Midsomer Murders (1997–…): Season 3, Episode 3 - Judgement Day - full transcript

The village of Midsomer Mallow is in competition for the title of the "perfect village". Joyce Barnaby has already won her own competition and is now one of the "perfect village" judges. Meanwhile, Barnaby and Troy are investigating a series of break-ins in the area. When the thief, Peter Drinkwater, is found murdered, there are no end of suspects: a jealous husband; a spurned girlfriend and her irate parents; one of the robbery victims who is not being entirely truthful with the police; and finally several members of the village committee whose only concern is how the death will affect their chances in the perfect village competition. In the end, Barnaby must establish the link between these most recent events and a murder some years earlier.

I don't want you to go.

Why do you have to go?

Come on, Anna. We talked about this.

It's Mummy and Daddy's anniversary.

I don't care.
I don't want you to go.

We'll be home later.

Don't you want us to have
a good time?


Are you off then?
We're just going.

You'll be alright with Mrs Foster.
You'll have a nice time.

No, I won't.

Oh, you naughty child.
You go straight up to your room.

You'll watch no television tonight.
I don't care. I hate you.

Oh, you just wait
until your parents come home.

Just wait until I tell them.

It was a pleasant enough room

and as he had requested
it overlooked the sea.

He liked the sound of the surf,
he said.

The cold light of dawn
revealed a grim sight.

In addition, it had brought with it
a note of tragedy.

The owner of the car
had been discovered

and his remains had been found

beneath the debris
of a gutted caravan.

Well, there's nothing here
to indicate

how the fire started - nothing.

No! No! Nooo!


What is it?

I don't know.

Mrs Foster?


Thank God. Thank God.

Come on, Ray,
you don't want to be late.

I'll be back in an hour.

I don't know why
you're wasting your time going.

They're all snobs.

It's for the village, Jack.
That's why I'm going.


It's 10:55.
We ought to be on our way.



I'm coming, I'm coming,
don't blow a fuse.

Hi, Mum.
Where are you going, dear?

I don't know. Just out.

See you.

There, that's a good boy.

Feels much better.

Is he still limping?

Not really.

We'll keep him
on painkillers a bit longer

but I think it's going to be OK.

There's a good boy, Jackie.
His name's Lucky.


If you don't mind removing your hand
from that dog's arse,

Gordon darling,

it's time to go.

We come now to the main item
on the agenda -

the Perfect Village competition.

As we all know,
it's only four days away now.

It's July 10.
That's it.

And let's not forget the first prize
of £5,000 that's at stake.

We could rebuild the village hall
with that.

Absolutely, Ray. So we're leaving
nothing to chance. Bella?

Oh, yes.
Thank you.

The tent's going up on the green
the day before

so lunch will be served at 1:00.

I've got all the food sorted,
Mr Devere.

We're going to have sausages,
chicken wings and pasties.

I'll do the village proud.

And at the same time,

I'll be serving
some of Marcus's home-made wine.

The apricot and elderberry has turned
out absolutely tip-top this year.

It'll certainly make an impression.

Entertainment - a musical gala on
the green to accompany lunch. Mary?

Nothing to worry about there,

I've been working
with the village orchestra.

In fact, we've been going at it
hammer and tongs.

Well, not literally, I hope.

It's important to show these judges

that there's still some young blood
in Midsomer Mallow.

I don't suppose we know yet
who the judges are?

Well, Rosemary Furman, the editor
of Country Matters is going to be one

and I think Frank Mannion
has agreed to join the panel.

Frank Mannion?

He does that gardening program on
television - Along the Garden Path?

That's right.

And I believe Annabel Cross
has also been asked to join.

And there's also a member
of the public.


Yes, ah, they ran a competition
and someone -

I've got her name here somewhere -

anyway, the winner will be asked
to join the panel.

She'll probably be the easiest one
to impress.

Find her an extra sausage

and her vote will be in the bag.

So you're going to be a judge?

What's the first prize?
That WAS the first prize, Tom.

It means a week away from home,
first-class travel

and a big dinner at the end.

Away from home for a week.

Don't worry,
I've already phoned Cully.

She's coming tomorrow.
Is she not working?

She is. She's writing a book.

A book? That's different.

It's something to do
with the theatre.

I'm sure she'll tell you
all about it.

The Perfect Village competition.

Don't suppose any of the Midsomer
villages are through to the final?

There is one, yes. Midsomer Mallow.


Tom, don't tell me

you're investigating
some grisly murder there.

No, no, no, it's very quiet
at the minute.

Apart from one thing.

We've had a spate of burglaries.

I've got to go.

Oh, Petey, have you?

Yeah. And so have you.

Why? Where are you going?

I've got business.

There's someone else, isn't there?


I couldn't bear it if there was.

I really couldn't.

You'd better get home.

Your mum and dad would kill you
if they knew you were here.

They'd kill you first.

Grayfriar's House.

You sure about this?

You said he was going to be
in London, not back until late.

I mean, it's too much, too soon.
We're gonna get caught.

You losing your bottle, Jack?

No, it's...

I hope not. Come on.

What is it?

I thought I heard something.

Leave it!

There's nothing here.
Let's go.

You old fart.

Right, let's go.

Piece of cake.

How many's this? Six?


Seven burglaries in two months,
it's an epidemic, Troy.

Who was it this time?

His name's Edward Allardice.

He's a retired actor,
lives here alone.

Big house for one man.

And where was he last night?

You can ask him yourself,
he's inside.

I had to go to London yesterday,
a meeting with my accountant

and I didn't get back
until 1:00 in the morning.

It's almost as if they knew.

Did you tell anyone about
your travel plans, Mr Allardice?

No. I keep myself to myself.

Oh, I may have mentioned something
to Ray.

Dorset - the butcher.

You can't go in there
without chatting.

And there was no-one in the house?

My wife died some years ago
and I live alone.

But, ah, I may be able to help you.


Well, when I was driving home,
I saw a white van.

I was quite near the house
and it was doing a ton,

that's why I noticed it.

I don't suppose you got a -
Registration number?

Well, yes, I got most of it.

M-293, then an F,

or it could have been an E,

something W.

It was going too fast.

That may be very helpful, sir.

If ever I get my hands on the little
bastards that did this,

I'll kill them.

It wasn't just what they stole,
it was the damage they did.

That portrait was painted
by Lucien Blake

and the bowl they smashed,
which was given to me by Olivier.


We'll do what we can, sir.

If you don't mind me asking, sir,

how do you know
there were two of them?

I'm sorry?

You said "Little bastards", plural.

There could have been just one.

