Alexa Carlisle (Dartmoor)
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To the family
Gregory: Somebody should document this historic moment. Mother apologising for a major cock up? A new first, I believe!
Alexa: In my own time, Gregory. I’ll wait ‘till everyone is here.
Right, let’s get started. I want to keep this short. I know you have a lot of questions, some I will answer now, the rest will have to wait. First, Zachary’s sudden death is a great tragedy, but also a great inconvenience as it happened just now. I am dealing with the situation in a discreet and efficient way and I expect your cooperation in all related matters. Secondly, the arranged funeral event tomorrow will take place as planned. No one can know that I am still alive. I expect you all to act your part. Last, as you all know, I have a lot on my plate and need to focus on sorting everything out so please do not disturb me with your petty concerns. You are all adults and as part of the elite, you will eventually have to deal with difficult situations like this. It comes late for most of you, but this is a chance to show what you’re made of. That will be all.
The photograph
Alexa: I expect you to be quick about the shoot. I have a lot to do today.
Photographer: Everything is set up and ready to go. I guarantee, you’ll be happy with the result.
I expect you to be efficient. I have a lot to see to today.
Let’s wait for everyone to show up…
Is showing up too much to ask? I’m not waiting much longer.
Listen everyone. I understand that you have a lot of questions. Please be patient for a little longer, I will address you in the sitting room afterwards. Right, get into position. Let’s get this over with.
Gregory: Chin up, Edward. No one wants to look at that long face.
Rebecca: You’re such an idiot, Gregory.
Edward: I’m fine, Rebecca.
Gregory: Fine? You look like a nervous wreck.
Alexa: Stop bickering. For Christ’s sake…
Gregory: Well, Mother, you certainly know how to lighten the mood. Could we have one more? We’re having such a jolly good time, aren’t we?
That will be enough. No need to spend the entire day here. Please, everybody, go to the sitting room. I need to speak to you all.
I want to stress that I expect absolute discretion about everything you’ve witnessed today.
Just take the picture, we don’t have all day.
To Zachary Carlisle
Oh, Zachary. At least you never got to learn that the horrible thing we did was for nothing. To protect the Carlisle legacy, what bollocks. It’s all gone, I fear. That bloody Arthur Edwards, how did I not see it? Hah! I doubt our big brother could have botched it any worse than I have even if he tried!
My dear brother, finally in peace. How I regret the pact we made. How I wish I had acted on my own. The guilt over the life we took is what presses me forward. Always makes me want to make it worth the horrible sacrifice. But for you, it weighed you down, pulled you under. Never to resurface.
How did it come to this, Zachary? Did you really do it? But why now? What we did broke you nearly fifty years ago. No, I refuse to believe it.
What happened to you? I cannot believe you did this yourself.
I should have told you I was sorry. And now it’s too late.
Why now, Zachary? How could you leave me now?
To Rebecca Carlisle
Rebecca: Mother, I want to know what is going on.
Alexa: Not now, Rebecca. I thought I made that clear.
Rebecca: Yes, now! Something’s really wrong. I started digging and I can see that a lot of our mandates are void. Financial decisions revoked and a freeze on the-
Alexa: Rebecca!
Rebecca: -and then you give me that token for the vault in London. But only one of two. You need to explain.
Alexa: The token for the bank vault is just a contingency measure, I doubt you’ll need it.
Rebecca: Christ, Mother, that’s exactly what I mean. Could you be more cryptic?
Alexa: I am working very hard to figure everything out. I need you to back off and trust that I am in control. I have contingency plans and will make sure that you get information, useful factual information, when I have it. But for now, I need time to focus.
Rebecca: Business as usual then. You are cold, Mother. And alone. By choice.
With Gregory Carlisle
Gregory: Ah, my perfect Mother! Hah. Who would have thought? You fucked up, didn’t you? Staging your own death. A major grandiose cock up, I’d say.
Alexa: Be quiet, Gregory.
Gregory: Shows you’re only human, after all. I never would have guessed.
