♪ ♪ He's finished it.

(gasps) "Magpie Murders."

It's very Agatha Christie.

CONWAY (voiceover): There were many who considered Atticus Pünd to be the world's greatest detective.

(gasps) CONWAY: Three deaths that seem to have no connection.

SUSAN: It's missing the last chapter!

A whodunit without the ending.

♪ ♪ I'm going to go to Suffolk and look for the missing pages.

PÜND: There's no such thing as a coincidence.

Miss Ryeland!

PÜND: Everything in life is part of a pattern.

SUSAN: The dim detective.

He based a character on you.

SUSAN: It's his last novel... and everyone he knew was in it.

(strained grunt) ♪ ♪ That's why the last chapter was taken.

Because it reveals the secret.

♪ ♪ (bird caws) The answer's in the book.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ CONWAY (voiceover): Chapter One: Sorrow.

There were many who considered Atticus Pünd to be the world's greatest detective, but as he walked down Harley Street on that awful, no-- fateful, yes, day in the summer of 1955... Chapter One: Sorrow.

There were many who considered Atticus Pünd to be the world's greatest... A single magpie watched him from a tree as he returned.

What was it telling him?

He was about to find out.

♪ ♪ The Church of St. Bartles had a long and varied history... Boring.

♪ ♪ As Pünd walked home, he was already putting it all into context.

Brent, the gardener at Pye Hall... Chapter Five: Silver.

Come on, come on, come on, come on... (snoring) ♪ ♪ Yes!

Clarissa Pye was... (groans) Robert Blakiston had never... (exhales) No.

♪ ♪ (mutters) Detective Inspector Chubb very much liked grabbing a suspect by the throat.

That was his method and it might've worked for him, but Pünd wasn't so sure.

♪ ♪ Chapter Seven: A Secret Never to Be Told.

What else can I tell you about Atticus Pünd?

He had solved his last case, the death of Mary Blakiston, soon followed by another death at Pye Hall.

And, of course, the tragedy that had taken place 12 years before.

Three deaths that seemed to have no connection until Atticus Pünd brought them together and made sense of them.

He was more than a friend.

He was the kindest and wisest man I ever knew.

The end.

♪ ♪ (strained grunt) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (horns honking) (announcer speaking German on loudspeaker) (overlapping chatter) (machines beeping) (speaking German) Halt, halt, halt-- stop, stop.

What?

Your phone.

(groans) (breathing heavily) Ah.

(phone ringing) Oh!

Hi, Charles-- no, I'm, I'm at the book fair.

Yesterday was...

Please!

wall-to-wall, so, and I've got Klaus at 9:00, so can I call you back later?

Yeah.

Okay, bye, bye.

(speaking German) (speaking German) ♪ ♪ Oh, hi, Susan!

Oh, hi!

♪ ♪ (sighs) So... Good morning, Klaus!

Atticus Pünd-- you have considered my offer?

Yes.

And?

It's not enough.

I don't agree.

Well, you wouldn't, would you?

Come on, Susan, we're old friends.

We don't need to haggle.

Oh.

I thought that was what I was here for.

(chuckles) 18 million copies sold worldwide, two-and-a-half million in this territory.

35 languages, and a TV series on the way.

Wörterhaus are no longer interested.

Oh, we left Wörterhaus-- Alan Conway didn't like them.

He reads his translations?

He reads his royalty statements.

They were getting lazy.

(gasps) (speaking German) We can go to 75,000 Euros.

We won't go below 100.

That's too high.

Well, he has a new book.

"Magpie Murders," have you read it?

He hasn't delivered it yet, but it'll be number one, like the last one, and the one before.

Okay.

I can give you an answer this evening.

Not here.

How about a drink at your hotel?

You're not the only interested party, Klaus.

(chuckles) Nice doing business.

♪ ♪ (knocking on door) ANDREAS: Miss Ryeland.

SUSAN: Yes?

Your champagne.

I didn't order any champagne.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Then I must have the wrong room.

♪ ♪ (chuckles) (clears throat) No, um...

I think you should leave it.

Actually... why don't you share it with me?

I'm sorry, madam.

Hotel policy.

Oh...

I was told it was a full-service hotel.

It can be.

(chuckling) SUSAN: How did you know where to find me?

ANDREAS: I rang your office.

Alice told me.

