Bergerac (1981–1991): Season 7, Episode 4 - The Other Woman - full transcript

So it's all square and one to play.

(Laughs ) All depending
on the last, eh, Frankie boy?

Don't let that put you off, though.

No, I won't.

I hope you brought
your chequebook with you.

Oh, lucky. Very lucky.

Erm... Sorry, sorry.

Go on. Go, go, go.

Oh, no. Stop, stop, stop.

- Bloomin' Ada.
- (Laughs )

That's two.



That was a practice shot
from behind the bunker.

I'm watching you, Charlie.

That's two.

How's it look?

Perfect.

(Laughs ) Oh, good.

Oh.

Hey, FArank, quick, come over here.

(Helicopter)

(Woman ) There's blood by the dune
and the grass is flattened downhill.

He was probably hit from behind
then rolled down here,

then hit again a couple of times to make sure,
dragged the last couple of yards and buried.

- Was he robbed, Ben?
- Well, his wallet hasn't been touched.

His name's Graham Hawkesworth.



- When did it happen?
- Some time last night.

There's no rigor.

- What sort of weapon?
- Well, my money's on a mashie niblick.

- A what?
- Golf club.

Thank you, Miss Bonham.

- Who found the body?
- (Sighs )

Who else?

Oh, dear.

(Police radio )

(Siren )

Charlie. You really do have a knack
for this, don't you?

What's it coming to, Jim?
I mean, what is it coming to?

A fella goes out to play a quiet game of golf
on a Sunday afternoon

and this is what he finds.

Graham Hawkesworth.
Where do I know that name from?

- Kiss Me.
- Eh?

He wrote Kiss Me. He was a playwright.

- I'll get you a drink.
- I could do with one.

You must have liked him a lot.

- Everybody did.
- Ha! Somebody didn't.

I can't think who. He had friends
all over the world.

(Bergerac) Er, large Scotch, please.

- Well-off, was he?
- I don't know.

His wife inherited the house.
His royalties must have kept him comfortable.

Do you know Mrs Hawkesworth?

Only by reputation.

What do you mean, reputation?

You are the detective.

(Inaudible )

(Seagulls cry in distance )

Would you mind telling me where you were
on Saturday evening, please?

I was at home. I was baking.

- You were alone?
- Yes.

A couple of people phoned.

Henry Morant, for one, the vicar.

- What time was that? Can you remember?
- Oh, er, say 9:30.

And, er, forgive me.
You last saw your husband at...?

Round about eight.
Like I said, he went out for a walk.

- You should keep this locked up, you know?
- I will.

I just can't get rid of the idea that there
might still be some stranger out there.

It doesn't have to be a stranger, does it?

Oh, it couldn't have been anyone we knew.

He was such a kind man.

How could anyone who knew him
do a thing like that?

Well, someone who's jealous.

What do you mean?

Of his success.

He wasn't that successful.

What did he do in his spare time?

(Sighs ) Nothing much.

He kept in touch with everyone.

He had lots of friends.

(Bergerac) Could we have
all his personal correspondence?

Yes, of course. It's all in here.

And in here.

- Little job for you, Ben.
- I did warn you.

- There are some empty boxes out in the hall.
- Thank you.

I'm sorry to ask this but, er, we've gotta know.

- How were things between you two?
- FAine, fine.

No, actually, that's not true.

Graham was having an affair.

Oh, really?

Do you know who with?

I don't know.

It was a principle of our marriage, I suppose,
that we didn't ask that sort of question.

Er, how long had this been going on?

Since about Christmas.

Oh, I knew he'd come back to me eventually.

In fact, this last month, before he was...

before his death, he said he was trying
to end it between them.

And how did the lady take that?

You mean, you really don't know who she is?

She lives on this side of the island.

She has a job because he never
saw her during the day.

And there were other complications.

A husband, a lover.

Really, it's such a small place, it would
have been too painful to know any more.

The first blow produced a bruise
on the back of the skull.

Nonfatal but it might have knocked him out.

The second blow killed him.
Massive depressed fracture of the left temple.

So the third was almost certainly superfluous.

A nasty blow at the right orbit
involving the nose and maxilla.

So what are we looking for?

The laceration looks like some kind
of blunt metal blade.