Well, I assumed.

They always come in pairs,
don't they?

You don't think he was lying,
do you?

About being out of the house?

Those were made last night.

I've checked them,
they don't match his car.

They could belong to the white van.

Quite possibly, Troy,

but these tracks are quite clearly
turning that way, aren't they?

Surely the London road's over there?

So if Allardice was coming
from London...

Couldn't have seen the van.

So he is lying?

Or obfuscating, certainly.

You must be the police officers
come to investigate the break-in.

Yes, sir.

You must know a lot about
the village, working here.

I suppose I do.

Has there been anyone in here
who's new to the area -

someone, perhaps, showing a special
interest in other people's movements?

No. No, the last person to come
to the village was Mr Allardice.

That was quite recent.
Five, six years ago.

No-one more recent than that?

Well, I don't like to point
the finger at anyone.

Go on.

You might want to talk
to Peter Drinkwater.

He's Mary Drinkwater's nephew,

He came back to live in the village
earlier this year.

Lived with her for a while
and then he moved into the old farm.

Windy Whistle farm -
it's deserted now.

Peter Drinkwater.
Young lad.

Bit on the wild side.

Peter Drinkwater.
That name rings a bell.

Do you want to go talk to him?

Unless you have other plans.

Why'd you have to do that?

Why'd you have to talk about Peter
that way?

I could have said more than I did.
He's my friend, Dad.

He's trouble.
And he's leading you into trouble.

I wish he'd never come here.
Sometimes I want to...



What time is it?


Gordon will be home soon.

It's his afternoon in surgery,
you've got to go.


You don't care, do you?


Stay or go, you don't care.

Maybe that's what I like about you,

that you're so bloody heartless.

You're like an animal.
Watch it.

I'm complimenting you.

If Gordon ever found out about you
he'd neuter you,

do you know that?

He's good at that.

If you don't like Gordon

why do you talk about him so much?

Good question.

Don't ever change.

I like you just the way you are.

And do you know
what I like about you?


Your generosity.

I hadn't forgotten.

You still seeing that girl?

Devere girl - Caroline?

I wonder what she'd say

if she knew about me.

Get lost, Laura.
Just piss off, alright?

You start threatening me,

you can look for your 50 quid
thrills elsewhere.

Maybe you should try Jack.

He'd do it for 30.

And he might even enjoy it.

God! You little bastard.

Windy Whistle farm.

If you wanted a place to stash
some stolen loot, this'd be it.

All these outbuildings.
It's got to be him.


Here he is now.

You're Peter Drinkwater.
And you're police, aren't you?

Detective Sergeant Troy,
Causton CID.

This is
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

It's the same smell.
You can always tell.

Would you mind stepping out
of the car?

We'd like to talk about a break-in
at Grayfriar's House last night.

Would you? And what if I don't want
to talk to you?

I could be back here in
a couple of hours

with a warrant
to search this entire place.

Search it. I don't give a damn.



Do you want me
to take a look around?

No, Troy. We'll do this one
by the book.

Let's get the warrant first.

Hi. What's for lunch?

I've been out walking,
I'm stivvy starving.

What is it?

Peter Drinkwater.


You're seeing him again, aren't you?

Don't lie to me, Caroline.

I found these in your room.

Letters, love letters,
disgusting letters. How could you?

You shouldn't be searching
in my room.

That boy is a snake in the grass.

He is nothing but trouble -
and you will listen to me!

No, I won't. I'm 20 years old now.
I can do what I like.

Look, maybe I should go
and have a talk with him,

just the two of us, mano-a-mano.

No, Daddy, no.

I love Peter more than anyone
in the whole world.

We're going to live together

and there's nothing you can do.

Oh, afternoon, Caroline.
Is something the matter?


Did you know, I was talking
about you only this morning.

I was rather hoping
I'd bump into you.

Mrs Brierly...

I was talking to Peter Drinkwater,
I know he's a friend of yours,

but perhaps there's something
you ought to know about him

and I'm going to tell you.


Thought I knew that name,
Peter Drinkwater.

He's got a record.

Nothing very serious -

two police cautions,

taking and driving away,


Oh. And a 6-month suspended sentence
for assault.

And you think he's graduated
to burglary?

What have you got?

The registration number of the van.

Had to go round in circles a bit
but I finally got there.

A white Renault Trafic, registered
to Ray Dorset in Midsomer Mallow.

Ray Dorset, the butcher?

He has a 21-year-old son,
Jack Dorset.

I think it may have been him
working in the shop.

And the shop is the centre of gossip
in any village.

People tell Ray when they're going
to be away for the weekend.

And Jack tells his mate, Peter.

I think so.
Who should we go for first?

Oh, Peter.
He's an obnoxious little sod.

Let's start with him.

Right, everyone.

Can you calm down please? Thank you.

Now, this is our last rehearsal
before judgment day

and you all know how important it is
that we make the right impression.

Thank you, Richard.

I want lots of energy,
lots of pizzazz.


Everyone together now.

One, two, three, one, two, and...

You finish it. I'm going out.

Where are you going?

Just out.



That was the van. M-923-FBW.

Do you want me to go after it?

No, that was the butcher,
Ray Dorset, driving.

We'll catch up with him later.

Get yourselves around the back.
Don't want him getting away.


There was a computer
on the inventory

taken from the Allardice house.

Oh, I wish they were all
as easy as this.

Now all we need to do
is find Mr Drinkwater.


Oh, for heaven's sake.

Nasty way to go.


Quick, though.

One of the prongs cracked a rib
and went straight into the heart.

Must have taken quite a lot
of strength.

Are you saying it was a man?

Or a very strong woman.

Skewered him like a spud
on Guy Fawkes night.

I wouldn't be surprised
if it shattered the spleen

and the kidney, too.


Certainly one for the books, though.

Death by pitchfork.

I've never seen anything like it.

How long ago did it happen?

Well, the body's still warm
to the touch,

no sign of rigor mortis -
half an hour to an hour, tops.

Shame you didn't get here
a bit sooner.

Well, yes.

What did you want him for?

Well, I suppose
that's rough justice then,

breaking and entering,
that's what someone did to him.

You mind if I take him?

Yeah, you go ahead.
Right. Uh, Cyril?

Whoa, wait a minute.
What's that, Troy?

Credit card, sir.
Oh, so it is.

Name of Gordon Brierly.

Suppose it must've been stolen.

Do you think this has got anything
to do with the break-in, sir?

Hard to say.

We need to know more about the late
Peter Drinkwater, don't we?

He had an aunt
living in the village.

