Midsomer Murders (1997–…): Season 4, Episode 4 - Who Killed Cock Robin? - full transcript

I've outstayed my welcome.

Not at all, Dr Burgess.

Oh please... please call me Oliver.

Goodnight, Oliver.

Senorita Francesca.

Goodnight, Melvyn.

Take care, doctor.

Ole!

Oh, that boring, boring man.

He thinks you're Carmen.

Carmen.



Of course!
And, um, who is my Escamillo?

♪ Senorita Francesca,
you're the one for me

Bill. Bill, old fellow.

So I was up at the riding school
with Francesca,

I fell under her spell
and then finished up in a tree

down by Mary Mohan, by the goat.

Do you want a doctor?
I am a doctor.

And I shouldn't be drinking this.

I'll call Frank, he'll tow you out
and we'll all be none the wiser.

No, no, Bill What?

I hit something.

Old Billy's intact, thank the Lord.
A stag, maybe?

Evening, gentlemen.

This is kind of you, Frank,
but I ought to call the police.



It's no problem, doctor.
Look after our own, don't we, Bill?

Oh.

No, no, I hit somebody. I...

Was it that new fellow,
the Irishman?

Isn't he renting your cottage, Bill?

Yes. We'll see if he's at home,
shall we?

Oh, thank you.

I'm respected, Bill. I can't just
sweep this under the carpet.

Easy, old chap.

The one that does that delicious
trout with almonds?

No, they do a pickled egg
and a ham roll

and the best pint of ale
in the county.

Does it do crisps?

When he still wasn't back
this morning,

that's when you came to mind.

How drunk was the doctor?

Well, first thing I gave him was
a slug of whisky to help the shock.

To beat the breathalyser?

Oh, he'd been up at the riding
school with Francesca Ward.

Since she took over the place,

she's had all the males
in this village in a bit of a spin.

Tell me about the Irishman.

Stranger.

He's taken the cottage I own,

but I leave all the letting of it
to agents.

Did he ever come to the pub?

Once or twice, but he kept himself
to himself.

Someone said they thought he was one
of them horse whisperers

and he'd been asking about a job.

- What, up at the riding school?
- Uh-huh.

- Morning, Bill.
- Morning.

You got keys to the cottage?

Yeah, here, but I left it open
in the hope he'd be back.

It's about a mile down the lane,
Willow Cottage.

And Tom... no fuss?

You know villages.
I do know villages, Bill.

But I am a policeman.

Mystery solved?
Back in half an hour.

What else did you see last night,
Mary?

Nothing.
Oh, that's lucky.

Nothing to pass on, then,
to friends and neighbours.

Why should I?

Has your Irish friend,
has he been round this morning?

My friend? He's not my friend.

Oh, right. I'll be going, then.

Yes, I wish you would.

But as you are here,
you can mend that television.

I can't get a picture out of it
at all.

Yes, Troy, all the hospitals.

Sean O'Connell, Sean O'Connell.

Then get over here to Newton Magna.

Breaking and entering now,
Inspector Barnaby?

Chief Inspector Barnaby.

Well, I should hope so.

Eight years we're talking, ain't it?

Yeah, and to think you only did
18 months.

Don't shout it about.
You'll frighten the horses.

You're a friend of Sean O'Connell,
then?

Who?
He's the man who lives here.

Oh, yeah, yeah,
he's some sort of artist, I'm told.

You come to nick him?
What's he done?

This may seem an obvious question,
Melvyn,

but if you're not a friend,
what were you doing in his house?

I spotted you.
Riding past the gate.

With my daughter Julie.

You ever meet Julie?

She'd, uh, she'd have been
at finishing school.

Yeah, of course. Miss Stockard.
Hello.

Chief Inspector Barnaby,
one of the finest policemen

the force has ever thrown up.

Thank you, Melvyn.
You trot along now, sweetheart.

It's a picture ain't it, eh?

You got kids?

Yeah, a daughter.
She's a picture too.

They break your heart, don't they?

They say that.
I've been lucky so far.

Give 'em everything
and they break your bloody heart.

What are you doing here, Melvyn?

Last I heard you were living the life
of Reilly down the Costa Blanca.

Well, it's amazing what
a triple bypass operation will do

for a man's view of himself.

Bloodstock's my business now.

And it's all above board.

See the church? New roof.

I'm paying for that.

Morning, vicar.
Good morning, Melvyn.

I'm on the parish council.

We've, uh, saved the mobile library
and the bus service.

Now, here's something.

Once the source of all life,
now it's full of old bikes.

I'm restoring local pride, Barnaby.

My home, my castle.

Bought the old place 18 months ago.

I know that face.

Jackie Marsh.

Jackie, do you remember
Inspector Barnaby?

Doesn't he frighten the horses?

Jackie and his good wife, Lily,
take care of all my needs.

And how's Mrs Stockard then?

Bubbles? She's thriving.

Got a jewellery shop in Oxford.
Bits and Baubles.

Am I too early for lunch?

Right on time, sweet lady.

Meet an old pal of mine,
Tom Barnaby, Mrs Francesca Ward.

Hello, Tom.

Francesca has the riding school
where I stable my horses.

Take him away, Jackie.

This is my wife. Joyce.

Melvyn Stockard.
Delighted to meet you, Mrs Barnaby.

