddy cowboys.

Well, I don't know why we have to see it.

I thought the whole point of downsizing

was to have a good declutter, get rid of the past -

yours as well as mine.

Load of old junk from the windmill.

Can you believe it's taken five years to sell that thing?

How he thinks it's all going to fit in this place...?

Right, I think all we need now is a needle and thread.

Ooh, my sewing box is out there on the shelf.

If you want to go and pick some cotton, I think we'll be there.

Are you out of your tiny mind?! - What's your problem?

In this day and age?! You'll get us all arrested!

Well, I only told her to go and pick some cotton... - All right! Just...

Sorry about that. Have you met my wife, Senator Barry Goldwater?

See what I have to live with?

And, erm, this is looking very...

He's got no idea.

It's the Scarecrow Carnival.

Organised every summer, by the Reverend Wendell Wilkie,

in Amblesham. - - Parish newsletter?

Big fan of yours, of course. He's always saying he'd love to meet you.

£50 prize for the funniest entry? You should give it a go.

Give you a chance to lighten up for a change.

Enter into the community spirit.

I don't think so.

No, no, I can see you definitely,

in her eyes.

So this would've been the last Christmas before, er...?

Why, Phillipa...

after 15 years of silence does the man who packed me off

to a foster home decide it's time to play at being a parent again?

Tell me.

Certain corners of his life were so sensitive.

What happened to your mother and the children,

obviously he couldn't bring himself to share with me.

I so wish I could help you, Alison, but...

And you've had your own tragic loss to deal with, as I understand?

I mean, forgive me, I've no desire to...

Wallow in all the gory details...

of how my first wife was poisoned to death?

Yes, it's fair to say, Miss Teller,

life's been a bit of a train wreck for both of us.

The main thing is we've found each other now

and whatever we have to face from here on, we face together.

"Qui olim iussit daemonia."

"Who once commanded devils."

Yeah, we've both seen the film.

All that stuff in the dungeon, seriously camped up for effect.

But based on source material?

Contemporary accounts, from all those women who witnessed it

with their own eyes, who had no reason to lie?

She saw something from that window.

What did she see?

Something in this place that took her away from me.

That took both my sisters.

The truth, he said, Stephen - how do we get to the truth?

That guy who sorted things out for YOU!

No. Different circumstances.

There was a fresh crime scene, hard evidence,

clues to pick through.

But he turned the whole case on its head when no-one else could see it.

What was his name again?

'25, perhaps, but in the south it looks like clouds and rain.

'Hovering around 15 or so.'

Don't worry, I haven't come to baptise you!

Mr Creek? Wendell Wilkie - St Hugh's of Amblesham.

I should think your hair nearly caught fire, did it, yesterday?

Excuse me? - The way your ears were burning.

Your friend Nina and I - did she tell you?

I'm your biggest fan!

When I found out you were right here on my doorstep...

"Well, pop round, pay him a call," she said,

"He won't mind, he's a lovely gent!" So, er, here I am.

God bless you.

Sorry - mustn't talk shop!

So, what are you up to at the moment, Jonathan?

Anything exciting on the horizon?

Any juicy locked-room mysteries I should know about?

No, it all tends to be fairly quiet these days...

Cos that WAS a classic, wasn't it? Satan's Chimney.

Spoiler alert - the old descending ceiling.

You don't get cases like that any more.

So, er, what would actually be your personal favourite, then?

The corpse that climbed up the cellar steps...

the vanishing skeleton - have to be top of my list.

Anything with an empty tomb, you can't go wrong.

As the apostle said to the heretic!

But, no, got to come clean - there was a purpose to my visit.

I'm sure you'll remember that horrible business -

a while back now - in the House Of Monkeys?

Poor old scientist, ended up with a Samurai sword through his middle.

And, of course, the guy they put away for it -

by the name of Patrick Tyree - thanks to your endeavours,

I've got to know quite well over the years, through my prison visits.

Nasty piece of work, you might say. Well, yes, he was,

but no man who finds God is beyond contrition and repentance.

And I tell you what - today, you wouldn't recognise him.

The monster in his breast is vanquished.

His soul has been cleansed.