Midsomer Murders (1997–…): Season 8, Episode 6 - Hidden Depths - full transcript
Young solicitor Nicholas Turner, plagued by financial problems, falls from the roof of his house as his wife witnesses the event through the front windows. As Barnaby and Scott investigate the possibility of foul play, Turner's neighbor and friend, Jack Wilmot mysteriously disappears. Two eccentric friends of Wilmot's, an obsessive wine snob and an unsuccessful game show host, fall under suspicion as Barnaby begins to turn up details of an elaborate fraud involving all four men. before long, DCI Barnaby has two bizarre murders on his hands amid a flurry of broken and empty wine bottles.
Mm, yes!
Oh, it's you.
Cheeky sod! Who else would it be?
I have my admirers.
In your dreams you do. Anyway,
get a move on. I want to do that
shopping on the way back.
How's it going inside?
Mr Turner hasn't got up yet.
Mrs Turner's downstairs
taking coffee with Mrs Wilmot.
They're just rushed off their feet!
Has Nick discussed it with Jack,
do you know?
He hasn't mentioned anything.
It was financial, I know that.
I just wish he'd talk to me!
And he always used to get up early.
First into the office, last out!
He had enthusiasm.
And they used to get on so well.
The mood has changed.
You're reading too much into it.
He definitely hasn't said anything
to you?
My husband never confides in me
about financial matters.
No! No, for God's sake!
Oh!
No, don't!
I'm sorry about this, Joyce.
Save a bit for me to do,
won't you?
Perfect timing. As usual.
These things are beyond my control.
You know that.
You missed a bit.
You will be able to manage
the dinner-dance at Fallowfields
on Friday night?
Nothing is certain, Joyce.
But I see no problem.
What have we got?
Good question, sir.
The victim is Nicholas Turner.
A local solicitor.
Took a stroll off his roof.
The gardener, Steve Hope,
says he heard someone calling out
for help just before it happened.
He says he thinks it sounded like
the victim. That's him.
Morning, George.
Tom.
Bit of a bad landing, this one.
Initial impression
as to cause of death:
catastrophic head
and spinal injuries.
Quite a snappy dresser.
OK, thank you.
That's the downstairs neighbour.
She saw the body hit the deck.
She was having coffee with the wife
Felicity Turner.
Where's she? Where's the wife?
Upstairs. The cleaning lady's
looking after her.
This is Steve Hope.
Steve, this is
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.
Steve.
Are you OK?
I understand you heard some shouts
just before it happened.
Is that right?
I was working
on this side of the house.
Couldn't see anything, but yeah.
Upstairs...
Tell me exactly. What did you hear?
Shouting.
I'm pretty sure it was Nick.
"No! For God's sake!"
Something like that.
And then there was this yell.
I ran round
to this side of the house
and saw Felicity with... Nick's body.
I called the police.
Tried to comfort her.
Who else was here?
Antonia. That's Mrs Wilmot.
She was by the window.
Pretty shaken up.
Other than that, my partner, Sarah.
We're sort of a team. She does
the cleaning. I do the gardening.
There was no-one else? No callers?
Got a few scuff marks here, sir.
Could have been a struggle.
Question is, what would anyone be
doing up here in the first place?
Is there someone you can stay with,
Mrs Turner?
You could always stay at our cottage
if you... You know.
That's very kind.
Thank you.
It's not suicide!
It's definitely not!
He wouldn't do that.
He just wouldn't do that!
I've tried to get her to change out
of that dress, but she's in a daze.
Um... And you are the cleaner for?
I do the Wilmots, downstairs.
The two floors.
And the Turners up here.
When did you last see
Mr Turner alive?
It was just before it happened.
Just minutes, literally.
I was down there, dusting.
I saw him come out of the apartment
and go up the stairs.
Did it strike you as curious that
he was on his way toward the roof?
He's been behaving a bit odd lately.
Depressed. Not getting up till late.
I have seen him on the roof,
staring off into the distance.
So it wasn't that odd.
Did he seem stressed
the last time you saw him?
Not really.
OK. Thank you.
Get back to Mrs Turner.
Why did you ask if he was stressed,
sir?
If Mr Turner wanted to make it
not appear like a suicide,
he may have tried to appear upbeat
in his general demeanor.
Anyway,
we need to check his life cover.
And get his bank details.
The Shires Bank. Causton branch.
I saw the chequebook
in the apartment, sir.
Mrs Wilmot, this is
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.
Come in.
And you were actually talking to
Felicity Turner when it happened?
Yes.
What were you talking about?
Well, Nick.
And my husband, Jack.
Yes?
She was a bit worried that er...
That they might have fallen out.
She probably told you.
No. Fallen out? What about?
My husband works in the City.
I have a feeling he may have given
Nick some financial advice
that didn't work out too well.
And Felicity was worried about that?
Were there financial problems?
She seemed to think so.
Hm. Well, we'll need to talk
to your husband.
I'm afraid he's at work
at the moment. I could call him.
What time does he get home?
He tends to leave early
and get back early.
Avoid the rush.
Should be home about 6:30.
Please, come in, come in.
Thank you.
I have to tell you, Mr Perkins,
that one of your customers
died today in suspicious
circumstances. Nicholas Turner.
A local solicitor.
Dear, oh, dear.
Dear, oh, dear!
I actually knew him quite well.
He's the occasional member of a pub
quiz team I sometimes play for.
Can I ask what these circumstances
were of the...
Death. Yes, you can.
It was a fatal fall.
And when you say
you're treating it as suspicious,
does that mean
there's no question of it being...
self-inflicted?
You mean suicide?
We're keeping an open mind on that
at this stage.
We need to ask
what his financial situation was.
In many ways,
he was an exemplary customer.
In many ways. But...
This is in confidence?
Of course.
He had the misfortune of having
parents-in-law who suffered greatly
with their health
towards the end of their lives.
Well, it was unfortunate for them,
of course, as well.
But Nicholas insisted on giving them
the best healthcare available.
And you know how expensive
that can be.
A very generous man.
No expense spared.
They lingered.
Mr Turner was in debt?
House mortgaged to the limit,
I'm afraid.
Overdraft - not a huge one,
but big enough.
Oh, dear.
Was he left anything?
Sadly, no.
It turned out the only
remaining asset the parents had
was their house in Causton.
I'm afraid
that too had been remortgaged.
Had he any enemies?
Do you know Otto Benham?
The local historian.
Expert on Roman Britain.
Yes, I do.
He's a solicitor too, isn't he?
That's him.
I had heard Otto had been
casting a few aspersions
on Nicholas's professionalism.
Nicholas had taken
a few clients off Otto.
One or two highly-valued clients.
So...
Nick wasn't just a business partner.
He was also a good friend.
Hm. Mr Martin, we need to ask you
some questions
which may appear a little um...
insensitive at this time.
Oh... Thank you, Margaret.
We've heard
there's a rumour going round
that Mr Turner may have been dipping
into your clients' accounts.
Could there be any truth in that?
Absolutely not!
We'd like you to look into
those accounts to make certain.
Are you all right?
I'm sorry. Yes. Come in.
Jack isn't actually back yet.
But I'm sure he'll be back
any moment.
You spoke to him at work?
Told him we wanted to talk to him?
No. I didn't, actually.
Um...
He wasn't in the office today.
Well, was he out on business?
They don't actually know
where he is.
Which is er...
But he'll be back.
I know he'll be back.
It's quiz night at the Crown.
He never misses quiz night.
The next question's
the last in this round.
What is the longest river in India?
- Indus.
- Ohhh!
Make that Russia.
Blame him!
We'll recommence in ten minutes.
Hello, Tom.
Viv.
You want to keep your friend
under control. He'll get lynched.
That would be
justifiable homicide!
Viv, have you seen Jack Wilmot
this evening?
I doubt he'll be in. His neighbour
died. Is that why you're here?
You don't know where he is?
Ask one of the Chateau Lafites.
The what?
The name of his quiz team.
I think I know that one.
You know the face and the glasses.
Local celebrity and former
TV quiz show host, Mike Spicer.
Bloody hell, he was awful!
The fellow with him is Otto Benham.
The one who was peddling the rumours
about Nick Turner?
Yes?
I'm Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby. And this is DS Scott.
We were wondering if either of you
could tell us where Jack Wilmot is.
I know he's let us down. A whole
bloody round of football questions.
He's our sports expert.
Or at least, he's supposed to be.
Probably staying at home.
Some misguided attempt
at respect for the dead.
He neighbour managed to fall off
his roof and kill himself today.
We're keeping an open mind
as to whether or not Mr Turner
fell off the roof all on his own.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Are you treating
Jack as a suspect, Inspector?
He's not at home.
Wife doesn't know where he is.
Did he take the car?
No. Apparently, he walks
to the station in the morning.
On another matter,
we've been told that someone
has been putting rumours about
that Mr Turner was dipping into
his clients' accounts.
Nothing to do with me, guv!
Have you heard the rumours?
Of course.
Never trust your money
to a man who pays his bills late.
Or drinks low-alcohol lager!
It's not growing on me. Is it you?
Thank you for your time, gentlemen.
Spot the charm school graduates!
Perkins from the bank's here.
I think he's worth another word.
The barmaid might be worth
talking to as well, sir.
She looks like
one of life's observers.
She might have seen something.
OK, see what you can get.
Mr Perkins, we meet again, sir.
Please.
Thank you.
Do you think Otto
had anything to do with what
happened at Sandford House today?
This is George.
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.
Why are you asking?
Otto Benham didn't get where he is
by keeping to the rules.
We had a minute's silence earlier,
for Nick.
They just carried on
sipping their wine. Both of them.
Arrogant so-and-so's.
Everybody else comes down here
for a laugh.
Talk about competitive! That lot
take the quiz very seriously.
That means they win. A lot.
Otto can't stand losing at anything.
Quiz night or anything.
Cheers, Jane.
Your team-mate
seems a bit under the weather.
Jane knew Nick Turner quite well.
She used to work for him.
How well did she know him?
Quite well.
Thank you. Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby, Jane Hampton.
How do you do?
I understand
you knew Nick Turner quite well.
Yes, I did.