How do you do?
And I am Francesca.

How do you do?
Why don't you join us for lunch?

Oh, I'm sorry Melvyn,
we've got another engagement.

But, um, some other time, perhaps?

Any time you like.

Adios, Tom.
Espero que nos veamos de nuevo?

Beautiful lady.

I won't disagree with that.

Your lunch.

I'm sorry.
We've got some more work to do.

There's some lovely walks round -
Gavin joining you?

You won't need the car.

That party, Dr Burgess,
were you the last to leave?

Well, yes, I confess, I was.

That is, apart from Melvyn Stockard.
I had a feeling he might be staying.

It's a noisy business
towing out a crashed car.

Nobody looked through a window?

Well, not that I saw.

There was only Mary Mohan's cottage
and her windows were dark.

We'll need to check this
before you start any work, alright?

Yeah, no problem.

Will I be charged?

Well, that rather depends, doctor,
on us finding your victim.

Wonderful, Lily.

Daddy, what's the policeman
doing here?

Haven't a clue, sweetheart.

So this is where it happened?
Yes, Troy, it was.

Human impact about here.
Car into that stone thing down there.

Burgess was coming from
that direction,

from the riding school.

Pissed as a Lord, was he?
Most likely.

What have you got for me?

All hospitals within 50 miles.

No bleeding Irishman answering
to Sean O'Connell or any other name.

Now, why do I not feel surprised
by that?

There's too many feet,
but take a look.

Mrs Mohan?

Hello, I'm Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby. How do you do?

"To Mary with love?"

Yes, our lives did briefly entwine.

To have danced with Nureyev.
My wife should be here.

I didn't say I danced with him,

but I can still touch the ground
with the palms of my hands. Can you?

That's magnificent.

To explain my visit.

Yes, well, um,
it was the doctor's car, of course.

And we don't want to get him
into any trouble, do we?

What trouble?

Well, I'm hoping you might tell me.
What you heard, what you saw?

Well, I was asleep.
The dog woke me. I saw the car,

the doctor getting out apparently
unhurt, so I went back to bed.

And you weren't disturbed
by the activity in the lane,

half an hour later,
the car being towed away?

Was it?

Well, um, I was out for the count,
I'm afraid.

Dr Burgess has given me some pills.

Do you want sugar?
Er, no thanks, not for me.

Have you found the Irish chap?

You know him then?

Was he here yesterday evening?

No, I haven't seen him
for a couple of days.

In the course of your friendship
with Mr O'Connell -

It was casual.
Just the odd cup of tea.

Did he ever mention Mr Stockard?

Or the job he was seeking
up at the riding school?

Are you looking for something?

Dog's lost his ball.

Well, I can't help you with that,
I'm afraid.

Thanks for the tea.

We're in luck, sir.

But where's the rest of him?

Looks like he crawled away.

Or someone came by and picked him up.

We've had a problem.

No, don't put him off,
we'll lose the deal.

We're talking 300K here, Damian.

No, as arranged. We'll be ready.

Daddy, would you please tell me
what's going on?

I'm selling a horse, sweetheart.

Oh, Mr Barnaby and the young man
whose dog lost his ball.

Have you come for a riding lesson?

This is Detective Sergeant Troy.

We've come to ask for your help,
Mrs Ward.

Francesca, please.

Francesca. That's a fine beast.

Is that one of Melvyn's?
Yes, his name's Perry.

Perry. He looks a winner all the way.

What do you say, Troy?
Definitely, sir.

This is all very impressive.
Is Melvyn involved?

Yes, he is my business partner.

You know Sean O'Connell, don't you?

The horse whisperer.
Oh, yes. He came looking for a job.

I said I would think about it.

And what did you decide?
Nothing yet. I have been too busy.

Last night, Francesca,
you had some people round for drinks.

Doctor Burgess left your house
quite late.

Poor Oliver, is he in trouble?

Was he the last to leave?
Oh, no, Melvyn was still here.

Did Melvyn stay the night?

Well now, can that be,
even remotely, your business?

It would help me to know.

As it happened, he did.

Are you finished with me now?

It's horrible out there.
Let me make you some tea.

I'll make my own.

We were just going out, Dad.

Couple of pints with Noel
then off into Causton.

Try the new French restaurant.

Who's paying for that, then?
Me, Dad. Me. Right?

And after the nuptials,
is she gonna learn to cook?

Well, night, Dad.

Don't wait up.

Bloody pelting out there.

You alright, Chris?

Let's get a pint for the groom
and the lady's usual poison.

And a hair-dryer too.

You're still here?

Detective Sergeant Gavin Troy,

this is Julie Stockard,
the squire's daughter.

Is there something wrong
in the village?

What can you tell me
about Sean O'Connell?

The horse whisperer.

In Newton Magna?
Didn't know we had one.

Chris, meet...?
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

Friend of Daddy's.
Oh, right. Chris Megson.

This is Sergeant Troy.

Right.
Noel Wooliscroft. Best Man.

Are you two getting married?

In two weeks. Didn't Daddy tell you?

No, no, he did not.
He'll be a very proud man.

Yes, he's thrilled.

Her father is Melvyn Stockard.

Burglary from an early age, then on
to property swindles, intimidation,

half of North Oxford
under his thumb.