To Mr. Fernsby
Fernsby: I received the vault token for the Milton-Fitzpatrick London bank. Did I understand correctly that I should give it to Rebecca in case of your death?
Carlisle: Exactly. She holds the other one. I want her to have the file on Arthur Edwards if I die.
Fernsby: You’re not fearful she’ll be in trouble if she knows?
Carlisle: She will start digging when she realises things don’t add up. Inevitably getting her in trouble. I’d rather she knew who she’s up against, she’s clever and resourceful. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be able to hit him where it hurts. But I don’t want her to get involved prematurely. Hopefully, she’ll never have to get involved at all.
Carlisle: What is it, Fernsby?
Fernsby: Mr. Edward is not coping too well with the situation, I’m afraid.
Carlisle: He is a useless wimp. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.
Fernsby: If I may say so, these are challenging circumstances for everyone. Seems to be his role in the staged funeral event tomorrow that weighs on him.
Carlisle: Christ! If he’d just grow a pair…
Fernsby: I believe he is calling his ex-wife again. It could end with legal consequences. The harassment charges from last time led to that restraining order.
Carlisle: Should I talk to him?
Fernsby: Maybe it’s better if I have a word with him, if I may, madam.
Carlisle: Yes, you may be right. Thank you, Fernsby.
Carlisle: All well downstairs? How’s Gregory handling the situation? Causing trouble or too lazy to give a damn?
Fernsby: No, madam. He… he seems to be amused by the whole debacle.
Carlisle: He may be lazy but he’s not dumb. Having a laugh might well be the best way to handle it all.
Fernsby: Would you like to see him?
Carlisle: No. I need to address them all. I just have a few more things to get in order first. So for now, let him laugh. Soon there’ll be nothing for him to laugh about. He may have to get off his arse and do some honest work.
Carlisle: Anything to report?
Fernsby: Everything is as expected.
Carlisle: Any updates, Fernsby?
Fernsby: Nothing to report.
Carlisle: Fernsby, everything in order?
Fernsby: Nothing new, madam.
To Phineas Whitmer
Carlisle: Mr. Whitmer, thank you for coming on such short notice. A great tragedy has fallen upon us and I need a quick resolution handled with absolute discretion.
Whitmer: I have yet to see a mystery I haven’t solved, and I don’t give a toss about my fame if that’s what you’re worried about. My lips are sealed.
Carlisle: Very well. I suppose you will want to start at the crime scene.
Whitmer: You assume too much, Madam Carlisle. The crime scene, if such exists, is never where I begin.
Carlisle: Do as you wish. However, I expect a result in a timely fashion. Fernsby will take over from here.
To Aron Ford Jr.
Carlisle: Well?
Ford: Well?
Carlisle: Well… what did you find?
Ford: Uh…
Carlisle: Yates better well have a damned good reason for not being here in person, Christ! You really don’t have a clue, do you? I’m talking about that weasel Arthur Edwards. Can we get back what he stole from me?
Ford: So far it… looks like we can’t. All the transfers of funds and privileges I’ve been through have been bullet proof. He intercepted the arrangements our office worked years to put in place.
Carlisle: That’s why Don Yates should be here. He made the arrangements, he should bloody well be the one to clean up this whole mess.
Ford: I… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry?
Carlisle: Don’t kill the messenger, Alexa… Please, continue your efforts, Mr. Ford.
Carlisle: Mr. Ford.
Ford: Mrs. Carlisle, I… well… I…
Carlisle: For heaven’s sake, just say it.
Ford: I looked into the Tokyo holdings, and my preliminary assessment is that they… they are gone.
Carlisle: I don’t need assessments, I need absolute confirmation. That is why you are here.
Ford: I did request the documentation but it will take a while considering the time difference.
Carlisle: You don’t request, you demand! How Yates could send me someone like you is beyond me.
Carlisle: Did you get confirmation from Tokyo?
Ford: I’m working on it, Madam Carlisle.
Carlisle: Any updates?
Ford: Sorry, no. Nothing yet.
Carlisle: Were you able to get the papers from the Sydney exchange?
Ford: No new updates. Sorry.