He also had an accomplice.

We have an eyewitness
who places your father's van

at the scene of at least one
of the houses broken into.

We've also recovered several of the
missing items from Windy Whistle farm

and I must warn you, we're gonna
have those checked for fingerprints.

They were using my van?

OK, I'll tell you
what you wanna know, but on my own.

If you wouldn't mind, sir.

It's alright, Dad.

We were at school together,
Pete and me.

The break-ins was his idea.

But you had a good job
with your father.

Why'd you get involved with him?

I hate the bloody job.

Bowing and scraping
behind the bloody meat counter.

That's no life.

How many were there?


Oh, too many. I told him that
but he wouldn't listen.

What, you argued?

No. No, you couldn't argue with him,
he wouldn't listen.

Would you say he had any enemies?

Who hated Peter Drinkwater?

Be easier to ask who didn't.

You had no idea what he was up to?

Of course not.
If I'd known, I'd have...


..I'd have stopped him.

I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid
I'm going to have to charge your son

with various offences
connected with the break-ins.

Wasn't his fault.
He didn't know what he was doing.

It was that other one.
Peter Drinkwater?

You think Peter Drinkwater
led your son astray?

That why you went to see him
this afternoon?


We saw you
just before three o'clock.

We were driving up
to Windy Whistle farm.

You passed us on the road.

I wasn't up at the farm.
No, I was making my deliveries.

I was on my way to Causton.

So you drove past
the entrance to the farm?

Yeah, but I didn't stop.
You didn't see anything?

There was a car
coming out of the yard.

A Renault, bright red.
One of the newer models.

I don't suppose you got a number?

I didn't see who was driving either,
had tinted windows.

Mr Devere has got a Renault.

It's bright red,
it's got tinted windows.

Perhaps you should be
talking to him.


Now, that's 1, 4, 5, 6, 7,
8, 10, 14 -

plus 15, 16, 17, 18, 21,

and 50 for using all my letters -

That's jolly good.

It's not actually a word,
though, is it? Screamy.

You could have scream.

It is a word.

Some... films are screamy,
it's in the dictionary.

If you say so.

Have you heard?

He's been killed. Peter.

Everyone's talking about it
in the village.

The police are up at the farm.
They say he was stabbed.


I thought I loved him, but I didn't.

And now he's dead and I don't care,

but you got what you wanted,
both of you, so I hope you're glad.

Hello, Dad.
Hello, you.

What news, then, of the judging?

They've booked us
into the Castle Hotel at Wisden

and the first meeting's on Friday.

Do we know the other judges?

There's Rosemary Furman
and Frank Mannion.

Along the Garden Path?

And they were going to have
Annabel Cross,

but at the last minute
she's let them down.

They've managed to get
Samantha Johnstone to step in.

She writes the Sister Claire

Life in an English village
through the eyes of a retired nun.

How long are you going to be away?
Only a week.

We're in somewhere called Little
Kirkbridge the day after tomorrow,

and then Midsomer Mallow
the day after that.

Midsomer Mallow?
I was there myself today.

Another burglary?
No, I think we found the burglar.

Have you made an arrest yet?

But I thought you just said
that you got the burglar.

Yes, well, I'm afraid
he didn't have very much to say.

Morning, sir.

Morning, Troy.

That looks like the red Renault
Ray Dorset was telling us about.

Oh, Lothlorian.
That's Lord of the Rings, that.

JR Tolkien.

Oh, I never read it.
I started The Hobbit once.

Well, it's all dwarves and fairies.

I like books that are a bit
more... you know.

I can imagine.

Peter Drinkwater.
Of course I knew him.

Everyone in the village knew him.
They probably wish they didn't.

I can't imagine why you would wish
to talk to us about him.

Well, I'd be very interested to know,

when was the last time
you saw Peter Drinkwater, Mrs Devere?

The last time?

Oh, I couldn't tell you. A week ago?

I saw him lounging outside
the cricket billet.

It had to have been last Thursday.

I didn't speak to him, though.

So neither of you have seen him
in the last 24 hours?


Then how would you explain the fact
that your car was seen

leaving Windy Whistle farm

just before three o'clock
yesterday afternoon?

Exactly the same time
Drinkwater was killed.


Don't suppose anyone else drives
your car - oh, your daughter?

She doesn't drive.

Then it must've been one of you.

Yes, it was.

Actually, it was me.


Who was it who actually saw me?

Just out of interest.

Ray Dorset, the butcher.

He was on his way to Causton.

Landed me in it, hasn't he?

It's not like Ray.

So, you did see Peter Drinkwater?

No. No, I didn't.

I did go to see him
but he wasn't there,

at least, I tooted, you know?

There was no answer so I drove away.

May I ask, why did you go to see him?

Well, it's a bit personal, really.

The fact is,
he's been carrying on with Caroline.

Our daughter.

I wanted to know
what his intentions were.

So I thought we would have a chat,

Those were my exact words,
weren't they?

Do you remember
what time you left home?

It'd be about half two.

You'd just gone up for your nap.

She always dozes off in the
afternoon and that's when I went.

It was half past two, yes.

But you didn't see anyone
at the farm?

Only Ray. Yes, he drove past.

You're certain it was Ray
driving the van?

Yes, he had the window down.
He was smoking a cigarette.

Ray smokes all the time.

You can't really think

my husband had anything to do
with what happened, Mr Barnaby.

He was with the National Westminster
for 37 years.

Yes, I worked in the city.

This your daughter, Caroline?

That was taken on her 18th birthday.
Oh, it's very nice.

I wonder, would it be possible
to have a word with her?

Do you know where she is now?

Well, she has a summer job
at the Causton nursery.

Hmm? Oh, flowers.

You're not looking very happy today,
are you? No.

Never going to go to a nice home
if you don't cheer up a bit.

I always talk to the plants.
You know, like Prince Charles.

It helps them grow.

When did you last see
Peter Drinkwater?


I don't know. Suppose
it was the day before yesterday.

Were the two of you, um,
in a relationship?

I suppose Jack told you.
Peter told Jack everything.

Well, we were in a relationship,
but it was over.

I ended it.

Why did you do that?

Because of Laura Brierly.

Yes. Laura told me lots of things
about Peter.

Private things.

But I knew she was telling the truth
and I didn't want to see him again.

Were you angry with him?
I could have killed him.

But I didn't have to
because somebody did it for me.

Looks like the Brierlys are out,

Oh, we'll catch up with them
later on.

In the meantime, Troy,
has it occured to you

that someone actually threatened
to kill Peter Drinkwater

while we were actually there?

