Morning, ladies! What have you got for me today?
Oh, dear! Oh, that's not good.
Hello? Anyone at home?
Shambu, darling, could you...?
I am busy!
Fine!
Father Brown! What brings you to my home sweet home?
Mrs McCarthy's busy baking for the church fete,
but she's run out of sugar.
May I possibly cadge some honey?
Of course! Will you come into my parlour? Ooh!
Miss May! I have a bone to pick with you.
Morning, Father. Morning, Miss Slither!
Yet again, your wretched bees have been in my garden.
Darling, bees are attracted to fragrant, colourful places.
I don't think they'd go in your garden.
Well, they've made a nest under my eaves! A nest? You jest.
I've seen it! I have extremely good eyesight. Indeed - you can even see things that aren't there.
We could have a quick inspection.
Fair enough.
Shambu! Could we borrow the ladder?
Oh, uh, Hannah, dear, could you help hold the ladder for Miss May?
Best not. I might be tempted to shake it.
Hannah!
Ah! Well, Miss Slither, you do have visitors.
A family of house martins.
Still, you did always struggle with the birds and the bees.
It was an easy mistake to make.
Is she here yet?! Not yet, any minute.
She's been discharged.
Well, I've managed to make the house spick and span,
though I'm not at all sure what Penelope has done in the garden.
I am fagged.
Why do we have to go to all this effort?
Because Miss May is a much-loved member of the parish.
And a generous donor to St Mary's.
Oh, I see.
So she writes a cheque, so we all have to tug our forelocks.
No! Well... yes.
But she is a very kind lady.
Look at the way she rescued that poor boy, Shambu.
Dragged him from the gutter in Calcutta.
Shambu! Have you got everything you need?
I think so.
But there is one thing that's worrying me. Yes?
Well, my mother's bed is on the top floor, but she won't be able to manage stairs.
I wonder...
I'll help. Always happy to muck in.
Thank you!
For your information, Shambu is not from Calcutta,
he's from the province of Malpur.
Oh, I do beg your pardon.
I'm sure they have a much better class of gutter there.
Oh, darlings! It's so good to be home!
Do you ever go back to India? I have never been.
Not since I was a baby. That's a shame.
My Aunt Fliss says it's a magical country.
You know, we're sort of in the same boat, you and I, far from home.
I'm stuck in Kembleford until I'm ready to spread my wings.
I don't think my mother will ever allow me to spread my wings. Oh...
I suppose I have to go and be nice to the wretched woman.
Only because it fulfils your petit-bourgeois sense of obligation.
I don't know why your mother sent you to that university.
All you've learned is how to sneer at people.
Oh, sorry, Auntie Eileen. Hmmm.
I was going to take her a cake, but I had a bit of difficulty
with the ingredients, and it just doesn't look right.
I'm sure Miss May will understand.
Hmm... You put your heart into it.
Yes. It was made with love, so I'm sure it'll taste delicious.
Now, there's sandwiches and soup in the kitchen,
and should you need to get anyone's attention...
Thank you! I shall ring it constantly. Mother!
Oh, my sweet knight!
Shall I answer the door?
Well, we could all just lie here and pretend to be dead, but go on.
Oh, Miss May.
It's awful to see you in such a state.
So, I've made you a Battenberg.
Oh, you really shouldn't have.
Unfortunately, I didn't have any pink food colouring,
so it's all a bit monochrome, I'm afraid.
You didn't have any yellow food colouring either.
I mean, this is a beige Battenberg.
Would you put it in the kitchen
next to that delicious chocolate gateau from the WI?
It's a very nice plate.
Oh, thank you... And you've brought Hannah.
How is my favourite little palindrome?
Very well, thank you, but I hope you're not in too much pain.
It's sad to see you looking so... helpless.
Oh, no, darling. Even when I'm in a wheelchair,
I'm still in complete control of everything about me.
My cup runneth over.
Sorry, she's just a bit overwrought with university.
But if you need any errands running...
Actually, I think I may be able to help.
Bunty has promised to give me driving lessons,
so I can be your chauffeur. Absolutely not.
I've told you, you are not allowed to drive till you are 21.
But that's ridiculous! I'm 20... Enough!
You are far too precious,
which is why I've invited my solicitor around,
to talk about your future.
Falling off a ladder makes you think about these things.
