Grantchester (2014–…): Season 6, Episode 3 - Episode #6.3 - full transcript

Leonard Finch?

If you could follow me.

Just Mr Finch.

It's gonna be fine.

A serious allegation has been
made that, on Friday 29 August

at approximately 10:15pm,

you were seen engaging in an act
of gross indecency with another man

at the Merries Holiday Camp.

Did you attend Merries dance
hall on the evening in question?

You know that I...

Yes.



Did you leave the hall
around ten to ten,

then go back to your own chalet?
I can't quite recall the time.

Did you, in fact, meet a man,
then spend the night with him?

I can't... quite recall...

No.

Well, yes.

I-I mean to say, I did meet Mr
Davenport. We shared a room.

Twin beds. He came back later.

This is you, correct?

So, who's this fella?

Oh, erm...

I'm not really...
Really not sure.

You seem very familiar with him.

Are you a homosexual, Mr Finch?



I have nothing more to say.

You told me I'm not
obliged to say anything.

What about Daniel Marlowe?
Photographer from your village.

Allegation's it's him
you were in bed with.

So he's bent an'
all? All right.

I have nothing more to say.

We're gonna have to do
this the hard way, then.

Thank you, Leonard.
That's all for now.

Leonard. I'm a fool.
You're no fool.

One who thought for a
minute he was in paradise,

when he was really
paving the road to hell.

Daniel said, "Don't give them
anything," and that's what you did.

I'm going for a cinnamon
bun, a hot cocoa

and a stroll on Midsummer
Common. In that order.

We've got an appointment.
No, I don't think so.

Give my best to the Archdeacon,

but his feelings on the
matter are very clear.

And I've had all the
incandescent disappointment

I can take from Mrs C.

Good morning, Mr Lowell!

Dahlias are looking
lovely this year.

Oh, thank you. Have
you a minute to talk?

Might I give you one of these?

Hey!

Damn you! So much for a fair
and democratic competition.

Morning, Reeny. Well, you'd think
it was a race to the bottom,

not to parish
council. It's hard.

Derek's death seems to have
galvanised his critics.

Your husband would be proud to
see you follow in his footsteps.

Well, it is getting lively,
for a village by-election.

I find it rather encouraging to
see people throw their energy

into local politics.

And when the competition do it, you
know you've got them on the run!

It's like I always say:
capital begets capital and...

Reverend! Come
and hear the word!

And what word is that, Mr
St Martin? Maurice, please.

The word is morality. Your
area of expertise, no?

The way I see it, each generation
has its great struggle.

And if the last one's was a
literal fight for their lives

against a foreign evil, then ours
is with the evil in our own hearts,

the everyday morality.

I couldn't agree more.
And do you think, Vicar,

that morality has its part
to play in local government?

I think it has a part to play
in every aspect of our lives.

Exactly. The council has a moral
duty to help local businesses!

Shouldn't my cousin Phillip have
the right to build on his own land,

without waiting
months for permission?

Can't Mrs Bedwell be allowed to
sell Christmas trees from her shop?

As a businessman, I know that
we thrive on entrepreneurship.

And that is why the next
council must cut the red tape

and let loose that great
British enterprising spirit!

That's it for now.
Thank you all! Reverend.

I can understand if you
have reservations about me,

our paths having rarely crossed.

But I hope you can see we're
cut from the same cloth.

I really must remain impartial.

Of course! But there
is the more, er,

delicate matter of our dear
departed chairman, Derek McArthur.

You were there, I gather?

When they fished him
out of the water.

To commit suicide does make
you wonder if he wasn't...

capable of committing
other things.

Could be the tip of the iceberg.

Hmm, or idle gossip.

Muck raking for publicity,
if I were being harsh.

We need strong leadership, Vicar.
Every flock needs its shepherd.

Come along, Maurice.
Busy schedule today, eh?

Good to see you both talking.

Hm.

Where's Leonard? Er,
he's just in town.

