Agatha Raisin (2014–…): Season 3, Episode 2 - The Deadly Dance - full transcript

James!

Why did you let me sleep in?

I was going to bring you
breakfast in bed.

Why?

Does there have to be a reason?

Well, you only bring me flowers

when you've done
something wrong.

Or buy me chocolates when
I'vedone something wrong.

But breakfast?

This is a whole different
heap of sorryness.

What?



- What?
- What?

What?

Oh.
The article.

The... The interview.

What's it like?

Yeah.
Yeah, it's okay.

"Super Sleuth or P.R. Stunt?

This... This is a hatchet job.
That's what this is.

Wilkes!
They're quoting Wilkes.

Listen to this.

"Mrs. Raisin tends to hinder
rather than to help

the very important work
that the police do.

But what would you expect
from an amateur?"

Amateur?!



Right.
Well, I'll show them.

Didn't make it to bed again,
then, I see?

Well, the book on the Civil War
must be going great guns.

20,000 words and counting.
Deadline end of the week.

You'll be brilliant.
You know what you're doing.

- You'll smash it.
- Hopefully.

Actually, uh,

I wanted you to read something.

It's our letter of engagement,
Mrs. Duckett.

We need you to sign it.

Well, you shouldn't believe

everything you read
in the paper.

Or your husband,
for that matter.

Miserable old goat.

- Ah, morning, Dottie.
- Morning.

Still no news on Red,
I'm afraid.

But we are trending
on social media.

We got some posters made.

Red'll turn up.

Uh, hello?

Tiggy Laggat-Brown
to see Mrs. Raisin.

How about you take a seat?
I'll be right with you.

- How about I don't?
- Morning, team.

Ah.
This is my old friend Tiggy.

Less of the "old," Chas.

We've known each other
since our 20s,

and I've promised her
preferential treatment.

No such thing.
We have crimes to solve.

And by that, I don't mean
missing dogs and honey traps.

I want something nice and juicy
to get my teeth stuck into.

Death threats juicy enough
for you?

Agatha Raisin.

Very pleased to make
your acquaintance.

Do tell me all about it.

Yeah, a touch-up
and you'll be fine.

Excuse me?

No, I-I meant Marilyn.

Uh, just checking you're okay
for tonight's talk

to the historical society.

All set and raring to go.

Do you want, uh, PowerPoint,
slides, or virtual soundtrack?

Could cover all bases
if you like. Your call.

Just a talk would be okay,
I think.

Ah!
Okay, okay.

How many are we expecting?

At the moment, three.

Including me.
Four if you include yourself.

Okay.

See you at 7:00
at the village hall.

Actually could we make it 6:00?

And if you could come
to the vicarage.

It'll just be more cozy.

Cozy.

And it's my daughter's
21st tonight.

We live at the manor house
at Herris Cum Magna,

and we've organized a party
to celebrate

and to announce her engagement
to Perry Peterson.

It's all gone horribly wrong.

The caterers have let me down,
the ice sculpture has melted...

Listen, lady,
I was promised a death threat.

Show her the note, Tigs.

This arrived yesterday.

"If Cassandra marries Perry
she will die.

Don't tell police."

Why not tell the police?

- Because it says not to.
- So?

If someone threatened
my daughter or me mum

or Gemma or whatever,

I'd be legging it to the cops,
simple as.

I don't want
the police involved.

Imagine what people would say.
Gossip would be rife.

And that isn't pleasant, is it?

So I turned to Charles here,
as always.

He's regaled us
at the country club

with his colorful accounts
of his work here.

So, naturally,
he came to my rescue.

Naturally.

Although I hope you're not
the amateur busybody

that the police say you are.

Oh, no, not at all.

In fact, I can assure you,
Mrs. Laggat-Brown,

that I can get to
the bottom of this.

For an ever-so-professional fee.

Of course.
Whatever it takes.

I'm sure
with Charles at the helm

we'll get results.

Tigs.
Uh...

All clear here.

Looking good.

All set this end.

Rogering that.

A big welcome to you all.

It'll be fine.

Thank you.

