Midsomer Murders (1997–…): Season 8, Episode 7 - Sauce for the Goose - full transcript

Morning, Mrs Plummer!
Morning, Fred!

Morning, Mrs Plummer.
Morning, Kay.

Morning, Mrs Plummer.
Morning.

This is charming, Mr Judd.

Worcester.

Yes, it is indeed, Mrs Plummer.

May I have a look at the willow
patterned plate in the cupboard?

The one on the top shelf.

No.

No, I don't think so.

Thank you, Mr Judd.



Great pleasure, Mrs Plummer.

I think I've found just the carpet
for Cully's old room.

It's a sort of blue.
Did I mention it?

It's a bit dearer
than we originally discussed,

about ã100, well,
actually nearer ã200,

but it's perfect.

I thought we could go into Causton
together on Saturday.

I think we should buy a bed.

Joyce?

What are you planning to do
with that? With what?

The Plummer's Relish.
Bin it.

I'm having a clear-out.

You can't bin the Plummer's Relish.

Why not? It's been in the back
of that cupboard for years.



My father had Plummer's Relish

in his sandwiches every day
his working life.

You never use it, Tom.

This one's a health hazard.
At least let me buy a new jar.

I doubt they make it any more.

Don't chuck it out just in case.

All right.

If you insist.

Did you hear what I said
about the carpet?

It'll cost us more than we thought.
Like everything else.

Ahh!

What?

Oh, for God's sake.

Listen, I sent them a cheque
about a week ago.

It did?

Well, take it out the other account.

Welcome to Plummer & Sons,
ladies and gentlemen.

My name's Sam Hunt.
It's my great pleasure

to be showing you around
our famous factory today.

You're the accountant. You sort it
out, that's what I pay you for.

We'll get you signed in and kitted
out with the appropriate clothing.

Then I'll show you how Britain's
favourite Relish gets made.

Oh, stop whingeing, man,
try and look at the bigger picture.

Morning, Mr Anselm. Gentlemen...

All down here, please.

Fallen off again, Anselm?
Nice to see you too, Caroline.

Anselm.

Hello, Mummy.
You might have changed.

Caro, dear.

So pale.

Are you eating?

I wish.
And where the bloody hell is Ralph?

Where do you think?

♪ MOBILE RING TONE PLAYS SEA SHANTY
Buggeration!

Oh, bugger!

Sign the book and this nice lady
will give you a visitor's badge.

This nice lady happens
to my good lady wife,

so we're on our best behaviour.

Enjoy the tour,
ladies and gentlemen.

The AGM starts in a few minutes.

I'd better put my skates on.

They'll want their tea and biscuits.
All right, love. See you later.

Right, everyone, this way, please.

Follow me.

Oh.

Ralph, they're waiting for you.

Do I really have to?
All that bickering.

I don't think I can face it.

Darling, you're the boss.

They can't have an AGM without you.

When young Albert Plummer came back
from India in 1851,

he didn't come back
with a fortune as planned,

he came back with a recipe,
ladies and gentlemen.

A recipe for delicious Relish
he came across in The Punjab.

Now, young Albert was determined
to recreate this Relish

for his friends and family.

And after many failures
and setbacks,

he duly succeeded.

And that secret recipe, handwritten
by young Albert all those years ago,

is still kept under lock and key
in the company boardroom.

Chocolate biscuits, Mr Ralph.

Oh, lovely, Sonia. Thank you.

Helen, if you'd like to start the
ball rolling.

You'll find a copy of the agenda
in front of you.

The first item is the minutes
of the last meeting.

Proposed, seconded by Mama.

The second item concerns
the boiler house.

Do you mind if we fast-forward
to item three -

shareholders' dividends?

Or to be more specific, Helen, why
the bloody hell aren't there any?

The thing is, some of the boilers
are increasingly unreliable.

We have to face the fact
that they need replacing.

That's going to be very expensive.

Fine. But no dividends? We are
talking about Plummer's Relish.

People lap it up all over the world.

And you're telling me
there's no money for us?

Our name's on the bloody label
for God's sake.

We did lose quite a lot of money
on your restaurant, Anselm.

Let's not forget your polo ponies.

God knows why the firm
has to pay for them.

What about your cook book?

That's cost us a few quid
if I remember rightly.

I had to research it, Anselm.

Yes, in five-star Caribbean hotels.

Plummer's Relish Cook Book.
What a lovely idea.

Have you finished it yet?

Not yet.
My novel takes priority, of course.

And I've had some health problems.

Oh.

How are you now, dear?

A little better
since I gave up dairy.

I'll tell you when the cookbook
will be finished.

The same time
as her famous bloody novel.

Oh, children, children.

If you'd all just come through here.

Now, then in these vats,
ladies and gentlemen,
we have the dried mushrooms.

Mangoes, tamarind extract,
malt vinegar,

all marinating away like mad.

People ask what the most important
ingredient of Plummer's is.

You know what I always say,
ladies and gents? Patience.

That's what.

Well, well, look who's here.

This is my son Alex,
ladies and gents.

He's management now, so by rights
I should call him Mr Hardwick.

Isn't that right, son?

Enjoy your visit, everyone.

Speed it up, Dad.
They only get in the way.

Yes, as I was saying, one big
family, one big happy family.

Right, onwards.

Written by you,
it's gonna be a joke book.

Oh, shut up, everyone!

Helen, carry on.

The fact is, we have assets,
but no cash.

As you all know, Fieldway Foods
are desperate to buy us out.

I thought we sent
those cowboys packing.

Didn't Fieldway do their own relish?

Yes, yes, filthy stuff.

Well, they didn't get it right,
that's for sure.

They couldn't, could they?

They don't have the secret recipe.

The old secret recipe still locked
up, is it, Ralph?

Fieldway aren't getting their hands
on this firm, I'll tell you that.

They might agree
to invest some capital

in return
for a minority shareholding.

I say let's sell it,
lock, stock and barrel.

Let's get the place of our backs
and be done with it.

You know we can't do that.

I promised Papa I'd keep the firm
in the family.

Ralph, the old man's brown bread
and we're not.

Well, you didn't make the promise,
Anselm, I did.

Still scared of him, Ralph,
even though he's dead and buried.

A promise is a promise.

Damn it, Ralph!

Fieldway Foods could make us rich.

Can't we at least see
what they're offering?

There may be a compromise.

Do you mind? You're not a Plummer
and you're not a shareholder,

so please stay out of it.

Let's put it to the vote.

What's the point? Ralph's got more
shares. He always wins the vote.

Not if Mummy votes with us. Mummy?

Mummy?

Wouldn't you like to be very,
very rich?