If you're expecting a visitor, perhaps we'd better leave.
Thank you, yes, it has been a long day.
Don't forget, we're just on the end of a telephone.
Yes. Ah, but not you, Bunty. I have a job for you.
Oh, really?
How would you like to commit a murder?
I want you to kill the queen bee.
Whatever for?
Well, there comes a time when the queen grows tired and old
and as she starts to fade, the whole hive falls apart -
they know the end is near.
Now, in nature, the bees do the deed themselves,
but it's an agonising end
and I prefer to do it humanely, with my finger and thumb.
Oh, gosh.
Beekeeping does seem to be a brutal sort of hobby.
Oh, no, darling! Death is just nature's way of spring cleaning.
Now then, you and I are both queens.
Fabulous, flamboyant creatures
and those around us are only too happy to serve us.
So, will you do it, darling?
I'll try my best.
Good.
Because Shambu wouldn't dare - he's terrified of them.
Now then, you'll need the smoker.
Nothing subdues those bees like spearmint-scented smoke.
OK, bees. I mean you no harm.
Well... most of you.
Right...
Agh!
Ow!
So, the queen gets to live another day, does she?
I couldn't even get close to her.
I thought you were wearing protective clothing. I was!
But it think there must have been a hole in it.
"The queen bee can lay up to 2,000 eggs a day...
"...attended, as she is, by an entourage of chefs,
"nursemaids and other workers."
Well, Miss May certainly has her entourage.
I don't know why she's so hard on Shambu -
it's almost as if he's her prisoner.
Well, she worries about his future.
I suppose that's why she invited the solicitor round.
Ah...
Oh, it's you.
Still carrying on with your criminal practice?
Still getting away with it.
You two deserve each other.
Darling, you look dreadful!
Oh, darling! Well, so do you, but at least with me, it's only temporary.
So, what's all this about you wanting a new will?
Oh, no, not a will, a codicil.
An addendum, an amendum, a grumbling appendix.
Are you on very strong medication?
Oh, no, darling. It's this business of Shambu's legacy.
I've heard too many stories about precious jewels going walkabouts
from bank vaults, so I have hidden it somewhere in the house.
That's really not a good idea.
I could store it in my safe.
No, darling, I've heard too many stories about you.
No, it's safely stashed away, but just in case
the angels come calling,
I've written a message to Shambu that leads to it
and I want you to add this to my bundle.
But this is gibberish. What, is it? Dutch? Double Dutch?
Shambu should be able to work it out.
Well, this is all very, um...
Where do I put my cigarette? Oh...
My neighbour's Battenberg.
Now, it may not be tasty, but hopefully it's flame retardant.
Ooh!
Naughty boy!
How is your book?
Fascinating.
"On a given day, the female bees all rise up against their useless
"male drones and slaughter them, without mercy."
We could learn a lot from bees.
Now, I've made a casserole for Miss May.
She won't be fit to do any cooking for a while and Shambu...
Well, Shambu's a man.
Hello?
Oh! Bunty darling! No, you mustn't bring that thing in here...
Oh, it's you! What on earth are you...?
Bunty. Hello! I have bought you some sustenance, courtesy of Mrs M.
It's a lamb casserole,
so fresh it was frolicking in the fields only yesterday! Thank you.
Do you smell smoke?
Mother?
Mother?!
Mother!
Mother! No!
I gather the deceased was released from hospital today.
Yes, she was.
Was she very ill?
Could she, perhaps, have died peacefully in her sleep?
Doubtful.
There was a beekeeper's smoker left on the bedside table...
...possibly by an intruder.
And, if you look into her eyes, there are burst blood vessels,
normally associated with asphyxiation.
My thoughts exactly.
Now, perhaps you can...
Are you all right, sir?
Is there a bee in here? Well, quite possibly.
My old granny used to keep bees.
She said, "Be nice to the bee, stay happy and gay.
"And it will fly merrily on its way."
Did she? Good old Granny Goodfellow.
Well, if this wasn't a crime scene, I'd grab a newspap... Ahh!
Inspector?
I've just been stung on the neck.
Can I make you a cup of tea?
Or something stronger?
No, I don't drink.
I just keep thinking this is a dream and...
Just seen the ambulance. Has something happened to Miss May?
Miss May has... has gone to meet her maker.