Um, there will be speeches
and fireworks to follow.

Uh, and in the meantime,

please do help yourselves
to food and drink

and enjoy Cassandra's
favorite dance,

the Argentinean tango.

So, tell me boys,
how's the sleepover going?

Is this the beginning of a
beautiful, blossoming bromance?

So far so good.

Although I wouldn't
exactly call it a bromance.

It's only the weekend,
isn't it, Roy?

A change is as good
as a rest, Aggie.

Oh, gosh.

These two are fairly
going for it, aren't they?

Oh.

Ah.

I see Gorgeous George
has caught your attention.

He's an old school friend,
you know?

And we used to hang with Tiggy
back in the day.

The three of us
were thick as thieves.

You know,
he's an ex-hedge-fund manager.

He gave it all up
just like that,

to pursue his lifelong passion
for the Argentine tango.

Is that even legal?

Ohh.

What's he doing now?

Mirada and cabeceo.

Wha?
A-whatty-and-a-what-what?

Mirada.

He looks into her eyes,

asking if she would
like to dance.

Cabeceo.

He cocks his head,
beckoning her to him.

Of course he does.

Now I see where youget it from.

Toni, avert your eyes.

O-kay.

What's happening here, then?

Well, I know
exactly what's happening.

It's the...

Is it...?

Good God, he looks like
he's seen a ghost.

Actually, you know, he has.

What do you mean?

His wife, Helen.

You're a dead ringer for her.

"Dead ringer" as in...?

As in she's dead.

Ah...

And remember, this was
Cromwell's first command.

He rampaged across the field,

pulverizing Prince Rupert's
right wing.

Rupert's defeat was severe.

He was on horse,
and legend has it,

was forced to hide
in a bean field.

Quite a pile, isn't it?

Used to belong
to your friend George.

When Helen died,
he sold everything.

He and his daughter moved
to a cottage on the estate,

and he turned to dance.

Lord of the manor
to lord of the dance.

A much happier lord,
I might add.

- Charles, good to see you.
- How are you doing?

- Very well.
- Agatha.

Very pleased to meet you.

George?
George?

Sorry to interrupt.
We're back on.

We still have work to do.

Yes, thank you, Emma.

Be right there.

Okay.

It's good to meet you, Agatha.

You too.

I am actually vegan,

but salmons don't have
eyelashes, I don't think, so...

Excusez-moi!

No scoffing.
And absolutely no drinking.

Come on. Look lively, mister.
Mingle. Eyes, ears.

What? I'm the master mingler.
I'm the master of mingling.

- Watch and learn, sweet chuff.
- Mm!

So how are things
really going at Charles'?

Yeah, it's all right.

It's a little bit cold and damp
and lonely in the attic.

Well, if you... if you
want to come home

where it's warm and cozy
and friendly,

you know,
you know where to come.

No.
It's fine.

I'll leave you two lovebirds
to it.

Cheers.

Uh! Geh-geh-geh-geh!
I said no drinking, didn't I?

Go.
Mingle.

Hi.

Can I buy you a free drink?

Yes, you can.

Captain and Mrs. Bushing.
How are you?

Lovely to see you.
Do go through.

Let me introduce you.

This is Felicity,
my darling goddaughter.

- Hi, nice to meet you.
- Cassandra, my daughter.

- And Perry, her fiancé.
- Cassie, look who's arrived!

Oh, good God!

Mummy, Mummy, look!
It's Trudi!

Sorry, it's Cassie's big day.

She's... She's just
a bit excited.

- She is. She is.
- It means the world to her.

Perry, is there anyone
that you could think of

that would maybe...
Would possibly harm Cassandra?

I don't know,
an ex-boyfriend maybe?

No. Cassie, no, no.
Cassie's an angel.

Her mother, maybe.

Are you ill?

Got to practice my big number.

See, what it is, is I stupidly
agreed to do this tango routine

after the speeches
by the swimming pool

'cause, well, that's where
I proposed to Cassie.

- By the swimming pool.
- Aww.

Tell you the truth,
I'm absolutely dreading it.

I've had lessons with George,
right, but...

Do I have two left feet?