Oh, dear, that would be lovely.

Then stick your hand up
when I tell you to.

OK. I propose we sell the firm
to Fieldway Foods.

Assuming we get a stonking,
great shed load of money.
All those in favour?

Hand in the air, Mummy.

We've got to do something
or we'll end up stony broke.

Mummy, let's at least find out
how much they're willing to pay.

No.

No. Ralph is right.

The firm must stay in the family.
That's what Maurice wanted.

Those against?

Carried.

Well, there you are.

Maybe we can discuss it
in six months' time.

So you propose doing nothing
as per bloody usual!

I saw a dead man in the garden.

You saw what, Amelia?
A dead man.

Hanging from a tree.

Can anyone tell me
what she's on about?

And then when I looked again
he was gone.

This is the steriliser,
ladies and gents.

At Plummer's we're committed to the
most rigorous standards of hygiene.

Come along, sir.

You're missing all the fun.

Well done, Ralph.
Another triumph of indecision.

MOBILE BEEPS

So, ladies and gents,

this little beauty pumps steam
at 200 degrees centigrade.

So we don't want to get too close,
do we?

Right, now, then.
I've been saving the best till last.

Ralph, what are you doing?

I'm going to take a look round
the factory.

Aren't you always telling me
I should show my face?

Well, yes, darling,
that's marvellous.

It's just so unusual.

Ah, Mr Judd is here to see you,
Mr Ralph.

The antique dealer.

Ah, not too bad this time,
Mr Plummer.

Just a little Worcester jug.

ã150.

What the hell's this about?

It's all right, Anselm,
I'll deal with it.

It's Mummy, isn't it?
Nicking things again.

No, no, no, she's getting
a little forgetful, that's all.

What's all this nonsense about
dead men hanging in her garden?

She probably dozed off
and had a nightmare.

Oh, Mr Judd.

And what brings you here?

I don't want to talk about it
in front of other people.

I'll deal with Mr Judd.
All right, darling.

Thank you, dear.

Would you take a cheque, Mr Judd?
I will. Thank you so much.

We have to do something about Mummy.
What do you mean?

It's obvious, isn't it?
The old girl's gaga.

What can we do about it?
Have her committed?

Now, there's a thought.

These tomatoes are all grown
in our greenhouses at Home Farm.

It's an old variety
that's lots of flavour.

And after they've been cooked
up here,

the flavour is even more intense.

Right. Now we'll move on
to the finishing room.

Come on, you stragglers.
Keep up at the back.

Hello?

It is you, isn't it?

Oi!

Careful!

Hello?

Ah, there you are.
Funny place for a meeting, isn't it?

MAN: I thought you'd be used to it.

Can we go somewhere a bit quieter?

Hey.

Whoa!

Stop!

Stop!

Stop!

Morning, Fred.
Morning, Mary. How are you doing?

Argh! Argh!

Argh!

POLICE RADIO

And you called the police
straight away?

Cath will take you to the station
for your statement.

Thank you.

Morning, sir. This way.

This one's a bit different, sir.

So I hear.

Morning, Tom.

Here's one for the memoirs.

Yours or mine?
Both, I reckon.

This thing here
is a bottle steriliser.

It pumps steam
at 200 degrees centigrade.

So Chummy here is done to a turn.

Do we know he is?

No, we don't, sir.
We're checking the work force,

seeing if anyone is unaccounted for.

Time of death, George.

The heat
is going to make that difficult.

The best indicator will be
the contents of his stomach.

It was emptied
at the end of yesterday's shift,

so whoever he is, he found
his way in there during the night.

And who would have been here
last night? Security guard.

He lives in the cottage
by the factory gates.

I'm assuming that someone's checked
this isn't the security guard.

Yes, sir.
He's at home, tucked up in bed.

Well, send someone over
to untuck him.

It wouldn't have been easy that,
would it?

Forcing someone into a contraption
like this against their will.

Unless he was already unconscious.

Or already dead.

Who's in charge here?

Hello, you. You beauty.

Oh ho!

♪ MOBILE RING TONE PLAYS SEA SHANTY
Damn! Damn!

He must be in Albert Wood.

We'd better send someone
to fetch him.

The police want to talk to you,
Mrs Plummer.

They're in Reception.

Worked her 43 years till I retired.
Never seen anything like it.

You don't look as if you've retired,
Mr Hardwick.

I do the guided tours now.

We get people
from all over the world, you know.

Anyway, it keeps me out of trouble.

Talking of trouble,
here's my better half.

Erm, Tracy.

Helen Plummer, sir.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby. I take it you're in charge.

Oh, no,
I'm only the company secretary.

My husband's the Managing Director.

Hello, any news?

He's on his way. This is Alex
Hardwick, Production Manager.

When will we be able
to start work again?

Not today, that's for sure.

well, how about tomorrow?

Let's see how today goes.

Sam,
you'd better cancel today's tour.

Okey-dokey.

Thank you.

Everyone's here, Mrs Plummer.

Except eight on their holidays
and three off sick.

So he wasn't one of us.

Mr Hardwick?

Did you take the tour yesterday?
Yes, I did.

How many people on that tour?
Erm 12, wasn't it, Sonia?

Yes, I think so. Let me see.

Yes. 12 signed in.
And 12 signed out?

Yes, I counted the visitors' badges
when they returned them.

But you didn't count actual people.
You didn't count heads.

No, I'm sorry. I never do.

Long as I get all the badges back.

It's all right, Sonia.
It's not your fault.

Names and addresses of all visitors,
check 'em out.

Tell everyone they can go home
once they have made statements.

Just what I needed.

Tracy.

I'd better notify the family.

Family?

My husband's family. The Plummers.

This is still a family-owned
business, you see.

We had the AGM yesterday,
so they're all staying at the house.

What time was the AGM?

Four o'clock, tea time.
AGMs are always at tea time.

And when was Mr Hardwick
taking his tour round?

About the same time,
now you come to mention it.

Oh, dear.
What's the matter?

No doubt, this will end up being
my fault, one way or the other.

Oh, sorry.
Pretend I didn't say that.

Bit stressed at the moment.

Mummy, are you listening?

Oh...sorry, Anselm.

What were you saying?

I was saying that this is
an Enduring Power of Attorney.

Isn't this what you tried
to get me to sign before?

Anselm.

You devious bastard.
You never told me. Shut up, Caro.

Mummy, listen. If, God forbid,
something were to happen to you,

this means that Caro and I would
be able to look after you

and your affairs, if you were unable
to look after them yourself.

If I went gaga, you mean.
He doesn't mean that, Mummy.

Actually, yes,
that's exactly what I mean.

