Midsomer Murders (1997–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Faithful unto Death - full transcript

(fair music playing)
(people chatting)

Faithful unto Death

(Cully laughs)
JOYCE: I think every one of them's mad.

CULLY: Hello.

- Hello!
- Do you make these yourself, Miss Lawton?

- Yes. Do you like it?
- She does. I can tell.

I love that one. It's really nice.

CULLY: Why don't you get a set?
Six of those, do you think?

This is a very moving moment for me,
George.

It's the first time
I've ever won anything.

It'll be rotten inside,
I guarantee you.



You're just jealous because
I've got a coconut and you haven't.

- Hello, George.
- Simone!

Who is that?

Simone Hollingsworth
and that bloke's her husband, Alan.

- What's he got that we haven't, George?
- Good question.

He's bought the mill. Going to turn it
into one of those craft centres. You know,

potters, painters, glassblowers...

You don't sound overjoyed
about that.

- Hello George!
- Joyce!

- Where's Cath?
- In the tea tent.

Prithee, sweet maid, dost thou wish
to partake of a beefburger?

- Um, actually... - Perchance a veggie
burger is more to thy taste?

And you, kind sir,
a dog of the hot variety?

Yonder, at the barbecue.
Two sovereigns apiece.



That soocks...

Dad, that old lady, the mutton
dressed as lamb. Do you know her?

That's a terrible thing to say...

even though it's true. No, I don't.

She's that actress. Freda somebody.

You know...
Come on... What's her name?

(in the background)
Bad luck. Care to have another go?

- Hello there.
- Hello.

Skittles. 20p a go.

Don't be silly, Bunny dear,
the young lady's come to talk to me.

I saw you asking your father,
"Isn't she that actress?"

"She was in...
what was the name of that film?"

He knows exactly who you are.
And so do I.

Elfrida Molfrey.

I am flattered!

Look, I know why you left it till now –

you think that I won't make a fuss
in front of a crowd.

Well, I don't care
who sees me beat you to a pulp.

Just you two leave this till later.

Who's the lad who fancies himself,
Cath?

He's called Gray Patterson.

Where are the Andersons? Nigel! Doreen.

You left money in Morton Mill,
didn't you?

A trifling sum.

Well. Did you know
the company is on its last legs?

What!

I – I'm sorry.
I wanted to tell everyone privately.

Felicity, where's your other half?

Reg,
do you know anything about this?

I'm sorry, Gray. It's news to me.

He's only the company's secretary.
Why should he know anything?

We've invested money too, you know.

Look, it's not just inefficiency!

Unhelpful bank...
the wrong project manager!

Yeah. And bang goes my 20 grand.

Sarah. Sarah.

This old fool has lost us all money.

Now. Show of hands.

Who wants me to kill him?

Is there a policeman in the house?

- Get off!
- Mr Patterson.

- Who are you?
- I am a policeman.

We keep the peace, you know?
And if you have a complaint...

you should make it
to the proper authority, which is me.

- Do you have a complaint?
- No. I haven't.

What was all that about then,
that shindig in the tea tent?

Oh, something or nothing, Tom.

Hardly nothing, love.
At the very best it was a damn cheek.

- And at the very worst?
- Criminal.

You know I'm chair of the planning
committee on the Valley council?

This new craft centre at the mill,
it needed permission.

So?

Gray Patterson offered me money
to push the plans through.

- How much?
- £3,000.

It's a funny sum, isn't it?
Not exactly peanuts,

but hardly worth taking a risk for.

The money isn't really a problem.
He threatened her as well.

- Bunny!
- Reg!

Fetch Elfrida. Free pint up at the pub

- for everyone who helped with the fete.
- Jolly good!

How much did we make, Reg?

Oh, getting on for £2,000, I think.

Not a bad day's work.

- Not coming to the pub, then?

- No, I've had enough of the village
for one day.

- Will Gray be there?
- I expect so.

You know why he had a go
at me, don't you?

Because he fancies me like mad.

He can't imagine
why you married me.

Tell me the truth. Have you really cheated
all those people out of that money?

Oh, I'm sorry.
Mrs Anderson, isn't it?

(laughs) It's alright.

I keep an eye on Gray.
Bit of laundry, shopping, clearing up.

- You know what single young men are like.
- From personal experience.

Good afternoon, Inspector.

Doreen, thanks.
You really are a sweetheart.

Pleasure. See you tomorrow.

(scoffs) She enjoys cooking for me.
It would be churlish to refuse.

What does she get out of it?

Well, I suppose
I make her feel needed.

And young.

Now then, what can I do for you?

I'd like a bit of your self-esteem,
if you can spare any.

- Excuse me. What are you doing?
- Looking around.

Yeah. Well, I'd rather you didn't.

Why are you here, Inspector?

Alan Hollingsworth.

Yesterday you threatened to kill him.

That's just words.
Heat of the moment stuff.

That's when most murders occur.

Nevertheless, we can forget
it all happened. For a price.

You what?

More, of course, than you offered
Catherine Bullard to push your plans through.

- I never did any such thing!
- She's a friend of mine. You're not.

I believe her.

Or perhaps it was one of those
heat of the moment things again.

Yeah well,
now you come to mention it –

Unlike the threat
you made against her,

which to me sounded very prepared.

"If people don't get what's due to them,
other people get hurt.

"And you have such a lovely face,
Catherine. I'm sure you'd like to keep it."

Any man who says that to a woman
is either desperate, or downright evil.

Which are you?

Look, I knew things
were going pear-shaped at the mill

because Alan had dithered.

On purpose, I reckon. The bank had started
to call in its loan, so –

Your partner was working a scam,
you think?

Yeah, but not that
it will look that way.

I mean, it was me who was persuading people
to invest.

- Did you put anything into it?
- 20,000.

Right. I'm going around to have words
with Alan Hollingsworth.

You will stay away from him?
And Catherine Bullard?

After all, you have such a lovely face.

I'm sure you'd like to keep it.

I hate blokes like that.
Silver spoon in his gob,

Gregorio Falloni under his armpits.

- What?
- Deodorant. 80 quid a bottle.

- What did you think of that room?
- Poncey.

No school photos, no pictures
with Mum and Dad...

no pictures of himself even!

That is a man
trying to lose his past.

And if it's any help,
he's no more of a toff than you are.

- Hello.
- Grew up on the streets, did he?

Where else did he learn
to separate people from their money?

- Or women from their husbands.
- Yeah...

An Inspector calls, Bunny!

- Yes dear, so I see.
- Fresh pot, then!

You'll... you'll be going to see
the Hollingsworths then?

- Yes, yes, we are.
- That's... that's where they live.

Mr Hollingsworth!

Hello!

Anyone?

Mrs Hollingsworth?

- Is he dead?
- No. I don't think so.

- Well how can you tell?
You did the first aid course. Prove it.

(dialling)

DCI Barnaby.