We're starting the next round in a
few minutes, so get your drinks in.
I'd like to have a chat with you,
if that's all right.
Background on Nick.
Where can we reach you?
I live at the Lodge,
at the entrance to Sandford House.
We'll be in touch. Thank you.
Excuse.
It's not a good time
to talk to Zara, sir.
I'll have to pick my moment.
Zara?
What?
Jack's just not the sort of person
who goes off.
All I'm saying is it's weird.
Very weird.
Especially in light of all the...
I know you, don't I?
You're on the telly.
Well, just um...
some trivial little game show.
Mike Spicer's Ga-aaame Of Your Life?
Oh, that was awful.
Just through the gates.
You can pull up by the chariot.
I'll give you a ring tomorrow.
Mr Spicer will pay you.
Any news?
Otto?
About Nick Turner?
Apparently, Jack's disappeared.
Have you heard anything?
Just get some sleep, dear.
You NEED your sleep.
Antonia! What is it?
Is something wrong?
I baked you a loaf.
It's a bit early, isn't it?
What time is it?
Is Jack not back?
No.
There were some letters for Felicity
in the box.
I wondered if you wouldn't mind...
She's staying at the Hopes'.
It's a bit awkward for me,
going up there.
Of course.
There's no word from Wilmot's wife,
sir. No messages.
We have to assume
Jack Wilmot's still missing.
Which makes him our chief suspect.
Maybe Felicity Turner
had a boyfriend.
Two birds with one stone job.
Get rid of the husband
and land the insurance money.
That's possible.
Unless, of course,
Jack Wilmot is dead as well.
Any sign of your husband?
No.
We were coming to see you.
Have you got a recent photograph
of Jack?
I'm just on my way back now.
Do you want a lift?
Mr Barnaby,
do you think, at some stage, I could
have a few minutes of your time?
I'll walk back
and look something out.
It's just that something happened
when I was working for Nick.
Something he asked me not to mention
to anyone.
But I was wondering if, in the
circumstances, it might be relevant.
A man named Peter Blagdon contacted
him and they had a meeting.
That's a familiar name.
You may be thinking of
Anthony Blagdon, his brother.
Yes, he used to own Sandford House.
He still owns the freehold. No-one
sees him. The agents handle it all.
What was this meeting
with Peter about?
I don't know.
It was away from the office.
But I saw him.
A nondescript little man.
And I had the distinct feeling
something...
something shady was going on.
And then a couple of weeks later,
Nick came back into the office
one afternoon, looking terrible.
He said there'd been an accident.
I asked if anyone had been hurt,
and he said, with a weird look
in his eyes, "You could say that."
I'd never seen him like that before.
What did he mean?
He wouldn't say.
He changed the subject.
But it was about that time
he became depressed.
And sort of...
I don't know. Spiky and withdrawn.
And your relationship
with Mr Turner,
that was... purely professional?
We were friends.
I don't know what you've heard.
But there was nothing
more than that.
What about Felicity, the wife? Did
she have anything? With anybody?
Like who?
Jack Wilmot, for example.
Jack's a flirt with everyone.
We've all put up with it.
OK, perhaps he was a bit more
persistent with Felicity,
but that's only because she was
too polite to tell him to get lost.
What is it they say?
Boys and their toys?
Apparently, they're all
very accurate reproductions.
Otto has his own private museum.
He can spend whole days
in there sometimes.
Which seems to suit us both
quite well.
Not across the lawn!
How many times
do I have to tell you?!
I wouldn't mind if she could
pad across on her own two feet,
in flat-soled shoes, but I have to
play croquet on this rutted surface.
He's all yours.
You found Jack yet?
No. No, we haven't.
But a name has come up.
And I know that your knowledge of
local families is pretty extensive.
Do you know a Peter Blagdon?
Peter. I know Anthony.
Peter's his wayward brother,
isn't he?
Lives abroad somewhere.
But you've never met him.
No.
I also have to ask you
where you were yesterday at midday.
Ah!
I was at my office.
As everyone there can testify.
You're welcome to ask them.
Does the delicious Jane Hampton
have an alibi?
You were talking to her last night.
Yes. Why do you ask?
You know she was in love with him?
With Nick Turner. And we all know
how quickly love can turn to hate.
That's why she left Turner & Martin.
Couldn't bear being so close to him
and not being able
to show her true feelings.
Why do you say that?
Oh, everyone could see it!
Apart, of course, from the idiot
Turner himself. He had no idea.
Why she fell for him...
She used to have a high-powered job
in the City, you know.
Couldn't cut the mustard.
Had a nervous breakdown.
That's probably why
she was so attracted to Nick Turner.
The human equivalent
of a comfort blanket!
Huh!
A rather wet one, at that!
I think you'll find her
on the bench at the end there.
Thanks, Sarah.
I know!
I'll call you.
Felicity!
Hi.
I thought I'd bring up the post.
Antonia asked me to pass them on.
Thank you.
Is there any news on Jack?
He still hasn't appeared.
And are the police treating him
as a suspect?
The Princess of Wales
descends the staircase,
looking absolutely radiant.
She pauses, speaks to one of the
ladies who work here at the theater.
She meets Raymond Voss, the manager.
He introduces her
to the assembled celebrities.
There, the Princess shares a joke
with one of the cast, Mike Spicer.
The entertainer shakes hands
with Her Royal Highness.
She's never in too much of a hurry
for a word of encouragement
or to offer advice.
Mike Spicer, there.
Mike Spicer!
I've had Barnaby round here,
asking if I know Peter Blagdon.
How the hell
does he know about that?
I don't think he does.
He's just fishing.
So when he mentions Peter Blagdon
to you, don't react.
You've never met him.
Understood?
Oh, my God!
No, just be calm. It will be fine.
He's probably on his way over
to you now. Stay calm.
Yeah. Yep.
Jack and me with Felicity and Nick.
That was a lovely day.
Have you got a larger one of Jack?
Alone?
That's a good likeness.
Can we take this one?
Is there something wrong?
No, no. It's nothing.
You'll think I'm completely barmy.
Try me.
I keep thinking
I'm hearing these noises.
As if...
It's rather a difficult one
to explain.
When we first moved here,
Jack heard stories at the pub
about there being an old wine cellar
that was supposed to be
under the house.
He became a bit obsessed by it.
Trying to find the entrance.
Anyway, he...
He suddenly stopped looking.
It was odd.
Do you think he found it?
I had a nightmare, last night,
that he was locked in.
He was trying to communicate with me
somehow.
Trying to get me
to find the entrance.
And now I keep hearing these noises.
Who would have locked him in?
I'm just being silly.
There's no-one.
We'll be in touch
if we hear anything.
And you'll contact us
if he calls you, yes?
There is just one more thing.
Do you know a Peter Blagdon?
Anthony Blagdon's brother?
Yeah.
I've heard of him vaguely but...
You might try the agents.
They handle everything for Anthony.
Morgan & Associates.
OK, thank you.
I'm afraid I can't really help you.
Peter moved abroad
shortly after Anthony's wedding.
There was some sort of scandal
in all the tabloids at the time.
And I really have no idea
whether he's been back since.
The older brother's contact details?
Anthony won't be able to help.
Well, I do need them.
I know for a fact
they haven't spoken in ten years.
No idea whether he's alive or dead.
Cares less.
Please.
I'm afraid I was here...
...alone at the time.
So there's no-one to corroborate it.
Hm. So, no Mrs Spicer?
Ha!
Several.
And all of them
are far better off than me.
Everything I earn these days
hardly touches the sides
before it wings its way
into their accounts.
The ladies, eh?
Where would we be without them?
So we're not married at the moment?
Oh, I think I've learnt
that particular lesson, Inspector.
My last wife
ran off with the plumber.
Can you believe it?
I was BAFTA-nominated,
for God's sake!
Or very nearly.
Do you know Peter Blagdon?
Mm... Blagdon.
Blagdon.
Isn't he that landowner chap?
You're thinking of Anthony.
This is Peter Blagdon.
Am I? Oh, right. Yes.
Er... Peter.
Nope.
Nah.
Don't ring any bells.
What have you got there?
Peter Blagdon's
proving a bit evasive, sir.
He fell out with his brother,
Anthony, big time.
After he got caught on the job
with Anthony's wife
at Anthony's wedding reception!
No-one knows where he is. But I've
been on to a contact at a tabloid.
He dug around in the archives
and came up with this.
That's ten years out of date,
but that is Peter Blagdon.
Are you sure?
Yeah.
We've got a few other pictures,
but that's the best one.
You can see why I'm confused,
can't you?
You described the man you saw
as being small, nondescript.
This is not the Peter Blagdon
who was with Nick Turner.
Ah.
Causton police.
Mr Martin.
Mr Barnaby, might I have a word?
You asked me
to check through the accounts.
Ah.
And?
There is some money missing
from the clients' accounts.
How much?
Ã150,000.
Ah.
Antonia.
Just the person we're looking for.
What are you doing?
We're looking for you, my dear.
I think I just said that.
Where's Jack?
I don't know where Jack is.
No, no.
I know that's the... official line.
But you can tell us.
You can tell us, Antonia.
I wouldn't tell you anything.
Ever!
I know you're behind this.
I know.
Just go away!
Some say the story's rubbish.
Some say it's genuine.
And you? Do you think there's a
secret cellar under Sandford House?
I'm in the 'don't know,
haven't a clue' camp. That's me.
I know someone
who's been down there.
Charlie Rice. He swore it was true.
And he never spun a line!
Who's Charlie Rice?
Dead now. He was an old boy.
Eighties. Vivid imagination.
No-one else has claimed
to have been there.
OK. Thank you.
Scott.
Sir?
Any luck with Zara?
She's a bit nervous talking here,
sir.
I thought I'd ask her out for
a Chinese. Get the setting right.
Somebody's nicked
the white line machine!
Mr Barnaby.
Hello, Steve.
I've just come from the pavilion.
I went to mark the pitch,
but the line machine's gone!
Could have borrowed it
if they'd asked.
You must report it, Steve.
Yeah, well... Maybe it'll turn up.
Steve, we've just been talking about
that rumour
of a cellar under Sandford House. Do
you think there's any truth in that?
