Father Brown

- Gas board, Miss. - The meter's at the top of the stairs.

The Pope's coronation gift to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth

has left Vatican City on the first leg of its journey to London.

The Pelagius Cross, a magnificent necklace comprised of emeralds and rubies

is said to be beyond price.

It will be accompanied to London by representatives of His Holiness

and a cohort of Swiss guards.

The Papal Prelate will visit the Roman Catholic dioceses of Liverpool and Gloucester

before arriving in London, where the gift will be presented to Her Majesty

at a state banquet at Buckingham Palace.

In nomine Patris, et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.

Ah, Father, how very capricious.

- We were just on our way to find you. - Seen the news then?

Such an honour! Not that the likes of us will get a glimpse.

That is where you're wrong, Mrs M. I thought you should see this.

It's all very last-minute and hush-hush, what with the high security.

"Bishop Flaynard requests the pleasure of your company

at a reception to present the Pelagius Cross".

Idiot.

Not you, Mrs McCarthy.

- He makes Bishop Talbot... - God rest his soul.

- look like Solomon. - You thinking what we're thinking?

Opportunity makes a thief.

Sheffield Steel. Capable of withstanding five pounds of explosives.

You could dynamite the building and it would be left standing.

That is of huge consolation.

I'm stationing four men inside the room and two more outside the door.

No entry or exit from the window

a sheer drop of fifty feet to the ground with a reassuring lack of footholds.

Good afternoon, Bishop Reynard. Father Brown.

Which one?

My lord?

I have two incumbents named Brown.

Parish of Little Haydock - competent but uninspired -

and Kembleford - total ruddy liability.

Which, I wonder, are you?

Take a wild guess. What d'you want, Padre?

I believe you are holding a reception for the Pelagius Cross.

If you're angling for an invitation, I regret your presence isn't requisite.

It's not my presence you should be worried about.

Are you familiar with the name of Hercule Flambeau?

Who isn't?

What makes you think he'll turn up in Gloucester?

- Call it an educated guess. - I know what I'd call it.

It's exactly the prize he would covet.

And the opportunity he needs.

He'd have to blow the safe without razing the building, and escape on wings.

Until the jewel is removed from the safe for display to all and sundry.

To a select group of highly vetted guests.

Where it will be surrounded by my men.

If Frenchy is moronic enough to turn up, we'll nab him.

- He's a master of disguise. - I assume there's a point to all this.

I'm one of the few people that can identify him.

- Let me be your eyes and ears, my lord. - You can see yourself out.

I answer to a higher authority than you, inspector.

Indeed he does.

Very well, Father.

You've a file thicker than my arm

but unlike my predecessor, I believe in keeping the more intransigent elements where I can see them.

On your own head.

But for the record, one of the cardinals is tipped to be the next Secretary of State.

Embarrass me and the torments of Job will feel like the mildest of rebukes.

Whoever described England as green and pleasant

had never laid eyes on Liverpool.

Or eaten its food.

What news from Rome? is there any word on Cardinal Brunocelli?

There is no change in his condition.

He has remarkable stamina for a man of 98.

Any rumours to his successor?

His Eminence has decided to wait until his body is cold

before announcing his replacement.

Allora, let us pray for him.

This is becoming tedious.

Humble acts of genuflection. They always appear so conceited.

Deference is a virtue that has sadly passed you by.

I hear you're playing guard dog at the reception.

Is that what you want?

- You're in danger of becoming predictable. - Oh, never second-guess a thief.

It limits your chances of catching them.

You want to steal the Pelagius Cross and I want to stop you.

The rules have changed. This time I need your help.

Her name is Marianne Delacroix.

She was kidnapped two days ago from her lodgings in Oxford.

My name is Nero Hound.

Please don't scream. There's no one to hear you.

You've made a mistake.

I've no family to pay you ransom.

I don't make mistakes, Miss Marianne Delacroix.

Born 2nd June 1931, educated at Cheltenham Ladies' College and the Sorbonne.

