Midsomer Murders (1997–…): Season 14, Episode 2 - Dark Secrets - full transcript

Dad, please!

Get out! Get out!

Slow down! What are you doing?!

What are you doing?! Slow down!

Midsomer Murders

Season 14, Episode 2
"Dark Secrets"

Hello!

My name is Gerry Dawkins

and I am from
Causton Social Services.

It is essential that I talk to you.

Hello?



You are entitled to various
benefits, you know.

Meals on wheels, home help.

I'll leave you with some pamphlets
and forms for you to fill in.

Thank you.

Hello.
Gerry Dawkins.

Causton Social Services.
And what do you want?

I'm investigating the circumstances
of William and Mary Bingham.

Do you know them?
They are my parents

and they do not need investigating.
Thank you.

Yes, well, be that as it may,

when a person or persons
within the council's care parameters

are not properly registered
on the various databases -

You're not listening, are you?

Excuse me! We do have
a zero tolerance policy



towards verbal and physical abuse.

Come back here, you're gonna need it.

Start paddling.

Oh, very smart
Do you really want them

smeared all over the local papers?

Selina, shut up. There's a doll.

I am not a doll.
That was irony.

You couldn't even spell it.

'Look, we have got to stop slagging
each other off in front of people.'

'Why?'
'Because we're a team.'

'That's what I told
the selection committee.'

'No wonder they laughed.'

Hello. My name's Gerry Dawkins.

That's Gerry with a 'G', not a 'J'.

Are you the head artist
in this colony?

Well, we don't actually do
hierarchies here.

Oh, right. No.

Of course.

Artists.

Well, I'm from
Causton Social Services.

I wondered if I could have a word
with you all.

Come and see.

And how are you?

Come here, come here.

Has he been boring you to death?

How long have you been here?

Ten weeks. A whole term.

Uh-huh.

I knew you'd rearrange everything
when you got here.

Well, at least you've got the kettle
and the frying pan working.

I did.

And a clean collar.

Did you get the washing machine going
or find another woman?

I bought a new shirt.

Soya sauce?

They've got a sushi bar.

Cool.

Much as we appreciate the freedom -

considered the right
of any artistic community -

you must understand that we all
share the same social services.

So databases have to be current
or they are worthless.

I should therefore like you all to
fill in these forms I've brought.

Believe you me, we're all part
of the system.

You can't beat the system,
can you? Eh?

For goodness' sake!

I'm a council official!

I demand that you
put me down immediately

or I shall be reporting you all
to the authorities

as soon as I return!

Put me down!

Argh!

We do have a zero tolerance
to violence!

It's not as big as your last one.

Yeah, but I wasn't the head there.

So what have you got to do today?
Meet my department heads,

who will hate me
because I'm an outsider.

You could retire.
We could live off my earnings.

That's a brilliant idea -
poverty and boredom at one stroke.

Right, I'll see you later.

I was going about my legitimate
business, caring for our community,

and what happens?
At the Binghams', I get manhandled.

At the artist community, well,
as related.

Physical or verbal abuse cannot
be tolerated. Quite right, too, sir.

But I think
being chucked in a duck pond

is a matter
for our uniformed people.

They said, as death threats
have been made, it was down to you.

Death threats?

Implied.
Ah.

I mean, people who try willy-nilly
to slip through the governmental net

are obviously dangerous per se.

You cannot opt out of the system,
can you?

Why not?

I'm sorry?
Why can't you opt out of the system?

Well, you just can't.

Mr Dawkins, we will investigate
the matter and be in touch.

Right, well, good.

Thank you.

We don't have time for time wasters.
Course we do, Jones.

We can't have abuse-mad anarchists
running amok all over the place.

Tomorrow morning, first thing -
artist's colony, then Binghams.

So, as my department heads,

I will be relying on you all
from the word go.

Together we will take Causton to
the top of the county league table

within two years.

Thank you, Mrs Barnaby.

And as deputy head,
I would like to welcome you

on behalf of all the staff.
How kind.

Of course, you will find that
there are certain people

who are somewhat surprised by the
department parachuting in an outsider

to take over from
the seasoned locals.

Josie, I totally agree with you.

The department is run
by a bunch of idiots,

but I guess we just have to cope and
all pull together, don't you think?

Anyway, before we embark
on our journey,

I would love for you all
to come to my place for lunch

so we can really
get to know each other

and you can fill me in
on all the local goss.

I won, I won.

I let you win.
You did not!

Come here.

Oh, isn't this wonderful?
Can we just live here forever?

Sounds like a plan.
So let's get on with it.

All in good time.
Ben! What?

I've got to watch my job.
But daddy thinks you're great.

And Selina's only my stepmother,
so she can go hang.

We can do whatever we like,
whenever we like.

Look, I better get going. I've got
a mare due in for Garrick Boy.

What's he like?
Edgy.

I'll see you later.

You won't get away from me!

Hiya.

Where's it all gone? What's she done?
My senior staff and I

bonded through an unpacking
and homemaking experience.

Ah. How are they?

Well, my deputy hates me.

She's a great bookkeeper
but I may have to strangle her.

You are so bad.

The er...new bed's arrived.

Look at your watch
and I'll kill you.

Stay.

Paper, Mary?
Thank you, darling.

But I seem to have mislaid
my spectacles.

Perhaps if you could
just put it aside for me

and then I'll get round to it later.

Right-o.

Anything interesting?
I doubt it.

Jolly good.

Too much news is never a good thing.

Right. Absolutely right.

Say no more.

Say no more.

Teeth?
Yes.

Fingernails?
Don't push it, woman.

Those for me?
From everyone at the station.

To welcome your wife to Midsomer.
How lovely.

Sarah, this is Jones.
Jones, my wife.

Ma'am.
Sarah, please.

And I'm sure you weren't christened
Jones. Ben.

Thank you, Ben. Would you like
a coffee? No, he wouldn't.

We're working.
Well, drop by anytime, Ben.

Thank you.
Thank you.

She didn't mean that - dropping by.

No, sir. Of course not.

Sense of humour.
Delusions of grandeur.

They're here.

