Jean?
Jean?...What are you doing down there?
What are you up to? You're drenched.
Oh! Finishing the wine last night - that was a mistake.
A dry nightie, I think, and back to bed, eh? Come on.
Oh, all right. Two can play at that game.
Oh, come on, Jean...
Jean...
At last! Did you sleep well?
No. Got lonely. What happened to breakfest in bed?
Tea or coffee?
Coffee.
- How do you like your eggs? - Cooked.
Boiled. Three minutes. It'll give you time to get dressed.
Do you treat all your house guests like this?
Here we are.
Well, it might not be what you're used to, but the service isn't that bad.
Two friends of mine have died.
How?
It's not very clear from this.
Bob and Jean MacKenzie.
They ran an outfit rather like the Findhorn community.
Improving plant growth by human contact.
Close friends?
They were the kind of people you took to immediately.
And they liked me.
Was this the island just off the west coast?
Yeah, Elgis.
It was when I started writing articles for the Sundays:
a five-page spread entitled Talk To Plants And They'll Answer In Kind.
Yes, I remember reading them. They had enormous success.
Phenomenal. From the humble spud to the more exotic species of orchid -
you name it, they could grow it.
Tell me about them.
It was just loving care, I suppose, coupled with properties in the soul.
No. The MacKenzies - what of them?
Oh, well, Bob was very easy-going.
Made me feel very welcome.
Very proud of what he'd achieved.
Jean was a bit suspicious at first.
Thought I'd come to scoff and be smart at their expense.
But when she trusted me, it was as if I'd known them all my life.
I suppose I envied them their... their health.
Their opennes, in a way.
But it was too good to last.
What happened?
Inevitably the crank element moved in.
Most of the original members moved out.
Bob and Jean tried to keep it going, but it ended
up as a sort of hotel sanctuary for the nutters.
That's a pity.
Last I heard, he planned to sell out.
Some big concern was interested in taking the things off his hands
turning it into a profit-making business.
Keeping Bob on as a sort of manager.
Was he interested in that?
Well, he saw it as like a sort of...
a way of protecting his dream project, his achievement.
Yeah, he was interested.
And now he's dead.
You can't be serious, Tom.
All I'm saying is, there's a rather uninformative news item
on the death of two people who could command
five pages when they were alive.
They were friends. I want to know more.
You told me you last saw these friends three years ago, and that fleetingly.
Long enough to write articles about their work.
Yes. Sort of Findhorn, wasn't it? Talking to the plants.
With enormous success.
Yes, I know considerable work has and is being done, scientifically and psychically,
into the mysteries of plant life.
I favour the former, and remain totally unconvinced, as yet
as to the findings and results of the latter.
You surprise me.
However, I concede the success the MacKenzies achieved.
But how much of the success was due the favourable properties in the soil?
That was investigated at the time.
Tom, your friends recognized that the community could not go on as conceived.
They sold out, wisely, to this Swiss concern.
- Who? - Oh, Swiss... Scott.
They've the advantages of modern technology. They can bring employment to the area.
And they were quick to flush out the undesirable element that had sprung up in the community.
- Strong, you say? - Mm,
What you have there now is restoration and a flourishing concern.
It's also private property.
Did I say I wanted to go anywhere near it?
No, but you did say you wanted to see what happened to your friends.
The lady drowned.
- How do you know? - I believe everything I read in the papers.
It didn't say drowned.
She wasn't going for a paddle when they found her.
Perhaps I read another report
And what did your report say about Bob's death?
Perhaps you could hazard a guess.
Well, I did assume natural causes.
- I'll be leaving for the island tomorrow. - No.
What?
One: I need you here.
Two: Scott-Erskine has warned you about rushing in where wise men fear to tread.
One: I'm due to a well-earned rest, and two: the department can like it or... the other thing.
But so as not to upset too many people, I'll take it at may expense.
- I said no! - You've just decided me.
- Evening. - Evening.
Your best malt, please.
You're new here, aren't you?
Well, it depends what you mean.
Well, the hotel - it's under new management.
Aye, about a year ago. Have you stayed here, before, then?