With Parsons
Carlisle: Mr. Parsons.
Parsons: Madam Carlisle. Before we start, I need to stress that I’m risking my name and reputation. If the truth gets out-
Carlisle: You’ll be generously compensated. And if you really care about name and reputation, I suggest you leave it at that. Now, let’s run through the event.
Carlisle: What’s this?
Parsons: I’ve created a memorial with a portrait of you as the central piece, as there, for obvious reasons, could be no viewing at the chapel of rest.
Carlisle: Well I hate it. Get rid of it before it tomorrow. And the flowers?
Parsons: Your son Gregory asked me to decide on the floral arrangements. I kept it all in white to signify eternity.
Carlisle: It’s my funeral, not a wedding.
Parsons: This is where Edward will read the eulogy.
Carlisle: Edward?
Parsons: Yes, I understand your son is a university professor. Eloquent and used to addressing a crowd.
Carlisle: Edward is a mumbling mess. He crumbles under the least amount of stress.
Parsons: But Gregory approved of the idea.
Carlisle: He was just relieved he wouldn’t have to do it himself. Rebecca would have been the better choice but too late to change it now.
Carlisle: And the gravestone? Your choice as well?
Parsons: Gregory told me to take the lead, yes.
Carlisle: Well, good choice, I like it.
Parsons: I tried to balance the monumental with the natural raw qualities of granite in the hope that-
Carlisle: Please be quiet.
Parsons: Right.
Carlisle: So to sum up, I expect you to remove my portrait from the memorial. That was an absolutely horrendous idea, very unfit for these historical surroundings. This is my ancestral burial ground, simple and clean is how we’ve always gone about it, and will be how we do it to this time as well. And regarding the eulogy, you could hardly be blamed for the mistake of asking Edward to perform the task. I will have words with Gregory about that. But as I said, it is too late to change that now. I do however suggest you make a contingency plan if he is unable to go through with it. He always was fragile. And the flowers. Maybe something natural, fitting the season and local fauna. That’s all, Mr. Parsons. I have other things to attend to.
With 47 (disguised as Ford):
Carlisle: What’s the verdict, Mr. Ford? Undoubtedly some of my assets must be safe.
47: No, everything’s gone.
Carlisle: Not Thornbridge Manor, surely.
47: That too.
Carlisle: But that’s not possible! I’ll kill him, I swear, if it’s the last thing I do… Thank you, Mr. Ford, that will be all.
With 47 (disguised as Whitmer)
So, Mr. Whitmer, you’ve reached a conclusion. Take a seat. Please go ahead.
47: The butler, Mr. Fernsby, killed Zachary.
Carlisle: Fernsby? Hah, you’ve got that wrong. He would never do such a thing, he is the most loyal man I’ve ever met.
47: I found pills in his office that matches the poison that killed your brother. Furthermore, I found Zachary’s notebook half burned in Mr. Fernsby’s fireplace. It showed that Zachary intended to publish a written confession to a murder the two of you committed nearly fifty years ago. The murder of your older brother Montgomery.
Carlisle: That’s outrageous. We did no such thing.
47: No need to feign innocence. I know a killer when I see one. And my discretion is assured. The papers also described how Mr. Fernsby helped you stage the murder of Montgomery as an accident. I believe he killed Zachary not to be exposed as an accomplice to murder.
Carlisle: Sweet Fernsby… Hm. You are wrong, Mr. Whitmer. He did not do it to protect himself. He did it to protect the Carlisle legacy. Mr. Fernsby, like myself, understands that sacrifices must be made to secure stability and prosperity. Mr. Whitmer, I’d appreciate it if your findings never leave this room. I understand Fernsby’s actions and there is no need for them to have more consequences than they already have. Fernsby was very fond of Zachary and I’m sure his decision will haunt him ‘till the day he dies. About your reward, have you considered an amount?
47: Your niece, Emma Carlisle, murdered your brother Zachary.
Carlisle: My niece?! Emma is not my niece, she’s my daughter-in-law.