Listen, Mummy, if you don't sign
this and you go doolally,

we won't be looking after you.

It'll be down
to the Court of Protection.

And God knows what they'll do.

What with you running around
the village nicking things,

they'll probably lock you up.

Ralph would never allow that.
He wouldn't have any choice.

That's the whole point.
Look, face it, Mummy.

Ralph is a busted flush.

All he wants to do is sit in Albert
Wood staring at the lesser spotted
thingumajig.

While his dreary little wife runs
round pretending to be in charge.

If you won't sign this, how about
giving me some of your shares?

And me.

You already have some shares,
darling, and so do you, Caro.

Yes, but Ralph has got more
so we can't out vote him.

Whatever I suggest
Ralph votes against it.

The truth is he resents the fact
that I'm the one with the ideas.

What? Like a Plummer's relish theme
park, I suppose.

That was a good idea.

Hurling people around
in giant vegetables? Please!

Perhaps I won't see him today.

What did you say, Mummy?

Nothing, darling.
PHONE RINGS

Yes? What?

What?!

I don't see what the hell
we can do about it.

Just what we need. Some twerp's
got himself killed up at the works.

Who?

Who's killed himself?

How the hell should I know?

DOOR OPENS
Ah.

Ralph, darling, this is Detective
Chief Inspector Barnaby

and Detective Sergeant Scott.

My husband Ralph Plummer.

How do you do?

How do you do?

Ghastly business, this, ghastly.

Do we know who the poor chap was?

We've ascertained, Mr Plummer,
it's not one of your employees.

Oh. Oh, well, thank heavens
for that.

There is a chance it was one of the
visitors on yesterday's guided tour.

But how? We take such care.

Ralph, the inspector doesn't think
it was an accident.

That's right, Mr Plummer.

We are treating
the death as suspicious.

Good God.

We've had to shut the production
line to gather forensic evidence.

We'll need to double-check
the movements of everyone.

Of course.

Not only the work force. I want to
talk to everyone that was at the AGM.

What, you mean the family?
What on earth for?

Darling, Inspector Barnaby
will need to talk to everybody.

Oh, yes, yes.

Of course he will. Yes, absolutely.

Ralph?

Mr Ralph.

Chocolate biscuits.

Oh, lovely.
Lovely, Sonia, thank you.

I notice you have CCTV cameras.

Yes, that's right.

Could we look at the tapes
for last night, please?

Tapes? Oh, no, dear.
There aren't any tapes.

We haven't put tapes in
since the cut-backs.

We've had to make some economies
lately, Inspector.

Well, if there's anything else,
please, don't hesitate to er...

to ask my wife...

because I'll probably be working
from home for the rest of the day.

Oh, I'll just...

Jolly good.

Well...

carry on, then, everybody.

I'm sorry. He's always on edge
when the family's here for the AGM.

The business with this poor man
has thrown him completely.

But we'll want to talk to you both
again, Mrs Plummer.

I suggest you come to Plummer House
later today.

I'll try and make sure the rest
of the family are there as well.

I'd appreciate that.

Let's see if the security guard can
cast any light on the matter.

I'm not holding my breath, sir.
This place is a shambles.

No-one knows
whether they're coming or going.

At least Helen Plummer has her pretty
little head screwed on OK.

Seems to, sir.

Go on, Keith.

Tell him. You don't owe
the Plummers anything.

All right, well,
something did happen last night.

Mr Anselm turned up at the main
gates just after midnight.

Shouting to be let in.

He said he'd left his mobile phone
in the board room.

He'd been at the AGM, you see,
earlier that day.

The whole family had.

So what did you do?

Well, I opened the gate
and let him in, didn't I?

And then I locked the boardroom
for him.

After he hadn't come out after about
ten minutes, then I went back in.

Yes, and?

Go on, Keith.

Yeah, you see...Mr Anselm
had the door to the safe open.

So I said to him,

"Is there anything I can do for you,
Mr Anselm?"

And he said, "No, there bloody well
isn't." Like that.

He was in a right mood - Mr Anselm.

He's always in a mood, isn't he,
Anselm? Always?

And then you did a tour of the works.

Sort of. I mean, my routine
was up the spout, wasn't it?

You know, I was all over the shop.

So I did two circuits straight off.

To make up.

And you did pass
the bottle steriliser?

Oh, yes, yeah.

I didn't see anything unusual,
you know.

Honest to God.
Apart from Anselm turning up,

it would have been a night
just like any other night.

If you work nights, Mr Carter,
how come you're wearing
your uniform this morning?

Oh, well, I do a little job now
and again, the odd afternoon.

Down in Causton, you know.

Not a lot to it.
Just er...a shopping centre.

That doesn't leave you much time
for sleep, does it?

If the Plummers paid him a decent
wage, he wouldn't have to moonlight.

Whatever happened last night,
he slept through it.

MOBILE RINGS

DS Scott.

Really? Thank you.

A visitor on the tour gave a Causton
address that doesn't exist.

Name?
John Smith.

John Smith.
Unbelievable.

Hang about.
What?

What was missing?
When the victim was found.

I don't know, sir.

If he'd turned up nude, even Sonia
Hardwick might have noticed.

His clothes.

His clothes. I wonder if this place
has got an incinerator.

They look like bits
of one of the factory coats.

Car key.

What's that?

Can you read that? What does it say?

Lockwood?
Yeah. Dexter Lockwood.

(HEAVY PANTING)

Oh, pull yourself together, woman.

You're imagining things.

Look again.

It'll be gone.

He had a pizza for lunch.

A Neapolitan if I'm not mistaken.
Followed by chocolate cake.

It's barely digested,
so I'd put the time of death

between three and five
in the afternoon. How, George?

Rather interesting.

He was crushed to death between
two large corrugated surfaces.

Broken legs, pelvis smashed,
ribs crushed.

As you surmised, Tom,

he was very dead before they put him
in the steriliser.

Hello, Scott.

Credit card belongs to a Dexter
Lockwood, sir.

He's aged 31, he's single,

and he lives with his dad
in Midsomer.

He's a brand executive, whatever
that is, for Fieldway Foods.

He's a bit of a high flyer.
He didn't come home last night.

He hasn't been seen at work
for two days.

Fieldway Foods?

They make convenience foods, sir.
Soft drinks, snacks.

The kind of rubbish this poor chap
had for his last lunch.

I'm not sure this is relevant,

but Lockwood's boss at Fieldway
Foods says they've been trying
to buy up Plummer's for ages.

Lockwood might have been
at the factory on business.

No. They gave up trying to buy
Plummer's ages ago

because the family always knocked
them back.

It's time to cast an eye
over the Plummer family.