He doesn't need an ambulance.
He needs a bucket of cold water.

Rat-arsed.

I'm sorry, this was a false alarm.

Why are you here?

People have lost money, I'm told,

in the mill project.

Mr Hollingsworth...

Alright. Why don't you drop
into the police station tomorrow morning

and we'll talk it through then?
(phone rings)

Troy. No, you stay where you are.

Hello?

He can't come to the phone
at the moment. I can take a message.

- Who was that?
- Didn't say. A man's voice.

The number has been withheld.

He didn't want to be traced.

Mr Hollingsworth?

Yes.

Where's your wife?

(bells tolling in distance)

Bell-ringing practice.

Hello, Mrs Anderson.
You're having a busy day.

George, I'm looking
for Simone Hollingsworth.

Oh, she hasn't turned up.

- Have you heard from her?
- No, Mr Barnaby.

Simone isn't one
for the common courtesies.

Ah, Inspector.
Thank you for stepping in yesterday.

- In the tea tent.
- My pleasure, Mrs...?

Buckley. Felicity Buckley.

Well, thank you.

Hold your horses!
The loss of our hard-earned cash.

You will be looking into the matter,
won't you?

Please take this
as an official request.

So just because some bell-ringing ponce
loses a few quid, we go charging in, do we?

Oh yeah, that's right.
Look.

Isaac Dawlish.
That's one of Bunny's lot. 1667.

There's some Andersons over there
and a couple of Buckleys by the yew tree.

The old guard.

I wonder what they make of the newcomers.

Alan, Simone, Patterson.

Why don't we just do him for bribery
and have done with it?

Oh, we will, Troy, we will.
Eventually...

but right now, something's making
my copper's nose itch.

That will be the Gregorio Falloni, sir.
It lingers.

Two blokes go into business together.

One threatens a friend of mine after
first screwing money out of neighbours.

The other runs the whole shebang onto the rocks
and legs it to the shore with the loot.

Meantime, his wife has disappeared.

That phone call, sir.

- Oh, you're at it too now, Troy.
- "Hollingsworth," he said.

Not "Mr," not "Alan," not even "Hi,
how are you?". Just "Hollingsworth".

And you're not Alan Hollingsworth,
so he slams the phone down.

Who was he?
What does he want?

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for Alan Hollingsworth.

- Alan... Yes...
- Alan?

What do you want to see him about?

I rather think that's my business.

- Yes?
- It's that one.

Thank you.

Fat man calling at Rose Cottage!

Not Barnaby again, surely?

He's not fat! He's delicious.

You do realize he's a policeman,
don't you, dear?

Yes, of course I do.
Isn't it exciting?

"Dangerous" is the word
I would have used.

Silly woman.

Your very good health,
young man.

My own, I imagine,
is beyond the power of any toast.

What can I do for you,
Mr Vellacott?

- Gray Patterson, your business partner.
- Ex, to be precise.

I understand he's been telling people
that the money he invested

in the mill project is his own.

That's a slip of the tongue.
It's mine.

That's quite a slip
from being his to yours.

I wouldn't say that.

His, mine, yours, theirs...

they all denote the same thing.

Belonging. In this case, to me.

All 20 grand of it.

- Do you know where Simone is?
- Gone to her mother's, I thought.

You'll just have to make do with me.

Oh, I wouldn't call that making do.

You may not be the darts player
that she is

but at least you've got
a brain in your head.

So that's what you're after!
Good conversation.

- And I thought you just wanted –
- I know what you thought.

I'm not saying I wouldn't like that too.

- Wouldn't like what?
- What you just said.

But I didn't finish the sentence.

I think you're wrong, though.
Simone's as sharp as a razor.

That's what Alan can't bear.

Can't bear? The man dotes on her.

- You do know he knocks her about, don't you?
- Yeah, that's just gossip, surely.

I've seen the bruises.
Well hidden. Never on the face.

Look, you don't think he could have done
something... well, out of the ordinary?

- Like what?
- Like... hitting her too hard.

(soft footsteps)

(strange sounds outside)

(dog barking in the distance)

(gate creaks)

Who is it?

FEMALE VOICE: It's only me, Alan.

Oh... Brenda.

I'm sorry. I was miles away.

- What can I do for you?
- I know...

I know Simone's at her mother's,
so... I made you this.

It's a shepherd's pie. You just pop it
in the oven to warm it through.

Thank you.

That was kind of you.

Is there anything else?

No.

(gate creaks shut)

Come in, come in!

How thrilling it must be to have a son
follow you into your profession, Inspector.

Oh, I imagine so, but, eh –

Ah! The daily bake.

Known far and wide
as the Bunny cakes.

They look delicious.
Mind you, appearances can be deceptive.

Some proof might be needed.

Oh, please do, help yourselves.

What was it you wanted
to talk to us about, Miss Molfrey?

Oh, yes. It's... it's about next door.

Alan and Simone.

The Bunny Boy was just turning in last night
when he heard a "chrook chrook".

Being of a curious nature,
out he goes –

Why don't you tell it,
Mr Dawlish?

Over to the hedge.
And there was Alan, digging a hole.

Using my spade, I might add,
which he borrowed last week.

- How big a hole?
- Ah! You agree with us!

He's killed her!

Was it big enough
to hide a body?

- Folded in half, yes.
- Or chopped up!

Odd thing followed.

Brenda Buckley came on the scene,
carrying a shepherd's pie.

Alan nearly jumped out of his skin
when he heard the gate go.

Shepherd's pie, as in meat and potatoes?

Yes. And she handed it to him saying,

thingy, eh, "Simone
is away with her mother..."

"so, eh, I made you this."

What an odd thing to do!

The point is,
Simone hasn't got a mother.

She died three years ago.

Eh, may I?

Oh! Yes, please do.

How have they been getting on lately,
Alan and Simone?

Inspector,
we don't listen at keyholes.

- Oh, come on, Miss Molfrey.
Of course you do! - Oh!...

...a hell of a ding dong
the other night.

I don't care how you earn
a living, Alan, just as long as you do.

So I work my guts out and Gray Patterson
gets all the attention, does he?

Don't be so old-fashioned.

I take that as an admission!

Well, it's no worse than you
and Miss Droopy Drawers next door!

- Brenda?!
- Yes!

I've seen her out there every morning
staring at you like a bush baby!

And you love it, don't you?
"Hello Brenda, how are you today?"

- It's just good manners!
- That's what I said about me and Brian!

- Other people don't! - Oh, now you care
what the bloody neighbours think!

And with that
she slammed out of the house.

And did she speak to you?

Pretended we weren't there!
(laughs impishly)

Simone and Gray Patterson.
Is there anything in that?

(giggles) If I were 50 years younger,
she wouldn't have stood a chance.

You know, ten minutes in your company
and I feel...

...better. That's the only way
to describe it: better.

That spade he borrowed...

- Did he return it?
- Yes.