Inspector Barnaby.

Mr Grace.
Adam, please.

This is Maggie Viviani.
We knew your cousin.

Oh, good.

Please.

Back in the '60s, there was a guy
called Bertie Morell.

He set this place up
and then drank himself to death.

So who runs it now?
Nominally, the trustee's solicitor -

that's Laurence Fletcher.
But on a day-to-day basis,

Maggie and I just try
and keep it afloat.

So, Gerry Dawkins. Duck pond.

It's just the kids having
a bit of fun. It's no big deal.

It was assault.

Yes. Inspector, could you please
convey our apologies to Mr Dawkins?

And tell him that if he wants us
to fill in his forms,

he should send them
to each person here individually

and they will...attend to them
accordingly.

You mean chuck them in the bin.

Well, we don't tell each other
what to do.

We are individuals, Mr Barnaby.

'We are individuals.'

'We are a pack of plonkers.'

Not keen on artists, Jones?
Well, not the modern ones.

I mean, Jackson Pollock,
paint dripping.

What's all that about?
I don't know.

Maybe he had an intuition
for the nature of chaotic motion

and was attempting a mathematical
representation of that chaos.

Tell me about this Laurence Fletcher.

Er...solicitor.

A bit tricky.
Known locally as Loophole Larry.

Jones.

Hello, Mr Dawkins.

I have something important to relate
regarding our ongoing investigation.

And what's that?
If you come to my office,

I'll tell you all about it.

Mr Dawkins, we do have
other business to attend to.

It is very important.
Right. Fine.

We'll be back at the station
later this afternoon.

You can drop by then. OK?
But - Wants us to do house calls.

You OK?

It's not right.

Nobody ever gets things
right and precise.

I have to go out, meet someone.

It's not in your diary.
Not everything is, Jane.

Three, two, one, drop.

Three, two, one, drop.

Don't play in the road.

Poohsticks.
Sorry?

Winnie the Pooh. You each drop
a stick into the water,

then run across the bridge
to see whose stick comes out first

on the other side.
And it's a good way to get run over.

Childhood, Jones.
Hang on to the poetry.

Yes, sir.

William?

I'm up here.

I think I heard the doorbell ring.

No, I doubt that, my dear.

I think I did.
No. Not likely.

There. See?

Yes. Yes.

I see what you mean.
But it wouldn't be for us.

Well, it's not Wednesday or anything,
is it?

No, but it is our bell.

But not our business, darling.
Not our business.

Are you sure?
Absolutely.

Thank you, darling.
I'll be in my study.

See you for coffee and biscuits
at 11:00.

What a truly wonderful idea.

What do we know
about the Binghams?

They're said to be a bit reclusive.

Their two children...died way back
in a tragic accident.

Youngest surviving daughter
and her husband

own the stud farm part of the estate.
He's running for local Euro MP,

so he must be bent.

Well, they're not replying.

We'll try the back.

Renovations are a bit behind.

Whoa. Hold it.

What's that?

That's a tripwire.

Watch this.

That's a distress flare.
Is that legal?

A great burglar alarm.

Hello. What are you doing?

You've set off one of his fireworks.
He hates that.

Hi, Verity. It's me.

Salsa classes. Remember?

Oh, Jonesy. Hi!

Where's your nice uniform?

I'm a detective now.

Oh. Shame.

We were hoping to see the Binghams.

No chance. The oldies
never see anyone. They are so weird.

I've only met them once

and my dad has been married to
Selina for...ten years.

We were also hoping to see
your parents.

Sure. Why not?

Er...Mrs Bitch,
my wicked stepmother,

is in the covering shed
with our stud manager, Ben Viviani.

Real hunk.

Two Bens.

And daddy is stamping around
in a bad mood

because the selection committee
thinks he's common, which he is.

And there's a stallion
who's giving us a terrible time

because -
Verity. Too much information.

Oh. Sorry, sorry.

It's just what Ben says -
'You talk too much.'

My Ben, that is.

Is there any young woman round here
you haven't dated?

Just looking for the right one.

How did you know Mrs Barnaby
was right for you?

She told me.

Ah. Yeah.

See. That's the mare who's come to be
covered by the stallion, Garrick Boy,

who's being a bit loony today.

Why?
God knows.

They are so highly strung.
Pure nerves and energy.

Slightest thing and they get in
a total strop.

All right, quick as you like.

What are you doing?
He won't go to her.

Something's upset him.
What? I don't know.

Well, you should know. He doesn't
function, we drop 100 grand.

Get your mother over here, get her
to do her horse whispering stuff.

And get that hunk of animated
pet food back on the job.

Who are you?

Oh, for crying out loud!
I did not assault anyone.

I gently escorted him to his car

and asked him to get off
our property.

And there were no threats of any kind
of violence whatsoever.

The man's a fantasist.
And we are quite capable

of looking after
our own family members,

however bonkers they are.

Excuse me. Those are my parents.
Yeah, well, they owe me big time.

I do all the work, I pay all the
bills, I keep this place afloat.

But oh, no, nutty mummy and daddy
have to live in the big house.

Well, it is their home.

If they left there,
they'd disintegrate. Good!

About time they did something
worthwhile.

I'm sorry, Chief Inspector.
It's been a trying day.

This is very simple.
Let me see your parents,

so I can vouch for their well being
to the Social,

and I'm sure all this will go away.
My parents will only communicate

through their solicitor,
Laurence Fletcher. Go through him.

He will then write to my parents,
then they will write back to him.

And they'll say no anyway.

Let's see if I can't help you
focus on this problem.

Get Gerry Dawkins in to check up
on your parents within two days

or it will become an official matter
for the police.

OK?

Jones.

Hiya.

Hi, Mum.

My darling boy!

Come here.

Oh. And how are you?

I'm fine. I'm fine.

There's something wrong -
I can hear it.

Oh, well, Garrick Boy is playing up

and I was hoping you could come over
and have a word.

Yes, of course.
Thanks.

And?

Nothing. It's all cool.

Verity?

Yeah, she's great.

Really. It's all good.

Mm-hm.

What?

Hey, guys.
Let's play Poohsticks again.