(laughs) Remind me to talk to her.

You don't know who you might have found me with.

Klaus Eckerman?

Oh-- (scoffs) God, no.

Credit me with some taste.

Aren't you supposed to be teaching?

I took the day off.

You came all this way?

Mm.

God, you're lovely.

Where did you get the waist coat?

(chuckles) I bribed a waiter.

(laughter) (sighs) Aw.

Glad to see you, I've had a horrible time here.

We can go home together.

Same flight?

17-F. (gasps) Alice is promoted.

(chuckles) We have the weekend.

Great.

Mm.

Can't wait.

Yamas.

Cin, cin.

(chuckles) ANNOUNCER: Your train now arriving on track four.

Express, Stansted Airport.

Stansted Airport.

SUSAN: I'm going to take a taxi, do you want to share?

No, I'll take the tube.

What time am I gonna see you tomorrow?

I'll come at lunchtime.

But, but I'm out in the evening.

Oh!

Where?

We're rehearsing the school play.

Okay, well, see you when I see you.

Thanks for surprising me.

DRIVER: Thank you.

ALICE: So how was Frankfurt?

Oh, the usual madness.

(laughs) This... is for you.

Oh... You shouldn't have.

I didn't.

It's from Andreas-- and no smutty jokes.

Oh, he found you, then?

Yes.

I'll talk to you about that another time.

Just tell me it's arrived.

Charles wants to see you.

Meaning?

He looked happy when he came in.

(knocking on door) Hmm?

Ah.

So?

I had dinner with him last night.

And?

He was his usual charming self.

(laughs) But he's finished it.

(gasps) "Magpie Murders."

One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, and four for a boy.

Five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told.

It's very Agatha Christie-- have you read it yet?

I've started it.

And?

Number one in time for Christmas.

(laughing) Yay!

That's my weekend taken care of.

Oh, one moment, Susan.

We have the meeting next week.

(groaning) Cityworld Media.

Oh, but don't say it like that, you make them sound like the enemy.

They don't understand publishing.

Which is why they want you in charge after the buyout, but they are going to need an answer.

I don't know, Charles.

It's all right for you.

Grandchildren, retirement, cruises.

I will still be here for you, I've told you.

I'm just not sure that I'm cut out to run a company.

Finances, targets...

It's not what I'm used to, I'm an editor.

And you're the best in the business, but, look, this is a huge opportunity for you.

A proper salary more than I could ever afford to pay, plus a 5% share.

After five years.

You'll be rich.

Not as rich as you.

All right, think of the company.

Think of what you could make it.

(sighs) Let's talk on Monday.

Enjoy the read.

Yes!

AZIZ: (reading Ancient Greek) Thank you, Aziz, thank you, sit down.

Homeros Odysseia.

Homer's "Odyssey," one of the greatest epic poems ever written.

Who can tell me what any of those words meant?

Aziz?

George?

(scoffs) (bell rings) Six of them, just six.

Last year it was eight.

Do you know why they even have it as an option?

Well, you got to have somewhere to put the nerds.

Because it's tradition.

It makes the school look good.

Ah.

♪ ♪ (bird caws) ♪ ♪ (exhales) (birds chirping, siren wailing in distance) (music playing) ♪ I've been watching you walk by ♪ ♪ And I haven't said a word ♪ (song continues) ♪ But now I'm ready to get you ♪ ♪ Baby, I want to be your girl ♪ (ice rattling) ♪ I take what I want ♪ ♪ Baby I want you ♪ (song continues) ♪ Come and pick me up ♪ ♪ Carry me away ♪ ♪ I'm packin' up now, baby ♪ ♪ Packin' up today ♪ ♪ Said I take what I want ♪ ♪ Don't you know I want you ♪ ♪ Yes I do ♪ ♪ I'm gonna get you, baby ♪ ♪ I put a claim on you ♪ (song ends) CONWAY (voiceover): Chapter One: Sorrow.

There were many who considered Atticus Pünd to be the world's greatest detective, but, as he walked down Harley Street on that fateful day in the summer of 1955, he knew that he was facing the greatest mystery of all-- his own mortality.

♪ ♪ (car engine puttering) ♪ ♪ (doorbell buzzing) DR. BENSON: You can get dressed now, Mr. Pünd.

PÜND So, Dr. Benson.