Would you mind...
(laughs)

Would you mind
if my sergeant borrowed it?

Not at all.

Sir?

(knocks)

Yes?

The other day, I asked you
to drop in to the station.

(fit of laughter)

Are you all right, sir?

Yes. I'm all right. You tell him.

To the station to talk about
the mill project. You didn't show up.

I've been rather preoccupied,
trying to save the business.

We asked you where Simone was.

Bell-ringing, you said.
She wasn't.

- You'll have to take it up with her.
- I will.

- Where will you find her?
- She's at her mother's.

Her mother is dead.
Who will I take that up with?

If you really must know, she's left me.
Walked out.

This is Sergeant Troy
and this is a spade.

Between them, they are going to
dig a hole in your garden,

with your permission.
- Which I don't give. - Thank you.

They've gone round the back.

Hello, Bunny!

You won't find anything,
you know.

Australia, I believe.
If he puts his back into it.

Is this your doing,
Dawlish?

Or Frightful Frida's?
Where is the old bag?

Enjoying it, are we?

Morning.

You're missing a trick here, Reg.

Why don't you invite
the whole village?

Flog 'em tickets!

Sir!

I've found something.

A shepherd's pie.

I confess... I buried it alive.

Will that be all?

No, not quite.

You'd better use upstairs.
The bathroom's right above us.

(singsongs) Shepherd's pie at midnight.

That speaks to me,
Mr Hollingsworth, of true love.

Even though I can't stand the stuff?

So there's nothing between you
and Brenda Buckley?

Have you seen her?

So you admit
that you buried the shepherd's pie?

And that's
what you put down the hole.

- What did you dig up?
- A dead body. Is that what you think?

No, no, no.

I think it was money.

Which I am supposed to have stolen
from my neighbours?

Wherever you got it from,
you used it to pay a ransom demand.

- What?
- Your wife hasn't left you.

Someone is holding her.

My sergeant spoke to him
on the phone the other day.

She's left me!

No, wait, wait, wait!

We have highly trained negotiators
for kidnappings.

The best in the world.

Just think about it.

Your sergeant's taking his time.

He's a very fastidious man.

Oi!

Everything all right, sir?

Get out of here! Both of you!

Well?

The wardrobe's full of clothes.
Jewellery box empty.

Classic!

(Barnaby laughs heartily)

Plenty of clothes, no jewellery.

Classic. (giggles)

Are you sure you're all right, sir?

(Barnaby humming)

Time for some spade work, Troy.

Another one of your little jokes,
was it, sir?

No, Troy, that was a metaphor.
Get in touch with the fraud squad.

And see if they're interested
in a fiddle in Morton Fendle.

And dig up... (laughs)
I'm sorry!

Find out all you can about Pattison,
Hollingsworth and Reg Buckley.

Hey, Georgie! You were right
about that coconut.

It was rotten.

Ah. I thought I should –

let you know Nigel Anderson has called
a meeting, lunchtime today, at his pub.

Oh. What's the agenda?

How can those who put money
into the mill project get it back.

Ah, I can tell you the answer to that
right now: they won't. (laughs)

What do you mean, we won't?

Oh, not you, too, George!

How are the mighty shafted!

Oh, hold it, mon bro!

I think we – should go – to that meeting.

- There you go, George.
- Thanks very much.

May I ask why you're here?

Believe it or not, for a drink.

We'd like two pints...

...of that.

Oh, good afternoon, Mrs Anderson.

Not on duty, then, Mr Barnaby.

No, but I could be
at the drop of a clanger.

Only we had a meeting arranged.
Private.

And you think
we might cramp your style?

- Oh.
- It's alright, they're on the house.

Oh no they're not, Nigel.

(indistinct)

NIGEL: Alright, friends.
Take a pew, everybody.

I'm sure you agree we don't want
to make this too formal.

Although, it is a very serious matter.

- Bunny, would you mind?
- Oh yes.

Between us in this village, we've
lost some £90,000 to the mill project.

It's no surprise that
Alan isn't here to answer the charges,

nor is Reg Buckley,
the so-called company secretary.

As some of you know, I've asked the police
to investigate and we await their response.

- Good.
- Darling?

Here's the latest:
I invited Alan here today.

He referred me to his solicitor.

He referred me
to the official receiver.

In other words,
the man's gone bankrupt.

Do you mean our hard-earned money

will be stashed away
in some Caribbean...

- Fleshpot?
- Yes!

In Simone's name,
I shouldn't wonder.

We could try asking Felicity
where the money is.

Ask Reg by all means,
but, er, leave her out of it.

You seem to have forgotten
that I've lost money too.

Frankly, you combed this money
out of me, Gray.

- Objection.
- Overruled!

Oh come on Nigel, grow up!

This is the kind of thing you expect
if you take risks like that!

How dare you
speak to me like that!

(everybody shouting)
(Barnaby humming)

Gentlemen, settle down, please.
Now, let's put this to the vote.

Now hands up those of you
who think that Gray cheated them.

- I do!
- One, two, three... oh, four.

- Carry on, I think? Bunny.
- Oh, yes, thank you.

Now, I'm not saying
we do anything illegal,

but why don't we stroll round
to Alan's house en masse?

I second that.

Hold it! Right there.

Sit down.

I won't be told what to do
in my own hostelry.

If you want your licence renewed,
you will. Sit down.

I believe that something very serious
has happened in Morton Fendle.

Yes. And when are you gonna
do something?

I'm not talking about the mill project
or you losing your money.

What else, then?

Have you lot been asleep
for the last three days?

Simone Hollingsworth has disappeared.

Come off it, Barnaby.
She's left him.

- Or he kicked her out
for playing the field. - Yeah.

Boyfriends galore, you know.

Then why hasn't she taken
her clothes with her?

And at the same time, her jewels have gone.

And that's a classic combination.

No time to pack the suitcase.

And the husband sells the jewellery
to pay the ransom.

You mean she's been kidnapped?

I believe so, Miss Lawton.

I'm on dicey ground telling you,
but far better you know the truth

than you go round to
try and lynch her husband.

Who's done this dreadful thing?

Someone with an axe to grind,
Mrs Buckley.

Someone who wants their money back.

As you all do.

Um, Inspector!

May I speak with you?

Of course. Yes.

It sounds odd, I know,
but I was wondering

if you would have a word
with my husband.

Yes, yes.

Jump in.

Ah, he's obviously heard us coming
and rushed up to his den.

What sort of woman is Simone?

Far too exotic
for a village like this.

And for a man like Alan.

When did you last see her?

Er... it was the night of the fete.

She was underdressed, as usual,
and flirting with everyone in sight.

She left early. With Gray.

And apart from Gray,
who are her friends?

She and Sarah Lawton
seem pretty close.

Sarah moved in here
soon after Simone.

Simone was getting over Vince,
you know, her last boyfriend.

And she was already married to Alan?

Women do make stupid mistakes,
Inspector.

That's nice.