Oh, no! Oh, you poor, poor thing!
Hello. My car broke down, and then I saw an ambulance.
Is everything...?
Beattie?!
So, who would want to kill Miss May?
She was so funny and friendly and fabulous.
Well, I'm never one to speak ill of the dead,
but she had quite a tongue on her.
And poor Miss Slither was always on the receiving end of it.
But they were neighbours all their lives.
Why wait 60 years to silence her?
There's something odd about Shambu.
When I arrived at the house,
he was rooting through the cocktail cabinet.
But then later, he said he didn't drink.
And he was going on about wanting his freedom.
Freedom is a possible motivation...
...but would it not be easier to simply pack a suitcase?
And then there's Miss Slither's niece?
Well, she always struck me as a very strange fish indeed.
And there was that conversation she had?
Miss May said, "My cup runneth over" and then she ran away.
There is another possible motive.
Money.
Miss May was a very wealthy woman.
She inherited her house and a considerable sum of money
from her father and she spent ten years working for that man.
The Maharajah of Malpur.
And she was in the process of changing her will.
She'd invited her solicitor round.
Oh, solicitor? Is that what you call him? Well, I would call him...
Mr Grunion?
Father Brown! Miss Windermere!
Mrs McCarthy.
My condolences.
I understand you were very close to Miss May.
She was a truly magical presence.
I can't believe she's now an absence.
If you don't mind my asking, what were you discussing with her?
She wanted to add something to her will. A message, in code,
that would lead Shambu to a valuable item of jewellery.
Do you have this coded message? I refused to take it.
It was incomprehensible.
Ah, Mr Grunion. We're ready for you, sir.
Well, I didn't see any secret message.
No, though there was a still-smouldering smoker.
An hour ago, the killer came in here,
wondering how to get away with murder.
That's odd. What?
The bee suit's gone.
Well, presumably, whoever it was, put on the suit,
picked up the smoker, so that if they were caught in the act,
they would be invisible. Something else.
What? The ladder. Shambu removed it before I could examine it.
And? Well, I thought Miss May fell off the rung because it was rotten.
But it's been cut through - cleanly and deliberately.
Heavens! So you think that wasn't an accident? Indeed.
Who would benefit from Miss May's departure?
Mr Grunion.
Hello. Oh, Father Brown. You, as well?
I was most surprised to be summonsed.
I can't imagine why...
So... Shall we begin?
As you know, Beattie had a theatrical streak
and so, she has recorded her last will and testament on tape.
Hello, there, my darlings! Sorry, I'm dead. Ha!
But I have some mementos from the other side.
To Father Brown, I bequeath all my books,
as you're the one person I know who could understand them.
Thank you, Miss May.
To Mrs McCarthy, my supply of honey, so you'll never run short again.
Oh! That'll be... useful.
And to Bunty, my collection of fur coats.
Every girl should be able to slip into some sable. Gosh!
Now, to my neighbour, Miss Slither, and her niece - £100.
For a new wardrobe or possibly cosmetic surgery.
Typical! She gives with one hand and strangles me with the other.
To Shambu, I leave the rest of my estate.
And I have an announcement.
You are not, as I have always told you, the son of a beggar man.
Your father was, the Maharajah of Malpur.
But your mother died in childbirth
and your father died of grief shortly afterwards.
He wanted you to grow up, not knowing the trappings of wealth,
or the pressures of royal blood, so I was sworn to secrecy.
But he does have a gift for you.
A diamond, as bright as the morning star.
And I wish you all the love in the world.
Goodnight, my dear darling, goodnight.
There is a slight... complication.
Miss May wanted to give me a message, in code,
that would lead to this diamond.
But I felt unable to accept it and I believe it is now lost.
It doesn't matter - you've got the house and the money,
but more than that, you've got your freedom!
Finally, your life can begin.
Inspector! I'm in the middle of confidential legal proceedings.
We, too, have a legal matters to attend to. Sergeant.
Shambu Maier? Yes?
I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Miss Beattie May.
You do not have to say anything... No! ..unless you wish to do so.
Anything you say may be put into writing and given in evidence.
This way, sir. No! Get off me! I am innocent!
Padre. Before you go in,
I must warn you to restrict your conversation to spiritual matters.
Yes. Although, of course, I consider all things to be spiritual.