George, thank you.

Oh, by the way, Tom.

Mr Lockwood had a stomach ulcer.
Not surprising in view of his diet.

Apart from the pizza
and the chocolate cake,

his belly was full
of over-the-counter antacids.

After the AGM broke up,

I went onto the factory floor
to talk to Alex Hardwick.

We passed the boiling room as
the visitors group was leaving it.

I didn't pay them too much
attention, I'm afraid.

I had too much on my mind.
Unlike the rest of us, I suppose.

And you, sir?
I left straight after the meeting.

Me, too.

I had to work.

I'm a novelist, you see.

And last week she was a painter.

The week before,
she was a film-maker.

Anselm, please.

And you, Mr Plummer.

I er...

After the meeting, I had a little
business to transact with Mr Judd.

Then I walked home.

I left the car for Helen.

I did some paperwork and drove home
about an hour after the others left.

My hero.

Who's Mr Judd?

Oh, he's er...

He runs the antique shop
in the village.

It was a personal matter.

Hm.

I was hoping to talk
to Mrs Amelia Plummer.

I didn't think it necessary to
involve my mother. She's very frail.

She left straight after the meeting.

OK.

And none of you returned
to the factory after that?

Apart from you.

Me?
You, sir.

You returned to the factory
after midnight, sir.

What?

I left my mobile behind, that's all.

You're such a liar.

You were jabbering on it when you
left the factory.

The security guard, Mr Keith Carter,

let you into the boardroom
to see something in the safe.

All right. I was looking in the
safe.

So what? It's my safe, too, you
know.

What on earth for?

I bet he was looking for Albert's
secret recipe.

Were you going to flog it to
Fieldway Foods?

Nonsense.
You are hilarious, Anselm.

If you take any interest in the
firm,

you'd know the original recipe
is in the bank in Causton.

The real secret is that it's
inedible.

Albert poisoned the housemaid
when he tried it on the servants.

So his cook came up with another
version.

We mustn't bore strangers with it.
Sorry.

You might be interested to know...

..that the dead man was, in fact,
an executive for Fieldway Foods.

Good God.
Fieldway had a chap snooping?

That's industrial espionage.

We think his name
was Dexter Lockwood.

Is that a name which rings a bell
with anybody?

No. I can't say that it does.

Mummy?

Are you all right, Amelia?

I saw the hanging man again.

And this time he didn't go away.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby, Mrs Plummer.

What seems to be the problem?

The inspector has more important
things to do.

Shut up, Ralph.

A man...

hanging from a tree,

opposite my garden, Inspector.

That's the problem.

Would you like myself and Sergeant
Scott to come and have a look?

Oh, yes, please.
That won't be necessary.

I wanted to talk to Mrs Plummer
anyway. Scott, come on.

Bye.

Lockwood, he's nothing to do with...
That's enough, Anselm.

It's that one. Opposite the gate.

He's always hanging from that one.

He's got a rope round his neck
hanging from the tree,

and when you open your eyes again,
he's gone?

Until today. He didn't go today.

Well, let's have a closer look,
shall we?

There's footprints.

Lots of them.

There's some bark rubbed off the
branch up there, sir.

Could have been caused by a rope.

It was obviously a dummy.

Someone's been trying to frighten
you, Mrs Plummer.

In a way, that's a relief.

I was starting to think
I was imagining it.

Any idea why anyone would want to
frighten you?

None whatsoever.

That man at the works,

do you know who it was?

Yes, it was a young man called
Dexter Lockwood.

Did you know him, Mrs Plummer?

Forgive me. I suddenly feel awfully
tired.

Will you walk me back to the house?

Yes, certainly.

That's probably kids.

A lot of trouble to go to just to
frighten an old lady.

It's got something to do with
Lockwood's murder?

I want to know why the whole Plummer
clan

go shifty at the mention of
Lockwood's name.

I'll talk to the father.
See if he can throw some light on it.

And you, Scott,

you go back to the factory,

and talk to everyone who was on the
factory floor at the time.

We've already taken statements.
I know. Take them again.

No, thank you, Mr Lockwood.

That's my father.

Sitting right next to Maurice
Plummer.

That was Amelia's husband, wasn't it?

That's right.

Maurice was the same age as Dad.

There's Dad.

A village boy, but there he is.

White shirt, suit and tie,
sitting with the Plummers.

He did very well for himself.
Oh, yes.

He revolutionised
that bloody business.

They were filling jars by hand

till Dad built them a proper
production line.

Didn't get on with Maurice Plummer
though, did he?

As soon as Maurice took over the
firm,

he kicked Dad out on his ear.

Kicked him out of his house
and the village.

Dad never got over it.

He committed suicide.

That was the coroner's verdict.

But it was murder if you ask me.

Mr Lockwood, what do you think

your son was doing at the Plummer's
factory?

I don't know.

Dexter was a bright boy.

He was really going places.

Just like Dad.

And now he's dead.

The Plummers killed my father.

And now they've killed my son.

I don't want to talk any more.

One more question if you don't mind,
Mr Lockwood.

Your father,

how did he commit suicide?

He hanged himself.

Hello, Inspector.

Sergeant Scott said to tell you he's
in the cafeteria.

Through the door, turn right.

And you find it next to the relish
museum.

Thank you.

Mrs Hardwick, does the name Stanley
Lockwood mean anything to you?

No. I can't say it does. Sorry.

I'm really, really interested.

Let's meet up later.
Great.

Scott...
Before you say anything, sir,

it's not what you're thinking.

You don't know what I'm thinking.

She's writing a book.
It's got a policeman in it.

Oh, research.
Something like that.

Tried this?
Indeed I have, yeah.

Well, when in Rome...

Oh, I've got something interesting
for you, sir.

Bloke over there reckons he saw
something in the boiling room

just before Dexter Lockwood
disappeared.

What? What did he see?

It's best he tells you himself, sir.

It's interesting.

It's an acquired taste.

Peppery, fruity,

hint of turmeric,

quite autumnal.

Yes. Shall we do some work?

Mr Milner.
Oh, this way.

Any idea when we could start work?

Not today, I'm afraid.

Mr Hardwick,

did you ever know a man
called Stanley Lockwood?

Be about your age, worked here quite
a few years ago now.

Stanley Lockwood? No, I don't know.

Oh, Stan Lockwood.
Yeah, I do remember him.

Yeah, poor old Stan.

What do you mean "Poor old Stan"?

Well, he was a bit erm...

How shall I put it?

A bit soft in the head.
They had to let him go.

Why do you ask?

Young man who died here last night,
he was Stanley Lockwood's grandson.

Stan's grandson.

Oh, well.