Not at the hotel. I was part of the Blairvechan community for a few weeks.
- Hi. - Hello darling.
- Evening, Miss Ashley. - Evening, Bill.
Tequila and lime juice, please.
Lots of ice and lemon.
Oh, I thought Kellerman would never let me go.
Three cheers for Kellerman. I can sympathize!
Shall we sit down?
- Keep it, Bill. - Oh, cheers.
Nice.
Aye, but spoken for. Look, but don't touch.
- Are they staying at the hotel? - Oh, aye.
Two whiskies, please, Bill.
- Mr Crane? - That's right.
Dan! Dan Cameron!
- You've hardly changed. - Let me get you a drink.
No, no, this Norrie's round. That's a malt?
- Only the best. - One more?
So, what brings you to Blairvechan this time? Still writing?
Just visiting old haunts now.
Course, I heard about Bob and Jean.
Yes, hard to believe, to accept.
- It was very sudden. - Yes.
- One malt. - Cheers.
So, what happened?
Well, it was in the papers.
There must have been more. You knew them well, didn't you?
Yes, in the beginning, but...
- They tended to keep to themselves latterly. - So, you don't know what happened?
Evening, Mr Hobb. You met Mr Crane?
- No, not officially. Graham Hobb. - Tom Crane.
- Care to join us? - We're just off. Thanks, all the same.
- Tom? - Oh, thanks.
Go on across. I'll be with you in a moment.
Bill, can I have...
- We'll see you again. - Count on it.
Hello. Tom Crane.
Sarah Ashley.
You have a very disconcerting gaze, Mr Crane!
Tom.
At its worst, appraising, I'd say.
Oh, sorry. I was trying for appreciative.
There's something direct about your own look.
- Really? - Mm. Acquisitive, I'd say, at its worst.
Sorry. I was intrigued.
No. That's an exaggeration.
Curious - it's better. I was wondering what brought you to Elgis.
Tom's here on holiday.
- That's not entirely true. - I'm sorry...
- I'm a journalist. - Ah...
A few years back I wrote a series of articles on the Blairvechan community.
Now I'm back to gather material on the new complex.
The change from the simple, if cranky, life to a big business concern.
You didn't believe in the psychic element in the community's history?
- Well, I believe they believed. - Yes...
It was very sad about Bob and Jean.
Very.
We met the MacKenzies many times. Socially, as well as for business meetings.
You see, we work for Swiss Scott. Controllers of different departments.
You knew Bob stayed with us?
Yes.
I wondered. Could you arrange a meeting with your resident director?
I'm surprised your paper didn't arrange that.
I told you - I'm a freelance. It's all my own idea.
And if I get some interesting material, I can sell it to several outlets.
Leave it to us. I'm sure Kellerman will be only too happy.
Darling...
Shall we go in to dinner, before it's too late?
Right. Have you eaten, Tom?
Yes, thanks, earlier.
I thought I'd take a stroll, look around.
- You'll excuse us, then? - See you later, perhaps.
I hope so.
I'm sorry. I did everything I could to prevent it.
Crane has a mind of his own.
Well, he's there now.
No. I don't think that'll be necessary.
Well, you did ask for my opinion.
I'm sorry.
Yes. Yes.
Well, what do you suggest?
Well, I could ask her, I suppose, but she'd be quite within her rights to refuse.
I mean, on what authority can I say?
I'm sorry. I don't see that we should involve her in...
I've just dialled Dr Reynolds' number. There's no reply
Do you know if she's still in the building?
She is? Good. Where?
I'm not interested in what department she's left!
If she's still in the building, and you say she is, just tell her I want to talk to her. At once!
What do you mean, who's calling, you stupid...?
Martindale! Dr Roy Martindale!
Tom?
You haven't been down to breakfest. Are you all right?
Tom?
Still recognisable, at least.
What happened?
I went to look over the MacKanzies' farmhouse.
Went to explore the cellar, but it doesn't have a ladder.
And fell?
Yeah, I never mastered levitation.
Oh, I don't like the look of that.
You ought to see a doctor.
I plan to.
Good. See you downstairs in a minute.