Uh...

Well, not, predominantly.
Well, no.

See, well I'm more of
a two-tone man, myself.

- Right.
- Ooh!

Just a bit of ska,
you know, bit of reggae.

If I mess this up,
Cassie's gonna kill me.

Or her mother will.

Good evening, sorry, thank you.

He's a nice big boy, isn't he?

Not really.

Wrong side of the tracks.

His father, Harrison,
has done time.

- Regular family of jailbirds.
- Really?

Well, why didn't you tell us
this before?

- Is he here tonight?
- God, no!

Criminals in my house?

No, he was banned.
Didn't go down well.

He was spitting.

Enough to harm Cassandra?

That type
are capable of anything.

Where will I find him?

In a gutter somewhere.

So is it just Harrison Peterson
that you object to,

or is it pretty much everyone

from the wrong side
of the tracks, Perry included?

Well, obviously he wouldn't be
my first choice for Cassandra,

but what can you do?

Cassandra wants to be
a professional dancer

in the West End.

She's already
started auditioning.

Cassie is amazing.
Much better than me.

Oh, Fliss.

Cass and Fliss have
been dancing together

since they were knee-high
to a grasshopper.

Isn't that right?

Do you remember,
we used to drive you insane

by playing the same song
on repeat

practically all the time.

Don't.

So is, uh, Cassandra's father
here tonight?

Jeremy works away a lot.

He's in the middle
of a big deal.

Travel industry.

He's securing contracts
with a major five-star hotel.

On his daughter's 21st?

Can't be helped.

Oh!
Time for the speeches.

Oh, Dad, can I have a mo?

Not now, darling.

I'm too busy
thinking about the dances.

Ooh, couple of sightings of Red.

- Who?
- The dog.

Oh.
What dog?

Roy, are you, uh...
Are you in position?

How is it?

Everything seems to be good
up my end.

- Charlie boy?
- So far so good.

Flank the chairs, Charles.

Assume position.

Ladies and...
thank you so much for coming

to this happy... celebration.

No one can...

Perry, sort it out.

Where's the...

- Test.
- No!

Ladies and gentlemen...

Gun! Gun!

Will someone open
the bloody door?!

Sorry, sorry.
Sorry.

Give me that!

There was a gun.

In that room.
At that window.

- I swear.
- Well, there's no one there now.

Well, they're not gonna
hang around

for a cozy little chat,
are they?

- I heard a gunshot.
- Or a firework?

Could you have imagined it?

Charles, I know what I saw.

Okay.

Who set off the fireworks?

Get out!
You frightful woman!

Look at me!
You've ruined my dress!

I saved your life!

'Cause there was a man up there,

a gunman with his sights
firmly set on you!

- I know what I saw!
- You saw nothing!

Because there was nobody there,

you ridiculous creature!

I should've known
you'd be trouble

from the story in the papers.

All right,
so what about Tango George?

I saw him trotting along
to the house

just as the speeches
were starting.

Dad?! I'm sorry, you have
got that totally wrong!

It's ridiculous!

We've known each other
for yonks, haven't we, Charles?

Tell her!

Oh, look, the police.
Well done.

- Here they are, on time.
- Who called the police?

Me.
I did.

Why did you do that?

Oh, everyone's leaving!

W-We won't get to do our dance.

Cassie, the party is over.

Get out!
I do not want you here!

You hired me.

And now I am firing you.

All right.

And as for you,
I read the article.

Weasel.

That's D.C.I. Weasel to you.

- She needs to be stopped.
- Yeah, that's music to my ears.

If people didn't choose
to engage

a private investigator,
Mrs. Laggat-Brown,

then the need for them
would be significantly reduced.

I know what I saw, Bill.

In fact, I think this might be
rather a good time

for you to tell the police
exactly why you hired me.

Just go, you crazy woman!

Tiggy, Tiggy.
Listen, I've got this.

Don't worry.
I think we should leave.

All right, all right.
All right, Charles!

I'm going.
For now.

But someone let off
those fireworks early. Mm.

And I think you should just
check out Harrison Peterson.

Hmm?

