Midsomer Murders (1997–…): Season 15, Episode 5 - The Sicilian Defence - full transcript

Teenager Harriet Farmer is attacked in woods on her way to elope with boyfriend Finn Robson and left in a coma. Finn vanishes and a year later, as the annual Bishopwood chess tournament begins, Harriet wakes up with temporary amnesia. The chess club president, unpopular writer Edward Stannington is murdered, his sole heir being his dippy aunt Vivian. Barnaby learns that Stannington is the father of a young chess prodigy whom he has disowned and was out to discredit his chess rival, Alan Robson, Finn's father, the millionaire creator of a computer chess game. Furthermore unhappily-married hotelier Arthur Potts wanted the victim to invest in his ailing business and was refused. After Harriet's father is also murdered her kindly doctor, Laura Parr, and Barnaby take the girl to the woods where she was attacked to see if she can recall the events of the previous year. Her memories eventually lead to the unmasking of the killer, a face from the past of one of the families with a revenge plan more deadly than any Sicilian Defence.

Remember these?

I try hard not to.

1996. We bought these in Puerto
Vallarta. You wore a red dress.

Los Cabos. And the dress was blue.

At least I got the year right.

We went dancing in these.

Yeah. That's tequila for you.

Right. Boxes are for charity, bags
are for recycling. Take your pick.

You can't give these to charity.

You're right. No-one's that
desperate. Recycling it is, then.

These are part of our history,
our memories.

These are $10 sombreros.
Exactly. They weren't cheap.

Come on. Put this on. Do your Clint.

I'm not doing my Clint.

Come on. Do your Clint.
You know you want to.

In this world there's
two kinds of people, my friend.

Those with loaded guns
and those who dig.

You dig.

You're wearing sombreros.

You can see
why they made him sergeant.

Why are you here on a Saturday?

Harriet Farmer woke up.




It's only the first round, Alan.

David! David!
Arthur, ssh.

We're in the middle of a tournament.

The hospital's been on the phone.

Why doesn't this case
ring much of a bell?

Look at the date. May last year.
You had the forensics conference.

Ah, yes.

Ah, the May Queen. Go on. Remind me.

Harriet Farmer,
found unconscious in the woods

on the night of
the Bishopwood Festival.

It's a nasty head wound.

Nasty enough to have put her in
a coma for the past 12 months.

Who found her?
Her dad. David Farmer.

He went looking for her
after he found a letter.

What kind of letter?

Harriet was running away with
a lad from the village. Finn Robson.

An elopement. How romantic.

There's nothing romantic
about Robson.

We reckon
the head wound's his doing.

Did he say why he assaulted her?

No. He disappeared before
we got a chance to talk to him.

So, it might not be his doing.
Then why run away?

She's not ready for interviews yet.

It's really just a few questions.

She won't be able to answer them.
She's awake, isn't she?

From a prolonged vegetative state.

Aside from her poor physical health,

her cognitive and recall abilities
have been diminished.

Right now I don't know what damage
the past year has done. So...


Excuse me.
David, we're still running tests.


Harriet, it's me.

It's me.


You're back.

Sergeant Jones.
Mr Farmer.

How are you, Harriet?

This is Sergeant Jones and er...

DCI Barnaby.

They're police officers and
they've been working on your case.

We'd like to talk to you
about what happened.

If you feel up to it.

It's all right, sweetheart.
It's all right.

Can you tell us anything about
the night you received your injury?

You'd gone to the woods. Remember?

Why would I go to the woods?

You'd arranged to meet Finn.


OK, that's it. No more.
It's all right.

You have to leave.


Excuse me, sir.

It's OK. Harriet? Harriet?

Beaten by a child. Must be galling.

His mother distracted me.
Losing your edge, I suppose.

There's nothing wrong with my edge,
as you'll find out.

Fancy your chances, do you?

There's still seven rounds to go.

You can't win seven on the trot,

Not with your end game.

Robson's a good scalp to take.

Remember, it's Stannington we want.

Do you think Harriet's OK?

It's not time to get distracted,
Jamie. Sorry.

Remember our motto.

Grand Master or nothing.
That's right. GM or nothing.

Mind your backs, please. Coming
through. Some of us are working.

Oh, give me strength.

I know they bring money in,
but you want to hear them.

Talk about boring for England.

They're going on about prawn
structures and opening gambits.

You'd think they'd have something
else to talk about, wouldn't you?

Oh, well. Good news about Harriet.

She's awake.

David got a phone call
from the hospital.

I know. Surprised me.
I'd written the kid off.

Who's this lot for, then?

Eh? Oh, Mr Barton.

Hospital discharged him.
He's got no family.

So it's down to us to feed him.
Would you rather he starved?

Rather him than us, love.

It's our duty to help the old
and the vulnerable, Arthur.

Half the village is
old and vulnerable. It all adds up.