It's not impossible.
It's not likely.
Ah.
Do you think I could have a word?
It's just...
You know I told you,
when I was working on the bench,
how I didn't have a view of the roof
at the time?
Well, I don't know
if it means anything.
But it was Felicity,
Mrs Turner, who asked me to work
there on the bench at that time.
Are you trying to tell us
something here?
No, no.
No. It's just...
I normally decide for myself
where I'm going to work.
No-one tells me, normally.
Oh!
What is it you want?
Money? Is that what you want?
Oh, my God!
Not my mouth! No!
I have asthma!
Oh, no! Please!
What's going on?
Who are you?
Is this some kind of joke?
What is this?
What are you doing?
I order you to stop! Do you hear me?
Right! That is it!
My God!
It's a '78 Margeaux!
You bloody maniac!
Bernie! Is that you?
What are you doing?
For God's sake, call the police!
Bernie!
You're in a bit of a pickle,
aren't you?
Oh, you stupid woman!
Do something!
Call the police! Do you hear me?!
Can I suggest
about five degrees to the left?
No!
The postman that found the body
removed some of the glass,
looking for vital signs.
There were none.
Do you think
someone was making a point?
Several.
We'll be able to give Steve
his white-liner back, anyway.
Someone's gone to a great deal
of trouble over this.
Ah! Mr Barnaby. Come in.
Cup of coffee?
No. No, thank you.
This is DS Scott.
May we express our sincere
condolences for your loss.
Thank you very much.
We understand you were positioned
at an upstairs window
when the postman found you.
Yes, that's right. I saw it all.
It was absolutely ghastly. Terrible.
Can you describe the intruder?
Well, he was... wearing black.
Black balaclava.
Quite tall, I suppose.
Other than that...
It was quite a show.
Er, Mrs Benham,
we have to ask this question.
Who inherits your husband's estate?
I do.
I think I do.
Otto! Otto!
Oh, God, it's Mike Spicer. You
couldn't deal with him, could you?
I don't think
I could face him just now.
I'm sorry, sir.
He's my friend!
Mr Spicer.
Thank you, Paul.
Mr Spicer.
Mocking him in death.
This is a revenge killing.
Yes, indeed.
We are wondering
what it's in revenge for.
How the hell should I know?
What are you suggesting?
Can you tell us where you were
last night at 12 o'clock?
At home in bed! Why?
Where the hell do you think I was?!
It's as I thought.
I knew my husband wouldn't want
his wife to be seen to go without.
Did you get rid of him?
Yes. We'll talk to Mr Spicer later.
Is this stuff from the safe?
Chateau Latour 1961.
I take it that was a good year.
Who'd bother faking a bad one?
They're obviously fakes. Must be.
It's one of Otto's scams.
Sir.
There's some more wine labels,
as well.
Latour '59.
Petrus '61.
A Margeaux. Something called a Haut
Brion? I think that's expensive.
What sort of scam?
It's no use asking me.
I kept well out of his doings.
But something's iffy. You can
count on that.
Mrs Benham, do you think there was any significance
of them putting you by the window like that,
so you could witness
what was happening?
Yes, I think there probably was.
I've always been aware
of what a shyster Otto was.
But I decided early on
to turn a blind eye.
I've always been very keen
on comfort.
Status.
Couldn't really live a life
without it.
I imagine, whoever it was,
thought that witnessing my husband's
death would be a form of punishment.
But you see,
I'd had my punishment already.
No, I don't mean
the riding accident.
I mean living with the man.
Sharing his appalling life.
Quite punishment enough.
I suppose I did feel a twinge of pity in his
last shuddering squelps of agony. But...
...not a great deal.
I want you to take the wine
and the labels
to the auctioneer's in Causton.
See what their experts make of them.
Antonia!
I'm so sorry, Bernie.
You must feel awful.
Mixed feelings, really.
How are you? Any word from Jack?
No.
Nothing.
Come and have a cup of tea.
Or maybe something stronger.
Do they know who did it?
Spoiled for choice in the
'enemies of Otto' department!
Bernie...
I'm sorry to ask.
At a time like this,
it must seem really selfish,
when you've just lost your husband
and everything, but... I'm desperate.
What is it, my dear?
What happened to Otto, it's...
It's made me think.
You see...
I've been suspecting that Jack was
involved with Otto in some kind of...
Oh, excuse me for saying this,
but...
Some kind of dodgy deal.
Oh, please. If it involved Otto,
it almost invariably was.
We've just found a collection
of faked wine labels in the safe.
If that isn't a dodgy deal, I don't
know what is! I'd offer champagne
if there was any left. But
I rather think it's all on the lawn!
Ah, no! There is a bottle left!
Bit of bubbly, my dear?
Otto Benham?
When did it happen?
About midnight, last night.
I have to ask you this.
Were you both here last night?
Yes.
Yes.
Mrs Turner, did your husband ever mention
an old wine cellar under Sandford House?
He... He may have done.
I think it was more Jack
who went on about that. Um...
It was just an odd story.
And you?
Do you know anything about it?
Not really. Local rumour.
I've never paid much attention.
A case of the Petrus '61
went for $90,000, apparently.
Six bottles of Mouton Rothschild
for $70,000.
But they both had a very good... provenance.
That's like a pedigree, sir.
Still, the auctioneer reckons that a full
bottle of clear, good quality wine like this,
even without the provenance, would cost
at least a grand a bottle.
We're talking big money
if all of these were genuine.
But...
The auctioneer says
these aren't even very good fakes.
Any expert could spot them.
And the really interesting thing is
that this bottle, a genuine Latour '61,
was brought in for valuation
a month ago.
That actual bottle.
Yeah.
The auctioneer says he recognised
the stain on the label.
It was brought in by two men. They were very
impressed when they found out its value.
One of them had a flamboyant
handkerchief in his breast pocket.
And they had a list of other vintage
wines they wanted prices for.
Exactly the same wines
as these fake wine labels.
He offered to get back to them
with more information.
But they seemed strangely reluctant
to give contact details.
Descriptions?
Both six foot and thirtyish.
Nick Turner and Jack Wilmot?
DCI Barnaby.
DS Scott.
Slow down! Start again, please.
Did she say what it was about?
We'll be right...
We'll be right -
Over.
There.
You first.
Jane Hampton is here. Wants to talk.
We'll see her on the way.
That was Antonia.
She reckons she's found
the entrance to the cellar.
Hello, there.
I'm afraid we're just on our way out.
I'm sorry. It won't take a moment.
I don't know if I should be saying
this. It feels a bit awkward.
I went to see Felicity at Sarah
and Steve's to give her some post.
And...
Well, she was in the garden
and didn't know I was there.
I heard her, laughing and happy,
on her mobile to someone.
When she finished her call and saw me,
she was the sad, grieving widow again.
It just seemed...
That's all it was. It was probably
nothing but I thought...
No, no. You were right to tell us.
It's down there.
The door on the right.
I don't remember a padlock
being on there before.
Here. Someone's cleared a path
through here.
This is what I saw.
I thought I'd better call you.
I wasn't sure what I might find.
Quite a lot of footprints.
They look recent.
Here.
What about this?
Wine cases. They've been
standing there for several years.
Or it's been made to look that way.
That's handy.
"This is DCI Barnaby. Please leave
a message after the tone."
It's me. I know you haven't
forgotten the Fallowfields do.
Cab's picking us up at half-past seven.
Just to remind you. See you soon.
He's left the key in the lock.
Have you got a signal?
No.
There's not enough gap
underneath the door to get at it
even if we managed
to push it through.
Our only chance, Scott, is digging
through the door frame. Here, look.
Right.
Jack's dead.
I'm sorry?
If he's not down here,
he's dead.
I know it. I just know it.
Why do you say that?
He didn't kill Nick.
He wouldn't kill anyone.
And he wouldn't just disappear!
Someone killed Nick. And Otto.
And they've killed Jack, as well.
Who? Who'd kill your husband?
I don't know! I'm just saying!
You thought that the cellar was
under the house, didn't you, before?
What made you, all of a sudden, look
for the entrance in the outbuildings?
How goes it?
The damp's softened the wood a bit.
It's still going to take a while.
Are you supposed to be somewhere,
sir?
Yes.
I'm supposed to be taking Zara out
for a Chinese.
Could have picked a better time
to be locked in a secret cellar.
Are we going to get out of here
before the air runs out?
Before we all die of thirst?
Of course.
I wouldn't be so sure.
It's going a bit slower
than I thought, sir.
We'll get out. Don't you worry.
You asked me why I decided to look
in the outbuildings for the cellar.
I found Otto and Mike Spicer
coming out of them.
When was this?
Yesterday evening.
I'd been shopping
and I'd just parked the car.
You thought they'd been down here?
Not immediately.
When Bernie told me
about the fake wine labels,
I thought
there might be a connection.
There was some kind of con going on,
wasn't there?
Looks likely.
Was your husband involved in that?
He was worried. I could tell.
But he never confided in me
about business.
I knew he wasn't happy.
Nick Turner. Was he involved?
I think so.
Joyce?
Thank you. Lovely.
I feel bad about Zara, sir.
Standing her up like that,
poor thing.
She'll be gutted.
Yeah, I can imagine.
A shy girl like that.
Low self-esteem.
Must have made her day,
being asked out by you.
Oh, you know, sir.
Spread it around a bit.
But seriously, Mrs Barnaby,
she'll be getting anxious by now.
Thank you.
God, I'm parched!
Locked in a wine cellar
and there's nothing to drink!
Here.
Have you got any idea
what the con was, sir?
I can make an educated guess.
Unfortunately, it doesn't help much
in explaining the murders.
But you think Nick Turner,
with ã150,000 of his clients' money,
you think he was the mark?
Yeah, it looks like that.
Antonia mentioned that Jack had suddenly stopped
looking for the entrance a couple of months ago.
I think he found it.
My guess is,
it was empty.
What about the marks of the cases
in the dust?
I think someone put them there
quite recently.
The wine bottle and the labels
I found in Otto's safe.
He's the one. He's the one
orchestrating all of this.