Small world.

Isn't it?

I was working over here when Sam
Hardwick brought the trippers in.

I was busy, but I noticed one of
them hanging round

as the others were going.

A young fella in glasses.

Then Mrs Helen came in.

Hello.

It is you, isn't it?

Oi! Be careful!

'I didn't hear what she said, but
the bloke jumped out of his skin.'

I thought he was going to fall in
the tomatoes.

Did you see which way he went?

No, I didn't.

Helen Plummer said she went straight
back to the office

after her chat with Alex Hardwick,

but then no-one can confirm her
whereabouts for the next hour.

She's only little, Scott.

You're not suggesting Helen waylaid
Dexter Lockwood,

somehow or other crushed him to death

and manhandled him into the
steriliser?

No. But why didn't she tell us
she'd spoken to him?

Sam Hardwick took the visitors to the
finishing room that way.

So, let's assume that Dexter Lockwood
went this way.

Oi, that door's
supposed to be locked.

Can you switch that off, please?

Scott.

You take that end, I'll take this.

Scott!

Blood?

Relish.

BEEPING

They said that Lockwood
was crushed to death

between two large corrugated
surfaces.

Looks like we found them.

You got any idea what happened here?

Nothing to do with me, mate.

You working here yesterday?

Yeah. My shift ended at two.

Anyone take over from you?
Nah, just me in here these days.

Thank you.

I was looking for you.
I was looking for you.

I think I know why.

You recognised Dexter Lockwood
on the factory floor.

I'd rather not talk about it here.

Do you know the Two Brewers in
Midsomer Market?

Indeed I do, yeah.

I'll meet you there at half six,
if that's all right.

OK.

A hundred.
50.

75.

Done.

Five.

15. 35.

Aha.

Just the person I wanted to see.

Me?

Please,

finish whatever it is that you are
doing.

And 40 makes 75.

Well, Inspector,

it seems you have me bang to rights.

All down here, please.

All clear.

Thank you, Inspector.

KETTLE WHISTLES

It's assumed as one gets older,
one needs less.

All that matters is to be warm, fed,
and facing the television.

It's all nonsense.

One needs cash as well.

One can never be too old for cash.

Hence your arrangement with Mr Judd.

Indeed.

How exactly did that work?

Oh, simple.

I remove something from Mr Judd's
shop without paying for it.

It's not shoplifting,
you understand.

I'm absent minded.

Now, Mr Judd, goes to Ralph,

who pays for whatever it is
I've taken.

And then I sell it back to Mr Judd
at trade price.

I don't make much,
but every penny helps.

I find it hard to believe you're
short of money, Mrs Plummer.

I don't have a bean.

I get a tiny allowance from Ralph.

And nothing at all from my shares,

because the business is doing so
badly.

Did you ever know a man called
Stanley Lockwood?

He used to work at Plummer's with
your late husband.

The man that was found dead at the
factory was his grandson.

Dexter Lockwood.

Will you take milk, Inspector?

No, please, don't try that on with
me. It's not going to work.

I don't know what you mean.

Your vague act.

Look, this is a murder investigation.

I get very tetchy with people who do
not co-operate.

Yes.

I knew Stanley Lockwood.

He was handsome, funny,

clever,

and I loved him, Inspector.

And he loved me.

Stanley was desperate
for me to marry him, but...

But?

He was a village boy,

so what did I do?

I married Maurice.

He was a Plummer.

He was rich.

I married the wrong man, Inspector.

And I have been paying for it ever
since.

In what way?

Maurice showed his true colours.

When we were married, he was a bully
and a tyrant.

But I stuck with it.
As one did in those days.

And Stanley?

Maurice was insanely jealous of
Stanley

and he couldn't bear having him
around, so he sacked him.

And I never saw him again,
which was what Maurice wanted.

I read about Stanley's...death

in the local paper.

Whoever's playing games at the bottom
of your garden, Mrs Plummer,

they know that story.

Inspector,

everyone in the village
knows that story.

Oh, it's you.

Mummy, where are my clean jodhpurs.

I am not your housekeeper, Anselm.

All right, keep your hair on.

Anyway, the quack's arrived to see
you.

I've parked her in the drawing room.

Hello.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby.

Dr Sarah Stannard.

You must be investigating
that poor chap at the factory.

How do you do?
And you're here to see Mrs Plummer?

Yes. I pop in every three months or
so. Give her the once over.

She's not physically ill, is she?

No, fit as a fiddle. At least she
was the last time I saw her.

What about mentally?

Well, again fine, if you ask me.

Otherwise I wouldn't have witnessed
that EPA for Ralph.

EPA?

Enduring Power of Attorney.

Ralph got her to sign one
the last time I was here.

So that he can take charge of her
money and so forth.

If necessary.

Apparently, Anselm tried to get her
to sign one.

And Ralph got wind of it.

Have you met Anselm?
Indeed I have.

I wouldn't let that one near my
loose change.

Mum will see you now, Doc.

Are you still here, Barnaby?

Just leaving, Anselm.

Now, then, where are you today?

Oh.

What the...?

Anselm!

BANG

I know you're in there, Ralph.

Ooh.

You have made it cosy.

Please, Anselm, a pair of goshawks
have taken up residence

and if you stomp about...
Let's have a look, then.

Goshawks, eh?

Don't touch that!

Do calm down, Ralph.
You'll make yourself ill.

Don't you think it'd be best if you
went back to London?

I would, like a shot.

Only that policeman has asked me to
hang around for a bit.

What for?

We're suspects, I suppose.

In the gruesome slaughter of
Lockwood Junior.

I'll tell you who my money's on.
Young Alex Hardwick.

Don't be ridiculous.
He's a chippy little sod.

Oozing envy from every pore.

And as for his dreary parents,

lovely old Sonia and Sam...

They've been with the firm for
years.

They have our interests at heart.

Cobblers. They hate our guts.

Heaven knows where we'd be
without Alex.

Yes, and look where he's got us.

We owe the bank millions, the
domestic market has dried up.

Now the factory's closed down

because somebody shoved a stiff in
the steriliser.

Not even you could find a silver
lining in that little lot.

They're back! The goshawks are back.

Good God, I give up.

I absolutely, bloody well give up.

Anselm, please don't...
slam the door.

Cobblers.

REVELRY

Oh, thank you.

I thought I recognised Dexter
Lockwood on a guided tour.

But when I went up to say hello,
he ran off like a scalded cat.

So I thought maybe it wasn't him
after all.

Then it turns out it was.

Maybe it was the glasses.

I hadn't seen him wearing glasses
before, you see.

And I should have told you, I know,

but I don't want to talk about it in
front of the family. Why not?