Charles.

Wild imagination, that one.
She's a crazy woman.

So, who did she kill?

Ha ha!
Your face.

Just joking, yeah.

- How did the thing...
- How was the...

- No...
- You go.

- Well, what I was going to...
- How was the...

Good morning!

Boy, have I missed
central heating.

Fraith's was very drafty.

And someone didn't lock up
properly last night,

so I'm back.

Carry on.
Don't mind me.

Well, I was just going to say,
how did the talk go last night?

Because you were in bed
when I got back.

Great, great.
How was work?

Good, good.

Agatha dodged a bullet.

You mean by not coming
to my talk?

- No, I mean an actual bullet.
- Roy!

What?
What happened?

Well, someone shot in her
direction, and she dodged it.

- Nine lives, this one.
- Roy!

Agatha?

It was just a little bullet.

And it wasn't aiming at me,
per se.

It just sort of went...
And I went...

- Whizzed.
- And it just...

You have somewhere to be, Roy.

- Office. Now.
- Okay.

Agatha!
Talk to me.

James, I'm fine.
Look at me.

I'm absolutely fine.

Roy Silver!

Why don't we do, uh,
four ganchos,

and then I could come in close
and we can do...

I'm so sorry,

I don't know
what's up with me today.

- My head's all over the place.
- Ohh...

Hello!

Agatha.

To what do I owe the honor?

You're not about to take
a running jump at us, are you?

No!
No.

Well, not unless you've got
a swimming pool.

No, actually,
I was just passing.

I thought
you were Carsely based.

I am.

But I just wanted
a quick word with George.

- In private.
- Ah.

Okay.

No, uh, no problem.

Uh, George,
shall I come back later

so we can finish rehearsing
that routine?

Actually, let's, um...

Let's... Let's leave it
for today.

I need to think about
the duet thing,

and I'm not sure it's working.

Really?

Okay.

Um, I'll see you later.

Nice to see you.

You too.

Are you and she...?

- No, no. Just friends.
- No? Just friends.

Fellow widowers.
That's all.

Oh! Goodness.
Look at all this.

Yes, I have a passion
for passion.

Have you ever felt that, Agatha?
That... That burning desire?

That fire in the belly?

Yes, I have.
Yes.

But only when I drink sambuca.

Oh.

That's my late wife, Helen.

Did you know
that the tango arose

from the seedy waterfront areas
in Buenos Aires?

Uh, n-no.
I did not.

The mating dance

between barmaids
and their customers

in shady nightclubs.

And with very few women around,

the young men found themselves
looking for excitement

and joining in too.

Hot and smoky, they would dance
late into the night,

reckless,

provocative, and...

Deadly.

"Sensual," I was going to say.

And that.

Deadly and sensual.

Such a deadly, sensual dance.

So how can I help?

Yes, well, uh, let's get
straight to the point.

What were you doing
sneaking into the manor house

just as the speeches
were starting?

- Sneaking?
- Mm-hmm.

Hardly.

No, the speeches were of
no real relevance to me,

and I...
I needed a comfort break.

Oh. Well...

Still, I mean,
it... it must be a little odd.

I mean, your old home.

And this place is...
It's quaint...

It's really just
bricks and mortar to me.

After Helen passed, I lost
all interest in material things.

Life's too short.
Why waste it?

Now I live to dance.

Have you ever tried tango?

Uhh, no.

No, I have not.

Well, you should.

I do classes, and you would be
more than welcome.

Got to cover the basics,
Detective Constable Wong.

Did you check
if they have security cameras?

I did, and they don't.

Oh. SOCO have been busy
with the plastics. Careful.

I think we'll be all right.

We've requested phone coverage
from the guests,

see if someone caught
the gunman on camera.

Yeah, as if there was
a "gunman."

Right.
Oh, oh, careful now.

I've been doing this
a long time.

Let's have a look.

- Sir?
- Yeah?

We're wearing gloves.

Oh.
How'd that happen?

Silly things.

If Agatha said she saw
something, she saw something.

Yeah, or she thought
she saw something.

Attention seeking,
that's all this is.