They kept him in? No, no,
he had a prior engagement.

A prior engagement?!

I see Reeny called.

As if I have time to natter away
with every Tom, Dick and Harry

that comes calling.

I thought you and Jack
liked the McArthurs?

Drumming up support in
her mourning clothes.

It's wanton luridness!

It's hardly the dance
of the Seven Veils.

And anyone who can win a
lovely legs competition

is in no position to judge.

Reeny's certainly a
progressive thinker.

Taking a reformist stance.

Liberal views on tolerance.
And look where that gets you.

You're angry because of Leonard.

I'd put more stock in
that St Martin chap.

Get us back to
proper family values.

I'm pretty sure
Maurice's moral compass

points whichever
way the wind blows.

Oh, smarten yourself up
before the Archdeacon arrives!

THUD

Not your first time
in here, then, Mr Marlowe.

No. Questioned about
a dead teenager.

Nudey photos and a poisoning.

And?

On the evening in question, did
you join Mr Finch in his chalet?

No.

Did you engage in gross
indecency with Mr Finch?

No. That's absurd.

Where were you that evening
at quarter past ten?

I went out to the main
hall from about seven,

danced with the
Inspector's wife,

and I was back in my
own chalet by ten.

I slept through to dawn.

Have you ever seen Mr
Finch with another man? No.

But I'm only an acquaintance.
Who went on holiday with him.

I went on holiday with my
friend Reverend Davenport.

And the Chapmans, who I've known
since I photographed their wedding.

Well, we'll be in touch if
we have any more questions.

Mm-hm?

You forgot your lunch, love.

You left in a bit of
a hurry. Thank you.

You had a right face
on this morning.

In fact, you still have.

Leonard's gonna be OK, isn't he?

Well, Larry's got the bit
between his teeth on this one.

Thinks I'm a soft touch.

Of all the things the
police could be doing.

It's barely a crime!
Except it is, Cathy.

And I have sent men down for it.

We all knew of Mr Finch's...

peculiarities.

But there's knowing
what he is...

..and allowing him
to act upon it.

I had hoped that you
would have guided him away

from such temptations.

Don't we have a duty to save
people from living a lie?

This situation has gone
too far. And too public.

If these allegations
are proved to be true,

then the church
cannot defend him.

Whose business is it...? What
do you hope to achieve, William?

You really want to bang this
drum, wearing that collar,

and publicly challenge
the law of the land?

I understand if you
cannot speak up.

But I am... You have
a role to play here,

in Grantchester.

If you wish to remain
part of this ministry,

you will cooperate
with the police.

Tell them the truth.

The church is not above the law.

How did it go with
the Archdeacon?

Ahh... fine. Really?

He's, er... he's
concerned. Am I out?

I'm out, aren't I? No!

No, this is all gonna blow over
and then everything will be fine.

Was he angry at my absence?
Leonard, it's gonna be OK.

Will, could I have
a word, please?

This arrived for Derek today.
It's from a property firm in Hove.

Confirming acceptance on Derek's
purchase of some holiday home.

Well, I don't follow. Why
would he secretly organise this

if he knew he was going
to... end his own life?

People in his situation often
do contradictory things.

I understand that.
But that's not Derek.

I never really believed
him capable of what he did.

I had to accept it,
but... now this.

This wasn't suicide, Will.

It was murder.

It's an open and shut case:

Derek McArthur drowned
himself here a few weeks back.

He left that note on the bank,
inside his jacket pocket.

Happily married,
chairman of the council,

well respected in the village.

It just doesn't add
up. Or maybe it does.

Sometimes, it's just a
man who ran out of rope.

And another man trying to distract
himself from his curate's crimes.

Maybe. Why didn't you
come to me about Leonard?

I thought I had
it under control.

Well, you didn't. And
what would you have done?

Intimidated Bryan? Blackmail
is an offence, Will.

We could've had this
Bryan fella in for that.

Instead, I'm having to
grill bloody Leonard!