Because I'd had some meetings
with the Fieldway Foods people.

I was hoping I could hammer out
a compromise

that would save the firm without
having to sell it outright.

And what happened?

About a month ago, suddenly
everything went quiet.

I phoned Dexter to ask him what was
going on.

And?

Well, he didn't return my calls.

Isn't that your sergeant?

Did you know about Dexter's
grandfather

and his connection with Amelia?

No, not until you told me about it.

Mind you, that's typical of the
Plummers.

Well, well, Miss Goody Two-shoes
out boozing with a copper.

You don't like her very much,
do you?

She's such a teacher's pet.

When she married Ralph
and started working at the factory,

she made a point of doing every job
in the place.

Talk about sucking up.
What do you mean "every job"?

She worked on the production line,
bottling plant,

you name it, she did it.

She used to work in the warehouse?
Yes, I think she did.

And nobody was the slightest bit
impressed.

Anyway, we're here to talk about my
book, not her.

Yeah. What's the book about again?

It's about a talented,
sensitive woman

struggling to break free from her
philistine, materialistic family.

Right.

Where does the policeman
come into it?

That's what we're here to find out.

When Helen worked in the warehouse,

did she use to drive a fork-lift?

Is that why you're here?

To pump me about the damn firm?

Did she, Carol?
Of course she did.

There's not much else to do in a
warehouse.

Why do you think
Dexter didn't return your calls?

I don't know. Plummer's may be
making a loss

but the name, the brand is still
worth something.

Not the secret recipe?
No.

CAROL: Philistine.

It's mostly sugar and vinegar
anyway.

The other ingredients
just look good on the label.

Tomatoes, onion, garlic...

Tamarind, ginger,

Scotch bonnet, cinnamon...

You've done your homework.
I'm impressed.

My father always had Plummer's on his
sandwiches every day.

I used to read the label.
I thought it was so exotic.

And I was very disappointed when I
found out

that Scotch bonnet was a sort of
pepper.

And not a Celtic hat.

I'd better go and see how Ralph's
getting on.

There's a pair of goshawks in Albert
Woods,

so he's taken to sleeping in the
hide.

Well, that must be...

inconvenient.

Where is Albert Wood?

Across from Plummer House.

So, it's not as though he's miles
away.

Well,

thank you for the drink, Inspector.

I enjoyed it.

Me, too.

Helen, I wanted to ask you

about the EPA that Amelia signed in
Ralph's favour.

The what?

Enduring Power of Attorney.

I don't know anything about it,
I'm afraid.

As I said, the Plummers keep family
matters to themselves.

OK, thank you.

Good night.
Good night.

Good night.

How was your research, then, Scott?

It was quite interesting, sir.
How was yours?

Helen...
Helen?

Helen didn't know about

the connection between Lockwood
and Amelia or the EPA either.

Do you believe her?

Maybe, yeah.

Well, here's a thing, sir.

Helen Plummer used to work in the
warehouse.

Apparently, the lady
can drive a fork-lift.

Yeah, but why would Helen
run down Dexter with a fork-lift?

He was trying to help her bail out
Plummer's, wasn't he?

Just keeping an open mind, sir.

Are you suggesting I'm not?
No, sir.

Oh, eh! Scott.

Apparently,

Ralph does his bird watching in a
wood across from Plummer House.

I think tomorrow, Scott,

we should pay Ralph Plummer a visit
in his natural habitat.

There's a colour called oyster,

I think would go well with the blue
carpet.

Oyster?

Since when has oyster been a colour?

It's a sort of a grey, Tom.

Grey, I've heard of, yeah.
I know it's boring.

But we can't all spend our evenings
boozing with glamorous murderers.

You're as bad as Scott, you.

Helen...
Helen?

Helen Plummer is not the only
suspect.

Bright, attractive, hardworking...

She must be guilty of something.
Who said she was attractive?

You. I could hear it in your voice.

What is this?

Do you know,

it's been so long since I cooked it,
I can't remember.

Here.

This might help.

So, Ralph Plummer gets his mum to
sign the power of attorney thing.

Then tries to freak her out with a
hanging man trick.

Yes. The idea being that then he can
take over the running of her estate.

There's one problem with that theory
however. She doesn't have an estate.

Apart from her shares in the family
firm.

And where the firm's concerned,

she does exactly what Ralph tells her
to anyway.

There it is.

You have a look round, Scott,
while I chat to him.

See if you can find the hanging man.

KNOCKING

Go away, Anselm!

It's Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby, Mr Plummer.

May I have a word?

Well, I... I'd rather see you
at the office, Inspector.

Yes, so would I.

The problem is, Mr Plummer, you're
never there.

A pair of goshawks nested in the
wood last summer.

I'm very keen they should do so
again next summer.

I assume you've never seen a goshawk
on the wing, Inspector?

Er, no, I don't think I have.

No, you'd remember if you had.

They're thrilling birds in flight.

To see a goshawk fly at speed
through a dense wood like this...

The agility, the anticipation...

borders on the supernatural.

So unlike us,
blundering around down here.

Is that what you think I'm doing,
Mr Plummer?

Blundering around?

Aren't we all?

Did you get on with your father,
Inspector?

Yes, on the whole, yes.

Well, I didn't. In my father's eyes
I was always blundering around.

The trouble is, he was right most of
the time.

But when I'm here watching the
goshawks...

RUMMAGING

What was that?
It's probably my sergeant...

blundering around.

Morning, Mr Plummer.

I wanted to ask you, Mr Plummer,

about the enduring power of attorney
your mother signed.

Why do you want to know about that?

Well, someone's going to great
lengths to frighten your mother

and I'm curious to know why.

Well, she signed the papers
three months ago.

Pressure was being applied on her
from other quarters, so...

You mean Anselm?

Well, yes, actually.

He meant no harm, I'm sure.
Anselm's well-intentioned really.

I felt that I ought to take
precautions.

Yes, yes, quite.

I didn't want to upset Mummy.

Or Anselm for that matter.

I do try not to upset people,
Inspector. It's difficult.

The family.

The employees, the bank.

There's so many of them
and they're all so...

so easily upset.

Well, thank you, Mr Plummer.

Um... Which is the way to Plummer
House from here?

It's that way.

Please don't repeat what I said
about Anselm.

There must have been two of 'em,
Scott.

One keeping watch.

With the other hoisting and lowering
the dummy.

Sir.

Indigestion tablets.

Dexter Lockwood had an ulcer.

His stomach was full of antacids.

It couldn't have been Dexter, sir.

The last time Amelia Plummer saw the
hanging man

was the day after Dexter was killed.