"If I ever get my hands
on the little bastards who did this,

"I'll kill 'em."
Edward Allardice?

Yeah. Let's take his property back
to him.

I want to know why
he lied about that white van.

Or obfuscated, you mean.

What I say is, I think
we ought to put it to the vote.

The judges will be arriving
the day after tomorrow.

Question is,
do we call the whole thing off?

No, it's too late to cancel.

It's not just us,
it's the whole village.

You don't think the fact we've
just had a brutal murder committed

won't damage our chances
just a tiny bit?

Oh, they don't need to know - the
judges. Nobody needs to tell them.

That's right.

What do you think, Miss Drinkwater?

Well, I suppose
I'm thinking of the children.

The village orchestra.

We've been rehearsing for months

..well, I know it was Peter
who was killed,

my own flesh and blood.

I had to go and identify the body.

Steady on, old thing.
Shall I get you a drink?

No, I'm alright.

Peter never did anything
for the village

and it seems to me that...

..if we let his death
spoil Saturday,

well, he's still spoiling things,
even though he's gone.

So, I'm afraid I agree with Ray.

Well, are we ready to put it
to the vote?

Let's take the ayes first.

I say, this is a perfect village.

We have no reason to be ashamed.

I'm with that.

And me.

Yes, I say we go on.

Well, I say you're all crazy.

You can't have music and chicken
wings three days after a murder.

That's a no, then.

It doesn't make any difference.

Ray, Bella, Mary and me -
that's a majority.

And I'm afraid I'm with the others,

So, the ayes have it.

Judgement Day goes ahead.

I very much appreciate this,
Mr Barnaby.

Well, just look upon it
as part of the service, sir.

What about the rest of it?

It's at the station.
You'll have to come and sign for it.

Well, I suppose it's all ended
fairly satisfactorily.

Yes, though not for Peter Drinkwater,
would you say?

The man who broke in?
Yes, I'm sorry.

You did say you wanted to kill him,

Oh, that was just words.

Anyway, I didn't know who he was.

I was wondering,

you say you saw the white van,

you got part of the number but you
didn't recognise the van itself.

Though you must have seen it
often enough around the shop.

What exactly are you suggesting,
Detective Chief Inspector?

Are you sure you weren't at home
that night?

You could have been here.
You could have seen them.

I told you, I was in London.

There was no one else in the house?

I live alone.

My wife, Jane,
died in a car accident.

I was almost killed myself.

And I resent your questions.

In fact, if you don't mind,
I think I'd like you to leave.


It's alright.

They're gone.

But we'll have to be careful.

They might be coming back.


I really ought to get going.
Oh, yes.

Have you seen the paper?
Ah, it hasn't arrived yet. Come on.

Mum, we're going to be late.

Are you sure about this, Cally?
I could have taken a cab.

Goodbye, Joyce.

I'm quite nervous.

What do you think the other judges
will be like?

Ed, this is Rosemary.
I'm phoning from the car.

Look, we're going to have to do
something about the September cover.

Darling, I said, "Autumnal",

that doesn't have to mean
bloody funeral.

No, I can't.
I'm out of London all week.

This sodding competition.

We're on the N-40 now.

The repeat blooming shrub rose.

For me, its the crowning glory
of any garden.

And what better choice
than our old friend,

the English cottage rose.

Tough little fellow,
with that lovely, ripe fragrance.

And cut.

That's it Jeremy, darling.
I'm out of here.

I've got a taxi waiting.

I'll see you all in a week's time.



Are you going in?


Do I look alright?
You look fine.

Do you want me to come with you?

No. Thank you for the lift.

Oh, God.

Country hotels.

Tea is made in the bedroom

and teenage waiters with acne
at reception.

I'm so glad you could make it,

I thought you might have been
back in that -

what's that psychiatric place
you go to? The retreat?


Depression's a terrible thing.

Have you thought about Prozac?


Hello, Rosemary.

Ah, Samantha, darling.

How are you?

I heard that you'd stepped in
at the last minute.

I love the new book, by the way.

I'm your biggest fan.
Thank you.

Hello, Frank.
I've haven't seen you since...

Since you fired me, Rosemary.

Oh, yes.

Well, you've got that television
program now.

Mm. And doing very nicely,
thank you very much.

Yes, I suppose it allows you
to pursue your interest in pansies.



Joyce Barnaby?

Hello, my name's Rosemary Furman.
I'm editor of Country Matters.

Ah, this is Frank Mannion.

How lovely to meet you,
I often watch your program.

Ah, now these are green fingers.

I'm sure that you're
a wonderful gardener.

I can always tell.

Oh, well, I...

And this is Samantha Johnstone.

Nice to meet you.
How do you do?


Oh, sorry. Phone.

And do you read Country Matters?


And do you live in the country?

Yes, well, sort of.
I live in Causton.

Causton, I don't think I know it.

It's in Midsomer.

Ah, yes, Midsomer Manor.

That's not far from us.


No thank you, not for me.

Right, well,
I think we should get going.

Little Kirkbridge this afternoon

and Midsomer Manor tomorrow.

Does anyone actually know
where a Midsomer Manor is?

I see you're as well informed
as ever, Rosemary.

Joyce, here, lives quite near it.


It's a nice place, I've passed
through it once or twice.


I've had notes done
on all the finalists

we should take a look at those
before go.

This coffee's cold.

Frank, why don't you see if you can
get your hands on a waiter?


But not literally, right?


Ah, Troy.

Take a look at this.

This might interest you.

What is it?

Edward Allardice,
I've been checking up on him.

He was telling the truth about that
car crash, it was six years ago.

He was driving and according
to that report, he was drunk.

So he killed his wife?

That's just the thing,
there's no death certificate.

Her name was Jane Rochelle, she was
in the same business, an actress,

and as far as I can see,
she survived.

So, where is she now?
Good question.

And why lie about it?

Dunno, there's nothing in this case
that's straightforward.

Allardice threatened to kill

but it was Marcus Devere
that was there on the day.

And Ray Dorset driving past.

You checked up on him?
Yeah, he was in Corson at three.

Still something wrong.

It's the van... passing the farm.
I don't know.

And then, there's this.

Gordon Brierly's credit card.

You know, we still haven't spoken
to him.

It's time we did.

Gordon shouldn't be long.

He's over at a poplar farm.

They've had an outbreak of
leptospirosis in their dairy cattle.

No, I'll have mine black, thanks.


Mrs Brierly, I'm afraid
I've got to ask you some questions

about your relationship
with Peter Drinkwater.


I understand
that you and he were, um -


Well, I suppose we might as well
be adult about this.