How he first came up with the idea,
who knows?
Maybe...
when he heard about the cellar
from Jack,
the conman in him thought,
"There's something I might use."
How?
This is just a hypothesis.
We know they got someone
to impersonate Peter Blagdon,
because the man that Jane saw
wasn't the real thing.
My guess is that they installed the fake wine
in the empty cellar.
Probably plonk from the supermarket
with the real labels soaked off.
And the faked ones put on.
Dusted down with... I don't know.
The contents of hoover bags?
To make it look like
no-one had been here for decades.
The whole place dressed to look like
an ancient, forgotten wine cellar,
full of priceless old wine.
All fakes.
Except one.
One, two, three, four.
One, two, three... four.
As a matter of fact, this really is
an old, forgotten wine cellar.
And there's nothing like a little bit of
truth to sell the biggest lies, is there?
So then they just had to prepare
their story,
brief the man
who was going to play Peter Blagdon,
and then sell the con...
to Nick.
I'm there in the middle of
a London drinks party,
and suddenly
I'm talking to Peter Blagdon.
Brother of Anthony.
He's back from Martinique
or something for a funeral.
I asked if he knows about the
cellar that's supposed to be here.
The one I've been looking for.
And he says, calm as you like,
that he's been in it!
With his grandfather, 40 years ago.
After his grandfather had been
to France on a wine-buying trip.
So I ask him,
"Was there anything down there?"
He says, "It was packed."
Packed with vintage wine. Now...
This is strictly between you and me.
Understood?
Yes, of course. Because, strictly speaking,
the contents of the cellar belong to Anthony.
He doesn't know it exists?
Not a clue.
There were some fantastic vintages
around that time.
But then, his grandfather died.
This Peter reckons no-one else knows
of the whereabouts of the cellar.
Anyway, he's obviously
a bit down on his luck.
He said if I was interested, we could come
to some kind of financial arrangement.
Then, they must have met up with
the Peter Blagdon impersonator.
And arranged to take a look.
I need to take one of these
to get some idea of value.
Next step, the genuine expert
at the auctioneer's, whom we know they visited.
Have you got a pen?
We need to take down the names...
A little calculation,
and it looks like the collection's worth
hundreds of thousands of pounds.
Then they move on to the next phase.
Good! I've just been speaking
to Mike Spicer.
He's got a dealer contact that can take
the whole lot, no questions asked.
We're talking... a million plus.
Mike Spicer wants in, of course.
He can raise 50k, no problem.
I can manage 50 as well. Just.
Peter Blagdon's no fool.
He's not going to ask for peanuts.
If you don't want to get involved,
I'll understand. I don't really know what I'm doing.
It's not my normal thing. It's just...
You know? It feels like
a once in a lifetime opportunity.
I'm in.
50k.
Then the Peter Blagdon stand-in
would name his price.
It almost inevitably ups the ante.
Standard con procedure.
Quarter of a million?!
Cheap at the price.
You know what it's worth.
No negotiation.
By this time, Nick's been hooked.
He's probably kept up
on what the wine is worth.
And it all adds up to
a 'can't lose' proposition.
Or so he thinks.
There's no way
I can raise another 100k.
I'll have to speak to Mike.
I can do it.
150 grand.
No problem.
I imagine they just reeled him in.
They got 150 grand.
But what about the wine?
We know wine experts wouldn't
have been fooled by those labels.
They didn't have to fool
the wine experts, Scott. Just Nick.
And then, destroy the wine.
Destroy it? The accident that Nick mentioned
to Jane in the office?
Once they'd taken the money
off Nick,
they had to convince Nick
that the wine was gone.
They couldn't just say
it was stolen.
No. Much simpler
to arrange a little accident
in which all the wine is destroyed.
Come on!
Relax! Jack's not going to lose us.
What the hell's that?
Looks like oil on the
I don't know what happened!
I just lost control!
That's bloody 50 grand!
What do you mean, 50 grand?
I've put in 150.
They had to pretend they were gutted
they'd lost that money.
Chalk it up to a bad experience.
Something like that.
And all the time,
they're up ã150,000.
Minus expenses.
Otto also had the pleasure
of knowing that Nick had taken the
money from his clients' accounts.
Spread rumours about embezzlement so it was discovered.
Nick would be struck off.
Why kill Nick? Why kill him?
They've already taken 150 grand
off him. Why chuck him off a roof?
I told you,
it doesn't explain the murders.
It's half-past two.
Joyce will be having kittens.
You can see how someone desperate
like Nick Turner could fall for it.
It is a neat con. I suppose it's all
about people wanting to believe.
Easy money. Hidden treasure.
Everyone's a sucker. You just choose
the right location or context.
And then you dress it up
convincingly.
She didn't know I was there.
And I heard her laughing and happy
on her mobile to someone.
The same clothing.
There's going to be another murder.
♪ Here's a little song I wrote
♪ You might want to sing it
note for note
♪ Don't worry
♪ Be happy
♪ Don't worry, be happy now
♪ Don't worry ♪
More there. That's it. Go on.
What time is it?
It's eight o'clock.
In the morning?
In the morning.
It's going to take forever.
Try again.
Hello?
Is there somebody there?
Oh, Mr Barnaby, I'm so sorry!
I saw your car outside
Thank you! Look after Antonia.
We'll explain later!
Thank you.
Can you give Joyce a ring, please?
Just want her to know
that everything's all right.
Mrs Barnaby, this is Dan Scott.
Oh, Daniel!
How lovely to hear from you.
Yeah. Mr Barnaby asked me
to let you know everything was OK.
We were unavoidably detained
last night. But now we're...
Yeah.
Yeah.
I'll tell him.
What? What is it?
Mrs Barnaby asked if you could get
a carton of plain yoghurt
on your way home, sir.
You're having curry tonight.
Yes, thank you. Thank you, Scott.
Bullard.
Mr Bullard, this is Dan Scott.
Mr Barnaby wants to know
what make of suit
Nick Turner was wearing
when he died.
What make of suit?
Shoes, as well, please.
To establish where he might have bought them.
No problem. I'll call you. Thank you.
He's on the case, sir.
Mr Spicer!
Hello!
Not what you'd call a spur
of the moment thing, is it, sir?
George.
The suit label is Callum & Co.
The only people I know locally who
would stock them are Brighton Bros.
I rang them,
and yes, they remember the sale.
Nick Turner is a valued customer.
And there was something unusual.
He bought two of everything
and paid in cash, yeah?
Exactly right.
George, got another body for you.
Yes, I heard. I'm on my way.
Thank you.
What's going on, sir?
Hang on, Scott.
Hello?
Sarah, this is DCI Barnaby.
Is Felicity with you?
You just missed her.
Did she say where she was going?
No. But she's not going to Sandford
House. I offered her a lift.
She was with you before she left?
She's been here all morning.
In fact,
she asked me to stay with her.
Alibi.
Excuse me?
I've got to go. Thank you.
I'll be in touch.
Alibi?
Yeah. She made certain of it.
Which suggests to me that she knew
what was going to happen.
Felicity Turner?
She's just left Steve and Sarah's.
I think she's going to see him.
Him?
You think she's got a boyfriend?
Not a boyfriend, Scott.
Not a boyfriend.
Did you notice anything
about that photo Antonia showed us
of them all in the garden?
Nick and Felicity, Antonia and Jack.
Nick and Jack, pretty much
the same build, same hair.
Felicity deliberately identified the body
that fell from the roof as her husband.
But it wasn't. It was Jack Wilmot.
Nick Turner
is still very much alive, Scott.
And he... He's our killer.
You said it, Scott.
We're all suckers at heart.
Dress up something convincingly,
in the right context.
Antonia, his own wife,
she was standing a few feet away.
Didn't recognise
the body of her own husband.
It helped a little
that the body landed head-first.
No!
No, for God's sake!
My guess is,
Nick Turner made sure it did.
So he discovered he'd been conned
and it was all payback.
Mm. Nick and Felicity together.
Somehow, they lured him to the attic
on the morning of the murder.
I'm going to enjoy this!
They dressed him in the identical clothes
that Nick would wear later,
and that he'd made sure Sarah the cleaner
saw him in before he went up to the roof.
Then they tied him up, gagging him in
some way that wouldn't leave any marks.
Later,
he'd have knocked out Jack again.
Wouldn't be easy to see the smaller
injuries under the massive ones
from the fall. Took off the gag.
Manhandle him over the edge and...
Let him drop.
Felicity made sure
she got to the body first,
so she could cradle the head in a way that
meant no-one else could see it properly.
Just in case.
Simple but effective. You can't be
charged with murder if you're dead.
And you think she's gone to meet him.
Yeah. The question is, where?
It turned out the only remaining asset the
parents had was their house in Causton.
Look, it wasn't my idea!
I swear!
That's the wrong answer, Mike.
Please!
A little claret!
Are you getting the raspberries,
Mike?
Oh, and er...
It might be worth your trying
to answer this next one correctly.
For another minute or two of your
worthless conman existence.
What makes you think you have the right
to destroy other people's lives, Mike?
I'm going to have to hurry you.
You can go to hell!
You'll be getting there
ahead of me.
Get a couple of men round the back,
quietly. Keep the rest out front.
They wouldn't have done a runner?
No.
Felicity's got to collect
the life insurance.
The gurgling!
I was just so amazed
by how much he managed to drink!
It must have been
a bottle and a half!
I just wish we'd videoed Otto.
I'd really like to see
that one again.
We can't risk seeing each other
until the money comes through.
It could be months.
Excuse me.
You won't see each other
for much longer than that.
Officers are outside
if you're thinking of running.
Wrists together.
Imagine the station
not noticing we were missing, sir.
Still, it's one thing
for your colleagues not to realise,
but for your own wife not to realise
you hadn't spent the night with her,
that must hurt a bit.
You might be hurting a little bit
too, Scott, once Zara has finished with you.
I don't think that girl is as meek
as you think she is.
Oh, no. She's a shy one, sir.
You can tell.
Anyway, being locked in a cellar
all night by a triple murderer
is a better excuse than saying the car broke
down and there was no signal on the mobile.
Zara -
I'm sorry about last night.