Tell me the worst.

Well, there's no sign of any further deterioration.

But I'm afraid it's still not good news.

Oh... how much time do I have?

It's not easy to be precise.

I'm afraid the tumor is very advanced.

(clock ticking) Had we been able to spot it earlier, there's a small chance we might have been able to operate.

(sighs) I'm sorry.

There's no need to be.

I've had a long life.

And I will say, in many respects, it's been a good one.

I've expected to die on many occasions before now.

You might even say that death has been a companion of mine, always two steps behind.

Now he's caught up.

Even so, it would help me to know if, for example, if I were considering a skiing holiday in the Bavarian Alps?

It wouldn't be a good idea.

Do you ski?

No.

And now I never will.

(clock ticking) Why didn't you tell me?

CHARLES (on phone): Tell you what, Susan?

I've just finished the first chapter-- Atticus at the doctor's.

Ah, yes.

Did he tell you he was gonna kill him off?

Well, I haven't got to the end yet.

It might not be terminal.

Well, it bloody well better not be.

Ah, sorry, can't talk, my car is here.

Where's Alan?

CHARLES: In London, heading back home tomorrow.

Well, maybe you should call him.

CHARLES: Finish the book.

We'll talk Monday.

Thank you.

WOMAN: Excuse me?

Eh, are you Alan Conway?

Yes.

I just want to say, I love your books.

When's the next one coming out?

Soon.

Oh.

I know it's a bit cheeky, but I don't suppose I can get a quick selfie with you?

My husband won't believe-- No!

No, I'm sorry.

I'm late for my train.

ANNOUNCER: Passengers are reminded that smoking is not permitted anywhere on the station concourse.

♪ ♪ (strained grunt) The end.

DR RAFTER: Not necessarily.

The cancer's at stage four.

That gives you a ten percent chance.

Ten percent is my royalty.

Never enough.

(coughing) ♪ ♪ (train whooshing past, loud screeching) (voiceover): Dear Charles, I'm very sorry that I wasn't on my best form at dinner last night.

"The Magpie Murders."

It's not "The Magpie Murders"!

"Magpie Murders," that's the bloody title!

(dishes crashing) (train screeching) ♪ ♪ (echoing): Excuse me, are you Alan Conway?

I love your books.

♪ ♪ (train bell clanging) Come here.

(laughing) Oh, stop.

Get a room.

(seagulls squawking) ♪ ♪ (sighs) TEENAGER: Who was that?

My dad.

You don't like him much.

I wish he'd drop dead.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (birds chirping) ♪ ♪ CONWAY: Ass... JACK: (sighs) Not again.

(brakes squeak) (sighs) (car horn honks) (mouthing words, no audible dialogue) (groans) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ For God's sake... ♪ ♪ I hoped you'd already gone.

Just thought I'd say goodbye.

Well, goodbye then.

Did you deliver the manuscript?

Am I still in it?

Do you care?

Alan... (sighs) I think we've said everything we need to say, don't you?

No, I don't.

Well, I do.

I'm sorry.

Sorry about what, exactly?

Humiliating me?

Disappearing whenever you fancied it?

Partying with your friends and presumably having a good laugh about me at the same time?

I've had enough.

Just get out, go on.

You can leave the car.

My car, you mean?

I think you'll find it's my name on the registration.

Just out of interest, how am I meant to get to the station?

Call a taxi.

You can't do this to me, Alan, I have rights, you know.

You have nothing.

Goodbye, James.

SUSAN: You never did like Alan, did you?

He's an unpleasant man.

You knew him before I did.

I knew him when he was just a teacher, before he married Melissa.

He was unpleasant then.

Tzatziki, keftedes, aubergine, Greek halloumi, and hummus.

What would I do without you?

You wouldn't eat.

(chuckles) Retsina?

Why not?

Yay!

Charles wants me to give him an answer.

Mm, the job.

Yeah.

And?

Are you going to do it?

I don't know.

I'm an editor, it's all I've ever done.

Running a company... Don't undersell yourself.

You're brilliant, you could do that.

It's not that.

It's just once we're owned by an investment company, all they're interested in is their figures, and if things go wrong...

But they won't go wrong because you have Atticus Pünd.

Thank God, yeah.

(gasps) The new manuscript arrived.

And?

"Magpie Murders."

Mm.