It was a question
of supply and demand.

And the truth is,

Gordon's always been a bit short
in the supply department,

if you know what I mean.

Ah, please.

Did he come to the house?

So, it's quite possible

he could have taken something
of your husband's from here.

Something of Gordon's?
Such as what?


These are policemen. They seem
to have found something of yours.

A credit card, sir.

Oh, that's mine, alright.
Of course.

Where did you find it?

At Windy Whistle Farm. Peter
Drinkwater was squatting there.

What, and he'd taken my credit card?

Unless you were up there yourself,
sir, and somehow managed to drop it.

I haven't been
up to Windy Whistle Farm.

Be interested to know where you were
around 3 o'clock, sir, on Wednesday?


I was operating on Wednesday.
A cat had to be spayed.

You didn't go out?

No. Laura was here. She helped me.

We stayed in together.

Why did you tell them that?

You went out on Wednesday,
after you'd done the cat.

Did I?

Where did you go?

No, I didn't, Laura.
I was here all the time.

Do you understand? I never left.

The village
of Little Kirkbridge,

today you have it seen,

and we finish now where we began,

upon the village green.

Is he serious?

To celebrate your visit...

..and to hope you'll come again,

our merry team of Morris Men
are here to entertain.

Oh, God.

We got long sword dancing, clog,
and molly dancing,

a Norfolk border dance
with sticks,

and finally they all put antlers

for something called
an Abbots Bromley Horn Dance.

How many points did you give them?

Well, I thought
they were rather fun.

But I don't think the others
were very impressed.

What, the other judges?
How are they?

Rosemary has hay fever.

Samantha, the writer,
well, she's completely depressed.

Frank Mannion's alright,

although I'm afraid after dinner he
disappeared with one of the waiters.

Come home.

I'll see you tomorrow.
Midsomer Mallow.


Oh! Would you like to join me?

Yes, alright.

I'm so pleased to meet you.

I don't know what's happened
to the others.

Two large whiskeys, please.

What are you gonna have?

Why didn't you tell her?

Mum, about the murder.

Ah. Well, don't really know.

It, er... didn't seem to be fair,

To her or the village?

To both.

I don't see how
you can be a perfect village

when you've got a homicidal maniac
running around with a pitchfork.

Oh, maybe that's my point. I didn't
want to influence her judgement.

Anyway, I'm not entirely sure...

..that it was a homicidal maniac.

So who wanted to kill him?
Quite a few people actually.

He was having an affair
with the vet's wife

and he was carrying on
with someone else's daughter.

At the same time?

And then there were the burglaries.
He was breaking into people's houses.

Yes, but you don't murder someone
just 'cause they burgle you, do you?

Ah, well, as a matter of fact,

one of the victims threatened
to do exactly that.

Edward Allardice.
He said as much to me,

"If I ever get my hands
on the little bastards that did this,

"I'll kill 'em".

Edward Allardice? The actor?
Yeah, do you know him?

Dad, Edward Allardice did
four seasons at the Playhouse.

You know he was married
to Jane Rochelle?

Back in the '60s,

she was said to be one of the
most beautiful women in the world.

She made a lot of films in America

but then she died in a car accident,
I think.

Is he really living
in Midsomer Mallow?

Do you think I could meet him?

Oh, he could tell me everything
I need to know.

Yeah, well, I suppose it would be
alright, but...

..he's still, theoretically,
a suspect in my murder investigation.

Come on, Dad. He wouldn't murder
a local delinquent.

He's a famous actor.

Well, maybe not. But someone did.


Aren't you ready yet?

It's five to seven.

Gordon. What are these doing here?

They need to go in the wash.

But this is blood.


Well, why did you put them
in the cupboard like that?

And how did the blood get there?

Is it animal blood?

Oh, yes. It's animal, alright.
Nasty little creature.

It's alright now,
I put it out of its misery.

Now let's go.
I don't want to be late.

Alright there?
Good strong hold.

Is it straight?

That's fine.

Mr Allardice?

I'm writing a book
about the Causton Playhouse.

I just found out
that you live here and -

No, no, I'm sorry.
I'm not interested.

You met my father. Tom Barnaby?

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby?
He was here.

Yes, he came about the burglary.

Very well.

The police brought back the rest
of my property this morning.

I'm very grateful to your father.

There was nothing
of any great financial value,

but some of it was sentimental.

You heard what happened?
To the man that broke in?

Yes. He must have had
a lot of enemies, someone like that.

It seems he had one too many.

This is Hamlet.

The 1955 production.

Olivier directed it.

I was Laertes to his Hamlet.

He set it...
In a doll's house.

With just seven actors.
Yes, that's right.


He said he wanted
to get to the core of the play.

But of course really he wanted
more stage time for himself.

I'd like to have seen it.

Well, I'd imagine you'd have been
too young.

Well, how can I help you?

Um, I'm writing a book
about the playhouse

and I wondered
if I could interview you.

Well, I'm not really interested
in being interviewed.

It's been a long time now,
since I was in the public eye.

Six years. I know you retired.
After the accident.

I was quite badly hurt.

And of course my wife was...

I know. I'm sorry.

Still, I might be able to help you
in what you want to know.

I was in Causton.

That's one of the reasons
I decided to settle here.

But I'd rather you didn't mention
the name of the house.

I don't like people coming here.

Well... the public, you know.

Whatever you say.

You don't mind if I tape it though,
just for myself?

No, no, no.

Now is everyone ready?

They'll be here any minute.

That's right, Alex.
I want all the glasses in lines.


Oh, Ray, that smells good.
Thank you.

I don't know how you can go through
with this so soon after...

Miss him, do you?
Peter Drinkwater?

Not particularly.
Nor do I. Nor does anyone.

But if you are missing him,

here's something
to remember him by.

This was here.

Here they are.

One, two, three, and...

Mrs Furman?

As head of the Midsomer Manor

I'd like to welcome you and your
fellow judges to Midsomer Manor.

As you can see, we've arranged
perfect weather

for your visit
to our perfect village.

This is Joyce Barnaby,
one of our readers.

How do you do?
How do you do?

Frank Mannion.
How do you do?

And Samantha Johnstone.
How do you do?

I'm afraid it's a very
tight schedule.

We only have an hour and a half.
Excuse me.

What is it, Mrs Devere?
I thought I saw someone
take something.


Oh, yes. Yes, sorry.

I'd like to introduce
Gordon Brierly,

who's lived here and been our vet
for 11 years.

It will be his job to give you
the full historical tour.

From the 3rd century AD
to the present day.