Ah, yes. Wedding anniversary present
from Reg.

Twenty-five years.
(classical music starts playing)

Very nice.

And expensive.

Oh, there have been
other presents too.

He says he got the money
from savings.

And you don't believe him?

There you are, Mr Buckley.

Tell me, what happened
at the mill?

I'm not really sure.

Alan kept everything to himself.
Never shared... (bicycle bell)

And to be honest,
I wasn't really up to the job.

I was an accounts manager
at Tesco's,

made redundant.
- You were fired.

Discrepancies, they say.

Become a sort of habit, has it...
skimming the perks off the top?

Will you be pressing charges?

This room overlooks
the other two cottages.

I'd like to put a man in here,
if I may, for a few days.

See who comes, who goes.

Meantime, I'd like a list of everyone
who's invested in the mill, please.

Why would a woman grass
on a bundle of fun like Reg?

She wants him out of the way.

He was just the sort of man
Hollingsworth needed, though.

A petty thief.

To point the finger at, you mean,
if we came along?

God, he puts it about,
that lad, doesn't he?

(indistinct)

Pf, trashy good looks.
Women go for them.

Here's a funny thing.

Sarah went to the meeting, but
she's not on the list of investors.

Felicity, it's Alan.

(indistinct)

(hangs up)

Alan Hollingsworth's on the phone.

He said he'll tell you everything
you want to know about Simone.

He's waiting for you.

Hello?

(bangs on door)

(car engine starts)

I don't believe this!

Come on!

TROY: I don't quite know
how to put this, sir.

BARNABY: Very carefully, Troy. Because
I think I know what you're going to say.

TROY: I've lost him.

(vendors shouting)

Alan! I know you're in trouble.

Please let me help you.

Oh! Sorry. So sorry.

(car honks)

(honking continues)

Oh, dear.

(sighs in relief)

(dialing)

Hello, Daddy, it's me.

Yes, I'm fine.
I've just been to Finchmere market.

Listen. I want you to go upstairs
and tell that policeman something.

It's urgent. (signal fades)
Hello... hello? Daddy?

Oh! (hangs up)

(shrieking)

It's Brenda Buckley all right.

No, you don't want
to look at that.

Right, well, you'd better
run some checks on the brakes.

Looks as if she's been... shunted.

Her father said she had panic
in her voice when she phoned.

- Then she was cut off.
- Yes, well, it's this valley.

It's a dead spot.

She didn't just ask for any policeman,
did she? She asked for you.

You get the car. We'll do that.

(sobbing silently)

Mrs Buckley, we do need
one of you to identify the body.

I'll do that, Inspector.

I...

I don't know
how he's going to cope without her.

How about you?

She was always more his daughter
than mine.

Does that sound awful?

You can't legislate for feelings,
can you?

She was a very...

very strange girl.

I never really knew her,
you know.

Troy. I'd like to take a look
at her bedroom, if I may.

No tears, your friend Felicity.

- What do you mean, my friend?
- I thought you liked her.

Where was she
when Brenda was killed, huh?

Shopping, she says.
Her old man was gardening.

No, women don't kill
their own daughters, do they?

You mean, you wish they didn't.

Yeah. She did grass on her husband.
Off-loading them both.

Well, I'll be damned.

Look at this.

Fresh flowers every week.

She would never talk about him.
Somebody at work, we thought.

Where was work?

Causton. Midsomer Building Society.

Diary, sir.
Pretty full.

Oh, that's good.

We'll take these with us
if we may, Mrs Buckley.

And... thank you.

Come on, Troy.
That'll do for today.

(sobs silently)

Taken late evening. Alan's house.

- Who is he?
- No idea.

Have you seen the magistrate yet?

Yes, I have.

This is a warrant to
search your house, Mr Hollingsworth.

- Excuse me.
- Now, just a second...

TROY: You go upstairs.

This man...

Who is he?

I've no idea.

He called on you.
You didn't open the door to him.

Then I didn't hear him knock...
What are you doing?

If I'd called and there was no reply,
the next thing I'd do is phone.

'Alan, it's Nigel Anderson.'

'I really do think it's time
we sorted this thing out.'

- Tell me about you and Brenda.
- 'Get back to me.'

- There's nothing to tell.
- Oh? Then explain this.

'To Brenda, with love - Alan.'

Every week, fresh flowers.
(voicemail beeps)

- 'It's Harry Vellacott.'
- I can't...

'Called on you earlier.
You weren't in.'

- I really can't make it out.
- 'Or were you?'

'Anyway, it's about Gray's money.
The £20,000.'

'I'm afraid to say
my patience is running out.'

£20,000.

What does he mean – Gray's money?

Upstairs. Bedside table.

So there she is in some godforsaken hole,
with a face like a butcher's counter,

and you're playing
hide and seek with me!

- No police, they said!
- Who said?

Man's voice. You heard him.

He phoned again, told me
to leave the money at Finchmere Market.

So you gave me the slip
and off you went.

Did Brenda see you
hand the money over?

- Is that why you killed her?
- No! No!

- What else did they say?
- Simone would be returned.

- So where is she?
- You've got to get her back for me.

Look at these photos.
Look at them!

The room she's in.

Do you recognise it?

(voice cracking) No...

That chicken should be ready by now,
Gray.

Hello, Mr Patterson.

You know, I do admire you.

If I'd lost £20,000, I'd be
climbing the walls with my teeth.

Yet here you are...
throwing a party.

Well, it's only money,
Inspector.

Hello, Mrs Anderson.

It's a lot of food for three people.

And one of them's a vegetarian.
Right, Sarah?

Do help yourself, Mr Barnaby.

Oh, not for me,
thank you.

TROY: Well, if it's going spare...

I'd like you to look at some photos.
Of Simone.

I must warn you,
they're not easy to cope with.

Ah, Mr Anderson. Nice to see you.

My God!
They've beaten her up.

Do you recognise the place
they were taken in?

No. No, I don't.

In the background, there's
a couple of deck chairs, folded.

Maybe they'd jog the memory?

Miss Lawton?

Sorry, no.

Oh, Nigel!

Oh, clever of you
to invite Mr Barnaby,

just in case we overstep the mark.

If I were a cynical man, I'd say
this wasn't a lunch party at all.

It's a gathering
of the mill investors.

What makes you say that?

It's the only thing
you six have in common.

I hope there's no plotting
or planning afoot. Licence? Renewal?

I wonder if Harry Vellacott
could help us with these.

Who?

Harry Vellacott.

No, I don't think I know him.

Really? He knows you.

So try again.

Got a pen?

There's no way they could be working
this together, is there?

Oh, a joint kidnap to get their money back?

I would have said no,

were it not for Nigel,
whom I'm sure you've seen.

Can't bear the sight of me.

This address Patterson's given us,

Peter Lane, Compton Dando.
It's a mobile home site.

Not just yet. Where's Sarah Lawton's
cottage from here?