It's not the right shape for an axe

but it could be the spade
they used to bury him.

Good case for primary intent.

What about the attacker?

Right-handed, under five foot ten.

Not much force in the upswing.

- FAemale?
- Possible.

Have you got a more precise time of death?

As precise as I can be,
between nine and ten pm.

OK.

There's just one more question.

What's a nice girl like you doing
in a job like this, eh?

I was crossed in love.

Who's that?

Well, the one with the beard
is Mr Hawkesworth.

And the one without the beard?

That's Mrs Hawkesworth.

- He looks lovely.
- Not any more, he doesn't.

- I'm looking for a woman.
- (Willy) Aren't we all?.

Wondered what the tie was for.

She's got a job and probably lives
on the west coast.

- Star sign?
- (Crozier) Come on, Harry.

You know the score as well as I do.

As soon as there's something definite,
we'll let you know, OK?

Yeah, OK. Cheers.

- (Phone )
- (Sighs ) Oh.

- That the press?
- Yeah, and how.

- Well, there's probably a woman involved.
- Oh, bloody hell. Hold the front page.

Well, if you want me, I'll be in church.

Jim, do we include this one?

Nah.

(Priest) He invested his own lie
with the zest and imagination

which typiied his theatrical writing.

One meets, perhaps, a handul o people in
one's lie who one can call truly inspirational

and, or me, Graham Hawkesworth
was one o those.

Sergeant Bergerac, have you got
any leads on this case?

I know there are many people here
who share this sentiment.

Bonnie has asked me to thank you
or attending this ceremony

and hopes you will understand
that she doesn't yet eel strong enough

to greet you all in person.

( # Organ playing, choirboy singing)

(Crying)

- Mr Morant?
- I said no comment.

- I'm not press, I'm police.
- I see.

It's in connection with Graham Hawkesworth.
You were a friend of his?

- Yes. Yes, I was.
- Mrs Hawkesworth said that you phoned her

on the night of the murder.

Yes, that's right, at about 9:30.

I caught her in the middle of baking a cake,
so she had to phone me back.

- How well do you know her?
- Bonnie? Well enough. Why?

A friend of mine said she,
er, had a reputation.

Yes, well, there's some truth in that.

What sort of reputation?

An attractive woman, Sergeant,
with a slightly older husband.

I'm sure I don't have to spell it out.

- You look rather disappointed.
- Er, no, no. Surprise, really.

She didn't strike me like that at all.

People are rarely what they seem.

I'd have thought that was a central tenet
of your profession.

Did she go with anyone in particular?

- Just anyone.
- Yourself excluded, eh?

(Laughs ) Of course. I'm gay.

Oh. I'm sorry.

It's not something I apologise for.

Mrs Hawkesworth said
that Graham had a lover, too.

- Don't happen to know who, do you?
- No.

So much for the perfect marriage.

I don't know. It was a much more creative
relationship that most people enjoy.

There was love there and passion.

As soon as Graham got involved elsewhere,
Bonnie became feverishly monogamous.

I suppose that's fairly basic psychology.

Are you married, Sergeant Bergerac?

Used to be.

Then you'll know.

Erm, excuse me.

- (Bergerac) Hi.
- Great timing.

Nearly finished.

- Susan.
- Mm?

Your name is in Graham Hawkesworth's
address book.

Who?

Graham Hawkesworth.
The murdered man on the golf course?

Oh.

Well, you said you'd never met him.

Did I? Well, maybe I did meet him.

Susan, this is important.

(Sighs ) Hawkesworth.

Oh, yes. I remember.

It was at a party or something.

Well, you know how you get drunk and start
handing out your number to complete strangers.

- No.
- Well, I do.

Oh, er, do the thingy, will you?

If you're getting rid of those, I'll have 'em.

Getting rid of them? They're my entry
for the flower show.

- Aren't they a bit small?.
- Size isn't everything, you know? Excuse me.

Did you know that Graham Hawkesworth
had a lover, too?

Aye. Matter of fact,
it was, er, my suggestion.

What?

I told him he ought to find himself
a fancy woman.

That wife of his had been giving him
the run-around for long enough.

It was pathetic. She was destroying him.
I had him round here a couple of times in tears.