So, I should just abandon him.
Leave him to rot on his own.

Oh, Edmund.
Edmund, have you got a minute?

I'm late.

I wondered if you'd had a chance
to look at the proposal.

I told you, I'm not interested.

But it's a great deal, Edmund.

Then you should have little trouble
finding another investor.

Well, did you win?

I always win.

Did you speak with Arthur?
We had a conversation.

And I told him to get stuffed.

Are you sure we can't help him?
Shoes off.

It's just... he's such a good egg.

Is this all the post that came?

The post, is this it?
Oh, no, a letter.

Recorded delivery.

Had to sign for it. One of those
little electronic things.

You scribble your name
with a plastic pen,

and up it comes on the screen.

Where is it?

The courier took it. I expect he
needed it for his other deliveries.

Where's the letter, Aunt Vivian?

Oh, yes. Er...

Must be important.
Just some research.

I have to go out.
Oh, right. OK.

That means it's time for you to go
back to your part of the house.

Of course. Sorry.

Bishopwood Fair.

This was shot the day
Harriet was found in the woods.

What's with all the chess?

Bishopwood's claim to fame.

Chess champion was born there
ages ago.

Scraping the barrel, aren't they?
It's a pretty lucrative barrel.

They make a lot of money
from the tournament.

There's Harriet.

That's Finn Robson.

Aw. They make a lovely couple.

Doubt David Farmer
would agree with you.

Before they got together,
Finn was a bit of a ladies' man.

Farmer feared for Harriet's virtue.

Hm. Tried to ban her from seeing
Finn, hence their decision to elope.

My dad disapproved of John
when he first met him.

Until I won him over with my charm.

He took him to the pub
and got the poor man drunk.

Very low alcohol tolerance.
Bless him.

Who's Harriet talking to there?

That's Wendy Robson, Finn's mum.

It looks a little heated.

Wendy Robson mentions them having
a conversation in her statement.

She said she congratulated Harriet
on being crowned May Queen.

That doesn't look like

The Robsons moved here in the '90s
when Alan Robson hit it big.

What's his line?

He developed a chess game
called Knight To King.

Made millions.
Clever man, then.

More like a geek.

And the geek
shall inherit the earth.

Can I help you?

Mrs Robson, it's DS Jones.

Have you found him?
No, but there's been a development.

And she can't remember anything?

It may be some time before
Harriet fully regains her memory.

You had a conversation with Harriet
on the day of the festival.

Can you tell us what it was about?

I don't recall. Probably nothing.

Did you know Harriet well?

No. No, not really.

She was... just another one
of Finn's girlfriends.

More than just a girlfriend.
They were running away together.

We only have her word on that.

Her word and the letter.

Oh, yes. The famous letter.

Why would you doubt the letter?

Harriet wouldn't be the first
to misinterpret his intentions.

Oh, the police came to tell us
that the Harriet girl is awake.

I know.

Apparently, she has amnesia.

It's temporary, we hope.

So, while we wait for her memory
to miraculously return...

you're still no closer
to finding my son.

Are you sure he wants to be found?

Finn wasn't responsible
for what happened to that girl.

He was the last person to see her.
You don't know that.

You don't know
who was in those woods.

She could've been attacked by anyone.

Like who?
I don't know.

But whatever happened out there,

my son is as much a victim
as Harriet Farmer.

Who do we have on the books
who knows how to lip-read?

There's Fay Bell
from the Deaf School.

Get her to look at the tape.

I want to know what Wendy said
to Harriet.


Are you coming back?



Come on. Show yourself!

The victim's name
is Edward Stannington.

A rambler found him this morning.

Where is our rambler?

Still throwing up.

So, what can you tell us?

Deep penetrating blow
between the shoulder blades.

Some time last night.
No sign of the weapon.

What was he doing here?

It's a popular spot for walkers.

Nobody goes walking in those shoes.

What do we know about him?

He's a writer, apparently.

Bishopwood born and bred,
got a place on the green.


Lives with his aunt.

This is recent.

There's fresh tyre tracks at the
entrance too, heading for the road.

Someone in a hurry.

You might want to have a look
at this.

Found it in the victim's mouth.

Chess notation.

When did you last see your nephew?


He came home in the afternoon
and then left again.

Did he say where he was going?

Edward rarely told me anything.

He just read his letter and left.

What letter was this?
Research for his book.

Recorded delivery.
Must have been important.

What was this book
he was working on?

Biography. On Vladimir Kostelov.

He was a chess player in the '80s.

Could we see your nephew's office?

I shouldn't think so.

Edward doesn't like me
in the main house unless he's around.

He gets a bit sticky.

But he's not here any more, is he?


No, I don't suppose he is.

I forget. This is all mine now.

Every cloud...


It'll take some getting used to.

What about your nephew's friends,

Oh, he didn't have any of those.