Now taking your PhD in Fine Art at St Hilda's College, Oxford

where you have many acquaintances but no real friends

and live alone with your cat, Autolycus.

Do you know who Autolycus was, Terry?

He was the son of the god Hermes

inheriting his father's skills for theft and trickery

and bequeathed the gift that his thieving could never be caught.

An unusual name for a pet, Miss Delacroix.

What do you want?

Please. No.

Oh, rest assured. I prefer my women... willing.

And I desire something far more precious than your virtue.

I received this.

- A ransom note? - Crude but efficacious.

The sender was good enough to leave his signature.

- A dog. - A black dog.

The mark of Nero Hound - a miscreant mongrel with dangerous aspirations.

- Friend of yours? - An old score to settle.

He'd cut her throat in a heartbeat.

She's very beautiful.

Although, if you don't mind my saying...

she's rather young for you, isn't she?

She's my daughter.

You know my father.

Better than most.

Then you have me at another disadvantage.

I know he's the only man that can steal the Pelagius Cross

from a cohort of Swiss guards.

My father abandoned me before I was born.

He abandoned me to a Colombian firing squad.

So, we have something in common.

And if he doesn't bring you this jewel?

Be assured, I'll take no pleasure in killing you.

I've never met the man.

What makes you think he cares if I live or die?

Pride?

He has until 7pm on Monday.

Her mother?

A ballerina in the corps at the Paris opera.

A brief pas de deux. Strangers passing in the night.

A stranger who bore you a child.

I thought you'd approve.

What? I spared her my corrupting presence and honoured my obligations.

Denied her father's love.

You of all people should know how that feels.

She received every advantage.

- The finest education money can buy. - And in return?

I received a photograph once a year from her mother.

Look, you've reason enough not to trust me.

The truth is in her eyes.

I believe she is your daughter.

And you have surprised me.

What do you want?

I want you to practise what you preach.

Excluding the eighth commandment, presumably.

But not the tenth.

Greed is a sin and your church is rotten with it.

The Pope is St Peter's successor.

Theft from him is theft from God.

A God who favours the poor over the rich?

You could say I was doing him a favour.

And my soul?

You preach that possessions are worthless.

Only God and men have eternal value.

You would blackmail me with my own morality?

Oh, I'll do whatever it takes.

And you would rather a theft on your conscience than a life.

I believe you want to save her.

Perhaps after all there is some hope for your redemption.

Run that by me again.

Well, he wants me to look the other way while he steals it.

What's the difference?

Well, I'm hoping God will make the distinction.

And you would see through his disguise.

- He is not involving her as well. - I can speak for myself thank you, Sidney.

And you believe this cock-and-bull story of his?

- I believe that she's his daughter. - Father Brown's right.

- The resemblance is startling. - So what if she is?

- They're probably in it together. - I don't think so.

- Look at her eyes. - Ah...

You've noticed that as well.

If this were a ploy, she'd be trying to look scared.

But that's not fear, it's defiance.

This is the Pope's gift to Her Majesty we're talking about!

In my experience, Mrs McCarthy, jewels are vastly overrated.

Welcome, Your Eminence.

Inspector Mallory from the Kembleford Constabulary

may I present Cardinal Bonipogio...

Head of Protocol.

and Cardinal Papillon.

Chief of Security.

I think you'll find my arrangements more than satisfactory.

Hmm.

- May I...? - Certo, certo.

Bene, bene. Scusi, scusi.

Ahem...

Oh... magnificent!

- Her Majesty is indeed fortunate! - Si.

Si.

Excellent.

Bon.

- Who else has the combination? - Only the inspector and myself.

And I will require it in case of... emergencies.

In the meantime, four of my men will stay on twenty-four-hour guard.

The jewel has its own guard.

With respect, Your Honour, how do I know I can trust 'em?

No more than I know if I can trust yours.

We have a saying here in England. "The more the merrier"!

And another one. "Too many cooks spoil the broth".

I asked for your help, not your army.

Well, someone has to make sure you don't double-cross him.