You're actually standing on
what we believe

was once a Saxon burial ground.


Mummy, are you alright?
I thought I saw someone.

Alex, didn't someone
just take a bottle?

No, Mrs Devere.

That's very strange.

Oh, well, we'd better
get on with it.

I thought we'd start with
the medieval alms houses

small parts of which actually
date back to the 14th...

Well, it looks as if the judges
have already arrived.

Are we going to join the tour?

No, no, no.

Seen enough of this village,
if you want the truth.

We'll wait till they get back.

Thank you very much
for talking to me.

I enjoyed it.
I like the idea of your book.

We should talk again.
I'd like that.

Do you have a car?
No, I'm walking to the village.


Well, I'll come with you,
if you don't mind.

I've got a bit of shopping to do.

There was a time
you didn't have to lock up.

Shall we?

Actually, I'm an actress myself.

Or at least trying to be.

You must know how difficult
it is these days.

My boyfriend, Nico,

he was the one who suggested
that I...

And that brings us back to the green
where we started.

And also to the present day.

We have a fete here every summer,

bonfire night, pancake races

and Easter egg hunts.

Midsomer Mallow isn't just
a village, it's a community.

And in conclusion, I have to say
that we certainly find it perfect.

Bravo. Well said.

Are you looking for someone?

I'm not sure.

Well, you must be hungry.
Starving after all that walking.

We have home-made wine
and all the food is locally grown.

If you'd care to step this way.

Mr Barnaby.
Mr Devere.

You're not, um...

I don't suppose your investigation
could wait just a minute or two?

Well, I wouldn't want to
obstruct justice

but the thing is we're in the middle
of this competition.

So I see.

It was a committee decision to go
ahead but we were rather hoping

that no-one
would actually mention the...

..the murder.

You think it'll spoil your chances?

Well, absolutely.

Don't worry, Mr Devere. We are here
in an unofficial capacity.

One of the judges is my wife.

Mrs Barnaby, of course!

And I haven't said a word.

Well, that's alright then.
Come and have a sausage roll.

Good afternoon, Your Honour.

Did you find Midsomer Mallow guilty
or not guilty, hm?


How is it?

Can we go somewhere quieter?

The music's so loud!

You're not serving beer, I suppose,

No. It's home-made wine.
Oh, forget it.

It was nice to meet you, Cally.
And you.

I'm meeting my parents for a drink.
Do you want to join us?

No. thank you all the same.

These village events
aren't for me.

Bye-bye, then.

I can't believe it.

Rosemary Furman hates
the countryside.

She lives in London,

and as far as I can make out
she never leaves it.

I mean she edits Country Matters
from the heart of Soho.

Exactly. She and Frank Mannion
are at each other's throats

the whole time.
He can't stand her.

Here's Cally.

Mother's just been giving me an
insiders view of the judging panel.

The only decent one
is Samantha Johnstone.

I think I'd better
go and rescue her.

Did you see him?
Yeah. He's nice.

You're right about the house,
though. It's creepy.

Are you alright, Samantha?

No, I'm not alright.

I've just seen someone
in the... street.

In the street?

Um, you can get me another of those,

Would you like to come and meet Tom?

No, no, I'm alright.

That lady over there -
she wants another drink.


Always been a very big fan
of your program, Mr Mannion.

Oh, please. Make that Frank.

Do you have a garden?

Nothing grand. Just a little patch
out the back.

That's all you need.

Oh, thank you so much.

But... but...

God, that's disgusting.
What is it?

Elderberry and apricot.

Where's a motor hotel?
I'm dying here.

Not soon enough, my dear.


You alright, darling?
Yes, I'm fine.

I'm glad you're here.
I think it's fun, Daddy.

I bet we're going to win.

Is she alright?

Another glass of wine,
they'll have to carry her out.

I've never seen anyone...



Oh, my God.

Let me through, please. Police.
Stand back, sir. Give her some air.

How is she?

Still breathing. She must have had
some sort of attack!

Someone help me!

Someone do something.

I'll need to run a few tests

but I'll bet your bottom dollar
it's cyanide.

Rat poison or something.

Er... see the skin?

Abnormally pink.
Her red cells have been oxygenated.


Cyanide. That's got no taste, has it?


And one in four people
can't smell it either.

Not a lot of people know that.

Bung it in a glass of wine,
she wouldn't have known a thing.

So that's her.

Now, the other woman.

Bella Devere.

Yeah. She was lucky,
she only took a sip.

Where is she?

The other doctor sent her home.
There's not much he can do.

Plenty of water, rest.
That's about it.


There... there was this little boy

carrying a glass of wine on a tray

and... and she took it,
she drank it


Were there any other glasses
on the tray?

How many glasses
was the little boy carrying?

Just... just the one.
She took it and drank it...

Leave me alone.

Just leave me alone!

Was it you?
Did you poison her?

You've gone mad.

Haven't you just...?

Go away!

Are you alright?

Tom, the editor, Rosemary Furman?
Dead, I'm afraid.

Cyanide poisoning,
would you believe it?

Oh, but why?
Who would want to kill her?

She might not have been
the target.

Crowded tent, bottles and glasses

Was anyone else poisoned?

Dunno. Lot of glasses were broken
when Bella fell over.

Look, I've got a lot of work to do.
You go on home.

I'll catch up with you later,

I didn't see anything.

I had nothing to do with the wine,
you see.

I was looking after the food.

Do you know who opened the wine?
Ah, Mr and Mrs Devere.

And Caroline.

She saw him, you know.
Mrs Devere.

Just after the judges arrived

and that lady introduced us.

That's when she saw someone
in the tent.

Doing what?
Taking one of the bottles.

That's what she said.

I didn't see who it was.

I'm not even sure
if it was a man.

The sun was in my eyes
and it was dark in the tent.

And he was taking a bottle?
He... had a bottle in his hand.

Perhaps he wasn't taking a bottle

but rather putting a new bottle
in with the others?

I don't know.

Did anyone else come over to
the table while you were serving?

I was there.

And a little boy, Alex.

He came over with an empty glass
and Mummy filled it.

Was this before or after you took
a drink yourself, Mrs Devere?

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

I don't think this is the right time
to be asking my wife questions

Chief Inspector.

No, they have to,
they have to find who it was

because - don't you see?

It was me they were trying to kill.


I didn't kill him.

Peter Drinkwater.

I know that's what you're thinking.

I wanted to.

I saw him leaving here.

That must have been
when he stole my credit card.

I know what the two of you
were up to.

I think it's disgusting.

You're old enough to be his mother.