Well, if Dexter Lockwood didn't come,

maybe his accomplice had to do it all
on his own.

And made a mess of it?

She did say, didn't she, that the
last time she saw it,

the body didn't disappear straight
away.

Time for another chat with Lockwood
Senior.

Now, there's a man who really hates
the Plummers.

Come to tell me who's killed my son,
have you?

I'm afraid not, Mr Lockwood.

We wondered...

if we could take a look at Dexter's
room.

Is that your son's car in the
driveway, sir?

Yes.

Have you got the keys?

No, I haven't.

Would it be all right
if we were to try this, Mr Lockwood?

If you must.

Thank you.

Now, if we could...

If you could show me the room...

In here.

That's his office.

What are you looking for exactly?

Anything that may tell us why your
son was killed, Mr Lockwood.

You've run out of ideas,
haven't you?

May I?

Be my guest.

Don't suppose you know the password
to Dexter's computer.

No, I don't.

I don't suppose you know where that
missing file is either.

No. I don't.

What puzzles me, Mr Lockwood,

is why you and your son were down in
Albert Wood trying to frighten

the living daylights out of poor old
Mrs Plummer.

"Poor old Mrs Plummer"?
Don't make me laugh.

You don't deny it, then?

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

That thing?

Kids must have put that in the bin.

What about the file?
Who put this in the bin?

Why are you interrogating me?

It was my son who was killed.

Yes, indeed it was, Mr Lockwood.

And I think I'm beginning
to understand the reason why.

An enduring power of attorney.

They seem to be all the rage in these
parts, don't they?

Signed by Amelia Plummer.

Giving full power of attorney
to Dexter Lockwood.

If she's unable to administer her
estate herself.

Dated a month ago.

Round about the time Amelia started
seeing the hanging man.

You don't like her very much, do
you?

I'm not fond of the Plummers, full
stop.

You're not fond? Your son goes
missing and what do you do?

You go down to Albert Wood

and haul that thing up a tree to
frighten an old lady.

Dexter said to rattle her on the day
of the AGM.

That's right. Drive her mad
and activate the power of attorney.

You listen to me, Barnaby.
No, you listen to me, Mr Lockwood.

I am trying to find out who killed
your son

and all I'm getting from you is lies,
evasions

and an attitude that does your son no
credit at all.

Now, you start being straight with
me,

or I will take you down to the
station

and charge you with conspiring to
pervert the course of justice.

Not to mention coercing the old girl
into signing this.

"Coercing?"

She didn't need coercing.

And why was that, Mr Lockwood?

It was the letters.

What letters?

Dexter Lockwood came to me about a
month ago.

He said he'd found some letters that
I had written to his grandfather,

and would I like them back?

I said, yes, of course.

I don't have any of the letters
that Stanley wrote to me.

Maurice found them and burned them.

Mrs Plummer,

do you recognise this document?

Oh!

Are you all right, Mrs Plummer?

Yes, thank you.

Are you sure?
Yes, I am.

Of course, I recognise it.

That's why I lied about seeing
Dexter.

I feel so guilty about it.

Why did you sign it, Mrs Plummer?

Dexter said Helen and Ralph

were planning to sell Plummer's to
Fieldway Foods.

He said...
What?

What did Dexter say?

He said the firm was in terrible
debt.

He was worried that once the deal
went through,

and all the debts were paid,

there would be nothing left for me

and I would be shut away
in some dreadful nursing home.

And you believed him?

I love my children, but I am under
no illusions about them.

They're all of them in their
separate ways totally unreliable.

I'm afraid the picture Dexter
painted was all too believable.

He was sweet.

Like his grandfather.

It was as if
Stanley had come back to me.

This is dated a month ago.

Can you remember, Mrs Plummer,
when you first saw the hanging man?

Well, it was just after my birthday.

So, um...

A month ago.

I'm sorry, Mrs Plummer.

Well, at least we've got a motive
now, Scott.

Somebody must have found out
that she signed over

the power of attorney to Dexter
Lockwood. The question is who?

None of the Plummers would have been
particularly impressed.

I don't suppose they would.

Let's find out what Dexter had
on his computer.

Start with that.

Helen Plummer was the one who had

all the dealings with Dexter,
wasn't she?

Let's just have an open mind, Scott.
Sir.

Those coppers are looking very
bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Perhaps they're on to you, Anselm.
What do you mean?

You were trying to steal the recipe
for Dexter Lockwood, weren't you?

Nonsense.
It's no good lying. He told me.

He told you?

You mean you knew him?
Yes, he asked me out.

Wanted to know all about

who owned shares and so on.

Said he'd get me on the Fieldway
board if I helped him.

Me too. Two-faced little...

Then about a month ago he stopped
calling me. Me too.

Nobody does that to me.

Bloody hell. Caro.

Best not tell anyone.

I won't if you won't.
Anyway, I didn't kill him.

Did you?
Certainly not.

That's how they make their money.

What do you mean?

You can never get it all out of
the jar. They do it on purpose.

It's congealed, look.

Can't the glamorous Mrs Plummer
give you some on the house?

That might be construed as a bribe,
Joyce.

You haven't noticed, have you?

Noticed what?

My new reading glasses.

Yes.

They're very...um...

Very what?

Very sexy?

Very scary?

Give me a clue.

The glasses.

What happened to the glasses?

Glasses, Scott.

Sir?
Helen Plummer said she'd never seen

Dexter Lockwood wearing glasses
before.

What became of the glasses, Scott?

Not in the incinerator.
And the SOCO boys have been through
every inch here.

Whoever killed Dexter Lockwood

was hoping to get the body off
the premises during the night.

They were probably reckoning on
the security guy

sleeping through his shift as usual.

But in the middle of the night
Anselm turns up creating mayhem

and after he's gone
the security guard

starts doing his job properly
for once, patrolling the factory.

So they hide the body
in the steriliser.

Maybe the glasses fell off
while he was being killed.

Or when the body was being moved?

Yes. So you're moving the body,

the glasses come off,

you bend down, you pick them up...
And you put them in your pocket.

You put them in the pocket
of the white coat you wear
on the factory floor.

And in the general panic...
you forget all about them.

So we check all the white coats.
Unless they've gone to the laundry.

Let's ask Sonia Hardwick.
She's bound to know.

Come on, sir, we tell Sonia,

it'll be all over Little Upton
in 10 minutes.

That's the last thing we want,
isn't it (?) Oh, yeah...

GATE ROLLS BACK

Hello?

Somebody in there?

Is anybody here?

Hello?

Hey!

Hey! Hello!

(MUFFLED SHOUTS)

I told you not to turn the lights
on, Alex.

Oh, dear.