It's 1955, and we're in the village of Saxby-on-Avon.

Where's that?

Oh, it doesn't exist, they never do.

Mary Blakiston is found dead at Pye Hall.

It's the ancestral home of Sir Magnus.

She was his housekeeper.

What happened to her?

She fell down the stairs.

Or was she pushed?

(chuckles) Another 200 pages and I'll find out.

(groans) So, I'm gonna have to abandon you this afternoon.

No-- no, no, no.

I don't know what I'll do.

Who are you playing?

Man U.

Kicks off at 3:00.

(giggles) And then I've got the school play at 6:00.

TV ANNOUNCER: Comes out to Bransford... (crowd cheers) (grunts) ...to place it but it was deflected along the way.

TV ANNOUNCER: How many times have we seen him do that, whether it's for a free kick or... CONWAY (voiceover): As Pünd walked home, he was already putting it all into context.

It was just another throw of the dice, and in a way, his entire life had been lived against the odds.

♪ ♪ There you are!

PÜND: Hello, James.

I was getting quite worried about you.

Why?

You're late for elevenses.

Oh... Where have you been?

To see Dr. Benson.

Huh.

Is he a client of ours?

No, she's a doctor.

Anything I need to know?

I don't think so.

Well, you have a client arriving in ten minutes.

I put an extra cup out.

What client?

Joy Sanderling, don't you remember?

You may have forgotten to tell me.

Oh... well, she rang the day before yesterday, and you don't have anything on your desk at the moment, so I said it would be all right.

Forgive me, James, but I'm not in the mind to take on a new client just at the moment.

But she's come a long way.

She sounded very distressed.

(sighs) I'm very much in love with Robert Blakiston.

We were childhood sweethearts.

And I'm going to marry him, no matter what anyone says.

And what do they say, Miss Sanderling?

About me?

About your fiancé.

They think he killed his mother.

PÜND: That would be enough, I think, to make anyone think twice.

JOY: But I know they're wrong.

It's just village gossip, it's a lot of nonsense.

So, what is it that occurred to give them this foolish idea?

Robert works in the local garage and his mother, Mary Blakiston, lived in the village.

The two of them didn't get on.

She was always nagging him, and going on at him.

It was almost like she didn't want him to leave home.

Sounds like my mother.

This whole thing began because of a silly argument.

Robert's got a temper to him, I'll admit that.

But she'd been going on at him to mend a light in her cottage and she just picked on him at the wrong time.

(indistinct chatter) MARY: The bathroom light.

ROBERT: I know.

MARY: You said you'd mend it.

ROBERT: I will.

Well, it's been a week now.

I'm on my own.

You should be ashamed of yourself.

ROBERT: I'm having a drink, Mum, all right?

Every minute of every bloody day, you never leave me alone.

Don't use that language with me.

I'm not a child anymore.

No, but I'll tell you what you are.

You're the biggest disappointment of my life.

ROBERT: Well, then get someone else to do it!

All right, and if you can't find anyone, then just drop dead and give me a bit of peace.

♪ ♪ (indistinct chatter) JOY (voiceover): She was found dead the very next day.

At Pye Hall.

It's the ancestral home of Sir Magnus Pye.

She was his housekeeper.

♪ ♪ (bell tolls, bird caws) MINISTER: Mary Blakiston made Saxby-on-Avon a better place for everyone.

And of course everyone is saying that he did it, that he pushed her down the stairs.

How can they be so unkind?

MINISTER: So although we are here today to mourn her departure, we must also remember what she left behind.

PÜND (voiceover): And what do the local police make of this?

JOY: They're still investigating.

But they've talked to Robert several times.

They clearly have their suspicions.

Miss Sanderling, you say you're engaged to be married to Robert Blakiston.

What did his mother think of this?

She was against it, of course.

For what reason?

I don't want to talk about it.

Forgive me, but some might say this gave him exactly the motive to wish to do away with her.

People are saying all sorts of horrible things, Mr. Pünd.

But none of it's true.

I was with him the morning she died.

He has his own flat, and I stayed over that night.

So it couldn't have been him.

Then, what exactly is it that you want me to do?

I want you to come to Saxby-on-Avon.

Just for one day.

If you look into it and tell people it was an accident, I'm sure they'll believe you.

You're famous, everyone knows who you are.