"Ohh!
I need more attention.

I cannae bear it if I haven't
got all the attention on me."

- Resin?
- Yeah, Agatha Raisin.

Yeah, I'm good, aren't I?
Boys at the station...

"Resin."
Or it could be gun oil.

I-It could be a million
different things, that.

It could be oil for... for hair
or body oil.

Ooh, you know,
that sort of shimmery stuff.

The glittery stuff
that gets everywhere.

Right in your crevices.

- And that?
- That's my glove.

That!

Well, that could be a million
different things too,

although it does look
suspiciously like

the spent cartridge
from a gun, yeah.

- Here you go, sir.
- Yeah.

I just nicked us
some vol-au-vents.

I've got hundreds of statements
to follow up on.

Yeah, well, the quicker
you get started...

Whoa, whoa. Be careful,
Detective Constable Wong.

Don't worry.
Comet's bombproof.

He's a beaut.
Aren't you, boy?

- And you are?
- Oh, Tiggy's goddaughter.

Grew up here,
didn't you, darling?

Before we bought the place.

- Must be a bit strange.
- Not really.

Tiggy's always treated me
like one of her own

and made me feel
part of the family.

Her Mum, Helen,
was a dear friend of mine.

Comet was hers,
and when she died,

I saw to it that Fliss

could spend as much time
as she liked here.

Which was a massive comfort,
to be fair.

I don't know
how I would've coped.

Anyway, how can I help you?

Agatha Raisin was right.
A shot was fired.

We found a spent cartridge
in the bedroom.

- She saved Cassandra's life.
- Unfortunately.

No. No.
I didn't mean it like that.

She was also right
about the fireworks.

I spoke to your gardener.

He'd gone off for a cigarette,

so someone else
set them off early.

Yeah.
To cover the sound of a gunshot.

Hello, darling.

How could you not be here,
Daddy?!

Ouch.

What do you mean?
What's going on?

Uh, hello?
Me and Perry. Engagement party.

No, no, no.
That's next week.

Oh, next week?
Right!

Change of plan.
I did tell you, didn't I?

Did I?

What, the actual...?

Oh, you two are ridiculous!

Oh, darling.

Seems you were right all along.

We found an empty cartridge
in the bedroom.

Huh!
Quelle surprise.

I presume she wants
to rehire me, then.

No. We'll take it from here,
thank you.

When hell freezes over.

No. Correction.
I'lltake it from here.

You've got paperwork to do.

Excuse me.

Where are we at on the letter?

Nothing.
No fingerprints.

Perry's dad?
Harrison Peterson.

He went down for three years.

Financial irregularities
centering on a nightclub.

But why would he take a potshot
at his future daughter-in-law?

Good question.

Seems a very extreme reaction
to not being invited.

But there again,
they are an odd bunch.

Well, I'll second that.

Mrs. Laggat-Brown tried to hide
the whole event

from her husband.

Oh.

What is all this lot?

I thought I might take up
a new hobby.

Weird.

Oh.
What are you doing here?

Reporting for duty.

I thought I could help.

"If you can't beat them"
and all that.

And those that solve together,
evolve together.

I, uh, thought you had
a deadline.

You know me.
I can multitask.

Mm.

Okay, so, uh, where are
we at on everything?

Well, I found Perry's dad.

He's staying at Pillows B and B
in Dembley.

Good, well,
maybe we should give him

an early morning wake-up call.

Excellent.

I've had a few sightings of Red,

so I could go with Bill, and we
could check that out after?

- Who's Red?
- The dog.

Oh, right.

Well, Redrum
is his official name.

Dottie named him
after a racehorse.

Redrum?
Really?

"Murder."

"Redrum."
Spelled backwards.

How come we didn't use
the blues and twos?

We save them for emergencies.

Oh.

So, Billy the bobby.

Might have known
you'd end up in the police.

- Do you love it?
- Yeah, I do.

No two days are the same.

Well, not since Agatha
moved to the village.

Hold on.

Problem?

- Just Wilkes chasing me.
- Welcome to myworld.

Right, you better let me
speak to him first.

- What are you doing?
- I think you might need backup.