And you pulled him in?
I certainly did.

Him and his friend, Jackie Marsh,
for robbery with violence.

But my superiors at the time

couldn't resist fitting him up
with other offences.

They had no evidence.

A smart lawyer made mincemeat of them

and our squire ended up
with 18 months

for an offence which should have
carried 10 years, minimum.

Sean O'Connell, aged 43.
Former vet.

License revoked after conviction
for fraud, deception,

and conflict of interest,
October '96.

His talent was doping show horses
to win an event

which put up their selling price.

Then he'd act as adviser
to the buyer, passing them A1.

He did nine months
then emigrated to New Zealand.

And three weeks after his arrival
in a village where nobody knows him,

he disappears.

And all we've got is a blood-stained
handkerchief and Melvyn Stockard.

Not getting a bit sidetracked
with Mr Stockard, are we, Sir?

Get in, Troy.

Stockard buys and sells horses.
O'Connell knows a trick with them.

Right. So they could be pulling
a stunt together?

Or, I know, O'Connell's got
something on Stockard, blackmail?

He's hit by the car
and Stockard sees his chance.

Not so fast, Troy. Slow down.

Sean O'Connell, sir?
No.

It's Noel's Dad. Oh, God.

Ding, dong, bell,
pussy's in the well.

Who put him in? Little Johnny Flynn.

Who pulled him out?
Little Tommy Stout.

Hello, hello.

For you, Mary.

Robin Wooliscroft got involved with
Valerie Megson, the farmer's wife.

And Robin was the father of Noel,
the best man?

Aye, which makes it a dreadful
business. Worse than dreadful.

The lads are pals from school days.

When did all this happen, Bill?
A few weeks back.

Robin and Valerie were planning
a new life in New Zealand.

She had family or friends out there.

They thought Megson
had got wind of them.

So they just packed up and left?

More or less the next day.

They were going separately to
the airport, they were so nervous.

But Robin never got there, did he,
poor fellow.

And Valerie flew off without him?

Well, I hope so,
because otherwise...

Ah, there.
That solves your problem.

What's the matter?
Upset about Robin?

Huh? That's a shocking business.

It was you, wasn't it?
You or Joe Megson!

I beg your pardon?

What have you done with Valerie?

You've got it all wrong, love, hmm?

Why should I have
anything to do with it?

You let me know
if you have any trouble, hmm?

We will find the person responsible,
Noel,

but we're going to need your help,
and your mother's help.

I'll be in touch.

Two blows to the back of the head.
Death almost immediate.

Six weeks preserved in a well.

Yes. We won't get much
out of his suit,

but some of his possessions
survived.

Passport, airline ticket
to New Zealand?

You're ahead of me, Tom.

12th July, departing Heathrow.

Credit cards, a jade pendant.

He wasn't robbed, then?
No, except for his watch, maybe.

Odd for a man catching a flight
not to be wearing a watch.

Just a thought.
It's a good one.

Ah, that was stuffed
in his trouser pocket.

Valerie Megson.

She was booked on the flight, sir,
but she didn't show up.

The departure was at 2:30
on the 12th.

So they must have left separately
early that morning.

On Wednesday the 11th July
this year, Mr Megson,

your wife booked a flight, departing
next day, Heathrow to Auckland.

Oh, that's where she went then?

You didn't know anything about it?

Or who she was going with?

This morning, the murdered remains
of Robin Wooliscroft

were brought up from the well,

and it's common knowledge -
Common knowledge?

Is that all you've got to go on,
idle bloody tittle-tattle?

We're not accusing you, Mr Megson.

All we're concerned with,
at the moment,

is that your wife is safe and well.

Has she been in touch with you, sir?

Well, has she, Dad? Well, tell 'em!
You stay out of this.

What about you, Chris?

Have you heard from your mother?
No.

What about the letter she left you?

Well, he grabbed it from me
before I could read it. Tore it up!

Mr Megson, your wife has got
friends or family in New Zealand?

Just give us an address.

You'll not get her whereabouts
out of me. Faithless bitch.

And if you're not arresting me,
I'll ask you to leave my house.

We'll see you again, Mr Megson.

Well, what's going on, Dad?

What have you done with her?

And Noel's Dad. I want to know.

What? Are you saying, I killed 'em,
you little ponce?

Get out of my sight.

Why didn't we pull him in, sir?
What for, Troy? A show of emotion?

Is Chris at home?

He's with his father, Miss Stockard.
I'd leave it a moment.

But it would help if I could have
a word, please. Hop in.

Murder? Both of them?
It's unthinkable.

We're far from believing that,
Miss Stockard.

But we are concerned that
Chris hasn't heard from his mother.

Yes, well, so am I. So's Chris.

Did she have any close friends
in the village?

I don't know. Mary, perhaps.

Mary Mohan?

Sir.

Isn't that Noel's mother Bridget?
Yes.

And Frank Lightbourne?
He's her brother, Noel's uncle.

He works at the garage.

Look, I must get back to Chris now,
please?

But I can still touch the ground
with the palms of my hands, can you?

You've beaten me there, Mary.

So... I'll take care of this.

Thank you.

Anything else before I leave?

That wretched television.

Frank Lightbourne brought it.
It doesn't work either.

Ah, leave it with me.

And any problems, day or night,
I'm right on the end of that phone.