The car broke down.
I was there for hours.
I did try my mobile.
But I couldn't get a signal.
It was just...
That's OK. No worries. It's fine.
I've got a friend
that might like to go out with you.
Really?
Thanks, anyway.
She'll take a long time to recover,
Scott.
No question.
Well...
I must be off.
Don't forget the yoghurt, sir.
Oh, it's you.
Cheeky sod! Who else would it be?
I have my admirers.
In your dreams you do. Anyway,
get a move on. I want to do that
shopping on the way back.
How's it going inside?
Mr Turner hasn't got up yet.
Mrs Turner's downstairs
taking coffee with Mrs Wilmot.
They're just rushed off their feet!
Has Nick discussed it with Jack,
do you know?
He hasn't mentioned anything.
It was financial, I know that.
I just wish he'd talk to me!
And he always used to get up early.
First into the office, last out!
He had enthusiasm.
And they used to get on so well.
The mood has changed.
You're reading too much into it.
He definitely hasn't said anything
to you?
My husband never confides in me
about financial matters.
No! No, for God's sake!
Oh!
No, don't!
I'm sorry about this, Joyce.
Save a bit for me to do,
won't you?
Perfect timing. As usual.
These things are beyond my control.
You know that.
You missed a bit.
You will be able to manage
the dinner-dance at Fallowfields
on Friday night?
Nothing is certain, Joyce.
But I see no problem.
What have we got?
Good question, sir.
The victim is Nicholas Turner.
A local solicitor.
Took a stroll off his roof.
The gardener, Steve Hope,
says he heard someone calling out
for help just before it happened.
He says he thinks it sounded like
the victim. That's him.
Morning, George.
Tom.
Bit of a bad landing, this one.
Initial impression
as to cause of death:
catastrophic head
and spinal injuries.
Quite a snappy dresser.
OK, thank you.
That's the downstairs neighbour.
She saw the body hit the deck.
She was having coffee with the wife
Felicity Turner.
Where's she? Where's the wife?
Upstairs. The cleaning lady's
looking after her.
This is Steve Hope.
Steve, this is
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.
Steve.
Are you OK?
I understand you heard some shouts
just before it happened.
Is that right?
I was working
on this side of the house.
Couldn't see anything, but yeah.
Upstairs...
Tell me exactly. What did you hear?
Shouting.
I'm pretty sure it was Nick.
"No! For God's sake!"
Something like that.
And then there was this yell.
I ran round
to this side of the house
and saw Felicity with... Nick's body.
I called the police.
Tried to comfort her.
Who else was here?
Antonia. That's Mrs Wilmot.
She was by the window.
Pretty shaken up.
Other than that, my partner, Sarah.
We're sort of a team. She does
the cleaning. I do the gardening.
There was no-one else? No callers?
Got a few scuff marks here, sir.
Could have been a struggle.
Question is, what would anyone be
doing up here in the first place?
Is there someone you can stay with,
Mrs Turner?
You could always stay at our cottage
if you... You know.
That's very kind.
Thank you.
It's not suicide!
It's definitely not!
He wouldn't do that.
He just wouldn't do that!
I've tried to get her to change out
of that dress, but she's in a daze.
Um... And you are the cleaner for?
I do the Wilmots, downstairs.
The two floors.
And the Turners up here.
When did you last see
Mr Turner alive?
It was just before it happened.
Just minutes, literally.
I was down there, dusting.
I saw him come out of the apartment
and go up the stairs.
Did it strike you as curious that
he was on his way toward the roof?
He's been behaving a bit odd lately.
Depressed. Not getting up till late.
I have seen him on the roof,
staring off into the distance.
So it wasn't that odd.
Did he seem stressed
the last time you saw him?
Not really.
OK. Thank you.
Get back to Mrs Turner.
Why did you ask if he was stressed,
sir?
If Mr Turner wanted to make it
not appear like a suicide,
he may have tried to appear upbeat
in his general demeanor.
Anyway,
we need to check his life cover.
And get his bank details.
The Shires Bank. Causton branch.
I saw the chequebook
in the apartment, sir.
Mrs Wilmot, this is
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.
Come in.
And you were actually talking to
Felicity Turner when it happened?
Yes.
What were you talking about?
Well, Nick.
And my husband, Jack.
Yes?
She was a bit worried that er...
That they might have fallen out.
She probably told you.
No. Fallen out? What about?
My husband works in the City.
I have a feeling he may have given
Nick some financial advice
that didn't work out too well.
And Felicity was worried about that?
Were there financial problems?
She seemed to think so.
Hm. Well, we'll need to talk
to your husband.
I'm afraid he's at work
at the moment. I could call him.
What time does he get home?
He tends to leave early
and get back early.
Avoid the rush.
Should be home about 6:30.
Please, come in, come in.
Thank you.
I have to tell you, Mr Perkins,
that one of your customers
died today in suspicious
circumstances. Nicholas Turner.
A local solicitor.
Dear, oh, dear.
Dear, oh, dear!
I actually knew him quite well.
He's the occasional member of a pub
quiz team I sometimes play for.
Can I ask what these circumstances
were of the...
Death. Yes, you can.
It was a fatal fall.
And when you say
you're treating it as suspicious,
does that mean
there's no question of it being...
self-inflicted?
You mean suicide?
We're keeping an open mind on that
at this stage.
We need to ask
what his financial situation was.
In many ways,
he was an exemplary customer.
In many ways. But...
This is in confidence?
Of course.
He had the misfortune of having
parents-in-law who suffered greatly
with their health
towards the end of their lives.
Well, it was unfortunate for them,
of course, as well.
But Nicholas insisted on giving them
the best healthcare available.
And you know how expensive
that can be.
A very generous man.
No expense spared.
They lingered.
Mr Turner was in debt?
House mortgaged to the limit,
I'm afraid.
Overdraft - not a huge one,
but big enough.
Oh, dear.
Was he left anything?
Sadly, no.
It turned out the only
remaining asset the parents had
was their house in Causton.
I'm afraid
that too had been remortgaged.
Had he any enemies?
Do you know Otto Benham?
The local historian.
Expert on Roman Britain.
Yes, I do.
He's a solicitor too, isn't he?
That's him.
I had heard Otto had been
casting a few aspersions
on Nicholas's professionalism.
Nicholas had taken
a few clients off Otto.
One or two highly-valued clients.
So...
Nick wasn't just a business partner.
He was also a good friend.
Hm. Mr Martin, we need to ask you
some questions
which may appear a little um...
insensitive at this time.
Oh... Thank you, Margaret.
We've heard
there's a rumour going round
that Mr Turner may have been dipping
into your clients' accounts.
Could there be any truth in that?
Absolutely not!
We'd like you to look into
those accounts to make certain.
Are you all right?
I'm sorry. Yes. Come in.
Jack isn't actually back yet.
But I'm sure he'll be back
any moment.
You spoke to him at work?
Told him we wanted to talk to him?
No. I didn't, actually.
Um...
He wasn't in the office today.
Well, was he out on business?
They don't actually know
where he is.
Which is er...
But he'll be back.
I know he'll be back.
It's quiz night at the Crown.
He never misses quiz night.
The next question's
the last in this round.
What is the longest river in India?
- Indus.
- Ohhh!
Make that Russia.
Blame him!
We'll recommence in ten minutes.
Hello, Tom.
Viv.
You want to keep your friend
under control. He'll get lynched.
That would be
justifiable homicide!
Viv, have you seen Jack Wilmot
this evening?
I doubt he'll be in. His neighbour
died. Is that why you're here?
You don't know where he is?
Ask one of the Chateau Lafites.
The what?
The name of his quiz team.
I think I know that one.
You know the face and the glasses.
Local celebrity and former
TV quiz show host, Mike Spicer.
Bloody hell, he was awful!
The fellow with him is Otto Benham.
The one who was peddling the rumours
about Nick Turner?
Yes?
I'm Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby. And this is DS Scott.
We were wondering if either of you
could tell us where Jack Wilmot is.
I know he's let us down. A whole
bloody round of football questions.
He's our sports expert.
Or at least, he's supposed to be.
Probably staying at home.
Some misguided attempt
at respect for the dead.
He neighbour managed to fall off
his roof and kill himself today.
We're keeping an open mind
as to whether or not Mr Turner
fell off the roof all on his own.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Are you treating
Jack as a suspect, Inspector?
He's not at home.
Wife doesn't know where he is.
Did he take the car?
No. Apparently, he walks
to the station in the morning.
On another matter,
we've been told that someone
has been putting rumours about
that Mr Turner was dipping into
his clients' accounts.
Nothing to do with me, guv!
Have you heard the rumours?
Of course.
Never trust your money
to a man who pays his bills late.
Or drinks low-alcohol lager!
It's not growing on me. Is it you?
Thank you for your time, gentlemen.
Spot the charm school graduates!
Perkins from the bank's here.
I think he's worth another word.
The barmaid might be worth
talking to as well, sir.
She looks like
one of life's observers.
She might have seen something.
OK, see what you can get.
Mr Perkins, we meet again, sir.
Please.
Thank you.
Do you think Otto
had anything to do with what
happened at Sandford House today?
This is George.
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.
Why are you asking?
Otto Benham didn't get where he is
by keeping to the rules.
We had a minute's silence earlier,
for Nick.
They just carried on
sipping their wine. Both of them.
Arrogant so-and-so's.
Everybody else comes down here
for a laugh.
Talk about competitive! That lot
take the quiz very seriously.
That means they win. A lot.
Otto can't stand losing at anything.
Quiz night or anything.
Cheers, Jane.
Your team-mate
seems a bit under the weather.
Jane knew Nick Turner quite well.
She used to work for him.
How well did she know him?
Quite well.
Thank you. Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby, Jane Hampton.
How do you do?
I understand
you knew Nick Turner quite well.
Yes, I did.
We're starting the next round in a
few minutes, so get your drinks in.
I'd like to have a chat with you,
if that's all right.
Background on Nick.
Where can we reach you?
I live at the Lodge,
at the entrance to Sandford House.
We'll be in touch. Thank you.
Excuse.
It's not a good time
to talk to Zara, sir.
I'll have to pick my moment.