Do you? Well, I see this young man as a cold-blooded killer.
Having examined the house,
it seems he made multiple attempts on his mother's life.
The ladder she used had been vandalised, causing her accident.
Her whiskey had been laced with laxatives.
You know, Inspector, I can't help but notice,
you always seem to arrest the brown-skinned people.
That is irrelevant!
We don't care if someone is black or white, rich or poor.
Innocent or guilty. Uh, Penelope...
I'll wait in the car. Father Brown.
How's the pain in your neck, sir?
Which one, Sergeant?
Would you like me to hear confession, Mr Maier?
I just want someone to hear me! I'm listening.
The inspector believes that I murdered my mother.
That I cut the ladder and put pills in her whiskey. Did you?
I did both of those things, but...
...not to murder her. They were practical jokes!
Dangerous jokes, Shambu.
The thing is, she was holding the ladder upside down.
She was supposed to step on the bottom rung and fall over.
And the whiskey, I did that weeks ago and I was just about
to throw it away, when Bunty interrupted me.
Why did you do these things?
Because I was angry.
Because she would not give me any freedom.
And now... I know she was just keeping a promise to my father.
I believe your mother had a dispute with her solicitor?
Not that I know of.
But she did have an argument with Miss Slither.
How could you be so cruel?! How could you?!
Oh, please, it was a long time ago!
Have some of this...
What do you call it? Cake.
I don't want anything from you!
And mark my words, your sins will find you out!
What did she mean?
I don't know.
My mother argued with a lot of people.
Father, am I going to hang for this?
Shambu, I will do everything in my power to prevent it.
Father Brown! Do come in.
It can be a shock to lose someone close to us,
especially if we part on unhappy terms.
I wouldn't say that! We did occasionally have words.
But we'd always forget and move on.
Some things cannot be forgotten.
Sometimes, our sins will find us out.
Oh, dear. Our little ding-dong must have been louder than I thought.
"Ding-dong"? Well, I'd gone round to see if Miss May needed anything
and we got talking, about the old days, the Great War.
And I said, how awful it was, all those young men, forced to sign up.
And she mentioned that they used to have a gardener who was
a conscientious objector - a very brave thing to be in those days.
Only she thought that was wrong,
so she told her father, who had him sacked.
And so, the poor man had no choice but to enlist. And he did.
And he died...
...on a field in Flanders.
I, too, was in Flanders.
Many hopes and dreams were buried in the mud.
And the thought that she had sent someone there... I was furious.
Furious?
Not so much that I wanted to kill her,
though I can see why someone might be tempted.
But we have to forgive, don't we?
And say... nice things... at the funeral.
Yes.
And on that note, she has made a rather unusual request.
Per misericordiam Dei, requiescat in pace.
Amen.
What can she have been thinking of? Wear pink. Not black.
How can anyone express grief looking like a... a chrysanthemum?
I think that's the idea.
She didn't want us in widow's weeds,
shedding dreary tears as we sung some dirge.
She wanted an ad hoc cocktail party.
I had to dig this out, from right at the back of my wardrobe.
But I'm glad that I did.
I'd forgotten that bright colours can make you feel brighter.
Oh, well that's true.
Two minutes. And don't try any funny business.
Oh, Shambu, it's so good to see you. Albeit in unfortunate circumstances.
But I've just been on the phone to my father,
and he knows a solicitor, who... They're coming!
He means the bees! They're swarming.
Nobody move. There's nothing to worry about, folks, I promise you
if we all stay absolutely still, I promise you they will move on.
Thank you, Sergeant!
You're welcome, Father.
My granny used to say that bees liked bright colours,
they found them soothing.
Thanks to Miss May's dress code today, nobody has got stung.
Well, I for one, feel as if I've been to the opera, not a funeral.
Hmm, in the beehive, there is no time for grief.
When a queen dies, the nurse bees make royal jelly for the next queen.
And the workers guard the precious substance.
So, was Miss May killed for her precious substance? The diamond.
Quite possibly.
If I had to put money on who stole that code,
I'd lay bets it was Ronnie Grunion.
By all accounts, he's more of a swindler than he is a solicitor.
Well, we don't have the code, but we can still look for the diamond.
If the killer is looking for it, too,
find one and we may find the other.
So the killer came in here, with the smoker.
Just a minute.