You're a very kind man, Mr Stockard.
Melvyn.

And... our little secret,

not a word to a soul, promise?

Of course.
Take care.

The New Zealand connection, sir.
Mrs Megson and O'Connell.

Did she send him to look for Robin?
Oh, you'd thought of that.

But that doesn't in the least
detract from your efforts, Troy.

But it does rather put Mr Stockard
out of the equation.

Melvyn.

What brings you here?
Community care?

Hit the nail on the head, Tom.
Problem with her telly.

And she called you out?
No job too small.

How's your murder enquiry?
Some progress.

Good. Well, any time.

I know where most of the bodies
are buried in this village.

Mary's gone for a nap,
by the way.

Thank you, Melvyn.

Mrs Mohan, we are very worried
about Sean O'Connell

and Valerie Megson, your good friend.

Have you heard from her?
No, I haven't.

Did Mr O'Connell
ever talk about her?

Yes, well, I mean, I can't remember.
It was the gossip of the village.

Do you have her address
in New Zealand?

Yes. Well, um, no, I've lost it.

She was moving about.

Um, excuse me,
I've got a splitting headache.

What's she holding back, sir?
I don't know.

But whatever it is, you can bet your
last penny Stockard is behind it.

O'Connell wouldn't be here,
would he, sir?

More likely down at the manor.

Francesca Ward knows where he is.
Have a look round the back.

Get out.

Isn't your business
down in the village?

In a murder investigation, Mrs Ward,
we talk to everybody.

Sean O'Connell. The horse whisperer.
Is he your guest?

Of course not.
I hardly know this man.

We can search the premises.
Haven't you done that already?

Now, I must ask you to go.
I am expecting company.

It's only fair to warn you,
Sean O'Connell has a criminal record

and if you intend using him,

you'll put your work here
in serious jeopardy.

We're sorry to have troubled you.

Yes, and I'd just like to say,
Mrs Ward -

What is it, Skuff?

I know who you are.

You can't touch me now, you beast,
I got friends.

The Stockard residence.

Yes, Mr Stockard, please.

Not at home presently,
but can I assist?

I fear that I've neglected them.

Do sit down.
Noel will make us some coffee.

No, not for me, thank you, Noel.
No, thanks.

Well, so how can I help you?

Mrs Wooliscroft,

did you know that your husband
was planning to leave you?

No, no, it was a bolt from the blue.

Oh, come on, Mother.
Half the bloody village knew.

Well, that's certainly news to me,
Noel.

Wednesday the 11th July,
or Thursday the 12th,

Mrs Wooliscroft, do you remember the
last words you had with your husband?

Well, of course.
The 11th was an occasion, you see.

The day we got engaged,
25 years ago.

I cooked him his favourite dinner.
Blanquette of veal.

Afterwards,
he was very affectionate.

So why had he booked his ticket
to fly off with Valerie Megson?

The next morning, Mrs Wooliscroft,
he went off to work as usual?

And when he got back that night?

Let me recall that evening...

..yes, it was my yoga class.

And when you got back
from your yoga class?

The house was empty.

But then, sometimes
he was called away on business.

No, he wasn't.

Why do you keep contradicting me?
Haven't I suffered enough?

Robin Wooliscroft's car.

Did he leave his office in it?
And where is it now?

Credit cards, bank statements.

Mr Barnaby?

She's lying.

I mean, I know I shouldn't say this
about my mother

but Dad couldn't stand
the sight of her.

So it came as no surprise to you?

Well, no, we knew what was going on,
but New Zealand?

We had no clue on that at all.

It must have been hard
for you and Chris.

Your father, his mother,
you'd known all your life?

Well, yeah, but her marriage -
well, you'd best ask Chris on that.

What about your Uncle Frank?
Frank Lightbourne, Bridget's brother?

What did he say about it?

Well, that's life
and good luck to 'em.

He's an easy come, easy go
sort of character.

And he got something from it.

Dad gave him some money, I think,
to sort out his garage trouble.

What trouble?

I dunno, but it seemed
pretty serious a few months back.

Thank you.

Mr Barnaby? Do you think
Joe Megson killed my Dad?

It's too early to say, Noel.

Pull up, Troy.

Miss Stockard, Mr Megson?

The horse whisperer.
I'd like the truth this time, please.

We found him here.

What time?
Just after midnight.

We were coming back from the lake.

Down there, behind those trees.

Why didn't you tell me?

He made us promise.

Chris carried him down to the Manor.

Take us.

Here. We got him
blankets and whisky.

But didn't he need a doctor?
He wouldn't have it.

Said he had a job to finish.

Someone had tried to kill him
and he had to lie low for a bit.

None of the household saw you?
No. Daddy was out.

We left him to sleep
and in the morning he'd gone.

All trace of him?

If you didn't see fit
to tell the police,

surely you told your father?

Why should he be involved?

So, one dead, two missing,

and Stockard playing
village policeman?

He's stringing me along,

but I'm willing to bet
that he is hiding O'Connell.

Cully's birthday, Tuesday week.
Oh, course it is.

She wants jewellery.
Causton's hopeless.

Jewellery?

What are you looking in Causton for?
I know exactly the place.

You coming to the wedding, Bubbles?

Of course. I am the bride's mother.

You've read the papers?