- Shouldn't we have a warrant for this?
- Yes, we should.

You first.
I'll hold your coat.

- What are we looking for, sir?
- Not sure, Troy.

- But she's a friend of Simone's.
- Only friend, according to Mrs Buckley.

Well, it's not in here.
It's a locked room.

If she's her only friend,

why is she not more worried
about Simone's disappearance, then?

Now, that answers
about a dozen questions.

(scoffs) If only I knew what they were.

Couple of old dykes, eh?

You don't really have a soft pedal
when it comes to English, do you, Troy?

- Spade's a spade, sir.
- Shhh.

(door downstairs unlocked)

It's Sarah.

I thought you were going to see
this Harry Vellacott, Inspector.

He's next on the list.

But you thought
you'd do a little snooping first.

What would your superiors say to that?

Not a lot. When the chips are down,
we... close ranks.

Why didn't you invest in the mill project?

No spare money.
Potters are like that, I'm afraid.

Ah, but you are also a...
a photographer.

Oh, I see.

And if Simone means that much to you,

why are you so cool
about her disappearance?

You think I could show my true
feelings in a village like this?

When you showed me those... photos...
(voice breaks)

Ah, but they prove one thing,
Miss Lawton.

Simone is still alive.

How long have you two
been... involved?

Five years.

Long before she knew Alan.

Where did you meet?

In London. Greenwich.

I lived above her and Vince,
her boyfriend.

And you moved
to Morton Fendle to be near her?

Yes.

How does Gray Patterson
come into all of this? As a cover?

If you mean are we truly, madly,
deeply, the answer is no.

He's just a friend.

Does Alan know
about you and Simone?

We've been careful.

He's a jealous, volatile man.

How jealous?

Please don't, Inspector.

I couldn't bear it.

Does it change anything,
Simone and Sarah being an item?

Apart from your perception of women,
you mean?

Yes. He might have killed her.

Or had her killed.
Hence the payments. To a hitman.

Maybe that hole in the back garden
was for her.

Brenda turns up on the scene,
forces a change of plan.

- No. I don't like that.
- Why not?

Turn left here, will you?

Those photos. They say kidnap
to me, loud and clear.

- Tell you what does frighten me, though.
- What's that?

Your driving's improved.
You saw you look in the mirror.

Mr Vellacott?
Mr Harry Vellacott?

Don't tell me,
don't tell me.

Good old country coppers,
come to chew the fat.

Why did you visit Alan Hollingsworth
on Monday night?

Because he made off
with £20,000 of mine.

And I was
emotionally attached to it.

A man called Gray Patterson
says it's his.

Well, let that suffice.

- What are you staring at?
- Do I detect a family resemblance?

Gray and you.

Father and son, eh?

He is my son and he hates my guts.

So I flung him the £20,000
hoping to buy him back.

Where did you get money like that?

Pension.

What line of business were you in?

Have a guess.

I'm overweight,
I drink too much,

I smoke too much,
I eat too much...

I'm divorced, and the kids
don't want to know me.

A jaundiced view of human nature.

Yes, you're right.
I was a copper.

I'd like to see inside.

You've got a photograph
of Simone Hollingsworth, haven't you?

Together with a ransom demand.

And you want to know
if it was taken here or not, don't you?

Of course you do!

Go on! Help yourself!

'...over to our reporter
at Causton police station,

who is with the officer
who's heading the case.'

'The car we're looking for is
a black Saab 900, no registration as yet,

seen in the Wheatley Road
at 2:30 yesterday afternoon,

travelling at high speed.'

'Was your witness able to give you
a description of the people in the car?'

'A woman driver, we think,
with a white male passenger

in his mid-thirties, with black hair.'

'And this is the car
that forced Brenda Buckley off the road?'

'Almost certainly.
So if you have information at all,

about the whereabouts
of a slightly damaged black Saab,

could you please get in touch
with your local police station.'

Oh... If you weren't
the guvnor's daughter...

Oh, Cully, dear!
What a lovely surprise.

No, no, let's not go into the house.
The stuffy old house.

All right, then. Well,
I just came around really

to invite you to the first night
at the Barnhouse. It's the 27th?

ELFRIDA (in the distance):
Oh! Oh, we'd love that!

- Wouldn't we, Bunny?
- Wouldn't what, dear?

- We – we'd love to go.
- Go where?

- Eh, to a first night with Cully!
- Oh, that's an idea, rather! Yes.

Dad says he'll drive you and Bunny
over there.

- Well, perhaps we could go for a meal
before the show? - Oh!

ELFRIDA (in the distance): I must break out
the Bunny Boy's tuxedo.

Strange as it may seem,
he does have one.

Oh! Fresh air!

ELFRIDA (in the distance):
We're devils for it.

What do you want?

(takes deep breaths)

You must be freezing.

No, only on the surface. (laughs)

Elfrida, it's all right.
Your secret's safe with me.

W-what... what secret is that?
I have so many!

- Let's go inside, shall we?
- Yes.

(snoring lightly)

- I saw Cully last night, sir.
- Oh yes?

- Where?
- Round at Elfrieda's.

I thought she had a boyfriend.

Oh yes, she has.
And you've met him.

Nicholas the actor.
We like him.

Only I thought I might go
and see her in this play.

- What was it called again?
- Oh, come on, Troy. Work, work.

Midsomer Building Society,
what do they say?

Brenda was a mouse.
Quiet, efficient. Kept to herself.

Hm. And the flower shop?

Owner said a girl came in,
dead ringer for Brenda, every Friday.

Bought flowers for her boss.

Name of Alan.

What, she was sending flowers
to herself? Oh!

(knocking on door)

I don't think he's in,
Mr Barnaby.

And you do have
a most charming daughter.

- Oh, thank you, Miss Molfrey.
- Oh, and son, of course!

- Where is Alan, Miss Molfrey?
- No idea.

The Boy Bunny
tried rousing him earlier. No dice.

What did you want him for,
Mr Dawlish?

They nominated me to try and get
their money back for them.

They ganged up on me
at the barbecue.

Sir, he's in there. Rat-arsed again,
spark out on the sofa.

You wouldn't happen to have a key,
would you, Miss Molfrey?

Afraid not.

I say! A Sergeant, and so young!

You must be awfully proud of him!

I'm going to nip over
to the shed.

I know you're under pressure,
Mr Hollingsworth,

but this is not going to help you,
is it?

Mr Hollingsworth.

Oh, for God... Troy.

Come on, you boozy sot.

Make an effort.

He's dead, sir.

Tom.

George. Now, for once in your life,
tell me something I want to hear.

Don't shoot the messenger.
Alan was murdered.

Oh, for God's sake.

Contents of his stomach:
whisky galore and haloperidol.

It's a sleeping pill, or rather a capsule,
which is significant.

Is it? Why?

The capsules are made of gelatin.
I didn't find any in the stomach.

And there was none found in the house,
was it?

No.