Morning, Bill.
Here he comes, bloody but unbowed.
- This is Sergeant Paterson, Tom. - Good morning.
I've been telling him all about your misadventures.
You must excuse me now. I'm late already. Bye.
Well, sir, I hear you're in a sorry state.
- Oh, I've been in worse. - Well, no need to tempt the fates.
Would it not have been wise to postpone our visit to the farmhouse until you had company?
- I think I did have. - Really, Sir?
Uninvited, but effective.
So, you entered a private property and took a bad fall. What did you expect to find, Mr Crane?
I didn't expect to find an open trapdoor, for a start.
Well, you should have waited until this morning. What was the hurry?
Sergeant, two of my friends died suddenly. You must understand that..
And you must understand, sir, our concern regarding the contents of the house.
You see, we are still trying to trace relatives.
Well, Jean has a brother in Canada, I believe.
And Bob has no-one. His parents are dead.
Aye, we did know that.
The papers said Jean drowned.
No mention of Bob, other than the fact that he was found dead.
From stab wounds.
And they said foul play was not suspected?
We only release the information we had at the time. The rest came with the fiscal's report.
And who killed him?
His wife.
Finger, hand prints in the knife. The kitchen door... There was a lot of blood.
She just up and stabbed him?
Jean MacKenzie had a history of mental illness. Breakdowns.
That's nonsense. Jean was one of the sanest women I've ever met.
Well, that's the tragedy of these cases. There is no warning.
But they adored each other.
I've told you everything I can, Mr Crane.
You've been extremel forthcoming, Sergeant.
Alarmingly so.
Well, there are no broken bones, but you're going to be stiff for a couple of days
over the back of your neck, your left shoulder and chest.
Abrasions, left knee, and a bad bruise on the thigh.
You were lucky.
That's the sort of luck I have, yes.
I mean it might have been worse.
Now, this prescription's for an ointment and some painkillers.
Take the latter four times a day.
Thanks for not asking what I was doing out there.
It's not my business.
Did you know them, the MacKenzies?
- I knew them. - As patients?
I'm the only doctor around here.
Yeah, it's a fairly isolated spot.
Do many of your patients have breakdowns? Mental problems?
Are you thinking of setting up practice, Mr Crane?
I was concerned to learn of Jean's condition.
I don't think I understand.
I suppose I can take Sgt Paterson's word as gospel?
I'm not at liberty to discuss my patient's condition.
But is it true she drowned? You can tell me that much.
She was found in the harbour. She'd been in the water for a number of hours.
Did you hold an autopsy?
Please! You must understand that you are questioning me on a police matter!
- But from the way Paterson was... - You must ask him your questions.
I... I can't say any more.
What did the good doctor give you?
Hm. Wintergreen base.
Sit down.
Tell me if I hurt.
You tell me if you hurt.
Fool!
What are you going to do now?
What, right now? This minute?
Now that your mind is at rest.
Did I say that?
You're looking happier.
I'd still like to see over the unit.
You'll see all you want,
but... Kellerman might want to vet your work.
Has he got something to hide?
Haven't we all?
Good morning.
Oh, hello. My name is Anne Reynolds. You have a room for me.
Yes, indeed. I do hope you'll enjoy your stay with us.
Er... do you know erm... Do you have a Mr Crane staying here? Tom Crane.
Oh, you have just missed him. I believe he's gone to the garden unit with Miss Ashley.
- Oh, has he? - There's Mr Hobb, perhaps he could help.
Mr Hobb, this is Miss Reynolds.
- Hello. - How do you do?
She's a friend of Mr Crane's. I was saying I thought he'd gone to the unit with Miss Ashley.
- Oh, it is't that important. - I'll get Teddy to see your luggage.
I'm going upstairs. I'll carry Miss Reynolds' luggage.
Thank you. I hope you'll both manage to our at-home night tonight.
8:30, mind.
What's that?
It's a once-a-month get-together of the locals. A little singing, dancing, talent-spotting.
Think you can take it?
I might try, and if Tom's free.
Of course... Are you a journalist?