Don't need to.
Me and Julie got no secrets.

And the boy is a dreamboat.

Oh, she's brought him home, has she?
Ah, yes, we've all been out dancing.

Of course, I know what Mel thinks -
farm trash.

Where did he come from? Guttersnipe.
How's he doing?

Lording it, I'm told.

You know, I'm trying to divorce
the old swine

and get some money out of him.

But I can't get him on adultery,
he's got medical certificates.

Since his triple bypass
the poor old sod can't manage it.

Yep, it's all fixed.
And you're a good boy, Damian.

I shall mark this down, definitely,
in your favour.

What's new, Jackie?
It's the woman. Mohan.

What's her problem,
telly bust again?

Gettin' restless.

Well, I think she needs
a little holiday.

I was born in this village and
I mean to die here, in my own bed,

not in some stinking prison.

They got me cornered.

It's that bitch, Mary Mohan,
spreading her filth.

Her and bloody Stockard

and his tart of a daughter
with her claws in my boy.

I tell you, for two pins,
I'd string up the lot of them.

Well, you got my support,
you know that.

I should bloody think so.

The money you've had off me
these past months.

Mr Megson, Mr Lightbourne,

our boys have filed their report
on the doctor's car.

So you can go ahead
and fix it up now.

Oh, that is good news, sergeant.

He's been pestering me for it
and it's been clogging up my garage.

Come to look round the house,
Barnaby?

Got a warrant?
As a matter of fact, I have.

But before I use it -

last Friday night, Melvyn,

which Francesca tells me
she spent with you.

Well, so she did.

So you couldn't have driven back
past the road victim?

No, otherwise engaged. Sorry, pal.

Melvyn, I've spoken to Bubbles.

Oh, really?

I'm sorry to hear about
your difficulties.

Yeah, well, there are many ways
of pleasing a woman, Barnaby.

Didn't you know?

Glass of bubbly
six o'clock tomorrow evening?

I'm having a few friends in.
Bring the wife.

Yes, I will. Thank you.
Thank you, Melvyn.

Right. OK, thanks.

News on the Honda, sir.

Make it good, Troy.

Wooliscroft made a gift of it
to Frank Lightbourne

and he sold it three weeks ago
to a Mr Stewart in Haddenham.

It's all logged up and kosher.

So that's what Noel meant
by helping him out?

Well, up to a point.

A 'P' Reg Honda
is worth about eight grand?

Yeah.
Frank had debts up to 30.

He was about to go bust. Now he's
straightened out, by all accounts.

So who coughed up the rest of it?

Yes, I took it off him,
tidied it up and sold it on.

I offered the money to my sister,

but, well, distracted as she was,
she wouldn't have it.

And it helped with some but not
all your financial difficulties?

Yeah, yeah, it did come in handy.

If he gave you his car,
Mr Lightbourne,

you must have known
what he was planning to do.

No, actually I didn't.

No, he phoned me from his office
the day he left it.

On July 11?
Oh, was that it?

What time did he drop the car in?

Oh, well, it would have been
some time after 7:00,

if I remember rightly.

So you could have been
the last person to see him alive?

Apart from his killer, yeah.

You getting anywhere
with this shocking business?

It's a mighty strain on the family.

Young Noel, especially,
with this wedding coming up.

You know this village, Frank.

You tell me who did it.

What, you asking me?

Well, er...

..you know, I don't like
ratting on my friends,

but things don't look too good
for Joe Megson at present.

Oh, Tom, if only you could afford
all this

and the lovely senorita
to go with it.

Now, behave.

Ah, Chief Inspector
and Mrs Barnaby.

Come in, come in,
we're in the drawing room.

Now, Joyce, let me introduce you.

This is Dr Burgess.

Reverend Thorne.

Mrs Ward.

My lovely daughter Julie

and Frank Lightbourne, who keeps
all our engines ticking over.

How do you do?

Please.
Oh, thank you.

We... we go back a long way,
Chief Inspector Barnaby and I.

So, er, happy days.

- Happy days, Melvyn.
- Happy days.

But our purpose this evening

is to give Tom every assistance

in his effort to solve
this terrible tragedy.

Well, I'm afraid you must do this
without me, Melvyn.

There's a patient
that I must attend.

Oh, that's a shame, doctor.
Excuse me.

Ah, Mr Barnaby.

Mrs Barnaby, goodbye.

Oh, thank you and good luck
with your deliberations.

Yes, well, let's get
straight to the point.

With murder, you start with motive
and opportunity. Am I right, Tom?

That's usually the way round of it,
yeah, Melvyn.

And in this village, there is one
person with an abundance of both,

though it grieves me to say,

since he was about to become family.

No! You can't just accuse him!

I'm not accusing anyone, sweetheart.
That's Barnaby's job,

and the sooner
he gets his skates on,

the better for all concerned.

If I might just throw in a word?
Do, please, please do, Vicar.

I don't know Joe Megson personally,
since he isn't a worshipper -

But he is one of your flock.
He is, yes, indeed he is.

Yes, of course he is, yes, quite,
but, well, let me be frank.

He is known by reputation to be -
What? Known to be what?

Well, to be charitable,
a man of uncertain temperament.

And it would take such a man allied
to a brutal physical strength

to - to carry out
such an appalling deed.