But... the trousers?

The ones that I found.

The blood came out of the surgery.

Cat's blood.

And the gold chain.

I bought that.

I know what you think of me, Laura.

It's how you've always
thought of me.

But just for a little while

I wanted you to believe
I had killed him.

I wanted you to think I had the
strength to shove a fork into him.

It amused me.

Made me feel good.

You disgust me.

I want you to move out
of my house.

I don't want to see you again.
I don't want to know you.

God, Troy, what a mess.

Poisoning in front of our very eyes

and we still don't know who it is,
who was meant to die.

You think this is connected
with Peter Drinkwater's death, sir?

Unless it was an attack
on the whole village.

To spoil their chances
of the Perfect Village Competition?

I don't think so.

So here we have Marcus and Bella
Devere serving the wine.

Bella opens a fresh bottle.

Which must've been tampered with by
whoever it was she saw.

One thing bothers me, Troy.

The judges have just arrived.

Big four, including Joyce.

This is the moment
they've been waiting for

so why look into the tent at all?

According to your wife, Samantha
Johnstone asked for a glass of wine

just before it happened.

You spoke to Joyce?
Few questions, yeah.


Samantha Johnstone asked for wine.
Yes. She was here.

There was a 12-year-old, Alex James,
he went and got it.

And according to Caroline Devere,
he was only carrying a single glass.

Laura Brierly says the same.

Could it be that the poisoned wine

was intended for Samantha Johnstone?

Well, perhaps.
But nobody even knew she was coming.

She was a replacement.

So why would anyone decide
to kill her?

Where is she now?

Hello. Miss Hipson?

I wonder if you could help me.

I need a telephone number.

It's in Gloucestershire.

Er, one moment.

Mr Mannion.
No, I'm sorry. No autographs now.

I'm from Causton police, Mr Mannion.
Are you leaving?

Yes, I am leaving.

They tried to bore us to death
in the first village

and when that doesn't work
they try to poison us in the next.

Well, I've had enough.

Have you seen Samantha Johnstone?
No, I have not.

She's in room 200, opposite mine.

Police. Is that your pass key?
Thank you.


I think we are a little late.


But, Dad, what's going on?

I need you to think
very carefully, Joyce.

There is somebody extremely dangerous
in Midsomer Mallow.

First Peter Drinkwater, then what
could've been a mass poisoning

and now this.
You think they're all connected?

I think the first death
prompted the next two.

But I don't quite know how.
That's why I need your help.

You were the last person to speak to
Samantha Johnstone in the tent.

What did she say?
I don't know.

The music was so loud
I can't be sure I heard.

She was worried about something.
Something or somebody she'd seen.

She said, "I've just seen someone
in the street."

That's what it sounded like.
In the street?

But there wasn't anybody in the
street except Cully and that man.

Edward Allardice?
Was he on the green?

He didn't go anywhere near the tent.
He came in to do some shopping.

Wouldn't the village shop
have been closed?

Did you get to know
Samantha Johnstone at all?

Yes, yes, I did,
I had a drink with her.

We talked for about an hour.
Did she tell you anything?

Yes, she was an unhappy person.

Clinically depressed.

In fact she hinted
that she'd tried to commit suicide.

She was committed for a while.

She spent six months at a place
called Sebdon Manor.

Did she say where that was?
It wasn't in Gloucestershire?

She tried to make a phone call
to Gloucestershire

just before she died.
Just one last question, Joyce.

Did any of the other judges know
about the murder of Peter Drinkwater?

Oh, yes, we all did. Frank Mannion
had read about it in the paper.

He made a joke about it on the bus.

Where are you going?
Gloucestershire. Don't wait up.


How are you feeling, old girl?

I'm tired.

I brought you something.

It's been quite a day.


You sure you're feeling better?


I'm alright now.

You gave me quite a scare,
bear in mind.

I love you.

You know that?


Everything's gonna be alright.

Name, please?
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

I called you earlier.
OK. Gates are opening.


I'm Doctor Sellers. Mark Sellers.

I head up the psychiatric staff.

How can I help you?

I want to ask you about
one of your former patients.

Samantha Johnstone.

Do you have some ID?

Oh yes, thank you.

Detective Sergeant Tory?


Oh, yes.

I have mild dyslexia.

Samantha Johnstone.
Yes, I remember her. The writer.

Come in.

You have to understand that Manor
is not a psychiatric hospital

in the strictest sense.

Very few of our patients
have actually been sectioned.

Those that have, are usually
very close to the end

of their terms of sentence.

They see us more as a sort of
halfway house.

Had Samantha Johnstone been

No. She committed herself.

An attempted suicide.
Yes, this was 22 years ago.

Marital breakdown.

Lack of self-esteem, leading to
alcoholism and problems with dogs.


How long was she here?

18 months.

She arrived just before I did

which is probably why
I remember her.

Did she get to know anyone?

Was there anyone
she was particularly close to?

It's funny you should ask that,
I was just about to say, yes.

She formed quite a close friendship

with one of our most notorious

Annabel Weston.

I don't suppose the name means
anything to you.

No, please. Go on.

Westoncoast was very famous
in its time, 1955.

Annabel was 7-years-old, then.

I don't want you to go!
Why do you have to go?

Come on Anna, we talked about this.

Her parents were wealthy
and hardworking.

The father was an accountant.
They had a big place near the coast.

Charmed life.
Are you off, then?

Probably what made it all
so shocking.

You'll be alright with Mrs Foster.

No I won't.

Oh, you naughty child.

It was one night in June.

Nobody knows exactly what
happened, except...

..the child must have had some sort
of argument with the housekeeper,

a Mrs Foster.

Anyway, the child went down
into the kitchen.

She pulled out a knife.

And... well, she butchered
the housekeeper.

Stabbed her.
Seven or eight times.

Then she went to bed. She was asleep
when her parents got back.


Thank God.

The knife was beheld
by one of her stuffed toys.

There was never any question
that she died.

She admitted as much to her parents.

She didn't like the housekeeper, so

she killed her.

She had no idea
she'd done anything wrong.

And they sent her here?
Oh, no. No.

She went to various secure

before going to Brogmore.

She was there for over ten years.

She certainly wasn't
a threat to anyone, anymore

So she eventually ended up here.

And Samantha Johnstone?

More or less took her under
her wing.

There was something of a child
still, about Annabel.

Both her parents were dead
by this point.

Samantha became something of
a surrogate,

here in The Retreat.

I'm sorry.

What did you call this place?

The Retreat.

Manor sounds so prim and Victorian.

Everyone here calls it
The Retreat.