That's all I'm asking, Mr. Pünd.

Come to Saxby.

Tell them the truth.

TV ANNOUNCER: Saka strikes... (shouting): Yes, that's it!

(gasps) Oh!

(Andreas laughing) Sorry!

It's all right.

I take it that was Arsenal?

Saka off a free kick.

What a player, eh?

(sighs) Ooh.

TV ANNOUNCER: As Arsenal retake the lead.

What did he say?

He won't do it.

He says there's nothing he can do about village gossip and that if we just ignore it, it'll go away.

Bastard.

No-- I, I liked him.

I think he would have helped if he thought he could.

What are we going to do?

I don't know.

Well, there are other detectives.

No, I don't think so, Robert.

I'm not going to let them take you away from me.

I love you, Joy, and I'm not going to be driven away by people who don't know anything.

It's not going to happen.

We'll get through this.

We don't need to get the train yet.

Let's have lunch.

Lyon's Corner House?

My treat.

♪ ♪ TV ANNOUNCER: That's it, one-nil.

Aubameyang still... Oh, for God's sake... (sighs) Claire... it's not a good time.

You're watching the football.

Trying to, yes.

Five minutes.

You can talk to me and watch it at the same time.

(sighs) (crowd cheering, TV announcer speaking indistinctly) Um...

I want my old job back.

I thought we both agreed it wasn't working.

(sighs) I need the money, Alan.

I might as well be honest with you.

You know there's not much work in the country and, well, you wouldn't want to see your own sister stuck working behind a bar... Oh!

TV ANNOUNCER: We've seen him put away shots from that distance.

Anyway...

I enjoyed being part of your world.

That's not what you said.

I was wrong, I'm sorry.

But I was under a lot of stress, and frankly, you weren't exactly paying me a fortune.

Even so, I spoke out of turn and, well, I was just wondering if you might think again.

I don't know.

(coughing) Oh, you're still coughing, I thought you were getting that looked at.

I've seen a doctor, it's just a chest infection.

Nothing to worry about.

Mmm.

I see you've finished the new book.

Yes.

Who typed it for you?

I did, Claire-- I can type, you know.

(phone ringing) Oh, for God's sake!

Sorry, I've got to take this, excuse me.

(TV announcer speaking indistinctly) (sighs) SAJID (on phone): Hi, Alan.

I was talking about you.

Sajid, yes, stop talking.

I want you to get the papers over to me as soon as possible.

I'd like to sign them this weekend.

CONWAY (voiceover): The sister.

Unmarried, unloved, and always desperate for cash.

Clarissa Pye looked ridiculous.

And she was the only one in the village who didn't know it.

♪ ♪ She had grown up in Pye Hall, but her brother had cast her out, and now she was alone.

I don't suppose there's any chance you could drop them in tomorrow, is there?

SAJID: On a Sunday?

That's great, thank you.

See you then.

I had to... Claire?

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ SUSAN: Bloody manuscript!

I can't believe it.

It was that bad?

I haven't finished it, there's no last chapter.

Alice or Jemima must have buggered up the photocopying.

It's missing the last chapter!

So you don't know who did it.

It's not funny, Andreas.

It's bloody annoying.

I'm sorry.

Can't you work it out for yourself?

No, these things are always way too complicated for me.

Oh, is there anything more useless than a whodunit without the ending?

Maybe I should call Charles.

Why?

Well, he might have the missing pages.

Don't.

It's Sunday morning, talk to him tomorrow.

Come on, get in.

Come here, come here.

(sighs) (animal chittering) ♪ ♪ (doorbell rings) ♪ ♪ (birds twittering) (doorbell rings) (phone beeps) (phone ringing) ♪ ♪ (phone ringing continues) Alan?

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (animal chittering) SUSAN: I forgot to ask, how was the school play?

ANDREAS: Well, they knew their lines at least.

You got home very late.

Must have been midnight.

Well, I stayed out for a drink.

With the kids?

With the teachers.

I tried not to wake you.

You didn't.

Susan, there-- there's something I haven't told you.

Oh, God, you're going back to your wife.

(chuckles) No, she wouldn't have me.

She adores you.

Only because we're divorced.

Oh... Well, go on.

I'm thinking of leaving the school at the end of the term.

Oh... why?

Because I'm wasting my time.