47: And your niece. Emma is the illegitimate child of your late older child Montgomery who you and Zachary killed 46 years ago.
Carlisle: That’s preposterous!
47: You asked me to find out what happened to Zachary. Would you rather not know?
Carlisle: No… no, go on.
47: I found a letter from Emma’s mother Jane who was the fiancé of your older brother at the time of his death. She witnessed how you and Zachary pushed him off the balcony. She believed you did it to steal the Carlisle empire from her and her unborn child. She raised Emma to reclaim what she lost, marry your heir Gregory, get revenge and secure the Carlisle empire for her bloodline generations to come.
Carlisle: Emma is the daughter of Montgomery and that local girl Jane?
47: She is.
Carlisle: Well, the girl got it wrong. I didn’t steal anything. I did what was necessary to protect the future of the Carlisles. Montgomery wasn’t cut out to take out from Father. All heart and no balls.
47: Emma used the funeral gathering to speed up her instalment as the lady of the house, seizing the opportunity to stage Zachary’s suicide. She did her homework, used a poison made from one of Zachary’s rare plants, found old floor plans from Thornbridge Manor to gain access to his room through a secret passage.
Carlisle: That scheming bitch.
47: More than you think. I found proof that she will try to poison you next.
Carlisle: Well, I’ll have to take care of that. Thank you, Mr. Whitmer. You have not disappointed. I promised you I would reward you generously if you solved the case. So what do you suggest?
47: Your brother committed suicide.
Carlisle: I need to see some evidence to believe that, Mr. Whitmer.
47: Zachary was found dead in a room locked from the inside. He died from a rare poisonous plant he cultivated himself. He believed you were dead and a suicide note explained that he did not have the courage to go on without you.
Carlisle: That’s what I don’t buy. I cared for him deeply, but the truth is he hated my guts. My death would not make him commit suicide, I can promise you that.
47: Perhaps the death of your older brother Montgomery then? I have found evidence showing that you and Zachary killed him nearly fifty years ago. I believe that was when Zachary turned recluse. Your brother recently uncovered proof that your past deeds were for nothing. A letter from Montgomery stating that he wanted you, Madam Carlisle, to take over from your father instead of himself as you were better suited to the job. Everything would have turned out the way you wanted without anyone dying. What broke Zachary once now destroyed him.
Carlisle: And you saw this letter?
47: I did.
Carlisle: Oh Zachary… How royally I fucked up. Mr. Whitmer, I’m sorry, I-I-… I just need to gather my thoughts. Right. The payment for your services. Have you decided on an amount?
47: I want the file you have on Arthur Edwards.
Carlisle: Arthur Edwards… the Constant? But that must mean you’re-… I expected you to show up. But you’re not here to kill me. If you were, you would have already. The enemy of my enemy, I suppose. You can have it. You earned it. The file you want is in the safe. Good hunting. I need some privacy. Thank you.
47: I want the file you have on Arthur Edwards.
Carlisle: Edwards, the Constant? But how do you-… Oh, I see… I expected you might show up. But to kill me, not help me. But I’ve been wrong on so many things lately, so why not this one? I will give you the file on Edwards, you’ve earned it. I don’t suppose I could convince you to deal with my daughter-in-law now you’re here. I would like to see her dead. No? What a shame. I’ll have to see to it some other way then. The file you want is in the safe. God I hope you get Edwards and make him hurt. I need some privacy. Thank you.
47: Arthur Edwards. You have a file on him.
Carlisle: Arthur Edwards? How do you-… I see. Well played. For many many years, I feared what I’d see when I finally met death. And now you sit before me and… I feel only peace. You see, I believe life is a fair fight and I lost spectacularly in every way imaginable. It is time for me to leave the pit. Oh, before I get to that… your reward. The file you want is in the safe. A last wish from a dying woman? Get Edwards and make him suffer. So long. I need some privacy. Thank you.
47: I’ll send you an invoice.
Carlisle: Thank you, Mr. Whitmer. I trust you’ll see yourself out.
47: I’ll send you an invoice.