Whose explanation is wafer thin,

and one wrong word
from another witness...

A charge will mean a trial.
Where all this is laid bare.

Why does the law care
what he does in private?

He was happy and in love.
We have to fight for that.

You're not that bloody naive.

The only fight left is for you to
come in and say you knew nothing.

Or better yet...
give him an alibi.

Oh, right. Yeah, lie under oath

to hide Leonard from a
stupid, outdated law.

I can't do that, Geordie. It goes
against everything I believe in.

You tell the truth,
and he's done for.

As I said to your officers
before, it's Derek's handwriting,

without a doubt. Mm-hm.

Was he always so pithy?

Not judging by some of the
annual parish meetings.

It was one of the
oddities about his death.

He wrote tirelessly to
constituents and on council matters

ever since his war days. Is
that where you met? In the war?

Have you heard of
Operation Mincemeat?

We managed to fool the
Germans into thinking

we were going to invade the
Balkans using just a dead tramp,

an officer's uniform
and some faked papers.

Did he have any enemies? Derek
had an ability to be liked.

Even when he wasn't
always easy to live with.

Sorry, didn't realise
you had company.

Oh, Robert, come in. Robert
Waterhouse is an old friend.

Will's kindly asked Inspector
Keating to look into Derek's death.

Ah, you knew Derek well?

In our youth... and these last
few weeks after coming to visit.

Erm, I was basing
a character on him.

I'm an author. It was
for my next novel.

All feels very
inappropriate now.

I've been able to lean on him
for help with the election.

Well, hardly.

I hand out leaflets, she's
the one being righteous

and brilliant and
changing the world.

D'you think Derek was capable
of taking his own life?

Inspector, I imagine you and
I both spend a lot of time

trying to get into other people's
heads. Lining up the plots.

But truthfully, I don't
think anyone really knows

what goes on inside
another man's mind.

You said he wrote tirelessly
to his constituents.

Could we see any of the letters?

I mean who files carbon copies
of their correspondence?

Who files their correspondence?

Well, haven't found any
evidence of a falling out,

but if I read one more complaint

about traffic measures
in the high street...

So, there's a chain
of letters here

relating to a drainage issue
in a property down by the Cam.

A Mr Eric Pritchard
getting rather tetchy.

I'll raise you an Elsie Bedwell,
moaning about the bleating sheep.

In this last letter, Derek
shuts down Pritchard's complaint

by saying, "I'm sorry. There's
nothing more to be done."

It's the same words
from the suicide note.

Handwriting's a match as well.
It's the exact same letter.

It's not a suicide
note. It never was.

Derek sends this to
Eric Pritchard...

Who cuts out this
particular phrase,

slips it into Derek's pocket...
And pushes him in the water.

I thought this place was empty.

Mrs C said the owner
moved on years ago.

Mr Pritchard?

No big pile of post.

Someone had to be coming here
to collect Derek's letters.

The someone who started a
correspondence with him,

to elicit a letter that
sounded like a suicide note.

All sounds a bit elaborate.
It's murder, Geordie.

By someone who knew Derek.
Knew this place was empty.

It's someone in the village.

Do a few common factors
underpin all good fiction?

A hero's quest, a
decisive crisis...

a changed status quo?

Well, I like to think
it's not the universal,

but more the personal stories
that really chime the strongest.

Hello, Will... Inspector.

I'm guessing you're not
here for the book club.

Er, we're just checking
on some parish business.

Oh, of course.

Oh, bloody hell,

they'll have you in the
village stocks for this.

All the minutes from
the last 12 months.

If Derek caused any grievances
at the council, it'll be here.

It's quite the cast of characters
you have here, Reverend.

Well, I get the feeling

we're all gonna be in one
of your books one day.

Well, I promise I'll be kind.
Er, did I sense some, er,

reluctance from Reeny
when I called earlier?

I think she'd hoped you'd
look into it discretely.

A policeman calls on a candidate
two days before a vote.