Bit of a loner, was he?

No. No, he um...
He just wasn't very likeable.

Was your nephew
a member of the Chess Society?

He was president.

We are descendants
of Reverend Stannington.

Reverend Stannington?

He was our great-great-grandfather.

Chess world champion 1893-1894.

Ah, Bishopwood's claim to fame.

Edward loved the Society,

even if the other members
didn't love him.

He liked to win, you see.

And then he liked to brag about it.

A lot.

Do you... recognise this?

Sorry. Don't speak chess.

Do you own a car, Miss Stannington?

I did, before Edward confiscated it.

After the incident.
The incident?

At the petrol station. The pumps.

Went green
and should have gone black.

Edward was furious.

She seems a bit chipper.

She's got a lot to be chipper about.
The woman's finally free.

He'll have to forfeit.

Still has five minutes.

DCI Barnaby. Is there a problem?

We're here about Mr Stannington.

He was found dead this morning.

Not a popular man, I gather.

Edward was very talented.

He liked to tease.

Most people shrugged it off.
Most people?

Some took it personally.
Like who?

Alan Robson. He was runner-up
to Edward six years in a row.

Did he ever threaten Stannington?

Not physically. Just verbal spats.

Have you ever seen this before?

It looks like the opening of a game.

It's White opens with E4

and Black counters
with the Sicilian Defence.

Is that unusual?
No, it's very common.

Lots of players
use a variation of it.

Mr Farmer, whose car is this?

A silly prang.

A van ran into me when I was
pulling out on Causton High Street.

And the van driver's name?

I don't know. He drove away.

So he left the scene of an accident.


Causton High Street has CCTV,
doesn't it,

Detective Sergeant Jones?
Full colour.

It should be no problem
identifying this mystery van, then.

Work of a moment, sir.

We're missing practice time, Jamie.

You go home and get started.

I don't want to go home on my own.

I'll be there soon.

Shall we start again?

I didn't kill Edward.

But you did meet him last night?

We had some things to discuss.

Can I ask what they were?

Have you any idea how hard it is
to get to the top of this game?

Not really, no.

It's week after week.

Tournament after tournament.

Building up your Elo rating
in poxy competitions like this.

If you want the big game,
you need to know people.

And Stannington was
one of those people.

His name alone
could fast-track Jamie.

So you wanted him
to sponsor your son.

I wanted him to live up
to his responsibilities.

Where do you think
Jamie gets his talent from?

Certainly not from me.

It was a short, sordid affair

and the only good thing
to come out of it was Jamie.

Does Jamie know?

And I want it to stay that way.

So, did Stannington agree to help?

What? And run the risk
of being eclipsed by his son?

That must have made you angry.

I was furious.

He said he cared more for his car
than for Jamie.

So you rammed him?

But I assure you he was
very much alive when I drove away.

Did you see anyone else around?

No. I barely glanced back.

At least we know what Stannington
was doing at the car park.

So our murderer followed him there.

Not necessarily. It could have been
an opportunistic killing.

No. The chess notation proves it
was premeditated. He was followed.

Is it weird that both David Farmer
and Alan Robson knew Stannington?

Are you looking
for a link to Harriet?

It's certainly a coincidence.

Well, until we have a definite
connection, that's all it is.

Hmm. So, phone, email, internet -
check it all.

Find out who Stannington's
been in contact with recently.

And do some background on Vivian.

Nobody forgets they're inheriting,
no matter how scatty they are.

No good staring at it, Mr Barton.

You'll need to eat it while it's hot.

I'll be back for the dishes later.

And this was the parade
after you were crowned.

I look funny.

You look beautiful.

Do you remember anything?


Someone to see you, David.

I won't be long.

Hello, Harriet.
Are you ready for your physio?


I got your text. How is she?

Her memory's a bit foggy.

I should have called you in person.
It's been a bit hectic.

You don't need to apologise.

You've been a rock this last year,
a real help to me.

Look, why don't you come for dinner
tomorrow at the cottage?

I want to thank you for everything.


I'll see you.

Leave me alone!

And the loft is finally finished.

Is that my university box?

Yep, and another box
of Syke's old toys.

And they're both out of here today.

I'll need to go through that.
Sure. Be my guest.

It'll have to be tonight.
I've got to run.

Oh, John, come on. I want them...

Don't even think... Sykes!

Happy anniversary!

Oh, they're lovely. Thank you.

Sorry, I didn't manage
to get your name.

Don't worry, I've got it all sorted.

I've booked us a table tonight
at the Oaks. Tonight?

It's been ages since we went out.

The victim died
of a massive haemorrhage

caused by a penetrating blow
to the subclavian artery.

Any advance on the murder weapon?


The upper part of the entry wound
is smooth and clean.

But the lower part suggests that
the weapon had a serrated edge.

Like a hunting knife?