Carlisle: To be honest, I doubt you’ll see any money. You see, Mr. Whitmer, the irony is even deeper than you know. It’s all gone. Everything, I expect. I killed my older brother to protect the family legacy, drove my younger brother mad in the process, and now I’ve managed to lose everything to a fucking secretary. Would you believe it? The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I trust you’ll see yourself out. I need to excuse myself.
Please remain seated, Mr. Whitmer.
Mr. Whitmer, this is taking it beyond the limits of my patience. I have other things to see to. Please come and see me when you are ready.
Where are you going? Please sit down.
Right, where were we?
With 47 (disguised as Parsons)
Carlisle: Mr. Parsons, I don’t like to be kept waiting. I trust we can be efficient now I’m here.
47: I can be very efficient, madam Carlisle.
Carlisle: What’s that picture of me doing here? What an awful idea! I want it removed before the ceremony tomorrow. I must say I don’t care much for the choice of flowers either. I need a moment to consider what I want.
Carlisle: What’s that podium? I find that having family members doing the eulogy is more often than not a toad cringing affair. I never understood the need to publicly display grief. A person died. Most natural thing in the world. No need to make an emotional spectacle of it. I hope you haven’t planned for one of those.
Carlisle: And the gravestone. Granite, solid, no fuss. I like it. Well done, Mr. Parsons, I approve.
47: Yes, it will mark your grave beautifully.
Carlisle: So to sum up. I expect you to remove my portrait from the memorial. That was an absolutely horrendous idea, very unfit for these historical surroundings. This is my ancestral burial ground, simple and clean is how we’ve always gone about it, and how it will be this time as well. And the flowers. They look more fit for a wedding than my funeral. Maybe something natural, fitting the season and local fauna. Surely you’re capable of figuring something out that doesn’t look so misplaced. That’s all, Mr. Parsons. I have other things to attend to.
Calling Don Yates
Don Yates, Alexa Carlisle here. You need to explain yourself. I demand that you return my call ASAP. Sending a junior attorney is gross negligence of your responsibilities and will have consequences for your company and you personally as well. I will make sure of that, mark my words.
Alexa Carlisle again. Don, this is how the land lies. Your law firm is deeply involved in this farce and I demand that you personally take responsibility for your part. Get your arse overseas and help me straighten things out! That junior associate of yours in no way cuts it and you know it. The disrespect you show me will have grave consequences, I promise. So call me!
Damnit! Pick up the bloody phone!
Calling Arthur Edwards
Damn you, Edwards, answer your bloody phone, you coward! How dare you interfere with my life like this? You’re a nobody, a weasel, overreaching your competences. You are in way over your head. And I will make you pay. You can count on that.
Edwards, if you don’t get back to me immediately, I promise you I will have your head, I will skin it, boil it, clean it and soak it in enzyme bleach for three days, mount it and place it on the wall in the gardener’s shithouse! So you will get back to me.
Coward! Answer your phone!
I’d be scared too if I were you.
To the portraits
You faced great obstacles too, I know. We will persevere. It is my duty to make that happen.
If you only knew what we face… I wonder what you would do. Attack? Regroup? Close the gates and wait it out?
For centuries, the Carlisles have fought to prosper, all of us… alone. If we could only unite across time, we could crush them all.
In the panic room
You negligent shit! Spineless, despicable, nitwitted little man! How I would just… agh! Shit! Piss. Hypocrite.
How dare you? You blithering, disrespectful arse! Filthy slimy weasel. Slighting little shit! Ooze infested snake of a man! You make me vomit. If I could just…
Deceitful, disobedient bastard! Ill-bred maggot of spineless shit! You little backstabbing prick! How I’d like to… ugh… Goddamnit! Shit!
You flip state of sick. Ignorant imbecile invertebrate! Ignoring me? You skiving honourless shit! Traitor! Quack! Cheat! If I could get my hands on you, I’d squeeze the pitiful life out of you. I’d… I’d… Aah! You tiny little excuse of a man. Coward!
Right. Back to business.
Ah, that’s better. Now, back to work.
On with it, Alexa.