Come on, then.

Right, I am gonna do
the talking.

You just look important.

Hello?
Mr. Peterson?

Police.
Open up, please.

- Thanks, Peter.
- All right.

Okay, we've notified his son,
Perry.

Any thoughts
on the suicide note?

Only that it doesn't make
any sense.

"I tried to kill Cassandra
because I wanted Perry

to get her money
and give it to me.

But I can't live with myself."

Why can't he live with himself?
He missed.

Right, I need to give H.Q.
a ring

and update them on the latest.

Hey, it's me.
I've got news.

You're really doing it, then?

I am indeed.

I am tripping the light fandango
in order to loosen a few lips

and sink Tiggy doodah's ship.

Are you all set?

If you let me finish
this paragraph.

Right, go on, then.
What news?

Dead?

Come on, James.
We're leaving.

Right, talk to me.
I'm listening.

It was after
a knee injury, actually.

- Busy.
- Ish.

Don't nod.

That's like an invitation
to dance.

Look who's just arrived.
Perry Peterson.

Father died earlier.

Clearly not that devastated
about it.

What are these two doing here?

Aggie, James.

Didn't expect to see
you two here.

Especially not you, James.

George said he needed
extra men, so...

Don't.

We thought as we're young,
free, and single,

we might find some action.

- Good luck.
- Well, we are actually working.

So now that you're here,
I suggest you might do the same,

with a little light digging,
perhaps?

Good afternoon, everyone.

Let's get started, shall we?

We'll start
with the basic steps.

Now, for those who are new,
just try to go with the flow

and try to follow my lead.

Now, when the music changes,
we'll change partners.

Oh, and of course, enjoy.

Ooh, ooh, ooh!
Don't mind me.

I'm just here to keep an eye
on certain people.

Police.

You carry on.

Okay.
Well, let's do this.

And remember,
it is our real emotions

that are exposed when we dance.

Now, gentlemen,
take your ladies in,

hold hip to hip.

Gents, you'll be going on
your left foot, forward first.

Ladies, on your right foot,
back.

And it goes.
And...

Step, step.

Step together, step and turn.

Step, step together, step and...

Good.

Step together, step...

Very nice.

Very good, Agatha.

Closer embrace.
More passion.

- Think of your husband.
- I am.

He is.
Well, sort of.

Let me show you.

You see, it's all about
the rhythm.

You've either got it
or you haven't.

Yes, yes, I get it.

And change partners.

Now, gentlemen,
take your ladies in.

Hold hip to hip.

"What gun is this bullet from?"

Gents, you'll be going on your
left, forward first. Ladies...

We'll have the results
in a couple of days.

James'll know.

Right, Red is definitely
covering some distance.

Sightings placed him here
two days ago

and here yesterday.

Any news your end?

Well, the pills bottle
came back clean.

Mm, that's a shame.

Not really.
Useful information.

If it was a genuine suicide,

it would have had prints
all over it.

Good point, Sherlock.

Also, according to the autopsy,

the barbiturates found
in Peterson's stomach

were barely dissolved,

as if they'd been shoved down
his throat after death.

It's looking more and more
likely he was smothered.

Hang on, there was no sign
of forced entry.

So doesn't that imply that
the killer was someone he knew?

Good point, Watson.

What about the note?

What does
your handwriting expert say?

Handwriting expert?

Evesham Police doesn't really
stretch to that kind of thing.

Oh. Something for us
to look into, then.

Ooh!

It's James.

Told you he'd know.

Oh, my God.
You'll never believe it.

It's a .50-cal shell
from a sniper rifle.

A Barrett M107?

Capable of effective fire
up to 1,800 meters.

Look, the type
a professional would use.

Professional what?

Assassin.

Position.

Your bodies should be like one.

Starting with a promenade
on the right.

Step, and over.

Cross.

Quick, quick, quick, boleo.

Very nice.

Quick, quick, into the ochos.

Twist, twist.

Twist through the hips.

Always go to dance classes
when you're grieving?

No.
Um, but I need the practice.

The party's back on
next weekend.

Oh.
Why all the rush?