I reckon someone opened
each and every one of them,

took out the powder –

And mixed it with the whisky
to hide the taste.

Anything on the whisky bottle?

A fingerprint we can't account for,
but short of doing the whole village...

There was no sign of a forced entry.

The back door of the cottage
was left open...

He must have let him in himself.
Someone he knew.

But I have a name
from my spy in the camp.

(dog barking)

Mr Anderson!

Can I have a word, please?

Did you visit Alan Hollingsworth
last night?

Pray enlighten me
as to why I should want to.

- Yes or no?
- None of your business.

- But you were seen.
- By your policeman in Reg's den?

I think not.

So you knew all about him, then?

The whole village knew
within half an hour of his arrival.

But that's to expect.

I expected roughly what I got.

People like you sneaking round the back.
But you were seen.

Elfrida Molfrey is a better watchdog
than any officer I've got.

Is it a crime to visit neighbours?

That depends, Mrs Anderson,
what you do when you get –

Go on, then...

Mr Anderson, Miss Molfrey saw you
leave Alan's house at ten past midnight.

Oh, we had a drink. A chat.

- What did you drink?
- Scotch.

And at what point did you kill him?

- What?
- Oh, I'm sorry, didn't I say?

Alan is dead. Poisoned.

Haloperidol in the whisky, and your
fingerprints will be all over a glass,

maybe even the bottle.

He was alive when I left him.
I swear it!

Convince me.

I did call on him last night,
yes.

With a proposition...

No, no, no.

The money put into the mill project,
Doreen and I, £2,000.

I'm listening...

What say you return £1,500

and I keep the other investors
off your back?

BARNABY: He agreed to that?

Yes. He must have thought I really
held sway over the neighbours.

He went into the bathroom.

In the cistern,
there was a tin with money in it.

- How much?
- Wads of it.

Sounds like he'd had another demand.
Did he mention anything?

No. And by the time I left him,
he was spark out in a chair –

but alive.

Danny! Upstairs, spare room,
behind the cistern. A tin box.

Right. Well, hang on to it.

They've already found it.
Empty.

Then he's paid up.

Either that, or you took the money
after you killed him.

No, no, no.
I only wanted £1,500.

My job was on the line.
The money was... borrowed, you see.

Borrowed?

From the brewery.

Oh, Nigel, you nicked it
from the till.

Oh, good God! From pompous ass
to petty thief, just like that, eh?

And who made him brave enough to steal
in the first place, Mrs Anderson?

- She had nothing to do with it.
- Oh, come on! That's rubbish!

Anyone can see
you two are joined at the hip!

Did he come home from Alan's
and tell her about the money?

Well, yes...

And did you persuade him
to go back for it?

Perhaps you went back yourself?

If I had done, Inspector,
wouldn't Miss Molfrey have seen me?

The car, sir. The black Saab 900.
We've found it.

Where?

A garage in Compton Dando
having a wing fixed.

The panel beater saw you on telly.

- Owner?
- Vince Perry. 7, The Green, Burwood Mantle.

Good work.

Vince! That was the name
of Simone's boyfriend.

And don't take any sudden holidays,
you two.

There are more questions.

That's it.

(television playing)

(Barnaby knocks)

Mr Perry?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector...
Barnaby.

And the man at the back door,

blocking your escape,

is Sergeant Troy.

(Perry grunts)

You tried to run away,
Mr Perry.

That's almost as good as a confession.

So where have you been hiding her then,
Vince, if not at home?

No idea what you're talking about.

Then I'll make it crystal clear
for you, shall I?

Messy break-up, you and Simone.

So being greedy and resentful,
you abducted her.

You kept her in this place, slapped her
around a bit, for old times's sake,

and then demanded money
from her husband.

Who's been murdered. And we're
looking for someone to blame.

- Ten days ago, Finchmere Market –
- Never been there.

Ten days ago, Finchmere Market.

You picked up
the money Alan dropped.

The only trouble was,
Brenda Buckley saw you do it.

Who the hell's Brenda Buxey?

Ah! Don't come the old soldier with me!

"Is it Buxey or is it Buckley? I don't get
the name because I never heard it before!"

- Well I haven't!
- She's the woman you killed.

- No!
- You were driving the car at the time!

- No!
- Alright, then you were a passenger,

sitting right beside whoever
ran her off the road.

I was never in that car,
I've never been near Finchmere market!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Of course,
you had your car nicked.

At last, you're hearing me!

And then, as if by magic,
it turned up again three days later.

I expect they called off
the nationwide search for it.

Whatever.

You did all that to cover yourself.

You were in the car
that killed Brenda Buckley.

No.

Sling him in a cell.

TROY: He's not gonna budge, is he?

BARNABY: Eh, listen, look.
I'd like to have a word with Sarah Lawton.

By myself. Just me and her.
Is that alright?

Okay then.

No offense. It's just you being so...
thorougly male.

- It's a backup.
- I see.

So, what should I do
in meantime?

I... would like you to buy
my wife a birthday present.

Don't worry! I know exactly
what I want.

Right then.

Oh, Inspector, come in.

I've been meaning to ask you.
How did you get in last time?

Through your window out there.

It's actually warped away from the frame,

and there's a gap, so you can get a knife
or a twig in there and lift the latch.

I'll send a crime prevention officer around
and have a look at it for you.

- As long as it isn't Sergeant Troy.
- Oh.

Oh, he's alright really,
he's just a bit... oldfashioned.

Whereas I think I know
what Simone meant to you.

- And it doesn't bother you?
- It's not a crime to love someone, is it?

Then why are you here?

Er, it's not easy to say this,
but Alan's death

means that whoever abducted Simone,

they've lost
their source of income overnight.

Now they may decide
to do one of two things.

Don't.

They'll either let her go,
or kill her.

Do you have a suspect?

Well, any one of those investors
could be responsible.

Good job I had no money at the time.
Milk, Inspector?

Yes, please. Where is it?
In the fridge? I'll get it.

We are holding a man,
as a matter of fact.

I think you know him.

Vince Perry?

Simone's ex-boyfriend?

He denied involvement, of course,
but it's only a matter of time.

Now that Jimmy Cavendish has gone
to Malaya,

I think we should close up the house
and head for the Mediterranean.

(a tad theatrically)
That's a splendid idea, darling.

You can start on the new novel.

Yes, Daddy.
What's it going to be about?

It's about how life dashes
our hopes and dreams to the ground.

- What are you going to call it?
- Hollow Moonlight, I thought.

Yes.

Yes... I like that.

(moderate applause)

Cully, dear, you were wonderful.

It was a real eye-opener.

Far and away the best thing in it.
(laughs)

I mean, that poor creature
playing Hermione...

Well, it was a worthy effort.

Eh, she's dying to meet you,
Elfrida.

(stammers) Worthy!

And – and at the same time...
enchanting!

Oh! Oh, you dear, dear people!
Oh, you shouldn't have!