Um, too wide for a knife.

Possibly a tool of some kind.

The degree of taper
suggests long and thin.

That narrows it down.

We found some fragments in the wound.

The lab will possibly be able
to give us some idea of composition.

Anything else you can tell me?

Oh, we've got a new coffee machine.

Nothing on
Vivian's background check.

Stannington's phone records
and email drew a blank.

I hope there's a "but" coming.

BUT his recent internet history
makes for some interesting reading.

Is it going to make me blush?

He's been researching
Black King Productions.

Alan Robson's company?

Stannington's been reading

Company profiles, old interviews.
Filed accounts.

This is the team behind Knight2King.

That letter Stannington received
the day he was killed... Mm?

Courier company said it was sent
from London from a Kevin Pierson.

And he is?

Back row fourth from left.

We're trying to contact him.

He worked for Robson.

What about Knight2King?

What about it?

Well, Stannington
was researching it before he died.

Any thoughts?

Maybe he wanted
to emulate my success.

Or maybe he was looking for dirt.

There's none to find.

Would Kevin Pierson agree?

I haven't heard that name
for a while.

He and Stannington were in contact.

Well, that figures.
Figures how?

Pierson was a coder
on the original game.

Not a very good one.

He made a mistake
which set us back months.

That must have been frustrating.

Not as frustrating as the fuss
he made when we tried to sack him.

Ah, a disgruntled employee, then?

A pest.

Where was this picture taken?

Pyrenees, two years ago.

I had an epiphany.

And what prompted this epiphany?


I wanted to set an example for Finn.

I taught him that the world
is there to be conquered.

And yet he chose to run away.

Is there anything else?

No. That's all.

For now.

Dr Parr a friend of yours?

A friend of my wife's.

It just goes on and on. Relentless.

It will stop, I promise.

I just thought, when she woke up,
we would get some answers.

And you will.


In the meantime,
I'm just left thinking the worst.

Horrible thoughts.

You mustn't torture yourself.

But what if something
has happened to him?

What if he is dead?
Wendy, you have to be strong.

Maybe I need a little help.

We've discussed this.

Oh, please.

You're the only one who understands
what I'm going through.

Thank you.


Still looking for the Harriet link?

Stannington was killed on
the same day that Harriet woke up.

There has to be a connection.

We need to track down Pierson and
find out what he told Stannington.

See if you can get the lab
to hurry along.


Tapered tool with a serrated edge.

Didn't you look
at the Pyrenean photo?


He might have been a stingy git,
but your Edward kept a great cellar.

You can't drink his Burgundy.

Not his Burgundy, your Burgundy.

Cheers, Edward.
Cheers, Edward.

Oh, this takes me back.

May Day Festival 1971.

You were the White Queen.

And what a beauty you were.

I couldn't take my eyes off you
all day long.

Or your hands.

Hey, when you think
what could have been, eh?

Mm. Until the Ice Queen
got her claws into you.

Caroline's quite a wild woman,
when you get to know her.

She's a cold-blooded...
Oh, let's not do that again.

You know if I had my time again,
we'd be together.


Maybe we can have something else.

Something better.

We could be... business partners.

Edward, God bless him,
couldn't see the big picture.

But you...

How about this one?

Um, Jamie from the farm.


What about this handsome devil?

Very funny, Dad.

Or... It's all coming back now.

That's good to hear.

But Harriet needs to rest now.

I'm fine.
There's no arguing with Dr Parr.


She's making really good progress.

Yes, but we mustn't rush her.

No. No, of course.

Of course.

Is everything all right?

Soup's a little cold.

I'll get them to heat it up.
No need.

It's not a problem.
Arthur, sit down!

I can't seem to do much right
these days.

Let's just eat and go.

We can't just go.
I paid good money for this.

I've asked them to do us a cake.


I thought you were going through it.

Um, I got a bit distracted.

What is all this?
University stuff.

Lecture notes, text books,
old essays.

The Birth Of Grief, Memory And Loss
In Human Evolution by John Barnaby.

1988, Durham University.

You should read that one,
if ever you're grieving.

I'm grieving for a clear loft.

That's what it's about, the
importance of hanging on to things.

How objects connect us to emotions.

It's hard to get emotional
about essays.

Oh, not just essays.
Look what else I found.

Some of your old love poems.

These are awful.

Ah, don't be so hard on yourself.

I'm not. I didn't write them.


Signed, "Your ever constant Jenny".

Ah, now, that reminds me,
I did mean to get rid of those.

I'm keeping the essays, though.



It's David Farmer. We had
an anonymous call this morning.

Tracing it?
As we speak.

Chess killer strikes again.

A different code this time.

A different weapon too.
Strangulation by ligature.

Wide, no braiding or pattern.

So we can rule out natural fibres.

Could be climbing rope.

Shall I be mum?
By all means.