Um, the marquee's still up.
People are still about.

And Tiggy's on one.

So you and your father

obviously weren't that close,
were you?

No.

But I still loved him.
I did.

It's just he didn't always
get things right, that's all.

Rubbish with money, mainly.

You know that he left a note?

Saying that he hoped
that you'd inherit

all of Cassandra's money.

Oh, well, I'd told him
that, um, me and Cass,

we'd sorted out
our wills already,

leaving everything to each other
if anything happened.

And change partners!

- Ah!
- Very nice.

Lines up and down.

Five, six, seven... and step.

You're rather good at this,
Charles.

It has been said.

Terrible business
up at the manor.

Oh, awful.
Mind you, you reap what you sow.

I've known them both for years.

The Laggat-Browns rub people up
the wrong way.

Change partners.

Some people seem
rather keen on it.

And walk.

Mm, not at the party
but at tango?

Not to mention your wife
forgetting to mention

your daughter's big day.

Trouble at paradise?

Hardly.
A misunderstanding, that's all.

Tiggy thought she'd told me.

Oh!

Ow. Well, that certainly
got the blood pumping.

I know.

Can't you just feel it
coursing through your loins?

I can't really feel anything,
I think it's my spine.

Thank you.
Ah!

I have an idea.

Seeing as the Laggat-Browns'
engagement party is back on,

I want to do a duet, and I think
you would be perfect.

Oh!
Really? Me?

No, no, I... I couldn't.

You would be in good hands.

And as for our newcomer...

Bravo!

Definitely the man of the class.

Never saw you as a man
of any hidden talents.

Or any talents, for that matter.

Where did you learn?

From watching George
at the engagement party.

Well, you weren't there.

No, but we requested
mobile-phone video

from some of the guests
at the party.

And some of them had footage
of George dancing.

I've watched it a hundred times.

No, but my favorite moment
is when they capture you

when you pushed...

Yes, yes, yes, yes!
All right.

Hold on.
Just scroll back.

When you pushed...

Stop.

At the moment the gun is fired,

the laser sight is not pointing
towards Cassandra.

It's Tiggy!

The shooter!

So if Tiggy is the target,

who wants her dead?

Apart from me.

Okay, everyone.
Spitball time.

Perry.

Sick of being disapproved of by
his soon-to-be mother-in-law.

Although Tiggy
really isn't that bad.

Don't you just love it
when she plays hardball?

Roy.

My money's on Jezza the hubster.

Marriage clearly made in hell.

Midlife crisis
written all over him.

Designer clothes.
Smells very trendy.

Ah, but he claims he was away.

I mean, thanks to James we now
know the hit wasn't some random.

It was professional,
carried out by an assassin.

Sorry.

Publisher.
Won't be a minute.

Well, it certainly gives Jeremy
a perfect alibi.

He hires a hit man
and then takes off.

Bam!

Bob's your uncle,
Fanny's your aunt.

What?
But why?

Why take yourself off
and attract suspicion?

I mean, if he's hired someone

to do all his dirty work
for him,

why not just stick around?

What if he inherits everything
when Tiggy dies?

Hmm?
Have we thought of that?

Roy?

Can we just...?

Flat white, sir?

Roy?

Have you been in touch
with financials?

Nothing, not as yet.
Not the full picture anyway.

Worst-case scenario,
end of play tomorrow.

At a push, first thing
in the morning.

Mm...

Later this afternoon?

A couple of hours should do it.

Okay, okay!
I'll call Bill now.

Hang on. We know the whole
suicide thing was fake, right?

Well, pill bottle clean,
pills forced down,

plus footage shows that
Tiggy was the target,

not Cassandra
like the note said.

Never a dollar short
or a day late, this one.

Why kill Harrison Peterson?

I mean, unless he knew
the shooter, of course.

We know that Perry has a motive

because Tiggy disliked him
and his father.

But why would he want to kill
his own father?

All right, picky.

Anyone else?

George?

Regrets selling?

Maybe he was forced to sell.

No, I can vouch for him.

Helen's death hit him
really hard.

He just wanted out of
the rat race, that's all.