If the killer was carrying the smoking device as cover,
why leave it behind?
Good point, Mrs McCarthy.
I know that cough.
Hello! What exactly are you doing?
I heard voices and didn't know if you were friend or foe.
And what were you doing in the house in the first place?
I am, uh, I am responsible for Miss May's estate,
and so, naturally, I was carrying out a full... inventory...? Hmm.
And what were you really doing in the house?
Oh, all right.
It's this business of the missing legacy.
Beattie can't tell us where it is.
Shambu may never get to inherit.
What if it's stashed in some a mattress and ends up on the dump?
So you did steal the message!
No, I did not! But I know it was written on that writing pad,
so perhaps she left a first draft, or some kind of clue.
You mean she left an imprint.
How do we know we can trust him? We don't.
So we keep him close to us.
"My cup runneth over"?
Father? Erm, I won't be a moment...
I'm so sorry, my aunt is having a lie down.
No need to apologise. May I come in?
Well, the place is a bit of a mess, but... Not to worry.
It must have been a shock for your aunt, losing a lifelong friend.
I suppose it must. And what did you think about Miss May?
I hardly knew her.
I mean, I sometimes saw her around.
And yet, you implied you would be happy to knock her off her ladder.
Only in jest!
You met her on the 6th of June,
at a tearoom near Tawny Lake, My Cup Runneth Over.
Was that to discuss your relationship with Shambu?
I haven't got a relationship with Shambu.
But I despised the way she treated him.
And at Easter, I heard Indira Gandhi give a talk
on colonialism at my university.
And it made me think of the way Shambu was subjugated.
So, I decided to be brave and I wrote him a letter.
I had a reply, suggesting we meet at My Cup Runneth Over.
And I was so excited.
Only it wasn't Shambu.
Darling!
Oh, that dress is beautiful. But it doesn't suit you.
What do you want? To discuss this, um, character assassination.
So I am a "quasi-imperialist pedagogue"? Goodness!
I mean every word. I know you do.
You're so adorable and so deluded.
Shambu is not for you.
I'm sure you'll find someone, a dull librarian.
But stay away from my son.
Did you consider revenge?
I did.
But I'm nowhere near brave enough
and I hope they find the killer soon
because... Shambu could end up with a rope round his neck.
So we've got all the letters now.
Which spells, "A fiu arrt fo souh ryygt"...
Blah-di-blah-di-blah...
Well, it could be an anagram?
What? With 64 letters? We could be here till doomsday.
If there are 64 letters, then why not arrange them in 8 rows of 8.
Oh, any other little jobs you want doing? What are you thinking?
Uh, well, a bee does a complex dance to lead
its fellow foragers to nectar.
Well, she's certainly leading us a dance!
Yes, but this was intended for Shambu.
How did Miss May address him?
She called him, her knight! Her sweet, precious knight.
I believe she was teaching him chess.
The knight moves two squares and then one square at right angles.
I believe we have to negotiate these letters as a knight
moves on a chessboard.
That's preposterous! There must be millions of combinations.
I'll have you know, I set the crossword for the parish magazine,
so if anyone can unscramble an anagram, it...
Oh, wait a minute.
I think I'm seeing something.
"For you to find your fortune, you must face your late father."
Well, we are facing him. Handsome devil.
Luckily, no-one else has been digging.
So, we are one step ahead of whoever stole the code.
So what do we do now? Dig.
Penelope! Will you please bend your knees?
You're just storing up trouble for yourself in later life!
Thank you, Mrs M.
Could I have a look at the code? I've been counting.
"For you to find your fortune, you must face your late father."
That's 48 letters. Shouldn't it be 64?
Um, what if we start the knight from the other side of the board?
Ooh! Uh... "Your late... father...
"..has a gift... for you."
"To find your fortune, you must face your...
"..your fear."
Bees! Shambu is terrified of bees.
Oh, no! This was her pride and joy!
Who would...?
The same person who took her life has taken her treasure.
What kind of barbarian could...?
Someone who was deeply hurt by Miss May.
After all, she did have a sting in her tail.
Not with me, she didn't!
At our last meeting, we just sat and joked and...
...and stubbed our cigarettes out on her neighbour's Battenberg.
Miss Slither's cake!?
It was mean, I know, but it's not as if Miss Slither was going to see us!
Auntie Eileen?