So, eventually, I said to him,
''Look, Graham,'' I said,

''I know that Bonnie is a fine looking woman

''but there's plenty more where she came from
and it's time you had a bit of fun for a change.''

And it worked, too.
Took ten years off him.

So who was this other woman?

Well, if I knew that, I mean, I might
ask her round here myself, eh?

(Both laugh)

Hello. I'm afraid there's no one in just now

but if you'd like to leave a message
for Graham or...

Hello. There's no one in just now

but if you'd like to leave a message
for Bonnie Hawkesworth,

please speak after the tone.

(Beep)

Right, so we have Hawkesworth
on his way home between nine and ten,

takes a short cut through the golf course.

It's getting dark.

The attacker's waiting for him here,

assaults him here
and makes his way off this way.

The scent on the path goes cold here.
So what else is there?

- Those footprints are a possible.
- So we're still looking for a woman?

- Yeah.
- Or a man with small feet.

Unlike yourself. How are you getting on
with those letters?

Slowly.

What about fibres?

Nothing brilliant. Some brown, human hair
on Hawkesworth's jacket, probably a woman's.

How many brown-haired maidens
on your list, Willy?

- FAive possibles. Six, counting Susan.
- Counting who?

Susan. Susan Young.
Her name was in the address book, too.

- So?
- So we ignored it.

I think we should discuss this, don't you?

Sorry, Jim.

OK. That's all.

OK, she's got brown hair and size seven feet.
Where's the firing squad?

(Crozier) I'm not laughing.
There's lots of stuff you can do.

- You can't be serious?
- You know the rules about conflict of interests.

- What conflict of interests? It's...
- Susan's on the suspect list

- and you're off the case.
- I put the television people in there, sir.

Thank you, Peggy.
I'll interview the suspects myself.

You don't have the time.
You know you need me on this case.

Yes, I know I do, but I don't need
a banana skin when we take it to court.

There are too many people watching this one.

(Distant siren )

(Laughs ) You what? You must be joking.

I wish I were. Ah, it's just
an unlucky coincidence.

- Don't let it worry you.
- I'm not worried.

Oh, Mr Punch, come and say hello
to the boys and girls.

Oh, where's the sausages?

- Oh, Mr Punch, don't you hit me.
- (Children laughing)

My mother was right. I'm going home to...

- All the same.
- What?

You ought to have your alibi ready.

Why, Sergeant Bergerac,
I thought you were on my side.

It's not a question of sides. You could be asked
questions and you need to rehearse your alibi.

OK?

(Mr Punch) She really is. Oh, what a pity.

You mean, you want to know
where I was that night.

- It's not for me, Susan.
- No, no, no. I don't mind.

- No, honestly.
- (Susan ) I'd like to.

Come on, give me the day.

It was last Saturday night,
er, between nine and ten.

- Date?
- 17th.

- I was at the Northern Rocks Hotel.
- Good. Who were you with?

No one. Bloody client never showed.

Who was this client?

Mills? Hills? Can't read my own writing.

But it'll be in the office diary.

- Happy?
- Oh, ecstatic.

( #Joan Armatrading.. Love And Aection )

# I am not in love

# But I'm open to persuasion

# East or West

# Where's the best or romancing

# With a riend

# I can smile

# But with a lover
I could hold my head back

# I could really laugh, really laugh

# Thank you

# You took me dancing

'Cross the loor

# Cheek to cheek

# But with a lover I could really move,
really move

# I could really dance,
really dance, really dance, really dance

# I could really move,
really move, really move, really move

# Now i I can eel the sun

# In my eyes
and the rain on my ace

- # Why can't I eel... #
- (Bergerac) Happy?

(Susan ) Mm. Just like old times.

# ..love... #

FAunny, isn't it? That we get on
so well now that...

Now that what?

Now that it's almost over.

What's almost over?

Us.

- Pardon?
- (Laughs ) You don't see it, do you?

You're so good at all that detective stuff
but when it comes to relationships...

What is all this? I mean, we're getting on
famously, aren't we?

And why's that?

Because I don't put any pressure on you.

Maybe...

because I don't love you so much.

I always needed you
more than you needed me.

I don't think you ever understood
what a terrible burden that can be.