Three, two, one, drop.

I bet mine's
gonna come across first.

See it?

What's that?

What is it?

Gerry with a 'G'.

Over here!

Multiple facial
and upper body wounds

and an indentation
at the back of the skull.

What do you think?

Turned his canoe over,
banged his head, unconscious,

dragged along the bottom
until he drowned.

I'll do a full PM and call you.

There you go.

He wanted to talk to me
and I fobbed him off.

And now he's dead.

Yes. Yes, he is.

So, what would you have done?
Sorry?

Well, someone really irritates you,
you put them on the back burner.

I mean, how was I supposed to know.
Jones. Yes, sir?

This circus,
this death in the afternoon -

what is it not about?

It's not about me.
Ergo, therefore, in parallel. Hmm?

It's not about me either.

It's about mechanics, logistics,
evidence...

and what sort of salad we make of
those wonderful ingredients.

Fine, fine.

Make me feel better, then

Oh, for God's sake, come on!

Where the hell is your damn mother?!
I'm right here, Selina.

About time. This one's driving us
insane and costing us serious money.

He might not be so nervy
if you stopped yelling at him.

And everyone else.

Yes, thank you. Just do your stuff
and keep your lectures to yourself.

Hello, boy.

What's going on, then, hmm? Come on.
Let's have a chat.

Just you and me. Nice and quiet.
Come on.

Come on. Come on, boy.

Have people been shouting at you?
Is that all it is?

He's calmer already.

So you're not feeling quite yourself?
Hmm? Stand. Stand.

I'd like to see you
up at the house later.

Erm...Selina.
What?

I'm pretty busy today. I've got
a couple of mares coming in later.

Ben, this is my business
and you are my employee.

I'll decide when you're busy.

Good boy. There you go.

So what's bugging him?
He's got a dental problem,

which is stopping him
chewing properly.

His food isn't digesting
and hence compacting in his gut,

giving him severe gripe,
which puts him off his oats -

both literal and metaphorical.

He told you all that, did he?

Yes, he did.

Take it or leave it. I don't care.

I'll see you all soon. Bye, darling.

Thanks, Mum.

Why does she always smile at me?
Why is she so nice?

Maybe she likes you.
Ha! Unlikely.

Right, call the vet, then.

And I'll see you at 4:00.

And don't be late.

So Miss Morris...
Jane.

Jane.

You say he had a call
before he called me.

Yes, and it got him a bit rattled.

He was going on about it being
contrary to departmental procedures

for them to meet.
But he didn't say who it was. No.

And you didn't hear whether it was
a man or a woman? No.

Then he went canoeing.
He said he was going to meet someone

but obviously he went canoeing.

Did he often go canoeing in
the middle of the day? I don't know.

He always had that thing
on top of his car.

He was often out checking up
on people, so maybe he did.

How was he regarded
in the department?

He was known as
The Witchfinder General.

Not too popular?
Universally disliked.

Won't be missed by anyone.
That's a bit tough.

You asked me a question. It would be
a waste of time if I wasn't honest.

Not many people think like that.

Hmm. La-di-da.

Are you married?
I'm not going out with you.

I didn't ask you to.
Hmm. But you would have.

I fit your search profile to a T.

Here's his diary.
You see this afternoon?

MV and AG.

Maggie Viviani and Adam Grace,
before you ask. Thank you.

He also printed off
a map of the moon.

I haven't a clue.

Would you like to ask me
anything else?

No. No.

I wouldn't dare.

The moon?
Yeah. Seems weird.

You want to come in now?
I have got a job to go to.

That's his stuff.
His clothes peg, his helmet.

So he wouldn't ever have gone out
in the wrong gear?

Not our Gerry with the 'G'.

A stickler for form, he is. Was.

Certainly wouldn't have gone on the
water without his precious crash lid.

Popular member of the club?
Not really. In fact, not at all.

Get up your nose like a rocket,
he could.

Total pain.

Rest in peace, of course. No er...

No disrespect.

Hey.
Right on time.

Erm...the vet's been.

He agreed with mum's diagnosis,
so he's filed the tooth

and given the boy something
to clear the blockage. Good.

Verity and Eddie are out
for a couple of hours,

so we'd better get about
our business.

Look, if it's OK...

..I'd rather not.

Why would you rather not?

It's...p-personal.

Personal?
Yeah.

Ben, let me explain things to you.

I'm not interested in
your personal life.

But as your employer, I am interested
in you doing what I want when I want.

Yeah, but -
No, no. No buts, Ben.

Just do as I ask and you'll go far.

Don't and you won't.

I haven't a clue why he had
our initials in his diary.

I mean, we didn't make
an appointment with him.

Definitely not.

There's not much in public records
about you people. Us people?

Yes.

In some countries, they think that
if you take their photos,

you're stealing their souls.
And maybe we feel

that if you know too much about us,
you're capturing ours.

I think it's more about benefits
than souls.

Where were you both earlier today?

I was checking out a barn
for our summer exhibition.

I went over to the Bingham place to
help my son with a fractious horse.

What do you do with horses?

I talk to them.

What?
Horses...

Animals in general
like to talk to me.

What, like Doctor Doolittle?
Just because some things

don't come in your
Little Book of Knowledge

doesn't mean you can mock them.
No, no. I'm genuinely interested.

I have a dog that I talk to,

but it's pretty much
a one-way thing.

Well, I've always had an empathy
with animals, particularly horses.

I call it talking, but it's really
just a sort of feeling

I get from them.
And can you do it with people?

Oh, yes. That's easy.

Well, you, for instance,
are reasonably content

with your lot in life.

Whereas your chum here
is full of frustration

at the state of his.

But that's certainly common
with unmarried men in their 30s.

If you talk to God, that's fine.
God talks to you. Blah-de-blah.

Ditto animals.
Open mind, Jones.

Murder is not the consequence
of rational behaviour.

Now, Bingham's dodgy solicitor -
where do I find him today?

Ah. Yearling sales. Him and Stanton.

So the Burtley fillie
out of that great winning mare

whose the down of six winners already
from only seven faults of racing age.