He was obviously expecting someone.

A table for two, soft lighting.


I'll stick my neck out,
and say it's a woman. Agreed.

There's a cheese souffle in the oven.
It's a tricky dish.

That and the table cloth
says he was out to impress.

So either a new girlfriend
or a potential one.

Could be an old girlfriend,
but a special occasion.

Music choice says no.

I mean, this is a safe bet.

Says - I'm romantic but I'm not going
to get all Barry White.

Tenuous, but go on.

A new shirt.

He was going to put this on
before she arrived.

But the killer turned up first.



He had a jeweller's receipt
in his wallet

for a cross he bought yesterday.

A gift for the lovely lady?

Hey, bag this.

Maybe the killer attacked him, when
he went out to the car to get it.

So, questions.

Who's the mystery woman?

Did she show up? Did she kill him?

And what's with the cryptic notes?

Does the killer like playing games?

But there are no games here.
These killings are quick and brutal.

This doesn't fit
with that style of murder.

It's like a distraction.

From what?

The real reason
why all this is happening.

Harriet Farmer.

We still don't have a link, sir.

Her dead father says we do.

He seemed so happy yesterday.

He was standing where you are.

In that stupid old cardigan of his.

I don't feel anything.

Why is that?


When you lose someone,
it can take time for it to sink in.

What do I do when it does?

Whatever you need to.

Grieving's a personal thing. You have
to let the process take its course.

And then just move on?

Is that it?

We never forget.

We hold our loved ones
in our memories.

I want to go home.

I don't think that's a good idea.

I want to be near Dad.

That was nicely handled.

Thank you.

I wish she wasn't going home, though.

You don't think she's ready?

Physically, yes.


Could the hospital help her?

I'll see what we can do.

Can't be easy for you
treating Harriet

and being friends with Wendy Robson.

It's not ideal, but what can you do?

I was Wendy's friend
before I was Harriet's doctor.

What are your thoughts on Wendy?

I'm grateful to her.

She was very good to me
when I first moved here.

Now that she's having a bad time,
I just want to repay her kindness.

Dr Parr...

Do you know this woman?

Her husband owns the hotel.

She often visited Harriet with David.

What the hell is wrong with you?
I lost a game is all.

To a class D player.
It's not good enough, Jamie.

It's just that you...

It's just what?


I'll win the next round.

Too right you will.

How would you describe
your relationship with David Farmer?

Well, David was a friend in need.

So I provided comfort.

And what form did this comfort take?

A few times I'd go with him
to visit Harriet.

More than a few times. It was
almost every week in the past year.

David didn't like
to visit her alone,

so he'd ask me to accompany him.

Did Mr Farmer invite you to dinner
at his cottage last night?

He may have suggested dinner, yes.

And did you go?

I had something else on.

Can I ask what that was?

Six years and counting.

Our anniversary.

Caroline and I went to the Oaks.

It weren't half bad, were it, love?
That's right.

Arthur Potts. Caroline's husband.
DCI Barnaby.

So what's this about, love?

David Farmer's dead.

That's awful. Poor David.

Caroline's been looking after David
for the last year

with the coma and that.
So I hear.

My wife's a saint.
She's always looking after somebody.

She never stops.

And what did you do after dinner?

Well, we came back here
for a nightcap and then early night.

If you know what I mean.


That were the chess buffs.
Excuse me.

Mr Barton?

Mr Barton?

Mr Barton?

You wanted to talk to me.

What happened to him?
Not here.

I want your assurance
that this is off the record.

I'm not a journalist,
Miss Stannington.

I should have come to you sooner.

I expect I'm an accessory now,

and I'll go to prison.
Banged up. In the nick.

Why don't you just tell me what you
know, and we'll take it from there?

I know who killed Marian Green.


Who's Marian Green?

She used to live in the village.

Until she came calling.
Who came calling?

Caroline Potts.

Marian broke her hip, you see,
was bed-bound for a week.

Potts turns up with a chicken korma.

Two days later, Marian's dead.

Murdered by a chicken korma?

A poisoned chicken korma.

And to top it all,
Charlie went missing.

Who's Charlie?
Marian's cat.

Of course it is.

I should have said something sooner,
but Arthur said not to.

He said it was just my imagination.

I usually listen to Arthur,
but lately I...

Well, lately I've seen
a rather different side of him.

And then this poor Mr Barton.

What about Mr Barton?

This time it was the goulash.

Yes, the names are Marian Green...

and Jack Barton.

Quick as you can, yeah?


David Farmer's mystery woman.

Caroline Potts.

She says that Farmer invited her
to his cottage for dinner last night,

but she didn't go. She's holding out,
though. I want her story.

According to Vivian Stannington,
she's the angel of death.

She uses her meals on wheels

to poison the village old folk,

Yeah, that's what I thought.