Zara?
What?
Jack's just not the sort of person
who goes off.
All I'm saying is it's weird.
Very weird.
Especially in light of all the...
I know you, don't I?
You're on the telly.
Well, just um...
some trivial little game show.
Mike Spicer's Ga-aaame Of Your Life?
Oh, that was awful.
Just through the gates.
You can pull up by the chariot.
I'll give you a ring tomorrow.
Mr Spicer will pay you.
Any news?
Otto?
About Nick Turner?
Apparently, Jack's disappeared.
Have you heard anything?
Just get some sleep, dear.
You NEED your sleep.
Antonia! What is it?
Is something wrong?
I baked you a loaf.
It's a bit early, isn't it?
What time is it?
Is Jack not back?
No.
There were some letters for Felicity
in the box.
I wondered if you wouldn't mind...
She's staying at the Hopes'.
It's a bit awkward for me,
going up there.
Of course.
There's no word from Wilmot's wife,
sir. No messages.
We have to assume
Jack Wilmot's still missing.
Which makes him our chief suspect.
Maybe Felicity Turner
had a boyfriend.
Two birds with one stone job.
Get rid of the husband
and land the insurance money.
That's possible.
Unless, of course,
Jack Wilmot is dead as well.
Any sign of your husband?
No.
We were coming to see you.
Have you got a recent photograph
of Jack?
I'm just on my way back now.
Do you want a lift?
Mr Barnaby,
do you think, at some stage, I could
have a few minutes of your time?
I'll walk back
and look something out.
It's just that something happened
when I was working for Nick.
Something he asked me not to mention
to anyone.
But I was wondering if, in the
circumstances, it might be relevant.
A man named Peter Blagdon contacted
him and they had a meeting.
That's a familiar name.
You may be thinking of
Anthony Blagdon, his brother.
Yes, he used to own Sandford House.
He still owns the freehold. No-one
sees him. The agents handle it all.
What was this meeting
with Peter about?
I don't know.
It was away from the office.
But I saw him.
A nondescript little man.
And I had the distinct feeling
something...
something shady was going on.
And then a couple of weeks later,
Nick came back into the office
one afternoon, looking terrible.
He said there'd been an accident.
I asked if anyone had been hurt,
and he said, with a weird look
in his eyes, "You could say that."
I'd never seen him like that before.
What did he mean?
He wouldn't say.
He changed the subject.
But it was about that time
he became depressed.
And sort of...
I don't know. Spiky and withdrawn.
And your relationship
with Mr Turner,
that was... purely professional?
We were friends.
I don't know what you've heard.
But there was nothing
more than that.
What about Felicity, the wife? Did
she have anything? With anybody?
Like who?
Jack Wilmot, for example.
Jack's a flirt with everyone.
We've all put up with it.
OK, perhaps he was a bit more
persistent with Felicity,
but that's only because she was
too polite to tell him to get lost.
What is it they say?
Boys and their toys?
Apparently, they're all
very accurate reproductions.
Otto has his own private museum.
He can spend whole days
in there sometimes.
Which seems to suit us both
quite well.
Not across the lawn!
How many times
do I have to tell you?!
I wouldn't mind if she could
pad across on her own two feet,
in flat-soled shoes, but I have to
play croquet on this rutted surface.
He's all yours.
You found Jack yet?
No. No, we haven't.
But a name has come up.
And I know that your knowledge of
local families is pretty extensive.
Do you know a Peter Blagdon?
Peter. I know Anthony.
Peter's his wayward brother,
isn't he?
Lives abroad somewhere.
But you've never met him.
No.
I also have to ask you
where you were yesterday at midday.
Ah!
I was at my office.
As everyone there can testify.
You're welcome to ask them.
Does the delicious Jane Hampton
have an alibi?
You were talking to her last night.
Yes. Why do you ask?
You know she was in love with him?
With Nick Turner. And we all know
how quickly love can turn to hate.
That's why she left Turner & Martin.
Couldn't bear being so close to him
and not being able
to show her true feelings.
Why do you say that?
Oh, everyone could see it!
Apart, of course, from the idiot
Turner himself. He had no idea.
Why she fell for him...
She used to have a high-powered job
in the City, you know.
Couldn't cut the mustard.
Had a nervous breakdown.
That's probably why
she was so attracted to Nick Turner.
The human equivalent
of a comfort blanket!
Huh!
A rather wet one, at that!
I think you'll find her
on the bench at the end there.
Thanks, Sarah.
I know!
I'll call you.
Felicity!
Hi.
I thought I'd bring up the post.
Antonia asked me to pass them on.
Thank you.
Is there any news on Jack?
He still hasn't appeared.
And are the police treating him
as a suspect?
The Princess of Wales
descends the staircase,
looking absolutely radiant.
She pauses, speaks to one of the
ladies who work here at the theater.
She meets Raymond Voss, the manager.
He introduces her
to the assembled celebrities.
There, the Princess shares a joke
with one of the cast, Mike Spicer.
The entertainer shakes hands
with Her Royal Highness.
She's never in too much of a hurry
for a word of encouragement
or to offer advice.
Mike Spicer, there.
Mike Spicer!
I've had Barnaby round here,
asking if I know Peter Blagdon.
How the hell
does he know about that?
I don't think he does.
He's just fishing.
So when he mentions Peter Blagdon
to you, don't react.
You've never met him.
Understood?
Oh, my God!
No, just be calm. It will be fine.
He's probably on his way over
to you now. Stay calm.
Yeah. Yep.
Jack and me with Felicity and Nick.
That was a lovely day.
Have you got a larger one of Jack?
Alone?
That's a good likeness.
Can we take this one?
Is there something wrong?
No, no. It's nothing.
You'll think I'm completely barmy.
Try me.
I keep thinking
I'm hearing these noises.
As if...
It's rather a difficult one
to explain.
When we first moved here,
Jack heard stories at the pub
about there being an old wine cellar
that was supposed to be
under the house.
He became a bit obsessed by it.
Trying to find the entrance.
Anyway, he...
He suddenly stopped looking.
It was odd.
Do you think he found it?
I had a nightmare, last night,
that he was locked in.
He was trying to communicate with me
somehow.
Trying to get me
to find the entrance.
And now I keep hearing these noises.
Who would have locked him in?
I'm just being silly.
There's no-one.
We'll be in touch
if we hear anything.
And you'll contact us
if he calls you, yes?
There is just one more thing.
Do you know a Peter Blagdon?
Anthony Blagdon's brother?
Yeah.
I've heard of him vaguely but...
You might try the agents.
They handle everything for Anthony.
Morgan & Associates.
OK, thank you.
I'm afraid I can't really help you.
Peter moved abroad
shortly after Anthony's wedding.
There was some sort of scandal
in all the tabloids at the time.
And I really have no idea
whether he's been back since.
The older brother's contact details?
Anthony won't be able to help.
Well, I do need them.
I know for a fact
they haven't spoken in ten years.
No idea whether he's alive or dead.
Cares less.
Please.
I'm afraid I was here...
...alone at the time.
So there's no-one to corroborate it.
Hm. So, no Mrs Spicer?
Ha!
Several.
And all of them
are far better off than me.
Everything I earn these days
hardly touches the sides
before it wings its way
into their accounts.
The ladies, eh?
Where would we be without them?
So we're not married at the moment?
Oh, I think I've learnt
that particular lesson, Inspector.
My last wife
ran off with the plumber.
Can you believe it?
I was BAFTA-nominated,
for God's sake!
Or very nearly.
Do you know Peter Blagdon?
Mm... Blagdon.
Blagdon.
Isn't he that landowner chap?
You're thinking of Anthony.
This is Peter Blagdon.
Am I? Oh, right. Yes.
Er... Peter.
Nope.
Nah.
Don't ring any bells.
What have you got there?
Peter Blagdon's
proving a bit evasive, sir.
He fell out with his brother,
Anthony, big time.
After he got caught on the job
with Anthony's wife
at Anthony's wedding reception!
No-one knows where he is. But I've
been on to a contact at a tabloid.
He dug around in the archives
and came up with this.
That's ten years out of date,
but that is Peter Blagdon.
Are you sure?
Yeah.
We've got a few other pictures,
but that's the best one.
You can see why I'm confused,
can't you?
You described the man you saw
as being small, nondescript.
This is not the Peter Blagdon
who was with Nick Turner.
Ah.
Causton police.
Mr Martin.
Mr Barnaby, might I have a word?
You asked me
to check through the accounts.
Ah.
And?
There is some money missing
from the clients' accounts.
How much?
Ã150,000.
Ah.
Antonia.
Just the person we're looking for.
What are you doing?
We're looking for you, my dear.
I think I just said that.
Where's Jack?
I don't know where Jack is.
No, no.
I know that's the... official line.
But you can tell us.
You can tell us, Antonia.
I wouldn't tell you anything.
Ever!
I know you're behind this.
I know.
Just go away!
Some say the story's rubbish.
Some say it's genuine.
And you? Do you think there's a
secret cellar under Sandford House?
I'm in the 'don't know,
haven't a clue' camp. That's me.
I know someone
who's been down there.
Charlie Rice. He swore it was true.
And he never spun a line!
Who's Charlie Rice?
Dead now. He was an old boy.
Eighties. Vivid imagination.
No-one else has claimed
to have been there.
OK. Thank you.
Scott.
Sir?
Any luck with Zara?
She's a bit nervous talking here,
sir.
I thought I'd ask her out for
a Chinese. Get the setting right.
Somebody's nicked
the white line machine!
Mr Barnaby.
Hello, Steve.
I've just come from the pavilion.
I went to mark the pitch,
but the line machine's gone!
Could have borrowed it
if they'd asked.
You must report it, Steve.
Yeah, well... Maybe it'll turn up.
Steve, we've just been talking about
that rumour
of a cellar under Sandford House. Do
you think there's any truth in that?
It's not impossible.
It's not likely.
Ah.
Do you think I could have a word?
It's just...
You know I told you,
when I was working on the bench,
how I didn't have a view of the roof
at the time?
Well, I don't know
if it means anything.
But it was Felicity,
Mrs Turner, who asked me to work
there on the bench at that time.