That's strange, she must have slipped out. Yes.
But we've just had the most marvellous news.
Shambu is being released! Ah?
My father knows a solicitor
and it turns out he knows the Chief Constable.
He gave Inspector Mallory quite a talking-to.
Is your aunt aware of this?
Oh, yes. Sergeant Goodfellow just came round to tell us.
Cup of tea? Yes, please.
Hello, there, my darling!
A first-class single to Marrakech, please.
Hello, there, my darling!
A first-class single to Marrakech, please...
Excellent impersonation.
Although, I think Miss May may have something to say about her clothes
being strewn around.
You are confusing me with someone who cares.
That woman had a black hole instead of a heart.
She had a very cruel streak.
And she caused terrible harm to someone who you cared about.
Someone whose picture you kept hidden for many years.
His name was Billy.
And yes, he was their family gardener.
But he was also my lover.
We used to spend hours together, when no-one was looking.
Only someone was looking.
Miss May. Of course.
I never knew why Billy changed his mind and decided to go to war.
Back then, he told me he had to see the world.
But last week, I came to see Miss May
because she was being vile to my niece who has feelings for Shambu.
And I told her how precious young love is
and how heartbroken I had been.
And she finally told me the whole story.
She knew that Billy was in love with me... you're a coward!
...and she didn't just have him sacked...
You're never going to get away with this!
...she had him humiliated.
And with no job, he had no choice...
...but to sign up and die.
And an hour after she revealed this to you,
she herself... was dead.
An intruder went into Miss May's room... with a smoker.
Oh, it's you!
They then placed a pillow over her face and pressed down... hard...
...until they didn't need to press down any more.
And then, they took the secret code...
...knowing that that would lead to untold wealth.
And anyone could have done that! You have no proof. Indeed.
Except a small detail gave you away.
There was a Battenberg cake, with cigarettes stubbed out in it...
...on the bedside table.
Only, it wasn't there when they found her body.
You couldn't bear other people seeing her desecration of your cake.
So, you put down the smoker..
...and took the cake.
One... last... indignity.
Well, she can't hurt me now.
I solved her code in three days, you know.
I knew it was something to do with chess.
Her sweet, precious knight.
And when a queen dies, another takes her place.
So now it's my turn to spread my wings.
A long way from Kembleford.
And will you pay for your passage?
Oh, I think you can guess.
It must be a remarkable jewel.
Malpur is famed for its mineral wealth.
One thousand carats and utterly without flaw.
Not quite.
If you look closely there's a stain.
Beattie's blood.
And unless you repent,
that stain will remain with you for all eternity.
Oh, you always know just what to say.
Father...
...would you hear my confession?
Please?
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
Oh, Miss Slither? No, darling.
Not any more. Stop her!
You mind your head as you're getting in the car, madam.
Seems like blasphemy, doesn't it?
To see that creature wearing Beattie's clothes.
You were on the point of stealing her diamond!
And that wouldn't be the first thing you've pilfered, by all accounts.
Never too late to repent, Mr Grunion.
Shambu will need guidance over the next few years.
I hope you can be a good friend to him.
Padre. I believe a small thank you is in order.
You're welcome.
Oh, we have an item for you to look after.
It may be needed as evidence.
Bunty! Oh!
I could retire to the south of France with this!
Oh, but, Inspector, who would solve all the crimes around here?
I do hope they both like honey,
because I have two hundred jars of it.
Honey scones? I think I see another award coming, Mrs M!
Shambu! Please, take a seat.
Thank you so much for all of your support.
And... thank you... for believing in me.
You're welcome. Now, we were keen to invite you here to...
Hello! I'm sorry I'm a bit early,
but I have a huge horror of being late. Come and sit down.
Me, too! It brings me out in palpitations.
Oh, really?
As I was saying, we were keen to invite you both here today
because you've both suffered such terrible losses.
So, um, help yourself to cakes and scones.
Oh, and to some of my home-made lemonade.
Oh, that's very good...
Hmm, have you given any thought to your future?
Not really, but I do know that I want to keep bees.
Yes, I am scared of them,
but... they feel like my mother's spirit watching over me.
Oh, that's a marvellous idea. Bees are what keep the world going.
Pollinating all the crops in the field. And if you need any help...
Oh!
Apis mellifera. The bees.
The bees!