I think we should discuss this, erm...

lying down.

Smooth. Very smooth.

My place or yours?

(Engine revving)

Try driving forward.

Now what?

I dunno.

Do these seats recline?

(Laughs ) No way.

(Bergerac) OK. Try it again.

(Engine revving, tyres spinning)

No, no. Stop.

- You got your spade?
- What?

- The one with no handle.
- Yeah, under the rug.

No, it isn't.

Yes, it is.

That's odd.

D'you think the tide's coming in?

(Woman ) No, the name
doesn't mean anything.

Do you recognise her?

No, I don't.

But she could have gone
straight through to the bar.

If you'd like to check directly with the barman.

Yeah, sure. Thank you.

( # Piano playing)

Ah, excuse me, Bureau des ?trangers.

- Do you recognise that woman?
- No, I'm sorry.

Could you take a look at it, please?

Excuse. She was in here
last Saturday evening.

- No.
- You sure?

Positive.

Drink?

(Charlie ) Mind you, she always
did have a bit of a temper.

(Bergerac) Yes, but not enough
to beat a man to death.

(Laughing) She had you
on the ropes once or twice.

This is not helping me.

Now, now, look here, Jim.

I don't think she did it,
you don't think she did it...do you?

- I told you, no. No, I don't.
- So why are you keeping me up half the night?

And what does she say?

She says it's rubbish and I believe her.

99 per cent.

Well, I'm no detective and I know
damn all about women

but I've been investing money for 20 years
or more and it's taught me this,

if you're confused about something, it's usually
because you haven't got enough information.

Know what I mean?

Yeah. Right.

Thanks, Charlie.

Oh, er, any luck with your pinks?

No. You were right. Too small.

( # Verdi: La Donna ? Mobile )

(Doorbell)

- I'm Sergeant Bergerac from...
- Ah, yes. I was expecting you.

- Come in.
- Thank you. Thank you very much.

Yes, I know exactly where I was that night.

I take a life class every Saturday,
eight till ten.

- So you knew him quite well?.
- Yes, quite well.

In fact, I rang him that same evening
during our coffee break.

Do you think that was psychic?

- What did he say?
- He wasn't home.

Bonnie answered in the middle of baking.
She said she'd ring back.

Ah, here he is.

I suppose I'll never finish him now.

Dear Graham.

Were you...ever his lover?

(Laughs )

- What are you laughing at?
- Well, you obviously never met him.

He was a charming man but not at all...
not at all like that.

I can't ever imagine him having an affair.

Well, he certainly had the looks.

You know, I often felt
that was his greatest burden.

He was much less confident
than you would expect.

I heard tell he was very popular.

Not really. He made a great thing
about keeping up with people

but that's often a symptom
of loneliness, isn't it?

A face like that attracts acquaintances,

all those hail-fellow-well-met types.

Henry Morant got pretty close to him, I think.

- Ah.
- Oh, no. Come on, now, please.

If he did have a lover, what sort of woman
would she be, do you think?

I really can't imagine.

Well, think of Bonnie. Someone strong,
independent, fiery, unpredictable.

- Is that any help?
- No.

But thanks very much.

- Well, that's about it.
- My pleasure.

I'll see myself out.

- Have you ever thought of sitting?
- I'm sorry?

FAor a portrait?
You have a very interesting face.

Do I? Well, I'll think about it.

- What the hell are you doing here?
- Social call. She wants to paint my portrait.

Don't give me that. I told you to stay off
this case. It's like a red rag to a bull.

I'm worried about Susan. Is that all right?

If it's any comfort,
Susan's at the bottom of my list.

No, it isn't. You know what the press are like.

Do you realise what this could do
to her career?

Look, I know what it could do
to your career, sunshine.

I'm not gonna tell you again.
You're off this case. Off. Do you understand?

Oi.

- She's got a watertight alibi, that one.
- Are you still here?

(Phone )

Peggy, when's Barney due back?

After lunch.

Why? What's the matter? Is it important?

Yeah.

Ah. Well, I'll let him know.

(Dog barks in distance )

- Hello, Mrs Hawkesworth.
- Hello.

I felt I had to see where it happened.

May I ask you a personal question, please?

They've all been asked.