We like to think of ourselves
as a shelter.

One step away from the real world.

We've got to get back to
Midsomer Mallow.

Annabel Weston.
She's there, Troy.

Cally told me as much.

Homicidal maniac running about
with a pitchfork.

And for once, Cally was right.

Where are you going?
Oh, Gray Friar's house.

I left my tape recorder there.


Rosemary Furman's death
was a mistake.

The poison wine was aimed at
Samantha Johnstone.

Because Annabel Weston knew her?

Because Samantha Johnstone knew
Annabel Weston. Think about it.

A murder has taken place
a few days before at Midsomer Mallow.

And no ordinary murder.
A psychotic.

Pitchforks, it's just -

Annabel Weston was living
in the village.

Under another name, Jane.

And the one person who knows
her secret

is suddenly right there
in front of her.

Timing couldn't have been worse.

One word from Samantha
and Annabel is exposed, so,

Samantha has to die.


Is anyone there?


Who are you?

What are you doing here?

Who are you?


I'm sorry.

This is Cully Barnaby,
the girl I told you about.

I'm... I'm sorry, Cully.

I didn't mean to frighten you,
but I've been so afraid, I...

..I thought I heard someone,
I picked up the knife.

It's alright, my dear.

It's ever since we were burgled.

No, no, I'm sorry.
I shouldn't be here.

I just came to collect my tape.


Let me introduce you.

This is Jane Rochelle,

my wife.

Mr Barnaby.

Yes, come in.

I'm afraid Bella isn't here.

You know it's her we've come to see?

Oh, yes.

Bella. Short for Annabel.


You knew she'd killed
Peter Drinkwater.

I suppose I'd better tell you
the truth.

It won't make a jot of difference
now to Bella or to me.

Yes, I knew.

She told you?
Didn't have to.

I knew at once.

As soon as I heard
he'd been found dead.

You knew who she was
when you married her.

Annabel Weston. Yes.

Yes, I knew.

She answered an ad that I put
in the newspaper.

Lonely hearts.


..I fell in love with her.
Just like that.

Of course, I soon found out
the truth about her.

Couldn't be avoided.

She was still under supervision,

I brought her into the home office.

But it didn't matter to me

what she'd done
when she was a child.

I loved her.

So it was her driving your car
that day at Windy Whistle farm?

Had to be one or the other, Troy.

The daughter or the mother.

You knew I was lying?




Peter Drinkwater killed
shortly before three o'clock.

The killer was seen leaving the farm
a few minutes later by Ray Dorset.

Who was on his way to Causton.

You tried to pretend it was you,
didn't you?

I knew you were lying.

Just took me a little while
to work out why.

Are you certain
it was Ray driving the van?

Yes, he had the window down.
He was smoking a cigarette.

Ray smokes all the time.

Ray Dorset,

was driving to Causton on
the same side of the road

as the farm entrance.

So the driving seat would
be on the other side,

away from the farm.

There was no way you would
be able to see

if the window was open or closed
or for that matter,

if the driver was smoking.

Yes, I was having to think
on my feet rather.

And there was
something else you said.

Troy asked you what time you left.

It would be about half two.

You'd just gone up for your nap.

She always dozes off
in the afternoon.

And that's when I went.

It was half past two.

That business about Bella
going upstairs

for her nap.

You weren't asking her
to corroborate your story,

you were purposefully
trying to give her an alibi.

She was asleep,
you were in the car.

You were trying to protect her.


But why did she kill him?

What was the point?

She thought he was going
to marry Caroline.

She couldn't let it happen.

Very devoted mother.

See all the photographs Troy?

Unfortunately she carried
her devotion

a little too far.

She poisoned Rosemary Furman
and herself?


But I had no idea that Samantha
Johnstone had been chosen

to be a judge.
If she had, she's never have shown

her face on the green.

Must have been a great shock when she
saw Samantha getting off the bus.

Mrs. Furman?

As head of the Midsomer Mallow

I'd like to welcome you and your
fellow judges to Midsomer Mallow.

As you can see - Excuse me.

What is it Mrs Devere?

I thought I saw
someone take something.

She was improvising.

All she knew was that she had to get
away from Samantha

before she was recognised.

Before Samantha actually greeted her
by her real name.

I didn't know anything about
Samantha Johnstone.

I didn't know it was
going to happen.

I believe you.

But Bella had decided then and there
that Samantha had to die.

Can you get me another one please?

It would have been easy for Bella
to go home

and doctor a bottle of wine
with rat poison,

while the judges were being shown
around the village.

Then, all she had to do was wait.

That lady over there,
she wants another drink.

While the little boy carried the
glass to Samantha,

Bella poured the poison bottle
into the other glasses.

And then, and then, she took
a little sip herself.

And that was the clever bit.


When she fell,
she smashed all the glasses.

Yes, she made it look as if she might
have been the intended victim.

And at the same time,
destroyed the evidence.

All those broken glasses around,
we'd never be able to tell.

How much poison there was
or where the poison came from.

But then, Rosemary Furman
drank the wine.

Thank you so much.


God, that's disgusting.
What is it?

Her death was an accident.

So later on, that same afternoon,

Bella caught up with Samantha

in the hotel.

I didn't know, you know.

She was lying upstairs on bed.
I thought she was asleep.

But you knew she's killed
Peter Drinkwater.

And you must have known she was
responsible for the poison.

What were you going to do?

Stand around and let her wipe out
the entire village?


I'd already decided
what I was going to do.

And I've done it.

Where is Bella?

She's upstairs.

You said she wasn't here.

She isn't.


You'd have put her back in the bin,
wouldn't you?

I couldn't let you do that.

It would have destroyed her.

I gave her sleeping pills

and, um...

..then a pillow, you know.

Quite painless.

It was better for her.

So much better.

I only wanted her to be happy.

Oh, it was horrible, Dad.

Jane Rochelle wasn't killed
in that accident.

She was just very badly burnt.

I told you, she was so beautiful.

There they were, the two of them
living in that house.

Hiding from the world.

Do you know,
for a while I was certain

that he was responsible
for the deaths.


Well, actually, it was your fault.

You said that just before she died
Samantha Johnstone told you

she'd seen someone she knew
in the street.

Well that's what
I thought she said, yes.

But Edward Allardice was
the only person in the street.

That is true but what
she actually said

was that she'd seen someone she knew

from the retreat.

Meaning Sebdon Manor.

Well the music was very loud, Tom,
and I did say I wasn't sure.

You still mislead me.

I relied on you, Joyce.

Nobody's perfect.

Probably just as well.

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