But she gave me a couple of names.
I'm waiting for the medical files.

Let's not wait. Maybe it's best to go
to the hotel and bring her in now.



Can I help you?
Other way round.

Fay. I'm here to look at a tape.

Ah, you're the lip-reader.

Now, who do I talk to
about getting paid for this?


It makes sense.

I never thought that Farmer would be
your type, but there you go.

Too much milk.

You could at least admit it.
I deserve that.

I lied to the police for you.
It wasn't necessary.

Where did you go last night?
Get on with lunch. Screw lunch!

People are waiting.
They'll have to get used to waiting!

Cos we're sunk! The bank called
the loan in. The hotel's finished.

All this feeding of the 5,000,
it's over! Now!

You don't care, do you?

I knew you were a cold fish, but...

You pathetic little man!

You know nothing about me!

I can't work out
what the younger one is saying,

but the older one...

"Who do you think you are?

You're nothing but a..."

It's either slug or slag.

Probably the latter.

The younger one responds
and then it's...

"Love? What do you know about love?

Wherever you think you're going,
you won't get very far.

He's my son.

Made for better things."

She knew they were eloping.

So I knew. What of it?

How did you know?


He came to see me two days before.

Farmer wouldn't let him see Harriet.

So he said they were leaving.

And what was your reaction?

I told him it was ridiculous.

I mean, eloping in this day and age.

So then you moved on to Harriet.

No reasoning with her.

Too caught up
in the romance of it all.

Did you tell your husband about it?

Mrs Robson, did your husband know
that Finn was leaving with Harriet?

He went after Finn.

I waited.

Two hours later he came back and...

He said he couldn't find him.

Are you sure you want to do this?

I'll put this in your room.


Dr Parr...


What have you done to her?
Where are you taking me?

Mr Potts!
I'll be with you in a minute.

Are you all right?

Charlie, I presume?

She took a summer job.

A great little grafter.

A bit uptight, like,
but not as bad as she is now.

I thought we'd make a great team.
You know, build up the hotel.

Meals on wheels didn't start

till a couple of months
after we got married.

And soon she was feeding
half the village.

I mean, business was slow
and I was losing money.

I say that charity begins at home.

What's the point of feeding the
world, if you can't feed yourself?

What about the cat, Mr Potts?

About six months ago, the fridge
gave up the ghost at last.

I mean,
I thought it was such a waste...

And then Caroline
asked for some chicken.

And you gave her dodgy stuff?

It wasn't rancid,
just a bit on the turn.

I didn't think it'd do any harm.

But then Marian Green died.

Yeah. And I panicked.

I knew Caroline still had a key,
so I went round to the house.

And that's where you found Charlie?

Yeah. Dead at the side
of a bowl of half-eaten chicken.

I knew then I had to do something.

Like wrap him in a plastic bag, take
him home and dump him in the freezer?

Yeah. I meant to get rid of him,

but he weren't doing any harm
in there, was he?

Is there anything else
you'd like to tell us, Mr Potts?


Last night Caroline walked out
half way through dinner.

And where did she go?

Please stop this.



Get up, get up and walk.

Why are you doing this to me?

Because it's your fault.
Now come on!

Tell me where he is.



This is where you arranged to meet.

Then he disappeared.

What happened?

I can't remember.

Yes, you can.

It's somewhere
in that airy little head of yours.

A year I waited for you to wake up.

Sitting in that awful hospital
with your dad boring on.

And all for him.
All to find out what happened.

To MY beautiful Finn.

And he was mine
before you stole him off me.

So you are going to tell me
what happened.

Let go of me!

Come here!

I can't do an autopsy on Charlie
because he's frozen. And he's a cat.

But I can tell you that
Barton had a massive heart attack

and Marian died of
breathing complications.

Neither of them
showed any sign of food poisoning.

So the only thing that
Arthur Potts might be guilty of

is poisoning a cat?

Where are we on Farmer?
We've traced the anonymous call...

to Caroline Potts's mobile.

Oh, that puts her at the cottage.



It's OK. It's OK. It's OK.

It's OK...

Look at me.

I'm just going to shine a light
in your eyes.

I can't believe Finn
would be with someone like that.

We've got her.

I wanted the missions.

I wanted to do God's work in Africa,

and it was only when I came here

that I realised I didn't have
to travel half way round the world

to do his work.

Bishopwood was full of people
who needed me.

How did you meet Finn?

The van broke down one day.

Miles from home.

Rain pouring down.

He appeared from nowhere.

Like an angel.

Such a beautiful boy.

When he smiled...

the rain stopped.

Later, when we were laying
in the van together,

I knew God had planned it.

But God took Finn away from you.


Someone wicked did that.

Caroline, we know
you were serving at the hotel

when Stannington was killed.

But you were at
David Farmer's cottage last night.

The poor man was dead when I got
there. There was nothing I could do.