Journalist? God heavens, no. I'm a physicist. Whatever gave you that idea?
I thought you and Tom are colleagues.
Oh, yes, we are... Is this the way?
- Mm, yeah. After you. - Thank you.
These gadgets can record the emotional life-reactions of the plants.
Are they wired up now?
Tear a leaf from this - you'll soon see.
No, I'll let them be.
Oh, they'll like you.
You don't believe me, do you?
The equipment could be picking up my emotions.
If I threatened the life one of them, that could create an electrical reaction.
It's screened against human impulses.
Wire you to it and it might blow a fuse.
That's very delicate equipment.
What kind of music do they like? Jazz? Punk rock? Beethoven?
Well, this lot are a bit indiscriminate... in spite of their beauty.
I er... might be able to let you see the new units, at a later date.
What's there?
We're growing wheat and rye in an indoor situation.
We've advanced on experiments started by Bob MacKenzie.
Small-scale stuff then.
And now we've substituted electrical impulses for telepathic vibrations.
Can't we go there now?
Let me see Kellerman first.
Well, I'm going to have to leave now. It's back to the grindstone.
That's a pity. I've enjoyed the tour.
I hope it's been of some use.
I'd still like to meet Kellerman.
I'll see what can I do!
You'll be in the bar this evening?
Oh, for the at-home? Try and keep me away.
Martindale.
Tom! It's about time you called. Where are you now?
Anne! What are you doing here?
I've come to drag you back to the realities of the big city.
- Roy sent you? - Mm.
- What's the matter? What's he afraid of? - You getting into trouble.
I've already, but I don't know how he foresaw that. What reason did he give you?
- I didn't need much persuading. - I'm glad to hear it.
So, why don't you show me around, while it's still light? Hm?
Sorry to... turn up like this, unannounced.
Er... I've got a friend waiting downstairs.
You er...
You asked me about the autopsy...
on Jean MacKenzie.
Is this your tipple?
Very gracious of you.
Where do you keep your clothes?
I hope a tumbler won't shock your sensibilities.
Sorry. I didn't know you had company.
Only Dr Nelson.
Is he going to live?
There's no reason why he shouldn't.
If he's careful.
Look, I'm sorry. I'll have to break up this party. I'm late.
- Someone's waiting for you? - A friend.
Is she the colleague Graham met this morning? The physicist?
That'll be right.
I didn't think he could have got it wrong. Colleagues?
Thanks for the drink, Crane.
- See you downstairs? - Yes.
You shouldn't encourage that.
I felt he really needed it. I didn't know it was a problem.
He can be a bit of gossip when he gets like that.
I wouldn't pay too much attention to him.
- Join us? - I won't be intruding?
Not, if you don't put your mind to it.
See you.
Sorry. What can I say?
Just tell me I look nice and the price tag isn't showing!
Well, you look wonderful. They can't take their eyes off you.
Thank you.
Why am I to blame?
I'll get some drinks.
Sorry about the interruption. Can we talk later?
- Well? - Stella By Starlight.
Ah, but what's the movie?
Oh, er...
The Uninvited, with...
Gail Russell, Ray Milland, and...
Don' tell me, don't tell me.
- Ruth Hussey. - Yes!
Tom...
I don't mind being looked at, but er... am I being mentally undressed?
- Where? - Other side of the room.
Thank you. We'll have a little break now, before we hear from the youth of the community -
Terry and the Pirates.
Forget it. He's gone now.
Who was that sad man you were talking to at the bar?
His name is Nelson. He's a doctor.
Drowning his problems?
You're the second person to tell me he has problems.
Oh?
Anne, I'm onto something.
I don't know what it is, but Nelson does, I believe.
I can't come back right away.
I know you are here to reason with me, but I'm not being unreasonable.
- Will you tell me? - I wish I could.
I wish I knew what there was to tell.
Who else told you Nelson had problems?
Sarah Ashley. She works at the complex. You'll meet her tonight.
Do you like her?
I don't know.
I don't want her to learn too much. She's gathered from a friend that we work together.
I've told them I'm writing articles...
Doing research. Can you improvise?
Norrie, hello.