At 8,000 I've got. At 8,000 I'm bid.
Oi!

This fillie's
far too cheap, sir.

Barnaby, Fletcher.
Fletcher, Barnaby.

Heard a lot about you, Inspector.
And me you, Mr Fletcher.

Well, I've got to go and bid.

I've told Larry you want to see
the old geezers.

And of course,
I'd love to be able to help you,

but erm...the Binghams
are a really eccentric couple

and they tend to refuse any requests
for meetings. I'm really sorry.

Mr Fletcher,
I am investigating a murder

and I am going to talk to
your clients right now.

This was just a courtesy meeting
to inform you of my actions.

Inspector, this isn't
the big city here.

In Midsomer,
we do things differently.

A different pace,
different emphasis.

We do things our way.

No, Mr Fletcher, when it comes to
the law, we do things my way.

Call your clients now.

?19,000.
On the right at 19,000 I've got.

You're out here
and you're out there.

Well, that wasn't too painful,
was it?

No, it was nice.

Thank you.

Thank YOU.

Still, can't hang about.

They'll be back soon.

So, what am I gonna do about Verity?

Er...how do you mean?

Well, she's flopping around
like some spaniel puppy,

so she must be in love.
But as she hasn't told me who it is,

I can only presume it's some
ghastly local inbred. Really?

Anyway, I'm arranging for her
to live in London for a while.

So with a bit of luck, she'll meet
a nice cash machine banker

who'll cart her off into the sunset.

Don't touch it!

Selina.

Yes, Eddie. What do you want?
I'm busy.

Oh, God. How boring.
Yes, all right. I'll deal with it.

Bye.

That's all I bloody need -
that policeman's coming over.

Oh, God. It's him already.

Ben, quick. Let him in.

Let him in!

Oh, hi.

Ben, isn't it?
Yeah.

Oh. I was just doing some work
in the bathroom.

Mrs Stanton around?

Erm...
Hello, Inspector.

My husband said you were coming.

Ben, finish off later.

So, I gather you insist
on seeing my parents.

With the death of Gerry Dawkins -

Oh, yes. Yes.

So, so sad. Such an interesting man.

I was hoping you might be able
to accompany me

so that I don't alarm your parents.
It might be the other way round.

Come along, then.

Mummy, Daddy, open up! It's me.

You're wasting your time.
They're totally doolally.

William Bingham?
Yes.

Detective Chief Inspector
John Barnaby.

Oh, yes.
We heard you were dropping by.

Oh, how jolly nice of you.

How do you do?

And how are you, darling girl?

How's that pony of yours, Topper?

He's been dead for 30 years, Daddy.

Really? Oh, how sad.

Oh, I am sorry.

Well, look. Do come on in.

Come in.

Mary's sliced the Battenberg
and put the kettle on for tea.

Or would you prefer
something stronger?

Thou must be over the yard arm
somewhere or over.

Tea would be fine.

Hmm.

You'll have to forgive the clutter.
The cleaning lady's on hols

and Mary's not too au fait
with the old vacuum cleaner.

Oh, Jennifer,
how good of you to come.

Selina, Mummy.

Oh, no, of course.
And is this your husband?

This is John Barnaby,
the new chief rozzer in Causton.

Oh, really? How nice.

Erm...and where were you before?

Brighton.
Oh.

Mods and rockers. How nice.

Please, all of you, do sit down.

So, Chief Inspector,

I'm sure this wasn't entirely
a social call.

Oh, you are so impatient, William.

A fellow at the Social Security
department, Gerry Dawkins,

happened to mention to us that you
haven't been taking the benefits

to which you're entitled.
Dawkins.

No, I was in the army with a Dawkins.
Yorkshire chap.

Now, erm...are you
a milk in first man?

I do hope so.
Thank you.

Milk in first would be fine.

I gather you suffered rather a tragic
family accident some years back.

Do you shoot?
Or are you a hunting fellow?

Hmm. Or fishing?

Well, I like fishing.

It's been very nice meeting you, sir.

Anytime, anytime.

And Mrs Bingham,
thank you for the tea.

You must come again. I would so like
to talk further with you.

I'd enjoy that.
Please.

Yes, yes.
Please, let the poor man go now.

I warned you.

So what did happen
all those years ago?

I was only eight at the time.

My elder brother and sister
were in a speeding car

that ended up in the river
where they both drowned.

I'm sorry.
Yes.

They were a lot older than me.

In fact, I think I was an
afterthought or a mistake,

knowing those two old dope heads.

I'm sorry?

The sixties - those two were into
everything going.

They seem very erm...
traditional now.

That's not them. They got those
old quaint duck characters

from watching the telly.
Must have been a shock.

Yes, for all of us.

I adored my sister.

Whenever I fell off my pony,
Jenny was always there hugging me,

kissing me, wiping away my tears
with a red spotted handkerchief.

Did it affect you much?
Of course it did.

You don't get to be a bitch like me
without good cause.

You haven't had any children
together, then? No, thank you.

Not after what happened to
the children in our family.

Besides, Eddie's rubbish in bed, so
it probably wouldn't happen anyway.

Oh, what a beauty!

Excuse me.

Take her to the loose box.
I want to have a look at her.

So, how did you get on
with the nutters?

Mr and Mrs Bingham
were very interesting.

Loafers - all the Binghams.
Too much money, not enough graft.

Where did the money come from?

That was old Frank Bingham,
way back.

He sold cheap, lousy food to the MoD
for the soldiers in World War I.

Made a packet,
then set up huge trust funds

they've all lived off ever since.

When do those trusts expire?

When those old loons
pop their clogs.

Then Selina inherits the capital

and Eddie Stanton will be laughing
all the way to Europe.

Where were you earlier
this afternoon? Round and about.

Precisely.

I was er...with a friend
who I occasionally drop in on.

You mean a woman.
Yes, of course a woman.

Could I have her name, please?
No, you couldn't.

I'm a gentleman.

You come up with a charge,
I'll answer it.

Meanwhile, toodle-pip.

Oh, Josephine.

John, this is Josephine Parker,
my deputy head.