What did you just say?
Julie.

No! He's talking about
my future father-in-law!

Daddy, I don't want
him to marry me!

Calm down.
No, I won't!

This man is a slimy creature

who'll do anything you say
to get his bloody roof mended!

I do most sincerely object.
Good!

Melvyn, this is a conversation
I do not find useful.

You did invite us here
for a social evening?

Yes... and oh, good heavens,
is that the time?

I really must be going.
Choir practice.

Darling, it's all right now.

It's all right.
This was not clever, Melvyn.

With the way things
are turning out, my girl,

I don't think you'll be
requiring anyone to marry you.

Police. Detective Sergeant Troy.

I have a warrant to search
these premises.

Here, what do you think
you're doing?

Sean O'Connell, Mrs Marsh.
Where is he?

I don't know
what you're talking about.

What's your number?

I've got friends, you know,
influential,

they'll have your gizzards.

Now, come on, get out.

I said out, the pair of you!
Bloody nerve!

Is that you, Sean?

Who is it?

Who's there?

Oh God, I prescribed her the pills

but she gave no indication
that she was suicidal.

Can someone get that dog
out of here, please.

Yes, Scuff, come.

This is no suicide

and it's a clumsy attempt
to make it look like one.

The pills rammed down her throat?

It would only take a handful
of these to do the job.

Someone not taking any chances.

Did they get what
they were looking for?

A man from the village
found her, sir.

He came to mend her television.

Got no answer and saw her
through the window.

He's in the toilet at the moment.

Time of death, around midnight.

No sign of breaking or entering,
sir.

She must have opened the door
to somebody.

Or someone had a key.

Start there, Troy.

Letters. Valerie Megson.
New Zealand address. Anything.

She used to be a dancer.

Friends with Nureyev.

Did you know she could
still touch the ground

with the palms of her hands?

I didn't know that.

I'd better be getting back.
Yeah.

And where were you,
you stupid dog?

Sir!

She was leaving tomorrow for Canada

and there's a letter from her sister
in Toronto,

which blows out the suicide,
doesn't it?

Is that the man who found her?

The TV repair man.
Yes, sir. Name's Cullen.

He's Stockard's gardener.

It's the old Bill, sir.
Not the goat?

Could I have a word, please, Melvyn.
In private?

All right, Jackie.

Bad business, this, Tom.

Why did she have to go and do that?
Top herself.

Tragic.
You tell me, Melvyn,

especially as she was just about
to leave for Canada

through your good offices.

Ah...

What had she done to earn it?

Only her right to protection.

If the law won't do the job.

Do you know she had manure
put through her letter box?

You think it was Megson?
Of course it was bloody Megson!

She was pally with his wife
and he wanted to frighten her.

You want this sorted,
turn that bloody farm up,

you'll find the evidence.

You, Melvyn, are the voice
of this village,

its eyes and its ears.

Didn't you know that Sean O'Connell
was here acting for Valerie Megson,

all the way from New Zealand,
looking for answers?

Didn't Mary tell you that?

And by your argument, O'Connell
is an equal threat to the murderer

and he's disappeared.

Look, I'm a bit busy this morning.

So are you by the look of things.

If I hear anything,
I'll let you know, all right?

Miss Stockard wants a word with you,
sir.

Not here. Please.

This is our place.

Midnight feasts, skinny dips.

All I want is to be here
with Chris.

Daddy's little girl, getting married
in the village he practically owns.

I know you don't like him
but he has reformed, you know.

And he's got nothing to do
with these murders.

No. He wants us to believe
it's Joe Megson,

stop the wedding, prevent him from
ever becoming your father-in-law.

But what if he's right?

Well, it wouldn't be your fault,
would it?

You and Chris,
you got lives of your own.

Yeah, well,
about the horse whisperer,

I didn't quite tell you everything.

Chris went home.
I stayed with the man.

Then I heard Daddy coming back.

From Francesca?

It was about 1:30.

Poor chap, he really did
need a doctor.

But Daddy said
leave it to him and sent me to bed.

I challenged him the next day,
he said the man was all right.

He was doing a job for him and
if I told you or anyone about it,

he'd cancel the wedding.

And where is he now, Sean O'Connell?

Easy now, easy fella. Easy.

That's my lovely boy.
That's my lovely boy.

Stage fright, is it?

You and me, both, but we can do it.

Show them what we're made of.

They won't harm you.

They'll treat you fine

because you'll make them richer
than they are already.

You'll be famous,

doing what you were born to do

and you'll show them
you're the best,

the best that God ever put down
on this earth.

Go on. Go on, fella.

I'll be with you
every step of the way.

Easy, fella. Easy.

This is it.

Well done.

Chase him up. C'mon!

Easy, old fella.

At least get out the bloody gates.

Just in the nick of time,
Mr O'Connell.

He's missing you already.

I didn't do it for myself
or the money.

Apart from the need to live,
that is.

It's about the horses.

Creatures like the rest of us
that crave a bit of attention

and understanding.

Tell me about Valerie Megson.

We just need a contact.

Ask Mrs Mohan.

We can't do that, Mr O'Connell.

She's been murdered.

Didn't they tell you that?

Just... just take me home.

I wouldn't if I were you, Sean.

All alone in that cottage of yours?

He's worked his magic for you,
Melvyn.