Are you trying to tell us
something here?
No, no.
No. It's just...
I normally decide for myself
where I'm going to work.
No-one tells me, normally.
Oh!
What is it you want?
Money? Is that what you want?
Oh, my God!
Not my mouth! No!
I have asthma!
Oh, no! Please!
What's going on?
Who are you?
Is this some kind of joke?
What is this?
What are you doing?
I order you to stop! Do you hear me?
Right! That is it!
My God!
It's a '78 Margeaux!
You bloody maniac!
Bernie! Is that you?
What are you doing?
For God's sake, call the police!
Bernie!
You're in a bit of a pickle,
aren't you?
Oh, you stupid woman!
Do something!
Call the police! Do you hear me?!
Can I suggest
about five degrees to the left?
No!
The postman that found the body
removed some of the glass,
looking for vital signs.
There were none.
Do you think
someone was making a point?
Several.
We'll be able to give Steve
his white-liner back, anyway.
Someone's gone to a great deal
of trouble over this.
Ah! Mr Barnaby. Come in.
Cup of coffee?
No. No, thank you.
This is DS Scott.
May we express our sincere
condolences for your loss.
Thank you very much.
We understand you were positioned
at an upstairs window
when the postman found you.
Yes, that's right. I saw it all.
It was absolutely ghastly. Terrible.
Can you describe the intruder?
Well, he was... wearing black.
Black balaclava.
Quite tall, I suppose.
Other than that...
It was quite a show.
Er, Mrs Benham,
we have to ask this question.
Who inherits your husband's estate?
I do.
I think I do.
Otto! Otto!
Oh, God, it's Mike Spicer. You
couldn't deal with him, could you?
I don't think
I could face him just now.
I'm sorry, sir.
He's my friend!
Mr Spicer.
Thank you, Paul.
Mr Spicer.
Mocking him in death.
This is a revenge killing.
Yes, indeed.
We are wondering
what it's in revenge for.
How the hell should I know?
What are you suggesting?
Can you tell us where you were
last night at 12 o'clock?
At home in bed! Why?
Where the hell do you think I was?!
It's as I thought.
I knew my husband wouldn't want
his wife to be seen to go without.
Did you get rid of him?
Yes. We'll talk to Mr Spicer later.
Is this stuff from the safe?
Chateau Latour 1961.
I take it that was a good year.
Who'd bother faking a bad one?
They're obviously fakes. Must be.
It's one of Otto's scams.
Sir.
There's some more wine labels,
as well.
Latour '59.
Petrus '61.
A Margeaux. Something called a Haut
Brion? I think that's expensive.
What sort of scam?
It's no use asking me.
I kept well out of his doings.
But something's iffy. You can
count on that.
Mrs Benham, do you think there was any significance
of them putting you by the window like that,
so you could witness
what was happening?
Yes, I think there probably was.
I've always been aware
of what a shyster Otto was.
But I decided early on
to turn a blind eye.
I've always been very keen
on comfort.
Status.
Couldn't really live a life
without it.
I imagine, whoever it was,
thought that witnessing my husband's
death would be a form of punishment.
But you see,
I'd had my punishment already.
No, I don't mean
the riding accident.
I mean living with the man.
Sharing his appalling life.
Quite punishment enough.
I suppose I did feel a twinge of pity in his
last shuddering squelps of agony. But...
...not a great deal.
I want you to take the wine
and the labels
to the auctioneer's in Causton.
See what their experts make of them.
Antonia!
I'm so sorry, Bernie.
You must feel awful.
Mixed feelings, really.
How are you? Any word from Jack?
No.
Nothing.
Come and have a cup of tea.
Or maybe something stronger.
Do they know who did it?
Spoiled for choice in the
'enemies of Otto' department!
Bernie...
I'm sorry to ask.
At a time like this,
it must seem really selfish,
when you've just lost your husband
and everything, but... I'm desperate.
What is it, my dear?
What happened to Otto, it's...
It's made me think.
You see...
I've been suspecting that Jack was
involved with Otto in some kind of...
Oh, excuse me for saying this,
but...
Some kind of dodgy deal.
Oh, please. If it involved Otto,
it almost invariably was.
We've just found a collection
of faked wine labels in the safe.
If that isn't a dodgy deal, I don't
know what is! I'd offer champagne
if there was any left. But
I rather think it's all on the lawn!
Ah, no! There is a bottle left!
Bit of bubbly, my dear?
Otto Benham?
When did it happen?
About midnight, last night.
I have to ask you this.
Were you both here last night?
Yes.
Yes.
Mrs Turner, did your husband ever mention
an old wine cellar under Sandford House?
He... He may have done.
I think it was more Jack
who went on about that. Um...
It was just an odd story.
And you?
Do you know anything about it?
Not really. Local rumour.
I've never paid much attention.
A case of the Petrus '61
went for $90,000, apparently.
Six bottles of Mouton Rothschild
for $70,000.
But they both had a very good... provenance.
That's like a pedigree, sir.
Still, the auctioneer reckons that a full
bottle of clear, good quality wine like this,
even without the provenance, would cost
at least a grand a bottle.
We're talking big money
if all of these were genuine.
But...
The auctioneer says
these aren't even very good fakes.
Any expert could spot them.
And the really interesting thing is
that this bottle, a genuine Latour '61,
was brought in for valuation
a month ago.
That actual bottle.
Yeah.
The auctioneer says he recognised
the stain on the label.
It was brought in by two men. They were very
impressed when they found out its value.
One of them had a flamboyant
handkerchief in his breast pocket.
And they had a list of other vintage
wines they wanted prices for.
Exactly the same wines
as these fake wine labels.
He offered to get back to them
with more information.
But they seemed strangely reluctant
to give contact details.
Descriptions?
Both six foot and thirtyish.
Nick Turner and Jack Wilmot?
DCI Barnaby.
DS Scott.
Slow down! Start again, please.
Did she say what it was about?
We'll be right...
We'll be right -
Over.
There.
You first.
Jane Hampton is here. Wants to talk.
We'll see her on the way.
That was Antonia.
She reckons she's found
the entrance to the cellar.
Hello, there.
I'm afraid we're just on our way out.
I'm sorry. It won't take a moment.
I don't know if I should be saying
this. It feels a bit awkward.
I went to see Felicity at Sarah
and Steve's to give her some post.
And...
Well, she was in the garden
and didn't know I was there.
I heard her, laughing and happy,
on her mobile to someone.
When she finished her call and saw me,
she was the sad, grieving widow again.
It just seemed...
That's all it was. It was probably
nothing but I thought...
No, no. You were right to tell us.
It's down there.
The door on the right.
I don't remember a padlock
being on there before.
Here. Someone's cleared a path
through here.
This is what I saw.
I thought I'd better call you.
I wasn't sure what I might find.
Quite a lot of footprints.
They look recent.
Here.
What about this?
Wine cases. They've been
standing there for several years.
Or it's been made to look that way.
That's handy.
"This is DCI Barnaby. Please leave
a message after the tone."
It's me. I know you haven't
forgotten the Fallowfields do.
Cab's picking us up at half-past seven.
Just to remind you. See you soon.
He's left the key in the lock.
Have you got a signal?
No.
There's not enough gap
underneath the door to get at it
even if we managed
to push it through.
Our only chance, Scott, is digging
through the door frame. Here, look.
Right.
Jack's dead.
I'm sorry?
If he's not down here,
he's dead.
I know it. I just know it.
Why do you say that?
He didn't kill Nick.
He wouldn't kill anyone.
And he wouldn't just disappear!
Someone killed Nick. And Otto.
And they've killed Jack, as well.
Who? Who'd kill your husband?
I don't know! I'm just saying!
You thought that the cellar was
under the house, didn't you, before?
What made you, all of a sudden, look
for the entrance in the outbuildings?
How goes it?
The damp's softened the wood a bit.
It's still going to take a while.
Are you supposed to be somewhere,
sir?
Yes.
I'm supposed to be taking Zara out
for a Chinese.
Could have picked a better time
to be locked in a secret cellar.
Are we going to get out of here
before the air runs out?
Before we all die of thirst?
Of course.
I wouldn't be so sure.
It's going a bit slower
than I thought, sir.
We'll get out. Don't you worry.
You asked me why I decided to look
in the outbuildings for the cellar.
I found Otto and Mike Spicer
coming out of them.
When was this?
Yesterday evening.
I'd been shopping
and I'd just parked the car.
You thought they'd been down here?
Not immediately.
When Bernie told me
about the fake wine labels,
I thought
there might be a connection.
There was some kind of con going on,
wasn't there?
Looks likely.
Was your husband involved in that?
He was worried. I could tell.
But he never confided in me
about business.
I knew he wasn't happy.
Nick Turner. Was he involved?
I think so.
Joyce?
Thank you. Lovely.
I feel bad about Zara, sir.
Standing her up like that,
poor thing.
She'll be gutted.
Yeah, I can imagine.
A shy girl like that.
Low self-esteem.
Must have made her day,
being asked out by you.
Oh, you know, sir.
Spread it around a bit.
But seriously, Mrs Barnaby,
she'll be getting anxious by now.
Thank you.
God, I'm parched!
Locked in a wine cellar
and there's nothing to drink!
Here.
Have you got any idea
what the con was, sir?
I can make an educated guess.
Unfortunately, it doesn't help much
in explaining the murders.
But you think Nick Turner,
with ã150,000 of his clients' money,
you think he was the mark?
Yeah, it looks like that.
Antonia mentioned that Jack had suddenly stopped
looking for the entrance a couple of months ago.
I think he found it.
My guess is,
it was empty.
What about the marks of the cases
in the dust?
I think someone put them there
quite recently.
The wine bottle and the labels
I found in Otto's safe.
He's the one. He's the one
orchestrating all of this.
How he first came up with the idea,
who knows?
Maybe...
when he heard about the cellar
from Jack,
the conman in him thought,
"There's something I might use."
How?
This is just a hypothesis.
We know they got someone
to impersonate Peter Blagdon,
because the man that Jane saw
wasn't the real thing.
My guess is that they installed the fake wine
in the empty cellar.