Ah. I was, er... I was just
trying to do the right thing.

Oh, and you did! Inaction
would be far worse.

Here we go. Give us a minute,
would you, Mr Waterhouse?

Planning applications this year.

Denied three times. All
made by Phillip St Martin.

Maurice St Martin's cousin.
Lot of money lost out on.

It's like you said: it's
someone who knew Derek

and knows this village.

So, what do you say, Phillip?

Must have been frustrating

that Derek was blocking
your planning applications.

Extremely.

It's no secret that Derek
and I never saw eye-to-eye.

How so?

I believe in investing
in local businesses

and letting us get on
with it. Derek didn't.

But if you're suggesting

that his death was in
some way suspicious...

I am.

Look, Derek could be a pain,

but councillors come
and go every few years.

I'm a patient man. Truth is,
I found a much better revenge.

And what's that? Maurice.

Running for office.

Can you think of a more perfect
grenade to roll into the council?

I was with my husband
in the main hall.

We attended the dance
and stayed for a drink.

Did you see Mr Finch
leave the dance hall?

No, I did not.

Oh, so you didn't see if Mr
Marlowe left with Mr Finch?

No, I did not. So, would
it be fair to say that

as far as you're aware, Mr Finch
went back to his chalet alone?

"The integrity of the
upright guides them,

"but the unfaithful are
destroyed by their duplicity."

Have you ever seen Mr Finch
show affection for another man?

Mrs Chapman?

No. What did you
see, Mrs Chapman?

You wouldn't want to pervert
the course of justice now.

I don't think Mrs... No. Or
obstruct our investigation.

No! So, what did you see?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Leonard...

Hang on! Right... what
do you think of this?

"The views and
attitudes that shaped us

"may not shape the
next generation.

"But perhaps nor will the
prejudices we wrestle with today.

"We are a community, and
a community only works

"when it carries
everyone along with it."

It's very... political,
for a sermon.

Well, I was thinking of
speaking at the hustings.

Accentuate the positives
of a progressive candidate.

You might find that church and state
are kept at a distance for a reason.

Never underestimate
public opinion.

I've been thinking about
going back to the police.

Present them with
a reasonable story,

about Daniel and I being
seen innocently together.

Lying is not the answer to this.

But what is? I have the sword
of Damocles hanging over me.

Come to the hustings!

It'll take your mind off any
sharp objects floating above you.

Hm?

What happened?

Look, I understand
that you're angry.

I'm not angry.

You wish things were back the
way they were. Before you knew.

Pandora's box is open.

Leonard is still Leonard.
His life is not a sin.

And that's the view of the
Archdeacon, too, is it?

When he said you're out as well if
you defend him? You listened in?

Course I bloody did!

He's part of your flock.
And you let him stray.

I let him be himself. Oh,
and look where that's got us!

You're the shepherd.

And you stood by and let
us all wallow in his sins.

Oh, don't be such a bigot!

I will not be spoken
to like that. Mrs C!

SIGHS

Stupid boy!

Oh, please tell me you've come
to make an exonerating statement.

I can't do that, Geordie.

Well, Mrs C was
hardly a star witness,

and now you're gonna
tell the truth,

even if you damn Leonard
and lose your job.

I don't know. I feel impotent.

Have you tried oysters?

What are you gonna do?

Maurice St Martin,
let's bring him in.

Some new evidence come to light?

I've asked around. He's a hustler.
Underhanded tactics... er, bribery,

sabotage, devaluing the land,
forcing the owners to undersell.

So, basically, you want me to
haul someone in you don't like,

based on some village gossip?

Oh, fine, Geordie, it's clearly not
worth wasting your time pursuing.

Easy! That's not
what I'm saying.

In fact, I've already
asked Miss Scott...

The St Martin files and the
McArthur files, from the archive.

Thank you, Miss Scott.

Forget God. You want
an all-seeing presence,

she's in a wiggle
dress on desk seven.