Miss Parker.
I was just telling your wife

how wonderful it is
to have all this new blood

running everything in Causton
these days.

Can we give you a lift, Miss Parker?
Oh, I'm fine.

Buses have always been good enough
for me. Bye.

My new best friend

William.

Oh.

Oh, darling. You startled me.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I was just wondering if you'd
done anything about dining tonight.

Oh, course.

Rang the Connaught.
Had a word with Marcel.

He says that our quatre saisons
with extra capers

will be here in two shakes
of a vodka martini.

Oh, you are such a man of the world.

And you're a woman of grace and
elegance.

We make a splendid couple.

Quite the talk of the town.
Yes.

What were you writing?
What?

Oh, nothing, nothing.
Bit of this, bit of that.

Snippets of family history.
Just trinkets, my love.

Not a vast amount of water in the
lungs,

so the first impact as he rolled over

must have knocked him cold,
preventing any gulping of water.

The facial injuries are consistent
with being severely bounced

upside down along the river bed.

What about this indentation in the
back of the head?

Probably swirled around a bit.
I don't know much about canoeing.

Well, in the first place canoeists
usually wear helmets

and secondly they don't go
canoeing...in their office clothes.

As I say, it's a world I know very
little about.

Maybe you should get out more.

I've been down the town hall and
there's no record of Maggie Viviani

prior to the birth of her son Ben.

So why isn't he called Ben Grace?

There's no record of any marriage,
only Adam named as father.

What do we know about him?
He's fully documented and legit.

Supposedly quite a good artist.

So who's Viviani?
I don't know, sir.

Did you ask Maggie?
I did.

She said her existence began with
herself.

'Before me there was nothing of me.'

And what did you say to
that?

I told her she had three outstanding
parking fines.

Are you looking for something?

What gave you that idea?
Just a hunch.

I'm looking for case files
from 35 years ago.

Anything over ten years old gets sent
to the central files warehouse.

Which is where?

Which is burnt down ten years ago.
I love this place.

If you want to know something from way
back, you talk to the local gossips.

So who is the expert on Causton?

Nosey Parker. At the school.

Real name Josie Parker but -
Yes, yes, I think I know her.

And Bingham country? Who would be
the keeper of the gossip over there?

Probably my gran.

Your gran.
Yeah.

Eddie Stanton claims to have a
mistress.

Would your gran happen to know who
that poor woman might be?

I'll check.

No, it's fine, Larry. They were off
the planet as usual. Yeah?

Barnaby went on his way none the
wiser.

Yeah, yeah we'll keep an eye on it.

Watching brief.

Nice one, son. Bye-bye.

Wish I got a hundred grand a time.
We'd still be broke.

Oh, that's very nice. Very charming.
Thank you so much. Er, Daddy?

Yes, darling.
I have, erm...something to tell you.

Yeah.

I want to get married.
No, I am getting married.

Who to?
To someone of my own choosing.

And I don't intend to be sent to
London

to be sold off to some boring banker.

Well, blimey, darling.
That's a bit of a flanker.

So, er, who is it? Oh, um...
Rupert thingy?

No Charles?
It's Ben.

Ben...
Ben Viviani.

What?!
I love him and he loves me.

Yeah, but...
You want me to be happy, don't you?

Of course. And Ben is the best
manager you have ever had?

I suppose.
So what's the problem?

Um, I dunno.

I was just thinking differently for
my girl.

But erm, if you love him.

What do you think, Selina?

You all right, doll?

So sciences have to be double
periods

otherwise you waste too much time on
the setups.

Oh, hello, darling. You remember
Josie Parker, don't you?

Just the person I wanted to see.

So where were the Binghams' children
going?

Well, no-one knew but they did have
luggage -

quite a lot of luggage -
so it wasn't just for a weekend.

How fascinating. Of course I only got
it from my old Aunt Louisa,

but she got it from old Jonathan
Frost

who was the Binghams' family doctor.
Ah.

But he intimated to Louisa

that there had been some sort of
family row

and that they were leaving home
for good.

What was the row about?
I don't know.

My Aunt Louisa died before she could
pass on the full story.

Sorry. Frog.

Switch her on!

Selina! Oh, this is a nice surprise.

Do I detect a certain hostility in
your body language?

Perhaps you'd like to tell me what
the problem is

before you eviscerate me.
I'd hate to die in ignorance.

Verity wants to marry your son.

Is this not a cause for celebration?
No, it isn't.

Ben, your dear little son, is my
lover.

Oh, my...

Oh, my...
This wedding is not going to happen.

I just thought I'd tell you that.

Oh, Selina.
You don't know what you've done.

One way or another I am going to
stop it.

So...smile your way through that one.

Selina.
What?

If you attempt to interfere, if you
even think about it, I will expose you.

Midsomer's own Mrs Robinson
sexually harassing her employees.

You wouldn't do it. You're too nice.

I would and I'm not.

So I suggest you stop waving the
kitchenware around,

accept the inevitable and pretend to
be happy about it.

You can always find yourself another
plaything.

George, I need records.

Ours went up in smoke but people do
not die in horrendous accidents

without medical reports being filed
all over the place.

I'm not getting shirty, I'm getting
efficient.

An investigation cannot function on
gossip alone.

Good. Thank you.
An obvious place to look.

I'll see you there at 11.
Bye, George.

You gone off gossip?

I think it should occasionally be
seasoned with hard facts.

You're not going to like this, then.

What about her?
She's Eddie Stanton's fancy woman.

Don't be ridiculous. That's what
I said but my Gran insisted.

Said she'd seen him going in there.
Regularly. With her own eyes.

How are her eyes?
Sharp as a ferret's.

Morning. Aaah...

You found it.

I'm not saying they will be there but
if they still exist,

this is where you'll find them.

Very cavalier attitude towards
records round here.

No wonder Gerry Dawkins was driven
insane.

I can't go down there myself.
What?

The dust. It gets on my lungs.

I suggest you use one of these.

Can't you use one?
No, they're pretty useless.

Dr Williams to
reception, please.

Barnaby.

Mrs Bingham. How can I help you?

I want to tell you all about life in
Midsomer Parva.