I totes get that.

Plus Tiggy lets Felicity
hang around anyway.

Oh, we should check out
that flibberty Felicity.

Mm.
For shizzle.

What?

For sure.
I'll scope her out.

Or I could.
Since I know the family.

I like your thinking, Charles.

We will make a P.I.
out of you yet.

Right. You, I want you to
stay here and man the fort.

Or woman the fort or whatever.

Just, you know, concentrate on
finding, uh, the...

It's Red!

Dog.

We've identified the face
in the footage.

Well, that was quick.

I mean, is that some sort of
face-recognition thing?

No.
P.C. Tulloch once nicked him.

Johnny Sullivan,
known gun for hire.

But who would hire him?

Oh, we need to find
more about this Tiggy.

We've got men on it already.

We need to do it
quicker than that, Bill.

We need to do it now!

Right, everyone.
Herris Cum Magna pub right now.

And I want you to come with me.

- Marvelous.
- Yes!

Ah.
I see.

Ah!

My publisher's been
contacted by a Civil War expert

who wants to talk to me.

Oh, well, that's great news!

Snag is
he's only in London tonight,

and he's going abroad tomorrow.

I can't really leave you
alone here, can I?

Yes, you can.
I'll look after her.

We're like Cromwell's army,
aren't we?

Except, of course,
I'm a Cavalier.

Did I tell you I was related to
Charles II?

- Charles II. Yeah.
- Charles II. Yeah.

Well, that's that settled, then.

You must get the next train
out of here.

Hello?

Hi.

Just wondered if the vicar
was in by any chance.

No, I'm afraid not.
He's away. Mission work.

He'll be back very soon, though.
Just, heh, not yet.

I'm his wife.
Can I help?

I need to speak with someone.

Maybe there's another church?

No, not for miles.

Uh, you can talk to me
if you like.

A cup of tea?

Okay, everybody fan out.

Charles, conservatory.
Roy, saloon.

Toni, you and I
will take the bar.

I feel invigorated.

God, it's great to be alive.

Must be all that dancing.
Rush of blood to somewhere?

- Thanks for this.
- My pleasure.

- How can I help?
- Hmm?

Listen, about confidentiality...

Of course.

Anything you say will be
in complete confidence.

It's as if you were talking
to my husband.

I promise.

Okay.

It's just...

I have... I have something
to confess.

Chunky chips.

Okay, then, so, Tiggy...
Who wants to start?

Not hugely popular
in the village

on account of
her high-and-mighty,

hoity-toity demeanor.

- Don't you just hate that?
- Yeah.

Exacerbated by the fact
that she doesn't really belong.

Well, she needs to just get
over herself, doesn't she?

All Bill could tell me
about her financials

is that everything is registered
to a company

called CDF Cotswolds Ltd.

Ugh.
Dog food.

I think they're quite nice.

- No! Tiggy.
- Oh.

She's an actual
dog-food heiress.

Chunkies for real.

- Chunkies?!
- Mm.

- Chunkies?!
- Chunkies Dog Food.

Chunkies?!

CD... CDF.
Chunkies Dog Food.

- Chunkies?!
- Irish stock.

Her real name's Betty Ryan.

Dog food!

No wonder she's keeping that one
under her hat.

Charles, anything to offer?

Well, not really.

She's not what you think,
you know?

She's actually quite
vulnerable, insecure.

And she makes this
strange whimpering noise

whenever she makes love.

- Ugh!
- Who told you that?

- You didn't?
- Of course he has.

It was a one-off
on the glorious 12th.

Glorious it was.

Why didn't you tell us
this before?

I assumed that you could find
out these things for yourselves.

What, that she makes
a strange whimpering...

Oh, no, no, no, no...

Anyway, you knew that
her marriage wasn't perfect.

Well, we didn't know
it had been "Fraithed."

The strangest thing, though...

I think that
she still loves Jeremy.

She was just using me
to get his attention.

She tossed me like a wet rag
when she was done.

All right, well,
on that note, then,

I'll go and have a quick word
with her, shall I?

Okay.

You all right, Roy?