You could have stayed with him.

Leaving him like that,

lying out there in the cold...

Not exactly what I'd call Christian.

But he was no use to me any more.

I only went to find out about Finn.

This has always been about Finn.


Robson came home. We've got him
waiting upstairs for you.

What do you think made her flip out?

She's lost the love of her life and
she's not been allowed to mourn him.

Not publically, anyway.

And modern psychology
says that's a bad thing, right?

There's nothing modern about it.

We've been expressing grief
since we climbed down from the trees.

Let's talk about the night
Finn disappeared.

Were you angry when your wife told
you that he was leaving with Harriet?

Was I angry? Now, let me see.

My son was throwing away his future.

Everything I'd built for him
for some simpering village girl.

We'll take that as a yes, then.

Please do.

So you left the house, got into your
car and went to try and stop him.

That was the plan, yes.

Until I had a change of heart.

Another epiphany?
I decided Finn was his own man.

If he wanted to go,

I'd no right to try and stop him.

So I turned round.

That was very understanding of you.

It was the worst decision
I've ever made.

I wish I'd gone back.

I wish I'd found him, thrown him
in the car and dragged him home.

If you think I would do anything
to harm my son,

you really don't know
the man you're dealing with.

We'll need to talk to you again.

If you must.

Mr Robson...

Do you know this game?

I'd recognise it anywhere.

Both codes were found
at the crime scenes.

This one with Stannington.
This one was found with Farmer.

Six months before we launched

we brought Wendy on board
to manage the marketing.

She suggested
an internet tournament,

the idea being
that we invited online gamers

to play an ex-world champion.

This ex-world champion, it wouldn't
be Vladimir Kostelov, would it?

Kostelov cost us a fortune.

But worth every penny.

The amount of interest we got
was staggering.

Anyway, the tournament started and
that's when Silverfish popped up.

Who's Silverfish?
That's what he called himself.

He came from nowhere.

Met Kostelov in the final
and beat him.

And I mean, thrashed him.

And that's the full transcript?

That's it.

So did you find out
who this Silverfish was?

It took us a while but it turned out
to be one of our own programmers.

Was it Kevin Pierson?

Pierson could barely play draughts.

No. It's the one next to him.

His name was Jason Winters.

And where will we find Mr Winters?

You won't.

He killed himself
a month after this was taken.

OK, so, Jason Winters...

A computer genius by all accounts,
but genius comes at a price.

Had a history of depression.

Died of a barbiturate overdose
in Cambridge in 1993.

Any family, friends, partners?

Spent most of his life
in London care facilities.

Chaotic family background. Mother
with children from several fathers.

His old social worker's
sending over the file.

So we've got a killer
referencing an obscure chess game

played by a dead code writer.

With no links to the area
apart from Alan Robson.

Robson's too smart to use weapons
we could trace to him.

And I don't buy him hurting Harriet.

So he's been set up?


"This has always been about Finn."


Just something Caroline Potts said.
"This has always been about Finn."

We've been focusing
on the link to Harriet,

but maybe
she was just collateral damage.

Maybe Finn was the target.

We need to know
what happened in the woods.

You do realise
the risk you're taking?

I appreciate it's unorthodox.

Not to mention
scientifically suspect.

There are precedents
for this kind of recall therapy.

I think this could help Harriet.

Taking her into the woods,
forcing her to remember,

it could do untold damage.

I'll do it.

I'm ready when you are.

I want you to try to go back
to the night you were meeting Finn.

Try to remember.

You were alone.

It was dark.

Finn was coming.

Try to let it come.

I can't. It's just blank.

Don't try too hard.

It's no use.


I can see something.

I'm frightened.

It's Finn.


He came.
That's good. Just keep a hold of it.

Someone else is here.

Who was there, Harriet?


You've hurt him.

Finn's not moving.

Who is it, Harriet?

It's Jamie.

Harriet... Harriet!


Bravo. Bravo.

Very good.


I won. I did it.

Stand back.

This is outrageous.

What's Jamie got to do with Finn?

Well, that's what we're hoping
to find out, Miss Carr.

We found this at the house.

It's Jamie's.

Oh. Quite the little stalker.

How do you want to handle it?


Ah, how about a game of chess, Jamie?

Why do you want him to play chess?

Well, I hear he's very good.

I can't stay here.

Just one game.

Then you can go.

Why do you like chess so much?

Chess is beautiful.

Every game starts the same, but
they all end up in different places.

Infinite possibilities.


Do you think Harriet's beautiful?

You like her, don't you?

For heaven's sake...

You like her a lot.

Am I right?

Just a schoolboy crush.

That's all.
Stop calling it that.

Harriet's special.

So you were angry
that Finn was taking Harriet away?

I didn't want Harriet to go.

So you attacked Finn?
I didn't mean to hurt him that bad.