Oh, Bunny, do pour,
there's a good boy...

- Just a second... - Oh, Inspector,
you do the honours, then.

Oh, there's a card.
Bunny, dear, read it to me.

"Will you still need me, will
you still feed me, when you're 84?"

"Happy birthday, Joyce.
Love, Tom."

Ah! A faux pas.

Oh, good grief!
(starts sobbing)

Oh, dear. Now she's upset.

You thought I'd forgotten,
didn't you?

My God, Dad! Gregorio Falloni!
You've won the lottery?

We can't afford that, Tom.

They do a range for men.
But that is classy.

(Elfrida wails)
Gracious, Elfrida, whatever's wrong?

Whatever's the matter?

What must you think of me?

Oh, you know, it's moments like this
I do miss dear Simone.

She was so good at make-up,

which I do use the odd dab of
now and again.

- It was her training, you see.
- What training was that?

She worked for one of the big
cosmetic firms.

Oh, she could make me look
twenty years younger in ten minutes flat.

(phone rings)

Hello?

BARNABY: Hello, Troy. It's me...

The old copper's nose
is on the twitch.

(Troy sighs) -Where are you?
- I'm at the office.

Meet me at Buckley's place.
I want to cross her off the list.

Alright.

(gate creaks)

Inspector,
you do realise what time it is?

I do, thank you, Mrs Buckley.
Is Reg in?

No, he's spending a few days
with his brother.

He's... still finding things difficult.

When Brenda died, Reg was gardening.
Elfrida confirms that.

So she was here,
Reg was here, Bunny was here.

Where were you?

TROY: You were shopping.

Stuff you bought, you'll have made
a note of it in your cheque book...

- I don't use cheques.
- Credit card slips?

Actually, I don't think
I bought anything on that day.

Did you see anyone when you were shopping,
did you speak to anyone?

You know, I am finding this
rather offensive, Inspector.

I'm not accusing you
of killing Brenda.

I just need to be sure
that you didn't.

(footsteps on the stairs)

She, eh, she couldn't have done.

She was with me, Inspector.

(Barneby supresses a giggle)

Well, eh...
I only have one more question.

How on earth do you manage it?

Is Cully in, sir?

Yes, she is.

In fact, when I said I'd cook
you breakfast, I meant me as in her.

(sound of tires)

(brakes screeching)

Simone!

Cup of tea.
Plenty of sugar in.

They've told you what happened, then,
the people who were holding you?

To be honest... I think
it's one of the reasons they let me go.

You don't think they killed him?

Who knows?

I'm sorry, Simone. This is not going
to be an easy time for you, is it?

Is there anyone I can contact for you?

(sobbing) No.

Alan was all I had.

Look... I know all about you
and Sarah Lawton.

I'm sure she'd like to help,
wouldn't she?

Okay, look, we'll drop you off
at the police station

before we get her, and...

well, then I'd like to hear all about it.
If you feel up to it.

Thank you, Mr Barnaby.
You've been very kind.

Good news. The best.

Simone has turned up, alive and well.
Just a few bruises, that's all.

- When can I see her?
- Right now. She's down at the station.

- Hop in the car.
- Give me five minutes!

- Alright.
- Okay.

I began to give up hope.

Thought I'd never see you.

- Forgive me, Inspector.
- Oh, believe me, I'm as delighted as you.

- How are you?
- I'm in one piece.

- You okay?
- Uhm.

I've got some questions for you,
Simone.

Right... I'll wait outside.

Er, no! I'd like you to stay,
if you would.

You might need some support.

Would you like a cup of tea?

There were two of them:
a man and a woman.

Early thirties, I'd say.

- He was... tallish, curly dark hair.
- Did you get a name?

I think she called him Steve.
Or Steff.

He was furious when she said it.

I thought he was going to kill her.

He took it out on me instead.

Hm. Is that when he beat you up?

The first time, yes.

Eugh, other stairs...

(sighs in annoyance)

Yes!

I was waiting for the Causton bus
when a black Saab drew up.

To be honest,
I thought it was my ex-boyfriend,

but then two people got out,
stocking masks,

one of them punched me in the face
and bundled me in the back.

We think it was Vince's car.

Wouldn't that be
too much of a coincidence?

No, we believe they deliberately
chose his car, to point the finger at him.

And it worked, of course.

- What do you mean?
- We're holding him here for questioning.

Why did they... beat you twice?

Did you provoke them?

It was for the photographs.
To scare Alan.

Hm. Something else that worked too.

We estimate
they made about £300,000.

Split three ways,
that's... quite a payout.

- You think there were three of them?
- I know there are three of them.

So he paid the money
and then they killed him.

Poor Brenda, too.

Lucky they didn't kill you.

That's what puzzles me.
Why are you still alive?

(door opens)

Ah, Sergeant Troy. Come in.
Everything all right?

Fine, sir.

Mrs Hollingsworth,
nice to see you safe and well.

Thank you.

I was just about to ask Simone
where she was held captive.

I'm not really sure.

They put a hood over me in the car.

I had to go up steps,
concrete steps.

- Block of flats, I thought.
- And the room you were held in?

Small, dark... It could have been any room,
I'm afraid.

No, I don't think so.

I think it was a very...
particular room.

And I think I know where it was.

- Really?
- Yes.

Why didn't you come and get me?

Because I wasn't sure until
Sergeant Troy walked in just now.

You were held...

in the attic...

...of Miss Lawton's cottage.
I'm surprised you didn't recognise it.

- Well, I'm sure I would have done –
- I thought you might be there

when I saw the... the chicken leg
in Sarah's fridge.

Hello, Mrs Anderson.
That's a lot of food for three people.

And one of them's a vegetarian.
Right, Sarah?

So the chicken leg
was probably your supper, Simone.

Are you absolutely certain
about this room?

Mrs Hollingsworth...

I've just been there.

You've broken into my house yet again!
That is outrageous, Inspector.

You've got staying power,
I'll give you that, the pair of you.

But your story ran out of steam
five minutes ago.

The three people I am looking for...

...are Simone, her ex-boyfriend
and you.

You for the murder
of Alan Hollingsworth.

- Uh...
- What?

Oh, that's good. Surprise and indignation
all rolled into that one word: "What?"

The trouble is, I've been in this game
so long, I can hear something else as well.

Guilt.

You slipped a bottle of sleeping pills
out of their casings. Haloperidol.

You waited till Miss Molfrey
was safely asleep

and then you let yourself
into Alan's house.

How did I manage to get in?
Did I break down a door?

Or use a kitchen window
like the police do?

The key to the back door...
Simone's key.

I found it amongst your underwear.

- Uh!
- Strange place to keep it.

Strange place to look for it.

BARNABY: He was spark out
in the living room, drunk.

You brought him round, and right
under his nose, you mixed a cocktail.

Haliperidol and whisky,
one to hide the taste of the other.