What is it? Five years back, Reeny
sustained some nasty injuries

after an incident at her home.

What happened?
There's nothing.

There's no charges, but it reads
more like a fight than a fall.

So, what... Derek beats
her and they shushed it up?

Reeny mentioned he wasn't
always easy to live with.

So, after years of
suffering in silence,

the wife knocks off
her abusive husband?

Believe me, that is the
most likely motive so far.

I'll leave you to it.

Reeny, er, we... we need to ask you
a few more questions about Derek.

Did he have a temper?

Ever struggle with his
anger boiling over?

He could get worked up. And
was that ever aimed at you?

What started as a happy marriage
didn't always stay that way.

Whose does?

But, erm, we did
good work together.

A few years back, there was
a domestic incident here.

Police were called.

It's not exactly "good
work" from the sounds of it.

Yes. There were violent moments.

And, yes...

..I won't lie, the thought of
killing him did cross my mind.

But he wasn't an evil man.
He was... haunted, perhaps.

Tricking the Germans
might seem clever,

but truthfully, war is one
awful choice after another.

For Derek, it was picking
the men who never came back.

You don't have to
defend a violent man.

People should know
the truth about him.

Really?

I'm being judged
because he died.

Because of HOW he died.

Because of everything
except who I am.

I don't need to give
the world more of Derek.

I wanted him to retire. I
didn't want to kill him.

Do you really think I
would have come to you,

questioning his
suicide, if I had?

Someone like Reeny as a chairwoman
might take up Leonard's fight.

If it comes to that.

You do not want it
to come to that.

At some point, bad laws
need to be overturned.

People like Maurice are
holding this world back.

People like Reeny... I wouldn't
pin all your hopes on her, Will.

Well, I have to pin them
somewhere. No, you don't!

What you have to do is
give Leonard an alibi.

Geordie!

Do you think I like asking?

Jesus Christ, Will, there's
cracks in Leonard's story.

Larry's been on the phone to the
Merries staff for more statements.

If one person saw something
else... I can fix this.

Just come to the station and tell
us Bryan Stanford was mistaken...

..because Leonard was in that
bloody twin bed across from you.

Hey!

Then all this goes away.

And that is how I know

that the growing number of passing
motor vehicles is a concern.

And I know that the
lack of a telephone line

in Spring Lane is a concern.

I know these things

because I live amongst you
and have done all my life.

I
know Grantchester,

and I want to serve
it as best I can.

Thank you.

Thank you, Mrs McArthur.

Mr St Martin, would you
like to respond? Oh, yes.

Derek McArthur served as chairman
to the council for many years.

Mrs McArthur by his side.
His suicide is tragic.

But it does beg a question.

What was he so sacred of?

Was there something
rotten in Grantchester?

Perhaps Mrs McArthur
can help us,

since she's been seen
talking to the police.

Perhaps you would care to comment
on the accusation of gross indecency

levelled at our very
own church curate?

Hey! Bloody hell.

Reeny!

This is utter...

I-I have no idea what
allegations you're talking about.

Really? Only a policeman calls
on you yesterday and today,

and the curate fella's
been down the station, too.

I mean, it's plain deviancy
here on our own doorstep!

To think that the unnatural
can take up home amongst us.

I ask, do you want a council
that's just a soft touch,

or do you want one that takes
a stand against the corruption

that threatens our traditional,
British way of life?!

THAT'S ENOUGH!

Bloody hell. You dare to throw
these accusations out here,

for public trial? This isn't a
cheap game for scoring points.

You're toying with
someone's else life!

You're-you're pouring poison
in people's ears and for what?

For a few bloody votes!

And what exactly are
you peddling, Reverend?

Milk and honey for
poofs and communists!

Order, please!

Steady on! This man
should be disqualified!

All right! All right!

Everyone just needs to
calm down... and go home.

Leonard!

Leonard, I am...
I am so, so sorry.

What... what was said? Well,
you heard the crux of it.