Sam! Help!

Leave him alone....Sam!

Get off him, leave him be!

That's enough, all of you, Stop!

Well, well...

He should never have come here.

Trying to muscle in on
other people's lives.

Shut up, Alex.
SIRENS

It wasn't our fault the lad died,
I swear. It was a terrible accident.

Did you get them?
(MUFFLED) Yes.

Yes, I've got them.

Mr Plummer, the Hardwicks have been
taken to Causton police station.

I want to talk to you
before I charge them.

They were only trying to help,
Inspector.

Oh, I'm sure they were.

They've always been a tower
of strength, the Hardwicks,
haven't they?

Yes, they have.

And when Stanley Lockwood was hanged

I imagine they rallied round then,
too?

Of course.

In fact, the whole Hardwick clan
came out of that very well.

Promotion, company housing.
The son, Alex, becomes manager.

He's a very promising young man.

Until Dexter Lockwood turned up.

A thorn in the flesh,
just like his grandfather.

Yes. Darling, you don't
have to say anything.

It's all right, Helen.

I might as well get it over with.

I knew that Dexter Lockwood had
approached various family members.

But when he got Mummy to sign
the power of attorney

that was the last straw.
That must have made you very angry.

Of course it did.

Of all the underhand, devious...

And it superseded the one Amelia had
signed in your favour.

Yes. And then when Mummy started
seeing men hanging from the trees

I knew what was going on. Oh, yes.
Ralph, don't say any more.

I told Dexter Lockwood

that I'd changed my mind.

I told him I wanted to do a deal
with Fieldway Foods.

He said he'd have to look around
the factory first.

He'd never set foot in the place
before, obviously.

I said that would be difficult.

What if he were recognised?
It might start tongues wagging.

And he suggested joining one
of our guided tours.

And that suited you perfectly.

Indeed.

Enjoy the tour,
ladies and gentlemen.

The AGM's due to start any minute.
I'd better put my skates on.

They'll be wanting their tea
and biscuits.

The arrangement was that I'd meet
him in the warehouse.

I'd made sure the side door
was left unlocked.

Once he was in the warehouse, I...

I cornered him.

And ran him down in a forklift.
Ralph (!)

I waited until everyone
had gone home.

Then I...

I cleaned up as best I could.

Then I dragged Lockwood to
the main doors of the warehouse.

That's when his glasses fell off.

I picked them up and...

..put them in my pocket.

My plan was to leave him
by the doors

and then somehow try and get him
into one of the delivery vans.

But it became obvious that wasn't
going to work.

Thanks to Anselm,

the security guard started doing
his job for once.

I realised I wasn't going to get
the...

..the body off the premises

so I...

Well, I...

You stripped Dexter Lockwood and
shoved him into the steriliser.

Yes.

Yes, that's right.

He was covered in relish.

And you did this all by yourself?

Of course.

Well, there you are, Inspector.

You have your confession.
There's the end of it.

I'm afraid not, Mr Plummer.

Cos I don't believe a word of that.

Would you stand up, please, sir?

Scott, the coat.

You try that on, please.

(CHUCKLES)

Dexter Lockwood's glasses.
They weren't in your coat.

They were in your wife's.

You put your coat on the wrong peg,
didn't you?

And the fingerprints on the glasses,

Helen, they'll be yours.

You recognised Dexter Lockwood on
the factory floor, didn't you?

Hmm?

Hello.

It IS you, isn't it?
Oi, careful!

Your husband can't have told you
about his meeting with Lockwood

so you didn't know what he was up to.

So you followed him
into the warehouse.

LOCKWOOD: A fine place for a meet...

PLUMMER: I'm sick of your devious
tricks, do you understand?

Don't go near my mother again, ever!

You saw them talking together.

And that is when you decided to kill
Dexter Lockwood.

And I want the papers back.
I want them back now. Now!

Can we go somewhere a bit quieter?

Hey... Oi!

Stop!

Stop!

Hey! Stop!

Stop!

All the rest happened pretty much
as you described it, Mr Plummer.

Except it wasn't you who picked up
the glasses, was it?

It was your wife.

SLIDING DOOR OPENS

So then,

you had to think of a place to hide
the body

before you could get it
out of the factory.

I wonder, who thought of
the steriliser?

I did.

As usual I was the only one thinking
straight.

We stripped him.

Then dragged him
to the boiling room.

DOOR OPENS

Then we heard Keith Carter
coming back.

MACHINERY STARTS WHIRRING

The question is,

why did your wife kill
Dexter Lockwood

in such a reckless fashion,
Mr Plummer?

Because of what he did to my mother,
of course.

And because...she knew that
I wasn't up to the job myself.

No, Mr Plummer.

Your wife killed Dexter Lockwood

so he couldn't tell you about this.

What is it?

This is a report prepared by Dexter
Lockwood on the Plummers' assets.

If you look here,

you'll see that
the...factory itself,

that's not really valued very highly
at all.

The property in Little Upton,
the houses where the employees live,
that's worth quite a bit.

But the real jewel of the crown,
sir...

..is Albert Wood.

Albert Wood?

Perhaps you don't know, sir.

Albert Wood's been reclassified.
It's no longer green belt.

Your wife and Dexter Lockwood
hired a consultant

to assess the likelihood of getting
planning permission.

He thought there was
a very good chance indeed.

That wood's big enough to build
a small town on.

A large fortune.

Build houses?

In Albert Wood?

It would have saved the firm, Ralph.
That's all I cared about.

But what about the birds?

Oh, to hell with the birds!

Someone had to do something.

I saw that the lights were on.

It's all right, Mummy.
Go back to bed.

But what's going on?
It's the middle of the night.

I'll...I'll tell you tomorrow,
Mummy.

And where's Maurice?

He'll have something to say
about this.

I'll take you back to the cottage,
shall I?

Who are you?

It's Ralph, Mummy.

Your son.

Of course it is.

I'm going to bed

and so should all of you. It's far
too late to be gallivanting around.

(SLAMS DOOR)

Go on. Get your head down.

I suppose this means
that I'm in charge.

It means WE'RE in charge.

What do you know about
running a factory?

What do YOU know about running
a factory?

Hells bells, Caro, does this mean
we'll actually have to work?

Don't say it, Scott.

I told you so.

Did you get the new blue carpet?

No.

What about the oyster paint?

No.
Good.

Not sure that was going to work.

Well, I'm glad to see you taking
an interest at last.

I bought you a new jar of this.

Oh. Thank you.

But you shouldn't have bothered.

I thought it was your favourite?

Well, it was. But it isn't any more.

I think they've changed the recipe.

Sorry.

CHAINSAW

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