I want you to come to tea.

'This afternoon.'

I'd be delighted.
Four o'clock.

I'll be there. Bye, Mrs Bingham.

Pwoar!

Found anything?

Mm. Coroner's report into the death
of the young Binghams.

Robin and Jennifer.

Verdict, accidental death.

What's interesting there?

I don't know.
'Death'.

Singular. Autopsy report on only one
Robin's.

Jennifer, open verdict.
Why?

Because Jennifer's body was never
found.

Yeah, well, it's understandable.

No. No, it isn't.

Bodies do not disappear in a river

unless it's a wide estuary running
out to sea.

Bodies bloat and float.

Or divers find them wedged under tree
roots.

They do not disappear in small
rivers.

I'm missing something. Something really
obvious which is on the edge of my mind.

We better have a case review, then.
Yes, yes.

Oh, dear! Thick as two planks.

Look! Hospital, doctors.
Nosey Parker!

Of course I only got it from my old
Aunt Louisa

but she got it from old Jonathan
Frost

who was the Bingham's family doctor.

Jonathan Frost -
ring any local bells?

From way back, yeah.
Good. Find out if he's still alive.

And if he is, see what you can get
out of him re. the Bingham story.

What about patient confidentiality?

Jones, think laterally.

That's what DCI Barnaby used to say.

Yes, yes, yes.
We got it from our uncle.

Where will you be?
Checking out a scarlet woman.

Give her my number.
That's your problem, Jones.

You come across as desperate.

Thanks for that, sir.

Mr Barnaby! Is anything wrong?

No, no. Just passing.
Wondered if I could have a word?

Of course, I do understand.

What with you being new here.

Along with your wife.

I suppose you need someone to tell
you what's been happening here

for the many many years before you
both arrived.

So how can I help you?

Well, it might be interesting if you
told me a bit about yourself first.

Really?
Mm.

Well, what would you like to know?

Have you ever been married?

No.

Had offers of course.
Of course. But no children.

I think the answer to that

is the natural corollary to your
previous question.

Yes, of course. But you know -
modern times. Never can tell.

Maybe in your Brighton, but in
Midsomer,

deputy head teachers do not have
children out of wedlock.

Right. And how about, erm...friends?

Mr Barnaby, exactly what are you
asking here?

What is your relationship with Eddie
Stanton?

And what business is that of yours?

I am a police officer investigating
a murder.

Did Mr Stanton spend part of
yesterday afternoon here with you?

Yes, he did.

He always comes round on Wednesday
afternoons.

Regular as clockwork.
I see.

I don't think you see at all.
No?

There is nothing untoward in our
relationship.

Ah.

Did he...suggest otherwise?

He implied you were his mistress.

Mistress! Me?

As if I'd have anything to do with
such a common little oik.

So why was he here?

I am his book keeper.

Book keeper.
Yes, I...

I keep track of his actual financial
peregrinations

which he then passes on to his
accountant -

I suspect with his own colourful
amendments.

He's on the fiddle?
He's the whole damn string section.

And now I suppose I'm compromised.

You haven't done anything illegal.
But I hold a position of trust.

Here. Have these.

They're a present
for you and your wife.

Welcome to Midsomer.

What you have to understand, Mr
Barnaby, is the morality of the time.

I mean our parents were really
Edwardians.

Social evolution was delayed by two
world wars,

so when the young - us -

oh... eventually broke free,

I suppose we did go a little wild,

crossed certain boundaries,
defied the old gods

and replaced them with...

What did we replace them with?

Not a lot.

Nothing at all.

Ah, my babies, my children.

I am so very sorry.

I can't give you back your lost
years,

your lost lives...

..but maybe I can make some small
amends.

Is that you, William?

Mr Barnaby?

Oh, who is it, please?

Oh, do speak out.

My eyesight isn't very good but
my...my hearing is excellent.

He is sitting over there by the
river.

Dr Frost?

Yes?

That's all right, I've had
breakfast.

Er...doctor said that I'd picked up
some passing virus.

That's why I was sick.
Oh, right.

But I'm better now

and I just want to congratulate you
on your engagement.

Thank you.

And Ben...

welcome to the family.

Thanks.

Give me a kiss, then.

I hope you're both very happy.

Scary.

The river Styx, Mr Jones.

The river you cross on the way to
Hades.

Very close, isn't it?

The younger Binghams, sir?

I can't tell you.

Doctor-patient confidentiality.

They are both dead, sir.

But their parents aren't.

The thing is, sir, it's very
difficult to get

all the pieces of the jigsaw together

and work out where we are on this
one.

The elder Binghams are a bit
off the air these days.

Of course they are.
Have been for years.

Not surprising after what they got
up to.

Ah, the shooting fellow.

Ah, Mary's expecting you.
Come in, come in.

Do you play cricket?

I do, sir. Excellent. I'll have a
word with the skip.

Might be able to fit you in. Hm?

Look, just wanted to warn you That
Mary's not quite as sharp

as she once was, so you'll have to
take what she says

with a good pinch of salt. Hm?

I'll bear that in mind, sir.
Mary! Mary!

Oh, she doesn't seem to be here.

Oh, I'll just go and chase her up.

She was here. Mary!

Mary!

Mary!

Oh... oh...

OK, is she? All tickety boo?

I think maybe murder could transcend

your loyalty to dead patients,
Doctor.

So you're rewriting our code of
ethics now, are you?

Gerry Dawkins -
Dawkins was a pain in the arse!

You knew him?

He was here last week asking the same
questions as you.

OK, OK...

Let me put it this way.

If I go back to my governor with no
information

I could have a severe career dip.

Self interest. I love it!

Well, at least it's honest.

So why were the Bingham children
leaving home?

I will proffer nothing...
but I will listen to speculation.

OK, OK...

Erm, money scandal? Gambling debts?

Er, drugs? Robin was dealing?

Er, Jennifer.

Jennifer was pregnant?

Who by?

Was it someone local?

You'd better answer the wretched
thing, then.

What?!

Heart attack.

Excuse me? Mountain of newspapers
falling on her?

Was not what she actually died from.
Could've triggered it.