Half the kids there don't want to learn, and the other three are going to turn into bankers or lawyers.

You should move into the state sector.

Ancient Greek?

Oh, yeah.

(chuckles) Wow!

What else can you do?

Well, the thing is that my cousin, Yannis, has been offered a hotel in Crete, Near Agios Nikolaos, huh?

And he wants me to go in with him to buy it and run it.

In Crete?

We're just talking, but it's an opportunity.

For me and for you.

You want me to go with you?

I wouldn't go without you.

You haven't talked to me about this before.

I was going to mention it earlier, but I couldn't.

Why not?

Well, obviously with this buyout, you becoming C.E.O.

and everything... No, but I haven't even made my mind up about that yet!

Exactly.

I'm waiting for you to say no.

No, Andreas!

Even if I don't take this promotion, I'm still going to stay in publishing.

It's all I've ever known.

I mean what the... What am I going to do in Greece, hm?

I'm not Shirley Valentine.

I just thought we could talk about it.

We are talking about it.

No.

(geese honking) RADIO ANNOUNCER: And the latest traffic news for London on this sunny Monday morning... SUSAN: When's your first lesson?

Not until ten, but I need to be there for assembly.

(car horns honking) We'll make it.

(horns honking, siren blaring in distance) I'm-I'm sorry-- I'm sorry.

No, I...

I shouldn't have just sprang it on you.

Not when you've got so much on your mind.

I'm just a bit surprised, that's all.

If you're not happy, Andreas...

I am happy with you.

Yes, but I'm here, in London.

You know, it's my work, it's my home.

God, this traffic!

(car horn honking) Look, I'm not making any decisions, I promise.

I just want to talk.

You should've mentioned it earlier.

(sighs) You free tonight?

Yes.

Let's go and have dinner, somewhere, you know, quiet.

Not Greek food.

(chuckles) I'd like that.

(groans) I'll get out here.

Oh.

I'll get there faster by tube.

I hope you find your chapter.

See you tonight.

Yeah.

(car horns honking) ♪ ♪ (sighs) ♪ ♪ ALICE Hey, Susan.

Hi, Alice.

Good weekend?

Yes, thanks.

Uh, this manuscript that Charles gave me, "Magpie Murders," did you do the photocopying?

No, it was Jemima.

Where is she?

I haven't seen her.

I think she might have left out the last chapter.

Oh, do you want me to chase it?

Yes, could you, please?

Is Charles in?

Uh, he's in his office.

Great.

(knocking on door) Charles, I can't believe you did this to me.

You gave me a book without the last chap...

I know, uh, um, sit down, please.

Do you have it?

Please, Susan, sit down.

I've something terrible to tell you.

What?

Alan's dead.

Dead?

I read the book over the weekend.

Like you, I got to the last chapter.

It wasn't there so I tried to ring Alan to see what had happened.

I must've rung him half a dozen times on the Saturday and the Sunday.

And then last night I got a call at home.

Who called you?

His solicitor, a man called Sajid Khan.

He found him.

(exhales) God, that's awful.

Charles, I'm so sorry.

What happened?

Well, it looks as if Alan fell off that bloody tower of his.

He fell?

Well, that's what he said on the phone.

Look, I, I'm afraid it's rather worse than that.

I was going through my mail this morning and I, I got this.

It's from Alan.

It's a suicide note.

(stammering) Why would Alan want to commit suicide?

He was successful, he had a partner.

Well, maybe I had a part in it.

I had dinner with him on Thursday night while you were in Frankfurt-- well, I, I, I told you.

It wasn't exactly the cheeriest evening, but... maybe I should've reached out.

If he had this on his mind... "I'm very sorry, but I wasn't on my best form at dinner last night."

He's apologizing to you.

That makes me feel worse.

"By the time you read this, it will all be finished."

"I have achieved great success in a life that has gone on long enough."

He had cancer.

If I'd known that perhaps I might have been a little more, I don't know... forgiving.

(breathing shakily) Is that why Alan decided to kill off Atticus Pünd?

He had cancer, so he wanted to take his beloved detective with him.

I have no idea.

He didn't say anything, he seemed absolutely fine when I saw him.

(sighs) Um...

I'm gonna talk to Jemima.

Why?

She photocopied the manuscript.

Well, I checked the page count on the photocopier.

332 pages.