- Did you love him?
- Yes, of course.

Then why did you, er...

If that were the case,
why were you so, erm...

- Promiscuous?
- Yeah.

I don't know.

When I was in therapy... Oh, don't look
so alarmed. It's not that unusual.

..I was told it was insecurity,

negative body image.

I was anorexic as a child.
I understand the two go together.

But you did love your husband?

Yes, of course.

Then you must have known
that you were hurting him.

Yes.

Well, no.

I mean, I don't think I knew
what jealousy felt like until Graham started...

with that woman.

Then I realised how horrible it can be.

- Were you angry with him?
- Angry enough to kill him?

I didn't say that.

It's what you meant.

And the answer is yes.

I was.

But I didn't.

Get it over to FAorensic, will you?
I want a full report.

(Siren fades )

- I've got a theory.
- I'm not listening.

- Come on, Barney.
- I can't hear you.

- How come no one...?
- I can't hear you.

- How come no one found that spade before?
- They missed it. It happens.

- Suppose someone planted it afterwards?
- Like who? The other woman?

Well, like his wife, even. Listen,
she was a very, very jealous woman, OK?

Jealous of who? Who was her husband
splitting up with? Whose spade is that?

- I don't know.
- Well, I do.

Ben found these in Graham Hawkesworth's
personal correspondence.

- Are you sure he wrote 'em?
- Handwriting are pretty certain.

- They've enough to compare them with.
- It doesn't make sense.

- Why keep copies of your own love letters?
- Well, what else makes sense round here?

Why beat a man to death? Why bury him
where any bloody fool can find him?

Susan didn't do it.

(Susan ) What are you doing?

Erm, I'm, er, looking for something.

What?

Some letters.

This is my desk. You can't do that.

Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry.

What letters? There aren't any letters.

No, not here.

Oh, I see. Where else would you like to look?

The office? The car? Here take my keys.

Don't stop now that you've started.

Susan. Susan.

Look at me. Come on, look at me.

Now tell me, truthfully,
did you ever write a letter,

any letter, to Graham Hawkesworth?

Now come on, answer the question.

No, I didn't.

Did you ever receive a letter from him?

No. Why should I have?

Your spade has turned up.

- Where?
- Near to the scene of the crime.

It could be the murder weapon.

It's the last thing I wanted to find.
I was looking for something to clear you.

Clear me?

I told you, I was at the hotel.

The people there don't remember you.

- I don't believe this. What's going on here?
- Well, I don't know.

But if you feel there's something
you ought to tell me.

Of course there isn't. What should
I have to tell you? I didn't do it.

I didn't do it!

How can you even suggest it, Jim?

Why...?

- Why don't you believe me?
- I do.

I do

but we have to convince the chief inspector.

You saw the spade?

Yes.

Is it yours?

Yes.

There are still some traces
of blood on the blade.

A positive. The same as Graham Hawkesworth.

Someone must have stolen it.

I never lock the boot of my car.

Hawkesworth wrote these letters
to a woman called Susan.

Not me.

They were having an affair.
He wanted to end it.

I didn't even know him.

You met him once at a party.

(Scoffs ) One drunken night.

- Is that yes?
- OK, yes.

I met him. It was a party.
You must have met people at parties?

- What kind of party?
- What are you...?

I don't know. I don't remember.

Try.

What kind of party do you want,
Barney? A cocktail party?

A toga party? Do you want me to tell you
it was an orgy? Is that what you want?

I don't want anything.
I'm not enjoying this either.

Oh, yes you are.

You're loving it.

This is not personal.
Just answer my questions, please.

You've accused me of killing
a secret lover with a spade.

- Is that personal, or what?
- I have not accused you of anything.

I am just trying to help you, Susan.

Help me to what, Barney?

Help me to confess?
You'd love that, wouldn't you?

You'd love to hear me say I did it.

You can't imagine a greater kick.

That's why you're here, in at the kill.

All right. Let's try again
in the morning, shall we?

- Mr Morant. I'm from the Post.
- Really?

- Look, I told you people, speak to his wife.
- We have done already.

You know that a woman's
been taken in for questioning?

No. Who?

Apparently, there were letters
between her and Mr Hawkesworth.

Do you have any comment on that?