But you did hurt him?
And then I went for help.

Who helped you, Jamie?
I can't tell you.

Why not?
Because I made a promise.

And me being here
means I've broken it.

And if I've broken it,
then she'll be hurt.

Your mum's safe, Jamie.
Not Mum.


Don't you see?
I'm being watched all the time.

Everything I do, everywhere I go.

If I'm here, then Harriet's...


I'm on my way.

Laura Parr!

Is she OK?
No thanks to your boss.

I've given her something
to help her sleep.

Stay with her and lock the door.

What? Why?

Just don't leave here
until I come back, OK?

Just stay here and watch the door,




Who's there?


You're definitely real?

Aren't you?

I'm not imagining things?

Oh, I'm real all right.

How long have you been down here?

Since the festival.

When was that?
What, three or four months?

Yeah, more or less.

How's Harriet? Is she OK?

She's doing fine. She's great, yeah.

Can you get to this door?
It's locked.

And even if it wasn't...

It's not going to happen.
You're ten feet underground.

Now, I'm not being funny, but this
doesn't look like much of a rescue.


I know. I know. Listen...

I can't stop this,
unless you tell me what you know.

Harriet's safe.
We have people with her right now.

So, you went to get help, remember?

I ran to the road.

Stop! Stop, stop, stop!


Harriet was still crying.

I tried to stop it, but I couldn't.

Told me if I said anything,
Harriet was dead.

They're supposed to help people.

Who are?


I see you found yourself a friend.

Come on, Jones.

Mrs Robson.

There's something you need to know.

Why did Jason Winters kill himself?

Jason was the real brains
behind Knight2King, not Alan.

So Alan stole his game?

No, Jason signed the rights over
to me the night he took his life.

Why would he do that?

Because he loved me.

I'm genuinely sorry about
what happened to Jason. I truly am.

It's his sister
you should be apologising to.

But he doesn't have a sister.
He was brought up in care.

They were split up when they were
young, but they kept in touch.

Her name is Laura Parr.

My brother was a genius.

Built that game single-handed.

Till Wendy Robson stole it from him.

She used him.

Led him on.

Until he signed over the rights.

Why take it out on Finn?

They took my only brother from me.

So I took their only son.

So this is about watching her suffer?

That's why I moved here.

To find a way to make her pay.

To be honest, I'd all but given up.

And then Jamie flagged me down and
I saw Finn and... it just came to me.

Why not just kill Wendy instead?

I'm a doctor, not a murderer.

Edward Stannington and David Farmer
might disagree with you there.

It was only a matter of time
before Stannington found out

I was Jason's sister.
And Farmer, well,

he was too close
to getting Harriet to remember.

Exactly. Exactly.

What are you going to do
when Harriet does remember?

Harriet will remain conscious
for another few days,

then mysteriously relapse.

I'll do everything I can, of course,
but... I'm only human.

Don't make this
any harder than it is.

Wait, wait, wait, wait!

Wait, just think about this.

Is this what Jason would want?

I guess we'll never know.

You want to tarnish his memory
by doing all this?

I don't buy into all that honouring
the memory of the dead stuff.

Then why the chess notation?

Why leave parts of his finest game...

at the crime scenes
if it wasn't to honour his memory?

He beat a world champion, Laura.

He annihilated him.

It was his game.

But nobody's going to
remember that now.

When they think about Jason,
they'll think about what you did.

I'm avenging him.

This isn't revenge.

This is grief.


The grief speech?

If Jason was here right now,
what would you say to him?

You do know psychology
isn't real science, don't you?

Indulge me.

What would you say?

All right.

I'd say, 'Jason, why didn't you
tell me how you were feeling?'

I didn't want to.

Oh, I see what you're doing.
You're being Jason now. Very clever.

I didn't tell you
because I knew you'd try to stop me.

No, the voice isn't right.

And because, in the end,
it was none of your business.

None of my business?

I was his sister.

Doesn't that matter?


Not at the time.

I just wanted the pain to stop.

And what about me?

What about my pain?

Didn't you think about that?

I didn't think about you at all.

Well, that's just like you.

Selfish and pig-headed!

Why didn't you let me
take care of you?

I could have helped you.


There was nothing
you could have done to help me.

But I'm a doctor. That's what I do.

There's nothing you could have done.

You don't know that.

There's nothing...
Stop saying that!

There's nothing you could have done.

But I'm sorry I didn't let you try.

I'm sorry too.

Because look at the mess I'm in.

To be young and in love, eh?

A couple of months,

they'll be nagging each other
like the rest of us.

So cynical!


She tortured those two
for over a year.

She tortured people to keep
the memory of her brother alive.

Why not put a plaque
on a park bench like everyone else?

Grieving may be universal,

but we must express it
in our own unique way.

Sigmund Freud.

John Barnaby, 1988.

Durham University.

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