You can let him go now.

Somebody's tried to kill him,
haven't they?

Put a body down the well?

And now Mary Mohan.

Anybody safe in this village?

Why did you leave him there, sir?

I can't compel him to leave, Troy.

No point in talking to him
with Stockard there.

Ah, Doctor Burgess.

I was hoping to have a word.
Get in the car.

You did us proud, my friend.

Yes, well, it was touch and go
at times.

We were lucky to get away with it.

Don't say I don't look after you.

We have you on wilfully
obstructing the police,

failing to report a traffic accident.
I did report it.

No, you didn't,
you tried to cover it up.

Bill Pitman reported it.

What else have we got, sergeant?

Oh, drunken and dangerous driving.

Supplying powerful drugs
to a suicidal old lady.

That's one for the Medical Council.

No. Oh, no. No, not that,
please.

Oh, I'm a fool, I'm a fool,
I'm a fool.

Why did you do it, Dr Burgess?

Oh, good God, you policemen,
have you no brains?

It was Stockard.

He knew I hit that fellow.

He had me over a barrel,
and he needed my skill.

Have you any idea
the state that man was in?

Patching him up
was a singular achievement.

What about the money you earned
for your little escapade?

Oh, please, please, here -
take it, have it!

Troy.

Now, you listen to me,

if you want to continue in practise,

you'll bring your patient
to Causton police station

Monday morning, 9 o'clock sharp.

Yes, of course,
but how do I get him away?

Well, you're a doctor, aren't you?

Say it's a hospital appointment.

Widows and orphans, sir?

Hello, Frankie.

What do you want?
Come to play.

Ooooooooh, no.

Not now, and not here.

What's the matter?

Scared, little brother?

No-one can see us.

The doctor, sir.
Without his patient.

I tried but he wouldn't budge,
he just said he was in danger.

But he wanted you to have this.

Troy.

Will there be a reply?
No.

Thank you, Dr Burgess.

What time is it in New Zealand, sir?

Just dial.

Ringing.

Mrs Matthews?

This is Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby calling from England.

Do you have a Valerie Megson
with you?

Valerie Megson.

Mum?

Does she know
what she's come back to?

Yes, Bill. She does.

Mrs Megson?

Get some coffee, Troy.

What's happened to you?
Me?

I got run over

by the local doctor,

but I'm on the mend, they tell me.

Thanks to the self-same gentleman.

You two met in New Zealand?

Yes, through some farming friends.

Valerie and I got talking
and she told me her situation.

I was on the point of coming back
here so I offered my help.

To try to find out
what had happened to Robin?

That's right.

Why Mary? Why her, too?

Yes, poor gracious soul.

It's probable that the killer thought
that Mary Mohan was on to him.

Was she?

No, the truth is we weren't
making much headway.

We knew Robin wasn't back with his
wife, that was for sure.

12th of July, Mrs Megson.

The day you left for Heathrow.

You and Robin had planned
to leave separately.

We were meeting at 12 o'clock at
the check-in, but he didn't come.

Then I got a message.

Will Mrs Megson, passenger
on Flight NZ001 to Auckland,

please go to the information desk.

Mrs Megson, to the information desk
immediately.

Robin had phoned in, they said.

He'd been held up.

But I wasn't to worry,

I was to take the flight
and he'd be on the next one.

But I couldn't leave without him.

So I booked into an airport hotel.

Called Mary but she knew nothing.

Who else could I call?
His wife?

Not Joe, he'd have killed me.

All next morning I waited,

then finally I walked
onto the plane in a daze.

That flight - oh, God.

I'll never forget it.

The previous morning,

when you left the farm,

how did you get to Heathrow?

What?

Mary was driving me into Causton
for the London train.

But as we were leaving, Joe saw us.

As if he knew,
and was waiting for us.

But Mary drove like a mad thing
and she got us away from there.

Can I get something stronger?
Scotch?

Did you tell Mr Stockard what
you were doing in the village?

Well, there was an evening
of whisky, as I partly recall,

I may have let the odd thing slip.

I found this at the cottage.

Your suspects.

You don't miss a trick, you fellas.

MS - Melvyn Stockard.
JM - his handyman, Jackie Marsh.

No.

No. JM, that was Joe Megson.

Where is she staying?

I'll get her, the bitch!
Dad.

Showing her face back here!

Mr Megson, please, she's his mother.

What kind of mother walks out
on her son before his wedding?

She's not here for him, girl,
or to wear fancy hats in a church.

She came back for her lover boy,
and what good has that done her?

He's down there frying in Hell.

Stop! Stop! Stop it!

Get her out of here, Chris!

She's not for the likes of you,
never was.

Julie!

Don't listen to him.

It's us that matters, not him.

Or Mum. Us.

I love you.

Right then. Right.

I'll see you in church?

See you in church.

You'd better be there.

The watch.

I've forgotten the bloody watch!

Oi, you! What's up?

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Jackie Marsh found him
in the phone box.

We called Dr Burgess immediately.

I do have a search warrant.

I'll save you the bother.

What's the time?

Oh, it's er...

Not the real time.

Oh, 11.05pm. July the 11th.

O'Connell says he remembers
Mary showing it to him.

And then it turned up in Megson's
kitchen, planted by Stockard?