And, er, Maurice only
had the allegation.

The village?

Mixed.

And, er, I'm sorry
I, er, spoke up.

That speech you were writing?

Er, a little more
off-the-cuff, in the end.

That's...

OK?

Well, I, erm... hit a table.

It all got a little bit rowdy.

Ah. Sounds very
Jesus in the temple.

People won't care.

How can I stand in front
of our congregation again?

Walk into a... a
post office. I ran!

I ran out and I
didn't... defend myself.

I did! And Reeny
will, I'm-I'm sure.

And the Archdeacon will be
happy with that, will he?

I would hate more than anything
for my mistakes to cost you this...

..your vocation.

Please, Will.

I wouldn't be able to
look myself in the mirror

if I didn't say something.

You are a... wonderful
idiot sometimes.

Hello?

Oh, sorry. The door was
open, and nobody answered.

No, I'm up, I am. Come in.

I can come back? No, it's
fine, I was just, erm...

I can't pretend I'm
not disappointed.

In me?

Uh... I was a little taken
aback. The whole village was.

Allegations about Derek,
accusations of Leonard.

Leonard is a good man. We
are so lucky to have him.

Damn anyone who
thinks differently.

And what a world it would be
if everyone felt the same.

But you can't rock the boat
if they push you out of it.

Another surprise delivery.

Well, will you look who it is?

The only man who can turn a
parish election into a fist fight.

Jesus would be proud. Jesus
never met Maurice St Martin.

How did he know about Leonard?

I don't know, but
I'm gonna find out.

Reeny received this today. Hm?

And "this" is what?

Some sort of surveillance?

Someone's made timings
of the comings and goings

from the St Martin warehouse.

There's about two weeks' worth
there, starting two months ago.

Who's it from?

Well, there's a covering
letter from a private detective

that Derek hired. But there's
no address or number given.

This last entry says,
"Observation is suspended...

"to avoid suspicion."

Derek was spying on Maurice?

No-one's in.

Well, that private detective must
have been watching from somewhere.

Here's your surveillance post.

A clear view of them, but
hard for them to see you.

No ash in the ashtray.
Only cigarette butts.

So? Must be on the floor.

Can't see any.

This how you win over all your
potential voters, is it, Maurice?

I see exactly what your
game is. This is a vendetta.

A vendetta? He doesn't like
it that I'm a hair's breadth

from the parish council, so,
last day of the campaign,

he's fitting me up for
whatever happened to Derek.

He's the one you should arrest,
for sheltering a homosexual.

Who told you there were
allegations about Leonard Finch?

I've got little
birds everywhere.

At a guess, some cop got
loose-lipped at the Lodge.

So, why'd you make a
run for it at the shed?

Because when I find people
nosing around my property

with a pair of binoculars
and I've done nothing wrong,

I figure it's a stitch-up.

You know, you love to play
the victim, don't you?

"Poor Maurice, picked
on by the leftie vicar."

Must wind you up
something rotten,

people preferring the
vision I'm selling to yours.

You're pretty close to your
cousin Phillip, aren't you?

It's gotta be a pain his plans keep
getting squashed by the council.

Rumour has it, you've a habit
of sabotaging land sales

and then swooping in
to buy them up cheap.

Derek McArthur got
wise to your intentions

and sent a private
detective to keep watch.

And when you found
out, you got angry...

..followed Derek...

and pushed him into the Cam.

That's... That's
what you've got?

Oh, bloody hell.

You're right about one thing. I
do know how to get a good deal.

Which is why I'd been helping
Derek buy a house down in Hove.

Now, why would I kill a man I was
about to make a commission off?

Ah, there's something not right
about this surveillance operation.

The ashtray's bothering
me. Come again?

This private detective smoking away,
watching the St Martin's place,

but...

..there's no ash.

Why?

Well, I dunno, maybe
he knocked it over?

So why not bin the lot? Why
just put the stubs back?