It matches what we were given.

So, then... Alan didn't give us the whole novel.

(strained exhalation) (sighs) I don't believe this.

I don't believe any of it.

First of all...

I'm sorry.

I never got on with him, I admit that, but you've lost a friend.

It's more than that.

I know.

Our number one bestselling author.

What are Cityworld Media going to say?

Well, they won't be very happy.

But the valuation was based on the backlist.

Eight books plus one new one.

Yes, but the new one is missing the last chapter.

A whodunit without the solution.

It's not even worth the paper it won't be printed on.

(sighs) So, what happens now?

The Suffolk police are on their way.

Here?

♪ ♪ SUSAN (voiceover): It's just so weird.

"I have left you some notes "with regard to my condition and the decision I have made."

Does that even sound like him?

Alan clearly wasn't himself.

Yes, but suicidal?

Possibly, you know how he was.

Always good at hiding his emotions.

He doesn't say the cancer was terminal.

He could have got treatment.

Perhaps he didn't want to go through with any of that.

But he had dinner with you.

Why not just tell you to your face?

(knocking) (door opens) Detective Superintendent Locke is here.

I've put him in the conference room.

CHARLES: Thank you, Alice.

LOCKE: When did you receive this?

CHARLES: It came in the post this morning.

And you last saw Mr. Conway on Thursday night.

Yes, he stayed over in London.

He had a flat.

Well, thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Clover.

Of course, it puts a different complexion on things.

You assumed it was an accident?

That's right.

Dark night, low parapet.

I'm surprised he hadn't had a handrail installed.

Was his death instantaneous?

I'm afraid not.

No, according to the police doctor, he may have lain there for some time.

Had he been drinking?

No.

Then he knew exactly what he was doing, and I have to wonder why he would do it like that?

I mean, is that how you'd do it?

Jump off a tower on a Saturday night and lie there on the grass with half your bones broken?

Why not take sleeping pills or hang yourself?

Have you had experience of suicides?

No.

And perhaps you can tell me.

Is this his handwriting?

Suppose somebody made him write it?

And why would they do that?

It doesn't sound like him.

Susan.

(laughs) Oh, Miss Ryeland.

I prefer Susan.

When people become suicidal, they don't always think things through.

They're not themselves.

At a basic level, their state of mind is not normal.

There's no mystery here.

Mr. Conway had terminal cancer.

How well did you know him?

We didn't get on.

Why doesn't that surprise me?

Thank you for contacting me.

You've been, uh... very helpful.

The letter's handwritten, but the envelope is typed.

Thanking you.

(sighs) CHARLES: I don't know why you had to get at him like that.

I didn't get at him.

You weren't very polite.

Oh.

Listen, Charles.

I don't really care how Alan died.

I'm sorry.

But right now I think we should be concentrating on what happened to the missing chapter.

How do we even know he wrote it?

Well, we, we don't, but we need to find out.

You want me to take over after the buyout, but you know as well as I do that if we don't have this book, the investors could pull out and the whole company could just...

Fold.

Exactly the right word for publishers going out of business.

So, what are you gonna do?

I'm gonna go to Suffolk and look for the missing pages.

Alan gave you the manuscript on Thursday night.

Yes.

But he always used a pen for the first draft.

So?

So, there'll be a handwritten draft, first draft, second draft, notes, other copies.

There's got to be something.

Where will you stay?

Oh, I've got my sister in Woodbridge.

She can put me up.

All right, take care.

Eh, let me know how you get on.

Yeah.

I can't believe I finally get to see his house.

Just had to wait until he was dead.

Hi, Andreas, it's me, um, listen, I'm really sorry.

Something terrible has happened at work.

Don't worry, I'm, I'm okay.

I just haven't got time to explain now.

I've got to go to Suffolk to find this missing chapter.

SUSAN (on phone): Look, you're not really going to Crete, are you?

At least give me a day or two till I get back and we can talk about it then.

Missing you already, love you.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (click) ♪ ♪ (gasps) Sir Magnus knew his killer.

KHAN: He had decided to make a new will.

JAMES: I get everything.

You never mentioned that in London.

You stay out of my way.

JAMES: If someone really did push him off that tower, there'd have been plenty of volunteers.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ANNOUNCER: Go to our website, listen to our podcast, watch video, and more.