There's a drink here.
(Alan groans faintly)

He was only half conscious.
He had no idea that you were killing him.

All he could see when you offered
him the glass was another whisky.

BARNABY: There's a rogue print,

just one,

on the whisky bottle
we found beside Alan's body.

Are you saying
that print won't match up

to those on the teacup
you've just been using?

It's upstairs
with the fingerprints officer.

Well?

(sighs)

Simone,
what do you want to say to her?

- Nothing.
- Oh, come on!

This is the woman
that's killed your husband for you.

How about 'thank you' at least?

I'm not quite sure
what game you're playing, Inspector.

You wanted her to kill him.

You wound her up to do it.

That, in itself, is a crime.

All I know is, the world's rid
of a complete bastard.

You believed her because she had
the bruises to prove it, didn't you?

Let me tell you something.

Alan Hollingsworth never,
never laid a finger on his wife.

That isn't true!

The bruises that Alan's
supposed to have given her...

they're as fake
as the ones she's wearing now.

Oh, you know, it's moments like this
that I do miss dear Simone.

She was so good at make-up.

My Sergeant doesn't understand.
Neither did I...

Till I learned that you'd worked
for a cosmetic firm, hadn't you, Simone?

Go on.
Show them what I'm talking about.

Wipe off your bruises.

Wipe them off! Or I'll do it for you.
Go on.

The bruises she said Alan gave her
were just like that.

You fell for it, eh?

She's good at details.

You even had some yob
dump her off at my house.

To give weight to the kidnap story.

Were you driving that van, Sarah?

I don't drive.

You had better start helping me...

unless you fancy twelve years in jail.

Help you? How?

I know she was driving the car
that forced Brenda Buckley off the road.

I know it, but I can't prove it.

I know that she set Alan up.
I know it, but I can't prove it.

I know she pressured you
to kill him.

That is incitement.

And you could get clean away with it,
if... you testify against her.

Never!

Nothing in the world you wouldn't do
for her, is that it?

Precisely.

Sarah... if you go to prison...

as you will,

you will meet women who will
terrify the life out of you.

You think about it.

I've done all the thinking I need to!

(mouths) I love you.

Let's see if Vince
has any more sense.

Good luck.

How did you divide up
the money then, Vince?

£100,000 to you, same to Sarah?

I haven't the faintest idea
what you're talking about.

I still have a witness
that saw you in the car.

So you say. Only not very clearly,
if that photofit was anything to go by.

So it was you, then.

I told you the other day,
my car was stolen.

Vince... she killed someone.

It wasn't you, you were
in the passenger seat.

Sarah doesn't drive.
So... it was Simone.

So you say. I still haven't the faintest
idea what you're talking about, then.

- Shut up, Troy!
- I didn't say anything.

You were going to say,
"Never mind, sir. We gave it a good crack."

That woman is going to walk out of here
with £300,000 and murder on her CV.

Why? Because Sarah bloody Lawton
fell on her sword in the name of love,

and Vince kept his trap shut
in the name of money.

There must be something we can use,
surely.

Oh, oh yes, oh yes.
She wasted police time.

Shall we do her for that
instead of Brenda's murder?

(phone rings)
What?

BARNABY: I'm going to clean up that cesspit
known as Morton Fendle.

I'll have that Gray Patterson,
for starters. For bribing Cathy Bullard.

- She seems fine about it now.
- Okay then. Reg Buckley!

Hm. For skimming the mill fund
to buy £3,000 worth of hi-fi.

- £3,000?
- Three...! You know what ours cost?

- Four hundred and thirty two pounds.
- Four hundred and thirty two pounds!

Now what can he hear
that I can't, huh?

So you don't think Reg has been punished
enough, losing his daughter?

(Barnaby sighs)
Depends on your view of daughters, I suppose.

Well, at least let me have
the Andersons!

If self-importance is not a crime,
it should be.

Plus, they have their fingers
in the till!

It seems the only honest people
in Morton Fendle are Bunny and Elfrida.

- Apart from the draw, that is.
- You what?

The marijuana.
He grows it in the greenhouse.

What they don't smoke themselves,
he puts in the Bunny cakes.

I thought you knew
and were turning a blind eye.

- Please, help yourselves.
- Thank you.

What was it you wanted
to talk to us about, Miss Molfrey?

I though I should...
let you know...

(giggles)
Are you alright, sir?

You know, 10 minutes
in your company and I feel... better.

That's the only way to describe it.
Better.

Oh, the Bunny cakes!

Oh, how nice.

You – you do know they've already gone,
don't you?

Oh, Simone and Vince? Yes.
One of the Greek islands.

For a month, I'm told.
To get away from it all.

Oh, you must be so disappointed
that you couldn't nail her.

Well, one case closes,
another opens.

What is it now? Oh, come in!
Do, do come in!

- Coffee, Bunny, there's a good boy!
- Coming.

Ah! Tell us all!

What are you investigating?

It's a drugs case.
The dreaded cannabis sativa.

They're farming it around here,
you know?

They never are!

Oh, yes.

Um... that's very nice, thank you.

They grow it in greenhouses,

in between the tomato plants.
It can look like one, you see.

May I?

(stammers) But ye...

No, I mustn't,
it'll spoil me dinner.

But!

We are on top of it!

W-What is that?

That is weedkiller, Mr Dawlish.

One capful to one gallon of water
and the ol' cannabis sativa

keel over like ninepins.

Now, I'm supposed to check
every greenhouse in the area.

So, um...
Shall we...?

(Elfrida squeaks anxiously)

- Um, greenfly.
- Greenfly?

I've sprayed it all... Greenfly.

Oh, dear.
Well, some other time, then.

Very soon.

Inspector!

You really are a most charming
and gracious man.

And if I were forty years younger,
I'd take a real flyer at you!

If you were forty years younger,
Miss Molfrey,

I'd charge you with supplying cannabis.

Three months later

(knocks)

This is for you.
Thanks, you can go now.

How are you coping?

Will you come straight to the point,
Sergeant?

Fair enough.

You've been sidelined. By Simone.

Ever wondered why she doesn't visit?

She's moved away. To Cumbria.
She writes.

Did she tell you
she and Vince were married?

See the other girl in the photograph?

She's their constant companion.

Look, why don't I just get straight
to the point, like you asked me to.

They're shacked up together.

(softly) Now...

If I'd been betrayed like that,
by somebody I was doing time for,

I wouldn't keep quiet.

I know you won't want to
take my word for it.

That's understandable.

But why not check it out?

Then get back to us
when you're ready.

(Troy stands up and leaves)

BARNABY: All the relevant documentation

was with the CPS in July.

Given the extreme age of the defendant –
(telephone rings)

Have it.

Troy?

Hello?

- Just a sec. Sir?
- What?

Sarah Lawton.

Who?

Sarah Lawton! You remember!

She wants to talk to you.

Hello?

Subtitles by Caroline Thompson,
edited and expanded by JaneBonny