Erm, to make it look like someone
had spent some time there?

And why would someone
want you to believe that?

We've got a few crumbs
of evidence, and...

I want to believe they point
back to Maurice, but...

the ash tray? The anonymous
private detective?

The notebook?

They're like the components
of an elaborate story.

And who do we know who
likes to tell stories?

Good afternoon.
Good afternoon.

Will. Inspector.
Everything all right?

We've just been on the
phone to your publisher,

who was very keen to point out the
military accuracy in your books

is because of your
own experiences.

Of course. Robert and I were
both in military intelligence.

With Derek.

What's this about?

You once told me that we both
spend time lining up evidence,

to... to make sense of a crime.

How about we head down the
station and have a go now?

You wrote to Derek under the
guise of "Eric Pritchard"

to elicit a response that
looked like a suicide note.

You then met him at the
Cam and you pushed him in.

You should take up writing
novels yourself, Inspector.

But then Reeny asked
me to look into it.

Because Derek had made retirement
plans you had no idea about.

But then she became
a suspect herself,

and you had to move
the focus elsewhere.

And who was I most set against?

Cue a hastily-faked observation
post at the St Martin's place,

to imply that Derek had
hired a private investigator.

Now it looks like Maurice has
found out Derek was spying on him,

which gives him a
motive for revenge.

It's all very...
Operation Mincemeat.

Well, it's fascinating. Really.

But you're starting
from a false premise:

what possible motive would I have
for wanting to kill an old friend?

"They sat in that cafe, as people
came and went about their business.

"Just a tablecloth apart, but he saw
now that a world lay between them.

"A continent of things unsaid.
Regrets piled up like mountains."

"She would know nothing of this
world and that terrible loss,

"he knew, was of
his own making."

They say you write
what you know...

..and you've been in love with
Reeny McArthur for 20 years.

"Righteous and brilliant...

"and changing the world."

She burned with life.

I was so in awe... I could never
find the words to tell her.

It's ironic, really.

She married Derek while
I was posted away.

I didn't come back.
Not for a long time.

But when I did...

..her fire had...

dimmed.

Oh, give over, Mr Waterhouse.

You're not the first man to miss
the boat with a pretty girl.

That bastard beat her!

He got her and he broke her!

But you would have
made her happy?

I worshipped her. No-one
could've made her happier.

I couldn't stand
by and do nothing.

Real knight in shining armour.

If I didn't intervene...

You murdered her
husband in cold blood.

How very gallant of you.

I think he really did
just want to help.

How dare he.

How dare he make it
his job to "save me"!

I'm so sorry.

I've lost my husband
and now my best friend.

In no time at all.

Voting day, Iris.
Afternoon, Reeny.

Come along, now.

After you.

Apologies, after you. It's
quite all right, I'm just, er,

popping out for a minute.

Good day? Fine.

Well, er, had better.

I'm sorry I called you a...
I'm sorry for what I said.

Lie to them. What?

Please. I can't lose my boy.

Hello, Will. I've come to
give my statement to Geordie.

You, too? He's in with Mr Finch.

Leonard's here?

So... what is it
you'd like to say?

"To thine own self be true."

Isn't that how it goes?

The allegation made
by Bryan Stanford...

it's true.

He was not lying
about seeing me...

..in bed with another man.

Leonard... Bloody hell. Why
are you telling us this now?

Because it's the
truth, Inspector.

Was this other man Daniel
Marlowe? No. A stranger.

I don't recall a name.
Just a holiday romance.

Then I must charge you with
the crime of gross indecency...

..committed at the
Merries Holiday Camp

on 29 August this year.

DC Peters will now escort you
through the charging process.

You're not obliged to say
anything unless you wish to do so.

But what you say will
be taken down in writing

and may be given in evidence.

For your own safety, and
in view of the late hour,

you'll stay here overnight

and be taken to the
magistrates in the morning.

Someone needs to stop Clearway Law.
Public shouldn't leave reviews for lawyers.