Probably plonk from the supermarket
with the real labels soaked off.
And the faked ones put on.
Dusted down with... I don't know.
The contents of hoover bags?
To make it look like
no-one had been here for decades.
The whole place dressed to look like
an ancient, forgotten wine cellar,
full of priceless old wine.
All fakes.
Except one.
One, two, three, four.
One, two, three... four.
As a matter of fact, this really is
an old, forgotten wine cellar.
And there's nothing like a little bit of
truth to sell the biggest lies, is there?
So then they just had to prepare
their story,
brief the man
who was going to play Peter Blagdon,
and then sell the con...
to Nick.
I'm there in the middle of
a London drinks party,
and suddenly
I'm talking to Peter Blagdon.
Brother of Anthony.
He's back from Martinique
or something for a funeral.
I asked if he knows about the
cellar that's supposed to be here.
The one I've been looking for.
And he says, calm as you like,
that he's been in it!
With his grandfather, 40 years ago.
After his grandfather had been
to France on a wine-buying trip.
So I ask him,
"Was there anything down there?"
He says, "It was packed."
Packed with vintage wine. Now...
This is strictly between you and me.
Understood?
Yes, of course. Because, strictly speaking,
the contents of the cellar belong to Anthony.
He doesn't know it exists?
Not a clue.
There were some fantastic vintages
around that time.
But then, his grandfather died.
This Peter reckons no-one else knows
of the whereabouts of the cellar.
Anyway, he's obviously
a bit down on his luck.
He said if I was interested, we could come
to some kind of financial arrangement.
Then, they must have met up with
the Peter Blagdon impersonator.
And arranged to take a look.
I need to take one of these
to get some idea of value.
Next step, the genuine expert
at the auctioneer's, whom we know they visited.
Have you got a pen?
We need to take down the names...
A little calculation,
and it looks like the collection's worth
hundreds of thousands of pounds.
Then they move on to the next phase.
Good! I've just been speaking
to Mike Spicer.
He's got a dealer contact that can take
the whole lot, no questions asked.
We're talking... a million plus.
Mike Spicer wants in, of course.
He can raise 50k, no problem.
I can manage 50 as well. Just.
Peter Blagdon's no fool.
He's not going to ask for peanuts.
If you don't want to get involved,
I'll understand. I don't really know what I'm doing.
It's not my normal thing. It's just...
You know? It feels like
a once in a lifetime opportunity.
I'm in.
50k.
Then the Peter Blagdon stand-in
would name his price.
It almost inevitably ups the ante.
Standard con procedure.
Quarter of a million?!
Cheap at the price.
You know what it's worth.
No negotiation.
By this time, Nick's been hooked.
He's probably kept up
on what the wine is worth.
And it all adds up to
a 'can't lose' proposition.
Or so he thinks.
There's no way
I can raise another 100k.
I'll have to speak to Mike.
I can do it.
150 grand.
No problem.
I imagine they just reeled him in.
They got 150 grand.
But what about the wine?
We know wine experts wouldn't
have been fooled by those labels.
They didn't have to fool
the wine experts, Scott. Just Nick.
And then, destroy the wine.
Destroy it? The accident that Nick mentioned
to Jane in the office?
Once they'd taken the money
off Nick,
they had to convince Nick
that the wine was gone.
They couldn't just say
it was stolen.
No. Much simpler
to arrange a little accident
in which all the wine is destroyed.
Come on!
Relax! Jack's not going to lose us.
What the hell's that?
Looks like oil on the
I don't know what happened!
I just lost control!
That's bloody 50 grand!
What do you mean, 50 grand?
I've put in 150.
They had to pretend they were gutted
they'd lost that money.
Chalk it up to a bad experience.
Something like that.
And all the time,
they're up ã150,000.
Minus expenses.
Otto also had the pleasure
of knowing that Nick had taken the
money from his clients' accounts.
Spread rumours about embezzlement so it was discovered.
Nick would be struck off.
Why kill Nick? Why kill him?
They've already taken 150 grand
off him. Why chuck him off a roof?
I told you,
it doesn't explain the murders.
It's half-past two.
Joyce will be having kittens.
You can see how someone desperate
like Nick Turner could fall for it.
It is a neat con. I suppose it's all
about people wanting to believe.
Easy money. Hidden treasure.
Everyone's a sucker. You just choose
the right location or context.
And then you dress it up
convincingly.
She didn't know I was there.
And I heard her laughing and happy
on her mobile to someone.
The same clothing.
There's going to be another murder.
♪ Here's a little song I wrote
♪ You might want to sing it
note for note
♪ Don't worry
♪ Be happy
♪ Don't worry, be happy now
♪ Don't worry ♪
More there. That's it. Go on.
What time is it?
It's eight o'clock.
In the morning?
In the morning.
It's going to take forever.
Try again.
Hello?
Is there somebody there?
Oh, Mr Barnaby, I'm so sorry!
I saw your car outside
Thank you! Look after Antonia.
We'll explain later!
Thank you.
Can you give Joyce a ring, please?
Just want her to know
that everything's all right.
Mrs Barnaby, this is Dan Scott.
Oh, Daniel!
How lovely to hear from you.
Yeah. Mr Barnaby asked me
to let you know everything was OK.
We were unavoidably detained
last night. But now we're...
Yeah.
Yeah.
I'll tell him.
What? What is it?
Mrs Barnaby asked if you could get
a carton of plain yoghurt
on your way home, sir.
You're having curry tonight.
Yes, thank you. Thank you, Scott.
Bullard.
Mr Bullard, this is Dan Scott.
Mr Barnaby wants to know
what make of suit
Nick Turner was wearing
when he died.
What make of suit?
Shoes, as well, please.
To establish where he might have bought them.
No problem. I'll call you. Thank you.
He's on the case, sir.
Mr Spicer!
Hello!
Not what you'd call a spur
of the moment thing, is it, sir?
George.
The suit label is Callum & Co.
The only people I know locally who
would stock them are Brighton Bros.
I rang them,
and yes, they remember the sale.
Nick Turner is a valued customer.
And there was something unusual.
He bought two of everything
and paid in cash, yeah?
Exactly right.
George, got another body for you.
Yes, I heard. I'm on my way.
Thank you.
What's going on, sir?
Hang on, Scott.
Hello?
Sarah, this is DCI Barnaby.
Is Felicity with you?
You just missed her.
Did she say where she was going?
No. But she's not going to Sandford
House. I offered her a lift.
She was with you before she left?
She's been here all morning.
In fact,
she asked me to stay with her.
Alibi.
Excuse me?
I've got to go. Thank you.
I'll be in touch.
Alibi?
Yeah. She made certain of it.
Which suggests to me that she knew
what was going to happen.
Felicity Turner?
She's just left Steve and Sarah's.
I think she's going to see him.
Him?
You think she's got a boyfriend?
Not a boyfriend, Scott.
Not a boyfriend.
Did you notice anything
about that photo Antonia showed us
of them all in the garden?
Nick and Felicity, Antonia and Jack.
Nick and Jack, pretty much
the same build, same hair.
Felicity deliberately identified the body
that fell from the roof as her husband.
But it wasn't. It was Jack Wilmot.
Nick Turner
is still very much alive, Scott.
And he... He's our killer.
You said it, Scott.
We're all suckers at heart.
Dress up something convincingly,
in the right context.
Antonia, his own wife,
she was standing a few feet away.
Didn't recognise
the body of her own husband.
It helped a little
that the body landed head-first.
No!
No, for God's sake!
My guess is,
Nick Turner made sure it did.
So he discovered he'd been conned
and it was all payback.
Mm. Nick and Felicity together.
Somehow, they lured him to the attic
on the morning of the murder.
I'm going to enjoy this!
They dressed him in the identical clothes
that Nick would wear later,
and that he'd made sure Sarah the cleaner
saw him in before he went up to the roof.
Then they tied him up, gagging him in
some way that wouldn't leave any marks.
Later,
he'd have knocked out Jack again.
Wouldn't be easy to see the smaller
injuries under the massive ones
from the fall. Took off the gag.
Manhandle him over the edge and...
Let him drop.
Felicity made sure
she got to the body first,
so she could cradle the head in a way that
meant no-one else could see it properly.
Just in case.
Simple but effective. You can't be
charged with murder if you're dead.
And you think she's gone to meet him.
Yeah. The question is, where?
It turned out the only remaining asset the
parents had was their house in Causton.
Look, it wasn't my idea!
I swear!
That's the wrong answer, Mike.
Please!
A little claret!
Are you getting the raspberries,
Mike?
Oh, and er...
It might be worth your trying
to answer this next one correctly.
For another minute or two of your
worthless conman existence.
What makes you think you have the right
to destroy other people's lives, Mike?
I'm going to have to hurry you.
You can go to hell!
You'll be getting there
ahead of me.
Get a couple of men round the back,
quietly. Keep the rest out front.
They wouldn't have done a runner?
No.
Felicity's got to collect
the life insurance.
The gurgling!
I was just so amazed
by how much he managed to drink!
It must have been
a bottle and a half!
I just wish we'd videoed Otto.
I'd really like to see
that one again.
We can't risk seeing each other
until the money comes through.
It could be months.
Excuse me.
You won't see each other
for much longer than that.
Officers are outside
if you're thinking of running.
Wrists together.
Imagine the station
not noticing we were missing, sir.
Still, it's one thing
for your colleagues not to realise,
but for your own wife not to realise
you hadn't spent the night with her,
that must hurt a bit.
You might be hurting a little bit
too, Scott, once Zara has finished with you.
I don't think that girl is as meek
as you think she is.
Oh, no. She's a shy one, sir.
You can tell.
Anyway, being locked in a cellar
all night by a triple murderer
is a better excuse than saying the car broke
down and there was no signal on the mobile.
Zara -
I'm sorry about last night.
The car broke down.
I was there for hours.
I did try my mobile.
But I couldn't get a signal.
It was just...
That's OK. No worries. It's fine.
I've got a friend
that might like to go out with you.
Really?
Thanks, anyway.
She'll take a long time to recover,
Scott.
No question.
Well...
I must be off.
Don't forget the yoghurt, sir.