To order this program, visit ShopPBS.

"Masterpiece" is available with PBS Passport and on Amazon Prime Video.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ANTHONY HOROWITZ: I've been writing murder mystery for a very long time.

People say, actually, I've probably committed more murders in fiction than anybody you will ever meet.

I began with Agatha Christie and "Poirot."

Then from there I moved on to "Midsomer Murders," a series which has run for many, many years.

Then I gave up 16 years of my life for "Foyle's War," a series set during the Second World War.

And all the time I was asking myself, what can I do with murder mystery that is different, that hasn't been done before?

And that's what you get with "Magpie Murders."

It's not one story, it's two.

It is a murder mystery inside a murder mystery, one of which is set in the golden age of detective fiction, the 1950s, and the other is set in the modern world.

And I think the fun of the show, as you will see as it continues, is the way these two worlds collide, interact, and entwine with each other.

So not only do you get the whodunit, you see something of the structuring of it, as it were, the scaffolding, the engineering of it.

SUSAN: I'm going to go to Suffolk and look for the missing pages.

HOROWITZ: In the book there are two very distinct worlds.

It starts with, I think, something like 300 pages set in the 1950s, an old world of a golden age classic crime story.

Then, in the second half of the book, Susan Ryeland appears as the editor of the book.

She reads the manuscript and she begins to work out for herself who the killer might be.

Now that didn't work in the adaptation.

You couldn't have half the story set in the '50s and then half the story set now because you'd get confused and because it would mean we wouldn't meet Lesley Manville, who plays Susan, until the second half.

So, in adapting it, what I had to do was to merge them together.

(keys clacking) Normally in a detective show, you rely on what is called the reliable narrator, who is a detective, and his sidekick, who take you through the action.

But in this case, you've got two parallel paths of action and two narrators.

You've got Susan Ryeland in the modern world, and Atticus Pünd with Fraser, his assistant, in the 1950s world.

It was a question of how do you keep both narrative lines separate from each other and understandable?

And that took a lot of thinking and a lot of time.

And I hope at the end of episode one, you are with me and on this journey because we have five more to go before we get to the end.

Don't tell me.

You know who did it!

HOROWITZ: Creating Pünd was a challenge because there are so many wonderful detectives who have created this sort of template-- Sherlock Holmes, Lord Peter Wimsey, many, many others.

And I had to try and find a way to make him stand on his own two feet.

And I think giving him that Second World War background and his intimate knowledge of evil, which sort of guides him, makes him both real, and, I hope, sympathetic, too.

I wonder if we might have a word.

HOROWITZ: In golden age fiction, the detective is always some sort of outsider.

And the important thing is, is that when he goes into a community like Saxby-on-Avon, he knows nobody.

This is a village where everybody is connected to everyone else.

That's how murder mysteries work.

Everybody thinks they know everybody else's secrets.

The role of a detective is to come into that community, to peel back the curtains, to discover the secrets, and somehow to get to the solution of the crime.

A whodunit without the solution.

It's not even worth the paper it won't be printed on.

HOROWITZ: I did love writing the character of Susan Ryeland.

What I think I like best about her, she's not a detective.

I mean, she's not worried about where fingerprints came from or who was where at what time of the night.

You know, she's, she's actually got a real life of her own.

In fact, she's come to a major crossroads.

Is she going to take on the job of being C.E.O.

of a company?

Or is she going to go off to Crete with her boyfriend who has suddenly announced that he wants to take over a hotel?

And on top of all that, she's trying to solve a, a murder mystery.

And I think it's just a fascinating mix, which Lesley Manville does so brilliantly.

You knew all along, didn't you?

PÜND: In the investigation of a crime, it is often the connections we cannot see that lead us to the truth.

HOROWITZ: I love the whole art of creating a murder mystery.

I love laying the foundations, the clues, the red herrings, the suspects, the twists, the turns, the surprises at the end.

(Pye gasps) HOROWITZ: It is my favorite genre simply because if two people meet, and one murders the other, you're not dealing with superficial or light emotions, you're dealing with passion, with anger, with fear, with jealousy, with rage.

Everything is amplified in the world of murder mystery.

You get straight into the character of people because actually, murder mystery is not about murder.

It is about the reasons, the motivation for doing the murder.

And to me, that is a very fast way to get interested in different people.

♪ ♪