Well, who else? There they are.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Pray silence for the father
of the bride.

Ladies and gentlemen,
my good friends and neighbours.

It's customary at this time
for the best man to make a speech

of good humour and bad jokes
etcetera, etcetera.

But for reasons
I'm not going to dwell on,

Noel, our best man, has handed
the baton to me today.

Noel Wooliscroft, who I'm sure
you'll all agree,

has shown a level of guts and, well,
the true meaning of friendship.

So you're left with me
for the jokes.

I, er, first came upon this village,
I was 10 years old.

I vowed, one day that I would own
this manor where we are today.

And, well, by God's good grace

and a little bit of luck
on the gee gees,

I made it.

Beautiful. Just like her mother.

I'm sorry, I need you take a seat
please.

A moment, please, Melvyn.
What's up, my friend?

Ladies and gentlemen.

I'm sorry to spoil the party

but I'm afraid I must have
your attention, please.

This is not the moment, Barnaby.

No, please, go on.

Sergeant Troy.

Around 11pm on the night of July
11th in this village,

Robin Wooliscroft met his death.

Two weeks ago, his remains were
brought up from the well.

Now come on, this is a wedding.

Shut up, Melvyn!

Who put him there?

It's no secret he was planning
a new life for himself

with Mrs Megson.

Letters had been left
for Noel and Chris.

Flights had been booked.

But Robin Wooliscroft
never got to Heathrow.

At 7 o'clock on the evening
of July 11th,

he left his office in Causton.

Now he could have gone home.

Mrs Wooliscroft was at her yoga

and he probably had some last minute
things to do.

But what we do know for certain
is that sometime in the evening

he drove his car
to Mr Lightbourne's garage

and left it there because
he wouldn't be needing it any more.

He had just a short walk back
to his home -

a matter of 10-15 minutes.

So he could have met someone
or two people, perhaps.

What if he took a taxi?

Did he, Mr Lightbourne?

No.

There was a taxi ordered
for 8 o'clock the following morning.

Mrs Wooliscroft sent it away.

Well, I didn't know
what it was for, did I?

It was a chilly evening,
not many out of their homes,

so the one or two people
could have been unobserved.

But who were they?

The two people most hurt
by his plans working together?

No! I had nothing to do
with that man.

He should have kept hold
of his wife!

Calm down. Sit down.

But wasn't it much later,
Mr Lightbourne,

that he came by your garage?

It would help clear this up,
if you could remember.

It may have been later.
After dark?

I work all hours for the good
of this village.

Yes, you're everyone's friend,
aren't you?

Indeed, Robin Wooliscroft trusted you
with his secret, didn't he?

What secret?

He gave you his car which you sold
to ease your financial burdens.

But that was a drop in the ocean.

Didn't someone else offer
to wipe out your whole debt

if you agreed to help
in a murder?

But who in this village
could afford to do that?

The squire?

The farmer?

Or the widow?

Frank!
Nothing to do with me, any of it.

OK, Barnaby. Playtime's over.
Come on, everybody.

This was taken from Mr Wooliscroft
shortly after his death.

It's inscribed 'V to R'.

It was smashed at 11:05
precisely on the night of July 11th.

No!

That watch, Mr O'Connell.

Where have you seen it before?

Mrs Mohan's cottage.

It was dropped on her doormat in
a package addressed to Mrs Megson.

Five days ago she gave it
to Mr Stockard for safe keeping.

Two days ago Mr Megson found it
amongst his possessions.

Last night he handed it
to the police.

Daddy?

Last night, also, Mr O'Connell
was attacked with a hammer

in the village phone box.

The person who dealt those blows
was the same person

who killed Mary Mohan.

Fortunately, Mr Stockard's butler,
Mr Marsh,

was passing and courageously scared
off Mr O'Connell's assailant.

Unfortunately, for us,
he failed to identify him.

Yeah. It were dark, weren't it?

So to go back
to the night of July the 11th,

will you now tell us, Mr Lightbourne,

who else was with you in your garage?

Or shall I?

I know it's not been easy, Frank,

but thanks for being discreet
about all this.

Is that the way it happened,
Mr Lightbourne?

You deserved it, you filthy,
whoring, stinking slag!

No. Mum, get off, for God's sake!

Mary would not have let someone
in late at night.

We found a spare key under a stone,
doctor.

Frank must have seen her use it.

So, it was Bridget paid
Frank's debts with the garage?

Sisterly love, that, Bill.

And for services rendered.

I thought it was only farmers who
spread muck round here, Mr Stockard.

Well, we're all family now,
Megson.

Water under the bridge?

And as for you, woman.

Don't you touch her, Dad.

I didn't know that body
was in the well, I swear it.

No, but you took advantage,
didn't you, Melvyn?

When did you know
it was Frank and not Megson?

Last night.

Jackie saw him running away
but it was too late by then.

You planted the watch, did you?

Well, I was sure he did it
and you were pissing around.

But as far the cow dung,
that wasn't me.

I'd never do anything like that
to a lady.

No, that was Frank, also pointing
the finger at Megson.

So what happens next?

You gonna arrest me?

Oh, yes, Melvyn, for conspiring
to pervert the course of justice.

Do you know,
I feel quite sorry for him.

All this, and three beautiful women
who, I'm sure, he loves in his way.

And to think I only have two.