No. No, I don't.

Be fair. He bent the rules for you.

He still thinks I did it.

I want to talk to Hawkesworth's wife.

- What good would that do?
- Well, that's the problem.

- She must think I'm the other woman, too.
- She's never mentioned you.

- She doesn't even know you.
- Don't you think it's about time she did?

- No.
- Who are you trying to protect? Her or me?

I am just trying to think, OK?
I am just trying to think.

Now, let's look at this.

Someone planted the spade, OK?

And then made the bogus appointment
at the hotel.

- And...
- And the letters?

(Phone )

Bergerac.

I'm sorry, who is this?

Yeah, all right. Er, where?

OK. On my way.

I'm sorry, Sue.
Look, I've gotta go out for a bit.

You gonna be all right?

Trust me. It's gonna be fine.

OK?

(Bergerac) So who was the real lover?

Well, that's the thing.

There was no lover.

- Well, there was a murderer, that's for sure.
- All I know is Susan Young wasn't involved.

She was just a...a character Graham invented.

How do you mean, invented?

Graham wanted a lover.

Well, he didn't want one.

He wasn't in love with anyone
except Bonnie but...

Someone suggested that it might be an idea,
just to, to shake her up a bit.

So Graham briefly met
this woman, Susan Young,

and invented an affair with her,

purely for Bonnie's benefit.

He spent the odd evening out,
at my place, as it happens,

wrote love letters for Bonnie to discover.

- Did she?
- What?

Did she discover the letters?

Oh, yes.

And she knew who Susan was?

(Sighs ) She must have done.

Hello. I'm Susan Young.

There was absolutely nothing
between your husband and me,

you have to believe that.

- I'm sorry. I don't.
- Can we at least talk?

- Why didn't you tell me the first time?
- It didn't seem relevant.

Didn't it occur to you and Graham
that his wife might be pushed too far?

Who, Bonnie? Oh, come on now.

Your own words.
''People are rarely what they seem''?

Really, I don't know
where all of this has come from.

We weren't even friends.

- Then why did he try to protect you?
- Protect me from whom?

FArom me.

He knew I couldn't cope with it.

I suppose you suffer more
when you've been unfaithful yourself.

You can imagine too much.

I couldn't bear the thought
of Graham doing that...

with you.

(Morant) I told you,
Bonnie was at home that night.

I was actually on the phone to her.
In fact, she'd asked me to call.

She'd asked you to call, had she?
She could have left you a recording.

No. She talked to me.

She said something about baking a cake
and could she call me back, then...

Then she rang off, eh, immediately?

Well, yes.

Sheila King got exactly the same answer.

The nights Graham spent away from home,
I felt physically ill with unhappiness.

- Do you know that feeling?
- Nothing happened.

- Not with me.
- Do you?

Yes.

I wonder if you do.

I hadn't until then.

It's as if your insides have been ripped out

and all you're left with is this terrible vacuum.

Graham knew what he was putting me through.

Been there.

That was why I hated him.

I thought you said you loved him?

Well, it's just the other side of the coin,
isn't it?

I mean, we all feed each other
this nonsense about romantic love

but everybody knows it's a fight to the death,

except that some couples manage
to make it spin it out for a lifetime.

So much easier to get it over with
quickly, don't you think?

You did it?

You set me up?

Now, why Sergeant Bergerac
never twigged that...

Do you think he's got a girlfriend?

Yes.

Me.

Oh.

So you see, in the end,
he'll never believe you,

ever. No one will.

You think not?

Even if you're not around to persuade them?

I don't see how anyone
could possibly blame me.

(Tyres screech)

My husband's murderess
coming to taunt me.

(Gunshot)

Open up! Police!

Police.

Police. Open the door! Police.

- Jim!
- Sue. Susan.

Susan, are you all right?

(Susan gasps ) Jim, it's locked!

She's got a gun!

I can't get out!

Jim!

(Bonnie screams )

(Thud)

(Morant) And so are we deceived

Who vainly strive by jealous ears

To keep our lames alive

Love's like a torch

Which, i secured rom blasts,

Will aintlier burn but then it longer lasts

Exposed to storms o jealousy and doubt

The blaze grows greater
but 'tis sooner out