So an induced heart attack. Someone
pushed the papers on top of her.

Or she pulled them herself.
Accidents do happen, you know.

So you keep telling me.
Yes, I kept telling her.

I kept telling her.
What did you tell her, sir?

Well, just because you've got someone
coming to tea

doesn't mean you have to go mad with
the tidying up.

She was very house proud, you see.

Yes, come on, Daddy, you come with
us now. She'll be all right.

Bit of a breather and she'll be right
back on form.

No, Mary's a good 'un.
Yes, come on.

Jones, where have you been?

I was on the verge of getting some
vital information

when I was interrupted by my
commanding officer.

So what did you learn before this
interruption?

That Jennifer was pregnant
and that's probably

why she was thrown out the family home.

Hm. Bit extreme.

And who was the father and why was
the son kicked out as well?

I don't know. Dr Frost went off in a
huff when my phone went.

Maybe you should switch your phone
off while you're doing interviews.

There was a directive about that five
years ago. Pardon me for missing it!

What's this?

8.1N115.1E

Map reference?

Somewhere in the middle of Borneo.

Little outside our parish.

Or, according to this, a sequence of
places in space.

Precede the map refs with the word
'moon'.

Whoa. Jackpot.

Moon crater names and that reference
is a crater called Bingham.

They've got a moon crater named after
them?

No. After Hiram J. Bingham.

'An American explorer who discovered

the Inca capital of Machu Pichu in
1911.'

I don't get it.

It's a link between two deaths so
there must be something.

Check the rest of the crater names.

There's hundreds of them.

Try these first.
I'm going to see your Dr Frost.

You failed Jones, so I'm going to
have to do it for you.

Thanks superman, what would we do
without you

How long ago?
Within the hour.

I'm sorry.
Did you tell him I was coming?

I went to tell him but he had
already passed.

He had a visitor earlier.
One of yours I believe.

Then he went for a lie down after
lunch and slipped gently away.

Not a bad way to go.

Thing is doctor, I have this idea
that could stitch this one together

and I have a funny feeling you know
what I'm talking about.

Being a meticulous sort of person...

..I hope you wrote it all down
for me.

Could save a lot of time.

No, no, no, no, no, no. I'm sorry,
I've had enough of all this.

No more questions, no more bollocks.
I'm calling my lawyer.

Good. I wanted to see Mr Fletcher
again.

What's happening?

Yeah, Larry... Yeah, get yourself
over here.

You got it.

The new boy.

He's on his way.
Good.

Hello, everyone.
What's she doing here?

God knows, Selina.
What are any of us doing here?

You are all helping the police with
their enquiries.

Oh, no, we're not.
Eddie, do shut up.

Just get on with it, Inspector.
Thank you.

Ms Viviani, Mr Grace -
good afternoon.

Good afternoon. What do you want?

We know why you fail to appear on
many governmental databases.

Amaze me. Because Viviani is not
your real name.

Give that man a prize.

Jones.

Viviani is the name of a crater on
the moon

named after Vincenzo Viviani -
a pupil of Galileo.

Well, ain't that interesting

And the adjoining crater?

Is called Bingham.

Now, there's a coincidence.

Two proximate families here on earth
with the same names

as two neighbouring craters somewhat
more distant.

Excuse me, my brain is hurting.
What is this crap?

Where is your father?
I don't know.

Talking to the fairies somewhere,
up at the big house. Who cares?

Jones.
Sir.

What is going on?

Let me outline a possible sequence of
events that would get us all to this,

our current map reference.

1975.

Young Jennifer Bingham is being banished
from the family home for being pregnant.

What are you doing?

But her brother, Robin Bingham,
drives too fast

and the car plunges into the river.

Yes, and my brother and sister are
both killed

and my life starts going down the
toilet. So what's new?

Quite a lot, actually.

Robin doesn't have a chance. He's
unconscious. He drowns.

But Jennifer is a fighter.

She survives.

She makes her choice.

She crosses the river.

And on the other side a strong young
man welcomes her to a new life.

Adam takes her back to the artists'
colony where he looks after her.

And, in due course, she has her
child, whom she calls Ben.

Jennifer Bingham becomes Maggie

and adopts the surname Viviani

because she loves astronomy and
because she knows her moon craters.

Viviani - next to Bingham.

You're Jenny? My sister Jenny?

Sorry, kid.

But I loved you.

I loved you.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

Why didn't you tell me you were
still alive?

Because you would have wanted to know
everything.

What everything?
What else can there be?

It was the shame, wasn't it?

That was what made you hide away.

What shame?

Robin, your big brother, was also
expelled from the Bingham Camelot.

Why was that?

Come on. Tell me. Why?
Work it out, child.

Well, after the Sixties nobody got
chucked out

for being unmarried and pregnant.

But getting pregnant...
by your brother.

Well, even for our pothead parents,
that was a bit beyond the pale.

Brother.
I love this family.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

And you still had plans, didn't you,
Maggie?

What plans?

Well, you might have lost the farm

but maybe Ben could win it back for
you.

You taught him all you knew about
horses,

you insinuated him into his job here

and no doubt encouraged his courtship
of Verity so that one day,

if they married, the Bingham estate
might revert to its rightful heirs.

Mum?
No! That's...

Well, maybe a bit. Subconsciously.

A mother being ambitious for her
child. What's so wrong with that?

Hi, everyone. How's it all going?

You shut up. Keep digging, Barnaby.

Then up pops Gerry Dawkins who has
discovered Maggie's true identity.

I have something important to relate
regarding our ongoing investigation.

Just a minute, Sherlock.
I had nothing to do with that.

Then poor Mary Bingham decides it's
time

she unburdened herself of the truth.

She asked to talk to me.

You must come again. I would so like
to talk further with you.

I'd enjoy that.
Please.

Yes, yes. Thank you. Let the poor man
go now.

Well, I didn't know that.
No.

No, you didn't.

But someone did.

Me?
If your mother told the whole story,

how would that affect your standing
in the community?

The hunt, the golf club?
Could be a lot of doors closing.

But, I didn't -
But you didn't know the full story.