- I'm keeping an eye on him. - Norrie?
- Where is he? - With them.
Get him away.
Come on, Norrie. You've had too much, haven't you?
Is he all right?
- Good God. Look at them. - Stop worrying. Nelson's here.
- Well, that's all the more cause, isn't it? - Oh, you make me sick.
Only since the stud came along.
Look at her.
Play it my way. I won't mind.
Come on.
Hello. I'm Sarah Ashley. This is Graham Hobb.
- Join us, please. - Thank you.
Let me introduce Anne Reynolds.
- Oh, we've met. - Well, drinks?
No, no. Let me. Anne?
Oh, all right. A malt, please.
- Usual poison, love? - With lots of lemon, if you can manage.
Graham tells me you're something in physics.
What do you do, exactly?
Oh, it's a government post.
And you? Tom did mention something. You're a gardener. Or have I got it wrong?
Botanist.
I head the Department for the Study of External and Psychic Stimulation of Exotic Flora.
Do you shorten that to something funny, like SEPTIC?
Psycho-physiology. Tom must bring you round.
There are some fascinating Venus flytraps you might find interesting.
So... you two work together?
Is that a government post, too, and hush-hush?
You won't tell?
Anne needs someone to... sharpen her pencils.
I don't like the look of that lot, Mr Hobb.
Better phone Paterson. Tell him to get here quickly.
Oh, and er... cut Nelson's drink, eh?
Ladies and gentlemen, our own Terry and the Pirates!
Norrie!
Get off!
Hey, leave him alone!
- Whoa! - Tom!
After him, men.
Hadn't you better see to these men?
Er... get them into the other room, the dining room.
Did you come prepared for this, Doctor?
I'll... I'll have to have this one in surgery.
He' taken a heavy knock.
Tell me, Mr Kellerman. Why do I have so much trouble from your employees?
At least once a month one of them comes in here and goes berserk.
It's a habit I don't like. No wonder my predecessors left the business.
You serve liquor here. Some can't hold it.
Bill, how much did these men have to drink?
A couple of pints. A dram or two.
They'd be dangerous in a milk bar.
Mrs Coleman, I'll see to it that you're duly compensated.
They'll be reprimanded. It won't happen again.
- What have you got to say? - Do you wish to prefer charges?
Bill, close the bar.
Mr Kellerman? Tom Crane. I've been hoping to meet you.
Ah, yes, yes. Sarah did mention you.
Why don't we have a chat tomorrow evening? I'm sorry I can't make it sooner.
I should be free for a little in the afternoon.
That's good. Maybe we could get together. I'd like to see your work.
Good idea!
Did you know there are 15 000 known species of orchids?
Here?
Throughout the world.
Look. Isn't this a beautiful Cymbidium?
Eager little things, aren't they?
They adore the moisture.
Do you mind if I leave you? Kellerman's expecting me.
Not at all. Go ahead. I'll wait here.
Martindale.
Anne?
Well, you must be imagining things.
Who would want to suffocate you? Why?
Why don't you both come back here? We'll talk about it.
I wouldn't go alone.
The police may not be as sympathetic as I am.
No, no, no. Listen to me, Anne.
Anne, are you there?
It's about Crane.
And Anne Reynolds.
I said I did not want her involved.
It's all out of hand.
Out of control.
I told them. I warned them.
Tell me
Before I answer anything, Crane...
I don't think the MacKenzies were meant to die.
Well, I can't be sure.
I think something went wrong.
Bob suffered from innate curiosity.
Something like yourself.
And like the proverbial cat.
And Jean?
She was poisoned, Mr Crane.
Poisoned?
Contaminated rye. Ergot.
It er... comes from a parasite fungus growing in the ears of the plant.
It's not a common form of poisoning now.
They had a name for it in the Middle Ages.
They called it St. Anthony's Fire.
Delirium. Hallucinations.
Frequently, a sensation of being burned, all over.
A sense of one's body being of fire.
You reported this to the police?
Our police?
They're not the law here, Mr Crane.
Kellerman?
He has large pockets.
Some of our more respected citizens are in them.
And you?
Not by choice.
Kellerman has a way of discovering what one had hoped were...
buried misdemeanours.
Add to that the fact that I've been trying to drown mine in John Barleycorn,
and you'll see that I'm sitting, if not staggering, target.
But you're telling me all this?
I've a sense of time running out.
In all directions.
Threats are a bit less veiled than before, and...
and I've a need for someone to feel not too badly about me.
But there's more?
Well, I've told you all I know.
Except, perhaps, that there might be pockets... bigger than Kellerman's.
- An organisation... - More would have to become from higher up.
Does Omega mean anything to you?
Keep away from them.
And Miss Reynolds. Take her with you. Where is she now?
Well, find her. Go on. Get out of here.
Bill, have you seen Miss Reynolds?
Er... she went out earlier with Sgt Paterson.
We're late.
I didn't know we had to clock in.
Kellerman doesn't like to be kept waiting.
Can you drive? You look as if you've had a snootful.
I thought you would have changed your mind.
Let's go.
Hello.
Nice welcome.
- How did you get here? - The guiding hand of Sgt Paterson. And you?
Our friend Graham.
Either he's on something, or he's auditioning for Night Of The Highland Zombie.
- Have they harmed you? - No.
After Miss Ashley's guided tour,
someone decided I needed a Turkish bath to round things off.
Only my girl-guide pluck saved me from a broiling in a locked greenhouse.
Stupidly, I complained to the good Sergeant, and here I am.
Are you OK?
- Sorry to keep you. - Now you're here, can we go?
What, before getting what you came for?
I came to get her.
I don't deny you'd cause for complaint.
Sarah was just a little naughty. Overenthusiastic.
Tell them what they want to know, then get it over with.
I hate cat-and-mouse games.
- Why did the MacKenzies have to die? - He threatened me with exposure.
I tried to frighten him through Jean, and misjudged my move.
- Who owns Swiss Scott? - Pass.
Never mind. I have a good idea.
Why the production of ergot?
For some time now we've been developing and manufacturing a new cross-strain.
More virulent than that normally accepted.
To what end?
Initially, to study its influence in small doses on human subjects.
It was unpredictable.
After initial trauma, we found that our subjects could become totally pliable and passivist.
However, as we went further, we discovered a bizarre development.
While they would be peaceful, obedient for weeks, even months on end,
there might come suddenly a total character change.
A primitive force would erupt onto the surface and manifest itself
in the most comic, grotesque, and sometimes destructive way.
Now you've created a monster, all you have to do is find a controll?
Think, Mr Crane, of the total power that could lie within one's grasp,
once all was perfected.
And how many people, countries, would be interested in such power?
The force they might wield.
Or a single organisation.
We're almost there now. No cure.
But a little challenging, a little programming in advance...
Controlled, violent subjects.
Hobb?
Deceptive, isn't it?
Yes, he looks a bit depressed, but I have something in mind to cheer him up.
What do you have in mind for us, to keep us quiet when we get back?
Who said anything about us getting back?
You'll be travelling back in a rather ancient helicopter, full of loose wiring and faulty screws.
The mechanics at this end are far from efficient.
- And the pilot? - Hobb?
It is a sacrifice, but if one of my own people is to go missing, as well as ourselves,
it will add credence to our mourning.
Graham...
Have you met Miss Reynolds and Mr Crane?
Sgt Paterson has something for you.
At least this was you won't feel any pain when the 'copter goes down.
- And there'll be a fewer mistakes. - How do you hope to get away with this?
Oh, we'll manage.
We work for the government. People know we're here.
Will you stop him!
Hobb, look at me.
We can't leave them there.
What do you want to do? Commit suicide? Come on.
Stop worrying, Tom.
Put it down to rich experience and leave it behind.
Look, it stinks. There's a cover-up on the whole affair. Wheels within wheels...
Shall we call this closed, before we fall out?
Only your position here, and Anne's, come to that, has saved you from serious investigation.
However, all that matters is that you're here, safe, and sound. Now, let the past be.
Do that, and we might all be out of a job.
I have a long memory... and no-one's going to take that away.