That was obvious from your behaviour
just now.

No. No. Right. I didn't know
anything.

If I may step in here as the family's
legal representative -

And the trustee of the Bingham
estate.

Yes.

Nice little earner that one?
I bet it is.

So long as no-one looks too closely
at how you and Eddie here

handle the finances of his wife's
estate.

What? What's he talking about?

Er, nothing, doll. Nothing.

I had a chat with Josie Parker.

And the local tax office.

I would like to say -
Better if you don't say -

Would you shut up?

This has nothing to do with
anything.

Just false accounting, is it?
Milking the estate?

Something you'd keep quiet at any
cost.

No, no, no. Look, whatever that is,
I haven't done anything.

Anything.

Well, not murder.

One penny out of place and you are
so dead. And you.

Excuse me, but where does all this
leave Ben and me?

Er, you're fine.
Press on with your own lives.

But aren't we sort of...
relatives or something?

There are no blood ties.

It's not like you're first cousins
or uncles or...aunts or anything.

You all right, doll?

Come here, come here, come here,
come here.

Come on. Such a brave girl.

I've found Bingham, sir.
You'd better come. Quickly.

Don't cry now, be a brave girl.

No more tears. It's all right.

Hello, William.

What ho?

Ah, it's the shooting fellow, isn't
it?

What are you doing up there?

Well, you know.

A little nearer my god to thee.

Would you mind coming down, please?

Well, I would, actually.

You see, I've got this
thingummy up here.

And what's that, William?

Well, I may have told you, I think -
I was in the army, you know? Yes.

Not for long. I was one of the last
to do national service.

But they did teach a chap to do one
useful thing.

And what was that?
Well, how to make big bangs.

And bomb thingies.

Really? Yes. With stuff you could get
from the local chemists.

You know bit of sulphur, potassium
permanganate, magnesium strip.

Easy peasy.

Yeah, I blew up a squash court once.

And is that what you've got there?

No, no, no, no.

I'm not silly, you know.
Good.

No. This is just the detonating
device.

Yes, the little bomb's up there in
the rafters.

See? In the custard cream tin.

Oh, God.

You can't get them anymore.
Good biscuit tins.

Back stairs.
He's really flipped this time.

Mr Stanton, keep everyone well back
and call the emergency services.

I've got a shotgun if you want to
bring him down. Go.

Everybody back beyond the drive.
He's got a bloody bomb in there.

Oh, my...
Daddy! Daddy!

So...William...

What's the plan?

Mary's dead, isn't she?

Yes, I'm afraid so.

Yes, I knew it at the time,
of course.

But it wasn't sort of going in.

Anyway, no fun without the old
stick,

so I thought I might go and join her
up there.

And what makes you think you'll be
going 'up there'?

Well, why shouldn't I?

Because I think your God probably
knows what you did.

What did I do?

You committed two murders, William.

Did I?
I think so.

And why did I do that?

Guilt, William.

Deep, coruscating, soul-destroying
guilt

at your behaviour as young parents.

You and your wife epitomised the free
spirit of the age.

It was all get out there, have fun,
do drugs, do sex, do anything.

No taboos.

Yes. The revolution.
We were the revolution.

We were up there on the barricades.

Marat we're marching on.

Aux armes, citoyens...

Formez vos bataillons...

William. William!

What? What?

What happened?

I don't know.

You taught your children all about
free love, didn't you?

'Do what you like, kids. It's cool.'

No, no.

But then Jennifer got pregnant to her
own brother

and the train hit the buffers,
didn't it?

The party was well and truly over.

You woke up, the smoke cleared,
you looked around you.

And what did you and Mary say?

You said, 'we have sinned.
Dear God...how we have sinned.'

Oh, yes.

Yes, we had sinned.

So then you had to cast the devils
out.

You had to banish your children.

Oh, the God of Abraham.

Sacrificing Isaac. His child.

Our children.

So then you withdrew from this life
to start a life of atonement.

William. William...

How did you know your daughter was
still alive?

The horses.

Jennifer always had a way with
horses.

We heard rumours from across the
river.

Then one day she came here
with her son.

It was 20 years later but we knew it
was her...

and her son...

No, her nephew...

No, her son...

And your grandson.

Yes.

So when Ben came to work next door,

you also saw the chance of him one
day taking over the estate

and maybe helping you and Mary inch
towards redemption.

Dawkins!
What?

Gerry Dawkins comes sniffing round.

He even calls you to tell you that he
has

some earth-shattering news for you
regarding your daughter.

Right?
Yes.

You ask him to meet you at the
boatsheds.

You force him into his canoe...

..and hit him in the back of his
head.

Then you push him out into the
river...

..where he quickly overturns.

Irritating man. Busybody. He had to
go.

And I'm afraid I do too now.

No, wait! You can't go yet. You
haven't finished your confession.

You don't get absolution without
telling all.

What happened next, William?

Nothing! Nothing!

Your dear wife.

Mary wanted redemption too.

I want to tell you all about life in
Midsomer Parva.

'Your wife wanted to confess to me,
didn't she?'

I want you to come for tea.
Four o'clock.

'But you couldn't have that,
could you?

You wanted to do it your way.'

You had to stop Mary.

No, I was just sending her on ahead.

And I'm sorry but I'm afraid I must
join her. No. Jones!

Do not move.

I'm OK. I'm OK.

Pizza boxes. I love 'em.
Just stay completely still.

Come on.

Oh... Oh...

Oh, no.

I'm sorry, William...

you have to face the judges temporal
before those eternal.

Thank you.

Oh, it's so nice of you all to drop
by.

Have you come far?

Mm.
Thanks, darling.

Just pop it over there.

Second honeymoon over, is it?
Yup. Back to weekends only.

It is the weekend.
Well, except this weekend.

Term starts on Monday.
I am on a mission.

Oh. Right.

What'll happen to your recluse?

Unfit to plead. Indefinite custody.

How's things with your deputy?

She's retiring.

Really?

Any particular reason?

Not that she'd tell me.
Oh, well.

Probably for the best.

She said she bumped into you the
other day.

Oh, yes.

Do you have anything to tell me?

No.